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#and also most of the people are not even aware you exist or don't want you to exist
hiiragi7 · 2 days
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hi there!! i've been reading some of the discussions you've had & many of them are super informative and some comforting to read from the perspective of someone who's questioning if they might be plural/have a CDD. i really appreciate ur blog & the views and experiences u share on it, it feels like a warm hug amidst The Horrors of Syscourse.
i've had something on my mind though. this is probably a silly question, but it's possible to have a CDD without (C)PTSD, right? admittedly i'm kind of just asking this for reassurance while i'm on my own discovery journey. like. i have experienced traumatic events and some of it is ongoing & i'm still living with the people responsible, but i don't think i fit the PTSD criteria due to not experiencing flashbacks or strong emotions related to the events—i usually just feel totally empty & detached from it. i still believe i've been negatively affected by the events hence considering them traumatic, but that doesn't include any kind of flashbacks.
i've been trying to look into it & find answers but i've seen a lot of conflating of having experienced trauma with having PTSD, so most of what i find is "can you be plural/have a CDD without trauma" discourse.
i think it'd be neat to see more conversations about this but free to ignore this ask if u don't want to answer it/if u don't feel equipped to! wishing u the best. have a great day!!
This is actually a very interesting question.
I've read a lot of medical literature on trauma, and each author in the field seems to define what qualifies as PTSD or PTSD symptoms differently, which also lines up with my own experiences with medical professionals in practice. In general, me simply being traumatized was enough for me to be given an automatic PTSD diagnosis, regardless of which therapist or psychiatrist I saw. Some professionals I saw were very specific with what they called what, others were a lot more loose with it.
I've seen a lot of differing definitions and academic debate over what qualifies as a flashback, dissociation, a posttraumatic symptom, and so on. That is to say, it can all be very vague.
For example, there are other forms of flashbacks that exist outside of the well-known ones; some people only relive traumatic events emotionally, or through repeated thought processes, or somatic pain. A lot aren't even aware these are flashbacks, because it's experienced as 'random' emotions or pain or spirals or some other response, and a lot have trouble figuring out what even triggers these responses.
Would these experiences fall under what we call flashbacks in PTSD? Well, it probably depends on who you ask. And, in practice, whether someone with these experiences gets diagnosed with PTSD or a mood disorder or a personality disorder or somatic pain syndrome depends on the medical professional evaluating them.
To further complicate it, a lot of people don't experience overt c/PTSD symptoms until they are no longer living in the traumatic situation, which, for people who develop cPTSD, means they may not show obvious symptoms until a very, very long time after the trauma started. I didn't start getting "classic" PTSD flashbacks and "waking up in a panic attack in the middle of the night" type nightmares about the trauma until I wasn't around the people who did it anymore. However, I have experienced many other trauma-related symptoms and heavy dissociation ever since I was very very little. Before I was diagnosed with PTSD in highschool, I was diagnosed with a lot of other things first.
There's also just the fact that, for whatever reason, people don't all develop the same symptoms in response to trauma. Some people with very complex trauma never experience classic PTSD symptoms. Some people are very dissociative and numb, or develop mood disorders, or obsessive-compulsive symptoms, or somatic symptoms, or eating disorders, or some combination of things. Some people never externally harm themselves or cope using substances while others develop addictions to these things.
In addition, some people's experiences with trauma don't fall under the PTSD criteria's definition of trauma, so even if other symptoms are present they don't "technically" fit criteria. And sometimes medical professionals use their own judgement and diagnose these people with PTSD anyway, and sometimes they don't.
Plenty of people diagnosed with other childhood trauma-based disorders besides CDDs also don't fit c/PTSD criteria or show many c/PTSD symptoms or receive a comorbid c/PTSD diagnosis for whatever reason. It's complicated and messy.
This is all to say, I've encountered medical professionals who treat PTSD as synonymous with "traumatized" and are very loose with what they call PTSD and I've also encountered medical professionals who are very strict about the criteria and are very insistent on only diagnosing people who fit that, and I've met a lot of professionals somewhere in the middle as well. I've also encountered plenty who would much rather focus on helping the symptoms than on what the diagnosis is or isn't, and who don't really like the way mental health diagnosis is structured in the first place.
So, to come back to your question... I don't think there really is an objective answer to it, though personally I'd just say "sure it's possible, and I wouldn't really worry about it much."
In the end, what I've found is that it doesn't actually really matter that much? Regardless of whether there is comorbid PTSD or whether there isn't (or whether it's delayed onset or etc), in the end what you're dealing with if you have a CDD is still trauma, and the treatment for that is more or less the same, regardless of what you call it. There might be differences in, say, approaches to medication specifically, or specific symptoms, but even that is often just throwing things at the wall and seeing what sticks. Honestly, in my experience, treatment mostly looks different based on symptoms and individual needs rather than diagnoses, really.
In general, I find that a lot of people dealing with trauma and mental illness tend to over-focus on diagnosis and getting it right and trying to figure out whether they "really" have something or whether they're mistaken or somehow faking or so on. I think that's an unhelpful approach to it; there's no objective way to confirm that sort of thing, and either way you still need ways to cope with your symptoms, and coping skills are useful regardless of diagnosis. Learning how to ground yourself is useful regardless of whether you "really" dissociate that bad, learning emotional regulation skills is useful regardless of whether you "really" have severe mood swings, learning calming techniques and self-care and how to be gentle with yourself are good things for everyone to learn, coping skills are not just for people with certain diagnoses. In fact, you don't even need a diagnosis of anything to do these things.
And with trauma, like... it's all just trauma processing in the end, really.
I'll even go as far to say that even if you don't have PTSD, books and resources for PTSD might still be useful to you if you have a CDD or another trauma-related disorder, since a lot of symptoms overlap with other disorders and especially with trauma the recommendations for what to do about it tend to be applicable to a lot of different situations outside of strictly PTSD.
I realize I rambled a long time just to say "well, it's complicated and depends on what we mean by PTSD, but also it's all trauma anyway" but I hope this was helpful still?
I'm also glad to hear what you said about my blog, it was very nice to read.
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musical-chick-13 · 9 months
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Oh not me avoiding a wildly popular piece of media that I’d probably actually like out of sheer spite.
#maybe this is my True Toxic Trait but I just get really annoyed when all I hear is 'this thing is PERFECT it's EVERYTHING it's the only#TRULY high-quality media to EVER exist it is OBJECTIVELY better than literally EVERYTHING else it's the MOST IMPORTANT thing of ALL TIME'#like...again. not that you have to issue a disclaimer for media discussion of every single one of it's flaws before you earn the right to#talk about it. but if people keep holding something up as The Best Ever No Exceptions with literally no other commentary I just kind of...#get irritated to the point where I don't want to engage with the thing#I think in this case it's really...Objectively This Is The Best. I think that's what bothers me. because there IS no objective measurement#of art. it doesn't exist!! and that's okay!!!! just be honest!!!!!!!#'but mc13 what about your relationship to cxgf' well if you go back through my episode reviews you will see that I very much#acknowledged that some things could be done better and that it is not a perfect show because perfect media ALSO doesn't exist#and I've never said that it's the ONLY '''right''' way to present the themes it explores. there are a million different ways to do that#and it is the Greatest of All Time in MY OPINION. that's not going to be true of everyone!! and you can think something is the Best™#WITHOUT PUTTING DOWN OTHER PIECES OF MEDIA /ESPECIALLY/ ONES THAT ARE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME GENRE OR HAVE THE SAME FUNCTION??????#I'm also so tired of people saying 'it's good because it's gay™' like that tells me NOTHING#and like. the ideas/themes/concepts presented in this thing (from what I can tell) ARE present in other types of media and y'all REFUSE to#engage in those other things??? like you write them off and disparage them and basically unconditionally hate the things in them but#THIS time it's okay THIS is the exception and there is just NO awareness or critical thought there at all. it's the hypocrisy for me#In the Vents
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I think the hardest thing in writing for me sometimes is the like “show don’t tell/let people communicate through subtext/Normal People don’t just walk around openly explaining their motivations for everything That’s Unnatural” thing because like.. I literally DO walk around openly explaining my motivations for everything, that is how I talk, I am an analytical detail oriented over-communicator who explains everything as thoroughly as possible and and will give a fully detailed 2 minute long answer to something simple like “how are you doing today?” .. like it’s hard to make things sound Natural and Normal when you yourself are inherently unnatural and abnormal in your methods of communication to an extent lol
#''hey. whats up? you look kind of sad.. is something wrong?''   normal answer (apparently how people are supposed to talk): *looks away#remosefully and stares into the distance* ''n-no.. I'm fine. don't worry about it.''   abnormal answer (how I would respond): ''Yeah I#'m mostly fine. I was just thinking about what the future is going to be like 30 years from now and if I'll ever actually accomplish anythin#g that I want to. which makes me feel X way for XYZ reason. you see because I had a dream last night that made me think of *continues to exp#lain my exact emotional state and inner thought process completely matter of factly in exact detail for 5 more minutes*#tfw you would be a badly written character if you existed in a story lol#This is also why I struggle making conflict because most conflicts can be resolved through conversation and I personally love to have long#detailed conversations about everything. Like literally I don't have hardly any conflicts interpersonally because if something happens it's#immediately followed up with like ''hey sorry if my tone of voice sounded a bit pointed or harsh. when you were talking to me I was trying#to balance all the stuff I was taking up the stairs and also my leg hurts so I think all my mental energy was being used there and I just#didn't feel like talking. I should have just said 'wait a minute and we can discuss it inside' instead of trying to end the conversation qui#ckly in a short rude way.' ''oh yeah thats fine. I thought it was something like that. sorry for hounding you about the topic as well. i#havent eaten in a while so I think I'm just a bit prickly at the moment. we should both rest for a while and destress from the store#trip and then talk about it later. maybe after lunch?' 'sure. sounds good.' like LITERALLY. lol#it is so hard for me to write characters who are bad communicators or don't understand their own internal states or arent constantly#analyzing their own actions to understand what they do/don't feel and why and what the cause of it is and etc. etc. etc.#I just naturally want everyone to perfectly undertsand everything and communicate amazingly and have complete self awareness and#logical presence of mind gjhbj.. which like.. of course comes across as unnatyural and also those type of people rarely ever get involved in#conflict and conflict is APPARENTLY what drives stories (even though I don't like most conflicts and just want to resolve them lol) so ...aa#I mean you can get around this to some degree by the fact that (at least in my opinion) no rule for dialogue is 100%. dialogue is good if it#sounds naturally like it comes from the character who said it. It can be meandering and pointless and rambly IF that matches the character.#it can be dry and overly self aware IF your character is that way and it suits them. So like throwing in a few detached scholar types or lik#e '5000 year old cave dwelling hermit' type people is good for me and works BUT the thing is an ENTIRE cast of characters can't be that way.#at some point - even in a setting where everyone is reserved and academic (like a research camp in the wilderness full of scholars and stuff#) still SOMEBODY has to be the one who's conflict prone and doesn't pristinely understand all of their emotions and etc. etc. Because statis#tically that is still literally the majority. Kind of like my tendency to make everyone 100% aromantic and asexul when it's like.. YES.. may#be 2 or 3 or even 4 out of 10 of them could be that way. but like.. an entire group? a diverse group of 10 people from all walks of life and#EVERY single one is like that??? hgjh . you have to add realistic variety#As much as I'm pro 'have more stories where sex or romance are literally NOT involved at all in any capacity since it's already oversaturate#d in media' I'm also dedicated to realism. alas. (at least as realistic as you can get in a fantasy setting lol)
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vadlings · 3 months
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Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi
Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.
Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.
The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):
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The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.
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In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)
Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.
I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.
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The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.
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The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)
Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.
Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.
To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.
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decolonize-the-left · 7 months
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Project 25. The Heritage Foundation.
It's behind every single anti-lgbt law pushed the last year. They are why Roe v Wade was overturned. They are successful, well funded, and a massive threat.
What you can do is educate yourself and others about it. Get to know your enemy. Protest. Wear pride pins. Put out your flags. Show solidarity. We are ALL under attack by this white supremacist christo-fascist group.
Remember when 2020 had kpop stans organizing on twitter and gen z using tik tok to make Trump meets flop while white vets made themselves frontline walls at BLM protests that were organized to handle shit like kettling thanks to their amazing black organizers? Remember how people actually Showed up to those protests for awhile?
We need that cross-generational Fuck The System energy again. Not just for a summer this time. This needs to go passed the election.
They're playing a long game and so do we.
Get inspired.
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Their goals include saving the children and traditional family, and "to lay the groundwork for a White House more friendly to the right."
This translates to destroying the EPA, disability rights, and criminalizing being LGBT. Also to overthrow the US government, as stated in their manifesto.
They want to replace our democracy with a theocracy. No Republican in office was elected without their approval.
They're the kind of right that makes being LGBT punishable by death. That makes it a crime just to exist where others can see you. They want librarians who work in libraries that make LGBT books accessible to be registered sex offenders. They want you prosecuted and even specify that no mercy should be shown to people the "left" likes (ex: immigrants, black people, etc)
That's the extreme right who's been manipulating our laws.
And they plan to make things a lot worse within the first 180 days a Republican is elected president.
Source
If you don't have plans coming up.... Start organizing them. We will be okay if we work together.
We will be okay if we work together.
If we have each other, we'll be okay. We have to rely on each other. You have to be reliable. You, person reading this, have to show up. That's how this works.
I have your back if you have mine. Do not leave me to the wolves and I won't leave you.
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principaliteas · 1 month
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i'm leaving this blog. i'm tired of being cyberstalked & threatened every day.
there are several popular bloggers on here who are blatantly antisemitic & they constantly exploit palestinian trauma as a vehicle for jew-hatred. it is horrific that jews can't exist online or offline in 2024 without facing violence. even on this website, which has a very politically progressive userbase, we are constantly subjected to long-term targeted harassment campaigns by people who claim to love "punching nazis!!! UwU".
you're all full of shit. i refuse to sugarcoat my anger. jews are allowed to be angry about antisemitism & the horrific treatment of our people from those who purport to be progressive. you refuse to acknowledge that multiple things can be true at once. israeli occupation must end & palestine must be free. also, jews never deserve antisemitism; you should not be antisemitic while advocating for palestinian liberation & statehood.
many of you don't want people to conflate zionism with judaism, which is a good attitude to have, because judaism isn't zionism & antizionism isn't antisemitism. but the truth is, you automatically believe all jews are associated with israel. if you don't want people to conflate jews with zionism, you should, uh. probably practice what you preach? deconstruct your antisemitic biases & do better. it's very easy to support palestine without being antisemitic.
i have only used my online platform to advocate for peace & equality. in response, people have sent me extremely violent threats, the details of which i will not disclose here to protect the wellbeing of my followers. this has completely destroyed my mental health. i have been stalked & harassed over the past four months by leftists. not nazis, but people with pronouns in their bio. people have decided that because i'm a jew who talks about leftist antisemitism, i must be personally responsible for a genocide.
& i am not alone. this website has been an awful place for jews for a very long time, but since 7/10, the visceral hatred & abuse we face has significantly worsened. the people who incite this violence against us do not care about palestine. if you did, your posts would be focused on calling attention to israel's war crimes instead of harassing anyone with a star of david in their bio.
most goyische leftists don't care about jews. we have always fought for you, but you persistently refuse to do the same for us. your activism is performative & meaningless if it doesn't include all oppressed groups. i will never, ever forgive you for abandoning us in our time of need. you can - & should - support multiple oppressed groups at the same time. it isn't difficult, you just don't want to do it, because pretending to care about jews is just too much effort.
we must endlessly advocate for a free palestine. call your representatives & demand that they support a ceasefire. donate esims to gaza, donate to PCRF, MAP & other verified charities. keep listening to palestinians & never stop talking about what's happening, use your voice to condemn israel's systemic oppression of palestinians & demand a better future.
it is horrific to twist any humanitarian movement into a hate movement. palestinians & jews are siblings; we all deserve better.
let it be known that i was harassed into abandoning this blog for being a jew. a pro-palestine jew (but antisemitism is completely unacceptable when it's directed towards zionist & pro-israel jews too, because discrimination is always wrong regardless of who the target is; you can dislike & disagree with people without being bigoted.)
all of my activism will be taken offline from this point onwards. social media is a useful tool for spreading awareness, but i think it would be prudent for everyone to spend less time shouting at each other online & more time making a tangible effort to create a world where everyone, everywhere, can live in peace.
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caparrucia · 1 year
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Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.
Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.
And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"
But like.
If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.
So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.
There is no nuance to this.
A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.
That's it.
That's all.
"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.
"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.
"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.
"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.
"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.
But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.
"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.
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Kidnapped Astarion
I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.
Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)
So now let's get to that angst:
It had all happened so fast.
One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.
But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.
What a mistake that had been.
When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?
Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.
But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.
It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.
He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.
Terror.
And then, he felt nothing at all.
The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.
Cazador.
"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"
Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?
"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."
Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.
He should have realized there was a reason for it.
He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.
"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"
"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.
Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"
It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"
"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"
"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."
Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."
He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.
But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."
Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"
It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"
Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?
"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"
No. No, no, no.
"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."
"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."
Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.
Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.
His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"
"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"
"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.
He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.
He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.
His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."
He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."
Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."
Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.
It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.
It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.
He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.
If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.
You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.
So why was he still crying over it?
It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.
But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.
It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.
My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.
He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.
I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.
He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.
Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.
Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.
But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.
And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.
It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.
Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.
He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."
The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?
He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.
It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.
Or so he thought.
But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."
Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.
And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.
He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"
He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.
He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."
You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.
Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"
"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"
Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.
"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."
Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."
"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"
"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."
Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"
"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."
"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."
You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."
Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.
Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.
Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...
He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.
And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.
He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.
The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.
He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."
You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.
He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.
Free.
He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.
"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"
"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"
"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."
You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.
But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.
Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.
But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.
As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.
Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?
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So, the DfE have released their non-statutory guidance for schools on "gender questioning children". I know much has been made of the idea of outing trans children to their parents, but I think the guidance actually has far more concerning sections. And by concerning I mean "deeply transphobic and fucked up".
I know some people are happy it's non statutory, but let's be explicit, this document is transphobic, it's dogwhistle politics, and it's existence will directly harm trans people.
Ironically, the DfE's own lawyers have advised that this guidance is likely illegal and contravenes the equality act.
I think the idea that there are lots of students who are fully transitioned in school but not out at all at home is a bit of a strawman from both sides. In my experience (and I've mentioned this on tumblr before), a school would not normally encourage this if a student was genuinely at risk at home if outed, because even if all the teachers knew not to out the students, you can't control the behaviour of other students/parents etc. I think it's a bit of a right wing scare tactic "Schools are transitioning your kids without your consent". It's a fascist dog whistle.
In my experience as a teacher, the vast majority of trans kids I've taught were transitioning socially at home and school. Some did only use their chosen name/pronouns in school, but parents were aware.
But this straw man has been used to build a document which is deeply transphobic and wide reaching and will defacto exclude some trans kids from school, or from school sports, or from attending a school where they feel comfortable.
Trans kids exist. Kids can know they are trans from a young age, and there is no harm to anyone from allowing social transition at a young age. Some kids transition back to their assigned gender at birth. That doesn't mean anyone was harmed. But this guidance explicitly presents the idea of transition as both harmful to the person transitioning and those around them. Which is fucked up.
The new guidance has some really concerning bits in it which will seriously negatively impact all trans students. Here are some quotes below, with my comments in italics. Please note I'm quoting directly from a document that uses transphobic language:
-Primary school aged children should not have different pronouns to their sex-based pronouns used about them. (This is fucked, I cannot stress how fucked this is. These kids exist and simply pretending they don't is awful in the extreme. The idea that children can't socially transition at primary school is really messed up. )
-schools and colleges should only agree to a change of pronouns if they are confident that the benefit to the individual child outweighs the impact on the school community. It is expected that there will be very few occasions in which a school or college will be able to agree to a change of pronouns. On these rare occasions, no teacher or pupil should be compelled to use these preferred pronouns. (How does a child using pronouns of choice impact the school community? It doesn't? In my experience, teens are much more accepting of trans classmates than some adults. Also giving teachers explicit permission to misgender kids is fucking dangerous).
-schools and colleges should exhaust all other options, such as using firstnames, to avoid requiring other individuals having to use preferred pronouns. (My initial response to this was "why the fuck" but a trans friend commented that the purpose is to make trans people's lives as difficult and as miserable as possible, and they're going after the most vulnerable trans people- trans kids)
-If a child does not want to use the toilet designated for their biological sex, and the school or college has considered all the relevant factors outlined above, they may wish to consider whether they can provide or offer the use of an alternative toilet facility. (this is weird because I'm pretty sure it contravenes the equality act, I'm pretty sure there is a legal duty on schools, and certainly colleges where over 18s attend to provide gender neutral toilet facilities if required. Also, not having an appropriate toilet defacto excludes children from school).
-Schools may have different uniform requirements for girls and boys. Some specify which uniform items are for girls and which are for boys, and similarly some schools have hairstyle rules which differ by sex. A child who is gender questioning should, in general, be held to the same uniform standards as other children of their sex at their school and schools may set clear rules to this effect. (So some schools could, for example, force a trans boy or non binary student to wear a skirt. Which is unfair and messed up. To be honest, I think sex segregated uniforms belong in the dark ages anyway, but this is just ridiculous.).
-There is no general duty to allow a child to ‘social transition’. (Firstly, there legally is. Secondly, why would a school not want to? This just gives licence to transphobic heads to say "oh, no, we won't allow you to transition", which is illegal, but the whole thing is just such a fucking mess. And again, why? Why would you not allow a child to transition socially? Unless you want to pretend that trans children don't exist?)
If you want to read the full guidance, it's available here, but trigger warnings etc do apply: https://consult.education.gov.uk/equalities-political-impartiality-anti-bullying-team/gender-questioning-children-proposed-guidance/supporting_documents/Gender%20Questioning%20Children%20%20nonstatutory%20guidance.pdf
Yes, the guidance is non-statutory, so in theory schools could ignore it, but in reality, OFSTED etc can use non-statutory guidance as a stick to beat schools with. At this stage, I think we all know the OFSTED don't give a fuck about anyone's mental health or wellbeing.
Interestingly, even the DfE's own lawyers have admitted the advice could open schools up to a legal challenge. This SchoolsWeek article on the topic is super interesting: https://schoolsweek.co.uk/trans-guidance-dfe-lawyers-said-schools-face-high-risk-of-being-sued/
Anyway, whilst the fact it's non statutory is something, this is not the victory some people are making it out to be, and the fact a document encouraging misgendering children has been published at all is fucked. This document could very much be used to prevent children from transitioning, and will likely prevent some children who have transitioned from attending school.
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writingcroissant · 5 months
Text
As a Trophy | Azriel x reader
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Summary: Azriel's mate reveals a heart-breaking part of her past.
A/N: I'm back friends! And with an Azriel fic this time! I've never posted anything even remotely acotar related, so I don't know if this will interest any of you, but I'm hoping it'll find its people lol. Please be aware that it's almost 1 a.m. right now, which means I'm very tired and this is not very well proofread. Also, they do the nasty twice in a row, because I wanted them to, and there's literally no other reason.
Word count: 5671
Warnings: smut right at the beginning, all the angst (it's a heavy one, people), talk of past SA (please tread carefully!), talk of canon typical violence and torture, but also some good old fluff towards the end
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Azriel watched in awe as her fingers curled into a tight fist and she twisted the sheets hard enough around her hand that he half expected the fabric to tear any second now. He loved when she got like this—eyes screwed shut, brow furrowed, jaw hanging open for the most melodic of sounds to freely brush past her lips. He'd die happily—right then, right there—if it meant he would get to revel in those sounds of hers for all eternity.
"That's it," he muttered, voice rough as he curled his own fingers into the pillow by her head, doing everything in his might to force down the rapidly rising pleasure burning its way through his every vein. It was always a fight when he was with her, always a challenge to hold off on his own release for long enough to make it good for her.
Azriel had had his fair share of romantic encounters, and he'd thought them all unique, all pleasurable in their own ways. That is, until he'd first lain with the one the Cauldron itself had deemed the one he was meant to love, to worship, to hold above everything he knew and was. All the ones that had come before had paled in comparison to her, paled into a mass of brief enjoyment he'd thought as good as it would get, and suddenly he'd found himself fighting to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible, when really, he was on the verge of forfeiting every last crumb of control at even the smallest of her touches.
It had been almost six months now. Six months since they had officially mated. One would think he'd get used to it, to her, at some point—that it would stop being so fucking good he couldn't think straight. But here he was, six months later, his every sense narrowed down to her, and his chest heaving as his hips ground into hers so hard he had to place a gentle hand on the top of her head to stop her from sliding further up the bed.
She wrapped her legs a little tighter around him, and he knew she was close. He could see it in the twitch of her right eyebrow, the tilt of her chin. He bent to catch her moans with his lips when it got physically painful to refrain from kissing her any longer, and when he licked into her mouth and found himself rewarded with a hand grazing the edge of his wing in the way she knew he liked, his thrusts got harder, faster, a little more desperate.
When she came, she gripped him tight enough to dig the tips of her nails into the skin of his shoulders, and he revelled in the flicker of pain. It was almost non-existent, and yet enough to finally tip him over the edge alongside her. He buried his face in her neck as he rode them both through their highs, and when she breathed his name right into the shell of his ear, he couldn't fight the deep groan that tore through his throat and broke with the last deep thrust.
It was only a short while later that he lay on his back and watched as her fingers traced the swirling lines of his tattoos. He could feel her glow on the other side of the thread connecting her soul to his own, and when he gave an affectionate tug, he watched her lips pull into a smile that had his heart stutter.
"I must say," she started with the voice that had come to narrate most of his dreams in the time since he'd first heard it. "That was some of your best work, shadowsinger."
He couldn't help the grin she somehow always managed to pull from him with minimum effort, and when he pinched her side, her surprised laugh shot straight into the depth of his chest.
"Do you have a Solstice gift for Cass yet?"
Azriel blinked at the sudden change of topic.
"Some of my best work, and it takes you exactly thirty seconds to mention another's name." Despite his words, he couldn't help the smile still resting on his face.
She watched him through lowered lashes, propping her chin on the back of her hand. "Do you want me to make it up to you?"
He ran a gentle palm down the side of her face, thumb brushing across her bottom lip. "What do you have in mind?"
She caught the tip of his thumb in between her teeth, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pushed her body upright from where she lay cuddled to his side. The sheet fell away from her body, exposed skin enough to make Azriel's head swim all over again, and when she swung her leg across his hips, straddling him, he had to swallow multiple times.
His hands found her thighs when she began to slowly, teasingly glide against his body, hands running up his torso for her fingers to spread on his chest. Her weight on him was soothing, her eyes attentive, and when she pressed her hips to his a little harder, Azriel felt every bit of the heat he'd never get enough of. Within a few seconds, he had her pinned beneath him once again, wings flaring at the grin she gave him.
"For someone whose job is patience," she said, biting her lip when Azriel once again pierced the tender flesh between her legs. "You sure don't have a lot of it."
Azriel brushed his lips against hers in the most innocent of kisses, interlocking his fingers with those of her right hand. "Not when it comes to you, my love."
He sensed the flutter of her heart across the bond and felt his own heart swell in response.
"I love you," he muttered against her lips, breathing in her whimpered reactions to his slow, rhythmic thrusts. He knew she liked her second rounds slow, the third ones rough again. He knew she'd come much faster the fourth time, though five and six were usually harder to pull from her.
He'd gathered most of his information within the first few days of their post-mating frenzy, and he'd tucked it all into the corner of his brain that was reserved solely for her.
His hand found the side of her head, and he held his gaze glued to hers as he brushed his thumb over the curve of her cheek. Time seemed to stutter to a stop as he felt her love for him set the bond aglow, his own threatening to overwhelm him.
"I never thought I'd feel like this." His words were but a breath against the silence of the room, forehead lowering to press against hers. "I would lay the world before your feet, my love."
He felt her tighten around him once again, her moans heavenly as he followed her into pure bliss, and when he kissed her, he felt her hands pull him closer by his hair.
He looked into her eyes when he spoke and saw in them reflected the emotions which he could barely put into words himself. "I spent my life wishing for a love such as we have," he muttered, watching her skin crinkle in the corners of her eyes as she grinned.
"Someone's sappy tonight," she breathed.
"Always," he smiled in return, kissing her deeply. "I have known only fear, and hate, and lies for the better part of my life. You're the one that showed me what it meant to be entirely free. To know everything there is to know about a person and offer every piece of me in return. No secrets. No lies. No masquerade."
Azriel didn't miss the way a shadow flickered across her face, the hands in his hair coming to a slow stop in their gentle caress.
"Is everything all right?" He offered a self-deprecating smile. "I'm laying it on thick tonight, I'm sorry."
"No, no," she rushed to say, smiling a smile a little too wide to be fully convincing. "That's not it, I promise."
He kissed her again and then slid off her to prop his head up on his elbow, watching her for a moment.
"I can practically see the gears turn in your head," he teased in a gentle voice, though it grew more serious as he continued. "Was it something I said?"
A twinge of fear rushed through his veins at the thought, though she was quick to drown it out.
"No," she said, her tone sure, unwavering. She sat up, and Azriel followed her every movement with his eyes. He could tell the ease had left her muscles, her back tense as she sat facing the foot of the bed.
Silence stretched as he waited for her to speak, uncertain of what could have caused this sudden change in her demeanour. He reached out a hand to run his palm up her back, but when she all but flinched, he felt his every muscle freeze. She had never flinched away from his hands. Azriel sat up. Something was seriously wrong.
"Y/N, you're scaring me," he muttered. "Did I do something to make you uncomfortable? Please speak to me."
She must've heard his rapidly rising panic, or perhaps she'd felt it through the bond, though when she finally turned, Azriel's worry only grew further. Sorrow was etched into her features, a despair he had seldom seen on her—if ever.
"I haven't... there's something you don't know, Azriel."
He watched her speak with his own throat caught in a vice. A thousand thoughts ran lapses in his mind, a thousand possible scenarios.
"What do you mean?" he heard himself ask, hand once again reaching out to touch her, as though his body sought her proximity on its own accord.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you."
-
She felt tears burn behind her eyes as she watched a hundred emotions flicker across Azriel's face. She knew it was long overdue to tell him the truth, knew she'd waited far too long, and yet she couldn't bear the thought of having to watch his face when she revealed a part of herself she'd done her best to hide away. But worse than that, she couldn't bear the thought of feeling him on the other side of the bond once she spoke the words. She wouldn't survive to feel his love for her shift once he found out. And so, she squeezed his hand in a silent apology before blocking him out—something she'd never done before.
She watched his worry shift into outright alert as he sat up a little straighter.
"I have a confession," she said before he had a chance to speak, still holding on to his hand. "And I need you to hear me out, because you deserve to know who I am." He hesitated, but nodded, wariness etched into his every feature.
She took a deep breath.
"As you know, my mother was High Fae, my father Illyrian." She watched his brows twitch closer together, confusion at the direction her story took, before nodding once again. "I have my mother's ears of course, and you know I don't have any Illyrian features." He nodded again, and she felt his eyes on her throat when she swallowed thickly.
It took every inch of willpower she had to turn her back on him, twisting where she sat to face the foot of the bed. Before his eyes lay the smooth, unmarred plates of her back—she'd made sure of that—and yet she knew in that moment, that it began to dawn on him what it was she wanted to show him. She felt it in the involuntary tightening of his grip on her hand, his gentle inhales coming to a stop as he held his breath.
Scraping together what little courage she could muster, she slowly lifted the glamour she'd held in place for years now, and her eyes fluttered shut as the grip on her hand turned ever tighter, his breathing resuming with a sharp intake of breath, a choked sound that had her heart cramp in her chest.
She could feel her heart beat up to her throat, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to feel Azriel's reassuring presence on the other end of that strong, glowing bond between them, but she didn't dare look at him. She knew his eyes were glued to the two thick, long scars tracing her skin from just above her shoulder blades right down to the centre of her back. Perfectly symmetrical and shining in angry red bulges of scar-tissue, she'd revealed to him the secret she'd kept hidden from everyone she knew in Velaris.
A sudden calm overcame her at the lifted glamour. No—this wasn't calm. It was numbness. It was the same numbness she felt whenever she thought back to the cause of her loss, though she'd gotten great at suppressing most of it.
Silence stretched on for a while, Azriel as still as death behind her. She didn't dare turn around to look at him when she continued to speak.
"It's somewhat of a long story, but the short version is this," she began, barely recognising her own voice as she fixed her eyes on the opposite wall. "I grew up in my father's war camp." She swallowed thickly. "He wasn't a very nice man, nor was he a fair one. He angered a lot of the warriors he was supposed to train and one day three of them showed up at our door to seek their revenge after he'd ridiculed them in front of the entire camp. They were angry, and I was unlucky enough to open the door."
She closed her eyes at the memory of their faces—the faces that haunted her even decades later. Her voice was hollow as she continued, her fingers growing numb in the grip Azriel maintained, though it undoubtedly helped to ground her.
"They dragged me into the forest by the camp, and they ... took their time. I don't know how much time passed exactly, but it felt like hours. I won't go into detail, but ... well, when they were done, and I was half-dead, they pulled a knife and took my wings. As a trophy, they said." Silence stretched on, as she sorted through her memories. "I don't remember a whole lot after that. I think I passed out from the pain, but someone must've found me, because I woke up in the healer's hut."
She felt wetness gather on her cheeks—tears she hadn't even noticed break free from the corners of her eyes. She stared at the wall opposite her, unblinking.
"They healed me enough to walk, though for a long time my back hurt so bad I had to use a cane. My father," she hesitated. "My father has always hated that I inherited my mother's Fae ears. When I lost the one thing marking me as an Illyrian, too, he sent me away. He told me I didn't belong there anymore, that I wasn't a true Illyrian without my wings. I left a few nights after it happened, and I came to Velaris."
When she stopped talking, and silence remained all she heard, she reached out carefully across the bond, flinching back when she was met with nothing but ice. It took everything in her to turn around and face Azriel, and when she did, it took even more to not shy away. His shadows had gathered around him, his eyes unmoving, still fixed on where her back had been but a moment ago, and in that moment, he looked every bit the terrifying shadowsinger he was to the outside world.
She lifted a hand to his cheek, and as though awoken by the featherlight touch of her fingers, he shot up from his seat, letting go of the hand he had held all throughout her story. Her heart stuttered at the look in his eyes, though he didn't meet her gaze, pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt as he went.
"Az," she muttered, half-heartedly reaching out for his hand, though he was too fast in crossing the room with a few wide steps and heading straight for the balcony door.
"Azriel," she tried again, hoping for a pleading note in her tone, though she could barely shake the hollowness that still held her in a tight grip.
He was gone before she could muster the courage to follow, and something within her shrivelled at the thought of his anger. She should have told him earlier, should've told him before their mating ceremony. He would have deserved to know his mate wasn't whole, especially as he was Illyrian himself.
As she stared at the open balcony doors, curtains wafting in a gentle breeze, she couldn't help but wonder if her confession had sunk the one person keeping her afloat.
-
Cassian watched with a wide grin as Nesta hid her own smile behind the rim of her glass. It was a rare sight, but his heart swelled at the sight of her joy, and he knew Feyre, Mor, and perhaps even Rhys, felt the same.
"I can't believe you kneed him in his private parts," Feyre giggled, while Mor just swirled her drink around in her glass.
"He deserved it."
"I'm sure he did, dear cousin," Rhys drawled, failing to fight a smirk of his own. "Though I must say—"
As Rhys broke off and his gaze moved to something behind Cassian's back, Cass turned to see what his brother was looking at.
Y/N stood barefoot at the bottom of the stairs, only clad in a nightgown, and hands hanging loose by her sides. It took but a single glance to realise something was off, and at the look on her face, Cassian felt himself grow alert.
"Y/N," Rhys furrowed his brow, noting the blank stare in her eyes. "Is everything all right?"
With the first tear to roll down her cheek, the air suddenly changed, and Cassian stood as Feyre shot up to check on their friend.
"What happened?", Cassian heard himself ask. He noted Azriel's absence when he thought them together in their shared room, and dread weighed down his insides in expectation of the worst. "Where's Azriel?"
He held his breath as he awaited her answer, and felt his friends do the same. Nesta was rigid at his side, Rhys as alert as Cassian himself, all while Feyre kept her arms slung around their brother's mate.
"Y/N," Mor spoke in gentle tones, rising from her seat now, too. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"He's... gone."
From one moment to the next, the room grew so quiet that only the howling winds broke through the silence, as they caressed the house's exterior.
"What do you mean, he's gone?" Mor asked, a note of panic mixing in with her worry.
"He left. Through the balcony door."
Cass shared a glance with Rhys, and he knew from the look in his eyes, that he was attempting to reach Azriel through the use of his powers. A moment passed—a moment Feyre used to get Y/N to take a seat on the couch—before Rhys gave the smallest shake of his head, and spoke directly into Cassian's mind.
Barriers up.
Cassian's eyes shot back to Y/N, who, even seated, stared straight ahead as though lost deep in thought. He softened his tone as he spoke to her. "Sweetheart, what happened?"
He watched her eyes snap to his, before they moved and latched on to Rhys, and he knew from the way his eyes grew distant, that she was sharing what had gone down between her and Azriel shortly before he had left.
They all flinched when Rhys slammed down his glass, and the table shook where it stood.
Rhys stood now, too, and it had been a long while since Cassian had seen his brother in such a struggle to maintain his composure.
"Rhys?" Feyre asked, eyes darting back and forth between her mate and her friend. "What is going on?" 
Rhysand's eyes grew filled with indescribable sadness, and as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, Cassian noticed her give a single tight nod. Before he knew it, he felt his vision grow cloudy with images shared by their High Lord, all accompanied by a few words spoken directly into his mind.
She allowed me to share.
Cassian recognised the bedroom immediately—dimly lit, and shared by two of his closest friends. He watched as she sat before Azriel, turning her back on him to reveal smooth skin. For a moment, he felt like an impostor in what obviously was a very intimate moment. But as she lifted a glamour he'd never known her to carry, Cassian felt nausea twist his stomach in a firm grip. An audible gasp ran through the air, and he knew Feyre, Mor, and Nesta must be bearing witness to the same images he saw, the same words he now heard through the muffled filter of Rhysand's mind.
...grew up in my father's war camp...
...they were angry...
...took their time...
...as a trophy, they said...
Cassian's nails dug painfully into the skin of his palms, and as the vision dissolved, he witnessed the varying shades of horror on each of his friends' faces. Feyre's cheeks were wet with tears, Mor had grown pale as the wall, and Nesta... Nesta looked every bit the mistress of death he'd always known her to be.
"He left right after I told him," Y/N said, her voice small, with words all but whispered into the silence, and he knew what she was thinking, knew from the look on her face where her mind had gone. "I don't know if he'll be back... but either way, I'm worried he'll do something reckless. I don't want him to get hurt." Unshed tears rose in her eyes, but her face remained as numb as it had been when she first appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "I know I should've told him before we officially mated, should've told all of you as well. You're... my family now. I'm sorry I've been dishonest."
As Cassian fixed his gaze on his brother's love, the woman who'd evidently gone through enough to bring even the strongest of all Illyrians to their knees, he didn't have to think twice about where Azriel had gone.
Rhys stepped forward, his face schooled back into the composed expression of a High Lord, though there was no denying the deep-seated sadness he still felt. "It was your story to tell when and how you saw fit. You do not owe anyone an apology." He held her gaze through his every word, and when she gave a weak nod, he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "I shall go and see if I can find him. Please do not worry. I'm sure he'll return unharmed."
He bowed deep before her, and then turned to stride towards the balcony to depart as Azriel had done. His wings appeared as he walked, and his gaze met Cassian in a silent question to follow.
Cassian turned to do so, though something held him back. He threw a glance at his weeping friend, and his heart ached for her—for all that she had endured.
He knew what it meant for an Illyrian to lose their wings—he'd gotten close enough himself to recognise the never-ending pain it must cause, especially when one sees themselves surrounded by Illyrians day and night.
He turned back to fully face Y/N, and as he did so, lowered himself to his knee before her. Seeking out one of her hands, he lifted her knuckles to his brow, before lowering them to his lips, and meeting her gaze once again.
"I am so sorry."
-
Inky blackness crept through every corner of the room, and despite her perfect view of the stars through the open balcony door—a view that had always calmed her into a dreamless sleep—she hadn't been able to find a moment of peace. Worry held her heart in an iron grip; worry that she'd waited too long to tell him, that she'd driven him away by her seeming lack of trust.
Only that it hadn't been a lack of trust that had caused her to withhold such a severe part of her past. It had been a wish for an untainted love—the wish to not only spare him of the knowledge, but to leave it behind entirely. To not have it impact the most important relationship of her life. She'd refused to grant those faces such power.
Azriel would look at her differently now. If he even was to come back, that is. Even if he didn't want to, he'd surely think her damaged. Incomplete. He'd mourn the joy it would have been to have a mate with wings of her own.
She couldn't help the pain in her chest as she thought of those wasted opportunities. She could've flown by his side, could've soared through the skies like she'd done countless times before, and witness the joy flying brought to his face, too.
Her breathing stopped as the unmistakable sound of the door interrupted her thoughts. She didn't move, didn't open her eyes. Why, she didn't know. Hadn't she waited desperately for him to return?
She lay perfectly still, and didn't dare reach across the bond, either. Perhaps he'd only come to pack some of his things. Perhaps he wanted to leave before she woke up. Perhaps it wasn't even Azriel, but Mor or Feyre checking in.
She failed to suppress a slight flinch as gentle fingers brushed across her cheek, and her heartbeat doubled in speed when she felt the uneven caress of the hands she'd recognise anywhere. She hadn't even heard him approach.
"I can hear your heartbeat, my love." His voice was but a whisper in the night, his breath kissing her skin, as he lowered himself to his knees beside the bed, hand never leaving her cheek. "I know you're awake."
When she finally opened her eyes, and saw his face illuminated by the dim faelight she'd kept on, she was met with the overwhelming love that always filled his gaze when he looked at her, and all of a sudden, she hated that she'd doubted him for even a second.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Azriel beat her to it, his tone soft in the silence.
"I shouldn't have left like that," he said, and his voice shook. "There are so many things I should have said. It breaks my heart that I left you here right after you lay all your trust in me, and I will regret it for the rest of my existence." He sought out her hand beneath the blanket, and kissed her palm, before placing it on his cheek. She was surprised to feel wetness there, a tear breaking free to roll down his cheek as he closed his eyes.
"You are so strong my love. Stronger than all of us. When I think of what they did—" His voice grew harsher, the last of his words spoken through gritted teeth.
"Don't," she breathed, gently brushing her thumb across his cheek. "Don't think about it. It's why I didn't tell you sooner, I—... I couldn't bear the thought of yet another weight on your shoulders."
His eyes flew open, gaze fixing on hers. "My shoulders?"
"Well, I—" she broke off, swallowed, and focussed on his lips to avoid his gaze. "I didn't want to burden you with the knowledge of a broken mate."
He took hold of the hand on his cheek.
"Look at me," he pleaded, voice gentle, thumb running across the back of her hand. When she lifted her gaze, she was met with enough emotion swimming in his eyes to fill her heart to the brim. "You are not, and will never be, broken. Nor a burden, for that matter." He stared at her for a moment, as though waiting for his words to sink in. "I have waited five hundred years for you, and I would gladly wait five hundred more if that was what it took to get to you. You are perfection. You are everything I've ever hoped for, and so much more. You are part of my soul, and I will not leave you alone in this. I will carry this with you. I will be your wings, my love. I will carry you wherever you want to go, and I will do so happily till the day I take my last breath. I will carry you to the end of our world if you wish it."
Her cheeks felt wet again, and her lips twisted into a watery smile. She didn't trust her voice right now, so instead of replying, she scooted over, motioning for Azriel to join her in bed. His fresh scent engulfed her as he pulled her to his chest and placed his chin on her head. He must've showered before he came here.
-
Only Y/N's deep breaths filled the silence around. It was a long while before she spoke again—so long, in fact, that Azriel had already thought her asleep. Her voice was quiet; barely more than a breath.
"Some mornings I wake up, and I don't remember ever having had wings of my own," she confided against his chest, and Azriel's heart gave an aching pull at the gut-wrenching sadness in her voice. "I start my day without the slightest bit of grief, and then I'm in the shower, or in the kitchen, or in the training ring, and it hits me. I've gotten so good at maintaining my glamour that sometimes I forget it's even there, and I have to lift it to remind myself that I didn't dream up those scars."
He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream, and reduce this house—this entire city to rubble. He wanted to burn down everything in his path until he found something that could take away her pain, something to undo everything she had endured.
"The only time it does slip," she continued, and Azriel watched her closely once he noticed the switch in her tone. She seemed... embarrassed almost. "Is when we... when I... well, when I come. I can feel them then, pressing into the mattress."
Azriel lifted a brow, wondering how he'd never noticed, and when she saw his expression, and felt his confusion through the bond, she cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze once again. "Whenever you see my back," she explained. "I'm focussing every last bit of concentration on keeping my glamour from slipping. It's why I never... why I can't—"
Realisation dawned, and Azriel remembered those few nights he'd asked her to get on her knees—the nights he'd held her hips in his hands and drove into her from behind. She'd never been able to come from that angle; had claimed it didn't feel as good as it did when they were face-to-face, and he'd stopped suggesting.
He ran a hand down his face, shame flooding his veins, shame that he'd never noticed that there was more to it than a preferred angle, when all of a sudden, she took his hand and pulled it away, revealing a spark of softness in her eye, a smile twisting the corners of her lips.
"I'm so sorry," he rasped. "If I'd known—"
"I know," she smiled. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You were so understanding, Azriel. I should've just been honest with you from the start."
As Azriel pressed a long kiss to her forehead, the room grew quiet yet again, and he could see the battle in her eyes, as her thoughts seemed to take a different route. All of a sudden, she seemed hesitant—careful even.
It wasn't long before she opened her mouth to ask the question he'd been dreading to answer ever since he stepped into the room.
"You tracked them down, didn't you?"
His heart ached at the look in her eyes—her voice small, wounded. He gave a single nod, searching her gaze for a hint of disapproval, of disappointment. He didn't dare speak, his every muscle tense.
She gave a shaking exhale and a nod of herself. "I thought so." A heartbeat of silence passed, before— "Did you kill them?"
Azriel's hand twitched at that—at the thought of going back and slitting their throats. It had taken everything in him not to do it, but he'd wanted her to have the chance of doing it herself. He didn't think she would want to do it, didn't even think he wanted her to do it, but still. The choice was hers.
"Not yet," Azriel mumbled.
She nodded again, seemingly lost in thought.
"They're in my dungeon," Azriel added hesitantly. "Well, two of them are. The third one died in the battle with Hybern. The lucky bastard."
She searched his face. "What did you do to them?"
-
Read Part Two here: Scars and All
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sanakiras · 3 months
Text
BLOOM FOR ME
PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader
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WORD COUNT — 18.1k
SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.
TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!
♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song
NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x
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you and kim mingyu just don't work.
to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.
and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.
all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.
you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.
soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.
and then there’s mingyu.
he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.
the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.
you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.
yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.
perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.
non-existent.
neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.
for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.
or, well — that used to be the case.
because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.
it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.
had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.
it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.
but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.
neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.
after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.
but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.
when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.
“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.
“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”
“what’s there to talk about?”
“what we did. together.”
“we fucked. so what?”
oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.
“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”
“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”
“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”
“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”
even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.
“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”
sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”
his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.
“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”
“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.
“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.
to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.
many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?
he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.
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mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.
he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.
his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.
if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.
and now, those feelings have only increased.
his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.
then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.
god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?
it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.
when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—
—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.
it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?
then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.
he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.
cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”
mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”
“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”
that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.
the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.
your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.
it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.
tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.
which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.
by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.
well, shit.
the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.
what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.
he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.
it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.
“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”
mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.
it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.
it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.
both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.
it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.
mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.
“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”
oh.
he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.
so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”
“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”
“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”
you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”
the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”
“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”
god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.
“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”
mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”
“not even a little bit?”
you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”
he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”
“i said no basics.”
“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”
“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.
“you’re evil.”
“thank you.”
he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”
“congratulations.”
“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”
“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”
mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”
“oh, you mean like a conversation?”
he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”
“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”
“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”
“which of your friends is closest to you?”
yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.
he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”
“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.
“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”
“no.”
“why?”
“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”
“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”
“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”
“it’s not that.”
“what is it then?”
“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”
he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.
physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”
“okay. anything i should know?”
you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”
he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”
not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.
mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.
once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”
“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.
“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.
and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.
it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.
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“hey. mingyu.”
he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”
“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”
“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.
“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”
“many times, actually.”
“good. ‘cause you are.”
jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.
“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.
mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”
“what does she do?”
“law.”
“she nice?”
“to a specific group of people, yeah.”
“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”
“not mean. just distant. very distant.”
“that’s new.”
“what is?”
“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”
“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”
“what do you mean?”
“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”
“how do you know?”
mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”
“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”
the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”
jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”
“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”
a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”
“soonyoung’s party.”
“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.
“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”
“ah, you like her.”
“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”
“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”
mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”
“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”
“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”
“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”
“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”
jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”
“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”
“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”
“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”
right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.
“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.
it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”
jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”
“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”
he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”
mingyu frowns at that. “how?”
and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”
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the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.
someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.
you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”
“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”
“no, i like it this way.”
“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”
“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”
“what’re you working on?”
“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”
he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.
“are you always this much on edge?”
“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”
the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”
“not exactly the word i would use.”
“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”
you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”
he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”
“yeah. i’m not attending.”
“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”
“gosh, poor you.”
“i’m serious. it sucks.”
“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”
“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”
“so?”
“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.
“why?”
“why not?”
“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”
“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”
he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”
“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”
you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”
he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”
when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”
“ten.”
“dress code?”
“go for a cocktail dress.”
twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”
“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”
“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”
and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.
mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?
you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”
he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.
the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”
“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”
“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”
“must get quiet after a while.”
“i like it that way.”
your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.
once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.
you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.
as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”
the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”
mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.
the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”
which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”
before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.
“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”
“noted.”
once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.
and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.
“you okay?”
“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.
he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.
“am i imagining things—”
“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”
joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”
mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.
but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.
what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.
“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”
in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”
“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.
you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”
“what are you talking about?”
“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”
“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”
“why?”
“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”
his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”
whatever the fuck that means.
your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.
the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.
and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.
mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.
being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.
so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.
you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.
chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.
though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.
after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”
mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”
you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.
the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.
mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.
as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.
his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”
“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”
he snickers. “you hear that often?”
“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”
“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”
“doesn’t everyone?”
“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”
“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.
mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”
he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”
“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”
“why?”
when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.
“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.
before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.
whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.
“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.
so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”
they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”
he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.
it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”
the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”
“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”
she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.
but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”
and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”
you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”
the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.
worst thing is that she’s probably right.
you and mingyu just don’t work.
and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?
the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.
when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”
even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”
“i’m fine.”
“i’ll take you back.”
“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”
mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.
then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.
goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.
she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.
mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.
the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.
god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.
you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.
of course it’s him.
“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.
“why am i here?”
“what do you mean?”
you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”
“are you angry at me?”
“answer the question.”
“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”
you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”
“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”
“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”
“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”
what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.
you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”
“well—what?”
“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”
“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”
“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.
it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.
“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.
so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”
he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.
whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.
his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.
mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.
there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.
you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.
holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.
“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”
the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”
with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.
“are you sure?”
“yeah. please let me.”
“okay. just make it quick.”
in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.
because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.
your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.
his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.
another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.
“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.
it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.
“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.
you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.
“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”
the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”
he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.
mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.
“god—want me to fuck you?”
pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”
“fine. bend over the sink, then.”
the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.
so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.
his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.
all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”
you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”
it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”
“don’t act like you don’t like it.”
he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”
god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.
his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.
and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.
“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.
“how hard d’you want it?”
“as hard as you want. i can take it.”
he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.
his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.
you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.
it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”
“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”
you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”
“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.
mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.
you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.
he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.
“are you gonna cum, gyu?”
you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”
“i want you to.”
“jesus, don’t say that—”
oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.
“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.
his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”
“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”
his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.
it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.
he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”
he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”
“you’re quite literally inside me.”
“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”
“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”
“great. level 2 is next, then.”
“god, forget i said anything.”
“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”
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something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.
because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.
and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.
the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.
and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.
he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.
it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.
something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.
so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.
20:23: you look cute when you’re focused
the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.
so he texts back.
20:24: i always look cute ;)
tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”
you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”
“no. you’re just scary.”
“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”
“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”
“wanna come over to my dorm?”
“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”
“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”
“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”
as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.
“mingyu.”
“hm?”
“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”
he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”
“she likes you.”
“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”
“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.
that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.
“what?”
“you’re jealous.”
“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.
“it’s actually kinda hot.”
“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”
“and yet you are.”
“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”
he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.
as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.
once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.
you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”
“i’m fine.”
he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”
you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.
mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.
so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”
he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”
when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”
“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”
“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”
“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.
“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”
“do you even have the time to help me?”
he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”
“always so humble.”
“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”
“whatever makes you sleep at night.”
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mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.
he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.
and you hate how easily you get used to it.
for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.
which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.
so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.
as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.
“your girlfriend texting you again?”
mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”
“she might as well be.”
“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”
shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”
“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”
joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.
“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”
ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”
“have you told her you like her?”
“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”
joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”
“is she open with you?”
“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”
mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.
give it time.
which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.
you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.
just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.
a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.
“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”
his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”
“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”
“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”
with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”
“what do you have in mind?”
he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”
now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”
he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”
you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.
damn that asshole for making you like him this much.
saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.
mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.
it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.
your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.
then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.
before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.
he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.
mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.
watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.
you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.
shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.
it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.
you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.
the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.
it’s all yells of happiness on the field.
the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.
you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.
following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.
mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.
when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.
he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.
but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”
“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.
“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”
you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”
he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”
“something i’m very aware of.”
he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.
“wanna go catch a drink with me?”
“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”
“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”
he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”
you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.
“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.
you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”
“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.
once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.
“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”
oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.
you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”
you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”
christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.
he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.
you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.
“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.
his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.
you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.
arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.
“fuck, fuck, baby—”
you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”
it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.
his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”
“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”
he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”
“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.
the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.
both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.
you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.
“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.
maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”
“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”
he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”
“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.
he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?
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another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.
it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.
you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.
it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.
when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.
the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”
he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”
“absolutely.”
he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”
you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”
he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”
you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”
the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”
he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”
his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”
as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”
“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”
your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”
his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.
as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.
you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.
maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.
one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.
you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.
now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.
you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.
they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.
still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.
smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.
out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.
you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.
when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.
slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.
you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.
‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’
he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.
and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.
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you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.
looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”
“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.
you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”
“is there anything i can do in return?”
“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”
the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”
a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”
your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”
it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”
“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”
the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.
he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.
and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.
whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.
but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.
after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.
when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.
“why have you been avoiding me?”
“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”
“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”
“i haven’t been avoiding you.”
“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”
you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”
he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”
“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.
“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”
“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.
“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”
he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”
it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”
“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”
“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”
either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.
your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.
kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.
so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.
he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.
“fuck.”
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it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.
which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.
it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.
you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”
minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”
hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.
“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.
“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”
he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.
your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.
mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”
he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.
there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”
they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.
he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”
“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”
“it’s not that easy.”
seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”
the other two just deadpan a stare at him.
on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.
you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.
the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.
as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.
“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”
when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.
personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.
biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”
“and? what’s your judgement?”
“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”
he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”
him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.
people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.
and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.
in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.
“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.
you exhale when he doesn’t.
knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.
minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.
as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”
“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”
he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”
you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”
“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”
taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”
minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”
the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”
he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”
you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”
hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”
with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.
there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.
“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.
“mind if i join you?”
of course. why are you even surprised?
without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”
“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.
you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”
luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.
he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.
since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.
the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.
his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.
you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.
liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.
the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.
“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”
“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”
your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”
of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?
mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”
that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.
“can i ask you something?”
you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.
“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”
an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”
“why not?”
blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”
“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”
“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”
he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.
“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.
“no, you don’t.”
“how would you know?”
you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”
“why?”
“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”
“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”
“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”
mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”
“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”
“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”
“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”
“since… always.”
“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”
“no, but i liked you.”
“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”
“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”
“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”
it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.
every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.
but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.
another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.
the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.
“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”
his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”
the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”
it’s not often you’re speechless.
he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.
“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”
he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”
“have a good night, gyu.”
you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.
as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”
letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”
“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”
you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.
“why do you even want me to?”
“‘cause i like you.”
“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”
“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”
“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”
“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”
his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.
mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.
“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”
you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.
“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”
but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”
“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”
“why don’t you wanna try?”
“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”
“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”
“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”
“then explain them to me!”
“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”
“no, i wouldn’t.”
“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”
“how do you even know that?”
“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”
“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”
the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”
“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”
“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.
and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.
“i don’t wanna lose you.”
he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”
his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.
it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.
mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.
he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.
you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.
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thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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Melon Pang! (PART ONE) — CEO Choi Seungcheol
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✧ The second chapter — Part of the SEVENTEEN World Series
The last thing Seungcheol expected was to argue with a random stranger in a bakery after an awfully stressful day. But how could he not when this person was about to take the last melon pan? You were in a similar position. Your boss had been nagging you non-stop at work, and all you wanted was your favorite snack, followed by a movie marathon on the couch. Instead, you find yourself having to deal with this stubborn guy who thinks the whole world is his.
✧ Genre: CEO au; coffee shop au; SMUT (in part two), fluff, angst, slow-burn, strangers to lovers ♥ Pairing: barista!reader x managing CEO!Choi Seungcheol ✧ Word count: 32k+ ✦ Warnings: swearing, many petty arguments between the reader and Cheol, stubborn Cheol, stubborn reader, power abuse (reader’s boss is an ass), time skips, several long flashbacks (let me know if I missed any!) ♕ Shout out: thanks again to @fugaciousserendipity for your input, and a special thank you to the wonderful @wongyuseokie for beta-reading for me, as well as hyping me the fuck uuuuup!!! love you, muah 💜
✎ Notes (please read before sending me any questions!): 1) this is only the first part of the chapter since it's going to be waaaay longer than I anticipated LOL. also means that this is only the beginning and you will probably have many many questions at the end. but I promise, part two will be gooooood hehe 🤭; 2) there are some snippets from Wonwoo’s chapter since it takes place at the same time, so I advise you to read Don't Tell The Boss if you don't want to get confused; 3) the chapter is written from the perspective of Seungcheol AND reader; 4) I just want to clear something up in case people have questions about it: the snack I'm referring to in the chapter is a melon pan (a Japanese snack), but I named the chapter melon pang! since it's a wordplay on the seventeen song Pang! 🥰
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Seungcheol felt like absolute shit after the day he’d just had. Between him having to yell at the HR team for fucking up some important documentation and finding a piece of jewelry that looked suspiciously like the one he’d gifted his sister at Wonwoo’s place, he felt like he’d gone through almost every single emotion in one day, even a few he didn’t know existed until today.
That’s why after providing some final feedback on Wonwoo’s quarterly report – which he’d promised to read before the end of the day – he packed up his things and headed towards his favorite bakery that was located near the SEVENTEEN World HQ. It was already 9.30 PM, but if he hurried a little bit, he’d be just in time to grab a snack before closing time at 10 PM.
Even before SEVENTEEN World had been established, JamJam was the bakery that Seungcheol frequented whenever he needed a little treat. In his case, that was usually a melon pan, the CEO’s number one comfort food.
Especially after going through something stressful, the soft and fluffy interior of the melon pan combined with its cookie-like crust, was enough to make him momentarily forget about his worries.
JamJam just so happened to have the best ones in Seoul. Flavor Factory SEVENTEEN also produced their version of the melon pan, but in Seungcheol’s opinion, that one didn’t even come close to the ones at JamJam. Of course, no hate towards Mingyu. The guy knew how to make tasty food, but he wasn’t going to win this battle, no matter how hard he tried to improve his recipe – the blind tastings that the chef had made his Hyungs sit through over the years proved again and again that JamJam’s melon pan was still the number one in the city. 
With a mask disguising most of his face, Seungcheol exited his car and quickly crossed the road before entering the small but cozy bakery.
After quickly greeting the owner, Mr. Hashimoto, at the counter, he hurried towards the back of the store, where he knew the melon pan was usually located. Seungcheol was aware that it was late and that there was a chance that his favorite snack would already be gone, but he still had a little bit of hope. In the worst-case scenario, he’d end up eating a cream pan or some shokupan instead. 
As he neared the familiar bread baskets, he spotted exactly what he was looking for, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a single melon pan that had been left behind.
“Thank God,” he mumbled, slightly speeding up his steps to get to it.
However, the CEO wasn’t aware of the fact that there was another person in the store looking for that same sweet Japanese bread, which is why it came as a total surprise when someone else beat him to it, snatching the treat away just mere seconds before he’d been able to grab it.  
Seungcheol was in shock, furiously blinking as he tried to process what had just happened. His eyes slowly fixated on the woman who was currently holding onto his snack.
Now, he did say not too long ago that he would be fine settling for another snack if he couldn’t get ahold of a melon pan, but that was before it was practically ripped away right in front of his eyes.
Was he overreacting? His friends would probably tell him that he was. Did he care? No, he absolutely did not, not after the horrible day he’d had.
A movie marathon, your favorite snack and a relaxing evening on the couch. That was your plan for tonight. No worries, no stress, just a bunch of fictional characters fighting bad guys in an alternative universe – anything sounded better than having to deal with the world you were living in.
In the real world, you had to deal with your piece-of-shit boss who had once again managed to ruin your day. Today, he’d nagged you for not working fast enough, and as a punishment, he made you clean, restock, and close the shop all by yourself – turning your original 8-hour shift into a 10-hour one.
Then there was your male co-worker, Sanghoon, who’d been allowed to go home early, just because he’d “done such a good job today”. Right. What job? Being lazy and careless? You’d been doing most of the work at the coffee bar, which included fixing Sanghoon’s mistakes, for as long as you could remember.
How the guy had gotten a job at a coffee bar was a mystery to you. For someone who worked as a barista, he sure sucked at making coffee. There wasn’t a day that went by without a customer coming to you to complain about their coffee tasting like shit. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them because it really was that bad. You’d tasted Sanghoon’s coffee before and had almost thrown up at the taste of the overly bitter and sour liquid he’d produced.
So, for the sake of the company image and the customers, whenever time allowed for it, you prepared the majority of the orders.
As if that wasn’t enough, his lazy ass also refused to clean anything properly aside from occasionally wiping down the tables, sweeping the floors, and starting the automatic cleaning program on the coffee machines.
You were the only one busting your ass to make sure that everything was always in pristine condition – because no one wanted crusty-ass coffee. It sometimes made you wonder whether all of your hard work was worth it because it seriously felt like you were running the whole shop by yourself.  
Still, that wasn’t even the worst, though. No. The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that your incompetent co-worker constantly kept messing up orders left and right. At one point it, got so bad that you felt the need to double-check every single order he touched before it could even reach the customer.
There had been one incident where a customer had asked for oat milk because she was allergic to regular milk. Sanghoon, who had been in charge of preparing orders that day because you already had too many things to do, had completely disregarded the comments attached to the order and prepared the latte with regular milk.
In other words, it ended with the customer needing her EpiPen, a nasty lawsuit, and your boss screaming at you for being a “useless disgrace to the company” without even listening to your side of the story – all while Sanghoon just stood there and let you take the fall for his carelessness.
Very quickly, you learned that the guy really didn’t give a shit about any of it. He knew that when the occasion called for it, you’d be there to pick up his mess, and it infuriated you to no end. You hated yourself for putting up with it every single time, but you also knew that if you just sat back and let it happen, the shop would be out of business, and your boss would find a way to blame you for the whole thing.
Besides, even if your boss caught him slacking, he still treated him like a goddamn star player, always overlooking his failures and praising him for doing the absolute bare minimum. But God forbid if you made even the tiniest mistake. Your boss would immediately let you hear about it, even if that meant criticizing you in front of the customers – it was fair to say that you hated the man with a passion.
At least JamJam, your favorite bakery in town, had never disappointed you.
That was proven again when your eyes spotted the last melon pan, lifting your mood almost immediately. You nearly did a little happy dance after you’d taken it out of the basket, but then quickly decided against it when you noticed the CCTV camera pointing straight at you. Now was not the time to embarrass yourself in public. 
“Excuse me?” You turned around at the sound of a male voice, assuming that he was talking to you since the bakery was pretty much empty at this hour. 
“Can I help you?” you asked wearily, raising your eyebrows at the blond man who had approached you – the mask he was wearing covered most of his face, so it was hard to get a read on him. And seeing as you’d gone through your fair share of uncomfortable encounters with strangers, it was only natural for you to have your guard up.
To your surprise, he pointed towards the hand that was holding the snack you were planning on buying. “Would you mind giving me that melon pan?” he asked. “I really need it tonight.”
Your weary expression slowly morphed into a confused one as you raised the sweet bread slightly. “This... melon pan?” you asked, wondering where this was going.
The stranger nodded. “Yes, that one. I just got off from work, and I’ve had a pretty rough day, so I need it. It’s my favorite snack, and I’m not planning to leave the store without it.”
You almost wanted to laugh at the audacity of this guy. As if you would hand it over just because he supposedly ‘needed’ it. It wasn’t your problem that you’d been faster.
“Well, it happens to be my favorite snack too, and I’ve also had a pretty rough day, so no. I’m not giving it to you.”
“Oh, come on. What’s it going to take? Name your price,” he motioned before reaching into his pocket to pull out what you assumed was his wallet. What the hell was he doing?
“I just told you I’m not giving you this melon pan,” you responded firmly – your free hand automatically squeezed into a fist as you tried to keep your blood pressure under control.
Getting into an argument with some random stranger was not part of the relaxing evening you’d planned. 
“And I said, name your price. Everyone has one. How much do you want for it? Fifty thousand won? A hundred thousand? More? Just tell me. Money is not an issue,” he shrugged nonchalantly, his wallet now wide open for you to see.
His outrageous proposition left you in a state of awe. The disgust was no doubt evident on your face, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. 
“Are you seriously trying to bribe me for a fucking melon pan?!”
Judging by the way he was dressed, you were pretty certain that the guy was loaded – the combination of the dark brown suit and black coat he was wearing probably cost more than what you earned in a whole month.
Regardless, that didn’t give him the right to treat others like garbage. 
“Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t look like he was. “You have something that I want. You’re not giving it to me, so I’m offering you an alternative that will make both of us happy,” he stated, completely oblivious to the fact that he was coming off as an entitled asshole.
“You are so unbelievably rude,” you scoffed. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and entitled as you. Just wow. If that’s how you treat people in your life, then you probably don’t have many friends.”
It was clear that your words had struck a nerve when the shameless stranger narrowed his eyes in response.
“I’m rude? I think you are pretty rude to someone who’s just trying to reason with you. Trust me, if you had any idea who I was, you wouldn’t be speaking to me like that.”
Oh, look, he’s a narcissist too... surprising.
“Listen, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I’m going to say this one time. I don’t give two shits about who you are, and I’m not giving you my melon pan, so you can keep your damn money. Now, I’m going to walk away, pay for my snack and leave so that this,” you motioned between the two of you, “doesn’t escalate into something worse. Have a good life,” was the last thing you said before rushing towards the checkout.
Your blood was boiling by the time you left the store. The whole encounter with the rude stranger had put another damper on your mood, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth. Because just who the fuck did he think he was? And what kind of weirdo would try to bribe someone for a melon pan?
You truly hoped to never see him again. 
Once again, Seungcheol was left frozen in his spot, watching as the woman who’d just outright disrespected him walked away with what was supposed to have been his snack.
If he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, then this was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back.
He was a grumbling mess as he left the store with a bag full of goods. Mr. Hashimoto, who had most likely heard the whole dispute, had been nice enough not to say anything about it. Instead, he’d given Seungcheol some additional cream pans and some of his homemade nama chocolate on the house in an attempt to cheer up the sulky CEO. Very kind, of course, but any appetite Seungcheol had before coming to JamJam was now completely ruined as a result of the squabble.
On the drive home, his mind kept going back to the insults you’d thrown at his face. Rude? Ignorant? Entitled? Ha! Who were you to say that about him?
Seungcheol considered himself anything but that. He had plenty of good friends who liked him for who he was, whereas you, some random stranger who didn’t even know him, had literally made those assumptions based on the few minutes that he spent in your presence.
He didn’t really want to admit it, but your words kept bugging him. Why? That probably had something to do with you being the first one ever to tell him that to his face. Seungcheol was so used to people treating him with nothing but respect – well, that is, if you take the other twelve CEOs out of the equation – that he hadn’t expected such resistance from a stranger like you.
But then again, you hadn’t been able to recognize him with his disguise, and he liked to keep it that way. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if reporters got wind of this humiliating incident. 
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When Seungcheol finally entered his apartment around 11 PM, he was immediately greeted by a little white ball of fur happily sprinting his way, her tail wagging and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she jumped at his legs. 
“Hello, sweet girl. I’ve missed you,” he cooed, reaching down to lift up the small, adorable dog who was all too excited to be reunited with her owner after a long day. “I take it you’ve missed me too, Kkuma,” he smiled brightly, which was immediately followed by a chuckle as she enthusiastically licked his face.
With Seungcheol being managing CEO and having a busy schedule that often kept him away for longer periods of time, he usually had a dog sitter he trusted come around the house to feed her and take her on walks. He hated leaving her alone, and it hurt him to be away from her, but with the duties he needed to fulfill, he really had no choice.
That’s why he always made it his priority to spend as much time as possible with her whenever he didn’t have any work or social activities to attend. Seungcheol liked being around people, which shouldn’t be surprising as it was a big part of his job, but nothing beat the feeling of coming home to Kkuma and her unconditional love for him.
No matter what, Kkuma always had the ability to put a smile on Seungcheol’s face. She’d witnessed both the good and the bad over the many years that she’d been with him. And even though she couldn’t understand ninety-nine percent of the things her owner told her – rants included – she was always happy to listen to him.
Kkuma was like his own form of therapy, his safe place that brought him comfort when he needed it.
“Let’s call Jeonghan and tell him about the mean woman who took my snack, hmm?” he proposed after having dropped the JamJam bag off in the kitchen and taking a seat on his ginormous couch – Kkuma was now comfortably tucked against his chest, recovering from the energy burst she’d had at seeing Seungcheol.
“This better be urgent. I was about to sleep,” Jeonghan’s tired voice sounded as soon as he answered the call.
“Well, it’s urgent to me.”
“Oh jeez, here we go.” The other CEO released a sigh of exasperation, knowing that he wasn’t going to get to sleep anytime soon.
Seungcheol’s eyes rolled at his friend’s dramatics. “Don’t be like that. I think you’ll want to hear this.”
“I doubt it.”
“Anyway, you won’t believe what just happened to me,” Seungcheol started, choosing to ignore Jeonghan’s disinterest in the matter. “I had a shitty day, so I went to JamJam, and then this woman just snatched the last melon pan right in front of my eyes! I tried to tell her that I really needed it, but she wouldn’t give it up.”
“Obviously. Can’t blame her,” Jeonghan yawned.  
Seungcheol clenched his jaw in frustration at the CEO’s disregard. “Just let me finish. That’s not the worst thing. I even offered to give money in exchange for that melon pan, bu-”
The man on the other side of the phone was suddenly wide awake. “Wait, wait, wait, hold on. Did I hear that right? You offered her money for a snack?!”
“Yes! But what did I get in return? She called me rude, ignorant and entitled. And for what? I was being nice about it and gave her a way to earn some easy money.”
Jeonghan released a deep sigh at the other man’s words. “Cheol, you can’t just go around bribing people to get whatever you want.”
“Why not? It seemed pretty reasonable to me. Besides, who doesn’t want money in this economy?” Seungcheol shrugged, even though the other CEO wasn’t able to see.
“Are you really that oblivious? Of course you’re going to get cussed out if you do stupid shit like that. It makes you sound like an asshole.”
That earned a scoff from the managing CEO. “So, what you’re saying is that I was wrong, and she was right to be so disrespectful?”
“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m saying. If that were me, I would have wiped the floor with your ass.”
“Yah! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side? You’re my best friend.”
“Exactly. I’m your best friend, so I get to call you out on your bullshit. This is one of those instances. You need to realize that not everything can be solved with money, Cheol.”
“Ugh, whatever. You know what? Just go to sleep. I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
The last thing Seungcheol needed right now was a lecture from Jeonghan.
“Cheol, come on. You’re being stubborn right now, and you know it.”
“Goodnight, Jeonghan.” Seungcheol ended the call right after that, not even bothering to wait for his friend’s response. “Is it too much to ask for some support?” he grumbled before directing his attention back to Kkuma.
She was now lying in his lap, looking up at him with big, curious eyes. Seungcheol smiled in response, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head, which was answered with some enthusiastic tail wagging. 
“At least I can count on my sweet girl, right?
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“Thanks, Haewon. I’ll check out a new place first, and then I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”
Seungcheol ended the call with his secretary, who’d just informed him that his favorite coffee place had closed down for good. She was usually the one who got his coffee in the mornings, but now that his usual spot was unavailable, he needed to find a new place that would be able to meet his standards. And since Seungcheol tended to be quite picky when it came to his daily fix of caffeine, Haewon knew better than to get him a random coffee from a place he hadn’t approved of.
“What’s a good place?” he mumbled to himself as he scrolled through a large list of Seoul’s best coffee places.
There were lots of coffee spots to choose from, but none of them were special enough to catch the CEO’s eyes.
The majority of the highly rated ones were either too hipster or too tacky for his taste, whereas several of the ones that looked rather nice had a large number of negative reviews that made him think twice about visiting.
After a good ten minutes of scrolling, Seungcheol was starting to lose hope. He was supposed to be at a meeting in a little bit over an hour and if he didn’t have a decent cup of coffee to start the day off with, he would be in a bad mood for the rest of it. And with how yesterday had ended, he really wanted today to be different – at this rate, that wasn’t going to happen. 
At least, that was until he came across a place called Oh My! Coffee. It was a small but cozy-looking vintage coffee bar located on the outskirts of Seoul, which Seungcheol thought was great since there would be less traffic holding him back. Plus, most of the reviews he’d read were both recent and extremely positive about the quality of the coffee.
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Apparently, it was enough to convince Seungcheol to go check it out because before he knew it, he’d started the engine of his luxurious sports car and made his way to the coffee bar.
The place looked exactly like the pictures he’d seen on Naver. The facade of the coffee bar was completely made out of oak wood, with vines of purple and pink flowers decorating the two large see-through doors to contrast the dark color of the oak.
Inside, the lights had been slightly dimmed to create an elegantly subtle glow of orange, which – combined with the soft jazz music playing in the background – gave the whole place a pleasant and relaxing ambiance.
Various vintage items adorned the walls of the cozy, homey shop, and though there wasn’t a lot of space, with the strategic way in which the small wooden tables had been set up, it was enough to accommodate a couple of coffee lovers who wanted to enjoy their beverage in a picturesque setting.
Seungcheol was already in love with the place, and he hadn’t even tried the coffee yet. Judging from the mouthwatering, smoky coffee aroma that invaded his nostrils as soon as he stepped inside, he was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to be disappointed.
But then his eyes fell on the barista, who was standing behind the counter, seemingly lost in her own world as she cleaned her workspace.
The CEO froze in his spot, his heart rate picking up at the sight that greeted him because it was no one other than you, the stranger who had disrespected him and ruined what should have been a nice evening with his favorite snack.
He never planned on seeing you again after last night, and he certainly didn’t plan to end up at the coffee bar you worked at. How could fate have been so cruel to lead him right back to you when all he wanted was a peaceful morning and a good cup of coffee? That was definitely not going to happen if you recognized him.
That thought immediately got Seungcheol into gear. A sudden boost of energy rushed through his body as he tried to be as subtle as possible. His feet were moving backwards, slowly taking him back towards the large double doors through which he had entered not too long ago.
He almost succeeded, but due to his poor spatial awareness, he managed to hit the heel of his black Derby shoe against the door – the sound it created was loud... too loud for you not to hear it.
“Oh, hi there! Can I help you with something?”
Your cheery tone surprised the CEO, mainly because it was a complete one-eighty from last night, where you’d sounded anything but happy. But here you were, smiling away like you hadn’t just told him that he was rude, ignorant, and entitled. It was almost as if...
She doesn’t recognize me.
“If you need some time to look, that’s fine. But I can also give you some recommendations if you’re not sure what to get,” you continued, that bright smile still adorning your face.
Seungcheol didn’t know whether to be relieved or creeped out by it.
Still, against his better judgment, he decided to play dumb and pretend like he didn’t know you. He was already running late, and he needed coffee, so what did he have to lose?
Clearing his throat, he carefully made his way to the counter before scanning his eyes over the large menu that hung on the wall behind you.
“Could I, uh, have a cafe latte?”
“Sure! Small, medium, or large?” you asked, your fingers hovering above the register as you waited for his response.
“Medium is fine, no sugar.”
“Hot or cold?”
“Hot.”
“Anything else?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
You nodded, looking away briefly to finalize his order before pointing to a second screen that showed his total. “That will be 4,700 won, please.”
“Do you accept card too?” Seungcheol asked while fishing his wallet out of his pocket.
“Yes, we do,” you answered, stopping in your tracks as your eyes fixated on the man’s wallet.
Wait. That wallet…
“Great! Here you go then.” And that voice… no fucking way.
You swiftly shifted your gaze back to the man’s face. When you’d first spotted him standing in the shop, you thought that there was something familiar about him – you just hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. But everything suddenly clicked as you took him in again.
The blond hair, the dark brown almond-shaped eyes, the goddamn wallet that he’d so brazenly taken from his pocket in an attempt to bribe you.
He was wearing a blue suit instead of the dark brown one he’d worn yesterday, and his black coat had been replaced by a brown one that looked even more expensive. Even his white mask had been switched out for a black one. Still, there was no doubt in your mind that it was him… Melon pan dude.
How in the hell had he ended up here… at your place of work of all places? 
“Aren’t you going to take it?” he questioned, tilting his head quizzically when you still hadn’t taken the credit card that he was holding out.
“Right,” you grumbled before snatching the card right out of his hand rather harshly.
Any type of joy you’d felt at the prospect of getting to make another one of your coffee creations had disappeared as soon as you realized who you’d be making it for.
“Yah! What the hell?” the man exclaimed, his eyes narrowing at your action. “Is this how you treat your customers?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you looked him dead in the eyes as you swiped his card. “Only the ones that deserve it.”
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me,” you replied, your voice void of any emotion as you calmly placed his card back onto the counter.
You knew damn well that if your boss caught you treating any customer this way, he’d give you hell for it. But you just couldn’t help it. Even though you’d only met the man yesterday, he already managed to evoke such extreme emotions from you that you couldn’t just stay silent and pretend like he wasn’t a total prick.
The stranger scoffed as he slid his credit card back into his wallet. “You know, I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Do you think I’d willingly go to a place where the staff doesn’t even respect me?”
“Then why are you here? Plenty of coffee places to choose from,” you retorted, turning around briefly to start on his coffee. He did pay for it after all – the sooner you got it done, the sooner he’d leave you alone.
“It’s nice to know you’re rude both at and outside of work,” the man sneered.
You chuckled bitterly at his words as you worked on his beverage. “Oh, so now you’re calling me rude? Isn’t that a little hypocritical for someone who tried to bribe me for a fucking snack?”
“I’m not reliving this bullshit again,” he snapped.
“You asked for it,” you said nonchalantly as you turned back around, the milk you’d just steamed in your right hand and the cup of coffee in your left hand.
“When the hell did I- You know what? Just give me what I came for, and I’ll be out of here... for good,” he sneered.
“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more,” you grumbled, feeling this close to throwing the hot drink in his face with the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through your body.
It was tempting, but you really didn’t want to ruin your life and end up in jail for assaulting someone who wasn’t even worth your time and energy.
“Good. Hurry up then.”
Your jaw clenched at his demanding tone, but you chose to ignore it for now. Instead, you focused on the tulip you were trying to create. You’d thought about pouring the milk into the shape of a middle finger but decided against it when you realized that he might use that to ruin the company name – you wouldn’t put it past him to call you out on social media.
You had hoped that he would have taken the coffee and left without another word, but of course, he had to ruin that scenario by opening his mouth to start something... again.
“Let’s see if this coffee is really as good as the reviews say. I doubt the barista they were talking about was you,” he snickered as he grabbed a lid and a sleeve for his cup.
“Asshole,” you muttered, your fingers clenching around the counter as you tried to keep it together for just a bit longer. Two could play that game, though. “Well, just so you know, the melon pan I got was delicious,” you emphasized, watching in delight as his cocky expression morphed into one of anger at your mention of the melon pan.
Serves him right.   
“Whatever,” he huffed with a glare directed your way. “I’m out of here,” was the final thing he said before turning around and storming away with his fresh coffee.
“Oh, oh,” you whispered to yourself as you noticed your boss enter not even two seconds after the stranger had stormed out of the shop. And he did not look happy.
“What the hell was that? Did you just piss off one of our customers?”
You averted your gaze down, mentally preparing yourself for the scolding that was about to come. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“It wasn’t? So, you’re telling me that man didn’t just storm out of here, huh?” He was standing right next to you now, a little too close for your liking.
“I guess he wasn't in the best mood,” you mumbled, praying that he'd just let you off with a warning.
“Not the best mood, huh? How many times have I told you to treat our customers with respect? Do you even want to keep your job?” he hissed as he slammed his hands down on the counter, the unexpected sound making you flinch in your spot.
“I do,” you responded, gritting your teeth in frustration.
“Then act like it for once. You better hope that he doesn't write us a bad review because that will be on you. Am I clear? We should be lucky if he still wants to come back here after your shitty service. Sanghoon would never act like this.”
You couldn't suppress the scoff that you were holding at his ridiculous statement. Yes, you admit that you could have been more professional to the stranger, but it had been a special circumstance, and you’d acted a little out of character. But to compare you to Sanghoon like that? Ha! All your incompetent co-worker ever did was get on your nerves and sit on his ass while he typed away on his phone. So yes, of course, he would never act like that when you were doing all the work he was getting paid for. 
“You think this is a fucking joke, Y/N?”
“No, Sir,” you muttered, almost wanting to slap yourself for losing control of your emotions in front of your boss.
“Let's see if you think this is funny. Count this as your last warning. If I catch you treating any customer badly, you're out. I'm sick and tired of your shit, so let this be a lesson. Fix that attitude, or you're fired. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” you replied, deciding that speaking up would only make it worse. You couldn't afford to lose your job, not without a proper backup plan set in place.
“Good. Then get to work. You're on your own today.”
A frown made its way onto your face as you processed your boss’ words. “Sanghoon is not coming in?”
“What about being on your own don't you get? He took the day off. That's all you need to know.”
“Of course he fucking did,” you muttered under your breath as you got ready to start your chores for the day.
This was like the third time he'd taken a day off this month, leaving you with a shit ton of work to do on your own. You, however, were lucky if you managed to get one or two days off once every four months. Yes, you were aware that it wasn’t very ethical, but there was a reason you’d been putting up with this bullshit for so long.
It just so happened that Oh My! Coffee was among the highest-paying coffee shops in Seoul, believe it or not. Your boss was greedy and always looking for new ways to save or make money, but he at least had the common sense to compensate his employees adequately.
Any other person might have wondered why a man as greedy as him would willingly pay his staff more than the legally required minimum wage, but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was that your current salary allowed you to live comfortably – comfortable enough to put aside a small amount of money from time to time without having to worry about being able to afford your rent.
The offers you’d received from other coffee shops you’d applied for at the time had all been significantly less generous, which, naturally, had been the deciding factor for you to take the job at Oh My! Coffee. And now here you were, stuck with an asshole of a boss and a good-for-nothing co-worker – that is, if you could even really call him a co-worker at all.
Your situation was far from ideal. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t been trying to look for other options. Up till now, all your search attempts had resulted in disappointment because there really seemed to be no shop that was able to match or beat your current salary. Besides, no matter how hard things could get at times, you simply weren’t willing to sacrifice that little bit of financial freedom you had.
Unless you could find an opportunity that would improve your current financial situation, quitting your job was out of the question.
So, for the time being – as shitty as it was – your boss not giving you any proper days off was just another thing on the list to prove that he was a sexist piece of shit who loved to make your life a living hell.
“Y/N!” Now what? “Didn't I tell you to clean the windows properly last time? I want you to do it again. And there better not be a speck of dirt when I come back.”
“I'm on it!” you called, already dreading the fact that it was going to be another long and exhausting day.
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The next morning, Seungcheol found himself standing in front of Oh My! Coffee once again, despite having promised himself that he’d never come back here. How did that happen? He blamed it on you and your damn good coffee.
Seungcheol hated to admit it, but the reviews about the vintage coffee bar hadn’t been wrong one bit. Even though the CEO thought you were extremely rude, the cafe latte you’d served him yesterday was no doubt the best coffee he’d ever tasted.
The nutty aroma, together with the subtle earthy undertones, gave the coffee a depth of flavor that he couldn’t get enough of. Every sip had been so smooth and rich, with a coffee-milk ratio that ensured a perfect balance of flavors – the sweetness of the milk had perfectly complemented the boldness of the coffee.
Although it went against his wishes, he did make some efforts to find a new coffee place – simply because he wasn’t looking forward to having yet another frivolous confrontation with you.
Similar to yesterday, he’d scrolled through the Naver list, checked out reviews, and finally stumbled upon another place that looked like it would meet his standards. However, after taking one sip of the beverage he’d ordered, he already found himself throwing the cup in the trash as soon as he’d exited the shop.
It was like you’d completely ruined any other coffee experience for him. He’d had a taste of your coffee, and there was no going back, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that there had to be other places like that out there. Seungcheol contemplated with himself for a good fifteen minutes before he finally gave in to his craving.
But as he stood in front of the large double doors again, he suddenly wasn’t so sure whether he made the right decision to come back here. Because why was he so willing to put himself into potentially another petty argument for a cup of coffee?
In any case, he could’ve just requested his secretary to get it for him, so why didn’t he? Why did he feel the need to pick it up himself and risk starting another squabble?
Was it because he suddenly preferred to experience the smell of freshly made coffee first-hand? Or was it because some part of him was looking forward to seeing you, the disrespectful stranger who didn’t seem afraid to stand up to him?
“No way,” he breathed with a shake of his head. “It’s definitely the coffee.” Nothing more, nothing less.
He would just get his coffee and leave before things could escalate. 
“You’re back,” you exclaimed as soon as you noticed Seungcheol walk up to the register.
Unlike yesterday, you’d immediately recognized him without him having to utter a single word – he figured as much.
“Yeah, got a problem with that?” he mused with raised brows, preparing himself for one of your sassy comebacks.
Instead, you smiled brightly and shook your head. “No, not at all! We, uh, we’re glad you chose to come back.”
“Okay?”
Seungcheol was taken aback by your switch in attitude once again. You definitely recognized him. He was sure of that. So why were you suddenly pretending as if you didn’t have another argument yesterday? He’d at least expected some resistance from your side. It made him feel almost... disappointed. Or was it confusion he was feeling? Either way, it was odd, and it made him slightly uncomfortable for some unknown reason.
The sound of a throat clearing rather loudly pulled his attention away from you and towards the man who was standing to your left, his arms crossed and a look on his face that didn’t seem all too friendly – and it was definitely directed at you.
“And…,” Seungcheol turned his gaze back to you. “I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. That wasn’t professional. I’m sorry,” you added, your voice tense and slightly raspy.
Based on the fact that you were struggling to get the words out, he assumed that your apology wasn’t voluntary and most definitely not sincere. His guess was that the man in the corner – whom Seungcheol guessed was your boss – had something to do with it. But since he hadn’t come here to cause any trouble, he decided to just go along with it for your sake and for the sake of his future coffees.
“Sure, no problem. Let’s just forget about it,” he nodded, his eyes flicking back between you and the other man, who had now moved to stand beside you. “Could I just get the same thing I ordered yesterday?”
Your body visibly relaxed at his positive response, so he knew that he’d made the right decision by not causing a scene right now.
“Of course.”
As the CEO was waiting for you to finish his coffee, he noticed that the man still hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Seungcheol asked, raising his brows at the man who obviously wanted something from him with the way he kept staring.
“No, no! I’m just really glad that you decided to come back. It’s such an honor to have you in my shop, Mr. Choi.”
The CEO was glad that he had no liquid in his mouth, or he would have spit it all out the moment his name was mentioned.
“You know who I am?” he asked, his eyes flicking to you for a second. Only you didn’t seem to be fazed by the revelation, your eyes not even once straying from the coffee you were working on.
Did you know him? Or did you just not care about who he was?
“Of course! How could I not recognize you? You’re the managing CEO of SEVENTEEN World. I’d be able to spot an icon such as yourself anywhere.”
Seungcheol frowned slightly, wondering if his disguise was really that bad. Perhaps it was time to start adding beanies to his wardrobe from now on.
“Uh, yeah. Well, I’d like to keep that on the down low if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, I totally understand. But no worries, Sir. My lips are sealed,” the man assured him, which was followed by a smile that looked too fake to be genuine. “Ah, how rude of me! I totally forgot to introduce myself. My name is Park Wonshik,” he bowed before continuing. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know, and we’ll make it happen.”
The CEO quickly had to mask the snort that threatened to escape with a cough. Who did this man think he was? Did he really believe that this little act of his was going to get him anywhere? Whoever told him that sucking up to one of Korea’s most successful businessmen was a good idea was dead wrong. If anything, it only put Seungcheol off and made him want to get out of there as soon as possible.
“I doubt I’ll need anything other than my coffee,” he finally said, his eyes shifting back to you in the hope the man would take the hint and drop whatever phony act he was putting on.
“Right! Your coffee. Y/N? How are you doing with Mr. Choi’s drink?”
The smile that had been on your boss’ face just seconds ago dropped immediately as soon as his attention turned to you, now replaced by a scowl that was anything but amicable.
You lifted your head briefly to glance at your boss. “It’s almost done, Sir,” you responded dully, seemingly unbothered by the look your boss was throwing your way.
It was almost as if you were used to this kind of behavior from him.
“Well, would you hurry it up already? We don’t have all day,” he sneered and relaxed his facial muscles before turning his focus back to the CEO. “Apologies, Sir. Y/N tends to be a bit slow sometimes, but I assure you that it will only take a moment,” he spoke, throwing him another fabricated smile as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Seungcheol was flabbergasted by the abrupt change in demeanor, unable to form a response in that moment. It made him wonder if the man even knew how ridiculous he looked – trying to come off as a well-established business owner who had his shit together when it was, in fact, obvious that he needed to work on his people skills.
Although you and the CEO weren’t on the best terms, he knew for a fact that spending less than five minutes on making a coffee did not equal being ‘slow’. Hell, even if it was, he’d happily wait for ten or twenty minutes if it meant he got to have another one of those mind-blowing lattes.
In Seungcheol’s eyes, anyone who treated their employees with disrespect was automatically guaranteed a spot in his bad books. From what he had seen of Park Wonshik in the few minutes he spent in the shop, the man was already well on his way to get there.
How the hell did you manage to put up with that on a daily basis?
You were trying not to let your boss get to you. Keyword: trying. But the man was making it nearly impossible with the way he was bossing you around in front of the one person you really didn’t want to see... Melon pan dude.
Why had he even come back in the first place? As far as you could remember, he’d made it abundantly clear that he would stay away “for good” after yesterday’s debacle, so what the hell was he getting at? Did he come back just to get a reaction out of you? If that was the case, then he was sure out of luck because he wouldn’t be getting any more fight out of you.
Your boss had drilled it into your head that he wouldn’t tolerate any more mistakes on your end, and you weren’t going to try and test his limit.
Just this morning, he’d made sure to remind you again after giving you another scolding as soon as you’d stepped foot into the coffee bar. Because not only had you offended and scared away a potential regular customer, you’d royally fucked up and offended “the one and only CEO Choi Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN World,” as your boss put it.
At first, you thought that he was talking out of his ass, but then it became clear that your crazy boss had actually scoured the CCTV footage for your little argument with the man. And apparently, he discovered that one of the outdoor cameras had managed to catch a glimpse of the CEO in front of his car, where he’d lowered his mask to take a sip of his coffee before taking off – that sight had been enough for your boss to put two and two together.
It shouldn’t have surprised you that your boss already knew all about the CEO and the SEVENTEEN World corporation. The man was a greedy fucker who would do about anything to get to the top, so scoring a billionaire as a regular was the equivalent of hitting the jackpot.
To think that he’d potentially lost such an S-Class customer as a result of your “shitty attitude” no doubt made him want to make your work life even more miserable than it already was. But how were you supposed to have known that your newfound rival was actually one of the most influential people in South Korea?
Of course, you’d heard of SEVENTEEN World. How could you not have when it was one of the biggest corporations out there and literally everywhere? You just hadn’t bothered to familiarize yourself with it and its CEOs because, well... why would you? It wasn’t something you were interested in, and you weren’t about to be either.
Honestly, you couldn’t give two shits about one of the CEOs coming to the shop. So what if he was famous? So what if he was filthy rich? In your eyes, he was still the rude stranger who’d tried to bribe you the other night. No amount of money or fame was going to change that.
You did have to admit that although you weren’t particularly happy to see him, a part of you was relieved that he’d returned for another coffee. It meant that your job was safe for now and that your boss had one less reason to hate you. But then again, that didn’t mean that he was going to stop criticizing you and making you look bad in front of customers. Of course, that would have been wishful thinking.
You’d already accepted that the universe hated you a long time ago, so you just had to suck it up for the time being.  
At least Melon pan dude had taken the hint and let you off easy today. The last thing you needed right now was for the two of you to start another petty argument in front of your superior. Because with the way your boss was trying to kiss the CEO’s ass, you were pretty sure that even if the CEO were to provoke you again, he’d happily let him and then continue to blame you for upsetting the customer in the aftermath of it all.
Yeah, you weren’t about to let that happen. You’d finish the coffee and take your break without causing a fuss. Simple and easy, just how you liked it.
“Your coffee is done,” you finally announced, placing the steaming latte onto the counter under the watchful eye of your boss.
Similar to yesterday, the CEO grabbed a lid and a cup sleeve from the counter.
“Thanks,” he nodded, picking up his hot beverage.
“Enjoy it and have a nice day,” you responded with a polite nod before starting to move towards the back. You really needed a short break after all of this.
At the same time, your useless co-worker decided to return from his own morning break.
Going against company policy, he’d extended his official fifteen-minute break with an additional fifteen minutes. It was typical Sanghoon behavior, so you weren’t exactly surprised. He loved to bend the rules to do whatever the fuck he pleased, and your misogynistic boss just let him.
It wasn’t fair… not in the slightest, but what could you do? Complaining about it would only end up with your break time getting cut – yes, you were speaking from experience. So, over time, you’d just learned to appreciate any break you could get, no matter how short it was.
“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss interfered, putting himself between you and the door to prevent you from leaving.
“Taking my break?” you questioned with a frown, not at all liking his tone.
Somehow you already knew that this wouldn’t end with you having a few peaceful minutes to yourself.
He quickly shook his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his mouth at your question. “Oh no, you’re not. There’s still more than enough work for you to do before you can even think of taking a break. I need you to start sorting the inventory and do a deep cleanse while you’re at it.”
Was he fucking serious?
“Sanghoon was supposed to do that though,” you mumbled as you could feel your blood pressure start to increase with every second that passed.
“And I’m telling you that you’re going to do it instead. Sanghoon has more than enough important things to do.”
Important things? Yeah right. Then why is the useless idiot currently slouched on a chair with his face buried in his phone?
That’s what you were thinking, but definitely not what came out of your mouth.
“But, Sir. That’s just not fa-”
“Y/N. I don’t want to hear anything. Or do I have to remind you again that you’re already walking on thin ice? Just do your damn job for once without opening that big mouth of yours.”
You sighed, not having it in you to put up a fight. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Then get to it. I’ll come check on you later,” he said, stepping aside to let you through. “Oh! Mr. Choi! You’re still here? How’s the coffee? To your liking, I hope?”
Your head turned around so fast that you could have sworn you heard something snap in your neck. Based on the frown that had taken over the CEO’s face and the look he was giving your boss, you guessed that he’d just witnessed all of that.
Why was he still here?
“It’s...” his eyes met yours for a moment, “perfect,” he stated, his mask already back in place before you even had the chance to get a proper look at his face.
“Wonderful! We hope to see you back many more times!” your boss exclaimed loudly. “Y/N? Don’t you have something to do?” he asked, even though you knew it was anything but a question with the pointed look he threw your way.
“Right,” you muttered and reluctantly turned around without another word, mentally preparing yourself for the horrible assignment you were tasked with.
Still, you couldn’t stop the slight smirk from appearing as you made your way to the storage room. Knowing that you’d proved the cocky man wrong with your barista skills gave your ego enough of a boost to make the day just a bit more bearable.
In all your years of coffee making, no one had ever been able to resist your coffee. It was just that good. Yes, you knew you sounded a bit arrogant, but you wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t absolutely true – the power your coffee held was exactly what kept the place running.
On that note, you were fairly certain that you’d be seeing a lot more of each other from now on, whether you liked it or not.
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Just as you had predicted, that was exactly what happened. In the days that followed, the CEO stopped by the coffee bar once a day – nearly always in the morning and always for the exact same order: a medium-sized cafe latte.
With you working six days a week and with Sanghoon being close to useless, encountering him was practically inevitable. Fortunately, for the most part, the two of you managed to be cordial with one another, aside from the occasional taunting remarks that the businessman threw your way. You knew that he was trying to get you to react to him because that was just who he was – a provocative little shit. But you couldn’t let yourself get carried away, not when you knew that your boss was watching your every move.
Ever since your superior had revealed that he used the camera feed to discover that Melon pan dude was, in fact, a rich businessman, you’d become even more conscious of how you behaved during work hours. Because who knows how many times he had already done this before?
Up until about a week ago, you believed that it had been a one-time thing. But of course, you should have known better.
After serving the last customers from the morning rush, your boss requested that you prepare his coffee and bring it to his office. You hadn’t thought anything of it because it wasn’t the first time you’d done so. However, what you didn’t expect to find was him casually reviewing the camera footage of you and the SEVENTEEN World CEO from two days prior – you knew that because of the purple hoodie you’d worn underneath your apron that day. 
Although the discovery had shocked you at first, you couldn’t exactly say that you were surprised about any of it. It certainly explained how he always knew about everything that went on despite being present at the shop for only about half of your six-day workweek – God knows what that man did besides constantly bossing you around and ruining your mood.
Regardless, that didn’t make the whole thing any less creepy. Spying on your employees through the camera feed? What kind of crazy psycho shit was that?
The worst thing of all was that he hadn’t even tried to conceal it. If anything, it was almost like he’d wanted you to see it.
As soon as he noticed that you’d caught on with what he’d been up to before you showed up, he was all too happy to show you the setup, just so that he could let you know that he was “watching you” and that you should be thinking twice about “messing up or mistreating valuable customers.”
What he probably hadn’t realized was the fact that he’d also indirectly revealed the spots inside the shop that the cameras failed to capture. So, despite the burning hatred you felt for the man and his disgusting behavior, you had taken advantage of the moment and memorized every single one of them to the best of your ability.
Even though it didn’t help you get rid of the problem that was your meddlesome boss, at least it would allow you to hide whenever you needed a moment to breathe – or in the case of Melon pan dude, you were able to use the blind spots to temporarily drop the fake act and reciprocate his provocations with your own.
It was around the fifth day of him visiting the coffee bar when you got to ‘test’ one of said blind spots for the first time. And no, it definitely hadn’t been planned. But the CEO had managed to piss you off to the point where you felt like you had no choice but to snap and let him know that you were anything but happy with his stupid actions.
It was close to noon. The shop was pretty much empty at this hour, apart from the two regulars who were drinking their coffee in peace at their usual tables. Sanghoon was in the back doing God knows what while you were in the middle of restocking the coffee and milk supply.
You were ecstatic about the fact that your boss wouldn’t be at the shop today, which, for you, meant that no one would be screaming in your ear during quiet moments such as these. Instead, you were able to take advantage of the situation and enjoy the soothing jazz music playing in the background while you busied yourself with your small task.
As you softly hummed along to the melodic tunes, you subconsciously found your thoughts drifting to no one other than Melon pan dude.
Strangely enough, the man had yet to come in for his usual coffee order. Based on the majority of his previous visits, you’d established that he preferred to get his coffee early in the morning, right before the biggest morning rush.
But he was a CEO after all. Perhaps something important had come up? Or had he finally managed to find another place that served better coffee than you did?
The latter shouldn’t have bugged you as much as it did, but the thought of there being another barista in Seoul who could top your coffee creations was bringing out your competitive side. Then again, why did you even care? It was Melon pan dude you were talking about. Losing someone like him to the competition was definitely not something you were going to cry about.
Your boss, however, would probably be the only one crying about it – and then find a way to pin the whole thing on you.
“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” a familiar voice shook you out of your thoughts.
Your eyes flicked over to the person in question, their sparkling eyes staring right at you as it dawned on you who was standing on the other side of the counter.
Speaking of the devil.
The CEO’s blond hair was covered by an orange beanie that seemed to match perfectly well with the black coat he’d chosen to wear today. Similarly, his face was once again hidden behind a white mask, even though you were pretty sure that he was smirking based on the way his eyes scrunched up ever so slightly.
“In your dreams,” you scoffed but quickly composed yourself when you realized where you were.
Technically, he wasn’t wrong – you had been thinking about him – but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that.
As if he would need anything else to inflate that big ego of his.
The CEO chuckled in response and rested his hands on the counter to lean a little closer “Oh, come on. You can’t deny that you missed me at least a little bit,” he teased. 
You cleared your throat in response, choosing to ignore his statement. Whatever had caused him to delay his coffee run was really none of your business. You had a job to do after all.
“What is it going to be today? The usual?”
“Yeah,” he said before turning his body slightly to let his eyes scan through the shop as you typed in the order. “Wait. I’ll drink it here. And add a glass of fresh orange juice and a piece of that red velvet cake while you’re at it,” he continued, pointing to the display left from the register.
“Ehm, sure?” you responded, surprised that he even wanted to stay when there was the risk of being spotted. What happened to staying low-key? “I’ll bring it out soon. Just take a seat.”
That alone should have been enough foreshadowing for what was about to happen. Because you should have known that your day was going to be ruined one way or another. If it wasn’t your boss or Sanghoon, then it had to be the cocky CEO who had decided to deviate from his usual morning routine.
“Your order,” you said after you had made your way over to the table he had chosen to sit at.
It was located at the very back of the shop, and fairly out of sight from anyone entering through the double doors due to the various plants and decorations surrounding the small table. You guessed it made sense that he would choose such a spot with him being well-known and all.
The man immediately looked up from his phone when you announced your presence. “Here. Let me help you with that,” he insisted as he put the device away.
Before you even had a chance to open your mouth in protest, he had already reached up to grab the cup of coffee from the serving tray you were holding.
The unexpected move caused all the weight of the remaining item to shift to the back of the tray, which would have been fine if you had been prepared – only you weren’t. And with your other hand holding the slice of cake you’d wanted to put down first, there was no way to stop the tray from toppling over.
You watched in horror as the large glass of orange juice tipped in your direction, the liquid spilling out of the glass and simultaneously staining your clothes, as well as the brand-new shoes that you had bought a few days ago with your hard-earned money.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the glass continued to fall off the tray, shattering into a million pieces right at your feet. The harsh sound it created echoed through the nearly empty space, interrupting the cozy atmosphere and startling the two regulars who had been in their peaceful bubbles.
For the first few seconds that followed you didn’t say anything, your gaze fixated on the twinkling glass shards decorating the wooden floor. You were trying to determine if you hadn’t just imagined this whole scenario. It was all just a little too much to process for you at that moment. Was this karma’s way of finally catching up with you for taking that last melon pan? If so, you truly hoped that it would eventually make its way back to the man to ruin his day – it was only fair in your opinion.
Somehow, you managed to gather yourself and immediately turned around to apologize to the two customers for the noise before focusing your attention back on the businessman, whose eyes went big at the series of unfortunate events that had just occurred.
“What the hell, dude? Why did you do that?!” you exclaimed, all your etiquette thrown completely out the window the second you opened your mouth.
Fortunately for you, you quickly realized that you were standing right in one of the blind spots you’d memorized not too long ago. In other words, there was no reason for you to hold back the anger you felt coursing through your body. 
“I was trying to help!” he gasped, holding up his hands in defense.
“Well, obviously you didn’t. Look at this!” You frantically motioned to your current state. “You don’t just take something off a tray when someone is holding it. That’s just common sense,” you grumbled, lifting one of your feet in an attempt to shake off the drops of orange juice that had landed on your white sneakers.
“I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes taking in your drenched form.
Anyone who took a quick look at him might have thought that he felt bad for you with the way his hand was covering his mouth. But with you being so close in proximity and his mask now completely removed, you could see his face slowly beginning to turn red. That, together with the raised cheeks and the little shake of his shoulders made it fairly obvious that he was desperately trying to suppress his laughter. 
“You think this is funny? Seriously dude? This is your goddamn fault,” you frowned as you placed the cake onto a nearby empty table and bent down to carefully collect some of the large shards of glass.
“I don't,” he shook his head, but couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Okay, maybe a little? I mean, it is kinda funny to see you like this,” he continued, his eyes scrunching up before he finally allowed himself to laugh. 
“You are unbelievable,” you huffed, your hands slightly trembling from the adrenaline that was rushing through your body.
This man was definitely not good for your health – you could literally feel your blood pressure rising with every second that passed. How could he just sit there and laugh when you were clearly upset?
“I honestly don’t see why people idolize you. Amazing CEO, my ass.”
Your words caused his mood to do a complete one-eighty, the smile that had been on his face just a second ago now replaced with a glare that he directed your way.
“Hey! What does me being a CEO have to do with anything? It’s not my fault you can’t balance for shit,” he retorted.
Yep, you definitely hurt his precious little ego there.
“Well, maybe if you’d read the room and learned some manners, none of this would have happened in the first place.”
He chuckled bitterly in response. “Manners? Me? Says the one who keeps insulting the customer.”
“Oh, boohoo. Am I supposed to feel bad for you now? I have an actual job to do here if that wasn't obvious already,” you snapped as you put the pieces of glass you’d collected onto the tray you were still holding.
“You’re doing a pretty shitty job yeah,” he stated before nonchalantly sipping his coffee as if he hadn’t just offended you.
Although what you really wanted was to retaliate and cuss him out some more, you decided to bite your tongue for now. After all, the two regulars were still in the shop, and you couldn’t afford to let them see you completely go off on another customer. You had at least that much self-control. Instead, you briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath before opening your mouth again.
“You really don't know when to stop, do you?”
“I guess not, but that's what keeps things fun, right?” he smirked, which was followed by an obnoxious wink being sent your way.
The freaking nerve of this man was truly something. In all your years of living, you didn’t think you’d ever met anyone as impudent as him.
“I think we both have very different definitions of fun,” you mumbled, slowly rising up from your position on the floor with the tray that contained most of the glass shards.
The CEO took another sip of his coffee while he leaned back in his seat, a smug look taking over his features.
“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that. You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine in my presence.”
“I hate to ruin your little delusion, but if this is your idea of fun, I really don’t want to be part of it,” you said, but immediately cringed at the feeling of your pants clinging uncomfortably to the skin of your legs.
You’d already used your last set of spare clothing the week before – when you spilled coffee over yourself – so you were stuck in these clothes for now. The prospect of having to endure another six to seven hours in your ruined attire didn’t seem too appealing, but you guessed you had survived worse things – like your boss humiliating you in front of customers.
Something in your expression caused the man to wipe the smug look off his face, his features softening slightly. It was almost as if he suddenly realized that he had put you in this predicament and was being an ass about it.
“Alright, how about this? I’m feeling at least a little bit generous today, so why don’t you let me pay for the dry cleaning? Maybe some new shoes too?” he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.
You nearly wanted to scream at his absurd offer because had he really not learned his lesson? Why did the man think everything could be solved with money? It was as if that was his only way of fixing conflicts, which made you wonder if he was really that far removed from reality that he forgot about something as basic as normal human decency.
Just because you were working as a barista – a damn good one at that – didn’t mean that a little money would make you cave. Who did he think you were? Some charity that was in desperate need of his help? Yeah, no. You weren’t about to play his little game.
“There you go again with your damn money. I don’t need it, and I never will so stop offering it to me,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him to emphasize your point.
He sighed at your refusal and shrugged before drinking the last of his coffee. “Suit yourself. I was actually trying to be nice for once, you know?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his response. “Please. As if you know how to be nice.”
The man paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to come up with a solid reaction.
“I’m just going to ignore that little comment. Anyway, I have more important matters to take care of than to argue with someone who doesn’t even know me,” he finally stated with a shake of his head before putting his mask back in place and making a move to get up from his seat. “Good luck with that, yeah?” he taunted as he motioned to your ruined clothes and the mess on the floor.
It was only when the orange beanie had completely disappeared from your sight that you finally moved from your position. A soft but bitter chuckle escaped from your lips as you realized what had just transpired.
Who would have thought that you would be arguing with some big-shot CEO about a glass of orange juice in the middle of your workday? It was certainly not how you’d imagined your day to go, but here you were – stuck at work and reeking of orange juice while he could go about his day as if nothing had happened.
Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Sanghoon decided that he’d spent enough time in the back and appeared right at the same time you were throwing away the last bit of glass. At the sight of your ruined clothes, your co-worker couldn’t contain his laughter.
“What the hell happened t-to y-you?” he laughed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees for support.
You just rolled your eyes as you shoved past him, not even bothering to give him an explanation.
Having to deal with your incompetent co-worker making fun of you when you already felt like you were about to snap any minute was not something you were in the mood for. You just needed him to mind his business, do his fucking job and let you get through the day without any further incidents.
After that altercation, you had been less than thrilled to see Melon pan dude the following day. But surprisingly, he had kept his mouth shut when he came in for his morning coffee – thankfully to go this time.
You weren’t sure if it had anything to do with your boss being there or the fact that he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Either way, you were happy that it hadn’t come up again. However, that didn’t mean that you had forgiven him for it, especially when he was the reason your shoes were completely ruined, now permanently stained with the orange liquid. You’d tried everything to get it out of the material – from looking up stain removal tutorials to scrubbing for your life – but much to your disappointment, it had all been to no avail.
It was rare for you to splurge on yourself when you had so many bills to pay, so buying those shoes had been a nice little treat after a stressful week at work. That’s what made it all the more frustrating.
It was as if the universe was sending you yet another sign that you were definitely not the favorite... and apparently not allowed to have nice things.
Just like that time a few years ago when you’d gotten yourself a new laptop because your old one had officially died after eight whole years. Not even two days after you got it, you had already managed to break it by spilling water all over it. It had taken at least half of your paycheck to replace the damaged device.
Obviously, the shoes hadn’t been as expensive as the laptop, but the message was pretty clear: nice things never lasted when they were in your possession.
If you had to be honest, your ruined shoes weren’t the actual reason you were still so fired up about the whole incident. Not that you weren’t upset about your shoes – because you definitely were. You knew that spilling accidents were not uncommon in your line of work and that there would be a chance you’d get your shoes dirty. You just hadn’t expected it to happen the way it did, and to that extent, which brought you to the real issue at hand and also the source of your frustration: Melon pan dude and his ignorant attitude towards you.
How was it that a man could be so smart but so oblivious at the same time? At least, you assumed he had some brains because he did manage to become the head of an international empire that brought billions in revenue on a yearly basis. And as a result of that, you were fairly certain that he had dealt with his fair share of crises and stubborn businessmen.
So then how was he seemingly incapable of solving simple, mundane conflicts like a normal human being?
You had to admit that you were slightly biased and probably not the most cooperative person when it came to the CEO, but anyone with a set of brains could see that the fame had gotten to his head with the way he flaunted his wealth.   
You had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. You really had. It was just that with each visit that followed the orange juice incident and each provocation that left his mouth, you finally came to the conclusion that the two of you were just on completely different levels and would never be able to see eye to eye on anything except for coffee.
Coffee was probably the only thing you were ever going to agree on.
Speaking of coffee, there had been a few times when you thought of messing with his coffee just because you were that petty. But you’d never actually acted on those intrusive thoughts since Big Brother (aka the CCTV cameras) was still watching your every move. You might have been close to slipping up during a few moments of weakness, but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little thing.
On top of that, there was Sanghoon, who wouldn’t have hesitated to run to your superior if he were to somehow catch wind of you tampering with the CEO’s coffee order. Your boss took great pride in protecting the shop’s perfect image, which included keeping the “VIP customer,” at whatever cost.
It just wasn’t worth it when the cons severely outweighed the pros, so you simply stuck to being cordial, no matter how hard it was at times.
There was, however, one occasion that had made you seriously reconsider your opinion of the CEO. On the day of his ninth coffee run, he’d unexpectedly shown up during the morning rush and ended up stepping in between you and an agitated customer to save the day, as he liked to call it.
If anyone were to ask you, you’d probably say that it was more like him getting put in his place by an older woman, but of course, he was never going to admit that.
“Excuse me, young lady?”
“Yes, Mrs. Park?” you responded with a small, forced smile, already mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come.
She shook her head and pointed to her coffee before placing the cup back onto the counter, right where you’d put it just a minute ago.
“This is not the coffee I ordered.”
“It’s a decaf with three shots of espresso and a splash of cream, exactly how you like it, Ma’am,” you stated while simultaneously trying to finish the Iced Americano you were making.
“That is how I like it, yes,” she nodded, “but this is too bland. You didn’t put three shots of espresso in this coffee.”
“I’m absolutely sure there are three espresso shots in there, Mrs. Park,” you responded confidently before handing the finished Iced Americano to one of your other regulars and shooting him a friendly smile.
Despite you being in the middle of the morning rush and the shop being a little chaotic with orders piling up by the minute, you were very certain that you had prepared her order just right.
Sanghoon was tasked with taking the orders seeing as you were busy making them. Although you were aware that he had a tendency to mess up when it came to situations that required responsibility, with you double-checking everything, the probability of messing up a coffee order was close to zero.
Besides, Mrs. Park was a regular at the shop who came in about three times a week for her morning coffee – that coffee always being a decaf with three espresso shots and a splash of cream.
It wasn’t like you disliked her because there were those occasions when she was nice and struck up a little conversation with you. But the problem was that she liked to complain… a little bit too much. It was up to the point where she would prevent you from doing your job until she got exactly what she wanted.
Coffee too bland? Coffee too strong? Too much cream? Too little cream? Too cold? Too hot? You name it. She always managed to find something to complain about.
At this point, you were pretty used to her antics and knew how to handle the situation in such a way that got her out the door as fast as possible with minimal resistance. Hell, you were probably the only person that was willing to put up with her shenanigans.
Even your boss, the asshole who never seemed to back down from a fight, was no match for her. As far as you knew, she was the only customer that had ever stood up to him and told him that he was a “rude piece of work that needed to get his shit together” to his face. To say that he had been flabbergasted was an understatement.
You, on the other hand, had truly enjoyed the little confrontation – especially the look on your boss’ face as the older woman wiped the floor with him. She had told him everything you weren’t able to, so there was definitely a part of you, deep down, that appreciated her for standing her ground.
Regardless, that didn’t mean you were happy that she had chosen today to cause a scene. You just wanted to be done with the morning rush and take a well-deserved break.
Why did she always have to do this during the busiest time of the day?
“You’re lying. As you know, I’ve been here many times before, and my coffee has never tasted this bland,” she snapped back, not planning to let it go any time soon.
And yes, despite your boss getting his ass handed to him that one time, he still allowed her in the shop. After all, he was a sucker for money, and she was a paying customer, so forbidding her from coming to the shop was out of the question. He simply refused to engage with her whenever they happened to be there at the same time, which is how you ended up with the task of having to appease her several times a week.
It wasn’t like you already had a million other things to do.
“I can assure you that I made it just as I always do. But, if you’re not satisfied with your coffee, I could just add another espresso shot in there to make it stro-”
“No!” she cut you off with a sneer before crossing her arms over her chest. “I want a new coffee. A proper one this time, or I won’t hesitate to leave another bad review.”
Oh god. Your boss would have your head if yet another one of her rants made it onto Naver.
So, that is why you quickly dropped whatever you were holding and turned your body to give her your full attention.
“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Park. Please. I’ll ma-”
The sound of a throat clearing stopped you mid-sentence, your eyes shifting to the source of the sound.
“If I may?” the man started, meeting your eyes for a brief second before he inserted himself between you and your regular.
Melon pan dude?
Due to the morning rush, you had been so focused on getting all the orders out that you hadn’t even realized that he had been in the shop all this time, waiting for his own coffee. But now that you had a chance to observe him, you wondered how you could have missed him in the first place.
Out of all the people that were currently in the shop, he was actually the one that stood out the most. The combination of his signature orange beanie and the soft brown coat you’d seen him wear before was a stark contrast from the other customers, of whom the majority was clad in attire consisting of various shades of black and gray.
Seeing as he already stood out enough as it was, you didn’t really understand why he felt the need to insert himself into a conversation that didn’t even concern him.
There was no way Mrs. Park would go down quietly.
On the contrary, the woman tended to make quite the spectacle whenever something was not to her liking. More often than not, it ended with all eyes on her and the person on the receiving end of her indignation – aka you. Not that she could care less, though. With the way she had handled your boss, you were fairly certain that she wasn’t afraid of anyone, which no doubt included rich CEOs with big egos.
So, whatever Melon pan dude had in mind, you had a feeling that it would result in a pointless screaming match with him getting a figurative ass-kicking.
For someone who wanted to stay under the radar, the man sure knew exactly what to do to put himself right in the spotlight. But then again, who were you to stop him from embarrassing himself? It wasn’t like you were the one responsible for any damage to his ego or his public image.
Besides, maybe it would actually teach him a lesson or two about involving himself in other people’s business. Because by the looks of it, he had not gotten that memo yet – said man was currently in the middle of staring down an already-agitated Mrs. Park.
“You know, I’ve been watching her prepare orders for a few minutes now, including yours. And I most definitely saw her add three espresso shots in your coffee,” he stated with crossed arms.
Although you weren’t able to see his entire face due to the mask covering most of it, his tone – one you were all too familiar with – told you that he was more than a little annoyed with the older woman.
“I know what I tasted. Don’t try to insert yourself in something that doesn’t concern you, young man,” Mrs. Park responded, seemingly unamused by the interruption.
This was followed by a breathy chuckle from the CEO before he spoke again. “Trust me. I’d prefer not to either, but you’re being a little more than unreasonable right now.”
“Ha! Unreasonable?” the woman snorted. “As a paying customer, I expect to get the coffee I ordered. But clearly, I did not get what I asked for.”
“Ever considered there might be something wrong with your taste buds?” the CEO panned with a raise of his eyebrows.
The disdain was apparent on the woman’s face as she uttered her next response.
“E-excuse me?!”
Oh no, he’d really done it now. He still didn’t know when to quit, did he?
“Need me to repeat that for you?” he challenged, his tone bordering on taunting.
“What I need is for you to move aside so I can resolve this matter!”
“Why don’t you just stop being a bother and let her do her job? If you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one in here,” he pointed out, referring to the rest of the customers, all of whom seemed to be very invested in the dispute.
You couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t every morning they got to see some random dude go up against an older lady. And for what? A damn coffee order, that was.
The most shocking thing about all of this was probably the fact that he was actually trying to help you for once. You thought that he would have at least liked to see you suffer a little bit for all the times you had gotten on his nerves. It was… confusing and most unexpected.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have much to think it over due to the events that were about to unfold right in front of your eyes.
Within the next few seconds, Mrs. Park effortlessly pushed the much larger CEO aside as if he was nothing but a useless pawn standing in her way. That, of course, pulled a bunch of gasps and giggles from the bystanders, who were no doubt just as shocked as you.
You nearly would have laughed with them if it weren't for you realizing you were at work and needed to remain neutral, no matter how badly you might have wanted to express how you truly felt. But dang, that was definitely a sight you weren't going to forget.
The man in question was stunned, to say the least – understandably so, because who knew a small woman like Mrs. Park was hiding such strength? The CEO must have really struck a nerve to bring out that side of her.
To be fair, it shouldn't have surprised you it had even gotten to this point. The man had a gift for driving people up the wall – you knew that all too well after less than two weeks of knowing him. And with both him and Mrs. Park having strong personalities, the two were bound to clash one way or another.
If it was under a different circumstance, you would have loved to enjoy this display just a bit longer. But, if you actually wanted to get through your list of orders, you needed to find a way to put a stop to this. Besides, judging by the fire igniting in the CEO’s eyes, you feared that he was about to take it up a notch if you didn't immediately do something about it.
Before either Mrs. Park or Melon pan dude could get another word in, you quickly stretched out your arm in an attempt to stop the latter from saying or doing something he shouldn't.
“It's okay!” you intervened and gave the CEO a pointed look before directing your attention at the older woman. “No need to argue. I already redid your order, Ma'am,” you added while placing the new cup on the counter. “A decaf with three espresso shots and a little bit of cream.”
Mrs. Park smiled triumphantly at the sight of the steaming cup of coffee. “Thank you, dear,” she said as she reached out for it. This was followed by a nasty look being thrown in the CEO’s direction. “You see that, young man? That is how it's done.”
The CEO, who had already opened his mouth to retaliate, was quick to shut it at the sight of your excessive head shaking.
Your goal was to de-escalate the situation and get the older woman out of the shop as quickly as possible. His involvement would only slow down the process, so you hoped that he would get the hint and let you handle the rest from here.
The sound of another throat clearing pulled your attention right back to the woman who had been at the center of all this.
“Yes, Mrs. Park?”
“Aren’t you missing a little something, dear?”
A small frown made its way onto your face as you racked your brain for anything you could have possibly missed.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Ma’am?” you responded, seemingly confused but also trying your best not to cry out in frustration.
She had already put Melon pan dude in his place and gotten her new coffee, so what else did she want?
“Well,” she huffed before pointing to the glass display, “the least you could do is give me one of those cookies on the house after everything I just went through.”
Ah. So that’s what the whole thing was about. A free cookie… you should have known. It wasn’t the first time she had tried to get something for free, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. 
“You can’t be for real, right?” The CEO butted in before you’d even had a chance to respond. “You got what you wanted, and now you still want more?”
You mentally cursed at the man for opening his big fat mouth again. So much for letting you handle the situation.
“Just who do you think you are to speak to me like that?” the woman questioned, no doubt wondering who would have the audacity to argue with her the way he did.
“I think you’d be surprised to find out.”
“It’s fine! Please. It’s not a big deal,” you quickly interrupted upon hearing the CEO’s last words.
You doubted he actually wanted to reveal his identity and risk becoming front-page news. That wouldn’t do him nor you any good. The last thing you wanted was a bunch of reporters swarming the shop to grill you and anyone else they could find for the ‘juicy’ details.
“I got you a cookie on the house,” you announced, holding out the paper bag for her to take.
“Wonderful! I knew I could count on you,” she nodded and eagerly reached for the bag. “At least someone here knows how to treat people,” she grumbled, throwing the CEO a final look before taking her leave.
As soon as the door had closed behind Mrs. Park, a collective sigh sounded through the shop, which was immediately followed by the sound of continuous chatter.
It was kind of funny though, how everyone had been so invested just a few seconds ago but went right back to their conversations and phones as if nothing had happened. The CEO, however, was awfully quiet and seemingly deep in thought.
“You good?” you asked, feeling genuinely concerned when he hadn’t moved for a good minute.
You honestly didn’t know why you felt sorry for the guy, but something about today’s events had stirred something in you – something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Your question seemed to shake him right out of his bubble, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.
“Me? I’m fine,” he nodded and took a few steps towards the counter. “Is she always like this though?” he questioned, obviously referring to Mrs. Park.
You pursed your lips as you measured the amount of milk you’d need for the next order on your list – his to be exact. “Probably like ninety-nine percent of the time?”
The man scoffed in response, placing his hands on the smooth countertop. “And you just give into her like that? You know she was just looking for attention and a free cookie, right?”
“I know, but what can I do?” you sighed, shooting him a brief glance. “She’s a regular and my boss cannot stand the bad reviews, so it’s best to just give her what she wants from time to time.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were bad, but she was something else.”
“Pfff, whatever, Mr. CEO. You’re worse than me and Mrs. Park combined,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes.
“Yah! At least I had the guts to put her in her place,” he defended, his eyes widening at your words. 
“What place? I think you’re the one who got owned by her though,” you giggled as you grabbed your now-finished milk foam. “Didn’t you see the way she just pushed you aside like you were nothing? Bet you’re not used to that, huh?”
“That’s only because I let her. I was just- I mean… I-I can’t be fighting an old lady,” the man stuttered, his defense crumbling right there.
Oh, he was such a freaking liar.
You couldn’t help but grin as you skillfully poured the steamed milk into the paper cup, shaping it into a pretty flower. “Sure, that must have been the reason.”
“The least you could do is thank me,” the CEO grumbled.
Even though you weren’t able to see his whole face, you were pretty certain that he was pouting underneath his black mask.
“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckled, enjoying the effect your words had on him. Unfortunately, that moment could only last for so long seeing as you had other customers to serve. “Here. Your coffee’s ready.”
“Thanks. I have to run now, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you watched him grab his cup.
“Hey,” you called just as he was about to take his leave. The man raised his eyebrows questioningly, patiently waiting for whatever you were about to tell him. “Thanks… for trying to help me out.”
His face immediately softened at your expression of gratitude. “No problem,” he nodded, which was followed by a quick but unexpected wink in your direction before he also exited the shop.
Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought.
After that debacle, you actually thought the two of you had made some real progress. Okay, it wasn’t like you were all buddy-buddy with another, but your opinion of the man had definitely taken a turn for the better.
For one, him coming to the shop hadn’t been bothering you as much anymore. You weren’t sure what had come over him, but he kept the teasing and taunting to a minimum during his next few visits.
Though his behavior had taken you by surprise, you were certainly not going to complain about it. Instead of the usual back and forth – that was, him trying to get a reaction out of you and you doing your best to ignore him – you found yourself having small conversations with the man that didn’t make you want to strangle him by the end of it. 
Perhaps he had finally realized that being a dick wasn’t going to get him anywhere, especially if you were going to see each other on a nearly daily basis for his coffee runs. Or maybe he had decided that the risk of potentially damaging his public image wasn’t worth it after all, which, honestly, sounded a little more plausible to you.
Despite you having no desire to make him look bad whatsoever, you technically did have the means to do so. And if people loved anything, it was celebrity gossip. Hell, big celebrities had gotten canceled over the smallest and most ridiculous things, so who was to say that the same thing couldn’t happen to SEVENTEEN World’s managing CEO?
Of course, you wouldn’t ever think to take it that far. You weren’t exactly the man’s number-one fan, but you’d never want to wish something like that on someone. Besides, if his recent change in attitude was anything to go by, you were fairly certain that he and his reputation would be just fine.
Whatever it was, you had started to take somewhat of a liking towards the new and improved Melon pan dude.
Looking back on it now, you just wanted to laugh at yourself for being so naïve.
That friendly façade, that peaceful bubble in which you had momentarily forgotten what an ignorant asshole the CEO could be, had only lasted for a total of two days.
Yes. Two freaking days was all it had taken for him to throw it all right back in your face. Were you disappointed? A little. Surprised? Not in the slightest – it had all seemed too good to be true anyway. The average person doesn’t change overnight, and the CEO was apparently no exception to that either.
Once an entitled prick, always an entitled prick, isn’t that how the saying goes?
Today was not a good day for Seungcheol… and the day hadn’t even started yet.
The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was his private investigator informing him that the bracelet – the one he’d seen at Wonwoo’s place a little over a week ago – belonged to no one other than his dear sister.
When he’d initially spotted the bracelet, he’d hoped that it wasn’t true. But when his PI told him the bad news, Seungcheol had felt his heart break just a little bit. There was no way the PI could have been wrong about it – the CEO had made sure to hire only the best of the best. And the best he was, that much he’d proven already with the various documents and pictures he’d collected to confirm the CEO’s suspicions about the pair.
He just didn’t want to believe that his best friend and his sister would go as far as to lie about something so important. Seungcheol had trusted them with everything, and to think that they’d betrayed his trust affected him more than he would have liked.
Before starting this little investigation, Seungcheol had obviously weighed out the pros and cons that came with digging into the personal lives of the people he loved. Of course, somewhere deep down, he knew that it was totally immoral and reckless, and he was aware that it would inevitably open Pandora’s box. But the thought of being in the unknown, the thought of not knowing whether he was being lied to or not, had affected him to the point where he had started to neglect some of his duties as managing CEO.
That’s why he’d decided that he had to know the truth, regardless of the consequences – morals be damned.
But the truth hurt.
Seungcheol was not used to feeling like this, much less capable of dealing with it. Being the CEO he was, he’d dealt with more stressful and bad situations than he could count. But this? This was different. Nothing could have prepared him for this shitstorm. If it would have been any other work situation, he would have had no issue facing the problem head-on.
With this being a personal matter, however, Seungcheol couldn’t exactly approach this as he would a work-related issue. He felt like he had to gather a little more evidence at least, and come up with a concrete plan before he showed his cards. Because even though everything in his body told him to confront the pair, he had to keep it together for now.
The last thing he wanted to do was to jeopardize the future of SEVENTEEN World.
Naturally, with the CEO having to keep such a big secret to himself, the stress of it all was slowly starting to take its toll on his emotions.
Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to either Jeonghan or Mingyu for help. As the group ‘therapists’, the fashion CEO and the chef were no strangers to their friends coming to them for advice or, in some cases, to blow off steam. Both men were great listeners and just had this aura about them that made others naturally want to confide in them. In Seungcheol’s case, Jeonghan was his go-to person whenever he needed a listening ear, more so than Mingyu. Surely, that didn’t mean that Seungcheol valued his advice any less.
On the contrary, the chef had been there for him more times than he could count, in particular during the hard times he’d had to endure in the beginning stages of their business journey. He’d never explicitly told Mingyu this, but Seungcheol was pretty sure that he would have given up a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Mingyu’s unwavering trust and the many encouraging words he’d bestowed.
It was safe to say that Seungcheol had a special type of appreciation for the chef.
The reason Seungcheol tended to seek out Jeonghan, and not Mingyu, in times of distress was pretty straightforward: the two of them go way back. And because of that long-standing friendship, the fashion CEO probably knew Seungcheol better than anyone else.
It was a pain in the ass sometimes – because Jeonghan was certainly not afraid to give his unfiltered opinions – but the managing CEO also knew that his friend only wanted the best for him. Well… it usually took Seungcheol a while to see that, but that was beside the point.
With the CEO being in this predicament, however, neither Jeonghan nor Mingyu seemed like a great option.
Mingyu was obviously out of the question – seeing as he was Wonwoo’s closest friend, Seungcheol was quite positive that the other CEO was already in on the whole thing.
Though Jeonghan was no doubt just as much in the dark as Seungcheol had been, the thought of having to tell his oldest friend about the betrayal already made him want to cringe. Jeonghan would probably tell him to stop being such a grump and get over it, which was definitely not what Seungcheol needed to hear right now. He was fucking pissed and in no state to accept any form of criticism from anyone, especially from his best friend.
That’s why he was currently on his way to Oh My! Coffee for his daily fix of caffeine. Despite feeling stressed and extremely agitated, the CEO knew that a good cup of coffee would at least provide him with enough of a boost to get through the majority of the day.
He had a lot of shit that needed to get done, and if he didn’t find something to take his mind off the matter at hand, soon everyone would know something was wrong. And with everyone, he was mainly referring to Haewon.
Having been Seungcheol’s personal secretary for many years, she had spent enough time with the CEO to know when something was really bothering him.
Though their relationship was primarily professional, his secretary probably knew a lot more about his personal life than she should have. The CEO wasn’t stupid, though. He knew that it was inevitable with the busy life he led.
Just about everything in his daily schedule – even the majority of his weekends – was arranged through her, so he was rather impressed with himself that he’d even managed to keep the whole PI thing a secret for so long.
It really was surprising because Seungcheol swore she had some sort of sixth sense with the way she was always able to figure out exactly what was on his mind – it was freaky but quite convenient whenever he had a hard time verbalizing his concerns.
Still, the CEO didn’t think it was a good idea to involve his secretary in any of this. He knew that Haewon wasn’t the type to tell on him, which was one of the reasons she was still with him to this day, but he already expected her to pull a full-on Jeonghan on him if she were to find out about what he had been concocting behind her back.
Simply put, keeping it on the down low was probably in everyone’s best interest.  
What Seungcheol hadn’t anticipated, however, was for his day to get even worse after just having confirmed his usual order at his new favorite coffee place.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your card got declined,” you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying to soften the blow of the unexpected words that had just left your mouth.
Seungcheol shook his head in utter disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever hear those words, certainly not in a context where they’d be directed at him.
“Decl- What? Try again,” he urged with a hint of a frown on his face.
“I’ve already tried it twice. Do you have another card I could try?” you responded with a shrug before handing him back his black credit card.
“For fuck’s sake,” Seungcheol grumbled as he hastily opened his wallet again to put his declined card back in place. He then grabbed onto his second black card and handed it over without a word, watching intently as you swiped it.
“I’m afraid this one is not working either,” you stated after a few seconds of silence, followed by you holding out yet another declined card.
Seungcheol almost wanted to scoff at the absurdity of the situation. How was it that neither of the two cards was working when he clearly had more than sufficient funds in his account? This had to be a fucking joke. There was just no other logical explanation for it.
“Then there’s something wrong with your system. My cards can’t be the issue,” Seungcheol shook his head, impatiently tapping his fingers against the countertop as he felt the frustration slowly start to spread through his entire body.
Just why did the universe have to mess with him today of all days?
“I can assure you our system works just fine,” you huffed, your clenched jaw making it quite obvious that you were trying to hold back whatever was really going through your mind.
“Well, obviously it can’t be me. I didn’t just go broke overnight,” he chuckled bitterly. “Reset the thing, try again. I don’t care whatever you do. Just make it work,” he added as he motioned to the register.
“I don’t know what else to tell you. Your cards. are. not. working.” you emphasized with a pointed look, seemingly done with the CEO’s refusal to believe that the problem was with his cards and not the shop’s system.
Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh at your words, trying his very best not to snap back at you like he normally would have. He just wanted his damn coffee and get on with his day. And getting into an argument with you was not on his to-do list for today. So, choosing the high road, he reluctantly pulled a five thousand won banknote from his wallet.
“Just forget it. I got cash,” he muttered, nearly slamming the thing down onto the counter.
You didn’t say a word as you reached for the money. Neither did you say anything when you handed him back his 300 won worth of change.
It annoyed Seungcheol that you’d chosen to give him the silent treatment, but it wasn’t like it was anything new though.
Before the whole ‘cookie’ incident – which is the name he’d assigned to the encounter he’d had with the older woman – you’d tended to ignore his teasing remarks on a daily basis. Though it was a little frustrating for Seungcheol to not have you acknowledge him when he was speaking to you – if he had to guess, it probably had to do with your boss giving you nothing but grief for absolutely no reason – he hadn’t actually minded it much.
The truth was, as the days progressed, he’d unknowingly started to look forward to his coffee runs. And no, it wasn’t only because of the good coffee. The CEO couldn’t really explain it, nor did he want to admit it, but his interactions with you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years.
Perhaps it was because you were so different from everyone else in his life. Come to think of it, aside from his friends, you were probably the only person he’d met who didn’t treat him with the utmost respect.
If he’d learned anything about you in the short time he’d known you, it was that you didn’t seem to give a shit about his CEO status.
Unlike your slimy-ass boss, who made it his mission to suck up to Seungcheol whenever he got the chance, you treated him like any other customer despite knowing his true identity. It was like he could be a completely different person with you, and it was sort of… exhilarating?
Then the cookie incident happened. The CEO had been so close to revealing his true identity when the older woman just wouldn’t stop taking advantage of the situation. And because he had been so agitated at that point, he had totally forgotten about the audience that had been able to follow the entire thing.
God knows what would have happened if he had revealed himself in front of that crowd. Seungcheol already imagined the headlines he’d be seeing the following day: ‘SEVENTEEN World’s Managing Director Choi Seungcheol Argues with Older Woman in Coffee Bar.’ While the other CEOs would have had a field day with that, he was pretty sure his PR team would have had his head for that.
So, whether it had been intentional or not, your interruption had been a very welcome one.
After that day, though, things started to look a little better for the two of you – mainly because the CEO had decided to take a different approach to your interactions. Again, he would never openly admit it, but despite the hostility between the two of you, you intrigued him, whether he liked it or not.
So, naturally, with Seungcheol being the nosy person he was, he’d made it his goal to find out more about you. But to be able to do that, he figured that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by constantly getting on your nerves. Hence, he’d toned down his teasing and provocative remarks in an attempt to show you a different side of him.
Up until today, it had been going quite well, much to his surprise. You hadn’t gotten past the usual small talk, but your daily encounters had definitely taken a turn for the better – who would have thought?
However, with how today had been going so far, the CEO had a feeling that even the smallest thing was enough to set him off and potentially ruin whatever you were working towards.
Oh, if only he’d known how right he was.
“Ah, shit,” you hissed out of nowhere, followed by a loud clanging sound that echoed through the small shop.
The CEO, who had been in the middle of writing a message to Haewon about his money situation, nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected noise. He was already on edge as a result of the bad news he’d received this morning. Add to that the fact that he almost hadn’t been able to pay for a simple coffee, and then now this near heart attack.
Seungcheol felt like he was about to reach his fucking breaking point.
“Can’t you fucking watch it?” he snapped, his focus shifting from his phone to you to find out what had caused the commotion.
The CEO realized that his response might have been a little over the top, but he hadn’t been able to control his mouth in the heat of the moment.
Your eyes were wide with shock as you seemed to process what you’d just heard.
“Pardon me?” you finally croaked while clutching onto your left hand.
“The noise,” Seungcheol grumbled. “Some people are trying to work here.”
You exhaled loudly and almost aggressively turned on the faucet before thrusting your hand underneath the water stream.
“Well, I’m sorry for spilling scorching hot milk over my hand,” you retorted, your facial expression slightly souring as soon as the water made contact with your hand.
“Not my fault you’re clumsy.”
“Listen here, you f-” You stopped yourself mid-sentence, your lips sealing shut as you ripped your eyes away from the CEO.
“Yeah? Go right ahead. What were you about to call me, hmm?” he mused, somewhat satisfied that he’d nearly caught you slipping.
“Nothing,” you spoke through gritted teeth, making it pretty clear that you weren’t planning on finishing your previous sentence. Not that Seungcheol would have expected any less.  
He just hummed, leaning himself against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, you might as well get on with my coffee though. I got other places I need to be,” he said when he noticed that you still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the sink.
Although you chose not to respond to the CEO’s words, Seungcheol knew damn well that he’d successfully managed to piss you off once again. Your jaw was tense as you not so quietly turned off the faucet and started drying your hands, and he guessed you were desperately trying to hold in whatever you wanted to say by taking a couple of deep breaths.
He knew that he was being unnecessarily hostile today. Instead of keeping his emotions under control like he should have, he’d taken them out on you – not exactly his proudest moment. But then again, it wasn’t like this was the first outburst you’d witnessed from him.
Seungcheol knew that you were able to stand your ground whenever needed, so he wasn’t all that concerned about how his words might have come across. Besides, if he was being honest, he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. His day had already been ruined, and with everything piling up, he just didn’t have it in him to pretend like everything was fine and dandy.
He just wanted his coffee and get out of there so that he could come up with a plan to fix the mess he’d gotten himself involved in.
Fortunately, you seemed just as motivated to finish his coffee and get him out of the shop, practically pushing the cup into his hand by the time it was done while shooting daggers his way.
Yeah, he could definitely kiss that progress goodbye.
Later that night, Seungcheol was once again on his way to JamJam, hoping to grab a melon pan before spending the rest of the night with Kkuma. After all the shit that had gone down today, it was fair to say that the cute little dog was probably the only living being the CEO could tolerate at the moment – mainly because he didn’t have to hide anything from her.
The same thing couldn’t be said about his secretary, though.
Haewon, being the great secretary she was, had luckily managed to solve the CEO’s card issues with only a single call to the bank. Apparently, the fraud department of his bank had blocked his cards due to ‘suspicious activity’ on his account.
This so-called ‘suspicious activity’ had consisted of a series of larger cash withdrawals that had seemed too divergent from his usual withdrawal pattern, all of which had been sufficient cause for concern. What they didn’t know was that it had, in fact, been Seungcheol himself who had taken out the money… to pay the PI he’d hired to look into Wonwoo and his sister.
When Haewon had first brought the news to him, he’d wanted to curse himself for letting his nosy secretary handle this matter. The man had been so focused on trying to hide it from her that he’d forgotten about how the people from the bank might respond. He’d basically been forced to lie about the nature of the withdrawals.
The bank might have believed his bullshit excuse, but the CEO had a feeling that Haewon did not believe a single thing that had come out of his mouth. Thankfully, she hadn’t pressed him for more information, but he knew he had to be even more careful from now on.
As Seungcheol entered his favorite bakery, he greeted Mr. Hashimoto with a small nod and quickly made his way toward the back of the shop, his eyes already set on one particular breadbasket. He reached it within a few seconds, only to be disappointed when he noticed it was completely empty.
“Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
“Fucking hell. Not now,” he whispered to himself before reluctantly turning around.
There you were, a smug look on your face as you dangled a melon pan – the last one – in front of the CEO’s nose. “Let me guess. You’re looking for this?”
Seungcheol rolled his eyes at your obvious taunting. “No shit. How did you know?”
You shrugged. “Just an educated guess. It’s too bad, though, because this seems to be the last one,” you smirked as you dropped the snack into your shopping basket. “Maybe try to be a little faster next time.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, slightly distracted by the sight of your other hand wrapped up in bandages.
Now that Seungcheol had gotten his emotions somewhat under control, he did feel a little bad about the way he’d behaved towards you this morning.
You’d gotten yourself hurt, and instead of asking if you were okay like any decent human being would have, he’d reacted like a total prick. Of course, Seungcheol knew that the right thing to do in this case was to set his pride aside and apologize, but with the way you were trying to get under his skin right now, he felt the chances of that happening were slim to none.
You awkwardly cleared your throat as you hid your hand inside your sleeve, the action bringing Seungcheol back to the matter at hand… the last melon pan, which you’d managed to snatch yet again.
“J-Just see this as payback for today,” you sputtered before quickly regaining your confidence again. “Maybe if you’d been a little nicer this morning, this melon pan could have been yours. But since you decided to be a dick for whatever reason, I hope you have a nice night crying about not getting a melon pan,” you stated, that smug look making its appearance again.
“You really think I’d cry about something like that?”
“Oh, I know you will. Just like I knew that friendly act of yours was too good to be true. You’re nothing but an entitled asshole who doesn’t know how to treat people with respect,” you spat, speaking your mind now that you didn’t have to worry about your boss.
“You don’t know shit about me,” Seungcheol sneered, not liking the assumptions that were coming from your mouth.
“You’re right. I don’t. And I’m not interested either, so cut the fucking crap and don’t try to insert yourself into my business.”
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
 After a rather uncomfortable silence, you averted your eyes and adjusted the shopping basket you were carrying.
“Well, goodnight,” you mumbled before swiftly walking away, leaving behind an agitated and melon pan-less CEO.
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Little did you know that your next encounter with the CEO would end in complete disaster.
It started out just like any other day, with you getting the coffee shop ready for opening and your boss breathing down your neck as soon as he’d stepped foot inside the shop. And not surprisingly, your lousy co-worker was nowhere to be found when your boss informed you that there’d be a shit ton of work for you to do.
Sanghoon showed up an hour past his official start time, and your superior didn’t seem to care at all, practically welcoming him with open arms and telling him to take it easy today. It took everything in you to bite your tongue when you heard those words coming from your boss. Because how was it that you were working your ass off and trying to keep the shop running while he got to take it fucking easy?
When was this lazy ass piece of shit finally going to get the karma he so much deserved?
It was a little past opening time – with you in the middle of refilling the syrups – when the door to the shop opened. Initially, you thought it was one of your regulars since a couple of them preferred to show up ahead of the morning rush, but when you got up from your crouched position to greet said person, you were met with a woman you’d never seen at the shop before.
“Hi! Can I help you?” you asked, a small smile on your face as you got ready to type in her order.
“Yeah, uhm, I hope so. I’m actually looking for my brother, Sanghoon?”
“Y-Your brother?” you stuttered, eyes widening at the new revelation.
In all your time working together with the slacker, he'd not once shared anything about his personal life. It wasn't like you'd asked him about it either because you weren't the slightest bit interested in anything involving him, but meeting someone related to him certainly piqued your curiosity.
“Yeah,” the woman muttered, a grimace taking over her face. “Is he here?”
“He’s in the back. I could call him for you?” you suggested.
The woman nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” you announced before heading to the back to search for the man in question.
It didn't take you long to find him. He was sitting in his usual spot, headphones covering his ears and full focus on his phone.
“Hey. Your sister’s here. She wants to speak to you." No response. Annoyed at his lack of situational awareness, you snapped your fingers in his line of sight.
“What do you want?” he groaned as he reluctantly took his headphones off.
You crossed your arms. “It's not me who wants anything. Your sister is out front.”
“My sister? What the-” he grumbled before scrambling out of his seat, not even bothering to take his phone with him.
Now, if you knew anything about Sanghoon, it was that he was one with his phone. You'd literally never seen him go anywhere without it, so for him to leave the device behind without a care in the world meant that whatever his sister wanted from him had to be serious.
Thankfully your boss had stepped out for a bit because there was no way you were missing out on this.
You didn't know what you expected to walk in on when you returned to the front of the shop, but you certainly hadn't been prepared for what came out of the woman's mouth.
“Just tell me what you did with the emergency fund money!”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. What the hell are you talking about?”
The woman scoffed in disbelief at her brother’s response. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I worked my ass off for that money. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, not for you to gamble away whenever you feel like it.”
Oh shit. Did he have a gambling problem?
“Why do you immediately assume I took it? It could have been mom or dad,” Sanghoon argued back.
“Because I know you took it, so don’t lie to me. Everyone knows you have a problem with money, but I’m the only one calling you out on it.”
“You really wanna go there right now?”
“Yes, I do! Because all you do is fuck around and for some absurd reason, everyone worships the ground you walk on. But I’m not falling for that shit. The fact that you still have this job is mind-boggling to me,” the woman chuckled bitterly.
Damn. You didn’t know your co-worker’s sister at all, but you liked her already – anyone who had the balls to call Sanghoon out on his shit was a hero in your eyes.
“Yah! Would you stop embarrassing me at work?”
“Return the money and I just might,” his sister retorted with a smirk.
“I already told you that I didn’t take that damn money, so go find someone else to bother. I’m done here,” Sanghoon sneered before nearly stomping his way towards the back. “Oh,” he started as he stopped in his tracks to face his sister again. “don’t come to my work to accuse me of shit you know nothing about.” After that, he quickly disappeared without another word.
“Asshole,” the woman huffed with a shake of her head.
You took that as your cue to add a little comment of your own. “I’m glad to know someone in the family got blessed with brains,” you grinned.
She couldn’t help but giggle in response. “I know right? Is he giving you a hard time too?”
“Oh, you have no idea. It’s like I’m running this thing by myself most of the time,” you sighed while making your way back to the register.
“I’m so sorry about that,” the woman shook her head. “He’s always been like this and I’m afraid he’s beyond saving at this point.”
You let out a snort at that. “I figured as much. Luckily, I kind of learned to deal with it along the way.”
“I admire you for that,” she laughed.
“Thanks. I try,” you chuckled. “Can I get you anything though? A coffee? Juice? It’s my treat.”
She was quick to shake her head at your offer. “Oh no, you really don’t have to.”
“Please. I insist. The way you handled your brother just now was awesome. I’m so used to seeing everybody praise him for the work Ido, that I never got the chance to see someone put him in his place. So, tell me. What do you want?”
“Well, in that case, I’d like an iced latte,” she smiled.
“I’m on it!”
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After that interesting start to your workday, you went right back to your chores while occasionally helping some customers. Your boss returned not long after Sanghoon’s sister left the shop, not missing a single opportunity to order you around as you made your way through your to-do list.
Then finally came the moment you’d been dreading since yesterday – Melon pan dude’s morning coffee run.
As he entered the shop, you noticed he was once again wearing his signature orange beanie, paired with a black mask and the brown coat you’d seen him wear before.
All hopes of the two of you reconciling and picking up where you left off had been crushed as a result of yesterday’s events, so to say you were happy to see him was an understatement. But just because you disliked the man and wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from him as possible, didn’t mean that you couldn’t be cordial and professional during work hours. After all, he was still a customer and your boss was watching, so really all you could do was try to prepare his coffee as quickly as possible and refrain from any unnecessary communication.
So, that’s exactly what you did.
“The usual?” you asked before he’d even reached the counter.
“Uh, yeah,” he nodded while reaching for his wallet.
“Coming right up,” you said after you’d finalized his card payment.
“Mr. Choi!” your boss’ voice sounded as he returned from the back, Sanghoon following closely behind. “Glad to see you back again. How’s the business going?”
“It’s fine,” the CEO responded with a hint of annoyance.
“You’re too modest! I heard you secured another great deal this week. You’re truly an inspiration for many, including myself,” your superior gushed.
It was pathetic really, how he tried to get into the CEO’s good graces when it was so obvious that he wanted nothing to do with him. Either your boss just didn’t care or he seriously lacked the ability to pick up on social cues.
You simply chose to block out their voices after that, putting your full attention on the coffee you were making because you did not want to hear your boss kissing the man’s ass so early in the morning.
It was only after you’d completed the order that you finally snapped out of your concentration bubble. Your boss seemed to have given up and was now talking to Sanghoon about lord knows what, while Melon pan dude was buried in his phone, probably doing something work-related.
After lightly clearing your throat, you placed the cup on the counter. “Your order is ready.”
The CEO’s head snapped up at your words, his phone momentarily forgotten as he walked up to grab his coffee.
“Thanks,” he muttered as he reached for a cup sleeve and a lid.
You nodded before turning away from him to resume with the dishes, not wanting to wait for him to exit the shop. Apparently, that was a big mistake. 
“Y/N!” your boss suddenly hissed, startling you with the intensity of his tone. “What happened to wishing our customers a nice day?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize.” Okay, that might have been a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. You just hadn’t felt the need to say anything else to the CEO at that moment.
“This is exactly why I can’t trust you to do anything right. Tell me why I never have to tell Sanghoon how to behave towards customers?” Your jaw clenched at the mention of that useless potato, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to risk angering him even further. “I’ve said this again and again, but you should take some notes from him. Because unlike you, he’s been doing a wonderful job.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” The unexpected interruption caused both you and your boss to turn your heads toward the source of the voice.
It was Melon pan dude, who apparently, had not yet left the shop after grabbing his coffee. Instead, he was right at the counter, a death glare directed at the older man standing beside you, which you knew couldn’t mean anything good.
You’d seen how things had ended with Mrs. Park and you did not want a repetition of that, especially not when your boss was one of the main characters.
Speaking of whom, said man was quick to change his attitude, his tone switching from harsh to soft in only a matter of seconds as he addressed the CEO.
“S-Sir?”
The businessman rolled his eyes at that before speaking up. “The way you’re reprimanding her and telling her to be more like that lazy shit when I literally haven’t seen him do a single useful thing around here.”
“I-I can assure you that Sanghoon is a very capable barista,” your boss stuttered, thoroughly surprised by the CEO’s blunt criticism.
The other man chuckled in response. Hell, you had the urge to do the same at the sound of that ridiculous statement, but you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.
“I think that might be the biggest joke I’ve heard this year. You do realize that this shop wouldn’t be running without her, right?” He pointed in your direction, letting his eyes rest on yours for a moment before shifting back to their original target. “I’ve unfortunately had to try his coffee once, and it was guaranteed the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
“The worst coffee? Sanghoon? No, that can’t be,” your boss shook his head in disbelief. “Y/N must have made a mistake with your coffee.”
This fucking asshole.
“Are you really that much of a misogynist that you can’t admit your guy can’t make coffee to save his life?”
“Of course n-not! I just refuse to believe he would serve anything that awful in my shop.”
Oh, if only he knew how many coffee orders you’d had to salvage as a result of your co-worker’s non-existing barista skills.
“Well, I’ll be happy to burst that delusional bubble you reside in. Letting that guy,” he pointed to Sanghoon, who looked like he couldn’t give two shits about anything being said about him, “prepare coffee should be considered a crime.” Then, the businessman leaned forward as he moved his finger in your boss’ direction. “And so should mistreating your hardworking employees.”
“Mr. Choi! Where is all of this coming from?”
You nearly rolled your eyes at the act he was putting up in front of the CEO, who could clearly see past his bullshit.
“You know, I was going to leave it at the bad review I left a few days ago, just because I didn’t want to cause a scene. But the fact that you think I haven’t noticed your disgusting behavior is beyond me,” the other man scoffed.
“Bad review? That was y-you?” Your boss was at a loss for words at that unexpected confession. You just stood there in shock as you listened to the whole thing go down.
The shop hadn’t gotten any bad reviews in a few months, so you remembered that review all too well – your boss had made sure of that. Seeing as he was obsessed with maintaining the shop’s ‘perfect’ image on Naver, he’d made it a habit to check the reviews every single chance he got. So, when he’d seen that first thing in the morning, he completely flipped out.
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No surprise, he’d taken his frustrations out on you, lecturing you about customer service and making coffee as if you hadn’t been doing it for years already. Funnily enough, it wasn’t even you that the reviewer had criticized, which made the outburst he’d directed at you that much more absurd.
Despite the shit your boss had given you for it, you’d silently enjoyed the jabs the reviewer had taken at the two men because someone had actually voiced the things you couldn’t say.
But now that you knew Melon pan dude had been behind the review, you just wished he’d kept the entire thing to himself.
It was one thing for your boss to discover one of his customers had insulted him, but for him to find out it had been the CEO he so admired was guaranteed to backfire on you. And now, with the CEO pretty much standing up for you, you could only assume that today was going to be rough. So much for telling the guy to stay out of your business.  
“Yes, I wrote it,” the CEO smirked before quickly turning serious again. “And mark my words. If I see you mistreat your employee again, I won’t hesitate to use my real name next time. Now that would be bad for business.”
“Mr. Choi. You have it totally wrong,” your boss tried to defend himself, but it was pretty clear that any attempt was futile at this point. He’d royally screwed things up with his favorite VIP customer.
“Save it,” the CEO shook his head. “Fix that attitude first,” he frowned before swiftly turning around and leaving the shop without another word. 
“What the hell did you do?” the man sneered as soon as the door had closed, leaving you to deal with the mess.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Sir,” you said, feeling genuinely confused.
Your boss scowled, turning his full body to face you this time. “Cut the shit, Y/N. What did you have to do to get him to say all that?”
What the hell was he on about?
“Sir, I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t do anything,” you emphasized, already preparing yourself for this conversation to go completely left.
“Bullshit. I’ve seen the way you interact with him. Even Sanghoon told me he’s noticed something going on between you two. So, tell me. What is it? Are you sleeping with him. Is that it?”
Your breathing hitched for a second, your mind processing the words that had just left your boss’ mouth. You? Sleeping with Mr. Rich and Famous? No. This was so not happening right now.
This was exactly the reason why you didn’t need Melon pan dude to fight your battles because look at where it got you.
“No, you’re wrong,” you shook your head, your voice quivering as you felt yourself start to shake from the adrenaline rushing through your body.
To know your good-for-nothing co-worker and your boss had been talking about you and the CEO was already a no-go in your eyes. But the fact your own boss would suggest such an awful thing made you feel more than a little disgusted.
The man was obviously in the wrong – there was no doubt about that – but you also needed to set some serious boundaries with the guy that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place. If he’d just let you do your work and kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.
“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss snapped when he noticed you start to loosen your apron.
“I need a break,” you grumbled, already having made up your mind about your next move. If you were quick, you might still be able to catch the dude before he took off. 
“Like hell you are. You’re going back to work.”
“I need a break, Sir.”
“Take a break and do what? To see that little boyfriend of yours? Yeah, I don’t think so,” he snapped.
Fuck it. You weren’t about to put up with any more of these absurd accusations – you had at least that much self-worth. Who did he think he was to put you on the spot like that? And for what? All because he got his little ego hurt by the CEO?
Enough was enough.
Against your boss’ orders, you ripped off your apron and slammed it down onto the counter right in front of his eyes. It was probably the boldest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t care. You were livid and you needed to fix this mess.
“I swear to God, Y/N. If you even think of going out there, you’re fired, you hear me?” your boss called when he noticed you storming towards the exit.
The thing was, his threat went in one ear and out the other. You’d already committed to your decision when you’d ripped off your apron, so turning back was not an option for you. Besides, as if this shop would survive without you. You estimated the chance of your boss actually firing you during these busy times close to zero, so you were willing to take that risk for now.
“Y/N! Come back here! Y/N! I’m serious!” your boss screamed, his voice echoing through the entire shop.
But it was all in vain because you were already outside, the door shutting behind you and drowning out the sound of his angry screams.
To your surprise, you spotted the man you were hoping to find leaning against his fancy sports car, almost as if he’d known you would be coming to find him. At least good to know you hadn’t risked it all for nothing.
“Yah! Melon pan dude!” you called, stalking right up to him.
He chuckled as he pushed himself away from the driver’s door. “Melon pan dude? That’s what you’ve decided on?”
You chose to ignore that comment and cut straight to the point. “What the hell is your problem?”
“What my problem is?” he scoffed and took off his beanie to run a hand through his blond locks. “I did you a favor there, you know? The man is a fucking ass and you constantly let him walk over you like it’s nothing. That’s my fucking problem.”
“So what? You think that because you’re some big-shot CEO you can just force yourself into my life and mess with my job? What happened to staying out of my fucking business?” you bit back.
“This has nothing to do with me being a CEO and you know it. It’s about human decency and respect, which that piece of shit inside clearly doesn’t know anything about. If you can’t see why I had to say something, then you’re not the person I thought you were,” he snapped, a deep frown forming on his face. 
“That’s just it! You don’t fucking know me, so why the hell do you even care? I’ve been doing fine without your help.”
“Fine?” He shook his head. “You call letting someone treat you like shit being fine? You’re not fooling me.”
“I don’t need you to tell me how I should feel, Mr. Know-It-All. Why can’t you get that through that big brain of yours?”
“Alright, you wanna be treated like crap? Be my guest,” he sneered, his eyes practically burning holes into your own. “But don’t be surprised when the whole thing backfires on you.”
“Just stay out of my business,” you warned, your stare just as intense as his. “That clear enough for you?”
“Don’t worry. I got the message,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes before ripping his car door open. “Stubborn woman,” he breathed, but it was loud enough for you to hear.
Who the hell was he calling stubborn? He was the one inserting himself in situations that didn’t concern him, so if anyone was stubborn, it was him. You weren’t about to tell him that, though, not if you wanted to prevent the situation from further escalating. Besides, you’d already spent more than enough time arguing with the man, so it was about time you ended it before it would start attracting curious passersby.
Instead, you chose to stay silent as he got inside the fancy vehicle.
“Oh.” You prevented his door from closing by quickly placing your hand on the door panel, which earned you a surprised look in return. “You better find a different coffee shop.”
With that, you took your leave and made your way back towards the shop, where there would no doubt be more problems awaiting you.
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Turned out your boss was actually serious about firing you. After you returned from your little squabble with Melon pan dude, you walked straight into your worst nightmare.
With a few customers in the shop, your boss gave you a death glare that had you shaking in your boots, and then, not so subtly, motioned for you to meet him in the back. You knew that there was no way of getting out of this, but that didn’t make you any less nervous.
You were right to be so, though, because all hell broke loose the second you’d shut the door behind you.
First, he yelled at you for disobeying him, after which he had the audacity to throw some more ridiculous accusations about you and the CEO your way. And then before you knew it, the man fired you without even letting you get so much as a word in. He made you turn in all your things and practically escorted you out the back of the shop as soon as you’d packed up, all within the span of five minutes.
The whole thing was so surreal that it took a few minutes of you standing outside to process the fact that you were now officially out of a job. You’d never been fired before, so the gravity of the whole situation really hit you when you realized you had no plan B to fall back on.
How the hell were you going to find something else on such short notice? Digging into your hard-earned savings to pay your rent was not something you had ever planned on doing, but it certainly seemed like a possibility now that you lost your only source of income. And rightfully so, that thought made you anxious.
You walked home with tears streaming down your face that morning. By the time the first sob escaped from your lips, you’d already forced yourself to move out of the shop’s vicinity – you didn’t want to risk your now ex-boss seeing you so vulnerable. And yes, you knew that it was pathetic to cry over losing a job where you weren’t even happy, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you’d turned on the faucet without a way to turn it off.
There were definitely a bunch of curious stares and disapproving looks thrown your way as you tried to navigate through Seoul with your blurred vision. If it had been any other day, you’d have hated the attention, but in your state, you just had too much going through your head to focus on something so frivolous.
One overly concerned lady even came up to you, asking if everything was alright and if there was anything she could do for you. The gesture was sweet, but the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was explain your shitty situation to a complete stranger. So, instead of sharing your troubles with her, you tried to assure her that it was nothing but a bad day and that you’d be fine in no time. It actually took quite some convincing to shake her off, but after telling her multiple times that there really was nothing to worry about, she finally let you go.
Following that brief interaction, you decided to stop by JamJam to get yourself a plethora of consolidation snacks, including a bunch of melon pan that could last you a couple of days.
Mr. Hashimoto immediately took note of the state you were in as soon as you stepped inside the shop, greeting him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. Thankfully, he wasn’t one to pry and left you to it for the most part, which you very much appreciated. That was just the type of man he was, way too sweet for his own good.
In all your time of knowing Mr. Hashimoto, you didn’t think there had ever been a day he and his delicious treats hadn’t managed to cheer you up, which is probably why you visited the shop as much as you did.
Fortunately, that morning was no different – he gave you a generous discount and a few extra pastries that he knew you loved and sent you on your way with a few encouraging words and two bags full of heavenly goodies.
For the next few days that followed, you worked your way through those two bags without a care in the world. You alternated between crying your eyes out and stuffing your face with the sugary sweets while watching every true crime documentary you could find.
Only when there was nothing left for you to munch on or cry about, you decided that you’d had spent enough time wallowing in self-pity and forced yourself to crawl out of the blanket fort you had lived in for the past three days.
Being out of commission for a couple of days also meant that you hadn’t touched your phone since you’d entered your apartment and settled down in your blanket fort. But now that you had freshened up and sat down at your small dinner table with a fresh cup of coffee, your laptop, and your phone fully charged, you had to deal with the many missed calls and texts, most of them from your mom.
It wasn’t uncommon for her and your dad to check up on you at least once or twice a week. You knew there were plenty of people who would be ecstatic to receive all that attention from their parents, but not you.
All throughout your childhood and teenage years, your parents had felt the obsessive need to control every aspect of your life. It ranged from telling you how to style your hair and how to dress, to who you could or could not interact with.
It was so bad that the few friends that you did have eventually broke off all contact with you. You couldn’t blame them – because who wanted to hang out with a girl whose parents were so controlling and scary all the time?
But still, that didn’t make you feel any less lonely throughout the years.
Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there though. No. They even went as far as to sign you up for law school without so much as discussing it with you, basically forcing their preferred career path down your throat without a single regard for your wants and needs.
That’s really when you had enough. You didn’t want to go to some stupid law school, and you definitely didn’t want to follow in your dad’s footsteps and become a litigation lawyer. You wanted to be able to make your own decisions and get a taste of that adult life you’d been dreaming about for so long.
That’s why, after many many arguments and your parents threatening to cut you off, you finally made the decision to leave the place you’d called home for as long as you could remember.
When you first moved to Seoul, you didn’t have much aside from some money you had saved up. Your parents had lived up to their words and completely stopped giving you money, but you weren’t going to let that stop you from following your dreams of being independent.
For years, you had lived comfortably, never having to worry about being able to afford food, clothes, presents, you name it – one of the perks with your dad being a top lawyer and all. But with that luxury had come a ton of rules and restrictions that you wouldn’t even want to wish upon your worst enemy.
If finally being free meant that you actually had to work for your money for once, and struggle just like any other normal person, you were happy to do it. Besides, you never were about that fancy lifestyle anyway. A simple life where you could do whatever you wanted was all you needed.
So, you took on a couple of restaurant jobs to get yourself settled in, and as a result, you discovered your true passion – coffee making. You’d always been an avid coffee drinker and very much enjoyed the whole brewing process, but making a career out of it had never really crossed your mind. That was until you saw just how beautiful and satisfying the art of coffee making could be.
Seeing your barista co-workers create such pretty and tasty creations made you eager to try it out yourself, which eventually inspired you to enroll in a barista course and get your diploma.
Eventually, slowly but surely, after hours and hours of practicing your brewing and latte art skills, you became a true pro at your job.
It had taken a couple of years of you proving that you could make it out there without any help from your parents, but here you were, doing just fine without them. You were pretty sure they thought you’d come crawling back within no time and beg them to send you to that damn law school, but boy had they been wrong. When they understood that you were, in fact, not planning on coming back home, they gradually came around and dropped the whole “I want you to follow in your father’s footsteps” agenda.
At least, that’s what they made it seem like.
Initially, you’d been happy about the regular calls with your parents, mainly because you thought that they were genuinely happy for you and had finally accepted the barista path you’d chosen. But as the weeks passed, you realized that was far from the truth. Your parents might have thought they were being slick with their ‘positive’ approach, but it didn’t take you long to see right through it.
The constant calls were simply a means to keep an eye on you, making sure that you weren’t making a fool out of yourself in their absence while at the same time jumping at every opportunity to criticize your barista work.
It was for that exact reason you decided it was best not to tell your parents about the whole getting fired thing. Because although your friends were in the loop about your work situation, your parents definitely weren’t – and you liked keeping it that way. As far as they knew, you had an amazing job with a stable income and a boss who valued your work. Knowing how much they disapproved of your big move and career choice, this news would simply give them a reason to tell you a big fat “I told you so,” and you really didn’t want to hear any of that.
It was already bad enough that you’d ended up in this situation in the first place, so any form of negativity from your parents on top of that was something you didn’t think you could handle right now.
What you did need was a new job… fast. Because if you had to spend another week cooped up in your apartment feeling sorry for yourself, you would no doubt lose it.
Unfortunately, that task proved to be harder than you thought. While there were many barista opportunities in a big city such as Seoul, none of them particularly caught your attention.
The majority of the coffee shops out there only offered part-time positions, which you had no choice but to cross off your list. With only two or three days of work, you’d be forced to take on another job if you wanted to be able to afford rent, andthat was definitely out of the question.
As for the full-time positions you could find, they would all put you in a position that was way less favorable than you were currently in – living from paycheck to paycheck was not something you ever wanted to go back to. But then again, it wasn’t like you were in any position to be picky either.
“Ugh, what am I gonna do?” you groaned, slamming your laptop shut before burying your face into your hands in frustration.
If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be out of a job and considering a downgrade in salary, you probably would have declared them insane. But low and behold, that was the reality you were currently living, and it made you angrier than you would have expected.
You were angry at your asshole ex-boss for treating you like crap and always thinking the worst of you. You were angry at your lousy excuse of a co-worker, Sanghoon, for feeding your ex-boss a bunch of lies about you behind your back and basically throwing you under the bus despite all the shit you’d done to save his ass. Hell, you were even angry at yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you and allowing it to end the way it did. But absolutely nothing beat the anger you felt towards the man who had been at the center of it all – Melon pan dude.  
Everything had been going just fine until that entitled prick showed up and decided to ruin your life. Perhaps ‘just fine’ wasn’t the best way to describe it, but at least you had been able to get by all that time without any major issues.
Then he came along and changed everything, whether he intended to or not.
Honestly, the more you thought about it, the more you felt like you should have known that he would be trouble the moment he set foot inside the shop.
Somewhere deep inside, you probably already knew he would be trouble, especially given the circumstances of your first meeting. Oh, and who could forget about the orange juice incident? Or the encounter with Mrs. Park? Not to mention the numerous provocations he had thrown your way over the past week and a half.
But even despite all of that, you never could have known that the CEO would indirectly become the reason for your getting fired.
Of course, you weren’t completely innocent either. You could have taken the time to think things through and approached the situation calmly, but instead, you let your emotions get the better of you and chose to confront him in the middle of your shift with your superior right there.
Then again, if only the dude hadn’t opened his big mouth, your ex-boss wouldn’t have said those awful things about you and him in the first place. And as a result of that, you wouldn’t have gone outside to look for him, and your boss wouldn’t have had to threaten you with your job – in other words, all of this could have been prevented if he had just stayed away from Oh My! Coffee like he said he would.
The man just had a talent for worming his way into people’s business and getting on their nerves. How he got away with it every single time was beyond you.
Your guess was that being managing CEO of a multi-billion-dollar business had something to do with that. Being in that position also meant that he would never have to worry about getting fired or running out of savings, and it just wasn’t fair. While you were out here being miserable, he was out there living his life while driving around in his fancy sports car, probably not even aware of the disaster he’d caused with his meddling.
Just what was so special about him? You didn’t get it.
Without even realizing it you’d already opened up your laptop once again, this time for a completely different purpose. You’d vowed to never research the man and become one of those people, but it was like your fingers had a mind of their own.
You needed to know what he was like outside of your interactions with him, so where better to look than the Internet?
Job ads long forgotten, you typed in the CEO’s name and clicked on one of the first articles that popped up. It was one of him closing a business deal with some big international corporation that would make him and the other CEOs of SEVENTEEN World even richer than they already were. Good for them and all, but it wasn’t exactly the type of content you were looking for.
If you wanted the gossip and details about his social life, you needed to turn to the blogs instead. That’s how you eventually ended up on Dispatch’s website, scouring their many articles about the man for anything that seemed interesting enough.
It didn’t take long for you to find something useful. You discovered that he had a younger sister who was a successful lawyer at a high-end law firm. There wasn’t really a lot of information aside from some details about his sister and a few pictures of the two of them together, so you were about to close it and move on to something else.
That was until you stumbled on another article that was linked to the one you were reading. The post was a little older – as in three years older – and the title read ‘Protective or Controlling? What to make of SEVENTEEN World’s CEO Choi Seungcheol?’.
“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” you snorted as you skimmed through the article with a newfound curiosity.
If you had to believe everything that was being said, he was extremely protective of her. Or, as others have described, perhaps a little controlling at times. The article mentioned a couple of instances, but the one that stood out most was the SEVENTEEN World anniversary party, where apparently, several reporters had noticed the CEO clinging to his sister’s side for pretty much the entirety of the evening.
Dispatch had even included a video with a little snippet of said event, where you could clearly see what the article had described in detail.
“Poor woman,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched how the man shamelessly pulled his sister away from the small group of men she had been happily conversing with.
It was quite obvious from her facial expressions that she was anything but happy with her brother’s actions, but she just went along with it for the public’s sake, no doubt.
Seeing all of that reminded you a little bit of you and your parents back when you were still in high school. They had been less obvious than the CEO in their approach, but they were always very clear about keeping you away from “people not worth your time” or whatever the hell that meant.
So naturally, you felt bad seeing someone as successful as her having to deal with something – or rather someone – like that. But who knows? Perhaps he was, in fact, doing it to protect her for reasons not mentioned in the article. You could only infer so much from a couple of described instances and a 20-second-long clip without any additional context regarding their history.
The only thing you did know for sure after doing your little research was that his love for sticking his nose in people’s business was not just restricted to you.
By the time you finally ripped your eyes away from your laptop to check the time, a good hour and a half had passed since you started looking into Melon pan dude. You had been so caught up in trying to dig up information about the guy that you’d completely lost sight of your initial goal – finding a job that would pay the bills.
See? Even when he wasn’t around, he still had the ability to mess with your mind… and you hated it.
“Get your shit together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself as you sat back down behind your laptop after a short break, now with a new cup of coffee to motivate yourself for another hour or two.
But that coffee only lasted you so long, and so did your motivation.
Just thirty minutes into your search you had already reached the point where you wanted to shut your laptop and call it a day. You almost did actually, already in the process of closing all your tabs when the Dispatch tab you’d forgotten to get rid of before distracted you again.
Only this time, it wasn’t an article that caught your attention but a job ad that had popped up on the right side of the screen. It was a barista opportunity, which, ironically enough, came from Cat Café SEVENTEEN, one of SEVENTEEN World’s large enterprises.
For just a moment after clicking the ad, you hesitated. Not because you hated the idea of working at a cat café, but because of its association with Melon pan dude, whom you wanted to avoid at all costs. That thought alone was enough not to want to entertain the idea in the first place. But then you made the mistake of glimpsing at the proposed salary, which threw all those thoughts right out the window.
The pay was at least a twenty percent upgrade from your salary at Oh My! Coffee for only five days a week, which was crazy, considering you used to work six days a week plus unpaid overtime. On top of that, you would be working evenings for the majority of your shifts, which meant extra time to sleep and worry-free mornings. Considering the fact that you were not a morning person, this arrangement would be more than fine with you.
And then there was, of course, the fact that it was a freaking cat café. You hadn’t yet had the chance to visit their Seoul location – or any location for that matter – but from what you’d read on the official website, customers were highly encouraged to play and cuddle with the cats during their visits. You were a big animal lover, with cats and dogs tying at the top of your list, so it only made the place seem that much more appealing.
The obvious connection between the café and Melon pan dude did briefly cross your mind again as you read through the vacancy, but those worries were quick to dissipate when you stumbled upon a list of the twenty cats currently residing at the café.
Who in their right mind could say no to those cute little faces? You definitely couldn’t, nor did you want to pass up on such a great opportunity.
That’s why you decided to send in your application before that little voice in the back of your mind could convince you to back out. 
In all honesty, you were prepared for the worst – especially seeing as bad luck just seemed to follow you wherever you went – which is why you were all the more shocked when you got an email notification not even three hours later. You’d been in the middle of drinking yet another cup of coffee, which you nearly spit out at the sight of the sender and subject header.
“No fucking way,” you breathed, a small smile forming on your lips as you carefully read through the email. Maybe there was still a little bit of luck left in you after all.
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“Y/N, right?”
“Yes. Thank you for considering me, Mr. Choi,” you greeted the man you’d come to know as the CEO of Cat Café SEVENTEEN – Choi Hansol.
You would expect him to be super busy, having to manage all those cafes in different locations and all. But here he was, meeting you for your interview as if he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t know whether to be honored or anxious.
“No need to be so formal,” he chuckled before sitting down a comfortable-looking chair. “Just Vernon is fine. Please. Take a seat.”
“Right. Thank you,” you mumbled and sat down in the other available chair.
Now that you were sitting right across from the man, you suddenly felt the nerves creep into your body. The way he had made it sound on paper was everything you could have dreamed of – almost too good to be true even. But you truly hoped that wasn’t all it was because if you had to relive another Oh My! Coffee experience, you were going to punch a wall.
“Your resume is impressive. Barista certificates, work experience, and people skills. We’ve been looking for another experienced barista for quite some time now,” he nodded before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “If you don’t mind me asking, is there a specific reason you left your previous job?”
“Oh, uh, I…” Shit. Now what? Telling your prospective boss that you got fired from your previous job would certainly not help you leave a good first impression. However, lying was also not how you wanted to go about it.  “Well, it’s a little complicated, I guess,” was all you could come up with in your panic.
Way to fuck it up, Y/N.
“Complicated, huh?” the CEO mused, his brows furrowing as he studied the documents in front of him.
Oh no. Was this going to be the moment he tells you it isn’t going to work out after all?
“Let me guess? You got fired?”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at his speculation. “Yes,” you whispered before quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment. This interview was so not going how you wanted it to go.
“I see. Your resume tells me you worked at Oh My! Coffee, which means that Park Wonshik must have been your boss, correct?” He waited for your confirmation, which you gave by slowly nodding your head while wondering where he was going with this. “Well, I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a couple of things about the man. Word travels around fast in my world and he’s known to have a rather… how should I say this? Unorthodox way of handling things, I guess is the right way to put it?” he chuckled.
“You could say that,” you muttered, feeling a surge of anger spread through your body at the thought of that jackass. Watch him ruin your chances of getting another job without even having to lift a goddamn finger.
The sound of paper rustling snapped you out of your little trance. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to hold this against you,” he started while folding the documents he’d been looking at just a few moments ago. “We’ve all had to deal with shitty bosses at some point, so no need to look so scared,” he grinned, which took you by surprise.
“I’m willing to give everyone a chance if I think they’re a fit. I’d like to think of myself as a pretty laid-back boss, so as long as you work hard, we won’t have any problems.”
Well, that was definitely not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Perhaps you’d been too quick to jump to conclusions.
After having spent less than ten minutes in his presence, you could already tell that the CEO sitting in front of you was the complete opposite of the CEO who had made your life hell for the past two weeks.
For one, he did not give off ‘entitled prick’ vibes. On the contrary, he seemed like one of the most chill guys you’d ever met. If you hadn’t done your research and looked him up before meeting him, there was no way you would have believed someone like him to be one of the country’s most successful businessmen. The fact that he was conducting your interview in jeans and a simple white t-shirt paired with a jean jacket told you as much. You were all for it, though. A suit would have made the whole thing much more formal, and seeing as you were nervous enough as it was, the casual outfit certainly helped relieve some of the tension.
You just needed to make sure he liked you enough to hire you.  
“Alright!” The CEO clapped his hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have a very important question to ask you,” he said, suddenly turning very serious as he slightly leaned himself forward.
“How do you feel about cats?”
You couldn’t help but release the breath you’d unknowingly been holding, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. “Oh, I love cats! Lived with three of them back home, so I’m very comfortable around them,” you smiled brightly.
The man across from you nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. “Good, I just wanted to be sure. We’re a cat café after all, so you’ll be stuck with them every shift,” he laughed, which you returned with laughter of your own.
“Oh, please. I hardly see that as a punishment. If I’m being honest, the cats were actually the reason I was so excited to come here in the first place,” you confessed, hoping that it didn’t make you sound like a complete suck-up. It was true though. Their presence would no doubt make your workdays much more bearable.
“Is that so? Well, in that case, would you like to meet them?”
You were already nodding before he’d even finished his sentence. “I’d love that, Sir.”
“Didn’t I tell you to drop the formalities?” he grinned while getting up from his chair.
“Right, sorry,” you mumbled, not used to being so informal with a higher-up.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, motioning you to get up. “You coming or what?”
You nearly jumped out of your chair at his question, already thrilled at the thought of getting to meet every single one of those adorable kitties.
“Yes, right behind you!”
He ended up guiding you out of his office and through part of the café before opening a door that led to a large, cozy-looking room.
The giant space was filled with cat trees and houses of various sizes, fancy cat beds, and an abundance of cat toys, some of which you didn’t even know existed. Most of the walls were decorated with jumping platforms, tiny ladders, and cute hammocks suitable for cats, which gave it a little bit of a playground vibe.
It was like you’d stepped right into cat paradise, and you loved everything about it. You literally couldn’t stop admiring while the CEO provided you with more information.
“This is the room the cats reside in when the café is closed. Since we open at ten, we already moved them into the café, but I just wanted to give you a better picture of how we do things around here.”
“Is there anyone who checks up on the cats during the night?” you asked, noticing a few cameras mounted to the ceiling.
“Yes, we have a special caretaker who checks up on them twice a night. He usually helps me move the cats from one room to the next after closing and makes sure they get the right food and treatments. We have a vet on call in case of emergencies as well. Oh, and she also does their monthly check-ups.”
“Wow, that sounds like a great system,” you replied, finally managing to put your full focus on the CEO once again. 
“We kinda have to with so many cats,” he snickered before motioning you to follow him again. “Without this system, we wouldn’t be able to do even a quarter of the things we’re doing.”
You quickly followed behind him, trying your best to store all the information he was telling you while trying not to trip over your own feet.
He finally stopped in front of another door, this time a larger and prettier one that was made entirely out of glass. Now that you got a good look at it, you observed that the walls in this part of the café were made of glass as well.
Realizing that you were admiring the glass construction, the CEO turned to face you. “Pretty isn’t it? During the designing phase, I decided to section off a small part of the café and turn it into a cat-free zone. With a lot of people coming in for their to-go orders, we just didn’t want to put unnecessary stress on the cats. Also, there are several regulars who love our drinks and sweets but don’t want to be surrounded by cats all the time, so it works out perfectly,” he explained.
“That’s actually… genius. You’re so smart,” you mumbled, which earned another laugh from the CEO.
“I know right? I have my moments.”
“Right. Of course you do,” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.
Of course he was smart. How else would he have become so successful? Obviously not by making a bunch of impulsive decisions.
“You ready?” he looked at you expectantly.
“Very.”
That was all the confirmation he needed before he opened the big glass doors. Your eyes went wide at the sight that greeted you.
This part of the café was huge, even bigger than the cat room you’d been in before. Aside from the cat trees and wall-climbing constructions that could also be found in the other room, this room had a completely different vibe.
First, you noticed that there were numerous small benches placed against the walls throughout the entire room, with another few dozen small tables located in the center to utilize the space to its full capacity. Then your eyes fell on a big open area on the left side of the room, which was decorated with a variety of bean bags and two large boxes with plenty of cat toys to choose from.
It was another cat paradise. That was for sure.
You were – again – so distracted by the layout of the room that you hadn’t even noticed the ball of fur approaching you. “Oh! Hi there, cutie. Who might you be?” you cooed at the cat that was now rubbing against your legs.
“That’s Aeng-Du. She’s a curious one. Feel free to pick her up. She loves attention and cuddles.”
You didn’t need any more encouragement after that and quickly leaned down to scoop the fluffy cat into your arms. It was the best feeling ever and you wished it didn’t have to come to an end. The last time you held a cat was years ago, so you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to cuddle one – heavenly, that was the only way to describe it.
Not long after that, other cats started showing up. There was Suk, whom you were told was a very clingy baby who needed lots of cuddles. There were Kyu and Hae, two siblings who were found in a dumpster and now living their best lives at the cat café. There was Bin, who was described as the clumsy one of the group, always tripping over his own paws. And there were many more, but there simply wasn’t enough time to pet them all.
There was, however, one cat that seemed reluctant to approach you, never straying too far from the CEO but at the same time keeping an eye on you at all times.
“Who’s that?” You pointed to the cat hiding behind the CEO’s legs.
“This? This is Jang-Mi, one of our newest additions. She’s been getting along with the other cats just fine, but she’s still a little scared when it comes to meeting new people. She just needs some time to warm up,” he said and leaned down to scratch her cute little forehead.
“Are you familiar with our concept?”
“I am!” you nodded, smiling down at a now fast-asleep Suk in your arms. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re giving these cats a chance to find a new home like this. They’re adorable.”
You thought the concept of a café and adoption center in one was simply ingenious. While the cats were given the chance to find their forever homes like this, customers were able to find a furry friend they could shower with love and affection. And the relaxing atmosphere certainly helped them get closer in a more natural setting. It was a win-win situation.
“Who knows? You might end up adopting one yourself at some point. They are very hard to resist,” he smirked.
“I wish,” you sighed.
Although the thought of adopting a cat was very tempting, your small apartment was not at all suitable for a cat. Besides, your landlord didn’t allow pets, so that was definitely out of the question… for now, at least.
“Ah, before I forget, there’s one final test.”
“Final test?” you questioned, gently placing Suk inside one of the cat beds near the closest wall.
“Yes. You don’t think I’d let you prepare coffee for my customers without having tasted it, right?”
“Oh,” you breathed, relieved that it wasn’t anything impossible. “Of course, Si- Vernon,” you quickly corrected yourself when you noticed him giving you a look. It was going to take a while to get used to the first-name basis thing.
Reluctantly, you left the kitties behind to do what you actually came here to do – making coffee.
Vernon introduced you to Jay and Areum, two very bubbly staff members who took care of most of the serving and assisted with the making of non-caffeinated drinks during the busy hours.
You also met Jia, the barista responsible for the morning shift, who was kind enough to tell you all you needed to know. It was so refreshing to see that, unlike Sanghoon, all of them actually knew what they were doing and contributed something rather than sitting on their asses all day.
If you did end up getting the job by some miracle, you at least wouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself like you’d been doing for over two years.
After that short information session, Vernon instructed you to make a few of the most popular coffee drinks on the menu for him to taste: an iced Americano, a flat white, a vanilla latte, an espresso, and a cappuccino.
The task sounded easy enough. If anything, you’d probably be able to do all of those with your eyes closed, latte art included. But seeing as you didn’t want to come off as cocky when you hadn’t even gotten the job yet, you chose to keep that particular comment to yourself and quickly got to work with the knowledge Jia had bestowed upon you.  
Since all the coffee machines were very high-end – and much better than the ones that were available at Oh My! Coffee – it took you even less time than it normally would have taken you to finish your task. Jia was there with you the entire time, watching carefully as you did your thing, and only commented here and there when you needed help finding a specific tool or syrup.
“Wow. I think that was the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone complete five orders,” Jia gawked after you’d placed the final order on your tray.
“Oh, really?” you asked, surprised, and turned your head just in time to see her nodding.
“Yes,” she chuckled. “I don’t even think I’d be able to do that, and I’ve been working here for a few years now.”
“Well, thanks, I guess?” you grinned, happy to receive a compliment from a fellow barista. It made you feel extra good about the coffees you made, so you were all too eager to pick up the tray and take it to Vernon, who was sitting at one of the smaller tables.
“Finished already?” he asked, briefly glancing at his watch when you announced your presence. “I have to say I’m usually more of a quality over quantity kind of person, but I’m pretty impressed. The latte art is fantastic, very fitting,” he nodded as he admired the cute cats you’d shaped on three of the coffees.
“Thank you. I hope they are to your liking,” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back as he picked up the glass filled with iced Americano first.
Watching him try your coffee creations was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things you’d experienced in a long time. It wasn’t like you weren’t confident in your skills – because you were – but the CEO’s face remained so stoic for the entirety of it that it made you wonder if you’d done something wrong.
What if the coffee was too strong? Or what if the foam wasn’t to his liking? Those were the types of questions that kept going through your mind as you waited for his verdict.
“So, the thing is,” he started after having tried all of the five drinks. “I actually don’t enjoy drinking coffee.”
Wait, what?
How the hell was he supposed to judge your brewing skills if he didn’t even like the taste of coffee? The man literally ran a café where the majority of the clientele consisted of coffee drinkers for god’s sake.
“I see,” you frowned, not knowing whether to cry or laugh at the information he had just shared with you.
Sensing your confusion, Vernon motioned for you to sit down across from him.
“I usually get one of my friends to try the coffee, but no one was available today,” he explained when you’d sat down. Ah. That made a little more sense, even though it did nothing to calm your raging nerves. “And judging by your facial expression, I should probably just get straight to the point, huh?”
“Yes, please,” you blurted without another thought, just wanting to get rid of this uncertainty you were feeling.
“Alright, alright,” he laughed, seemingly amused with your reaction. “What I’m saying is that your coffee is good, better than good even. Hell, I might even start drinking coffee if it’s always going to be like this,” he stated.
Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the praise. “Wow, I- Are you serious?” you stammered, feeling at a complete loss of words.
A non-coffee drinker telling you your coffee was so good that it could potentially convert him was the ultimate compliment in your eyes.
“Do you see me as someone who would joke about such things?”
“Would you hate me if I said yes?”
“I like you,” he smirked before taking another sip of the cappuccino you’d prepared.
“So, does that mean you’re hiring me or…?”
He placed the coffee cup he was holding back onto the tray. “That depends on what your answer to my next question is going to be.”
“Okay?” you gulped nervously, waiting for him to speak.
The CEO leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as a grin slowly made its way onto his face.
“Can you start tomorrow?”
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“Vernon, everything good?” Seungcheol asked as soon as he picked up his friend’s call.
It was very much unlike Vernon to call him – or anyone for that matter – with the exception of emergencies. He was more of a texter, and any work-related calls were usually handled by his personal secretary, Cho Byungho, so for him to call Seungcheol on a random weeknight was somewhat worrisome.
“Yeah, Hyung. Everything is fine, no worries,” Vernon assured his friend. “The reason I’m calling you is to tell you that you need to come to the café for some coffee.”
Well, thatwas not what the CEO expected to come out of his mouth. He’d been prepared for something bad, not his friend inviting him for a goddamn coffee.
“You called to tell me that? I stepped out of an important meeting with Jeonghan to take your call. What the hell happened to your no-call policy?”
“Yeah, about that…” Vernon cleared his throat. “I had to make an exception for this. Listen, you’re still looking for a new coffee place, right? Well, I just so happened to have found a new barista. And you also know how I’m not a fan of coffee, right? I had a few sips and let me tell you my mind was blown, that’s how good it was. She’s like a freaking coffee guru.”
The man wasn’t wrong. Seungcheol was indeed still looking for a new coffee place.
Ever since your argument the other day, he hadn’t been back at Oh My! Coffee and he intended to keep it that way. You had finally gotten what you wanted. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Just the thought of having to face you again after that was enough to make his blood boil.
How could someone as mouthy as you be so stubborn to let that pathetic excuse of a boss belittle you on a daily basis? Seungcheol just didn’t get it. And he didn’t want to stick around for it either, regardless of how good the coffee was. But unfortunately, that decision also meant that he was back to square one, trying to find a coffee bar that matched the quality of your coffee.
“How good can it be? Last time you said you found someone good I ended up throwing that shit away,” Seungcheol scoffed, recalling the bitter coffee one of Vernon’s previous baristas had prepared for him.
“I’m telling you, it’s different this time. She just started, but customers are loving it already. I have no doubt you will love it too.”
The coffee at the café had never been up to the CEO’s standards, so he had a hard time believing that it would actually be different this time. And the fact that the cat café owner wasn’t exactly the best judge when it came to coffee didn’t help his case either.
“I don’t have time for this shit, Vernon,” Seungcheol sighed, already feeling like he’d wasted enough time with this pointless conversation.
“Come on, Hyung!” the other man whined. “Just stop by after you’re done with your meeting. And take Jeonghan Hyung with you too. It’s been ages since you both visited the café.”
“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, praying that the other CEO would let him get back to his meeting if he just agreed to it. “But you’re paying.”
“As if I would ever let you pay. See you later!” was the last thing Vernon said before abruptly ending the call.
“This guy,” Seungcheol mumbled with a shake of his head before returning to the conference room.
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About two and a half hours later, the two CEOs found themselves in Seungcheol’s car, driving towards Cat Café SEVENTEEN. Their meeting had dragged on for far too long – way longer than the one and a half they had initially scheduled – so both men were glad to be done with it. Although Seungcheol had been reluctant to pay a visit to the café not too long ago, the thought of getting a dose of caffeine after that tiresome ordeal sounded like music to his ears.
“So, what exactly did Vernon tell you about this new barista?” Jeonghan asked from the passenger seat.
“Nothing aside from the fact that her coffee is good,” Seungcheol shrugged.
The fashion CEO couldn’t help but snort at that. “Vernon said her coffee was good? The man doesn’t even like coffee.”
“Tell me about it. That’s why I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I’m definitely intrigued,” Jeonghan chuckled. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to ask you yet, but what’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asked, knowing very well what Jeonghan was referring to. He just wasn’t in the mood to talk about any of it, not even with his best friend.
“You’ve been acting… I don’t know, strange?”
“I’m not doing anything different, so I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded, hoping that the other CEO would just drop the subject.
“Now that’s some bullshit. You’re suddenly doing these random check-ins without announcing yourself beforehand. You never used to do that.”
“So what? I just want to be more involved, is that so wrong?” Seungcheol frowned, his grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly.
“It’s not wrong. It’s just odd, that’s all.”
“Well, there’s nothing going on. Just drop it, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol snapped as he turned off the car engine.
The other man sighed in defeat as he opened the car door, knowing he was not going to get much more out of his friend. “If you say so.”
What Jeonghan didn’t know was that there was, in fact, a reason Seungcheol was suddenly dropping in for surprise visits at every single one of the SEVENTEEN World HQs.
With the news of his other best friend and his sister being in an intimate relationship, he’d made it his mission to keep an even closer eye on the two of them. In the best-case scenario, he would catch them red-handed, either at or outside of work.
However, in order to achieve that, he needed to be as subtle as possible, which was a lot harder than he thought with so many eyes on him. Because if he only targeted Wonwoo, the other CEOs and their secretaries were bound to get suspicious, which is why he’d come up with the current tactic – check up on each of the CEOs to cover up the fact that he was actually only interested in Wonwoo.
As for his sister, she was no doubt wondering what the hell had possessed him, with his sudden interest in her personal life and his frequent unannounced visits at the oddest times. But Seungcheol didn’t care. He was determined to see this through to the end – that is, he would play along with their lies until he was ready to confront the two.
“Hyungs!” Vernon called out from behind the counter as soon as the CEO pair had walked through the door.
“Sup, Vernon?” Jeonghan greeted, raising his hand to greet his other friend.
“Come meet the barista I’ve been telling you about,” Vernon said excitedly as he motioned to the woman standing by his side.
“Cheol?” Jeonghan asked, noticing that his friend had stopped walking and was instead shooting daggers at something ahead.
The CEO in question suddenly understood what Vernon had been talking about when he said it would be different this time, and he definitely understood why his friend had been so utterly positive about the quality of his new barista’s coffee. Because the barista Vernon had been praising was you, the woman who’d made the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but also the woman he so desperately wanted to avoid.
Why the hell were you here?
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
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© All right reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!
AAAND THAT'S A WRAP FOR PART ONE OF MELON PANG! Hope you enjoyed and want to come back for more 🤭
I am not sure yet when part two is going to be released, but I will keep you updated as much as I can! All I can say is that it's going to be interesting hehe 👀 Expect a lot more interaction between Cheol and the reader + other CEOs.
Feedback/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated!
☀ if you want to be added to the tag list (or removed), leave a comment, or send me an ask and specify that you want to be tagged for my SEVENTEEN World tag list! 
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gay-jesus-probably · 10 months
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Let me just preface this by saying everyone is allowed to have their own opinions, TOTK is a really fun game, and I'm glad that other people have been able to enjoy the story as well.
...But I'm being dead serious with my complaints about the narrative being 100% imperialist propaganda. And I'm getting really tired of people replying to those posts by saying it can't be imperialist propaganda, because imperialism is bad and the game says that Hyrule is the good guys.
Like, guys. That's not the argument you think it is. Yes, I am aware that the game tells us Ganondorf is a flat, one dimensional character with no ambitions, interests or motivations beyond destroying the entire world for the hell of it, and also it's totally not racist because he's green, not brown like literally every other member of his race. Unfortunately literally all of these things are kind of the entire goddamn problem.
See, the thing is, everyone trying to make these arguments is accepting the game at face value. Hyrule is the perfect and almighty nation chosen by the demigod Zonai, and whose royal family has the right to rule due to their divine heritage. The other races exist to serve the glory of Hyrule, and they're happy to do it. Ganondorf is pure evil and must be stopped at any costs.
But that's not how anything works. The story informing me that Hyrule is the ultimate good that has done nothing wrong is the whole goddamn reason why I don't trust Hyrule at all. There's always more of a reason than that. And the game fucking suggests there was more going on! Ganondorf mentions Rauru has repeatedly 'invited' the Gerudo to become Rauru's subjects, and let's be clear here, it doesn't matter how peaceful those 'invitations' were, when the guy who owns every single magical nuclear missile in the world repeatedly demands you surrender to him, there's always going to be an implied threat of 'do it or get magically nuked'. Just that power difference alone shows us exactly why Ganon would feel threatened enough to invade. It's because Rauru was holding a gun to his head, and Ganon was expected to just trust that he'd never pull the trigger.
And yes, even if it wasn't intentional Hyrule was always threatening to wipe out the other nations, considering the entire royal family walked around openly wearing their magical nukes as cute accessories. If they couldn't be safely hidden away, there wouldn't be four other secret stones sitting untouched in a vault until the last second.
But that's never acknowledged. Of course Hyrule is the only nation with the right to the secret stones; even if other races get to touch them, they can only have them if they swear eternal blind loyalty and servitude to the glory of King Rauru and Princess Zelda. Ganon wanting to have one magical nuclear bomb out of a stockpile of eight of them is proof that he's dangerous and evil. I mean my god, what if he just walked around all day wearing a magical nuke and using its power for his own benefit, that would be terrifying. It's only okay when Hylian royalty does it.
And you can't argue that Ganon betrayed his own people, considering we don't get to know fucking anything about his relationship with his people. He's shows as the leader of the Gerudo, we're told he's a hero to his people, he has soldiers that loyally follow him into battle... and then oh nevermind, they all hate him and will spend eternity trying to atone for sharing a race with him. How did the entire race do a complete 180 in the span of at most a few months? Who cares, what's important is that now they accept they exist to serve Hyrule so they get to be the good guys now and we don't need to know why they were following Ganondorf, or why they stopped following him.
Basically my point is that yeah, I fucking know how the game insists everything went down. That's the entire reason I think it's imperialist propaganda, because the entire story feels like Hylian propaganda to conceal and justify some horrific atrocities that caused all of this. I literally do not believe that I'm getting the story through reliable narrators, especially considering that the only people allowed to actually tell me the story are all the characters that have the most reasons to be heavily biased in favour of Hyrule.
When the game shows me protagonists that have a massive amount of power and control over the entire world, then says the bad guy doesn't like that system just because he's evil, and literally nothing and nobody in the game says anything to oppose that take, I have some questions about what the fuck the story isn't telling me. And I'd really appreciate it if people would stop trying to argue with me just by telling me to stop asking those questions.
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channelinglament · 11 months
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Sksjdjjkskskskskksk
I know I should be focusing more on reqs, but I had to take this off my mind skskksskks (btw I'm rn in the underground belobog part of story) (I kinda called it SAHSR as in self aware hsr)
☆•°Self-Aware Honkai Star Rail°•☆
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Tw: no proofread, mentioned drowning(but it didn't happen), war, hate, religious themes, self awareness, kinda ooc, grammar mistakes because I am typing this at 12AM instead of sleeping, isolation
So, you know how in the beginning we play as Kafka? Yeah, I'm pretty sure she felt your presence. At first she was kinda weirded out, and was on guard. Who knows what you would do to her, while controlling her?
Oh look, you're helping her.. Hmm, maybe you aren't that bad after all. Still on guard, but thankful. With you she seems to fight more faster and is more efficient.
Same goes with Silver Wolf. They don't seem to mind your presence that much.
You even helped them to pick a trailblazer! But after picking them, you left Kafka and Silver Wolf. They didn't really mind it. They have been doing good without you, so it should be fine!
Meanwhile, the trailblazer is confused. First, they don't remember anything except their own name(or the name you gave them), then Kafka leaves and someone is watching over them. Oh how confusing and strange. But they caught early on that you're helping them. You're not an enemy.
During their "adventures" trailblazer starts thinking of you as a family. Kinda annoying since you control their body most the time (unless it's a cutscene) but you're cool nonetheless. They see you as a safespace.
Meanwhile March 7th and Dan Heng don't understand what is happening. Who is controlling them? Why after they met trailblazer? Why are you controlling them?
I think March would, just like the trailblazer, like you and find you annoying at the same time. Dan Heng would stay on guard (but also see you as safe space/nice person to hang with). Not as much on guard as when you first...met but still. It'll take him time to get off guard. The more time you spend with them, the more familiar they are with you, the more they like you.
Why annoyed, you may ask? Well, imagine you want to.. for example fight, but someone controls your movement and does it instead of you. Or goes the other way (aka exploring) instead of the path you've originally chosen.
They certainly would like when you make them stronger. No matter who is on your team, they'll like it (I mean, who wouldn't?)
But.. sometimes, even if they like you, they get tired of always being on the team. Thank you, yes, but they need to rest too. They mostly rest when you're offline, since..time kinda stops there. But when you're online? damnnn they walk and fight so much.. (I fr walk everywhere to find enemies to fight, so uhh, if you're like me, they would be tired and maybe annoyed at it)
I think some characters would even hate you. It doesn't apply to the main trio btw, they'll always like you. The reason some may hate you is that they have so much stuff to do, yet you choose them to walk around and fight all day. They're even supposed to be here! (For example, using Herta when fighting someone in Belobog)
If they could, they would scold you. But sadly game doesn't allow that.
It only appears in normal, self aware circumstances. Aka a normal self aware. Some like you, some hate you. You just kinda exist. (That one strange friend/sibling, y'know?)
But what if they would see you as a God? Something divine? Like in SAGAU?
Well, you're doomed, what can I say?
Everyone would want to be in your team. Oh, poor Gacha system.
They would hate it tbh. While in just self aware some would avoid you on purpose (aka busy characters), here? Where everyone sees you as a divine being? Oh dear..
Imagine several people trying to come through a single door, all at the same time? Yeahhh that's what happens. The standard and limited banner would literally fist fight while trying to get "home" to you. So don't be surprised if nobody comes home, at all.
But some may cooperate, and you may get more 5☆ or 4☆! Basically characters you wanted.
Those on your team would be proud! Mostly if the main trio are still there. Some would be envious of trailblazer. You're always with them, even if they're not on your team.(how could you?!)
Kafka and Silverwofl would be devastated. I'm pretty sure Silverwolf could possibly destroy the gacha system and come home. Only her (and maybe Kafka)
People in Belobog would hate the lore and everything game makes them do what they do. They're so happy they met you! You're here to save them! They don't want to fight you, so please don't be mad at them.
Honestly, if you were to get isekai'ed into hsr, I would recommend to the normal au.
The ones who hate you would just tell you off and never interact again, while your family/friends would hang out with you. Plus you could help a lot in Astral Express!
Maybe get Himeko and Mr.Yang some tea? Or help Pom Pom with whatever he needs?
If you get into the Worshipping Lunatics au..? I feel sorry for you.. You would never rest-
Whether you choose to stay at Astrak Express, or Herta's *I forgot the name* or whatever, they are all ready to wage war against each other. And if you decided to stay somewhere, that means you clearly favor them and their place more! Those who were chosen are happy/smug. While other try to improve their place/copy the place you've chosen to make you reconsider and stay with them.
The amount of gifts.. try to not drown okay?
They might even all agree to keep you in one place. Lock you in there and hope you won't be mad at them.
That's all for now
(Gotta work on reqs now or in the morning, they're still open btw)
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luciddownloading · 5 months
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Astrology Observations: Scorpio Edition ☠️
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🦂In doing these observations, I like breaking down the differences between the Sun, Moon and Rising in a sign. With Scorpio, I look at each as the different elements of a crime scene.
(These are analogies/metaphors, btw. Please don't take this literally)
Scorpio Rising is like the detective. They are investigators, obsessive thinkers, and will dig and dig until they find the info they need. It is very hard to hide around them because they will ask questions, get in your head, and figure out your motives. Most people don't know what they're doing and the extent of their manipulation. But, like the detective, this skill can be used for good.
Scorpio Sun is the murder victim. And, hold on, I am not saying they are weak or powerless. It's more so that the metaphorical "deaths" they have to endure end up shaping who they are. And, like a murder victim, they become very well-known for how they "died", whether it was through heartbreak, betrayal, career/financial loss, mental health struggles/breakdowns, etc. But, the good thing is that they learn that any kind of death is only a transformation.
Scorpio Moon is the killer. As nice and charming as this person may appear (and genuinely be), there is a fierce, sometimes even ruthless instinct within. It's just about learning how to destroy what needs to be killed off, in a positive/constructive sense. But, heaven help those who fuck around and find out. Like a killer, they can be both vaguely intimidating but also the last person you'd expect. Their dark or ferocious side can catch people off guard and that intensity is not only unmatched but can rage out of control if not managed.
(All three placements have a little of each archetype in them but each displays these respective energies the most)
🦂 People with Scorpio placements = love of horror movies. Most of the time, anyway. Especially Scorpio Sun, Moon or Rising. This obsession may begin young and even extend to a fascination with true crime. This is my Moon sign and I loved horror and serial killer documentaries so much growing up that I got side-eyed a few times lol. (But, now, of course, that's become trendy)
🦂 Scorpio Venus people are not necessarily the die-hard, super-serious, "I love you so I must breathe your oxygen" relationship types that they're made out to be. Some of them channel a lot of that intensity into the sexual part of relationships while remaining casual or emotionally unavailable otherwise. So, this placement can be as much of a player or serial dater as anyone. That just may not exactly be how they want to act deep down.
🦂 Those with Mercury in Scorpio usually have some skill with divination, whether or not they are tapped into it. They could make excellent astrologers or Tarot readers. Some of them are naturally good at spell work, as well, or could be skilled mediums or channelers.
🦂 There are two types of Scorpio Risings: 1) the ones who give you witchy or sexy vampire vibes (and who may identify with either archetype) 2) the ones who seem like adorable, harmless elfin/fae beings who are much more powerful than they initially appear.
🦂 Scorpio people look great in all black and this isn't limited to the Venus or Rising sign. It is a power move of sorts and a way to honor one's shadow self (which every self-respecting Scorpio person will thrive on). Also, try black boots, ultra-high heels for those who wear them, and anything sheer like mesh or lace.
🦂 Scorpio Moon people are either very naturally seductive/erotic/alluring (even if they don't try or aren't aware of it) or has the sex appeal of a bowl of mashed potatoes, even though they may try very hard to be sexy. Sexiness can vary with Scorpio people and does tend to exist in extremes. But, since the Moon is what comes instinctively, this is truest for them. They either have it or they don't.
🦂 Scorpio Mars people can be very, VERY petty. This is the lower expression of it. The evolved ones will have a past of vindictive behavior or holding ridiculous grudges but learn to rise above that. And I mean ridiculous grudges. Like, "you ate the last slice of pizza that I wanted two years ago and I haven't forgotten it".
🦂 Scorpio Suns and daddy issues go together like peanut butter and jelly. In most cases, either the father figure walks out on them or dies during their upbringing or they just have a super-complicated relationship.
🦂 It's hard to find a sign that is more proud of their sign than Scorpio. Virgo's may outdo them (because so many Virgos LOVE telling you they're a Virgo lol) but they're up there. This extends to the Moons and Risings, as well. They are quite likely to get a tattoo of the Scorpio symbol or a scorpion or phoenix or eagle.
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nothing serious.
professor! anakin skywalker.
a/n: hiii! so, @fuckmyskywalker came up with the idea for this concept, and I've decided to write my own fic on it! LOVEE me some starwars boy. But put him in a SUIT?? drool worthyyy.
tw!: smut. lots of smut. ahem. p in v sex, sort of breeding kink? it's small but it's there. use of the name pet!! unprotected sex! do not attempt! dumification kink? also miniscule but there. big big sir kink. Anakin loves asserting the fact that he's the top here.
Disclaimer: 18+ only please! I'm not responsible for the media you consume as an adolescent!
description: Attending the most sought after university definitely was the best decision you'd made regarding your college career, but one perverted professor almost makes you want drop out entirely. Anakin Skywalker, was in no short terms, egotistical and a hard-ass. At least that's what you knew, so why is he asking to see you after class?
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Ah, Corscuscant University. One of the most popular STEM universities in the country. The same STEM university you attended. Being a biology major, it was a no brainer for you come here. When you arrived as a freshman Corscuscant felt like your dream school, but like every dream, reality had set in. Your painful reality was Anakin Skywalker; your math professor. Professor Skywalker was one of, if not the most attractive man you had ever seen. He knew he was good looking, too. Almost every person in school had a crush on him, one of those people being you. That's not to say you didn't find him annoying as hell, but you could appreciate a good complexion when you saw one. Despite his good looks, it didn't change the fact that Anakin Skywalker was an egotistical hard ass, whose courses were next to impossible.
It was easy to ignore his big mouth and jabs at any poor soul unfortunate enough to get a question wrong in the beginning, focusing on your studies and logarithmic equations. However, as the class began to get more difficult, your counselor started suggesting attending his after school lessons. Something you couldn't be bribed to attend. But alas, hell hath no fury like a college counselor.
The good thing about Anakin's tutoring is that it's only on Fridays. The bad thing, is that it's a ghost town most days. if he's lucky, Anakin might get 2 or 3 students. So by the second semester, it became just you and him.
Anakin Skywalker was now aware of your existence. He was aware you sucked at math, and he was probably aware of your attraction to college professors who made even Pythagoras hate math. So now here the two of you were.
Just earlier that morning, you'd been notified that the tutoring had been canceled, so your plans for the evening were to go home and sleep. But, before you can walk out of the classroom, Professor Skywalker calls your name. Leaning against his chair, he looks at you piercingly. "Come to my office as soon as possible. We need to discuss your grade in my class."
"Yes professor. " You stuttered, sending a questioning glance to your friend. You walked towards Anakin's office, knowing he'd already be in the room. You hesitated to enter, dreading whatever miserable information he had to bestow upon you, in private. You noticed while peering into the room that he's got a paper in his hand. 'please don't be mine,' you pray.
Once you entered, you moved to stand in front of his desk. "Are you free to stay awhile? I have some questions about your last exam." He says, seeming relaxed. You DID have plans, no, you were not free. Ugh. You guess you can't deny your teacher, so you nod politely. "Great to hear." He says, motioning for you to walk around the desk.
Anakin rolls out his seat, and moves to stand. Now standing in his personal bubble, per his suggestion, you fidget with your hands. "So, what about my exam? Did I fail it, sir?" You start to get worried. "No, no, nothing like that. You actually made top of the class once I graded it." Anakin praised. "I'd actually like to offer you some extra credit."
Anakin motioned for you to take a seat on top of his desk. "What kind of credit?" You asked, now level eye level with his chin. "Just some extra course work and a few more sessions in the week." Anakin shrugged, almost distracted. You hesitated, "I suppose I can, uhm, do that." Anakin smiled at your stutter. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted it to meet his eyes. "You're certainly obedient. I like that." You felt your brain screech to a halt. "Excuse me, what?"
Is Professor Skywalker hitting on you? This has to be a dream. You look up at him, and lo and behold, he's staring right back. He looks hungry, like you're a delicious piece of meat. "You behave when and how i tell you to. Has anyone ever told you that's attractive?" Anakin clarifies, placing both of his hands on desk, trapping you under him. You bristle at his statement. "Sir! that's inappropriate!" Anakin just laughs, and leans in. He says, quietly, "That's alright, pet. It's only inappropriate if someone finds out. I don't intend on telling a soul."
You feel your nose subconsciously scrunch up in confusion. "Pet?" Where did that come from? "You're my little teacher's pet, aren't you? It'll be our little secret." Anakin places one hand on your thigh, the other further along the desk to prop himself up. You can feel his hand wander to your hip, and you're not sure you want to stop him. You didn't know someone's hands could feel that good, with his feather like movements. You're about to let him continue, until you remind yourself that you didn't lock his door. Anyone could walk in.
"Wait, not here. Someone will see." You try to push Anakin away, but he grabs your wrist to restrain you, gently. "Yes here. I can't stop myself." Anakin ducks his head below your chin, and places butterfly kisses along your throat. You hold it in, but you want to moan at his touch. Anakin pulls away, "I'm going to give you your first extra credit assignment. Answer these 3 questions."
You try to focus on his words and not the pooling heat between your legs. "Yes sir." You're pretty sure Anakin noticed you squeezing your thighs together like no tomorrow, and he's just saying these things to rile you up. He quietly moans at your obedience. "Good girl, keeping doing that." You look at him, "What, calling you sir?"
Anakin nods, giving your hip a squeeze. "Yeah, baby. It means you know who's in charge here."
Clearing his throat, Anakin begins. "Now, question one. are you aware of how tempting your body has been to me?" You can feel your cheeks lighting on fire. He's certainly been bold. "N-no sir."
"That's okay, beauty, I'll show you. Question two: will you let me kiss you?"
Oh fuck. You knew that was coming. Oh well, you only live once. "Yes sir." As soon as the words left your lips, Anakin had cupped your cheek, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Anakin was a good kisser. You'd figured that was probably true a while ago, but now? To feel him? It was overwhelming. He pushed against your mouth, using one hand to lift your leg against his hip. Using the new angle, Anakin deepened the kiss causing you both to moan against each other.
You can feel Anakin get more and more aggressive in the kiss, to the point he's pushing the desk a little. You pull away from him for a moment, causing him to chase your lips. "Anakin.." You start, but he cuts you off with a growl. "Who, pet?" You should've expected that one. "You, sir. You're pushing the desk apart." You correct yourself quietly, murmuring your concerns into his ear. Anakin frowns in thought before donning a sultry grin. "I've got a better place for us to continue, dear pet." Before you can question him, Anakin wraps your legs around his waist and takes your mouth in a kiss. He lifts you from the desk before walking towards the couch in the corner of his office.
You yelp as Anakin gently throws you onto it, and you're once again locking lips.
"Mm, sir.." You moaned into his mouth, feeling him crawl on top of you. Anakin smiles, looking down at such a pretty sight. "Such a good girl, pet. You gonna spread f'me?" Anakin tapped your thighs, and you pulled them apart at his request. Anakin settled himself between your legs. "For the last question, pet," Anakin pulls up your skirt and hooks his fingers into the hem of your underwear. "How badly do you want me to fuck you?" Feeling your heart speed up, you replied shaking, "So badly, sir. Please."
"Good girl. you've earned yourself an A+." He rasps, sitting up and undoing his belt. Craning your head, you watch as Anakin unzips his trousers. You almost gasp when he pulls out his dick. You're not even sure you can take him, with how large he is. "It's alright, pet, no need to look scared." Anakin cooed, kissing your jaw. He lifted up your skirt, and pulled on the hem of your underwear. Discarding them, you were now bare for his eyes to see. "We'll go slow, baby." Anakin reassured you, lining himself up with your entrance. Gently as Anakin could be, he pushed into you. Whimpering, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was both painful and overwhelming, and you instinctually pushed at his chest. "Relax, little pet, relax." Anakin grunted, already being squeezed like a balloon waiting to be popped. Anakin finally bottomed out, after what felt like forever. It felt so good. "Tell me when, darling." Anakin refused to move until you gave him a sign. Taking several deep breaths, you nodded. "No, pet. give me words. Use them, baby."
"Please, sir."
"Please what, my girl?"
You knew Anakin was getting impatient, but you were so overwhelmed with pleasure it was hard to form words. You him growl in your ear. Feeling his hand touch your soft flesh, Anakin gripped your waist and moved without warning, "I'm not going to wait anymore, little pet." You couldn't help but let out a guttural moan. Holy shit. He was so big, and you've never felt so filled in your life. "Sir..!" You cried, pulling him down and kissing him. Anakin begins to kiss you passionately, pressing you into the sofa. His mouth meets yours in a loving and desperate kiss as he starts to move faster, causing your loud whining to be muffled. If you weren't blissed out, you'd die of embarrassment at the lewd noises the two of you created. Anakin, on the other hand, loved it. Feeling him speed up, you pulled away from his mouth and almost screamed. You knew you were close, and you told him so. "Sir, please! Close, close, please.. mm," You were practically crying from how good he felt. "I know pet, I know." Anakin replied, grunting when he felt you squeeze him harder. "God, keep squeezing and I'm gonna burst, baby, fuck."
Hooking his hands under your thighs, Anakin lifted them onto his shoulders, pressing you in half. The new angle made your insides burst with pleasure, making you scream. "C'mon pet, you can do it." Anakin encouraged, hitting all the right spots harder. "Cum for me baby, cum all over my dick, yeah?" His words sent shivers through your spine, and your eyes rolled. It was too much. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you finished with a moan.
However, Anakin didn't stop. Despite your release, Anakin moved even faster. "No, no, sir! I can't!" You cried, already overstimulated to high heaven. "Don't be selfish pet, i know you can do it," Tightening his grip on your thighs, Anakin grunted over, and over, and over with every thrust. "Don't want my cum, baby? huh? Don't want your teacher to fill you up till you're full?"
Too fucked out to use your brain to respond, you squeezed around him again. It was too much for you, and now, the last straw for him. Letting out an animalistic growl, Anakin buried himself as far in you as he could, bottoming out fully. Your tummy felt so warm, being painted with his load for what felt like forever to you.
He collapses on top of you, panting softly. "Such a good girl f'me, baby. M'so proud of you." He coos at you, still out of breath from the intensity of the moment. After a few seconds, Anakin lifts his head and chuckles. "Poor thing, too dumb to respond to me?" He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. You whine at his teasing, pouting at him. He leans to your ear and whispers, "Don't be shy, baby. You did so good f'me."
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