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#staring at my laptop all day for work is the worst
elisespage · 9 days
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in which your constant nagging for a cat finally makes jude give in.
+
“but jude…” you whined, trailing off to try and see if his usual reaction has changed from his annoyed face to his ‘i’m giving in’ one.
a deep sigh left his lips as he looked up from his phone, being met with your puppy dog eyes. god he’d love to just say yes and give in. but a cat wouldn’t be such a good idea right now.
the pair of you had only moved into your madrid apartment a couple of weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure pets were allowed.
every night, jude would listen to your rambling about cats and how independent they were. countless videos were being sent to him of cats doing funny things and he nearly did give in when you shown him a litter of kittens that were being given away.
“how many times, y/n? no cats.”
he tried to sound stern but he let a little out when you slumped back into the bed, a frown on your face. “but did you know that seventy percent of a cats life is just sleeping? that means hardly any work.”
he turned his phone off and the bedside light, getting under the covers with you. “thanks for the information y/n, but i’m still saying no.”
“you’re no fun,” you huffed, turning around to face the opposite way. jude wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your neck a couple of times. he hated it when you were mad at him.
it wasn’t like you were mad at him. you were mad at the fact you couldn’t get a cat, and he was a big part in why you couldn’t. maybe you were.
“come on. listen, if you give me a kiss maybe i can ask the building manager-”
jude was cut off by your abrupt movement, your lips meeting his and arms wrapping tightly around him. “have i ever told you that i love you?”
“several times a day.”
+
when your alarm went off to wake up for work, jude was nowhere to be found. you just assumed that he had gone to training early so you went to work like everything was normal, the conversation from last night being pushed to the back of your mind.
after a long day of work the only thing on your mind was relaxing in the bath with a glass of wine. but that idea was also pushed to the back of your mind when you opened the front door.
jude stood in the middle of the living room, a box at his feet and a confused look on etched all over him.
“whats up, buttercup?” you asked, dropping your keys into the bowl and joining his side to look st the various boxes at his feet.
“okay, you can’t freak out. well you can, but you can’t scream.”
now your confusion was evident and you were starting to think the worst until the sound of small feet were heard. you looked down and saw the most gorgeous tabby cat staring back up at you and you gasped.
“you didn’t!” you screeched, picking the cat up and kissing it all over. it licked your face and then wriggled so you put it down. “oh my god, jude!”
you figured all the boxes were cat supplies and your boyfriend kneeled on the ground, opening the biggest box which turned out to be a cat scratching post. “i thought maybe you’d like to help me. i can’t even understand the stupid instructions.”
the pair of you spent the next hour sorting out the food bowls, the scratching post and even all the little toys jude had bought for her.
“what are we going to call her?” you wondered later when you were snuggled up on the couch, the cat lay on your lap with her arms stretched and resting on your chest.
he paused the movie and grabbed the laptop, googling cat names. “peach? coco? muffin?”
“i kind of like coco. but that’s too girly,” you sighed, staring down at the cat with ideas swirling in your mind. “how about friday?”
you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed at the unusual name that jude had come up with. “why friday?”
“because it’s friday. also, we met on a friday. and we had our first date on fridays. and we also got this place on a friday.”
fridays seemed to always pop up in your life, always at important times as well. so friday seemed to work well.
“friday. i love it,” you giggled, pecking jude on the lips. “i love you too.”
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gatitties · 1 year
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Care and comfort
─ Yandere!bonten x motherly!reader (platonic)
─ Summary: you were just trying to help someone and you ended up being the obsession of a criminal organization
─ Warnings: obsession, stalking, toxic behaviors, kidnapping, slight mention of drugs and stuff related
Part two / Part three / Part four / Part five
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You turned on the light in your kitchen, almost tripping over one of the stools because your eyes were still half closed, you had fallen asleep correcting the last report that the newspaper where you worked had sent you. You had noticed that you hadn't even had dinner before, so you made a quick meal before heading back to work, but before you could touch your laptop you heard a crash at the front door, as if someone had collapsed and slammed against it.
It's not that you lived in one of the worst areas of the city, but it was strange that something happened in the wee hours of the morning, you walked slowly, opening the door, or trying to, because the body of a man was blocking the entrance, a few minutes of struggle was enough for the unconscious body to fall to the other side, leaving you to open the door completely and contemplate the man.
He had one of those mullets that were fashionable among young people, several earrings, some scars on his mouth and stains of what appeared to be vomit and blood, okay, you did not want to interfere with anyone who seemed to be a drug addict, but on second thought, it was better to help the man than to have to give statements to the police as to why there was a dead body at your door.
You dragged him home and laid him on the couch, laying him on his side so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit if he ever did, though after further scanning you decided he needed a good shower. You did not feel self-conscious in doing this job, you are of an age and you have worked in many things, among them you had a position taking care of the elderly, all kinds of care being more specific, so no, you did not feel uncomfortable having to wash this man.
You changed his clothes and put his striped suit in the wash, leaving him back on the sofa, you continued with your work, reading and quickly correcting the errors you found, the night passed quite quickly and you fell asleep once you were completely done your work, sending it to the head of the newspaper.
The next morning you woke up with a gun pointed at your temple and that man's pretty eyes staring back at you, good way to start the day indeed.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Are you young people these days so ungrateful? It was you who passed out on the doorstep of my house at two in the morning."
He lowered the gun, seeming to remember some parts of his night, he sat still a little bewildered and with his head elsewhere because of the drugs taken yesterday, he looked at you in silence now noticing his change of clothes as well as the smell of his hair, it was not the smell of his usual shampoo.
"Did you…?"
"Yes, oh, don't be ashamed, it's been a long time since I stopped being interested in that kind of thing, at a certain age the only thing one looks for is economic stability and peace of mind, are you going to stay for lunch?"
He blinked contemplating your calm form, he didn't know if he was still under the pressure of narcotics, but he didn't reject your proposal, Sanzu was anything but embarrassing, however he felt like a little boy next to you being cared for by the mother he never had.
For your part, he was not the first brat you helped, you had married friends, with grown children or adolescents who did not stop getting into small problems, you acted like the aunt who drinks wine and criticizes everyone at family gatherings, for your attitude, they found it easier to access you when they had problems they didn't want your friends ─their moms─ to know about, you always had their backs unless it was something that was detrimental to their health, then you wouldn't hesitate to call your friends to give their children a lecture, even as adults.
That same attitude was the one that made Sanzu visit you more often than he would like to admit, although most of the times he left scolded for coming home drunk or drugged, you never closed the door on him, how could you? You weren't heartless enough to leave him lying in the street when he came desperately asking for help with some of his hallucinations.
Your kindness led him to an obsession towards you, you were like his little lifeboat, his conscious part about all the madness in which he was involved, he began to watch you from afar, observing your interactions with strangers and friends, it bothered him, it bothered him that you were just as kind to others as you were to him, he wanted all your attention just for him. He was also worried about you, he had seen the worst part of the rotten world in which he lived, someone with a soft heart like you could not survive against the predators of this society.
Of course, Bonten executives were not stupid, usually most of them lived in the headquarters, they had private properties where they spent a few days or weeks, but most of the time they were in that headquarter, especially Sanzu, that's why they started to noticing his absence more and more, it's not like he had to explain himself to anyone ─except if Mikey asked him to─ but his behavior was strange, didn't he arrive drugged? It seemed like a bad joke, clothes without a bloodstain? he was definitely doing something outside their radar.
Not that the others cared much, but the Haitani brothers were a bit nosy, like gossips who want to know why their partner seems happier when he comes back in the morning after a night of 'fun'. They discussed it a couple of times with the others when Sanzu wasn't around, and they all agreed that his behavior was unusual, so they began to investigate what he did in his leisure.
This led to an ordinary person like you being watched by two executives of the largest criminal organization in the country. At first they thought that you were a whore with whom he had fallen in love, but investigating more about you, they discovered that you were a lady with an established daily life, there was nothing about you that stood out and yet you seemed so interesting.
"Sanzu please, I need to finish correcting this report, I promise you that later you can have all the hugs you want."
"No."
He tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, you were trying to do your job but Sanzu found your hugs too comforting after you once found him crying ─from being drugged─, killing people leaves obstacles in any person and as much as he loved it, certain deaths of innocent people always ended up flying over his thoughts like ghosts that tormented him from time to time.
The sound of the doorbell made you stop typing, moving the man slightly away to go to open, you were not expecting a visitor which was strange to you, Sanzu felt a chill when you opened the door, meeting the eyes of the youngest of the Haitani directly, he got up quickly without even letting you ask what those guys wanted, he pulled you back before Ran could drag you with him.
"What the fuck are you two doing here?"
"Make sure you don't have too much fun, are you so in love that you forget the meetings?"
They started a little discussion while you looked blankly, you and Rindou looked at each other in silence while the other two talked, you greeted with a brief nod, thinking they were Sanzu's coworkers.
Luckily just when the discussion was getting more heated, a 'ding' coming from the oven threw everyone off concentration, taking advantage of this you got out of the man's strong grip, walking towards the kitchen to see that the cookies you had been working on before were ready.
"There are plenty of cookies for everyone, Sanzu you can invite your friends."
"They are not my friends!"
"That's very kind of you, we'd love to meet our friend's friend."
So you ended up having lunch with the three men in an awkward silence between them, due to the tension of which you preferred not to take into account, Ran and Rindou were quite nice and understood that you were not a love interest, nor did you want it, nor did you seek it. Alarm bells of boys without a mother figure going off again, of course you caught their interest more than before, they knew your background but not your personality, and they ended up falling into that obsession towards you, as if there was something that made them gravitate towards you, was it because of your simplicity? for your kind words? They didn't know it, but they were jealous that Sanzu could snuggle up against you and they would have to keep more of their distance.
Now you had three of Bonten's executives constantly visiting your house, whether it was asking you for small favors or advice on nonsense to asking you to make them cookies or food in general, they just desperately wanted your attention, like babies crying out for their mother.
This cycle of obsession only made the others begin to suspect that they were up to something, whether it was harmful to Bonten or not, Takeomi was the first to notice, Kokonoi the same, he noticed how the brothers spent a certain amount of money, which they didn't used to do that often, followed by Kakucho, Mochizuki and lastly Mikey.
So it led you to be kidnapped by Mochi after doing enough research on you, because they didn't take much notice of it at first when the brothers first noticed. You were tied hand and foot, a blindfold was removed after consciousness returned to you, you found yourself face to face with a man with immense dark circles and eyes full of lifeless, on his right side another man with a large scar on his face, on his left side another man with a small scar on his left eye.
You felt something cold touching your temple, again you had a gun pointed at you, held by the same boy who had kidnapped you, you turned your head also noticing another man with long white hair.
"Who are you and why do you have my executives after you?"
"Executives…?" you looked at everyone carefully, connecting the dots when you saw their tattoos "Oh- so that's why they never wanted to tell me what they worked for… are you some kind of organization? Like arms smuggling, money laundering or something?"
You took the situation calmly, that your life was hanging by a thread right now was not one of your biggest concerns, you had lived a full and happy life up to now, you had no regrets, you were mature enough to understand the point at which you were, the more the years go by, the less afraid you are of the things that used to terrify you when you were young.
"GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF MY MOTHER!"
Everyone was surprised to see how Sanzu entered kicking Mochizuki so that the weapon flew out of his hands, away from you, the Haitani brothers followed closely untying you quickly while all those men had a discussion of looks, the dense silence was broken by your giggle, you were trying to control yourself as much as you could but it was impossible.
"My God, Sanzu, you just called me mom!?"
The boy's face was completely dyed in pink tones, all the attention was now focused on you while you let out a laugh at the slip that your child had, something made the hearts of others clench in pain when they heard your laugh, no matter how bad it sounded, whether it was asthmatic, uproarious, or silent laughter, it was like real music to the ears of all the executives at Bonten, including the leader. As if you had flipped a switch in the mind of their rotten minds, they now had a new interest in you, as if you had further triggered an obsession you were unaware of with the first three you met.
They began to understand why those three felt attracted to you, it was as if your mere presence was intoxicating for them, as if just listening to you or looking at you calmed their broken hearts, many alarms from boys without a mother figure, of course that was a triggering reason, all these men longed for that kind of love that they could hardly experience.
Now you had the criminal organization after you, not in a bad way, more like a bunch of men acting childishly because of your limited attention. One thing they were clear about without the need to speak, you were not going to leave their sight for a single moment from now on.
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suashii · 2 months
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— 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎, 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 ౨ৎ
suna rintaro x reader. 1.6k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ college au ノ suna and reader are roommates ノ jealousy ofc :3 ノ + atsumu appearance !
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moving in with suna was a bad idea.
he’s not a bad roommate. sure, he takes extra long showers and uses up all the hot water at least once a week and you’ve had to remind him to wash his dishes every now and then, but he’s not a bad roommate.
your frustration that comes with being suna’s roommate has less to do with him and more to do with the feelings you’ve been hellbent on keeping a secret ever since they became known to you a few weeks ago.
that much is getting harder these days with midterms being upon you. there’s been a girl over the apartment—some chick suna was paired with to work on a presentation. that fact alone doesn’t bother you; suna was kind enough to ask before inviting her over. she’s where your problem lies.
she’s shameless, really. always laughs a little too loud at jokes that aren’t that funny and always sits a little too close to suna when you’re positive the coffee table they’re working at isn’t that small. and the worst part is that suna is oblivious to it all.
even now he’s blissfully ignorant of the way she’s not so discreetly flirting with him. she’s supposed to be packing up to leave but, like she’s had some sort of life-changing revelation, she stops in her tracks and turns to suna, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you have a volleyball game this week, right?”
from the kitchen counter, you roll your eyes and stuff another spoonful of rice into your mouth. you wouldn’t normally eat in the kitchen while she was here but one too many spills by your laptop and the inevitable crumbs left in your bed have kept you from taking your meals back to your room. you’re starting to think a sticky keyboard or the unpleasant feel of tiny pieces of food against your skin would be preferable to whatever you’re about to witness.
suna nods and she pulls her hand away to clap. “perfect! i’ll be there to cheer you on!”
her exaggerated excitement causes you to snort, earning the attention of both of them. there’s a curious expression on suna’s face but the girl is all but staring daggers at you like you popped her bubble of joy and ruined the moment. you’re tempted to laugh.
“sorry, saw something funny on my phone,” you lie, shooting the two of them a smile before turning around to wash your dishes.
you dawdle at the sink until you hear the front door close. suna appears as you’re drying your hands and you spare him a glance, wondering if he’ll bring up your strange behavior. part of you hopes he does—maybe then you could open his eyes, finally make him privy to that girl’s blatant attraction to him.
he doesn’t question it, though. instead, he asks, “can i see what you were laughing at?”
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
“you don’t get it, ‘tsumu, she’s actually the worst,” you tell him, dramatically dropping your head on his shoulder.
“why don’t you just leave when you know she’s coming over?”
your eyes cut over to atsumu, an unsavory frown tugging at your lips due to his outrageous suggestion. you can’t believe your best friend would side with her. “why should i? i’m the one who lives here.”
“because, clearly, it’s bothering you.” he isn’t the least bit apologetic for his outlandish recommendation. “look, it’s either that or you come out and tell suna that you like him. i’m tired of hearing you bitch and moan every time i’m here. we’re supposed to be watching them do that.” atsumu points to the screen of your laptop that’s playing some trashy reality show the two of you are hooked on.
you click your tongue at his blunt response, lifting your head from his shoulder. maybe he’s right—complaining won’t get you anywhere, but you’re too proud to tell him so. “hey. this is the thanks i get for putting up with your relationship problems? you ungrateful brat.”
you flick his forehead which elicits a shocked gasp from the blonde. a victorious grin is in the process of making its way to your lips when the plush of one of the many stuffed animals you keep in your room hits your cheek. your jaw drops in surprise at atsumu’s courageous counter.
“i’m going to kill you.”
you aren’t usually one for using your precious plushies as a weapon but any one within your reach is promptly launched at the setter. he dodges some and is whacked by others, all while theatrically screeching for you to stop. you’ve still got some steam left by the time you run out of ammunition and atsumu can tell. he reaches out, taking your wrists in his hands to prevent you from doing anything.
“wait, i’m sorry,” he breathes out, strands of messy hair falling in front of his face. “truce?”
you’re considering whether or not you want to take him up on his offer when your door swings open. suna’s on the other side.
his eyes scan the room, taking in the mess of colorful stuffed animals strewn across the space before they land on you. not you, but the way atsumu’s holding you. something about it makes his jaw tighten.
“hey.” your voice, breathier than usual, convinces suna to meet your eye. “what’s up?”
the scene he walked in on almost made him forget why he’d come by in the first place. “i’m ordering food. do you want anything?”
you hum in contemplation and then smile. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”
he nods, readying to close the door. “i’ll call you when it’s here.”
the click of the door shutting sounds over the indiscernible voices coming from your laptop. taking your hands back from atsumu, you straighten out your clothes as thoughts of suna cross your mind. he usually finds any way to make a conversation drag, lingering in your doorway even when you’ve told him to leave so you can go to sleep.
you’re about to ask atsumu if he caught on to his friend’s abnormal lack of words, but he’s got another idea.
“yeah, thanks, i don’t want anything,” atsumu shouts at the closed door.
forty minutes pass before the episode ends and atsumu takes his leave. you see him out, planning your next viewing party as he puts on his shoes. he whispers something about settling shit with suna before then so he isn’t subject to your fussing the next time he comes around and darts down the hall before your fist can meet his shoulder.
you make a mental note to get back at him when you see him tomorrow as you shut the door and spin on the ball of your foot. from the foyer, you can see suna situated at the coffee table. there are plastic delivery bags on the surface and he seems to have already started eating from his portion.
“what happened to letting me know when the food was here?” you ask, shuffling over to his figure and plopping down on the floor beside him.
through a mouthful of noodles, he replies, “i didn’t want to interrupt.”
you almost scold him for talking with food in his mouth but then his words register. your eyebrows furrow as you split your wooden chopsticks. “interrupt what, exactly?”
it’s petty, he knows, but he can’t ignore the feeling that’s been gnawing at him since he saw atsumu touching you so comfortably. it’s like the image is seared into his eyelids and he’s forced to see it every time he blinks.
“i don’t know.” he flicks a mushroom with his utensil. “just seemed like you two were in the middle of something when i walked in.”
you hum, not paying much mind to his words as you pick up the stir-fry with your chopsticks. the noodles hang right in front of your lips when you respond, “i guess we kind of were.”
suna frowns at your answer. he wanted to hear you say it was nothing so he could kick himself for being so unreasonably bent out of shape. instead, your reply fuels him to ask the question he’d been wondering about for nearly the past hour. “are you and atsumu together?”
“what?” you sputter around your noodles. you want to tell him no but, unlike suna, you aren’t one for talking with your mouth full. your silence, however, only leads suna to keep going.
“i don’t care if you are but you should have told me so i wouldn’t just barge in on-”
“i’m not dating atsumu,” you finally reveal after swallowing your food. you’re not sure what possesses you to say the next part—perhaps you feel the need to really drive your point home—but it comes out speedily. “i like you.”
quiet blankets the room following your declaration. the two of you stare at each other with parted lips, suna’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. his lack of a response makes your heart beat heavily against your chest. it’s loud in your ears and you wonder if he can hear it too.
you breathe out an awkward laugh after a couple more seconds of silence. “look-”
“i like you, too,” suna admits.
“jeez, suna, you should have just said that!” you slap his shoulder, cheeks warming in belated embarrassment. “i thought i was going to have to move out because of one-sided feelings.”
“sorry.” he chuckles, rubbing the spot you had just hit. it didn’t hurt, but it felt different than the ones he had been met with in the past. he could get used to the tingles you leave behind on his skin. “i had to let it set in.”
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thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3
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cinnamo6 · 10 months
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Friendship’s not in the field manual.
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Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!reader
warning(s): angst, no comfort (yet..)
a/n: trying my hand at a new format. Not proofread/probably grammar mistakes
You’re convinced Ghost hates you. Downright despises you.
Sad? Yes. Exasperating? Most Definitely.
Hard to be at the top of your game when you’re convinced your own Lieutenant thrives off your suffering. You were the new bright eyed rookie hacker for 141. Picking up where they fell short in the technical field. And yet somehow Ghost had managed to make you feel incompetent on good days, and just plain miserable on the worst.
You’d long accepted that he’d never like you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother you. Every single attempt to be friends was shot down. At least he wasn’t lying when he said he had a cold heart. It was unbelievably frustrating and you were reaching your limit.
And did.
That day you felt like the world was truly against you. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Waking up feeling just plain awful was a great start for sure. Finally finding the strength to drag yourself to the kitchen only to somehow manage to spill coffee all over yourself and your belongings, tech included. The coffee was hot enough to leave a painful burn, and there was no doubt your laptop was completely destroyed. You tried not to cry on your way to the medbay, you felt pathetic limping to and from. The walk of shame indeed.
After cleaning up the rest of the mess and at least trying to salvage the rest of your belongings that fell victim, you decided a change of clothes would do some good. Your only priority now was to Avoid. Ghost.
The last thing you needed today was his shit.
Normally you could take what he dished out, but today whatever he had in store would most definitely destroy you. Which is exactly why you froze you heard heavy foot steps approach you. You didn’t need to look to know exactly who it was.
“Sergeant.” His tone made you wince.
You’d missed the mandatory meeting. He was really gonna let you have it.
You held your breath in preparation, and stared down at the floor.
Just hold it together and break down later.
“What? Can’t even look at me? Fucking pathetic.”
Hold it together. Hold it together. Hold it togeth-
“Look at me.”
As long as you don’t look him in the eyes you’ll be fine. You can do this. You’ll get out of this in one piece.
“In the eyes, rookie.”
Christ if he wasn’t so damn scary.
You somehow worked up the nerve to finally look at him and met instant regret. His eyes held so much anger, and knowing it was directed at you was terrifying. This man must really, truly, hate you.
You couldn’t stop the tears as soon as they began. You missed the way his eyes widened, even if only by a little bit.
“Why do you hate me?” You sobbed. “I just don’t understand what I’ve done wrong.”
He saw your hands shake as you frantically wiped your eyes, in a hurry to get away from the room, from him.
“Love, I-“ he started, but you had already disappeared.
Oh he fucked up. Big time.
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twilghtkoo · 10 months
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ride: rendezvous [part two] jjk
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“where we going?” “you’ll see.”
summary. you’re having one of the worst days so jungkook takes you to his favorite place
pairings. biker!jungkook x reader (f)
genres/aus. fluff, comfort, s2l, f2l, college au
warnings. slight peek of popular!jk, reader has anxiety, mentions of a panic attack
word count.
notes. this series is in chronological order so this is a bit after their first date!! a scene that i wrote is inspired by a tiktok i saw 🛐 guys i was deadass when i said i keep seeing motorcycle tiktoks on my fyp T__T it was so random but my brain somehow connected it to jungkook, anyway !!! stream still with you and likes/reblogs are appreciated >_<
[ series masterpost | masterlist | taglist ]
you failed.
you failed the test.
you stared at your laptop screen, the big, bold, red colored fifty-nine almost mocking you in a sense. if the nine grew a pair of eyes and a mouth it’d be laughing at you right now.
you don’t get it. you’ve studied for this test, knowing it’d play a big part in your overall grade, and you still managed to flunk it.
tears started to form, blurring your vision, before you remember that you’re in the library that occupy other fellow students that don’t need to see a mental breakdown and a forming anxiety attack. even though they probably would’ve understood. you shut your laptop and shove the electronic inside your bag, standing up to push your chair in to make your way to the exit doors.
jungkook isn’t here with you today. he was working on a project with a couple of his classmates somewhere on campus, you can’t remember his text.
and although you wish you could just dial his number and cry to him, you don’t. no matter how bad your chest is tightening. instead, just taking the bus home and already deciding to have a crying session with your pillows.
-
“see you later jeon.”
jungkook waves one last time to namjoon and taehyung, his classmates, before he heads in the opposite direction. shoving his hands in the front of his jean pockets as he takes his time to walk to the campus’s parking garage.
he can feel the stares of the people who pass by but he ignores them.
he’s reminded of the one girl who’s been on his mind and he pulls his phone out to see if he’s gotten any notifications from you. but there’s none.
that’s strange. he pouts at his screen, only a few notifications being emails from his teachers and some from social media. but they don’t speak out to him the way yours do. he’s familiar with your schedule so he knows you’re out of class already. you usually text him to tell him how your class went and spam his tiktok with a dozen of tiktoks— he watches them all by the way.
before he concerns any further, his phone dings and he freezes.
“oh, jungkook!” a girl shouts from behind him, waving to get his attention. quickly glancing at her before he starts to pick up his pace. is she from one of his classes? he can’t remember.
he gives a tight lipped smile before he starts jogging. “can’t talk right now.”
yn 👑
ur out of class aren’t u, can u come over? ;-;
-
you got home about an hour ago and you still haven’t broke down. the heavy weight on your chest was becoming too much, but why won’t your body let you give out.
you groan out loud, turning over on your bed and clutching your plushie that looks like it’s been through hell and back— you’ve had it since you were a kid, okay— tighter against your chest. hoping it’ll ease the pain in your chest.
the familiar roar of a motorcycle awakens you and you’re quick to hop on your feet and rush to your door.
by the time you open your front door jungkook was just walking towards you.
“hey princess, eager to see me?” he chuckles, brushing back the strands of hair from his forehead with his tatted hand. it’s the same strands that have you itch to brush them yourself. an action that seemed too intimate, you weren’t sure if you could handle that. but you wanted to test the waters.
not trusting what you would say if you opened your mouth so you nod.
“you okay? anything happened today?” he asks while stepping into your home after you told him to come in. it’s not the first he’s been inside your home, your safe space that surrounds colors, photos and a scent that screamed you.
from his questions, the tightening feeling in your chest returned and you wince.
your fists are by your sides, opening and closing.
“i think i’m okay, i don’t know. and yeah, something did happen.” you responded softly. he observes the way your eyes dodge his and lower at his feet. something was definitely clouding your mind.
he sighs. “wanna come with me somewhere? you can tell me when we get there, if you want.”
“where we going?” you ask, as you get yourself comfortable behind him, before circling your arms around him.
he kicks the kickstand off, turning his head with his helmet on. “you’ll see.” revving the throttle as you both head to your destination.
-
“a park,” you giggled. “are you healing your inner child?”
he smirks at you, helping you with your helmet. since your first date, every time you are on his bike he becomes so attentive towards you.
“no, but i thought we could go on the swings and if you’re comfortable enough you can tell me who or what made you sad.”
your eyes dance over to the vacant playground behind him and back up to his eyes that are studying yours.
“you gonna beat up somebody for me?” you joke, but his face remains the same but with amusement behind his orbs.
“yah,” you nudge his side with your finger making him break his tough side, finally breaking out into a smile. the mole under his bottom lip reveals itself and you have to fight yourself to not reach on your tippy toes and kiss the beauty mark.
he gently places a hand on your waist, pulling you along with him. “come on, i’ll push you.” he tells you, leading you to the two swings.
you sit on a swing, holding onto the rusty chains as jungkook gets behind you. the mulch underneath you both crunching from his chunky boots.
“don’t push me too hard.” you tell him, a bit scared.
he lets out a laugh, “i won’t, promise.”
jungkook and you fall into a comfortable silence as he pushes you, careful not to push you too high.
“i failed my test.” you confess, you watch your still feet pass by the scenery blur beneath you.
“and i’m mad at myself because i studied so hard for it yet i managed to fail. god, and i don’t even want to see how much it dropped my grade, i literally almost had a panic attack in the library, but i left, and i wanted to contact you but remembered you were with your classmates so i had plans to cry into my pillow and fall into a pit of self-deprecation—“
jungkook grabs hold onto the swings chains to still you. “woah, woah princess, shhh.” he comes around to crouch down in front of you.
jungkook has never comforted someone, never been in a situation where a person in front of him showed their weakness. but you’re different. the way your voice cracked before he cut you off broke something inside him. it was an act of instinct how he’s crouching in front of you, his hands wrapped around the rusty chains next to your hips. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to console someone but for you he’ll learn today.
“do you want my advice or do you want to be held?” he asks you, his eyes raking over your facial features.
you purse your lips, curling your hands into your thighs before shyly answering, “can you hug me?”
he softly chuckles before straightening his legs, his figure towering over you before he envelopes you in a hug. cradling your head close to his chest.
once you were engulfed in the boy who slowly yet managed to warm up to your heart, you let out small cries. your fingers gripping the denim fabric of his jean jacket.
“you can cry princess, i won’t ever judge you.” he mumbles, his large hand brushing your head.
you don’t want to scare him but those words make you cry harder. like you’ve always wanted to hear those words.
-
you gasp, the palm of your hand is covering your mouth as you turn to jungkook. “let’s play rock, paper, scissors.” you suggest, grinning at him.
you cocks an eyebrow, “for?”
“if i win, i get to take your spot and you have to sit behind me. but if you lose…hm..i don’t know.” you laugh.
“i really like you princess, but i won’t let you ride us to our death.”
did your brain even process his words?
you smack him on the shoulder, he doesn’t even flinch. “no, just to sit. please,” you beg, putting your hands together and poking out your bottom lip and batting your eyelashes.
jungkook observes you with a smirk. do you even know that if you weren’t begging he would have said yes to you. because you affect him in that way.
in a way he’ll do anything for you.
he scoffs, letting out sigh and bringing out his hands out of his pockets. “okay.”
-
“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
you: paper
jungkook: scissors
“two out of three!” you exclaim.
he laughs but accepts it.
“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
you: rock
jungkook: scissors
“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
you: scissors
jungkook: paper
“i won, you lose!” you bring your index and middle finger to cut his imaginary paper that’s his hand before jumping up and down.
he shakes his head. “you win,” he states, taking a step closer and leaning in.
“hop on, loser.” you jog over to his parked bike, throwing your leg over the seat to sit. you lean forward to grab the hand clutches with a big smile on your face.
“vroom, vroom,” you mimic the sound of the bike coming to life in an adorable way that has jungkook turning his head so you don’t see the goofy smile on his face. the way your figure looks tiny on the seat of his usual spot compared to him. your feet can barely even touch the ground.
he reaches in the front of his pant pocket. “let me take a photo of you.” he spoke, you nod giving him permission.
he quickly snaps a few photos of you before he finally makes his way over to you. leaving a mental note to send them to you and to look over them when he gets home. with one hand placed over your hip he manages to sit behind you. his legs are placed a bit uncomfortable but he doesn’t complain, instead he grabs your waist and squeezes it.
you let out a breathy laugh, “we look so silly right now. my feet can’t even touch the ground.” you wiggle your feet in front of you.
“what if i got a bike?” you ask, dipping your toes in the water. you would never get a bike, but you want to see his reaction.
he shakes his head, the wavy strands framing his face swaying left and right. “definitely not. bikes are dangerous, plus princesses can’t ride bikes.” he tries to reason with you.
you pout your lips, “princess peach does.” you mutter.
he scoffs, “babe, this isn’t mario kart silly. and, i enjoy having you as my backpack.”
548 notes · View notes
arabellasleopardcoat · 10 months
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Lamb (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Modern Daemon has bad blowjob etiquette. You think you can teach him a lesson.
Warnings: Smut. Rimming. That’s it. That's the fic. Nah, kidding. Cursing, trapped in an elevator, male masturbation. Casual workplace sexism.
A/N: The last two Sundays I decided to be sweet. But since my finals started, we go back to my scheduled period of being unhinged. And then I started my actual period and hated this so much. So if it sucks, sorry.
He is staring at you. Again.
You never understood the point of glass walls. If you owned the building, you would have them all replaced by real, actual walls. Or at least, you would put blinds on. But you don’t own the building.
The man that does is sitting in the office right across from yours, staring towards you. Daemon Targaryen. Board member of Targaryen’s Industries. Your father and he had been at each other’s throats since you had been a little girl. Otto Hightower and Daemon Targaryen hated each other, it was a fact of life. Him choosing the office right across from yours had been taken as nothing more than a taunt to your father.
But you knew better. Daemon was set on driving you to insanity. You scowled, and he smirked at you, closing his laptop and sliding those damn glasses off his face to look at you unashamedly. He looked starving. Like he wanted to eat you whole.
You didn’t actually know what his position was. It was hard to keep track. He had been appointed by the CEO, your godfather Viserys, to more departments than you could count. First, he had been head of marketing, but your father complained he was using too expensive models that were not on the budget. Then, he had overseen PR, which had been an absolute disaster. After that, he had been placed as the CFTO, only to be demoted a few weeks later. Then he had been… Well, you get the idea.
Daemon waves his hand, shaking you out of your contemplation. You quickly close your mouth, noticing you had your lips slightly parted, as if to speak a word that would never come out. He snickers, no doubt amused at what he perceives as a weakness.
He has done this for a month. You have to give it to him, he is a patient man. Daemon sits there every morning and just looks at you. Takes you in, as you flutter around your office, sometimes on the phone, sometimes typing away on your computer. He never gets bored, or tired of it. How could he, when he is a predator waiting to pounce?
You see, Daemon has been waiting weeks for a moment of weakness. Taunting you, looking at you, making you uncomfortable. And it’s fitting, really. That today of all days is the day you break. There is a storm raging outside, the worst winter Westeros has seen in years. Climate change it’s at fault, or so they say. You only know that you despise Daemon, and you despise thunderstorms.
His eyes. Purple and mischievous, meeting yours at every turn. You despise those. His little sideways smirk. That, too, you hate. You hate his entitled, nepo baby attitude, and you are sick of the taunts about your nephews and sister. His handsome face, and how good he looks in glasses. Annoying. You wish someone would put him in his place.
No one had actually expected you to enter corporate life. You see, as the daughter of an old money family, your father was sure you would do just as Alicent did and become the housewife of a rich man. The thing he didn’t take in consideration was that you had inherited none of your mother’s and Alicent’s grace and soft tempers, and all his cunningness.
You had gone to a good school, and had quickly risen through corporate ranks. You had a strong work ethic, but your last name had helped, too. Being the daughter of Otto Hightower had his perks, especially in university, considering you had been able to not worry about paying student debt and only focus on getting good grades. It also helped that you had a sure work once you had graduated, since Viserys Targaryen was not only your brother-in-law, but you were his goddaughter too. That last fact had made for interesting conversations after he married your older sister.
Still, you dedicated yourself to your work, trying to prove you deserved to be there as much as anyone else. It was a male dominated field, and working in the company where your father was CCO, and your sister married to the owner meant many expected you to be either looking for your own rich husband or to be a lazy nepo baby. Just like Daemon was.
The sound of thunder cast you out of your thoughts. You gave a quick glance at the window, noticing that once more, it was pouring. Not a good omen for your meeting. Thunderstorms always made you slightly uneasy.
Too wired to keep working, you shut down your laptop and slid it inside your purse. You had to be at the meeting room in fifteen minutes, which, in reality, meant you had to leave now. As soon as you stepped outside, however, it seemed destiny had other plans.
“Oi, sweetheart!” Daemon called, and you fantasized of strangling him with one of his expensive ties. You knew, without needing him to speak more, that he was about to taunt you. Still, he owned half the company, you couldn’t risk ignoring him. You turned, heels clicking in the hallway. “Bring me a soy latte, no sugar.”
“Mr. Targaryen, I’m sorry, I’m not your secretary. And I’m going to a meeting.” You answered, very politely, and started walking again, this time towards the elevator. Daemon followed, eyeing your ass with delight. You truly worked those dress pants.
“Come on, Hightower. We both know you are not really busy.” He arrived at the elevator first, to your disgrace, and pressed the button. Daemon leaned his arm on the wall, effectively caging you in. You glared at him, trying not to get distracted by how good he smelled. It’s not that you were attracted to him, surely. He just used an expensive cologne, and those always smelt good. Even your nephew Aegon, who was the sleaziest twenty-something you had ever met, could make them work.
“I am, though.” You ducked under his arm and pressed the button insistently, trying to get the elevator to arrive faster. Nothing happened.
“Doing what? Getting the rest of the board coffee?” Daemon snickered at his joke. You turned to look at him, giving him a disdainful once over that turned… Not so disdainful, when you realized he looked good enough to eat in that suit. Whatever, it’s not like it meant anything. All men did. Still, your cheeks heated up, and your next words came out in a mutter.
“Doing my job, Mister Targaryen. Which does not involve serving coffee.”
“Bah, you are a CDO. A made up position if I saw one.”
“I plan the whole company's social media strategy, and oversee our different digital platforms for purchase and devolution.” You glare even more, but quickly avert your eyes when you realize he is looking at you like he wants to eat you. Again. Gods, does he ever tire? “Hardly a made up position.”
“So you direct a bunch of nerds and interns. Big deal. You can still get me coffee, or send your minions to get me one.” Daemon stepped closer, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. You batted his hands away, shivering. From the cold, obviously. There was a storm raging outside, it had been one of the harshest winters in a while. It didn’t matter that you were wearing thermal clothes underneath your suit, which was wool. You were not affected by Daemon’s touch. At all.
“Here’s a novel idea.” You were just too angry to avoid insulting him. It was not often you resorted to those petty tactics. You left them to your nephews, Aemond and Aegon. “Why don’t you go bring me coffee? I don’t even know what you are doing in our department, you don’t even have Instagram, old man.”
Daemon laughed.
“Who are you calling old man, little girl? I will have you know, I know all about social media.”
“Oh, really?”
Daemon ignored you, typing something on his phone. You weren’t too bothered by it because the elevator finally got there, and you were able to step inside. Your phone pinged, as you did, so your hand went to the pocket of your blazer to check it. Distracted, you didn’t notice Daemon getting into the elevator with you.
Your phone pinged again. You took it out, checking the notification without unlocking it.
@caraxesrider has started following you
@caraxesrider: U were saying?
At that, you looked up and glared at him, startling a little at finding him inside the elevator.
“You know I will have to report this, right?” You quickly started scrolling through his Instagram, which seemed very… Normal. He followed his official one, and the accounts of his family members and plenty of models and fitness girls. In little clothing. What a pig. “You are not allowed to have an Instagram, apart from the official one that is in the hands of the community manager.”
“Says who?”
“Viserys.”
“Real mature, that you call him by his first name now. Tell me, do you think watching your father’s business partner marry your older sister, who is young enough to be her daughter, traumatized you?”
You ignored his taunt, frowning.
“I will report you to the PR department, they were clear you are not allowed to…”
“Not allowed.” He imitated your voice, mockingly. “Not allowed. Will you tell your daddy, little girl?”
“I’m serious.”
“Whatever. Report me. I don’t care, you are such a kiss ass.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It stung a little. You hated being called that. It was not your fault, truly. You liked following the rules. They were there for a reason. And Daemon’s antics usually made the company stock drop because his last name was attached to it. When Daemon got drunk and insulted a server or was spotted at a strip club, it was not him who suffered, but the company as a whole. He was a PR nightmare. His Instagram, no matter how private, would eventually leak and become another.
But whatever you were going to say, be it either a witty retort, or more talk about what you were going to do, died in your throat when the elevator jerked to an abrupt halt.
“What… What..?” You braced against the wall, the phone falling to the floor in your haste to hold on to something.
“Well, at least we still got power…” Daemon pointed towards one of the security cameras. “They will see us and then…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because the lights turned off, leaving you both completely in the dark.
“You jinxed it!” You accused, voice shaking. You were not claustrophobic, nor were you afraid of the dark. What did scare you, however, was that you were trapped in an elevator in a building with no power, which as far as you knew, meant you could plummet to your dead anytime.
“Fuck. Never mind. Are you alright? You sound as if you are about to cry, and I can’t deal with crying people.” Daemon complained, switching on his phone, so he could light up the space. He truly looked concerned. He dropped to his knees to search for your phone and handed it to you.
“I’m fine. Just… Do you think we are safe?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Daemon banged on the wall of the elevator, making you let out a tiny yelp at how it shook.
“Don’t do that!”
“When elevators get less power, they jerk to a stop. It’s safe. It was probably the storm.” Daemon is leaning against the wall and starting to scroll through his phone. Like he is bored. And not, you know, terrified out of his mind because he is hanging from a rope in a metal cubicle caught between floors. The thought makes even more panic bubble up in your throat, so you try to think of something else.
“How do you know that?” You narrow your eyes at him, noticing how the light from his phone lighted up his sharp features, giving them an eerie blue glow.
“I read the OSH mail, every once in a while. That was in the winter’s newsletter.” He drawled, in a bored tone. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Because you look frightened. Come here. I can make you feel better.” And he almost sounds convincing. Were the light on, you would be able to see that he is nearly salivating at the mouth, like the wolf about to pounce on a little lamb.
He has been working on you for a month. Little pretty Hightower, so tightly wound, always doing the right thing. So close to snapping. It’s like you were a present, placed on his lap by Otto himself when he sent him to this godforsaken department.
You gave him a dubious look, but stepped closer.
“Good girl.” Daemon brushed your hair back, gently. You were so close to breaking, he could taste it. “You will be just fine, just match your breathing to mine.
“I’m not having a panic attack, you fool.” You complained, trying to hide the hint of a smile on your lips. What was it about him that was so intoxicating? He had boosted your mood immediately. Oh, you hated feeding his ego.
"Rude.” Daemon muttered. He pulled you into a hug, pressing your bodies close. Chest to chest, hips to hips. Your curves against him, so damn soft, so ready for the taking. “There, there. It will all be fine.”
“I pity your kids.” Still, you melted into the hug regardless. Daemon took the chance to nuzzle your hair, hands trailing dangerously lower on your back.
“You are so rude and cunty. I can see the family resemblance.”
“Shut up, you inbred degenerate.” You mumbled against his throat, still hugging him. “You were chasing after your niece’s skirts not so long ago. And Viserys first wife was your cousin. Your family resemblance is worse.”
“I have not denied it.”
And of course, doing something very foolish, you tilted your head up and kissed him. Blame it on the sexual frustration, or the way he had shown you he had a decent side to him, but you never found him more tempting. Your kiss was heated, all teeth and frustration. If he responded, it would undoubtedly turn things less family friendly.
Daemon, never one to lose the opportunity to have sex, responded in earnest. How could he not, when he had been waiting for a chance to pounce for a month? His lips parted, turning the kiss into something much more dirty. His hands went to your hips, rolling them against his. You moaned.
When you parted, he had his trademark smirk on, full force. The one that said, Daemon Targaryen is a winner. The asshole was getting off on the thought of corrupting a Hightower.
You pressed a few careful kisses down his throat, making sure to not smear your lipstick in places that are noticeable. Daemon smells so good, it makes your knees weak. Fucking expensive cologne.
The arousal doesn't let you think straight, and he loves it. You are desperate for him already, Daemon can tell by the way you clutch and grope at him. And in truth, you are turning into a wanton little thing. Wet from just a few stolen kisses, it’s hard to think of all the reasons why this is wrong.
You want to suck his cock, badly. It’s not often, you are in the right headspace to give head. It gets guys too arrogant. And Daemon is already arrogant enough. The temptation seems too great, until he tries pushing your head down. Talk about a mood killer. It feels as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on top of you, dulling your arousal and making you realize, in fact, you had been about to suck your nemesis off.
Daemon. You had been about to suck Daemon's cock. The guy who orders you to bring him coffee, as if you were some intern and not the head of your section. The guy who despises your family. The guy who calls you and your father kiss asses and Alicent a cunt. Twenty years older, brother to your godfather, man whore, Daemon.
Oh my god, are you turning into Alicent? Fucking men old enough to be your father? Being into Targaryens? Ew. No way. Viserys is nowhere near as appealing as Daemon. But still. What's next, leaving your career to pop out entitled brats?
You stop. Daemon pushes your head down again. It ignites a rage long settled on you.
“Are you seriously pushing my head down?” It comes out like an indignant little yelp. Turns out, the little lamb was not so willing to surrender, Daemon thinks. He has two choices. He can force you down, make you break. Or he can wait it out, lull you into a false sense of comfort, and slowly get you more and more pliant. Yet, he wants to see what you are about to do.
“Is it working?” He sasses, and you turn your head up to glare, even if he can’t see it in the dark elevator. Then, a thought sparkles in your mind. Kiss ass. And here you have someone who needs to be taught a lesson.
A thud. Your knees hitting the floor of the elevator, between Daemon's legs.
“Fuck. Are you really…?” He groans, and you hear another thud. Must be his head against the wall. Good. Perhaps this way, his two brain cells will actually connect.
You unbuckle his belt and open his trousers, the sound loud in the stillness of the elevator. It's done the fast and quick way, not really knowing how much time you have left before someone comes looking for you. You kiss his hipbones, then his thighs. Daemon tangles a hand in your hair, leading you to his cock. You go along with it, but do not touch him where he wants you to.
Instead, you go lower. And a bit further back.
“What are you…?” He asks, confused. Praying to god he showered that morning, you spread him open and lick a stripe over his asshole. His body seizes up, a moan leaving his mouth. “Oh, little girl… You are filthy.”
Daemon is clean, if a bit hairy. The carpet matches the drapes, you will be able to say now. This will be a little secret, between the two of you. When he mocks you in the boardroom, or asks you to get him coffee, you will be able to think of this moment. Not only have you seen him bare, but you intend to take him apart.
For all his posturing, he is only a man. It shows in the way he arches, hips bucking, desperate to find friction. Cock swollen and balls heavy, tip messy with precum. You lick at him, making sure to make the most obscene slurping noises you can, as if his ass was a fine meal. Daemon moans, hand desperately going to grab at the wall to keep himself upright, and you snicker.
“Tell me again how much of a kiss ass I am.” You taunt, curling one of your hands around his gorgeous cock. He is thick and warm in your grip, you can feel him throb in your hand. Your panties feel embarrassingly wet at the pure filth of the act you are performing, but also at the fact Daemon is losing control so steadily.
“You… Oh. Seven Hells. Fuck.” And it's not his fault, really. You have been steadily opening him up with your tongue, nearly french kissing his hole, only to spear your tongue right when he tries to form a coherent sentence. One of your hands keeps him spread for you, and the other is braced on his hip, to avoid him rutting and bucking. Daemon is so pent-up that if you weren't holding him, he would be humping the wall.
His hand tugs at your hair, harshly. You stop.
“What…?” He looks down at you, at the way your face disappears between his thighs, utterly confused. Then, he gives you a menacing growl, as if he were the one in control. “Don't tease, little girl.”
Daemon wears dominance well. It comes with being a Targaryen, you have realized. The entitlement oozes out of his pores. When he gives an order, he is used to at least five people jumping out of their seats to obey him. That gives any man an unstoppable confidence.
But it's not what you want. This is about rewarding politeness, not him acting like an entitled fool. You press down on the sensitive skin behind his balls, right on his perineum. You want him to beg. Not only will it teach him a lesson, but perhaps, get you railed after.
“Beg.” You order, pinching at his thigh.
“You are out of your mind if you think…” Daemon starts, but he quickly shuts up when you place a hand on his cock again. You are not what he was expecting, not what he was expecting at all. He underestimated you. Yet, he cannot say he doesn’t like what he is learning about you.
“Beg.” You insist, teasingly dragging your nails over his sensitive skin. Not enough to hurt, but to warn. Your teeth and mouth are very close to his most delicate parts, and he should remember it. “And be polite about it.”
“You will not get away with this, little girl. I’ll spank your pretty ass red.” Daemon complains, and you snicker. Funny, that he thinks that is a threat. You intend to do much worse to him.
“Oh, really? And who says you will have the chance?” Petty. Realizing you are not going to budge, and he cannot make you, Daemon lifts his hand from your head and pats you on the hair. Not an apology, no. A reward for a particularly clever pet. The game is not over yet. Not when he still has everything to play for. What is losing a battle when he can win the war?
“Please.” At his moan, you start jerking him off. It's a bit rough, without any lubricant, so you offer your hand to him, never stopping your tongue and mouth from working. Daemon catches the hint beautifully, spitting on your open hand. You go back to jerking him. His desperation is a heady thing. It gets you almost high on the thrill of it. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to get some friction on your clit. A shame you cannot touch yourself, with both hands busy.
You wish you could suck his cock, mouth watering with the sight. He has one of the prettiest you've ever seen, all flushed skin and slightly curved in a way you know would feel just right inside of you. And he is smells nice too, which is deeply unfair. Clean, yet still male and musky. Daemon tenses, cock throbbing in your hand. He is very close, about to spill all over you.
The sound of metal scratching against metal makes you jerk and pull away. Divine intervention, you think to yourself, as you get up and start rightening your clothes and hair.
“And where in the Seven Hells you think you are going?” His tone is so short and clipped, you worry he is about to pounce you. His breath is heavy. You bet, if you could see his face, he would be absolutely enraged.
“Are you deaf?” You answer condescendingly. You can hear how his teeth grit against themselves with how hard he must be clenching his jaw. “Bruxism is not sexy, by the way. You will hurt your teeth.”
“Deaf? Bruxism? What the fuck are you talking about? You just ruined my orgasm! I was so close and you, you… ” Daemon truly, truly wants to grab at you and choke you. He underestimated you. Again. Such a fool, he has been. Thinking he is leading his little lamb to the slaughter, and here you are, composed and retouching your lipstick without a care in the world. Oh, next time he gets his hands on you, he is going to make you cry.
“They are opening the door.” You answer, smugly.
“You little shit!” Daemon nearly screams. You cannot hold it any longer, and start laughing. The scratching turns louder, and Daemon hurries to tuck himself back into his suit.
When they finally open the doors, you strut out, not a care in the world. You kiss your father’s cheek, who is standing next to the security guys. Daemon glowers.
“Neither of you thought to text or call someone?” Otto asks, incredulous. He turns to you and checks you over. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“I didn’t hurt your precious little flower, Otto.” Daemon rolls his eyes. Now that he is standing in the light, you can see he looks slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed and standing awkwardly. You nearly smirk. “She is a cunt, just like you. If any, she hurt me.”
Otto glares at him, and places an arm over your shoulder, gently steering you away. He starts talking a mile per second, something about all meetings being adjourned because of the weather and waiting to give you a ride home. Of how worried he was, when you didn’t answer your phone and were not in your office. You hardly listen. Because your phone pings in your hand, another Instagram notification.
@caraxesrider: You will pay for that, little girl.
Your fingers fly over the keyboard in your haste to answer him:
I'm totally reporting you to the PR guys. XOXO.
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serafilms · 4 months
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song 99! up all night (stray kids) + tim drake (spotify wrapped event)
i don't want to go to sleep now, i’ll be making a masterpiece now, i look for caffeine without even realizing, start with a cup
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If there was one thing you loved about your job, it was the all the attractive people who came in for their daily dose of coffee. Not that everyone who drinks coffee is attractive, but you worked at a coffee shop near the local university. A pretty nice, aesthetic but not overly themed coffee shop, with actually good coffee.
Which meant all the students from the university and some other cooler looking adults often populated it. There was always a new beautiful face every day for you to admire. And you loved it.
“Hi, what can I get for you?” You heard your coworker say. You looked up and did a double take. Not because the customer in front of the counter was super hot, or anything (but he probably was, when he didn’t look like total shit). The circles under his eyes weren’t dark, because that implies that they could have been darker, but there was absolutely no way they could’ve been. This guy literally looked like the undead.
“Biggest iced americano you’ve got, no water and eight extra shots.”
Your coworker’s jaw dropped alongside yours, and you watched her splutter for a moment before gathering her composure. Props to her, because your jaw was still on the floor.
“Are you sure? That’s like 600 milligrams of caffeine.”
“More, actually,” you interjected, feeling both eyes turn to you instantly. You tried not to shrink under the customer’s pseudo-vampire-zombie stare. “Our espresso shots have like 75 milligrams each.”
Your coworker nodded fervently and turned to the customer again.
He seemed to ponder this for a moment, and you started feeling hopeful that he would cancel the order and go with a simple iced caramel macchiato until he said, “Actually, make it two. But no ice in the second one. I’ll save it for later.”
You both deflated and your coworker rang up the order as you grabbed two large cups and a pen. “Name?”
“Tim.”
“Alright, ‘Tim.’” You wrote the name on the cups and then went to make his drinks. You sick freak.
‘Tim’ plopped himself over at a table in the corner of the store by the window, and took out a very large laptop.
He looked so focused on his work that it scared you a little bit, so you took your time making the drinks to delay the inevitable handover.
“Why are you going so slow?” The voice of your coworker startled you as she appeared at your side.
“I’m really scared of him,” you whispered.
She surveyed the guy. “Yeah, he might not even hear if you call his name. I think you’re gonna have to go up and give them to him.”
“What?”
“Sorry, babes.”
“You’re the worst.”
She responded by shoving you out from behind the counter.
You felt yourself shaking a little as you walked up to the scary, workaholic, caffeinated man, but you managed to steel yourself enough to place the two cups in front of him, and stammer out a, “Here are your drinks.”
He glanced up at you and managed a polite smile that looked surprisingly human, which made something flurry up in your stomach. Wow, my standards must have really dropped, you thought. Still, if you ignored how terrible he looked, you supposed he wasn’t bad looking at all. His hair only looked slightly unwashed, but it was nicely cut and dark, and his eyes were a nice shade of blue.
“Thanks, uh,” Tim squinted at your name badge and you wondered if his vision was blurry from sleep deprivation, “Y/N.”
You kind of liked the way he said your name, you couldn’t lie, but you had dignity to uphold, and crushing on a walking health hazard didn’t seem like the way to do that. So instead, you nodded and made your way back to the counter.
Tim stayed all throughout the rest of the morning rush, then finished his first coffee around midday and immediately dug into his second. He stayed until your coworker clocked out, giving you an incredulous look as she left, and your next coworker clocked in. Then around the afternoon, he stood up suddenly and went to the counter.
You rushed to be the one to greet him (having failed to explain his story to your other coworker for fear of Tim hearing).
“Hi,” you said, feeling a little silly as the words left your mouth, “what can I get you?”
He looked a little amused and a little more awake (thanks to the establishment’s primo coffee beans, not paid promotion), and you felt the tips of your ears heat up as he took some time to look you up and down. You felt a little self conscious under his gaze as he scanned over your face, and you tucked a bit of loose hair behind your ear. You were seriously into this guy now, oh my god.
That was one downside of working in this job, you got flustered very easily by the attractive people.
“I’m running a little low on coffee,” Tim said, and your eyes flicked towards his table to see two empty cups, “and I was hoping to order another.”
“Another 10 shot death drink?” You felt a little panicky as you soon as you said the words, wondering if you’d overstepped a line and the strangely attractive caffeine addict might attack you. You weren’t supposed to judge customer’s drinks.
Thankfully, he grinned. “Death drink?”
“I mean, it’s almost double the recommended intake of caffeine. And you’ve drank two.”
“Point taken. What do you drink?”
“Oh,” your face turned warm again, “I don’t drink coffee.”
Tim blinked. “You’re a barista.”
“Yeah. I like hot chocolate,” you offered helpfully.
He let out a surprised laugh, then said, “How about this? I’ll order a hot chocolate to go instead, if you write your number on the cup.”
Your eyes widened. The tips of your ears felt hot again and your stomach did another little flutter. He was flirting with you. Oh goodness.
“Okay,” you squeaked. “Deal.”
Tim grinned at you. “Thanks Y/N.”
You rang him up, blushing furiously and hoping he couldn’t tell and rushed to make the drink. It was pretty quick this time around, but you took extra care to add a little extra chocolate powder the way you liked it, and when you were done, you wrote your number on the cup and added a little heart for good measure.
Tim was all packed up and ready to go when you were finished, waiting for you at the pickup area.
“Thanks,” he said again when you handed the cup over, and for once he looked a little bashful. You liked that. “I’ll call you. Or text you.”
“Either is good,” you smiled, face still impossibly hot.
He gave you one last smile as he exited the shop, and you immediately collapsed against the counter when he was gone.
“What was that all about?” Your coworker asked.
You waved him off. “Nothing.”
Oh my god.
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some of y’all have got third eyes or something bc there’s no way this song + character match up happened
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1d1195 · 10 months
Text
Traditional VIII
Well this is the fastest I've ever written. Sorry to leave you hanging on part 7 like that. You can read Traditional here.
I actually wanted this part to be longer but I think I stopped it at a good spot to continue with what I want in the next part but the next part will be a hot minute before it’s posted also part 9 will pick up right where this leaves off.
Warnings: angst (see I remembered the word this time), death mentioned, mourning, (etc.)
“Can I help you?”
Her heart officially shattered. Her head snapped up to the beautiful woman’s voice and she gasped. It felt like someone wrapped their hand around her throat and was squeezing all life out of her. “Oh my God,” how could Niall suggest this? Did he know? Was Harry really that mad at her he would have Niall convince her to come over and see another woman and...? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered breathlessly.
She stopped by the bathroom to take stock of what she looked like as soon as she got to the floor. She put the bag at her feet and stood in front of the sink counter and gripped the edge. The pain in her arm from her slip ached from the bruise forming on her forearm and rippled up the length of her arm as she held onto the counter. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked in the mirror.
Ill. She looked ill. From a green complexion to her red eyes. Her nose was cold and reddening by the second making her look like she had a cold. Bloodshot eyes and overall, just the pallor of a ghost. Her head ached and it was a dumb idea to come back to work. Surely, she would mess up more things. But there wasn’t much else she could do and nowhere else she could really go.
Slowly she closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest in defeat. Then tilted her neck all the way back to the ceiling. “Goddamn it,” she hissed to herself. Grabbing her bag, she walked swiftly back to her office. Maybe she would just sit there and stare at her computer screen until Harry finally fired her.
Niall covered the microphone with his hand. “Darling?” He asked curiously as the door to her office opened. “I’ll call y’back,” he dropped his phone back to the receiver and he hurried to her little space. “I thought—”
“I have no where to go,” she said curtly. Niall didn’t deserve her abrupt tone, but it was the only one she could give. This day was so awful, and she had nowhere to go except the one place she would most assuredly run into at least half of her problems. And that was her best option.
Without a debit card, she had no way to get to the hospital. Her apartment belonged to Harry and right now she didn’t want to be anywhere that was associated with him and the part of her life with him outside company walls. Her laptop was broken and even if she could use it her brain wouldn’t function.
“What are you talking—your apartment?” He reminded her with a question in his voice.
“You mean Harry’s apartment?”
“Love, all things considered, he wouldn’t kick you out or something... he wouldn’t do that to you. Not even on his worst day.”
She shook her head. That’s not what she meant but it was a new fear that twisted her stomach in knots on top of everything else. The tears flooded back into her vision. “I don’t want to talk about any of this Niall. I just want to work so I don’t have to think. If I have even a second to think about anything but work, I’m going to explode, and I can’t do that in front of you—”
“Sure, you can,” he said encouragingly. “Come on,” he said and tugged her out of her seat and into his office. She was too weak to do anything but follow obligingly. He gently guided her to the sofa he had in the room and hurried to his desk. He scribbled something, practically ran back to the door, and smacked the paper on the front before shutting it, blocking out the rest of the floor.
“What’s that?” She asked, curiosity getting the best of her as she looked at her hands in her lap.
“Says ‘Do not disturb. Meeting in progress.’”
“You’re going to get in trouble because of me,” she mumbled.
“Don’t worry, I know the boss pretty well.”
“That’s especially why.”
“He left for the day.”
She blinked. “What?” She asked softly. Other than being sick, Harry didn’t leave early. Ever. Most often he stayed late. The rest he left on time and not a moment sooner.
“He wasn’t feeling himself,” Niall said with a shrug. “Think you know why,” he was so casual about it. Her heart fluttered with worry despite how angry he was with her. How was she supposed to feel? She was in love with him. It didn’t matter. “Go on, then. Please tell me. I’ve been dying to help you as much as you help me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t Niall. You’re my boss—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, love. You’re also the love of my best friend’s life. Would you just talk to me already?” She looked at him as if she was really seeing him for the first time. She couldn’t believe he said that out loud. Now she understood why he put the note up. He wasn’t doing this as her boss. This was Harry’s best friend. If she could dream or hope about a future with Harry, he would be one of her best friends, too. “Pretend I’m not your boss right now.”
She apparently didn’t need much more encouragement for her already bubbling emotions to flow over. Poor Niall took it all in stride. Every word that exploded out of her, all the tears, everything. It wasn’t like when she talked to Harry, and it definitely wasn’t like when she talked to Louis. She told him all about the last twenty-four hours from Hell. She listed every inconvenience, every heartbreak. The debit card, the mean coworker, her dad, how her coffee tasted bad and got everywhere, her laptop was broken, and Louis and Eleanor were her only friends, and she couldn’t even go see them. “And of course, Harry hates me, so I didn’t get to see him last night,” she finished blubbering. She didn’t give lots of details on most anything, just the coworker since that was one of the only ones that she could see him dealing with. Not that she wanted him to.
“To be fair, I think Harry hates me, right now,” he smirked sadly.
“That’s almost worse,” she sniffled.
Niall rolled his eyes as he rubbed her back soothingly with the palm of his hand and watched her dab her eyes with the tissues he got from his desk. “He hates me because he thinks I’m stealing you away because you didn’t tell him any of that. And he’s mad that you didn’t want to tell him. He thought your relationship was evolving and you took like ten steps back without a word. Christ darling, I’m mad you for not saying anything about the harassment. That is not okay. You’re not plain, you’re lovely. She’s just jealous.”
She found it interesting that he agreed with Louis’s assessment. “That’s what Louis said, even before she talked to me.”
Niall shook his head. “She was extremely cruel for no reason, I’m so sorry, love. You did not deserve that.”
She shrugged awkwardly, defeated still. Even getting all of that off her chest. “I am plain. It’s why I was so worried about my... situation with Harry...I don’t...” she took a deep breath. “You’re not my boss right now?” She repeated his statement as a question for reassurance. He shook his head.
“Just a really good friend,” he promised. “I won’t tell Harry,” he added for good measure.
“I don’t even think he’ll want to sleep with me because I’m so ordinary and...” Despite his talk with Niall and that fact they were both aware of her relationship with Harry, she still didn’t like bringing it up. Plus, the untraditional details were lost on her, and she didn’t want to have to explain it to Niall awkwardly.
“Love,” Niall smirked. “Harry is...infatuated with you,” he promised.  “You don’t have to worry about any of that kind of thing. He would—look I don’t want to say it because it sounds like locker room talk and I don’t want you to think he and I talk about you like that. We don’t, I promise—but that’s not something you need to worry about. I’ve never seen him like this about anyone he’s ever been involved with romantically one way or another.”
It made her heart hope, and she hated it. She was prepared for defeat. Harry wouldn’t be in love with her anymore. They wouldn’t get dinner on Mondays or watch movies on Thursdays. There would be no more little sleepovers where he would be sick and accidentally tell her he loved her and forget by morning. She shook her head. “Niall, I...” She swallowed.
“Please tell me you’re in love with him, I’ve been dying for you to say it almost as much as he has.”
The smallest pause. Niall wasn’t her boss. “Of course, I’m in love with him. How can you not be?” She asked, face blushing, as she stared at her hands.
Niall sighed. “You need to tell him what you told me,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, it’s not his problem. I’m a big girl and...I have to handle it.”
“But you don’t have to do it on your own,” he promised her. “I don’t know everything, but I see the way you work, and I know bits and pieces of what Harry is willing to tell me. I know you want to fix every problem that crosses your path for anyone that has one. If you walked into your office and spoke to the you that sits at your computer, how would you help?” He asked. “Would you tell yourself to keep it all bottled up or take a hike and deal with it yourself? Or would you, the person who helps everyone with anything they may need, help you?”
She took a deep breath. The first bit of clarity over the last twelve hours was finally reaching her ears from Niall. “I would help.”
“Then help yourself, darling. Please. Tell Harry.”
She closed her eyes and nodded solemnly. “I think I have to go to the hospital first,” she said to Niall. “But I don’t have a debit card or a ride.”
“Call Harry’s driver. He won’t care. Or I’ll take you, I don’t mind at all,” Niall reached into his wallet and pulled out one of his plastic cards. “I think this has a 25,000-spending limit,” he smirked. “I’d be impressed if you used all of it in one weekend,” he smiled. “Bring it back Monday,” he shrugged. “Definitely use it to get a new laptop when you have time.”
Sucking her lip into her mouth she awkwardly took the card “Please don’t tell Harry about...her...”
He frowned. “Darling,” his tone was so disapproving. It sounded like that was going to be Niall’s first call. Maybe second if he called the bitchy woman down to his office to fire her after the sweet girl left.
“He’ll fire her.”
“As he should! She harassed you!”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Please, Niall,” she whispered.
He sighed bitterly. If even one thing that happened to her over the last day didn’t happen, he wouldn’t have listened. But she had been through enough and he didn’t want to be the cause of any more of her anxiety. Besides, once he was officially forgiven by Harry, he would ask for front row seats to her exit interview. “Okay, darling. I won’t. Go to the hospital. Then you have to go to Harry’s.”
*
Harry’s driver was kind throughout the ride and didn’t ask her a single question about why she needed to go to a hospital. In fact, other than asking if she wanted to listen to a certain type of music, he didn’t ask any questions. “Won’t Harry notice?” She eventually asked.
“No,” he shrugged one shoulder as he passed towards the streets that used to be home. She lived an hour away now, but it felt like an entirely foreign country right now. “Probably not. If he needed me, I would probably send another one of the drivers from the company,” he said simply.
The remainder of the drive was silent. Her heart beating erratically with every closer turn to the town she left. “Do you need help?” He asked when they arrived at the hospital. She shook her head steeling herself for the horribleness she was about to endure in so many emotional forms.
“No... thank you,” she said gratefully. “And... if you have to leave... I understand. But could you please...don’t tell Harry.”
“Of course, Miss,” he smiled encouragingly. Taking her work bag with her, she stepped out of the car and headed into the hospital.
*
It was a little over an hour later that she left the hospital with one less parent in existence. Although, she hadn’t had two parents since before her brother died, she felt saddened knowing that it would never be amended. And for her mom, it would never be the same. She would always be alone, now.
Naturally, it didn’t seem to bother her mother all that much. “I’ll never forgive you,” her mom said with tears in her eyes. “You can leave now.”
When it came to her parents, there wasn’t much she could do but listen. Part of her wanted to appease them and hope that eventually they would love her again. So of course, after she said goodbye there was nothing left for her to do except listen to her mother’s request.
Her loss didn’t feel as sad as it should have. Probably because when her brother passed, she didn’t just lose her brother. She lost her best friend and her parents all in one swoop. Mourning her brother at age sixteen when her friends were buying prom dresses and going on college tours in hopes of meeting college boys was a tragedy that Shakespeare wouldn’t write.
There was nothing like mourning the death of people who were still alive and lived with you every day.
When she exited the hospital room, she called the driver once more who told her to wait five minutes and he would pull around so she wouldn’t have to wait in the cold. She stood outside anyway, for the full five minutes letting the cold wash over her. She was already numb. Everything that had happened in such a short amount of time was numbing her. The cold didn’t even hurt because she was already in so much pain.
All she wanted was to see Harry. Her chest ached at the thought of being held by him. It would cure her broken heart, she was certain.
She sniffled and a few stray tears spilt over her lash line. Without her realizing, she got more teary as she waited, only noticing when his driver reappeared. “Miss,” the driver said hurriedly. He was rushing over to her on the sidewalk reaching for her bag and offered her a tissue from his pocket. He placed a hand on her lower back to guide her up the sidewalk to the car. “Is everything alright? Are you—”
She shook her head, tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She opened the door herself as he looked on with worry. “I’m fine,” she whispered but her voice broke on the word fine. “Can you take me to Harry’s?”
*
The closer she got to his house, the more anxious and sadder she got. As he parked in the driveway, she strongly considered telling him to take her back to the apartment. However, she all but promised Niall she would come here. Maybe these tears would make him listen at least for a moment. Wringing her hands together, she sat silently, awkwardly in her seat before the driver even made a move after several minutes. With a deep breath, she swallowed and pushed the door out of the way. “Can you wait five more minutes in case he really hates me, and I need to leave?” She asked.
The driver chuckled dryly. “He doesn’t hate you, but I’ll wait,” he said.
She made her way across the path and up the steps to his front door. She knocked and was prepared to stare at her feet the whole time she waited for Harry to open the door. Maybe she even planned to stare at her feet if he was willing to talk to her. She was going to beg or cry (probably both) just for five minutes to explain everything. Five minutes to try and fix her broken heart.
“Can I help you?”
Her heart officially shattered. Her head snapped up to the beautiful woman’s voice and she gasped. It felt like someone wrapped their hand around her throat and was squeezing all life out of her. “Oh my God,” how could Niall suggest this? Did he know? Was Harry really that mad at her he would have Niall convince her to come over and see another woman and...? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered breathlessly. It felt like she was swallowing her tongue. She backed away, nearly losing her balance as she did. She wanted to be embarrassed about almost losing her balance but even standing upright she felt like she was swaying and the only thing she felt was betrayal and she had no right to feel that way.
“Whoa, hey,” the girl said reaching for her before she fell back off the steps. She regained her balance and felt like her stomach was going to heave up anything she had eaten—which wasn’t the time to remember but she realized she only had a bagel and a coffee this morning almost twelve hours ago.
Of course, Harry would find someone else. He was...him. He had money and he could have any girl he wanted. Someone beautiful. Someone who didn’t have all the baggage that she did. Someone who didn’t hide from him and someone who would do what a companion like her was supposed to do.
“Why are you apologizing? Is Harry expecting you?” She asked tilting her head curiously, trying to figure out who she was. Like this was normal for her to be answering the door and for her to be standing there. “Are you alright?” She asked gently.
She wished she wasn’t nice. It was making it harder for her to be mad. Seeing this kind woman opening the door to the house of the man she was in love with would have been so much easier if she could have been mad. But she was just heartbreakingly sad. “N-no...I...I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m so sorry,” she repeated hurrying down the few steps and nearly missed the last one tripping into the yard. So much so, she lost one of her shoes. Worse yet in her fit of non-embarrassment, just total shock, she left it there. “Oh my God,” she whimpered to herself. She was now truly worried she would throw up. She turned quickly and practically ran back for the driveway.
“Kitten?!” Harry shouted from somewhere in the house.
“Hey, wait!” The woman called suddenly.
“Fuck,” she heard Harry hiss as she hurried back to the car, tears falling quickly down her cheeks as she awkwardly limped without her shoe the path to the driveway. With her head start she thought she really might make it in the car and drive away before Harry got to her. But he had much longer legs...and he wasn’t bogged down by missing a shoe. “Goddammit! Love, stop!” He shouted running across the yard. She pulled the door handle quickly trying to get away from this house, but the door smacked shut at the same time. Harry’s hand pressed to the window while the other grabbed her arm right where it bruised. She inhaled sharply in pain and winced. Harry dropped her arm like a hot potato, he released a breath out of frustration. “Kitten, stop,” he was out of breath from his short run—but it wasn’t the run making him breathless but the thought of losing her at this moment. She wanted to look up at him and see those perfect green eyes, but she was so scared. “Look at me, please,” he begged. But her eyes stayed glued to the driveway. Harry was only in socks, and she thought that was cute. His feet in socks. It wasn’t the time, but her brain was operating on no sleep and way too much trauma for one day.
Her face crumpled in pain and she shook her head. She couldn’t look at him, if she looked all the pain would boil over and she would start crying and never stop. Why didn’t Harry deserve some woman that would be there for him the way she couldn’t be? Why wouldn’t he want someone beautiful and not plain? Someone who wasn’t so young that she was still in the internship phase. Someone who didn’t need his money or a job. Someone who was brilliant enough to help him with whatever his company and he himself needed.
“Hey,” the woman’s voice suddenly sounded beside her. It was gentle and out of instinct she turned to the direction of the woman that was currently amplifying just how terrible her day could get just by existing. It wasn’t her fault either. She really thought the girl was beautiful and lovely. She was kind to not sneer at her as a sniveling mess. She sniffled looking at her curiously. The beautiful girl handed Harry her missing shoe then stuck her hand out to introduce herself. “M’Gemma,” she said softly, apologetically in tone as she smiled at her with a terrible look of pity directed toward her.
Even though one of the only things she prided herself on was being intelligent this had to be the dumbest thing she had ever done in her whole life. She was speechless. Couldn’t even say her own name as she held her hand out awkwardly and (fortunately for her) instinctively for Harry’s sister to shake.
At the same time, Harry crouched to the ground and placed her shoe back on her foot holding her ankle so gently, like she might break. “I was just going, truly,” Gemma smiled at her sympathetically. “I’ve heard loads about you. I’ll meet you again sometime, yeah?” She asked quietly. Harry was silent throughout the interaction. His breathing erratic as he was hoping she wouldn’t leave. “Bye Harry,” she kissed him on the cheek and Gemma went to the other side of the car and gave the driver a wave before sliding into the back seat. The car drove away leaving her alone with Harry.
“Kitten,” he whispered softly.
“I’ve had a terrible couple of days,” she sniffled tears clouding her vision again. The fear of Harry finding someone else nearly ruined her completely. She was lucky that wasn’t the case. But she still had to have this talk that she promised Niall.
“I know y’have love, I just...Niall texted me...and Louis is worried...and... my love,” his voice was so gentle. It pulled at every string in her heart.
She started to say the speech she had planned in her head when she arrived. Before she saw Gemma. “I know you hate me, but I have nowhere else to go,” she whimpered, and it was all too much, and she finally let her knees give out as she melted to the ground. She covered her face and cried.
“No. Baby, I don’t hate you. Not at all. M’so sorry about everything,” he promised crouching beside her. “Let’s go inside...s’too cold t’have y’out here,” he lifted around her waist to help her stand. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her because whatever demons she was fighting right now had made her weak. But she seemed overwhelmed already and he didn’t want to add to that any more than he already had by not realizing sooner that Gemma was talking to her without her knowing who Gemma was. So, once she was standing again, he held her hand and pulled her back to the house.
*
Gemma had been extremely helpful in working through Harry’s emotions with him. “You really think Niall of all people would do that to you?” She rolled her eyes.
Harry felt like her little brother at that moment. He didn’t too often anymore because he was always busy with his company, and he was always busy doing things that he never really got a chance to just be the younger sibling and have Gemma take care of him like she used to when they were young. “I think I love her, Gem.”
“Ya think?” She rolled her eyes. Harry sighed. The pair of them were sitting on his sofa and sipping tea. They ordered out for dinner and were now chatting so Harry would calm down. Harry never left work early, but he was so distraught and angry that something had to be done. Gemma came right over, and he told her everything about the girl of his dreams. Unbeknownst to Harry, Gemma was thrilled that Harry cared so deeply about someone in this capacity. Like Niall, she noticed it was so different than anyone he ever involved himself with up to this point in time. She couldn’t wait to tell their mum.
After venting for almost two hours and working through what he needed to do next, Gemma chatted about herself and caught him up on her life. In comparison, it wasn’t much. Work was good and her dating life was good. There wasn’t much to report.
Her phone vibrated. Hey Gem. It was Niall. I know he’s pissed at me, but can you tell him to look at his phone? It’s an emergency.
Frowning, she responded to Niall while she called out to Harry. “Harry, look at your phone. Niall said there’s an emergency.” He was putting the mugs in the sink when Gemma gave him the directions. As he put the phone in his hand, his stomach dropped. He hadn’t looked at it in hours.
He had a message from Niall and a message from an unknown number claiming to be Louis. His chest felt tight. The only thought he managed was that something was wrong with her; and that was the worst kind of thought.
Niall’s said: Harry...you have to talk to her. It’s bad.
Then a second message: Really bad.
He frowned feeling worry for the sweet girl. He almost called her instead of reading Louis’ message, but there was a knock at the door, changing his plan as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He tapped on the message from Louis. “I’ll answer it on my way out, have a good weekend, Harry!” Gemma called cheerfully. He didn’t even respond because he was busy reading.
Louis’ message was a long one: Hey Harry, it’s Louis. I stole your phone number from her back in August without her knowing. She would kill me for messaging you, but we’re on a plane and... well... she said she was feeling poor and headed to your house. But El and I just figured out WHY she’s poorly. She’s ignoring her phone, or something... Can you please tell her to call me? She probably won’t even tell you, so she won’t be a bother, and I can’t tell you through a text message... I’m sure she doesn’t want to interrupt our weekend either, but... please have her call me back. Or you can when you have her in a stable place... Thank you for taking care of her... I don’t think I’ve ever said that before to you... I don’t trust her with very many people. So, thank you for taking care of my best friend.
It took him a moment to pull himself from the message and that the other voice outside was the sweet girl speaking to Gemma at the door.
“Why are you apologizing? Is Harry expecting you?” Gemma asked gently.
“N-no...I... I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, and Harry shook his head trying to reach the fact that she was there.
“Kitten?!” He shouted. By the time he raced to the door, she was nearing the car. He wondered when the driver got there briefly, but he was nearly sprinting, almost pushing Gemma to the ground, to make sure he got to the car before she did. As she pulled the door handle open sniffling as she desperately tried to leave, he smacked the door shut immediately. He would not let her leave.
Something was wrong with her arm because when he reached for it, she winced in pain and Harry thought he would murder someone if they hurt her. The messages from Niall and Louis scrolling through his mind. “Kitten, stop,” he whispered as she tried to reach for the car again. “Look at me please,” he begged. It had only been a day, but he was a lovesick man. He missed her face and he wanted to see the beautiful eyes he loved so much, the little windows to her soul. Even if he just saw them for a second. But she kept her eyes to the ground. Fortunately, at that moment, Gemma introduced herself.
That’s when Harry put it together that she thought Gemma was some other woman. He didn’t even find it funny, although he wished he could have. He felt so terrible she thought so little of how much she meant to Harry that he would find someone else in less than twenty-four hours.
Now, they were inside. “Where do y’want to sit?” He asked. “The sofa or the bed?”
“I don’t—”
“Love. Please, where will you be most comfortable?” He whispered gently.
“The sofa,” she answered.
He softly nudged her to the living area, taking her coat off before she sat and then he crouched to take her shoes off. Lightly, he pushed the sleeve of her blouse up because he didn’t forget, and he saw the nasty bruise on her arm that made his heart ache with anger. “What happened?” His voice was short. He thought of the messages both Niall and Louis sent him. “Louis texted me. Said you’re ignoring his calls.”
She shook her head. “I don’t even remember the last time I saw my phone.” He frowned. He was glad she was here. If he tried to call her and she didn’t answer, he would have gone mad with worry.  She sniffled. “Harry,” she croaked.
“M’here, kitten,” he promised, and he pushed himself to kneel between her legs and he placed his hands on either side of her face. It felt like fire to touch her like this. He craved it so badly. Not having it at movie night and not seeing her until five minutes ago...and knowing she was hurt? His heart was broken. “Tell me, please,” he begged. “I’ll kill someone if I have to.”
She sighed. “You have to listen to everything before you say something or I won’t be able to finish it all,” she whispered.
“Sure love,” he nodded obediently.
“And you can’t kill or fire anyone.” He didn’t respond because he wasn’t sure he could make that promise to her. Especially if someone caused that bruise. He pressed his lips together, knelt between her legs and held her face to keep her gaze. “It’s not going to make sense, so much went wrong so fast,” she told him.
“I can keep up,” he promised. There was a moment of pause as she collected all her thoughts trying to figure out how to begin.
She began her story. “Someone stole my debit card, and I don’t... As a rule, I don’t use my credit card... at least not right now. I have too many bills and worries to be using it. I can’t wrack up any more debt... So, I basically have no access to my account or money for a week,” Harry took a hand from her face to reach into his pocket for his wallet. That was an easy fix, and he was sad it started off so easy because that meant it was going to get much worse.
She shook her head. “Niall already gave me his, because I needed it to get to the hospital,” she said, stilling his hand from opening his wallet. She gave his hand a squeeze at the sound of Niall’s name. But he didn’t feel jealous. He did in the moment seeing his best friend holding the object of all his affections so comfortingly in his arms. He didn’t know what was wrong and he was irrationally angry that Niall wouldn’t say—even when he didn’t know at the time either. He wanted to be the one comforting her. That was all.
“Hospital?” He questioned his eyes falling back to her arm.
“I’m jumping ahead. It wasn’t for me.”
He frowned. Putting the wallet on the coffee table he would thank Niall later for offering his help while Harry was being an idiot. “Go on,” he said, and he moved to sit beside her. He stretched his legs out on the chaise section and pulled her over his body, so her legs laid over his lap. This way he could see into her eyes and still touch her. He kept one of his hands wrapped up in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I was going to try and figure out how to transfer some of my money on my laptop to a temporary gift card or something… and maybe work on my internship reflection for school but... my laptop wouldn’t turn on,” she mumbled. “And then at the same time it occurred to me I can’t even buy a laptop because I don’t have a debit card.”
“We can go buy you a new one tomorrow,” he promised.
“S’not the point,” she mumbled. “You’re not supposed to interrupt,” she reminded him.
He squeezed her hand. “M’sorry.”
“The woman from the meeting who thinks I’m stupid because I’m an intern,” she whispered the description. “Do you know who I’m talking about?” Harry nodded, curious as to how someone he only saw at meetings had anything to do with this story. Harry almost forgot about her. She was right. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, he hadn’t even had a chance to debrief with her the wonderful job she did in person and to tell her not to worry about the woman from the meeting.
“You’re not stup—”
She continued without letting Harry compliment her. “She told me that you wouldn’t sleep with me.”
Harry blinked rapidly a few times, shook his head trying to clear it. Surely, he missed something to get to this section of the story. “What? I’m sorry...what do you—”
She looked at their hands held together. “She came to my office, unprompted, while I was sad about my laptop, and she just said I was stupid and plain, and you wouldn’t sleep with me because I wasn’t your type. I’m not special or smart and just because I had one good idea and I work well with Niall didn’t mean you would want me... an intern.”
He had no idea the condition to hear her story was not firing an employee was for the benefit of some cruel woman who was just so wrong. He felt speechless because everything in those two sentences was wrong. She wasn’t plain, she was so goddamn beautiful she haunted his every thought. Add in the fact she was so brilliant and kind. Harry couldn’t get enough of her, and the idea of sleeping with her...
Again, he if it meant he could have her there in his life forever, he wouldn’t care about being intimate. But otherwise, he would kill to be so close to her. “Kitten,” he whispered.He was so mad. The rage in his chest was consuming. She would be fired. For one reason or another. Harry didn’t care what he had to do. He wouldn’t let anyone speak that way to another employee. But especially not the angel seated beside him.
“It gets worse,” she mumbled.
Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. He didn’t know how that could be possible, but he supposed he would find out. “Please continue, then.”
“She knocked my coffee all over my desk,” she said. “And it got all over my skirt, my laptop, the floor, my desktop, and then...I went to clean it and I slipped and that’s how I got this bruise,” she gestured to her arm. Instinctively, Harry reached out and brushed his fingers over it. Not only did he want to fire her, but he also wanted to kill her. The poor girl knew exactly what Harry would do under the right circumstances and that was why she made restrictions on hearing the story as such. She was good, Harry would give her that.
“That’s when you came in,” she mumbled. “I was so sad and heartbroken I couldn’t speak to even tell you what was wrong, and I knew how sad and hurt you were that Niall was comforting me... but Harry, I would never do that to you, ever. Especially with your best friend. Regardless of this... relationship we have... I would never... it’s a—”
“I had no right to be that mad,” Harry mumbled quietly. He had long since forgiven her. She didn’t even need forgiveness because she didn’t do anything wrong.
“And then you cancelled movie night,” she whispered brokenly. Somehow this sounded like it hurt her worse than the bruise or that stupid woman’s comments. Harry’s frown deepened and he rubbed his hand on the back of his head awkwardly.
“I was so sad,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It gets worse,” she repeated. He was hoping she was done. The idea it could get worse...
Harry wanted to take her heart out so he could sew all the holes that she was opening and then give it back to her. And Harry couldn’t even sew but whatever he did had to be better than whatever wounds laid in her heart. “I was a total zombie today at work. Niall was avoiding me per you, I think. He told me to go home after lunch so I could... I don’t know I think he just wanted me away from him.” Harry frowned. That was what Niall wanted. It was all Harry’s doing because he yelled at Niall and accused him of things he shouldn’t have as his best friend. “So I was walking home—”
“Walking?! It was freezing out, kitten.”
“Can you... this is the worst part...” He was silent. But in his head, he was arranging for a car to follow her for the rest of her life and would be training a driver to somehow coerce her into the car if she refused in sub-arctic temperatures. “My mom called,” she said. Harry’s heart stopped. “I went to the hospital.” His eyebrows quirked up and he pressed his lips together. After another brief moment of utter silence, “my dad died,” she whispered.
“Kitten,” he cooed. “Baby, m’so sorry.”
This had to be one of the worst days in recorded human history. No wonder Louis’ message was so long. He was probably freaking out. “I went to the hospital...my mom...she won’t forgive me and...” she took a deep breath. “I had nowhere else to go and I just wanted you and I don’t even know if that’s fair after all I’ve put you through over the last day. So, I came here. I’m sorry for wanting you, I don’t want to—”
“Kitten,” he reached for her face and pressed his thumb over her lips so she would stop speaking and stop breaking his heart. She was here. That meant the story was over. Thank God. “I want you here. Always,” he promised. “I want you.” The relief on her face was somehow one of the most heartbreaking expressions she wore throughout the duration of her story. Harry wanted to cry at the thought. He pulled her toward him, face pressed to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. One hand snaked up her back to hold the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he kissed the space of her forehead just by her hairline before closing his eyes completely content having her there.
There were so many things that needed to be addressed. She needed to call Louis. Harry wanted to call Niall...he wanted to call that terrible woman and fire her over the phone but that would have to wait until Monday. Harry would see to it that something about the funeral be figured out. Maybe he would send one of his lawyers to deal with her mum. Her bank account, her laptop, even the driver he was seriously going to have follow her... all of it needed to be taken care of for Harry to feel like he was helping her and making her horrible thirty-some odd hours end.
But for the next five minutes he was going to hold her like it was his one and only job. “M’gonna make it all better, kitten,” he murmured brushing his lips over her forehead again. “Promise.”
--
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4am-enha · 1 year
Text
enha when: they find you crying.
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genre: fluff, enha scenarios, fem reader, she/her pronouns used.
pairing: enha member! x reader!
warnings: “kys” phrase used once!!, mentions of blood and injury, bullying, anxiety, breakdown, swearing, suggested romantic relationships (if you’re not comfortable w that).
description/tags: each enha member finding you upset, hurt, or crying, and doing their best to make it better like they always do. short scenarios/imagines, ot7 enhypen (but specific member for each scene), comforting, gentleness, tooth rotting fluff, pet names, hand holding, hugging, etc.
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Heeseung - overwhelmed from school work.
The noise that echoed throughout the house from the excessive force you had used slamming your laptop and yelling was concerning- concerning enough to cause Heeseung to rush into the room and look at you with his confused, darting “Bambi” eyes.
“What was that?” He asked worriedly, scanning over the area quickly for anything that might’ve broken, or even worse, harmed you.
You deflated in your chair with an intense frown that would most likely cause you future wrinkles. You put your head down into your arms and sighed followed by an angry grunt. Honestly, you felt like bursting into tears, and that’s exactly what happened next. The tears began to escape, and you were the most obvious crier ever.
Heeseung immediately bent down to your level and rubbed your back slowly for a minute before getting the courage to ask something, “did something happen? You can talk to me.”
“I hate this fucking professor,” the frustration was very evident in your voice, “they just keep piling up assignments like it’s some sick joke and I’m just done with it!”
Heeseung flinched at your tone but let you rant, listening very carefully to what you were upset about, and trying to figure out how to help you out just a bit.
You felt like pulling the hair from your scalp, “I can’t keep doing this Hee, it feels like just when I finish one, I get a new one. I don’t even get the chance to feel accomplished for just a minute because I just have more and more to do. It never ends.”
Heeseung nodded, “how much time do you have left for this one?” he pointed at the paper all crumpled up (from your mini breakdown) beside your laptop.
“This one is new so I have a few days.”
“So you have time to take a little break then?” He put out his hands for you to grab.
“Just a little I suppose,” you took his offer of hands and he pulled you up softly into a hug.
“Come on let’s go on a walk, the fresh air will do you good my little maniac,” he snorted, and you slapped him harshly on the arm, not finding it funny- yet not being able to stop yourself from letting a little smile slip.
You got your jackets and shoes on and started to walk down the street together; Heeseung sulked a little bit when you had not held his hand again right away.
It wasn’t too dark outside yet, but it was getting there. As winter was coming to an end it started to stay lighter outside for longer, and a lot of people were spotted walking their dogs in the evenings more often now. It wasn’t warm enough yet, but it wasn’t too cold either. It was refreshing.
Heeseung kept looking over at you, staring, and smiling. You pretended not to notice at first because you didn’t want to embarrass him, but it was painfully obvious.
“What is it?” You finally whined out, smiling at his almost sickly bashfulness.
“I love you smart girl” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear, while pulling out a singular flower from behind his back for you.
Jay - injury.
The pain was agonising, and it felt as if your knees and palms were violently throbbing.
You were innocently roller skating around the block like you usually did on the weekends when you had abruptly tripped on a small dent in the pavement, causing you to be flung unpreparedly forward and your hands and knees had gotten the worst of it all as you tried to stop yourself from facepalming the ground completely.
You cried involuntarily from the deep pain, but you cried harder when you had dared look at your injuries which looked like something out of a zombie movie- all scraped up and leaking a worrying amount of blood. God knows if some of the pavement and rocks had gotten into it as well. You could only imagine the infection you were about to face.
Jay came flashing around the corner like his life depended on it. He had come with you today (and thankfully so), but he didn’t really like skating so he decided to just walk behind you. He had let you get ahead out of his sight for just a minute, but of course that is when you had to fall, when he wasn’t there beside you.
“Oh my god, are you alright?” Jay sat down on the pavement beside you, carefully bringing you closer toward him in order to hold you.
“It hurts really bad Jay,” you sobbed, wincing each time you tried to move.
“Stop moving. Is it okay if I lift you?”
You shook your head, “you don’t need to,” you tried to get up yourself to prove a point, but you wailed more as your knees trembled in pain.
“Please let me help you,” Jay pleaded with sympathetic eyes.
Jay wiped his thumbs under your eyes softly, wiping away your tears and analyzing your face. His mouth slightly lopsided, not finding your fall amusing for a mere second because of the pain you were feeling from it- even if your clumsiness was adorable to him, and he loved being this close to you
“Fine,” you said under your breath, feeling guilty that you were so helpless to yourself right now, brushing Jay away from your burning face before it became obvious you were flustered by his actions.
As soon as he got the okay, Jay propped you upwards gently and lifted you slowly into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the streets back to your house, where he planned to nurse and spoil you like a princess.
Jay was extremely concerned at the nastiness of your wounds. He always promised himself he would never let you get hurt as long as he could help it. He mentally slapped himself for not being there to stop you from falling- even if it wasn’t really something he could’ve helped.
“This is embarrassing, everyone is looking at us right now,” you mumbled.
“You should get used to it, this won’t be the only time I carry you like this,” Jay winked, smirk on his face.
Jake - bad week.
As you arrived home, you dropped your bags and things onto the floor a little less organized and with less care than usual.
“Jake?” you called out, wondering if he was home yet.
There was no answer. You must have gotten home before him today, which usually happened when he got busy.
You made your way to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water, turning it on, and prepping things to make a hot tea for yourself. You really needed it today.
This whole week had gone to shit. It started off with some major mistakes, bad sleep, and had ended with a Friday full of your boss scolding you.
You were pretty sensitive, so it wasn’t easy to take on, and hiding your upset and disappointment was getting harder.
You zoned out into your thoughts as you stared blankly at the wall, patiently waiting for the kettle to finish boiling.
A pair of familiar arms suddenly snaked around your waist from the back, making you jump.
“Sorry,” Jake giggled, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I thought you weren’t home?” you questioned his lack of response to your call out of his name not too long ago.
The loud ass noise the old kettle produced must have covered up the sound of Jake approaching behind you.
“I heard you, I just couldn’t answer because I was taking a phone call from work,” he apologized.
You nodded with understanding, continuing to make your tea silently.
“You know, you’ve been awfully quiet recently,” Jake rested his chin over your shoulder sensing something was off, hugging you from behind.
(an: in the words of sunghoon- “how romantic”)
You let out a long sigh and fought back tears from the thought of it all, but you lost that battle.
Jake immediately sprung up a bit at the sound, pulling you into a hug, “bad week?”
All you could do was nod.
“It’s the weekend now my love, let’s do something fun,” Jake whispered and ran his palm over the back of your head in a way of comforting you.
“How about we get dressed up and go out to eat?”
Jake knew you loved doing that, because you were always doing it with your besties. You put so much effort and time into your appearance and took pride in it- and Jake admired it. You always looked so beautiful in every way to him.
“That sounds good,” you perked up a little.
“Let’s do it then. Come help me pick out an outfit,” Jake smiled and grabbed your hand eagerly.
“Wait- I need to finish my tea first,” you pulled back.
“Okay then, after your precious tea,” he chuckled, “can you maybe make me one as well?” he clasped his hands together in anticipation, hoping for a yes.
“Of course,” you laughed, finding it cute.
Sunghoon - someone else upsetting you. (TW!!)
“You’re so unfunny,” your ‘friend’ rolled their eyes at you.
You were admittedly a little hurt by that, but you tried not to take it so personally. They were always like that with you, and it was probably just some harmless joke.
You had met up with a friend to hang out for a bit while you waited for Sunghoon to come pick you up a little later.
You never really hung out with this friend often, probably because you always felt uncomfortable around them when it was just you two.
When you were out in your whole friend group, they never acted like this.
Though technically, it wasn’t just you two today. They had invited their crush, who they obviously liked, but wouldn’t admit it. Your friend insisted that they were just friends too.
Bored, you picked up the last brownie from the plate and began to eat it when you felt a pair of eyes stuck on you annoyed.
“I was about to eat that one” the crush of your friend hissed.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know-“
“Whatever. Literally kill yourself,” he blurted at you suddenly.
“What?” you glanced over to your friend, half expecting them to stick up for you and say something, but instead they just giggled along and encouraged it.
You put down the brownie, feeling guilty and now very hurt and a little intimidated. Those kind of ‘jokes’ weren’t something you took lightly for personal reasons.
“In what place do you think you stand to say that to her?” an angry voice came from behind you.
It was Sunghoon, he was early, and had heard everything.
“No go ahead and say it again,” he snapped at the pair sat in front of you sarcastically.
“I said-“ the guy began again, not phased by him yet.
Sunghoon swiftly grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt, causing panic.
“What?” sunghoon spat, “you said what?”
The guy just shook his head in fear, begging to be let go.
Almost not wanting to, Sunghoon finally let go, “go home to your disappointed mothers, you sad fucking lowlifes,” he turned to you and grabbed your hand, walking away, “come on, we got better things to do.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly as you walked beside him back to the car, not sure how to process it all.
He stopped in his tracks and turned to you, “don’t you ever apologise for shitty people like that.”
“Thank you,” a few tears fell from your eyes.
“You don’t need them. You have me,” he hushed you, “let’s get ice cream on the way, I’ve been dying to get that coffee one again, especially with you,” he smiled at you sweetly.
Sunoo - too anxious to order.
Golden, crispy fries. That’s what you had a sudden craving for, and you could have it- if you would just order it.
But right now, it felt like your feet were glued to the ground and that the counter was miles away. You felt yourself freeze up at the thought of going to order it, repeating the script over and over that you had made up in your head that you were going to use when you ordered.
Ordering sounded like such a simple task, but your anxiety made it feel like a punishment. This happened way too often, and it was such a problem, you often missed out on the things you wanted.
Sunoo looked over to you glancing at the stall, your hands tugging at the hem your own shirt, obviously holding back from something.
“You want some fries don’t you?” Sunoo spoke up, startling you.
“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled.
“It’s okay if you want some, I’ll pay if you don’t have the money,” he smiled, suddenly feeling through his pockets for cash.
“No money isn’t the problem,” you sighed, “it’s fine let’s just keep going.”
Sunoo looked you up and down, you didn’t look like you really wanted to continue on, in fact it looked as if you were mentally beating yourself up about it (which you were), “are you sure?”
“Do you think they have a self service thing? Like at the mcdonald’s?” you kept your eyes on the stall.
Sunoo laughed, “no silly it’s not some food chain, I don’t think a local food stall is that advanced. Come on I can tell you want some,” he dragged you with him up to the stall.
When it was your turn to order, you suddenly froze up.
Then, it made sense. It hit Sunoo exactly why you were so hesitant to go and buy it. You were too anxious, and Sunoo not only felt like a fool for not noticing sooner, but also guilty for forcing you into the situation by accident.
“Do you want the ones with cheese?” he asked you, reaching for your hand secretly, and squeezing it comfortingly to remind you he’s there.
“Huh?”
“Cheese or no cheese?”
“No cheese-“ you answered him with a very confused tone.
“She’ll have the original fries please” Sunoo started ordering for you. It made you smile when you realised that he was aware and understood you.
Shortly after, he collected your fries and you felt yourself almost drooling you were so hungry for them.
“Uh-“ Sunoo cut you off and swung them away from your reach, “taxes”
“What?”
“Since I bought them, I get to eat the first one- it’s a tax” he giggled.
“Okay okay fine.”
Sunoo selected a fry and held it up to your mouth, indicating for you to eat it.
“What about the tax?”
“I’m giving it to you” he smiled, “eat!”
You ate it happily with a wide smile plastered on your face that lingered for the rest of the day.
Jungwon - mental breakdown. ( !! TW !! )
Jungwon was peacefully finishing the episode of the show you had both started watching together. It was just him watching it now, because you had gone upstairs moments ago saying that you weren’t feeling too well. He had asked if you needed anything, but you insisted you just needed to go to sleep- so he let you.
Jungwon couldn’t help but feel like he kept hearing a noise that wasn’t coming from the TV though. It made him pause it a few times and listen out for it.
At first, he convinced himself he was just mishearing it, so he would continue the show- until he finally caught it with the show paused while he was going to make himself a snack in the kitchen.
It was coming from upstairs, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. He was sure you’d be asleep by now, so he didn’t think it was you making any noise. Maybe it was though, so he decided to check. Just to make sure you hadn’t fell or anything like that.
“y/n?” he called out as he slowly made his way up the stairs.
The noise got louder as he approached the top, and that’s when he heard a bone chilling scream come right from your room.
In a slight panic, he quickly walked over to your room and knocked lightly, “y/n? are you hurt?”
There was no clear answer, so he hesitantly walked in. He didn’t want to intrude but he also didn’t want to just leave encase something serious had really happened. Always better to be safe than sorry right?
Luckily, you weren’t hurt- at least not physically from what Jungwon could tell. There you were sitting on the floor, fingers tangled in your hair, sobbing. It wasn’t a normal cry though, Jungwon could tell you were feeling something deeper right now.
“What’s going on?” he made his way over to you, sitting beside you, gently prompting you to stop tugging on your hair.
You sobbed harder and said some things that weren’t very audibly clear. You were in a messy state of breakdown. That was now obvious to Jungwon, so he was careful with his actions. He didn’t want to upset you any further and was trying to respect any boundaries you might have right now.
He let you cry out what you needed to, and simply just listened and stuck beside you until you became calmer, rubbing his thumb on your hand as he eventually held it (when he thought it was appropriate to do so).
There was no specific reason behind your breakdown, it had just come on suddenly- and it wasn’t something you could help. Jungwon knew that, so asking you what was wrong wasn’t the best thing to ask right now. He knew you probably weren’t willing to talk about it yet.
Instead, Jungwon explored around your room, looking and grabbing things. You watched him curiously, a lot more tranquil as you focused on him, just wondering what he was up to now.
After a few minutes, Jungwon came back over to you, laying a blanket over your shoulders and making sure it covered you up. Then, he arranged your plushies around you and handed you a few of your favorites.
“We’re here,” he smiled, looking at you and moving your hair away from your wet face, “it’s going to be okay now.”
‘We’ must have meant the group of teddies accompanying you both.
He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight, “I love you sweet.”
“I know” you teased, making him smile again with a small scoff.
Niki - misunderstanding.
As you stormed past him, Niki instantly knew you were mad.
“Hey, what happened?” he chased after you.
“YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED,” you yelled back at him, deliberately trying not to look at him.
“I really don’t, I promise!” Niki was more confused than ever right now. He couldn’t think of anything that he could have done to upset you like this.
“The fucking audacity you have,” you pointed at him aggressively.
“y/n. I want to listen to you, I do,” Niki began, making you stop yelling for a second, “but first I need you to calm down-“
“CALM DOWN?” you hated being told that.
“Okay maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say, that’s my fault, but please hear me out,” he pleaded, a little scared and worried he had just blown his only chance.
You stopped, folded your arms, and stared at him with a pissed expression, “go on then. Explain.”
“When I said calm down, I meant that I just wanted you to talk to me, in a way I can fully understand you without starting arguments,” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
You took a breath in, “Okay.”
Niki nodded, “let’s go sit down and talk.”
You agreed and followed him to the chairs.
“I understand you’re angry with me, and I know it must be frustrating that I’m asking you why, when I should be aware of doing something like that, but I am being completely honest when I tell you I am misunderstanding you. So please, explain to me, so I can correct it,” Niki stated calmly.
He was now surprising you with his communication skills. You felt a bit stupid now, like you’d been very childish. It made you feel a little guilty, so you worked with him now.
“I saw a notification on your phone, from a girl, telling you she loves you with a bunch of hearts. I don’t recognize the name,” you admitted, still bitter.
“Okay, let me see,” Niki pulled out his phone and clicked it on, displaying the notification. He held back a laugh.
You noticed, and it blew your short temper again, “THIS IS ENTERTAINING FOR YOU?”
“No love, it’s just, that’s my grandma..” he snorted a little.
“Let me see,” you snatched it from him- feeling like he didn’t see it properly.
“I don’t believe you,” you stated unconvinced.
“That’s okay, I can show you,” Niki opened up his phone and pulled up the messages. He scooted a little closer to you so you could see it clearly.
He was right. Now you felt even more stupid.
“Here,” he handed you the phone, “you can have it as long as you need to. I don’t mind what you do- just please don’t harass my grandma,” he joked.
You handed it back to him, “no it’s fine. I trust you.”
“Listen y/n I know you might not trust me fully yet because of the way you’ve been mistreated by others in the past, but hopefully I can prove myself to you soon,” he smiled innocently, “in the meantime, please talk to me first?” he held out his pinkie.
You linked yours with his, making a promise that you’d communicate like this from now on.
“Thank you for giving your trust to me though, I won’t take it for granted,” he pecked your cheek swiftly.
“It’s not that funny,” you mumbled at his giggles.
“No it’s not, it’s just you’re so cute when you’re angry,” he laughed a little more, causing you two to wrestle each other.
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feedback and notes are always appreciated ! let me know what you thought of this. :) if you read them all- which one is your favorite?
note: ello ello! if there’s any mistakes i apologize. i decided to write something in this kind of format again after it came close to first on the poll i did not too long ago. thank you all for your constant support and a special thank u to the followers that i now recognise because i constantly see their username pop up in my notifications <3 i love you!! i hope to be more active but i am starting a new course soon so that might get in the way. muah muah have a great night/day! xoxo
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The Last Call
Nanami Kento x You
I give the biggest credit to @namikyento for this idea! Thank you so much for it! I hope you guys enjoy it!
I’ll post more of Our Love Story after this weekend!
(Song Inspiration: we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by Ariana Grande)
You stared blankly at the blank word document on your laptop. The ringtone from your cell phone pulling you out of your daze. You looked at the caller I.D. with a racing heart. All of the hope you had was suddenly gone when it wasn’t who you wanted it to be.
“Emi. Are you okay?” you asked, tone with disappointment but also worry that she called.
“Let’s go out,” she said. “You need a night out.”
“I’m fine.”
“You haven’t been fine for the past four months. I think you got worst,” Emi pointed out.
You were quiet. You felt everything disappear from your grasp. And you hated yourself for letting that feeling consume you more and more.
“You helped me out from my last relationship,” Emi pointed out. “I can’t let it consume you, too. He’s a jerk for leaving you like that. He’s a jerk for that to occur. He hurt you. Show him that you can be happy without him.”
“I—“ For the first time in a while, you let your tears fall. You tried to muffle your sobs, however, Emi heard.
“You’re my sister from another mister,” she said. “If not tonight, then I’m going to come over with both of our favorite snacks and we will watch Legally Blonde, 500 Days of Summer, and maybe John Tucker Must Die.” You let out a breathy chuckle and nodded.
“Okay,” you said as you wiped your tears away. “I’ll get the living room ready.”
The two of you huddled closely together on the couch. A large, fuzzy blanket wrapped around you two as she quickly ate a bag of chips and you slowly ate your popcorn.
“These two, I still wish they ended up together,” Emi said. You nodded, your expression very melancholy.
“But he’ll find someone for him,” you said. All you could think of was him. The love you two shared that slowly disappeared and is forever gone. “We broke up once but he called me and we tried to make it work.” Emi looked at you. You haven’t spoken about the break ups. You indulge in work and an attempt to write a new book. But all of your inspiration was gone.
“And now?”
“I thought it was going to work,” you said, your voice breaking from the tears. “But…but…” You shook your head. You brought your knees towards your chest and buried your face on your knees. “Maybe I did something wrong. It had to be me.”
“No, no, and no! It was never your fault in the first place!” Emi exclaimed. “The asshole hurt you! Because I thought everything was going well! Until I started to barely see him too!”
“Then why?”
“I don’t know. You know him better than anyone. At least, that’s what he always says. So, prove that fucker wrong!”
“Okay,” you said with slight defeat. “I’ll prove him wrong.”
It didn’t happen overnight. But week by week, you would step outside and go about your daily routine. You slowly went back to your morning or afternoon walks. You stopped by your favorite bakery again, a smile becoming bright like it was before.
Today, you and Emi went shopping after you attempted to write something in the morning. You were happy to even start with brainstorming ideas. You made yourself give yourself a “me day”. And Emi never felt so proud before.
“I need new facial products,” you said. “And hair products. I need to take better care of my appearance.”
“Honey, you are gorgeous just the way you are. Your hair, beautiful. Skin, like a baby’s bottom.” You laughed and playfully hit her arm. You blushed from the compliment. It has been a while since you even received such compliments. “Everything okay though?”
“Better than before,” you said truthfully as you looked at her. “Thank you, Emi.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You helped push me,” you said. “And I needed it.”
“Good, good. Shall we do something?”
“After we shop, let’s get some alcohol and drink. It’s been a while.” Excitedly, Emi wrapped her arm around your shoulders. Again, you let out a laugh.
“Finally! My drinking buddy is back!”
The drinking didn’t last too long when you found Emi passed out on the couch by 6PM. In a drunken state, you threw the gray blanket on top of her. You poured another shot for yourself and drank some more.
And more and more, you kept drinking and drinking. You went to your room that lead to a balcony and sat down. A bottle of tequila with an empty shot glass sitting in the glass table. The cold air helping you cool down from the heat radiating within you. You scrolled through your phone. Pictures you didn’t bother to delete angered you. The happiness all gone. And it was a mistake going back down memory lane that you couldn’t stop cursing at yourself mentally. So you poured another drink for yourself to quickly down.
“Fucking jerk…” you mumbled. “I’ll give him a piece of his own damn mind…”
You went through your contacts. You forgot that you deleted his number. You felt your heart break. Much more than it had before. But why? Why would it hurt so much now? You dialed the number you only knew by heart. Your heart was racing as it rang and rang.
“Is everything okay?” That voice. The same, deep voice that brings you weak in the knees. The same voice that brings goosebumps all over your body. And the same voice that made you forget how to breathe and made your chest heavy as hell. “Y/N.”
“You’re a jerk, you know that?” you questioned, words slurred. The alcohol really hitting you to its core.
“You’re drunk.”
“Obviously, Captain Obvious.”
“You shouldn’t call me, sweet—Y/N.”
“Nanami Kento, you jerk! How dare you do this to me.” Your tears slipped, and sobs escaped your lips.
Nanami was in bed, tan slacks still on with his blue button up, the first few buttons undone with his sleeves rolled up. He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt at peace. All he could see with closed eyes were your tears. Your tear-stricken face filled with so much hurt and pain. The sounds of your heartbroken cries before he left your apartment was engrained in his mind. And all he could feel was his own heart breaking every single day.
Every night, he goes home and pours himself a glass of whiskey. Maybe even drink two or three more to help him fall asleep, even if it’s for an hour. Tonight was the first night that he chose to not drink anything. Gojo and Shoko both encouraging him to change his bad habits. And of course, of all nights, you called.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw your name on his phone. And even though it wasn’t a greeting he usually heard from you, hearing your voice again brought him great relief. A voice he missed hearing everyday. Your voice that always makes his heart skip a beat and bring butterflies to his stomach. It made him feel something, even for a moment. But he knew, he just couldn’t lure you back in again.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He imagined you out in the balcony, your knees hugged against your chest. And it was exactly what you were doing.
“It’s not fair,” you said. “I miss you so much. I still fucking love you and I don’t think I could love anyone else like I love you.” Nanami was silent. He swallowed the large lump in his throat, tears forming in his eyes.
“It isn’t fair…”
“We were so happy, Kento. I never understood why we broke up the first time, but you came back. And I was so happy. You were so happy. We did what we always did. We both worked, ask about our days, and we enjoy every moment we have together. I don’t know what I did wrong. If I did, I’m sorry. I thought I was doing everything right. Did I annoy you? Was I clingy? Was I overbearing?” Nanami took a deep breath, his tears falling. His heart broke more. He knew there was no way that you were in the wrong.
“No. Not at all.”
“But you! One day we spent all day together, you had a freak out moment, we came home, and made love! And the next day, you were distant! You were rarely home. You always went to bed early. You haven’t…I couldn’t…Kento, I needed you so much and you weren’t there for me. And then you break up with me.” You heard him inhale, obvious that he has been crying as well. “I don’t understand why you’re crying.” Nanami couldn’t help but just chuckle.
“You know me so well, sweetheart. Better than anyone else,” he said. His name for you. You always loved it. But tonight, you hated it.
“A-And you know what? I think I’m a great catch! Any guy would wish to have me!” Nanami held in his breath. Because he knew that was true. He glared at every guy that eyed your way flirtatiously. He always pulled you closer to him when the two of you were out, showing everyone that you were taken and his. Nanami got to be the lucky one. He had you. “And I hope you regret letting me go. Sometimes, I even hope you wouldn’t find happiness like you did with me.”
He knows that he wouldn’t.
“But I still love you,” you confessed. Everything you wanted to say to make him feel bad, you couldn’t help but pour some of your love in your rant.
And he still does, too. He sniffled. You heard him, and you cried a little harder.
“I hurt the love of my life. And I hope you find the happiness you truly deserve,” Nanami said.
His heart broke. Because he planned to have a future with you. He planned to love you to the fullest. He planned to be the one to support you. He planned to be the one to give you everything you could ever ask for. But now, all he could do was listen to you cry and keep breaking your heart.
“Goodbye, Kento.”
“Goodbye, my love.”
Immediately, you hung up. You put your phone on the table and hugged yourself tighter as you let your tears spill. You said what you have to say and it was all you could do. Your closure that didn’t feel like a closure. And all you want to do was call him to hear his voice again. To hear him tell you how much he loves you and how he’ll always be there for you. A part of you hoped that he would call you back.
Nanami lied there, tears spilling out of his eyes. His hand rested on his chest with his phone in hand. It was only past 7. A man already in bed the moment he arrived home. Everything you said to him repeated in his mind. Memories of you and him playing over and over. But it stopped when his phone rang again. He had hope. Was it you that called him?
But it all went away when he got a phone call from Ijichi. He wiped his tears away and cleared his throat before he answered.
“Ijichi-san.”
“We need you in Shibuya. It’s urgent.”
“I’ll be there.”
He sat up in bed, looking at his phone. A picture he saved of you that he never had the heart to delete. His favorite picture. A picture where you were busy typing your recent famous book. The smile on your face as you typed. Your smile so bright it added so much light to his dark and brooding life. His only regret was leaving you like this. Heartbroken and in tears. And he’ll regret it, even after death.
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piaduarte · 2 years
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How I manifested (crazy) physical changes
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Physical changes — probably one of the most manifested topics everywhere. Hey, we've all been there:
"I hate how I look! I am so ugly!" - everybody, from time to time
But you don't have to worry; everything is possible, even the most radical, crazy physical change ever. Look at me, I am literally the living proof of that. And, the thing is, it is so easy it almost sounds unreal.
Here we go!
It all started like, a couple of months ago. You see, I used to have the worst self-esteem problems, mostly because of my chubby cheeks and my big, hooked nose. I used to literally avoid looking in the mirror because I started crying. Again, I think you'd be lying if you told me that you never, ever, felt that way. Well, the thing is, I was sick of crying and feeling bad. Back then I didn't have all the knowledge of the law I have now, but I still did it; it was the easiest thing I've ever done.
•••
So, not wanting to wait another day, I picked up my phone and took pictures of myself — feeling sick just by looking at them. I sent those hideous pictures to my tablet, and I started working (just know, if you haven't got a tablet for digital art, you can just use some random app in your phone or laptop that allows you to modify photos).
Now, let me tell you, what I did was crazy — I was laughing so much while doing it... I took the infamous golden ratio for faces and modified my face in the picture to match it. When I was done, it looked like I just had all the possible plastic surgeries in the world; but then it was time to get creative! — modify everything to your liking; I drew in longer eyelashes, darker eyes, slimmer cheeks, everything I wanted. I repeated the process on my side profile.
•••
By the time I was done, I looked at the pictures and actually recognised myself. That was really me. The new me. Enough crying, old Pía, just stare at those photos.
And that's it; I stared at those photos every time I felt "ugly" and, in the end, I walked around and felt like that girl. The new Pía; the most beautiful girl I've ever seen with my own two eyes. I looked in the mirror every now and then, and I remember thinking to myself:
"What's in there is not true. I am the girl in those photos"
And the 3D has no other choice but to rearrange itself at my own, free will
Remember that the next time a single doubt arises.
have fun and take care!
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yunhonumeris1fane · 7 months
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Mad at you•JYH
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡
"You've been under a lot of stress, struggling to take care of yourself, which made your boyfriend worry and caused a short fallout between you"
genre - angst to fluff
pairing - bf yunho x reader
warnings- an argument between the reader and Yunho.
"Y/n, why aren't you sleeping, I thought you came over to sleep" Yunho enters the living room, yawning excessively, as it was around 11 p.m.
 Your upstairs neighbours have been renovating their apartament for weeks now, not feeling a tad bit guilty for disrupting your life even during late hours, weekends. You found yourself unable to focus and sleep, leaving you stressed out. Yunho suggested you to come over and stay at his place, to get a good night's sleep and do your projects, as it was peaceful here. And now that you're here, instead of going to sleep, you shrug it off and work on your projects.
"I'm really busy, I have two days to finish this project" you sigh, looking up to meet his eyes, he's not smiling as usual, instead there's worry lingering around his face.
"You can do it tomorrow. Go to sleep. When was the last time you had a full night's sleep huh. At least 5 hours?"
"Doesn't matter, go to sleep yourself, I'll join you later" You murmur, your half hooded eyes back on the laptop screen. Sleep deprivation is catching up.
"I can't stand watching you acting this stupid Y, get a grip of yourself " Yunho raises his voice a little, feeling hopeless, unsure of what else to do to help you.
"Then don't watch, just leave" you snap at him, as his face goes blank.
"You know, I really wanted to help you, but if you don't need my help, then it's fine" he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, disappointment in his voice is hard not to notice.
"I don't need help" you mumble, busy typing into the laptop, "leave me alone"
"Say that again" his jaw clenches, as he looks at you in disbelief, "and look me in the eyes"
 You lift your eyes to face him, "c-can you stop talking please, l-leave, I-I'm busy" your voice breaks a little, as now not only your work is stressing you out, but Yunho's nagging too.
 That is enough for Yunho, he gives up and goes back to his room, slamming the door shut. 
 'Was I too harsh?' You wonder to yourself, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. When you're under a lot of stress, the worst version of you tends to come out. You accidentally hurt people, even if you don't really mean it.
 The guilt catches up with you, so you find yourself standing by the door to his bedroom. You really want to barge in and hug him, begging for forgiveness. But you can't seem to bring yourself up to knock on the door, so turn around and tippytoe back to the living room.
 Yunho was really good at persuading people, as you are now closing your laptop shut and going to the bathroom, to take a shower, with a plan in mind to sleep on the couch later on.
 As you're headed to the bathroom, Yunho comes out of his room, to get himself a glass of water. Your eyes meet for a second, but no words leave your mouths.
 Once in the bathroom, you hang your clothes on the hook and step into the shower. In less than 30 minutes, you step out, water droplets running down all over your body. Your body feels clean, but inside you feel dirty.
 As you fetch a large towel and wrap it around your body, securing it at top, you glance at the mirror, covered in fog, from the steamy shower earlier. Your head feels a little dizzy, you don't know whether it's from the lack of sleep, not eating well enough or stress. The longer you stare at yourself, the worse the dizziness gets. You take in a couple of deep breaths, but it doesn't help, once you start hearing ringing in your ears, you know you're done. And so you collapse, unable to hold yourself conscious for any longer.
 When Yunho hears a loud thud coming from the bathroom, his heart stops for a moment. He abandons the glass of water and sprints to the bathroom. Swinging the door open, he sees your body laying on the tile floor. He quickly brings himself down to you, to check if you're hurt, but he doesn't see any wounds, so he slides his arms under your legs, your back and picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He gently lays your body down on the bed and goes back to the bathroom to take your clothes and change you into dry ones. Once he's done, he covers you with a blanket and sits beside you, patiently waiting for you to wake up.
 Moments later you flutter your heavy eyelids and see Yunho holding your hand, a soft smile displayed on his face.
 "I'm really sorry, I was so stressed, didn't know what I was talking about" you apologise to him, as your other hand finds its way on top of his.
"It's okay silly, I know you didn't mean it" Yunho shows his understanding, speaking in a comforting, gentle voice.
"Go sleep, I'll go brush my teeth and be back" he smiles as he brings his lips to your forehead, placing a warm and loving kiss, before disappearing for a good five minutes.
 When he's back, you make some space for him, as he slides his body under the covers and wraps his hands around your waist, bringing you closer to his body. Your back pressed against his chest, as he's nuzzled into your neck, taking it the sweet vanilla aroma from your shower gel.
"I love you, let's not fight again" Yunho suggests, as you feel his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚˚ ༘♡
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translatemunson · 4 months
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too polite to do it • love-struck
chapter five of love-struck — fic navigation
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“Hey,” Spencer said before you could even process what was happening.
“Hi, Spencer. If this is about the case reports, I’m gonna leave everything at your desk tomorrow,” you explained, looking at your laptop’s screen, working on those said reports.
“It’s not about that.” He sounded tired and a little bit out of breath, but that's none of your business. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” you didn’t want to sound uncertain, but your voice betrayed you. You’ve gone almost two weeks of barely any talk with him — unless it was about the case you were working on —, you were starting to lose hope about, well, everything.
After a weekend at Spencer’s apartment, comforting him regarding all the situation with his mom’s health, you were surely way beyond the walls he had built to protect himself. But the second he pushed you away, for no apparent reason, you knew you misjudged the situation. Maybe his mother was worse, and it was his right to not share more about it, but you showed you cared and were there to help him. So you took a step back and gave him space, waiting for him to reach out.
And maybe it was your worst mistake, because he settled for the work relationship all over again, not even spilling facts about your favourite tea, or the book you were reading, or the city you were going to stay for the case. You couldn’t say you felt like an old case, forgotten under piles of urgent matters, but it felt odd because, if you knew, you wouldn't have turned the status of relationship papers to Hotch a few weeks ago.
“I can hear you thinking all the way over here, Spence.” You put the laptop aside and stared at the wall.
“Sorry, I-hm, I was thinking about the best way to start this. And I don’t think there’s a good reason for what I did the last few days, so it’s best if I start with I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I pushed you aside,” his words poured from his mouth. “So, yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Ok.” You could picture him, the four green walls around him, on the other side of the city. Too distant for your liking, but maybe that was bound to happen. And everything else was nothing but a dream. “It’s ok, I get it. I just- sorry, I can’t do this right now. Can’t do this over the phone.”
“I’m downstairs,” he blunted. “But I get it if you don’t wanna see me right now. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“If you’re gonna break my heart, let’s just get over with it, shall we?”
“You’re wrong.”
“That you’re gonna break my heart? Of course you won’t, you’re too polite to do it, so I did it myself.” You walked to your front door, phone pressed against your ear, but already imagining the man outside, waiting.
You unlocked the door, seeing Spencer in his work clothes, the FBI badge still hung on his belt. The uneven hair and blank expression threw you in two different directions: how could he sound torn, look like he hasn't slept for ages, but still have a pretty face so hard to read?
“Hello, Spencer,” your voice was cold as the weather outside. You turned off your phone and stepped aside to let him in. You closed the door behind you, and he didn’t go too far from you.
“Statistically, when you state something, you’re 89% percent right, which is a pretty high number, but with an IQ of 159, it’s expected. However, this time you’re wrong.” His hands gripped the satchel bag strap nervously. “Of all the probabilities, I’m not here to break your heart.”
“So why does it feel like that?” You stared at the ceiling, blinking so you could delay the tears. “Not gonna say you’re inexperienced in relationships as a plausible excuse for what you did because that’s bullshit. You’ve read all these books about anything and everything, and still you decided that I’m not allowed to see you at your worst.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Just because it’s the truth? You pushed your friends aside, you closed the door in my face, too afraid to let us help more, to let us carry a little of your pain. For a genius, you’re pretty dumb, Reid.”
You stared at him, tears pouring down your red cheeks and shaken words. His eyes were on you, but it was almost impossible to know what was going on.
“We were friends before we were lovers. If I ever showed you signs I’m not trustworthy, please just say it, ok?” You pushed him for an answer, for just a glimpse of his thoughts. “Tell me if I got it wrong, and just… just break my heart.”
Spencer took off his bag, his badge, his winter coat, like he was stripping down from that armor he wore because of what he's been through and his job. The silence never suited him, words, facts, stories filling the room before people could even doubt his skills.
“It’s not just about my mom having a few bad days with the new meds. The LA case took a toll on me because I finally realized I’m not gonna be able to protect everyone I love forever, so I had to take some time to understand that. And I needed to do that alone.” He held your face gently, stroking the tears away. “I never intended to hurt you, to push you aside for this long. And I’m really sorry for hurting you while I was thinking of ways to do the opposite. Because I want to protect you.”
You covered his hands with yours, telling him you couldn’t bear staying away. Please, don’t fade away like an old memory, you silently begged him.
“I know not even all the sorrys in the world will do, and I’m probably gonna make a thousand more mistakes, but I’ll never push you aside again. Never.”
As to confirm his intentions, he took a step closer. And then another one. He lowered his head until he was just inches away from you.
“I trust you,” he kissed your forehead. “Seeing you sad and quiet broke my heart,” one kiss on your right cheek. “You won’t ever break your heart again because I won’t let you do it to yourself,” the skin on your left cheek was damp from the tears. “And I’ll sit and let you pour your heart out after what I did, even if the truth hurts. But I deserve your anger, and I’ll prove to be worthy of your love until I’m out of ideas.”
You’d have a long road ahead, you knew that. And you were going to make mistakes, and be in the same position Spencer was. And you were gonna find your way back to him, gonna be a better person for him and for the world. Just because people were mean to you or you faced the most dangerous psychopaths and situations, it was no excuse to be like them.
“We know promises are inherently hard to keep, but I promise, Spence, I will never let you go again,” you said.
“And I promise I won’t break your heart.”
You closed your eyes, the only question you wanted to ask him before you could leave this all behind and move to a better relationship on the tip of your tongue. Spencer was great with numbers, geographical profiles, and a long list of facts he knew by heart. And you were great at analyzing people’s words, from their intonation to their commas and periods.
“You said something before.”
“I kinda said a lot of things, do you want me to repeat?” he joked, lighthearted.
“You want to protect the ones you love. Not just because it’s part of your job, but because you love them,” you dogged the question, hoping he was smart enough to pick the queues.
“And look how that ended up.”
“Once I read this really cheesy book from Alan Cohen, he said ‘When you protect yourself from pain, be sure you do not protect yourself from love’.”
It was like watching the wheels turning on his brilliant mind, but not getting far enough to hear the words that are almost slipping out of your mouth. You moved a little bit of his hair away from his face, taking in all the details slowly as you touched his face.
“I forgive you, Spence.” His warm brown eyes watched you and your every movement. “Do you wanna stay the night? I need to finish the-”
“Yes. And I’ll help you with the reports tomorrow,” he held your hands, pushing your skin closer to his, “and take you to a vintage store I found the other day. I think you’re gonna like it. And then we can go out for some Indian or Mexican food.”
“Perfect. Now come here,” you brought Spence along until you both fell on your couch.
You turned the TV on, but as soon as his hands started to move up and down your back, and your legs intertwined, you fell into a deep sleep — perhaps the best you had in weeks. His kisses were smooth and light as a feather, but they were enough to bring you back together and then screw your mind forever.
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a/n: i'm not the best writer in english (i barely survive as one in my first language), but i tried my best! once again, thanks to the love of my life kay @munsonsreputation for the feedback and constant inspiration! hope y'all like it, let me know if i should bring more chapters in this format!
next chapter: wherever you stray, i follow
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catscidr · 11 days
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// aquarium (i want you dead or alive) //  
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i. note — hihihi enjoy this short thing i did as a warmup to get my brain juices flowing _(:3」∠)_ this was inspired by aquarium from funny boy matt watson (its a good song trust)…..heard the chorus n went "wow this sure does remind me of someone" ii. includes — modern au akademiya (university) student dottore, gn!reader  iii. cw — stalking and yandere tendencies, obsession, smoking, blood, homicidal thoughts. no dialogue; just dottore nd his thoughts. also not quite proofread ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ iv. wc — 1k -> now also on ao3 (b˙◁˙ )b
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It’s hard to ignore things when your brain is so hellbent on making you notice. 
Forcing your eyes to flit over every single inch of a room you walk in, making your legs carry you towards something that, unconsciously, caught your attention because they just happened to remind you of something. 
When it’s curiosity driven it isn’t too bad, since the worst that can happen is a slight pang of disappointment when your curiosity isn’t sated from your inquisition.
It’s an entirely different problem when the urge to look for something specific is caused by a deep-rooted obsession with something. 
Someone. 
And it’s even worse when you see things in places where they simply are not. 
Walking out of the Akademiya to seek shelter at the dingy bus stop the city can’t bother fixing, catching a glimpse of the poster on the side of it. A model posing with a bottle of perfume stares back, the advertisement almost mocking him as he stops walking shy of being under the bus stop’s roof. 
Its face morphs into one he’s all too familiar with instead of being a stranger’s, and his mouth inhales more air than it needs to. 
Stepping into the squalid convenience store near his flat to grab an energy drink and a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly paying for the items until the cashier says ‘have a nice evening’ in a tired, unenthusiastic tone. Hands faltering for a millisecond as he awkwardly grabs what he purchased, immediately taking out and lighting up a dart to exhale the agitation simmering inside his gut. 
The pitch of their voice was uncannily close to yours. 
Slamming his apartment door shut and kicking his shoes off, dragging himself into his room to make good use of the energy drink he just bought. Opening his laptop only to be met with the sight of sanguine boring into the screen before it dissipates and the screen lights up, displaying his hard work. 
Curtains drawn at all hours of the day, his bedroom was no stranger to gloom. Though void of any natural luminescence, multiple copies of your face smile back at him. 
He exhales smoke through his nose, tapping the excess ash forming at the tip of his cigarette into a tray and takes a sip of his drink, never blinking. 
... 
To him, not having any classes together didn’t matter at all. Didn’t even make a single difference. 
None. 
Because sitting in the same lecture hall as you wouldn’t matter or change a thing, since he would be just as far away in that hypothetical than if he were in a different class.  
Which he is. 
His grades are high enough that he can afford to ditch his class to loiter in the vicinity of your classroom instead. You don’t speak much, but he doesn’t particularly care since it allows him to listen. To memorize the sound of your chair screeching as quietly as it can behind you, memorize your tendency to be one of the first people to leave the class in order to rush to your next one. 
Memorize how you fail to take notice of your surroundings on days like these where you have a class right after the other, as he watches your legs work overtime to carry you to the other side of the building to make it in time. 
It lets him think, undisturbed. 
... 
He never musters up the courage to speak to you. You only spoke because he was careless and accidentally made himself noticeable in the sea of students one too many times, and he apparently looked so out of place that you sparked up a conversation with him despite not being the type to reach out first. 
Maybe God was playing with him by making you do something he hadn’t predicted. The conversation itself was brief, but long enough for him to want to talk to you again. 
And for you to want to talk to him again, too. 
...And talk to you again he does when you spot his minty bedhead in the library and sit across from him, making his poor heart leap out of his chest, bringing one hand down to close his laptop screen a little too harshly. Bile rose in his throat; too engrossed in his research, he hadn’t heard you approach him at all. A fault he’ll have to rectify later. 
After you apologize in his stead to the students that gave you both a side-eye for making noise, God how he wants to pluck each and every single one of their eyes out, you take out your own laptop from your bag and open it up to get to work alongside him. 
He tries to keep his mind at bay for now, wanting to enjoy his impromptu date with you. 
... 
Washing blood off his clothes has always been a hassle, especially considering how he had to walk to the laundromat to do so. He somehow always has a stain somewhere on his person, whether it’s from accidentally hurting himself or from his proneness to getting nosebleeds. 
Or other reasons. 
Standing over the sink, he watches the liquid drip from his nose down to the porcelain basin. Observing the pattern it makes as it slides down the drain, watching the vibrant red turn into slithers of watery vermillion. He clutches the edges of the sink tightly, letting himself fantasize about assaulting the students from a few hours ago. Cleaning their blood off of his shirt, then watching his clothes tumble in the washing machine in the laundromat. 
Now that he was alone, he shuts his eyes and sighs. He refused to let himself think anything less than pure thoughts around you lest you somehow gain the ability to read minds and decide to read his, if they could even be called that. 
They were more akin to promises than anything else. 
Opening his eyes, he’s met with more red than white, his nose’s blood having taken up more surface area than the sink itself. Some had even gotten on his previously pristine collar. 
Zandik glances up, staring at his stained button-up in the mirror. 
Maybe he wouldn’t wash your blood off of his clothes. 
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snowy-vee · 25 days
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TUG: I can’t have my heart lookin’ stupid (2)
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n/a: I am on the wost mental block, unable to write anything, so I've decided to just WRITE WHATEVER, so I may be posting One-shots and writing for the On-goings whenever inspo come at me, I was going to write some shower smut but maybe for the opening of next chapter. Also, I always forget of the taglists, so sorry, I'll try to remember better after this one
Chapter not revised
taglist; @littlegingerperson5 @lil-elliesgf @bready101 @lmaoo-spiderman @elliescoolerwife @girlrotterr @les4elliewilliams @ellseasp @elsgirll @mikellie
INDEX
You finally could rest in that desk after finishing all the work Professor Mendozal eft you, you sighed looking around the office. Yeah, time to go to your dorm and sleep, maybe cuddle with Ellie if she was down to it, of course cuddling as friends.
Because you and Ellie were friends before anything, you two should never forget that, even if it came with some benefits that had to be kept secret to the public for the good of friendships and relationships. Sometimes you felt bad about what you were doing but then she had her lips on yours and that was enough to shut those thoughts… and Daniel did not deserve to be hurt because he couldn’t make you cum, maybe one day he would stop moving his fingers in your clit as if he was a fucking DJ mixing the worst mix in the history of music.
“Hi” You said opening the door of the dorm, throwing your backpack in your bed and throwing yourself too leaving a frustrated huff. Ellie was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed typing in her laptop barely acknowledging you, it was normal when you entered the dorm tired and just screamed into the pillow or sigh heavily and then went silent for long seconds. “You’re doing homework?”
“Yeah”
“Oh, shit!” You suddenly kneel on your bed, opening your backpack and pulling out a brown bag. Ellie looks at the bag and opens her mouth surprised as you wave it.
“No way”
“Yes way” you said going to her bed and sitting on the edge as you gave the bag to her “I did a little stop and I saw the bakery you like, so I decided to buy the pastries you talk so much, you can see it as thank you”
She opens the bag taking out one and biting it, she closes her eyes and licks her lips. You chuckled at her reaction; she seemed so adorable to you. “This is like fifteen minutes away from your building, you are thanking me for what?”
“For that tongue of yours”
“I must be really good for you to spend money in this, very expensive for your wallet” you open your mouth wide muttering a long ‘wow’ with a hand on your chest, showing how offended you felt.
“This is what I get for being nice… now, for real, the notes you sent me for the class? Worked so fucking great, I almost had a brain orgasm”
“That doesn’t sound great, not something I want to experience”
“Trust me, you do…” you chuckled looking over her desk, there was clothes neatly folded in the chair and her “special shoes” (meaning she only wore them once in a blue moon) were out of their box “You’re going out tonight? Where? A good party? I wanna go!”
“Uh, something like that, I guess” she scratched the back of her neck and smiled weirdly “It’s my anniversary with Cat”
“Ew- I mean, amazing! That’s so… coupley of you two ¡Go lesbians! or whatever”
Ellie stared at you for a long minute tilting her head before she talked again. “Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, just being supportive” You got up from the bed and went to check the clothes to see what the outfit was “Oh, god, I could be supportive helping you not look like your everyday ¿What the hell is this? ¿Are this the same jeans you wore yesterday?”
“I look good in those!” Ellie got up leaving the pastries in her night stand and snatching the pants from your hand.
“Never said you didn’t” You raised your hands in a gesture of peace. “What I’m saying is that you let me help picking you a good fit to impress Cat in your anniversary, come on, don’t let romance die, you guys are so cute and-”
“Will you stop talking if I say yes?”
You nodded energetically clapping once as you turned around and open the doors of her wardrobe. Ellie sighed defeated as she went back to her bed and kept working a little bit more until you could find something worthy, it’s not like she didn’t had good clothes, it’s just that her style was very plain and casual but it look great on her, she did not care that much, now if we talked about shoes… Ellie was a sneaker head, at least one in making, half of her paycheck or allowance went on some new shoes and she started telling you every detail and why it was so different from the other one she got last month, you couldn’t care less but you liked how she expressed herself so you listened to every word and sometimes found yourself spitting some random fact to someone that you learned from her about it.
In less than 30 minutes you had something “Try this on!”
You threw the clothes at her landing poorly on the floor next to the bed, she again gave you that look but huffed taking off her tank top, she had no underwear and you were shamelessly looking at her tits as she put on the shirt and started buttoning it up. There was no way you were dolling her up to go on a date with a Cat and you were going to be locked up in the room celibate mode, that sounded frustrating.
“Not bad, actually” Ellie looked at her reflection in the mirror, nodding slowly as she checked herself.
The clothes fit her so good and the new haircut she got days ago made her look 100% better, you were smiling through the pain of not being able to rip them and make her yours in that exact moment. Ellie was now making faces in the mirror, tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand on her chin, etc.
“Miss steal yo-girl is feeling herself” you chuckled going back to your bed, your job was done here “With that outfit you will get a lot of girls”
She chuckled too starting to undress as she was walking towards the bathroom “Well, Cat is the only one that matters”
“…yeah”
You could hear the water running but the door was still open, maybe she was waiting for it heat up, anyway, you were going to respect their relationship tonight, It was anniversary night, that was a big thing. Cat had all the rights to only she be the one to have Ellie for herself that day and you were not going to meddle.
“Wanna shower?” Ellie was leaning against the doorframe only a towel cover her body, you practically jump from your bed to meet her in the bathroom taking your clothes off quickly.
“I thought you were never going to ask”
If Ellie didn’t respect her relationship, why would you?
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sarcastiaa · 14 days
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𝓝𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓲 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸’𝓼 𝓦𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓐𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 2
I wrote a part 2 as some of you wanted! Thank you for loving the part 1.
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♡ On the days when you’re sick and he’s working from home, he’d sit on the bed next to your sleeping body and work on his laptop. When he looks at you, he would simply turn his laptop off for a moment and stare at you, admiring your beauty even though you’d call yourself a mess at that time. He’d like to admire you and your beauty even when you feel the worst about yourself, you drooling during sleep, your messy morning hair, your thighs and stretch marks that you hate, he’d look at them, kiss on them and admire them everyday.
♡ He knows you have ADHD and you can’t focus properly while talking to him or doing anything. So when he has to tell you something important or wants to talk to you about something he’d take you to the bed and make you sit while he’d go to the dresser and bring one of your nail polish. He’d sit in front of your feet and paint your nails while talking to you and that’s his way of making you focus on him and the conversation. You’d see him sitting on the floor painting your nails and all you can do at that time is to caress your hand on his hair and talk to him. He knows how to control you <3
♡ Kento would sit and stare at the ring on his finger. The wedding band. He likes to hold your hand while you sleep just to feel your little hand on his and to listen to the sound of both of your wedding bands clinking. That sound was his second favorite, first was always when you moaned his name~
♡ After having steamy nights with Kento, you’d find yourself lay on the bed, tired unable to move. Kento would bring washcloths to clean you up on bed and then he’d change the sheets before sleeping as well. He’d do anything to give you the rest after all of that.
♡ Before getting married, Kento would occasionally call you “Wife” just to see your reaction. The way your cheeks and the tip of your ears used to get rose pink, the way you squinted your eyes while smiling, the way you looked away and your hair flipped with the turn on your head, he’d enjoy that. Now he’d call you “Mommy” occasionally to make you feel the same way. The way he said “Mommy” is not sexual, he initiated it as his baby’s mom.
♡ Kento would secretly take pictures of you when you’re zoned out, working or doing something and he has a whole folder in his phone called “My Love ❤️” where he keeps them. At work when he feels frustrated or tired he’d open his gallery and go through that folder to see you and to remind himself at the end of the day you’re at him waiting for him.
♡ Kento rarely calls you by your name. It’s always “Sweetheart”, “darling”, “love”, “my girl”, “my princess” or something that he uses and that makes you fall for him over and over again.
♡ When you’re standing in front of the mirror after shower trying to dry your hair with a towel, Kento would make you sit in front of the mirror and plug the dryer. He’d tell you how you shouldn’t always leave your hair half dry cuz you get sick easily. Then he’ll use the dryer on your hair while giving you little lectures on how you should always take care of yourself.
♡ Kento would look at you standing in front of the mirror and hug you from the back making out feel safe in his arms then he would rub his hands on your belly and remind you how beautiful your body would look when you’d be pregnant with his child. He’d just rest his head on your shoulder and look at you and him on the mirror for minutes.
♡ When he’s turned on he can’t really ask for it or say it to you. Instead he’d just start acting clingy or poking you. He’d stare at your face or just randomly kiss you on your neck, put his hands on your waist and squeeze it tightly. And after being with him for so long you’d understand what he wants or what he’s initiating. You would just look at him with a smile and drag him to the bedroom and slam the door close knowing things would get even better from there.
♡ On an arcade date when you see one specific teddy bear and told him you wanted that, you would see him putting all of his heart and money out to get that one teddy bear. You’d go around the arcade playing other games while he’d be stuck with that one claw machine until he gets the teddy for you.
♡ Kento would never tell you to not wear revealing dresses even when it bothered him a little. He would simply just try to cover or walk in front of you when he notices some men staring at your cleavage or he’d just make you hold something on purpose and give excuse like he needs to tie his shoe or something. So that you move looking towards him and the men pass by without staring at you. He believes he’s taller and stronger than anyone so even if anyone stares at you or bugs you he’d always be there ready to fight.
Part 1:
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