#which i guess she's entitled to do being the boss and all

[fazcinatingblog]

My boss couldn't put the seek ad for the receptionist on last week because it was a full moon and she "doesn't like doing things on a full moon" yeah same

#also should've seen her face when she opened the drawer in the reception area and saw the cheque i'd stuffed there #I'm sorry!!!! I'm just hoarding undeposited cheques around the office #no it's a cheque we deposit at the other bank for the old boss - idk why we still do it for him but we do #god forbid the day sophia inevitably gets rid of the accountant 'for being too slow to get the returns out' and me for idk everything #who will mort & co contact to do his returns and bas's and deposit his cheques???? Sophia wouldn't think about these things at all #what else oh the correspondence i'd left on the reception desk IT WAS ONLY THERE SINCE LAST FRIDAY IT HASN'T BEEN THERE LONG #but of course the boss was freaked out about it and went through it #which i guess she's entitled to do being the boss and all #technically she should read the mail after I've opened it every day but we've gone slack on that #she's barely ever in the office #also 'hugh' (not the right spelling) is 'hughie' to her #has she genuinely got the name wrong or is she on nickname basis with my mortal enemy?????

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Mi Galleta (Part 4 - Oatmeal Raisin)

6.4K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Pero tries to get back in your good graces.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), angst, reader is hard on herself, pining, pet names (Cookie, princesa, hermosa, etc.), standard warning for Biker!Pero even though this isn't a biker AU, reader can wear Pero's shirt, eventual smut, unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), they are IN LOVE OKAY 🥹

A/N: It's a HEA, don't worry! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along with this mini-series! I can't believe I completed something 🥹

Series Masterlist

Pero is desperate to see you and to serve his penance for whatever you may have heard, but you won’t return any of his messages and all his calls go straight to voicemail; he’s pretty sure he’s been blocked.  Of course, he knows where you work and where you live, but he doesn’t want to scare you or make any of your spaces feel unsafe by showing up unwanted and unannounced, so he doesn’t go to you.  But it’s killing him.

You don’t come to the restaurant and neither do your friends.  In fact, the closest Pero comes to you for a month is when he spots Dorothy leaving one of Lin’s sister restaurants.  He had stopped by to grab some paper work when he sees her getting her coat from the coat check; after he calls her name, he watches her internally debate whether or not to ignore him, eventually separating from her party to stalk over to where he's awkwardly waiting.

“How is she?” he begs, unable to muster even a greeting or something remotely more eloquent.

Dorothy extends her hand and points her index finger directly into his chest, the force with which she pokes him shoving him back, “Leave her alone or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

She stomps off without another word, and he’s left feeling even worse than before; he can only imagine that Dorothy’s ire is reflective of yours.

He has to talk to you, has to know what you heard those assholes say so he can explain and soothe away the hurt caused.  But he doesn’t know how.

---

It’s worse than Pero thinks.  He’s broken you.  You remember sharing with him your insecurities surrounding letting your family’s wealth, or money in general, define you; Pero had nodded sympathetically as you explained how important it is for you to carve something into this world beyond the privilege that’s so plainly etched into your very presence.  It would be one thing if he thought you silly.  But this… to know that money is all he saw when he looked at you?  To hear Pero, William and those men reduce you to nothing more than a rich bitch, and write you off as unworthy of respect, undeserving of true affection?  It made you feel dirty.  Your money made you dirty.

You’re humiliated.  And your heart is broken.

You’re hard on yourself.  How could you have been so stupid?  Did you really think a few cookies and a kind smile would truly win over a man who abhorred snobbery?  He must have pegged you for an empty, vapid trophy fuck the first time he met you when you were just some entitled brat who wanted to eat at a fancy restaurant.  Why would he ever think differently of you?  How stupid of you to think he might.

Once in a while, you will recall Pero’s whispered sweet nothings and his soft touches, and your eyes will well up immediately.  He had fooled you so good.  You wonder if it disgusted him to pretend to care for you when he actually found you pathetic.  Or did it amuse him how easily you had fallen for his charms? Did he laugh at your dumb naïve heart?  You hate yourself a little for being so stupid. 

And you hate yourself a lot for still missing him.

“Guess what?” asks your boss, excited.

“What?” you can’t help but grin.  Greg is a good boss.  He’s mentored and trained you, and for the past few years, he’s treated you like his co-lead on the team, giving you the opportunities and responsibilities to help you rise in your career; broadcasting your value to the firm by seeking and relying on your opinions and decisions.  He’s a good egg.  You’re really lucky.

“Joanna is coming to town!”

Ahhh… Joanna is Greg’s boss.  She’s a good boss too, just a bit more restrained in her positive feedback than Greg would probably like; more than once you’ve surmised that Greg cultivated with you the type of mentor-mentee relationship that he had hoped for with Joanna.  Still, she’s an important figure at the firm and Greg loves impressing her. 

“That’s great!  Where are we going for lunch?” your eyes twinkle; if there was one thing Joanna likes, it was going out to eat on the company’s dime.

“Well… I need to ask a favour.”

“Ask away,” you smile, if you can help Greg get on Joanna’s good side, you’re happy to do it.

“I know you’ve been to that restaurant Lin?  The one on Cardero and has the rave reviews for its fusion food?  Joanna read about it and wants to go.”

Your heart drops the moment he says the name of the restaurant, but you successfully keep a placid expression in place and nod.

“I heard it’s hard to get into.  Impossible.  No, actually, I can’t even find out how to do it?  Do you have any idea?  Or… do you think you could get us in?” Greg puts his hands up in prayer and makes a puppy dog face at you, complete with comical pout.

It’s been almost two months since the day you had run away from Lin; no, since the day when those disgusting words and the sound of Pero’s cruel laugh had chased you out.  You and your friends haven’t been back, and to be honest, you haven’t done much going out since.  Eloise and Dorothy were perfectly happy to stay in with you, watch old movies, drink wine and wallow, but you hadn’t wanted them to miss out on the city scene; besides, as you reminded them, it was their job to go out.  So, at your insistence, they had gone back to the social scene, leaving you at home with your still very broken heart.  The idea of seeing Pero, of asking him for a favour, gives you a stomach ache just thinking about it.  Would he laugh in your face?  Pretend he didn’t know you?  Some other equally awful possibility your imagination isn’t masochistic enough to come up with?  Probably.  But, Dorothy did say she had a run in with Pero at another restaurant a couple of weeks ago; perhaps he no longer worked at Lin.  You wrestle internally with whether or not you want that to be true, but agree with Greg that it’s worth you giving it a try.

Pero barely registers when a group of patrons file into the lobby, most of them stepping aside into the waiting area, probably waiting for all of their party to show up.  He gives them a cursory glance while maintaining his glowering expression; he counts seven (so far) office workers.  After less than a minute, a man and a tall woman who’s impeccably dressed, walk in.  The man is chatting excitably to her, and she is giving him polite responses while taking in the surroundings of the lobby with an air of condescension.  Unexpectedly, they also move aside to join the group that’s waiting.  Pero would have thought these two were heading up the party, but he doesn’t have any time to register his surprise because the figure that was hidden by theirs, revealed when they moved to the side, is yours.

Although you’re not making eye contact with him, you do continue walking towards him and Pero’s heart leaps into his throat; he holds his breath until you reach his desk.

“Hi,” you finally raise your eyes to look at him. 

“Hi,” he exhales.  His heart hurts.  Your eyes seem dimmed, and you look like you’re trying to make yourself small, like you would rather be anywhere but here.

“I’m sorry to have to ask.  My boss’ boss is in town,” you give a small smile when you look over and nod in their direction before turning back to Pero, “She really wanted to eat here, and my boss really wants to impress her.  Do you think it would be possible?  I’m sorry to ask this of you.”

Pero can’t stop looking at you.  You’re more beautiful than he remembered.  And still so sweet and kind.  Even now, it’s clear you don’t want to be here, but you’re extending yourself to help someone else.  He wishes you knew you didn’t have to apologize.  He would never deny you anything, happily give you anything you desired, “It’s not a problem, you don’t need to apologize.  How many are you?  I’ll call up to Leah to expect you.”

“Leah?!” your face lights up knowing that one of people you were closest to at the restaurant is working today, “Oh!  I’m so glad! We’re ten, thank you.”

So thrilled and relieved to see your smile, Pero can’t help but break out into a grin himself, breaking the illusion of the fearsome bouncer he’s supposed to be, “She’ll be glad to see you as well.  Come on, call your party over.”

After everyone has filed into the elevator, you step in last and watch as Pero reaches in to press the button; for the first time today, you really look at him and mouth, “Thank you.”

Upstairs, you find Leah waiting for you with a big smile and an even bigger hug; after an enthusiastic greeting to you and your party, she leads you to one of the best tables in the restaurant.  You see Greg giving you a discreet thumbs up as Joanna looks around the large dining room, marveling at the elegant décor. 

“We would like to offer you our Chef’s tasting menu today.  It’s 12-courses, chef’s choice of his favourite dishes.”

“Oh!“ you look at Greg unsure, and he in turn also looks very unsure, especially when he sees Joanna smiling broadly; it sounds very expensive, maybe too expensive for a corporate lunch.  You’re just contemplating how you can manage to discreetly cover some of the cost when Leah shocks you, “Everything today is complimentary, please don’t be shy.  It’s everyone at Lin’s pleasure to have you as our guests.”

“Leah,” you start to protest, but she shushes you with a knowing look in her eye and a conspiratorial smile.

“That sounds wonderful!” exclaims Joanna, and when you see how she beams, impressed, at Greg, you nod in assent at Leah, who grins back at you.  After she leaves to put in everyone’s drink order, you excuse yourself and follow her.

“LEAH!!” you hiss, when you catch-up to her next to the kitchen.

“Yes?” she looks up at you with an innocent expression.

“That’s too much! Let me pay for some of this!”

“No can do, hun.  I’m under strict orders to spare no expense for your table today.  Give your boss’ boss the VIP experience.”

“Oh Leah,” you soften.

“He misses you.”

You don’t have a response to that.

“And he’s been a miserable grump to everyone at the restaurant.”

This you can easily believe, “I’m sorry, Leah.  He… broke my heart.”

She looks at you like maybe she knows something you don’t, but also with something like sympathy; after another hug she makes a silly shooing motion with her hands, “Go on back to the table.  Drinks and the first course will be out shortly.”

Lunch is superb.  Each course more tantalizing than the last.  One might have thought 12 courses was too many, but each dish is perfectly portioned and sequenced so that the flavours of each course build upon the one previous, culminating in one very satisfying meal.  Elevating the food to another level is the impeccable service and attention that you and your table receives.  It seems like your party is attended to by more than twice the usual staff; each person’s needs anticipated before they can even voice them, leaving them wanting for nothing.  At one point, you choke down a chuckle because it reminds of you those regency dinner scenes where each diner has a footman standing right behind them; it’s almost too much, but Joanna is eating it up.  Greg is elated, and you couldn’t be more pleased at seeing him triumph. 

When the after-meal coffee and tea is served, a giant cookie is wedged between your cup and its saucer; ginger molasses, your favourite.  You take a nibble and it’s heavenly.

“Hey!  How come the rest of us don’t get cookies?” jokes one of your teammates.  You look around and realize it’s true, you’re the only one that got a cookie.

Leah is quick to answer, “It’s an apology cookie.  For our lackluster performance the last time she was here.”

You know the true meaning behind the gesture and these words, but you can’t help but shake your head, “Don’t be ridiculous, no apology is necessary.  And even if one was warranted, which it is NOT, today’s exemplary service and food would have been more than enough.  We couldn’t be more impressed.  Thank you so, so much.”

Your table mates echo your sentiments and thanks.

Before you leave you leave the restaurant with your team, you force Leah to process a generous tip for all the staff on your card; she tries to protest but stops when you give her a scowl that you think would rival Pero’s.  Giving her a hug goodbye, coupled with a promise that you’ll try to come back soon, you ride the elevator back downstairs a jumble of emotions.

There’s no doubt in your mind that the special treatment your table received today was at Pero’s behest, but why would he bother?  It was enough that he had granted your party access, nothing else had been expected or needed; but the staff had gone out of their way to make sure your experience had been special, that Joanna was impressed and wowed.  You sneak a look at Greg’s expression next to you; he’s positively glowing.  You decide that you could drive yourself crazy trying to understand Pero’s motivations, but the important thing was that he had gone to great lengths for you when he didn’t need to and you’re extremely grateful.

You find that you don’t dread seeing him now the same way you did when you came in earlier, actually looking forward to thanking him for the kindness he has just shown you and your co-workers.

You’re the last to leave elevator and by the time Pero’s desk comes into view, you see that half of your teammates have already exited the building.  Ahead of you, Greg is earnestly shaking Pero’s hand, thanking him for his hospitality and singing the praises of the restaurant.  When you see Pero’s kind expression and the sincerity with which he clasps Greg’s hand in thanks, your already softening heart melts a little more.

Finally, it’s your turn. Pero’s been waiting for you.  Waiting since the elevator doors closed earlier.  Waiting since the day he knew you were last in this very lobby.  Your eyes don’t leave his as you approach; he thinks the expression in your eyes is a little softer than earlier, a little bit of the light that he’s missed is back.  For a what feels like an eternity, neither of you say anything, then simultaneously,

“Cookie…”

“Thank you.”  Pero gestures for you to go first.

“Pero, thank you.  The lunch was such a success and an incredible dining experience in and of itself.  I know it was all because of you.  Thank you.”

“Cookie.  Not me.  It was because of you.  Everything was for you,” Pero’s tone soft and pleading.  He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he can barely contain his emotions.  To have you here before him, your sweet face looking at him like you with something that isn’t the imagined hate that’s been haunting him – it's all he’s been hoping for for the past two months.

You don’t know what to say.  Why would he do this for me?

About to thank him again, you’re stopped when Pero holds something out to you.  It’s an empty container.  The one previously filled with the snickerdoodles you had forgotten on his desk the last time you were in this lobby.  Everything comes rushing back now.  Your chest tightens at the memory of the crass and demeaning words you overheard and the harshness of Pero’s cruel laughter that still rings in your ears.  And just like that, your good mood is shattered, much like your heart. 

You take the container back, hands shaking, and mumble another thanks; leaving quickly before you start to cry.

Pero stares at your retreating form, knowing that you’re hurting and feeling helpless that he can’t do anything but be the cause.

---

You’re unable to concentrate on anything once you get back to work, still reeling from the whiplash of emotions you’ve experience since seeing Pero again.  Luckily, despite your boss’ boss’ presence, the entire department seems to have collectively decided to forgo doing any work for the rest of the day, instead chatting happily about the experience at Lin and upcoming weekend plans.  Glad for everyone’s distracted state, you attempt to process your feelings.  Toying mindlessly with the cleaned container that was returned to you today, you open it when you feel the slight weight of something move inside.  Reaching in, you find a piece of paper, folded several times; when unfurled, you realize it’s a letter.

Cookie,

I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what you overheard the day you left me the cookies that came in this container, but I have to apologize for your ears ever being exposed to anything so offensive and vile; I won’t give it any credence by repeating any of it.  

The people responsible no longer work here and have not since the moment William and I were able to express our disgust for their comments.  If for even a second you felt that there was any truth to what was said about you, I am truly sorry – I cannot bear it actually, because, princesa, you mean more to me than you can fathom.

I would do anything for you.  Serve you willingly.  Do anything to see you smile or bring you a moment’s joy.  Cookie, I love you. I didn’t want the first time I said it to be in a letter, but it’s possible this may be my only chance, so here it is. I love you.

I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you; the day you came in looking for Lin felt like first day of the rest of my life.  What did I ever do to deserve you even looking my way?  I’m just a grumpy asshole.  But you’ve lit up my life every day since you entered it.  

I didn’t know life could be so sweet until I met you, my Cookie.  

Te amo, princesa,

Pero

You read it three times.  So he did think what was said about you was horrible.  But then… why did he laugh with them?  At you?  You suppose that if he truly thought you as worthless as those men, he wouldn’t feel one way or another that you overheard.  Oh.  His feelings.  You look over those words in the letter again.  I love you.

I love you.

The words swim in your head and make you dizzy.  If he loved you, why did he never come to see you?  Beg for you to hear his side of the story?  Why did he let you think he was perfectly content for you to walk out of his life?  He loves you?

But you had loved him too, didn’t you?  Before that day, and if you’re honest with yourself, maybe even since.  You had loved how soft he would turn just for you.  Loved his passion, how dedicated he was at a job he clearly loved.  How he took every opportunity to make you feel special.  How he made you laugh.  How he showed you the core of who he was: generous, loyal, kind.  How he praised those exact traits in you. 

The rest of the afternoon is a blur, your mind full of Pero and your chest bubbling over with conflicting and confusing emotions.  At the first opportunity that presents itself, you clock out early, bid farewell to your co-workers, and walk as fast as you can to Pero’s building.  Opening the door with more force than necessary, you march straight up to Pero’s desk; he sits up straighter, surprised at your appearance.  You slap his letter down on his desk in front of him and practically yell, “You love me??!?” and promptly burst into tears, the whirlwind of feelings you’ve been holding in all day finally overwhelming you.

Pero is up on his feet in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you to his chest, hands stroking your hair and back in what he hopes is a soothing manner.  Slowly, never letting you go, he walks the two of you towards the front doors; once there, he locks each lock, including the ground pins, never letting his touch stray from your body, his gaze from your sad face.  Then tucking you under his shoulder and once again wrapping his arms around you as you continue to cry soft tears, he takes you upstairs.  As the elevator door opens, you hear Leah’s greeting cut short when she sees who it is.  She barely gets two words in, “Pero, what ha-,” before he very definitively orders, “Leah, send everyone home, please.  We’re not opening tonight.  Tell everyone they will be paid and to consider it a night off.”  His tone leaves no room for argument, and Leah leaves swiftly to carry out his orders.

All the wait staff who had been setting up the dining room for dinner service scatter upon you and Pero entering; he guides you to the back of the room and sits on a cushioned bench, gently pulling you down onto his lap.  You remained buried into his neck, letting him calmingly rub your neck, back and legs until your sobs subside.

When you finally lift your head and look at him, eyes still glassy with tears, Pero gently dries your wet cheeks with his thumbs before answering your question, “Yes, Cookie, I love you.”

“But why,” you feel another sob welling up from your chest, “… why did you never try to come see me?  Talk to me?  Why was I so easy to leave?”

“Oh fuck, Cookie,” Pero presses a soft kiss to your forehead as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry.  I should have.  I should have tried every day.  I should have begged on my knees.  I wanted to.  I just didn’t want to scare you or force you to see me if you hated me.  But it killed me.  I regret not trying everyday to get you back.  I’m sorry, baby.”

He tells you about not wanting to make you feel unsafe by showing up when you didn’t expect him, and you have to admit that that was quite thoughtful.  “And it wasn’t easy to be without you, princesa.  I’ve missed you every day.  Your laugh.  And your voice.  And all the sweet and funny things you say that brighten up my day.  Knowing that you were hurt and that I couldn’t do anything, I felt so fucking useless.”

You glace up at him, nervous and pitiful the way you whisper, “You laughed, Pero.”

Pero looks confused until you explain what you heard.  His eyes widen in comprehension, realizing that all this time, it wasn’t just the foul words that you had overheard that had hurt you, but the idea, the certainty, that he had felt the same way as those morons.  His heart drops to his stomach.  He cannot get down on his knees fast enough to beg your forgiveness.  Gently lifting you off his lap, he slides to the ground onto his knees and takes your hands, laying them on your lap clasped in his.

“Pero, you don’t have to…” this is unnecessary, you think.

But to Pero it isn’t unnecessary.  In fact, it’s entirely necessary that he assumes this position of reverence and humility.  His expression solemn but desperate as he explains, trying to walk you through the events that you only partially overheard.  Needing you to understand that the laughter you heard wasn’t conciliatory, but an uncontrolled outburst stemming from his own anger.  As he speaks, you feel as if you were there with him, feeling the rage he felt at you being disrespected and insulted vibrating through his hands.  When he finishes, Pero’s exhausted at having relived those moments; the fury he felt once again fresh in his chest, but this time paired with shame that he ever allowed you to go about your life thinking he had felt anything but love and veneration for you.  He lays his head on your hands, ready to receive whatever harsh judgment you rain down on him.  He deserves it.

When he feels your soft hands move to stroke his face and run gently through his hair, he looks up to see you gazing back at him softly, eyes filled with tears again, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry.”

Confused, he frowns a little, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Cookie.”

Shaking your head, you have to disagree, “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Pero.  You’ve shown me so many times how genuine and honourable you are, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt and let you explain rather than assuming the worst.  You deserved more from me.”

He can’t have this, you taking any blame for your own hurt; rising to his feet and pulling you up with him, he whispers, “I should have tried every day to explain.  To take better care of your heart.  You deserved more from me.”  Then he kisses you and your heart explodes; every emotion you feel: love, regret, relief, gratefulness, joy, all spill over and your lips desperately try to calligraph what you’re unable to say onto Pero’s.  He kisses you with the hunger and longing of a man far too long parched, one having just stumbled upon the oasis of your forgiveness. 

“How come Leah said we’re clos--,” William’s voice cuts through your dream-like bubble.  Pero looks up at his friend, who reads the situation for what it is immediately.  Your heart softens further upon seeing William, realizing you had misjudged him as well.  William is all smiles, his good nature not easily affected as he claps Pero’s shoulder and demonstrates happiness for his friend’s obvious joy. 

“If Leah can call everyone back, how about we still open, pay everyone double for the confusion, and I call in someone to cover the front door tonight?” offers William, and Pero easily assents with a nod of his head.

“Wait,” you say, pushing back slightly from Pero’s arms so you can look between both men, “…the two of you can just open or close the restaurant whenever you want?”

Pero and William glance at each other as you continue, “…and you make the pay decisions?  Like paying people for not working… or double?”

You look right at Pero, “And you have the authority to fire dishwashers and busboys?”

Pero takes a deep breath, “Cookie, there’s something I have to tell you.”

You’re looking at both him and William with such a high degree of incredulousness, Pero thinks that this is perhaps the first time he’s ever been on the receiving end of a look as stern as the ones he’s used to giving.  William looks sheepish and gives Pero a wide-eyed side glance that clearly says: Can’t help you, brother.  Sighing, Pero bites the bullet, “William and I… we’re not just the host and bouncer of Lin… we’re the owners.”

You take a step back and cross your arms, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows, silent while you take this in.

“The restaurant is named after Lin Mae, William’s wife… and it’s not the only restaurant we own.  We have a restaurant group in the city… and in a few other cities as well,” finishes Pero, afraid to meet your eye.

“Let me get this straight,” you say very deliberately and slowly, “you’re an internationally celebrated restauranteur… and you let me cook for you??!” You punch Pero hard in the arm before covering your face in embarrassment.

Both William and Pero chuckle and Pero rubs his big strong hands up and down your arms, soothingly, “I love your cooking, Cookie.”

Voice still muffled behind your hands, you sigh, “Don’t patronize me.”

“I would never, princesa,” Pero pulls you close and presses loving kisses to your temple, “Truly, I’ve loved everything you ever made me.”

“Your cookies are the best,” chimes in William, “my favourite were the salted caramel.”

You didn’t know Pero had shared your cookie bribes, but the fact that William’s favourite were Pero’s least makes you smile a little.

A new thought strikes you, “Is this why I’ve never been to your place?”

At this, Pero does look ashamed, “Oh Cookie, I’m sorry.  I knew if you saw my place, the jig would be up.”

You wave goodbye to William as you and Pero head to the locker room to grab his belongings before leaving; after Pero’s confessions today, you won’t make the mistake of assuming any ill intent on his part again, but you are curious, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I didn’t intend on keeping it from you, I swear,” says Pero, thoughtfully, “but I can’t say it wasn’t a little bit liberating to have you get to know just me, without all the bells and whistles.  It’s very rare to be seen for who I am, and not what I do or what I have.”

This, you can understand well, and you know Pero knows you do.  You snuggle in closer to him, listening to the steady beating of Pero’s heart for the whole of the elevator ride.  As you exit the building and walk towards his bike, Pero does apologize, “But I should have told you the truth sooner, Cookie.  I’m not sure why I didn’t, except that things were going well and I didn’t want anything to change.”

He looks a little like a wounded puppy, and you decide that the two of you have wasted enough time on regrets so you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him down for a deep, tender kiss. “You’re forgiven, Pero,” you purr into his mouth, “for everything.”

“Do you want to go to my place now?” Pero smiles against your lips.

Eyes brightening, you nod.  For some reason, going to Pero’s home for the first time feels like the start of a new beginning, and you can’t help but bounce a little in excitement as Pero lowers his helmet over your head.  The feeling of wearing a bike helmet, Pero’s helmet in particular, and getting ready to ride on the back of his bike again, drives home for you the realness of your reconnection.  You sigh in contentment as you anticipate the familiar hum of the motor beneath you.  Pero revels in a similar sentiment, unable to believe the good fortune that when he takes off tonight, it will once again be with the feeling of your arms wrapped snugly around his midsection.

Speeding past your apartment and riding further north, Pero eventually pulls into a garage beneath a luxury high-rise in one of the city’s most exclusive areas.  You chuckle when you realize it’s about a block away from where Dorothy lives.  During the elevator’s long ride up, you jokingly ask if Pero’s ever had any near misses with Dorothy in the neighbourhood, and his laughter while he shakes his head leads you to believe he has.

When the elevator doors open to a private foyer with only one locked doorway, you realize, he lives in the penthouse, the fucker!  Your breath is taken away the moment Pero opens his front door: floor to ceiling windows border the open concept space so you can admire a near 180 degree view of the city just from where you stand.  The room has a simple, modern aesthetic, but you’re not fooled by the minimalist look of the furniture – your keen eye can tell that everything in this room has been thoughtfully selected for its quality, fit and function.  Though understated, the luxurious feel of the décor is evident; everything has its place, fitting together elegantly.  You spy a few personal touches of Pero’s, including a model of a Ducati motorcycle that looks familiar even in its miniature form.  But what truly leaves you awestruck is the kitchen: the cabinets and appliances are primarily stainless steel, giving it a professional industrial look, but the accent surfaces of marble and white lacquer tie in the space with the rest of the apartment’s sleek feel.  It’s huge.  And well loved, you can tell.  You hungrily eye all the cool kitchen gadgets and appliances resting along the counter tops and the large marble island that centers the design.  Your mouth might water a little at the thought of all the delicious food that has been prepared here.

“Hungry, Cookie?” asks Pero, amused as if he can read your mind.

Turning towards him, you see how relaxed and at home he looks among all this understated luxury, and not for the first time, you find yourself stunned by how devastatingly handsome he is.  Throwing yourself at him, your mouth connects with his, open and willing, “Yes, Pero.  I’m hungry.”

After removing each others’ clothing in a frenzy, giggling while tossing garments behind and over furniture, flinging some to the far corners of the room, Pero gently lays you down on his plush carpet, ready to worship you.  He takes his time kissing and licking each line and curve of your body, reacquainting himself with every dip and valley, as if he could ever have truly forgotten their taste.  Each shudder and whimper he pulls from you a small victory for him that your body has missed him too. 

By the time Pero buries his face between your legs, you’re boneless and aching, a sticky mess already painting the inside of your thighs as you cry out for Pero to give you some relief.  Your hands tug and pull at his hair, your words drip with soft pleas, then desperate demands, but nothing with hurry Pero.  He’s on a mission to seek penance from your pussy and nothing will deter him.  Every lick and stroke of his tongue an apology, each flick and circle of your clit an atonement for his wrongs, his two, then three fingers curl inside you pleading for forgiveness.  You grant it with your back arched and your mouth open in a soundless scream, forgetting why you had ever even been apart.

When he finally enters you, it’s slow and sweet, arms bracing your head and fingers stroking your hair as he whispers words of love and praise.

“Missed you so much, Cookie.”

“Feel so good around me, princesa.  Never going to leave this perfect cunt again.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Your eyes never leave his, even when they fill with tears.  He just feels so good.  And you missed him so much.  Now he’s yours again.  He was always yours.  And he loves you.  And you love him, too.  You sing it so he knows.

It’s slow and sweet, until it’s not.  The urgency of Pero’s thrusts is accompanied by the crushing of his lips to yours.  As your tongues dance, your fingers do the same on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the summit.  Every drive of Pero’s hips bottoms him out deep in your cunt, the force of which you absorb with pleasure, crying out for more, more, more.  He gladly delivers - he’ll never deny you anything ever.  So long as you remain his, everything that’s his is yours for the taking, “Take it, princesa.  Take my cock like the good girl you are.”  You do as he commands, taking it all until you come, clenching down so hard on his length that Pero’s own fall isn’t far behind.  Both still panting and lightheaded from your twin highs, you hold each other close with Pero softening inside you, kissing and whispering I love you until you both come back down to Earth. 

---

Padding into Pero’s kitchen wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts, you wrap your arms around Pero’s waist as he lifts the cookies from the baking sheet with a spatula.  Handing you a warm cookie, he watches you in anticipation as you take a bite.  The reversal of your roles from when you first met not lost on him.

The sweet taste on your tongue is heavenly, “10/10.  Ginger molasses, my favourite,” you beam, “This tastes a lot like the one at the restaurant.”

“Of course it does, Cookie,” Pero answers, as if it’s obvious.  He continues to transfer the remaining cookies to the cooling rack, “Who do you think gave the recipe to the kitchen?  I had them start to bake them a while ago.  Just wanted to have something at the restaurant that reminded me of you.”

“That so sweet,” you coo, reaching for a second cookie.

“And maybe subconsciously I thought, bake it and she will come.”

Munching down on the sweet treat, you quip, “You really have Joanna to thank you that.  She’s the one who wanted to come to Lin today.”

“I mean, if we’re going to get technical about it, the person I really have to thank is Dorothy, since she’s the one who wanted to eat at Lin in the first place,” shrugs Pero.

“Should I invite her over?” you giggle, only half joking.

“Why not?  But maybe put some pants on first,” chuckles Pero, as he turns to clean the dirty baking tools in the sink.

Giggling as you head to Pero’s closet to find a pair of sweatpants, you type out a message on your phone: Dorie, you’ll never guess where I am!

2 years later

“… the bride was a vision in custom off the shoulder, full length Vera Wang.  The bridesmaids wore matching vintage Gucci from Tom Ford’s 1996 collection.  Not to be outdone, the groom, elusive restauranteur Pero Tovar, impressed in his custom black and white Zegna tuxedo.  Guests were in for a special surprise and honour; the reception of the joyous nuptials was held in the restaurateur’s newest addition to his culinary empire with the celebrations serving as the restaurant’s private opening.  Per a statement from the groom and his business partner, William Garin’s representatives, the restaurant, which will have its public opening following the happy couple’s honeymoon, is named ‘Mi Galleta’ as a gift to his new wife.”

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #modern!pero tovar #modern au #no y/n

[deaneverafter]

Carrion Comfort

Episode thoughts dropping 2 days late because I was too busy having Emotions™️ and rewatching the episode? More likely than you'd think 💖🤣

I've said this before, and I'll say it again, I am really, really loving the episode cases, and the vibes that come along with them. This episode especially was so creepy! Everyone say thank you, Jensen Ackles 🥂

The car scene.

The way Beau was looking at Jenny before asking her if she's okay says so much 🥺 He's so worried 😭 I can't wait for him to realize he's fallen for her 💕

Right after the walkthrough of the crime scene.

I love how Beau's clearly been working to help make the whole department run smoothly, make everyone feel useful and appreciated, he's such a good boss ✊🏻

Precinct scene.

Cassie Dewell, aka, the only Cass I know 😊 And she wouldn't leave her friends for dead because they didn't return her feelings 💛

I want to see Beau's 10 year old photo for the department website (and I want someone to acknowledge that it doesn't look 10 years older, because he looks the same) 💖

Cassie watching Beau and Jenny flirt and bicker like a married couple, like 👀😏 She ships it 💫 Love a supportive best friend, who just wants her two friends to have happiness and love in their lives 🥺

"Is that a werewolf? That's a first for me." Bestie- 🥺💖 Jensen bringing Dean with him everywhere he goes, and I'm on the floor in my feels, sobbing 😌💟

Ugh, Carla.

Carla divorced Beau which means that he's not obligated to tell her anything or practice his "communication skills" with her 🙄 The entitlement is real. Truly canNOT stand this woman, she's so mean and passive aggressive and dismissive towards Beau, as well as condescending and rude towards Jenny 😒 She really came in and insulted both my favourite people in the span of one and a half minute, oh, and yeah, remember when she broke Beau's whole heart? And continues to make him feel small and sad? Yeah, to say I don't like her is an understatement.

Jenny defending Beau against Carla was such a nice moment, and just another reason she's the best, and why her and Beau are the perfect match. She actually cares about him, respects and understands him. Next time Carla is being rude and mean, I hope she doesn't care about being polite and wipes the floor with Carla. Would also love to see her about to punch her, and then Beau holds her back, because he can't have his undersheriff getting charged and we get another unintentionally intimate moment, before he cheekily thanks her for defending his honour 💅🏻💖

Here's to hoping something dramatic happens before Emily comes to stay with Beau, to prevent it, I can't stomach even the thought of putting up with her insulting and dismissing Beau for a whole episode 😣😒 And him spending the whole episode looking heartbroken and sad and on the verge of tears 😭

Big Sky, Season 2, Episode 18, Catch a Few Fish

Jenny: and lemme guess, you're still in love with her

Beau: 😐😶

Big Sky, Deadly Trails, Season 3, Episode 4, Carrion Comfort

Jenny: you're still in love with her

Beau: No, I'm not. No. Stop it.

And I, for one, believe him. Especially since I'm still trying to understand what he saw in her in the first place. She's so mean!

Also, Jenny once again trying to gauge Beau's feelings for someone else by teasing him? Just for fun, no reason whatsoever? Just out of curiosity? 👀 Mm-mm, she wants to know if her heart will be safe with him if she lets herself fully fall (because deep down she's already fallen, all that's left to do is admit it) 😌

Glamping Shenanigans.

Full offense, but I'd much rather watch more about Luke and Paige and their past (criminal?) activities, than Emily whining and sticking her nose where it doesn't belong every episode. Paige and Luke aren't likable at all, but they ARE interesting. Emily is annoying AND boring. And she keeps getting exponentially more obnoxious every episode.

Cassie and Cormac.

They are my, er, second "one" true pairing (after Jenny/Beau, of course). I really wasn't expecting to ship someone with Cassie this soon after Lindor after they broke up right after getting together after a one and a half season long burn, but I am rooting for these two for sure 👌🏻

Donno and Tonya.

Am I finding myself shipping Tonya and Donno or......? I mean, I could definitely be okay with them just being friends and partners, but...... I don't know, it could be tipped over to romance very easily 👀

Sunny and Walt.

Wow, Walt really had me feeling bad for a minute there, I was like, damn, he did kill Mark, but maybe he didn't mean to......? But nah, this man is full-on Menace in the Woods 😱🔪 And I would not be surprised if Sunny and Walt became a full on killing team, they're both so unhinged! 💯

The Cutter House. Part I.

Beau patting Jenny on the shoulder entering the house had no tactical reason, so I just love that they're such a team, so concerned for each other, that he did it to reassure her he's there, he's okay, he's got her back 🥺💕

The Cutter House. Part II, aka, The Scene™️.

Them fighting the killer, Beau and Jenny are so badass and such a perfect team 💅🏻

Beau fighting to protect himself versus Beau after the creep attacked Jenny, he was much more intense during the latter, I love the increased intensity and drive. He really said no one touches my girl 😡 and I love that 💖💕💫

Every time she thinks Beau got hurt, Jenny gets so worried, everything else loses focus. She rushed to him, completely forgetting the suspect, and if that's not love... 💕 and how gentle she is checking his wound, touching it so gingerly 🥺 True loveism 💝💖

It's so perfect how in sync they are, Beau knew he could count on Jenny to know why he'd turned her around, and Jenny trusted him and instinctually knew why, she realized exactly what he was doing. And him, physically having her back, holding her steady 🥺💝 Plus, the way it ended with them holding on to each other 💯 They're so sexy for that 🔥💕

There's also a moment where it looks like Beau might've been reaching for Jenny's hand, so maybe one of the takes had them shooting together and I'd love to see that outtake, though I do love how it actually played out, with complete trust and them in sync 🥺

I also love how they just stay in this position just a minute longer than necessary, letting themselves be support for the other, letting themselves take comfort from the other, just breathing together for a moment 🥺💟

Also, is it just me or did Jenny just absolutely melt back into Beau once they both knew the danger was averted? 🥺💖 I love the trust they have. And the 💫 tension 💫

And this moment when they're both still breathless, and Beau feels the intimacy of the situation and Jenny just leans back into him, when he's finally looking at her, I think he's realizing he's fallen for her, irrevocably 🥺💕

I just, I love this scene a lot. And I really love that the scene is so warm and wholesome with their trust and teamwork, but also really hot and has a lot of tension! It's everything to me, and I just love how it was written and played so well, such a perfect balance of emotional vulnerability and display of feelings, and physical tension 🥺💖

The Hospital Scene.

Jenny reassuring Beau about how good of a dad he is 🥺 He deserves to be around people who appreciate and respect him so much 💛

The more episodes go by without Beau calling her "Jenny" and only "Hoyt", even though he called her Jenny during the premiere, the more I become convinced that he's already in love, but denying it to himself (until he just can't 👀). Although, he didn't call her Hoyt after the fight scene, might that be more evidence my man's catching on to how he feels about Jenny.....? 🥺👀

Beau, my beloved.

Beau really is the whole package. Kind, funny, handsome, caring & THIS good at his job? His instincts about the murder not being random were right, and when he was looking at the photos, his gut knew it was important, even when he didn't have all the pieces to know why 🏆💯🥰❤

He used to build houses in the summers? And knows about antiques? I love a multitalented and multifaceted king 🥺 I want to hear more about his backstory, his parents/siblings, his hobbies, what he likes to do in his free time. Just, more about him in general. I truly do love him with my whole heart 💖

"Wow, Beau was extra handsome and charming this episode 🥰❤" <- me after literally every single episode 🤣

#Beau Arlen #Jensen Ackles #Jenny Hoyt #Katheryn Winnick #Beau Arlen x Jenny Hoyt #Big Sky #Big Sky: Deadly Trails #Big Sky State of Mind

[ivansergeyevichturgenev]

reasons i'm considering leaving my job before i graduate, all taken from today:

(under a readmore bc i'm being driven borderline insane and the fact i took the time to write this out probably makes me crazy)

- a table that didn't understand why their reservation of 4 didn't guarantee them a table for 5. their children were entitled brats and shoved their menus in my face. i asked them multiple times if they need x, y, or z. they told me no to my face but would wave me down screaming ma'am!!! ma'am!!!! we need this NOW!!! like five times. and btw, they weren't things i could have anticipated. how was i supposed you needed a tonic with your dinner? finally, they pay, but the woman claims i never gave her a receipt to sign. i thought that was weird because it automatically prints and i would never not give someone their receipt? anyways i reprint it for her and she says in the most condescending tone, "it's okay. we all make mistakes" guess where the receipts were? in the fucking floor. at her feet.

- had a 6 top. they order apps immediately but say they need time on drinks. i get their drinks. they order a wine to come with dinner. i was going to bring it a little before but they said NO. it was to come with DINNER. not at all before. okay, got it. you're not getting your wine until dinner is on the table 🙄 like i get it but also this is not that type of restaurant i do not have a super small section to give completely perfect service. actually, we're incredibly short staffed tonight bc one server didn't feel well and all of the high schoolers forgot to ask off and all called out before their shifts. so my apologies. a couple at the table ordered a salad to share before dinner. they each got steaks. now, dear reader, i need you to know something: work in this industry long enough and you will realize that people will go off their fucking rocker to suggest that soup and salad can come any time than before their meal. salads and soups are starters unless otherwise specified. i heard them say we'll get a salad to start. anyways, salad comes out, i notice they aren't touching it. i ask what's wrong. they say it was supposed to come with dinner. who the fuck is ordering a salad with their dinner, unless they ordered several apps or a side. they ordered full meals. i gave people round two of silver because i could tell they wanted new silver which was fine. that included soup spoons for the man who did actually order soup for dinner and his wife because he said they were sharing. well dinner comes and he doesn't understand why everyone doesn't have a spoon to share his soup. what? WHAT? oh also, i did their bottle service right after their food arrived. same man, (not even the one who ordered it), demanded to know where it was. Um, coming. since you said you wouldn't have it until food was on the table? the one actually egregious thing i did to these people was i broke a glass on their table. never in my life had i done this before. i profusely apologized, cleaned it up, and comped some of their desserts. upon leaving, this man finds my boss to tell me how awful i was from the salad to the wine to the fact their empty wine glasses were on the table too long for his liking? but they still had a little bit of wine in the bottle. i did take them once i realized okay they were done but like? they just seemed very difficult. and i pride myself on giving each guest a great experience. but the glass breaking didn't even make it until his spiel about how awful i was. sorry i'm not a mind reader! sorry this isn't fine dining! nobody told you to spend over $500 at this restaurant where we wear jeans and t shirts! plus my bottle service was literally spotless.

- i totally have an ear infection that i can't do anything about until monday bc i do not have urgent care money. i am in pain and contemplated yelling this at the above people because the restaurant industry is a shitshow in this country and it only functions by not paying its waitstaff and not giving anyone benefits. feel free to explain insurance shit to me but i have never once been able to go to urgent care and not receive a $1000 bill so my ass won't be going! the people who serve you fine wine and good food often come into work sick and in pain because we can't fucking afford not to.

- what is even crazier is the fact that the other half of my tables wrote rave reviews about me, claiming i was a wonderful server. so i know i wasn't on my a game tonight bc i felt like shit, but it cannot all possibly be me.

[ursbearhug]

I'm gonna bite somebody.

It's upsetting me how everybody will be say shit like "well, people don't owe you their time and attention just because we have smartphones on us 24/7 bla bla bla", clealry missing my point when I complain about people being unreachable.

You know what's the difference between your boss expecting you to be under your phone 24/7 just in case you need to pull extra hours and cover for somebody and me desperately wanting to talk to my friend for over 15 months now? No?

Look, I very rarely expect people to respond to me immediately. Heck, more often than not I'm positively suprised when they manage to respond to me the same day if not the same week. For the most part, I'm not dealing with shit so important that people absolutely HAVE to respond to me immediately. I care about my friends and their well being. I care about keeping my friendships in pristine condition. I cannot do either when our only way of keeping in touch is in that unreliable, technologically inept, metal piece of shit.

Normally, I'd playing it cool and be like "well my galaxy brain uwu take is..." but I'm gonna be completely frank and upfront and say that I'm fucking pissed off and tried. I don't have strength in me to pretend I care, when reality is I was through trying back in June. 3 different messages, across 3 different platforms and 7 unanswered phone calls. What else can I fucking do? Send a pigeon? Message in a bottle? Smoke signals?

My dear friendship is sliping through my fingers because clearly, I'm the only one giving a shit.

And there still will be bitches telling me how entitled I act. How much more space and time can one fucking need? I'm a minority on this, but it's not like I ever give a fuck, but I'm really done with the "sometimes people are not in the mental headspace to talk" nonsense bit. Because it's lifting all of the blame for failed communication from the person refusing to communicate. If I was told "hey, I'm gonna go fuck off for 15 months, do you mind not talking to me at all during that time, kthxbye" there would be no conversation to be held. But no. I'm supposed to figure out, which out of 60 minutes in 24 hours in 7 days in 4 weeks in 12 months am I allowed to talked to somebody? Or the reason for their elusive period? Miss me with that nonsense. Healthy headspace or not, you're fixing a lot of issues and making it transparent when you simply communicate your need to withdraw and recollect, or tell somebody you're busy, or fuck it, even tell somebody they stink and you're not interested in keeping in touch with them anymore. But then again, no. Why would anyone do that? # mental health awerness week, free out-of-jail card, I'm not gonna communicate or establish any boundaries, I'll just politely fuck off, you figure out the rest. I'm not playing that game.

And I know exactly how it is when out of sight means out of mind. If you're prone to forgetting shit, maybe counteract, instead of letting more and more things slip through?

It takes exactly 10 seconds responding to any given messege in any given way and going back to your emo catatonia (and I would know) but nobody's going to do that. Being bothered is just not in the cards when being mysterious and unattainable is the top priority.

She could have at least made an effort to let me know she's alive, but I guess even that is asking for too much.

All these satellites and computers just to perfect the ability to talk to oneself.

#percy does things #will delete later

[thosebrookfieldgirls]

Just had an interesting thought. What Disney villain aligns with some or all of the girls more negative personality traits? I discussed this with a friend over vc. For Lizzie (the MC of crossover fic I'm cowriting with a friend) is most like the Evil Queen due to her being petty, selfish, jealous and vindictive. She said Addie is like a mixture of Hades and Jafar due to her being kinda sassy, manipulative, and her toxic girl boss tendencies. (Honestly, I can also see her being like Deadpool in a superhero AU, and the fact that her and Ryan Reynolds are both Canadian also adds to that. But he's not an animated Disney character and is more of an antihero, so that doesn't count.) Also, I find it funny, since their dark sides mirror the Great Seven figure that their love interests are twisted from...minus Hades, I guess. xD

After much deliberation... I believe I have some. I stuck with the actual villains not antagonists for this one to show off the bad bad traits and not characters flaws.

Val- as a whole in Thorns and Ink id say her wishy washy/all or nothing attitude to things is her biggest flaw which I feel is very similar to Madam Mim from Sword in the Stone. She's very much not above changing the rules to suit her needs and wants, even if that isn't fair to others. (Something we're going to get to see 10 fold in Roses and Blank Pages thanks to previously unseen factors)

Kris- Hopper from Bugs Life. She very much finds security in the status quo and is terrified from veering from it and acknowledging people can be different. Would rather force people into the boxes she's assigned them because it feels safer then letting people in.

Anne- ironically Maleficent, since that is about the same level of spite and petty that Anne can be when she feels like someone slighted her. You can't tell me Anne wouldn't curse a baby out of spite if she was Maleficent, you just can't.

Jude- I wasn't going to say Jafar at first because Jude can keep her know-it-all attitude in check sometimes... and then I remembered Jafar said 'bet' when Aladdin dared him to become a Genie and got himself trapped in a lamp and I feel that is something Jude would do if I was honest. (Not disney but also Pitch Black for his comment about ignoring Jack cause that also feels like Jude)

Kim- Evil Queen or Mother Gothal. Both for the sheer amount of weight she puts into looks and appearance. A little more Evil Queen because of what she did to Jude's costume

Eva- She gives me Yzma with her level of annoyed "I'm smarter then everyone here" attitude. Like sometimes I swear I can feel the 'no one appreciates me in my time' and 'you are all peaking in high school' from her without having to even write it. If that isn't Yzma idk what is

Fiona- this one was hard cause out of all the other girls I would say she's the most morally good instead of grey. Maybe Pete from Toy Story 2? Mostly cause she's she is the kind of person that thinks you aren't entitled to set boundaries after people do things for you and if you do your ungrateful. Like I worry for what Crowley could have talked her into doing if the other girls weren't there to tell him to shove it.

#twisted wonderland #twst #thorns and ink

[sashastarlight]

Day off finally :3

I'm so tired and ubset and pissy.

I guess I'm driving for two hours to get half my meds

Since my medical team can't, after 3 pharmacy requests, web portal requests, a long phone call and fax, and 3 personal messages to my doctor seem to secure just 5 mins for my doctor to write out scripts I'm cleared for I've been taking for years, literally my PCP I am just. I am just so excited to get home tonight after spending my whole day on this just to receive the message that they are finally conveniently ready at the worst time after two weeks of painful and shitty withdrawal. If it were just my HRT that is one thing, no this is antianxiety and antidepressants on a full dosage. Something you are suppose to go through 2-3 dosage reductions to ween off. Not just fucking stop when you are working 40 hour weeks back to back. Worse even the fucking pharmacy is hounding me to come pick up my meds despite half my order being unfilled.

Not to go full feral needy see your boss entitled customer about this. I GET IT. I worked in the medical industry, I literally worked helping with the same tech issues they are moving through. Things get really messy when you transferring over entire electronic systems. There are more important life saving priorities. But delaying medication refill for this fucking long is life threatening for me at this point. I've injured myself maybe 4 times in the last two weeks, nearly second degree burns, from how groggy my dexterity can be. Almost as much as I've gotten hurt on the job over the previous year. Just to show how out of sorts I am. Yet I have to Drive daily, I have to operate heavy and hot machinery daily, my ability to handle and digest stress is debilitating my ability to exceed at my job, which right now literally is my whole future and my life I have going for me. Since everything else is dead and in the past.

Ughh I'm sorry I just need to rant, I can't physically handle this much longer without just having breakdowns.

There are big positive notes here, I am really truly becoming much happier in my life. This fiasco is just hell and I need it to end before body boils my damn brain alive in its own fluids.

A best friend of mine took me out to dinner the other night because she could just tell how off key and struggling I was and Goddess. I just realized how many people weren't listening and brushing this shit off and I wish they could cognitively re-experience those little decisions and moments and then feel all of this crazy shit I've had my faced dragged through over the last two weeks just so they could understand. Like is it really that hard to think about others? I don't get it. I think about every last human being who walks through my coffee shop. I think about their day and how they are doing. I see when someone needs another person to reach out and I do so in the Fing coffee business. Not to mention the providing people with life saving, life changing medications business.

Ughhhhhhh, I can't wait until shits figured out and I don't have to deal with this garbage

Anyway this post was suppose to be about going to get a cup of coffee and saying it would be nice if any of my other friends had Thursday off to go get coffee with me idk, I'm just gonna go cry in my car for two hours~

#personal #sasha #;3; #me #tw meds #tw withdrawal #tw rant #tw medical

[redeyedryu]

Man. It has been a rough week.

So glad it’s the weekend.

#Red Rambles #Red Vents #See: crying at work and having an anxiety attack because people can't handle not being coddled and immediately go crying to your boss #who then comes at you and any trust and security you had in that working relationship is immediately destroyed #because do they actually value you as a worker? Any more than they do this entitled customer? #it's frustrating because it's not that asshole that I was crying about but what the whole situation winds up triggering #cue self doubt and loathing oh BOI #Seriously. It all came to a head because the guy was offended and MISINTERPRETED ME saying I demanded he paid for his metal plate #before I allowed him to take it into the frame shop for the project he was working on #I SHIT YOU NOT. in the time it took me to grab my lunch in the back office and walk to the front office and offer my coworker chocolate #my boss showed up and was breathing down my neck #i mean sure it was cleared and she talked to them and told them to suck it up and stop being a baby #but once again #here we are with the assumption that wow I must hate you because I have a low deadpan voice and am very strict with following rules #Sorry not sorry that I don't pander to your whining #According to dad (who works in the same squadron n deals w/ the same customers as me) my reputation's indeed how strict and unyielding i am #I guess people are intimidated by this and Don't Like It™ #See: don't like me and try to flop it and say *I* don't like *them* #which... yeah at this point... rest assured that it's not that I don't like you--I now hate you #and then we had a very poorly (see: not at all) planned meeting about the current state of the world and to discuss our Feels™ #a meeting between various facilities and leadership for clarification--not just my work #Yeah no I'm not talking about this stuff with these people don't make me laugh #especially not two people in leadership positions who have directly negatively impacted and fucked with my family #you have got to be out of your got damn tree #I'm so tired and stressed #I'm sorry I haven't really been active or doing much lately #I slept for 14 hours the other night because I was just so drained #Mark me down as tired of being tired

[procrastinatorimagines]

Interrogation

Fandom: Chicago PD

Series: One Shot

Pairing/s: Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: mentions of coercive/manipulative behaviour

Word Count: 1093

Summary: Hi, I would like to request a Chicago PD imagine with the whole team. The reader is known to be quiet and shy, but that ends while they are in interrogation and the suspect talks about the team being pathetic, which leads to the reader bashing their face on the table. And the team being VERY shocked and amused.

It was not your day. In the three years you'd been working with Intelligence you'd never become so emotionally invested in a case, but this one...

The victim reminded you of, well, you. She was shy, quiet, always first to her job because she felt like she had something to prove, like she thought at any minute someone higher up would question what she was even doing there in the first place.

You'd felt like that since you became a detective, let alone got chosen to be a member of Intelligence. And the victim's new boss had taken advantage of her doubt, taken advantage of her, and now she was missing, and the clock was ticking to find her.

You all knew the dirtbag before you in interrogation knew where she saw, the smug prick had had a sly grin plastered on his face since he'd arrived that said he knew we knew, but there was nothing we could do about it. He hadn't even lawyered up; said he knew his rights and would represent himself if he needed to.

"We already know you were the last person to see Emily in the office," Ruzek was saying, leaning over the tablet from where he was standing and sighing. You'd all taken turns in the box with this guy, it had been hours, and still he had that damn grin...

"I often work late, and so does she, is being dedicated to your job a crime now?" He asked, cocking his head and giving you a long look that made your skin crawl. He was trying to rattle you without saying a word, you knew that, he'd sussed who the weakest link was in the room and was trying to assert dominance.

You straightened from where you had been leaning against the the two-way mirror, folding your arms and trying to steal your resolve.

"According to CCTV you exited the building seconds after her heading in the same direction," you added for Ruzek, watching his patience start to thin. You were feeling the same.

"So we parked close together, is that a crime now?" He replied, yet again. That's all we had been doing for everyone, asking if what he had been doing was a crime - all just a coincidence, he'd been explaining, try getting a jury to convict based on circumstantial evidence.

"Now we're just going in circles," Ruzek grumbled, turning from where he had been stud to run a hand over his tired face.

"No, now you're just going in circles, I've been answering your questions all night," he shrugged, "maybe if you were better at your jobs..."

You clenched your jaw. He'd said that deliberately - you knew from Emily's co-worker's he'd said that to her whenever she'd turned in a piece of work that didn't meet his unobtainable expectations.

"But, well, you aren't. This whole situation has been a witch-hunt from the start, find the most successful person you can find and pin the crime on him, the higher profile the better right?" He laughed in a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, "I feel sorry for the mouse- Emily, sorry, I really do, but it's survival of the fittest out there in the world, and I guess she just didn't cut it."

You could not believe what you were hearing, the entitlement making your blood boil. 'Mouse' had been his office nickname for her, because he'd just to intimidate her so much when she tried to speak up sometimes her works would come out as a squeak.

"That's enough," you said to him, your voice quieter than you'd hoped.

"Sorry, what was that?" He put his hand to his ear for dramatic effect. "I didn't quite catch that? Do you have anything relevant to add or..."

You scoffed and shook your head as Ruzek clenched his fists.

"We know it was you," you tried and he laughed.

"Oh sure, but where's your proof? You call yourself good police? From everything I've seen sweetheart, let's just say I don't think this unit should be called the 'intelligence' unit," he shot back, causing Ruzek to laugh at the sheer audacity of the man seated before him.

"This is all just fun to you isn't it?" You asked in disbelief - a woman's life hung in the balance, if she was even still alive, and this guy was just toying with you.

"Absolutely," he fixed his attention solely on you now, "I like having fun, Emily, bless her, she could actually be pretty fun when given incentive, and as for this interrogation? Well, let's just say you remind me of her, feebly grasping at straws to try and what, prove yourself? You and your whole little team, just a bunch of pathetic-"

Slam.

One second he'd been talking, the next his face had connected with the table. It took you a second to process the fact that it was you, and not Ruzek, with your hand on the back of the man's head. You'd found yourself inching closer as he'd droned on, the blood rushing to your ears until you couldn't hear much of anything, the rage you felt drowning it out.

You released him quickly, eyes wide, and for the first time he kept his mouth shut, looking genuinely shocked. Ruzek did too when you turned to face him.

Oh crap, you thought, turning and quickly exiting the interrogation room. You'd never done that before, you shouldn't have done that at all, oh god...

Another door opened, this one to the viewing room, and Voight and Kevin stepped out.

"Damn girl," Kevin said, actually sounding impressed.

"I second that," said a voice behind you. Turning you saw Ruzek exit behind you, looking more than a little amused.

"I did not think you had that in you," Kevin chuckled slightly.

"I don't know what happened, I just-" you began to try and explain, feeling yourself go red at both the situation and the attention.

"Oh, we've all been there," Ruzek reassured you, and you knew he definitely had.

"What now?" You asked, knowing there would be consequences, surely.

"Now," Voight said, speaking up for the first time since it had happened, "we go have a chat in my office."

You gulped and nodded, wordlessly walking in that direction, head down.

The whole situation had left you feeling conflicted and guilty, and so you avoided Voight's eye. If you hadn't, you would have seen that he wasn't mad at all, but actually very proud.

#chicago pd #one chicago #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead #hailey upton #adam ruzek #kim burgess #kevin atwater #hank voight #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagines #one chicago imagines #one shot

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. lo hades def looks like he's into crypto, you know what I mean? especially bc you cant be taxed on it, the richer the better!

2. This isnt even just LO but why do so many of the romance comics have such a desire to sexualize barly legal young women who are of COURSE naive virgins (but also super sexy and horny and know how to flirt out of the blue!) and try and make us root for them to get into relationships with their Christian Grey knock-off bosses?? like Let's Play (spoilers I guess) thought it'd be funny to have the MC be in physical PAIN after having sex, like why are you showing your teen audience this???

3. Nah I feel the same way as other anon. LO is way too confused on whether it's a light hearted YA story or a serious drama for Mature™️ readers. Like the SA and (one) therapy session was more or less handled perfectly fine, but everything from the AOW to the Trial is either incredible goofy or tries way too hard to be "serious" with RS and her team both not putting the writing nor art skill into it to hold any weight. It just comes across as melodramatic and try-hard over genuine and well planned

4. There's so many "quirks" in LO's art that are bad but WHY is it a thing where when a character is just standing there their arms and legs are just glued to the side of their bodies like🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️🧍? that's not how even soliders at attention stand, there's still bones and muscles to account for but they end up with that end product? I just do not get how her and her team have probably 50+ years of art education and practice between them and yet they fail on such basic concepts every time.

5. I for one think that the differences between how characters slapping each other is depicted as either good or bad depending on who’s doing the slapping isn't hypocritical of RS: Hecate slaps Hades because she thinks he’s being predatory towards Persephone, this is a well-intentioned slap. Minthe’s slap on the other hand, is not justifiable because she was in the wrong in the context of that conflict: you don’t get to just stand your boyfriend up and hit him when he’s hurt by it.

6. it's just funny WT itself has a posting rule that your comic "cant show topics like incest or grooming" as if thats not the majority of the romance genre itself. yall ever read eggnoid? cmon now.

7. punderworld made a myth rec list and go figure some lo fans were in the comments saying "LO was all [they] needed" and its like how would you even know this episode happened unless you were subbed to punderworld, therefore proving they keep up with other myth comics? also the creator got upset at the lo fans being mad she didnt also rec LO as if its not the most advertised series on that whole site and she was promoting smaller creators. LO fans are so entitled even to other creators it's crazy.

8. I think the issue with the “let people like things” argument (and the fans do this so much) is that I’m All for that, I and every other critic isnt saying you can’t like, hell there’s parts of it I do like and wish there was more of! But if you go “just let people enjoy things!!” when it comes to legitimate criticism (ie misogyny, racism, classism, mishandling of trauma and assault to push a romance along, etc) you don’t care about others opinions, you just want them to like YOUR thing.

9. we already know rachel is a weeb but it's most obvious when it's a kissing scene because she does NOT draw lips but all of a sudden they get huge and glossy when theyre about to smooch but nothing else about the face adjusts with it and it's like what the hell is that 😭

10. i honestly dont blame lo fans for buying books of it even if the quality of it degrades rapidly after vol 1, once it ends (maybe in five years at this rate) webtoons will right away put it on daily pass which is notoriously a bad venue for rereads/new readers who missed when it was originally published and given how rachel has no sense of less is more, itll cost hundreds of dollars just to read the current 190+ episodes, much the many more shell milk out of it. might as well avoid that now 😵‍💫

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical

[luna-rainbow]

There's a line in the latest What If ep that's been bugging me. At the end before going back to her timeline Peggy initially wants to go back to the 40s, and tells the Watcher "haven't I earned my happy ending?"

I've been trying to put my finger on just what it is about this that bugs me so much. I guess maybe it's because it comes across as very entitled? Like there are so many people throughout all these universes who have suffered so horribly and yet the writers suggest that Peggy is the one who has earned a happy ending, or that being with Steve is the ONLY possible happy ending she could ever have, because screw originality right? Peggy will never be happy without her boyfriend and it honestly sucks for the character because she's trapped living in both Steve's shadow and as his love interest.

Ah you see, it’s lines like these that make annoyed at the existence of Peggy, and it almost has very little to do with her character, but rather the writing.

My reading of that line is it’s supposed to convince the audience that going back to the 40’s and getting back with the person you briefly shared an almost-fling with is “the happy ending”. Who else had this happy ending? Yeah. It feels like a(nother) desperate attempt to right the wrong that was EG!Steve’s ending. See, even though Peggy is a strong independent woman now enhanced, she also wants to go back in time, so much she thinks all the heroism she’s done so far (I don’t know what she’s done cos I haven’t watched it) is supposed to be some sort of service in exchange of this reward for going back in time - which rather diminishes her heroism, I would think, but then I don't know the context of how this quote was spoken.

On the other hand, this is another reason why forcing Peggy’s story into Steve’s doesn’t work. Peggy - apart from her gender - actually has more reason to go back to the 40s than Steve. Unlike Steve, who had no family and whose best friend is in the present, who actually had very little roots in the past - Peggy has a family, she had an affluent background and a good education, she ended up having a husband (who was not Steve - but whatever), arguably going back to the 40s she will still end up going into SHIELD and becoming its director. She had a good life, despite all the restrictions placed on her gender. That was her golden timeline. Meanwhile EG!Steve had gone back to nothing and would have to continue to amount to nothing in that timeline for it to not be disturbed. To argue that Peggy wanted to go back to the past would justify Steve going back to the past is completely erroneous, because their situation was completely different. Peggy would go back to becoming the girl boss she was, Steve went to a life of anonymity, meaninglessness and injustice.

Thinking back on the first episode, the other scene that really irked me was how she was so elated by the serum’s powers when she fought for the first time. At the time I sort of compared it to Peter Parker and thought, okay, fine, she’s “cutely” excited. But she’s not a teenager, and she never gets his character defining journey, which is - with great power comes great responsibility. Steve was defined by the same principle (which is why MCU!Spidey is ridiculous and EG!Steve made no sense). The serum gave Steve strength and he was chosen because Erskine knew he would be responsible and diligent with it. Peggy has always been in a relatively powerful role, and that elation, that joy of overpowering your opponents, of being thrilled by crushing people weaker than you…

Girl that’s a villain origin story.

#anti peggy carter #asks

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (2/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Warning: Sexual assault, mention of an anxiety attack.

Word Count: 1641

It turns out you definitely can't do this. Working in retail sucks, majorly. Customers are so awful to you and other employees as well. You didn't make the products, you don't control the prices, then why should you listen to them rant about it all day?

This job was from 9 am to 4 pm, which reminded you a lot of your previous job. By the time you got home, you were exhausted mentally and physically. Your current schedule was eerily similar to your previous lifestyle, which left you with no time to work on your book.

You felt like you were stuck in an insufferable loop that you just can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try. You thought about Mr. Barnes a lot, too. If only you weren't so egoistic and been a little nicer, then maybe you could have had that job.

With each passing day, you were becoming desperate. The only reason why you didn't run to Mr. Barnes a week ago was your pride. A pride that would not let you bow down to that rude, egoistic asshole.

It's like the universe could hear your thoughts and the devil himself walked through the doors of the store. Fuck, he can't see you here. He's going to think you're some nut job who's chasing stupid dreams after having an excellent degree. At least that's what your parents think.

You were about to run and hide behind an aisle when the voice you knew too well called out for you.

"Hey, do you know where I could find-"

"You," He said, without an emotion. "What are you doing here?"

You pointed towards the badge with the name tag on your shirt and mouthed working.

"Why?"

"Why?" You pretended to think, "I don't know, I interviewed for this other job about a week ago, but the boss was an ass."

"You lied to me," he stated as if it wasn't the most obvious thing.

"Gee, sorry, dad."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what again?" You questioned.

" Diverging a question with a joke," He answered with an unaffected tone like he was studying you and your reaction.

"You know who I am." he stated. It should have been a question, but both of you were aware of what he meant.

"A vampire?" You mocked. He didn't look like one though, but hey, neither did Edward nor Stefan. But God, those steel-blue eyes could drink you up and you wouldn't complain. Focus.

For the first time you saw an emotion on his face that wasn't unaffected or bored, he was confused. Of course, he was confused, you were referencing twilight to a mob boss (you think, you weren't sure, but that's all you could gather from all the articles you found about him online).

"I need that job," you confessed. " I know it's not very convincing, but I need you to trust me-"

He raised a brow at that and his lips turned into a smirk. God, you wished you could swipe off that smirk from his stupidly handsome face.

"But you don't trust me, " you stated dejectedly and started turning around. "You wanted something? "

In an instant, his hand wrapped around your wrist gently, stopping you in your tracks. You ignored the involuntary shudder that ran through you and immediately yanked your hand out of his grasp.

You turned around and were about to give him a piece of your mind about how he shouldn't just come to your place of work and touch you without consent. He clearly guessed your thoughts and cut in.

"Clint Barton, the manager, he will tell you everything you need to know about bartending and handling the customers."

Did he just hire you? What changed between this and your previous meeting with him?

And just like that, he left. There was a part of you that wanted to say fuck off I don't need your help, but you knew better, so you went to that club later that evening. You found the Manager, Clint. He told you he was expecting your arrival and that made you feel weird because Mr. Barnes was totally opposite the day you met.

Your new job required you to be at work from 8 pm to 3 am, which was ideal for you. You usually reach home and pass out till 4 in the morning and wake up around noon. This schedule gave you a lot of time to work on your book.

You ended up making friends with some other people that work there as well. Wanda was the smart, sarcastic one that you'd have died to have as a friend in high school. Pietro, her twin brother, was also nice, a bit fast and impatient, but he was nice to you. Peter looked very young, but he knew what he was doing and he'd help you out a lot. That kid had a lot of energy and adrenaline, which surprised you every time he'd be done with work way before you.

You didn't see Mr. Barnes frequently. You saw him one time entering the club, and you tried to give him a smile which he ignored and went straight to his office upstairs. And then you decided to ignore him as well. It wasn't like you to be petty, okay, maybe you were being petty, but in your defense, he started it.

You were finishing up cleaning the table and were about to call it a day when a man you didn't recognize, probably wasn't a regular, came in asking for a drink.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed." You told him politely.

"Whiskey on the rocks."

You wanted to refuse him again, but you stopped yourself when he came into your sight. He didn't look like the kind of man who'd take your no seriously. He looked just as intimidating as Mr. Barnes, even more, but Mr. Barnes knew his boundaries, whereas this man in front of you evidently didn't. You could tell this by the way his gaze was slowly taking your body in and stopping a little longer at your cleavage.

You wanted to cringe and curse yourself for choosing to wear a top like that in a place filled with drunk men. The smarter part of your brain told you that he can go fuck himself, and you shouldn't think about men when you dress up. Women are entitled to wear whatever they want to and fuck men and people who tell them otherwise.

Carefully, you made his drink and handed it to him. His hand lingered on yours while taking the glass from you, and you wanted to just throw the drink across his face. His gaze remained on your chest even when you fixed your top and coughed twice to call his behavior out.

"What time do you get off?" he asked, eyes still on your chest.

Is this guy for real? , you thought.

"Um, this is highly inappropriate and I think you should leave now because I have to call it a night." you rejected politely, raising your hand towards the door, hoping he'd leave.

He chuckled darkly, his stare still drinking in your body as if you were a piece of meat, and it made you very, very uncomfortable. He obviously wasn't taking no for an answer, and you had no clue what to do. You were the only person left, and you didn't even know who to ask for help.

"Come on, baby girl," he said, walking towards you and forcefully snaking his hands around your waist to settle on your hips. " Don't make this harder than it should be. "

"No!" you yelled, pushing him away and creating some distance between you.

"Hard way it is then," he decided, walking towards you and forcefully holding the hem of your shirt in his hands to remove it. You struggled, yelled, and pushed him off you again. He furiously lunged forward towards you and hit you hard across the face. "Fucking bitch."

"Rumlow!" a voice boomed from behind you, and you hated yourself for being in such a vulnerable state. As much as you tried not to, tears welled up in your eyes and you hated being the helpless damsel in distress.

"Get the fuck out of here." the familiar voice ordered.

"Chill, Barnes. We were just having a little fun," the man known as Rumlow reasoned nonchalantly. "Besides, it's not my fault if she wears clothes like this."

You were all about feminism and how women should be treated equally with respect despite their attire, but at that moment you hated yourself for choosing that deep-neck shirt this morning.

"I'm not going to chill while you sexually harass my employees, so get the fuck out of here," Mr. Barnes warned again.

You closed your eyes and hoped that maybe this was a shitty dream and you'd wake up in your bed and have an anxiety attack because of the nightmare. You hoped that maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you, so you could just not think about this ever.

You heard two sets of footsteps faintly in the background, one dragging its way away from you and the other rushing towards you. Furthermore, you didn't have it in you to open your eyes and meet the ocean blue ones that you knew were waiting for you.

In your head, you had already taken up the blame. The verdict came out the moment his gaze landed on your chest that it was your fault that you wore this shirt. Of course, if you were thinking right, you would have realized that you were undoubtedly the victim here and Rumlow was an asshole who assaulted you, but in your helpless state, your mind decided you were at fault here.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​

#mobster bucky #mob bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobbucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mob!bucky series #bucky series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin. 

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had. 

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard. 

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian. 

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain. 

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting. 

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know. 

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying. 

“Konechno.” Of course. 

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again. 

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death. 

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman. 

My father is an arms-dealer. 

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy. 

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t. 

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty. 

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people. 

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly. 

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer. 

“Starik,” I tease. Old man. 

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York. 

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise. 

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase. 

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital. 

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait. 

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details. 

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé. 

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored. 

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him. 

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option. 

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room. 

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature. 

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more. 

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest. 

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name. 

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now. 

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected. 

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello. 

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield. 

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello. 

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction. 

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave. 

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck. 

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys. 

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official. 

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual. 

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it. 

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

Tags: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @masstrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acosf countdown #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #a court of mist and fury

[hanniiesuckle17]

Lover, Lover, Set Me Free...

A/n: I hope you like this! It’s been a while since I’ve written something like this! (not fully edited only partially edited) also i totally did not pull an all nighter to finish this hahaha.......

Requested by: @hannie-squirrel00​ (thank you for requesting lovely! Sry it took a while! I wanted to do it right! <3)

Warnings: cussing, slightly 18+ themes, POV switching

Word Count: 13k

Summary: Jisung is one of the biggest players on campus. When Hyunjin bets him that he can’t get into the coldest girl on campus’s pants, Y/n gets unknowingly thrown into the ordeal. While doing his best, Jisung unconsciously starts to fall for this girl who means more to him that he is willing to admit to anyone- even himself. 

Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, college!au, fuckboy!jisung, badboy!jisung, non-idol au

❁

When did university become a popularity contest? Wasn’t the whole point to come and learn? Instead, I’m fighting tooth and nail to get a spot in the costuming program with bitches who don’t even know how to sew on a damn zipper. My hard work is being looked over while girls making googly eyes at my professor get top priority in class.

“Y/n, if you aren’t careful you’re gonna sew your finger to your garment again.” My best friend, Felix, said next to me. I shook myself out of my trance and sighed, turning off my sewing machine and running a hand through my hair. 

“Sorry, my head is just somewhere else.” 

Felix scoffed next to me as he focused on hemming a lavender-colored slip. “I’d be spacy too if I hadn’t gotten laid in a year.” He nudged my shoulder making me laugh.

“I’m sorry that I don’t need to have an active sex drive to get work done. Besides, guys are a waste of time.”

“I strongly disagree with that last statement.”

Felix smirked and pulled his garment off the machine. Despite many girls pining after him, it was quite obvious Felix was into guys. Well...obvious to everyone except the girls who kept buying him vodka martinis when we went out to drink.

“Seungmin and I were gonna go out for drinks. You wanna come?” My best friend said packing up his stuff. I looked back at the dress I was sewing, then Felix. He was pulling his best puppy dog eyes on me. 

“I will go tonight if you help me put boning in two corsets tomorrow.”

Felix grimaced. But I knew he would rather have a drinking buddy than have Seungmin leave him at the bar shitfaced. “Fine. But the first drink is on you.” I smiled and packed up my stuff, taking the garment with me. I could work on it back in my dorm tomorrow.

Felix happily dragged me out of the theatre department building and to the most popular campus bar on a Friday night. Seungmin was already seated at the bar nursing a beer when we arrived. Several people greeted Felix as we pushed through the crowded pub. “If it isn’t the famous Arctic Bitch!” I scowled hearing the name. Apparently, I had given myself quite a reputation without even trying.

Seungmin didn’t mean any harm by saying it. He just liked to poke fun at me. I bought Felix his first drink and the three of us shouted at each other over the loud music and voices in the bar. “Why is it so crowded tonight?” I shouted, frowning as someone elbowed me. 

“Apparently, 3RACHA decided to show up a couple hours ago.”

“WHAT? I call dibs on Changbin!” Felix shouted, his eyes going wide. I rolled my eyes and stole a sip from Seungmin’s beer. I could honestly care less about those three bullheaded bone-driven music majors. I didn’t really see the appeal. So, instead, I steered the conversation away so I could in fact enjoy my night. 

❁

Third POV

Han Jisung smirked as he watched the girl whose name he honestly couldn’t remember walk away back to her friends. He looked down at the number she had written on his wrist. He was in the middle of deciding whether or not he actually wanted to call her when a voice called to him.

“Han stop flirting with random girls and come actually spend time with your friends!” 

Chan motioned him over back to the booth that his three friends sat in. Hyunjin scoffed and took another drink from his gin and tonic.

“Do you really have to do that?” Changbin asked, downing the rest of his drink.

“What?”

“Bone everything that moves.”

“Please. Han is not as good as he thinks he is.” Hyunjin said, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. Jisung glared at his friend. He and Hyunjin bickered, but Hyunjin didn’t usually bring out the big punches like that.

“Oh yeah? I can get any girl in this bar to sleep with me.”

“You really wanna do this?”

“Yes. Give me your best shot.”

Chan sighed, his hands covering his face. “Guys, don’t do this. I like this bar. Don’t kill the bar. I wanna come back here.” Changbin chuckled, enjoying the situation as he nursed his second cocktail. Jisung watched with a smirk as Hyunjin looked over all the girls in the bar. His grin stayed strong when Hyunjin turned back to him with a smile.

“You, sir, are in luck. Guess who I spotted at the bar?” Hyunjin quipped.

“Your mom.” Han held his hand up to Changbin for a high five, and the boy reluctantly complied.

“I challenge you to get Seoul University’s Arctic Bitch to sleep with you,” Hyunjin said pointing to the bar. Jisung followed Hyunijn’s direction and looked across the bar. His eyes fell on a girl with h/c hair and a stern expression on her face as she stole a sip from her friend’s beer. She wasn’t the hottest girl he had ever seen, but her ass wasn’t half bad. 

“Challenge accepted.” Han moved to get up from the booth, but Hyunjin stopped him once more. 

“Hold up big boy. You’ve gotta give me proof too.”

“What kind of proof?”

“I don’t know. Picture, video, something like that. I’ve gotta know it’s her and not one of the random sluts you usually hook up with.”

Han thought about it for a minute. He glanced over at Chan who shook his head solemnly. Of course, Chan would be against this. “Fine. What do I get if I win?” Jisung stated, shaking Hyunjin’s hand. Hyunjin thought for a minute.

“If you get her to sleep with you AND get proof- I’ll give you $1500.” 

The other boys’ eyes went wide. Fifteen hundred dollars? Han started daydreaming about the new monitors he could get for his computer and the new sound system for his home studio. Plus that could go to paying off some of his student debt because God knows his parents weren’t gonna pay for this expensive college. “Oh, you got a deal!” Jisung glanced back over at the girl by the bar. This would be a piece of cake.

“If you can’t get Y/n to sleep with you...you have to go to graduation dressed in full lingerie. And heels.” 

Chan and Changbin laughed, calling attention over to the boys for a moment. He had already agreed so there was no way he could back out of this. “Deal. I can’t wait to get my 1.5k!” Jisung smirked and poured himself another shot of soju before downing it like it was water. With a salute to his friends, the brunette haired boy crossed the bar to complete his challenge. 

No way he would need three months to complete this.

❁

Y/n’s POV

We had been at the bar for only an hour and a half and Felix had already had three drinks, one of which was paid for by a very pretty- but not so observant- girl. It was kind of funny to watch him tipsily argue with Seungmin over who was the better role in our university’s musical, Chicago: Roxie or Velma.

“Fuck you, Min! Velma is a boss ass bitch in thigh highs! Whatcha gonna do about it, BRO?”

“Lix, drink some water,” I said, pushing my water towards my best friend. He pulled the drunk move and took the tiniest sip before turning back to his word assault against our other friend. Seungmin was only slightly more sober, but still argued with passion for his girl Roxie. Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder.

“Hey, you’re....Y/n, right? Lemme buy you a drink.”

My eyes raked over the boy in front of me. His brown hair brushed over the corner of his forehead and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them. A confident smirk played on his lips as his hand ghosted over my waist, before turning to the bar and back to me. 

“What’s your poison? Cosmopolitan, right?”

“Actually, I’ll take a Godfather.”

I stifled a laugh at the near microscopic flash of surprise on his face. He quickly regained his cocky composure and looked me up and down. “Whiskey. A girl after my own heart.” While he turned to the bartender and ordered my drink I took the opportunity to turn back to my friends and roll my eyes. But, to my surprise, Felix was standing slack-jawed behind me staring at the guy attempting to flirt with me, his argument with Seungmin forgotten.

“Sorry, who are you and why should I care you like whiskey?”

The shock was evident on his face as he turned back to me. He blinked a few times before looking around the bar in confusion. “You don’t know who I am?” He scoffed when I shook my head. The bartender handed me my drink as well as a jack and coke for the boy next to me. “This might be harder than I thought,” he muttered under his breath before taking a large sip from his drink. I was driving so this would probably be my one and only drink for the night. “I’m Han Jisung. I’m one of the rappers in 3RACHA.”

“Ah....that explains the air of entitlement.” 

He sighed and took another swig of his drink, leaning on the bar. I was starting to get frustrated; I came to have fun with my two friends, not get hit on by some cocky asshole. “Look Jinyoung-”

“Jisung.”

“Right. Whatever. I came to have fun with my friends. So, thanks for the drink. Why don’t you just call...Mina,” I said reading the name on his arm written in girly handwriting. “Cause she already seems interested in your deal. But, I’m not so.....bye!” 

Without another word, I turned around and returned to my friends, who were speechless. I couldn’t help but watch their eyes track Jisung’s form all the way back to the booth with the rest of his friends who could be heard laughing- most likely at him- from all the way across the bar.

“You just shot down the second hottest guy on campus.”

“Second hottest?”

“Yeah, have you seen his friend Chan? Boy’s got abs like a washboard.” 

I could practically see Felix’s mouth start to water. “Keep it in your pants, bud.” Seungmin laughed at my comment and threw an arm lazily around my shoulder. “Min, are you drunk already?” He just giggled and started poking my cheeks. I downed the rest of my drink and let Seungmin rest his head on my shoulder. 

“Come on, dummies. Let’s go home.” Felix followed me out of the bar as I carried Seungmin to my car. I was pretty sure I heard cheers behind me as I opened the door, when I turned I saw Felix twirling his shirt over his head and dancing with some random guy near the exit.

“FELIX!” 

He whined as I dragged him away from the guy he was dancing with. “Noooooooooooo! He was so sweet!” I laughed and strapped my best friend into the car safely. Tonight was certainly not what I had expected.

❁

A car horn blaring outside my window sent me shooting up in bed. My hair stuck up in ungodly directions. Yet another night of restless sleep. 

I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. About nine in the morning. No matter how early I went to bed I never seemed to get a good night’s rest.

Lazily I rolled out of bed and slipped on some shorts. My tired body shuffled into the dorm living room. I laughed seeing Seungmin half falling off my couch, asleep; it wasn’t uncommon for him to crash at my dorm after having a few drinks. My roommate didn’t really mind seeing as she had quite the little crush on him.

Speaking of, the sound of her door opening caught my attention. “Morning Lia,” I whispered. She started to speak but covered her mouth when she saw Seungmin passed out on the couch. “You want some tea?” I asked, setting a kettle on one of the burners. She nodded, sitting down and crossing her long legs on one of the kitchen stools.

Lia was maybe a year older than me and also a theatre major with a focus in performance. She had landed the lead in many of our university productions including our current musical, Chicago. 

“So, Seungmin was in quite the heated argument last night.” My dormmate’s eyes widened at the mention of the boy’s name. “He was quite adamant on making Lix understand that Roxie was the greatest lead in the show.” A dark tint rose to her cheeks as she glanced at the sleeping hungover boy on our couch. Lia was playing Roxie in our production this year.

“He probably just likes the character.”

I rose a brow and handed her a mug of tea, before sipping on my own. “Sure, he does. Because our techie Seungmin just adores the motivations of a starstruck murderess.” Somehow her cheeks grew even darker. 

“I have to go work in the Shop today, could you watch him while I’m gone?” She nodded with a small smile. The Shop was what we called the costume and scene shop. Basically, the backstage tech work area was the Shop. 

After finishing our tea, we parted ways and got ready for the day. I slipped on my favorite sweatpants and threw on a semi-clean crop top. Feeling a little chilly, I threw on the matching grey jacket hanging on my desk chair. After fighting with my hair for ten minutes I gave up and started packing my backpack with things I needed for the day.

I groaned looking over at the corner of my room; I’d forgotten to take four rolls of rather expensive and custom fabric to the workroom yesterday, so I had to do it today. Gathering the fabric up in my arms, I headed out.

The sidewalks were practically empty as I crossed campus on my way to the Arts part of the university. My knee pushed up a slipping fabric roll before I continued my walk, pace quickening as I saw the auditorium building up ahead. Finally, I would be able to set these down soon.

“Ahh!”

My foot caught on a crack on the sidewalk and fabric unrolled and went flying through the air. I scraped my hands against the pavement bracing my fall. Slowly I sat up and looked at my palms. They were red, some of the scrapes breaking the skin. 

“Fuck. Really?” 

With a groan, I reached for the nearest roll and checked the material. Thankfully the black silk was still intact and not ruined. Carefully I started the process of re-rolling it, wincing at the rawness on my hands.

“Need any help?” A voice spoke beside me. Before I could respond, the person knelt down and started rolling up another length of red material. I scoffed seeing who the voice belonged to. It was Jisung, from the bar last night.

“I’ve got it.”

“I just saw you hardcore face plant. I don’t think you’ve ‘got it’.” 

He laughed at my scowl and continued to help pick up the fabric I had dropped. As I began standing up, he grabbed my hand. “What the hell dude?” I said, pulling away from his grasp.

“Woah. Chill! You scraped your hand. I’m just trying to help.”

He tucked the rolls under his arm and unzipped a pocket in his backpack, bringing out bandaids and some antiseptic spray. I eyed him warily, but let him take my hand again. He glanced up at my eyes, gauging my expression before continuing to uncap the spray.

“This will sting a little.”

“Tsk. I’ve sewed through my finger, I think I can handle- AHHH OW! FUCK!”

He laughed, his eyes turning into happy crescent moons. I had to admit he had a nice smile. Then again, how many times had that smile gotten him into the pants of half the female student body?

I watched as he opened up two bandaids, gently laid them over my palm, and covered the scrapes. When they were secure, he looked back up at me with that cocky smirk. 

“Want me to kiss it better?” 

I rolled my eyes and yanked my hand away. “Anyway, Jiwon-”

“Jisung.”

His brows furrowed in frustration but he quickly plastered on a more than fake smile. It was honestly kind of fun messing with him; he was so used to being treated like some kind of sex god it seemed he had forgotten what it was like to be a normal human being like the rest of us. “Thanks for the help. I’m gonna go now.”

“Hey! Wait! That’s not how you thank someone.” Jisung said, grabbing back the two rolls of fabric in his arms as I tried to take them. 

“Oh? And how do you propose I thank you?”

He smirked and looked me up and down. His hand ran through his brown locks as his tongue ghosted over his lips. “Well, I mean...” He shrugged as if the thought was just occurring to him. “I can think of a few ways you could return the favor.”

“Your genitals don’t come with a built-in bulletproof shield, so you better watch yourself, fuckboy.”

Jisung visibly gulped and slowly shifted the fabric rolls in front of his waist. I almost smirked seeing the brief look of fear for his manhood; he shivered under my stare and then regained his composure. “Man, they don’t call you the Arctic Bitch for nothing.”

My face fell and I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, I’ve got work to do, corsets to make, and I have to figure out how to sew rhinestones onto a lavalier.” Jisung seemed to take notice of my change in demeanor. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Well, you’d be pretty offended if I called you a man whore. Same shit.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk and played with the edge of one of the rolls. Just because I would rather get through my insane credit hours than suck up to some bitch who’d probably drop out in a year doesn’t mean I deserve to have this hurtful nickname. 

“Where are you going? I’ll help you carry these.” Jisung interjected, breaking the very awkward silence. I shook my head and once again tried to take back my fabric. 

“I’m fine. You can go back to class or whatever.”

“I was actually headed to the studio to record with Changbin, but I’ve got time.”

I sighed. This man was persistent and not in a good way. There was no way I was going to get rid of him. “Fine. But if you fuck up that fabric I’m making you pay for it.” He smiled and tucked the fabric under his arm, following me to the back of the auditorium building. 

I watched Jisung take in everything in the hallway and on the walls as we made our way to the costume shop. “What? Have you never seen the backstage of a theater before?”

“Nah. I’ve only done small venues. Nothing with a stage like this.” 

I had almost forgotten Jisung was a rapper. As we came upon the workroom door, I adjusted the fabric in my hand and then pushed the door open with my foot. Jisung followed after I motioned for him to enter the room.

“Y/n! Do we really have to bone corsets? Like can’t we just cheat and put in a plastic lining?” Felix called out not looking up from his workstation. He sounded hungover. “Lia is tiny. Why does she need a fucking corset anyway--heyyyy there’s Jisung......Y/n why is he here?”

I dumped the fabric on a work table and Jisung did the same. “I picked up a stray. Thought you might like a pet.” Jisung rolled his eyes when I pointed behind me. When I turned around, Jisung still stood with his hands in his pockets. “You can go now.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Yeah, what if he doesn’t want to, Y/n?” Felix said in a teasing tone. A quick but deadly glare sent his way quickly shut him up and caused him to turn around back to his workstation. Jisung sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Look. I’m meeting a couple friends at the bar tonight. Why don’t you come by?”

“Hard pass.”

“What if I want to go?” Felix chimed in.

“Yeah, what if he wants to go!” Jisung said with a smirk.

“Felix, shut up for like two seconds.”

Felix scoffed and returned to putting boning in a red lingerie corset. “We both know that’s not gonna happen.” He muttered under his breath. I heard Jisung let out a laugh at the little exchange.

“Whether I go to the bar or not tonight has nothing to do with you. It is probably reliant on the fact that I have no control over my best friend.” Felix chuckled behind me. Jisung shrugged and looked around the room before backing away.

“Okay.”

“Hey, Jisung! Put in a good word for me with Changbin?” Felix called out, leaning over his chair. Jisung let out a lighthearted laugh as he opened the door. Felix had a hopeful look on his face that made me want to vomit.

“Sure, why not.”

Then we were left in silence. I quickly began working, but I felt Felix’s stare on my profile. I knew he couldn’t stay silent for long. Felix couldn’t go four minutes and eighteen seconds without immediately spewing out his opinion. Seungmin and I had timed it once; exactly four minutes later, he erupted.

“ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH JISUNG?”

“Did you see me go home with him last night?”

“No....you went home with Seungmin--OH MY GOD ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH SEUNGMIN?!”

“What? No! Ew!” I said tossing an empty pin cushion at him. “Never in a million years.” Felix let out a hefty sigh of relief. My fingers quickly worked through sewing up a finished section of a corset. 

Another silence followed as Felix turned back to our work. It was so obvious his thoughts were festering, just waiting to once again pop out. “So... how did Mr. Balls-for-Brains wind up helping you carry costume fabric?” 

I shrugged, putting in another piece of spiral steel and lining it up in a corset panel. “He helped me when I tripped. Apparently, the music department recording studios are near here.” 

“Uh....no they're not. The studios are on the other side of the Arts campus.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure he was just hanging around the theatre buildings until he saw you.” Felix laughed as I shuddered. I took a quick breath as the needle pricked my finger. This conversation was seriously distracting me. “So....we are going out tonight though. Right?” 

“I’m not going out dressed like this.”

“Just grab something from the racks. Mr. Jung won’t mind.”

“If we are going out, I’m drinking.”

“No argument from me. Then we get fun Y/n.” I threw another pin cushion at him, hearing a high pitched yelp beside me. The two of us worked for the next 6 hours until the sun started to set outside the Shop window. I let Felix dress me up from stuff on the racks and we called Lia and Seungmin to meet us at the bar.

When we arrived, it was certainly less packed than the night before. I pulled at the tight skirt Felix had put me in, wishing it to cover more of my thighs than its length allowed. Seungmin whistled as I sat down next to him at the bar. He turned my barstool to face him and Lia, who smiled and clapped at my appearance. 

“Is this global warming because the Arctic is hot tonight!”

I slapped his shoulder and turned back to the bartender to order my drink. “I would recognize this anywhere. This is the work of the Great Felix Stylist extraordinaire.” Lia exclaimed, letting Felix take a bow. The bartender slid over my drink and I rested my feet against the bar stool. They were sore from the heels Felix had put me in; only once every so often would I let him play dress up on me.

The night rolled on and I even danced with Lia after a couple more drinks. We came back off the dance floor to see Jisung talking with Felix and Seungmin, his arm leaning against the bar. “Jackass alert,” I whispered to Lia as we approached. 

Jisung’s eyes widened when he saw our approach. He seemed to drink in my entire body, not letting any part of me go unseen. “Hey, gorgeous.” He said with a smirk, his eyes dragging over me once again as he sipped his drink. “Can I talk to you?” 

“Sure, I said standing next to Felix and stealing a sip from his gin martini. I was really thirsty after dancing so much with Lia. He glanced from me back to my friends who were watching us expectantly. 

“I meant alone.” 

With a nod, the rest of my friends started moving towards an open booth. I stopped Felix, a hand on his martini glass. “Leave it. I’m going to need more alcohol for this.” With a sigh and longing look at his drink, he left it in my hands.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not nearly enough.” I plainly stated before drinking some more of Felix’s martini. My face soured. I forgot he liked gin. Jisung laughed as I put the drink on the bartop. 

“Look. I think you and I should go out.”

“And I think you should jump off a cliff. Preferably one the size of your ego.”

“Ouch.” He said with an unaffected smile.  His eyes darted to a girl walking by us, but he quickly diverted his attention back to me. I tried not visibly throw up in my mouth at the action. “Let’s hang out this week.”

“Sorry; not into late-night booty calls since...well...ever.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair, a habit of his I had picked up on. I couldn’t decide if it was out of frustration or nerves. “Come on. I’m not that bad.” 

“Your reputation says otherwise.” 

“I could say the same about you.”

He smirked when I fell silent. My fingers played with the rim of the martini glass. I hated that he totally won that argument. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” His words made me look up and quirk an eyebrow. “For the next two months, you get dinner with me twice a week and we text once a day.” 

“I’m not going on a dinner date with you. I have zero time. I have to bring home my costume work as it is.”

“I never said it was a date. I just want to get to know you, Y/n.” Jisung chuckled and adjusted the clasp of my necklace, making me freeze. “We don’t have to go out to eat. I’m sure it’s hard to focus on work with a theatre major as a roommate. You can come over and I’ll order take out.” I had to admit that the offer sounded tempting. I loved Lia but she could be loud as fuck when prepping for a show. 

“Still low key sounds like a date.” 

“I swear I will not touch you unless you ask me to.” He winked and I rolled my eyes. “And you will ask me to. Eventually.” A heavy and anger filled sigh left my lips and Jisung leaned away. I honestly hadn’t noticed he had gotten closer.

“Lia is going to think something is up. Felix is for sure going to think I’m sleeping with you. And Seungmin...”

“You aren’t dating Seungmin are you?” 

He smiled when I shook my head no. “Anyway, there is no way I’m telling my friends I am hanging out with you.” He shrugged and sipped more on his drink. I was starting to feel a little bit of the alcohol’s effect. 

“I’m chill with that. So, you bring over your costume...stuff...on Monday and we can order in and get to know each other.” I shrugged and gave him a small nod. Jisung smiled in victory. 

“You do know I’m not going to let you walk away from this conversation looking that happy.”

“And how do you propose you fix that?” 

“I was thinking either a slap or a drink.” Jisung laughed and downed the rest of his drink, I assumed Jack and Coke, like the night before. He motioned with his fingers and tapped his chest. 

“Give me your best shot, gorgeous.” His willingness made me laugh, genuinely. “Although, I would prefer not to have a huge red mark on my cheek.” 

I nodded sarcastically. “Oh. Of course. We can’t damage the precious merchandise.” He groaned when I pinched his cheek. To be honest, I could not believe I was having a nice casual conversation with Han Jisung, 3RACHA’s legendary fuckboy.

“Well then, I’ll see you on Monday. I’ll be at the Shop.”

“I’ll see you then, gorgeous.” 

I rolled my eyes and picked up Felix’s martini. “ASSHOLE!” I yelled before tossing the drink in Jisung’s face. “Wow, that was really fun,” I whispered with a smile before walking away to my friends. 

“Y/N THAT WAS MY DRINK!! NO! MY ALCOHOL!” Felix said, fake crying.

❁

Jisung’s POV

The gin stung my eyes and Y/n was kind of blurry as she walked away, but I could hear the smile in her voice. This was ironically the first time I had let a girl toss a drink in my face. AND FUCK I WOULD NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN. 

I wiped my face and stumbled away from the bar, trying not to get even more liquor in my eye as I followed the laughter of my supposed ‘friends’ in our usual booth. 

“And the King has struck out yet again,” Changbin said as I sat down. Chan laughed but handed me a napkin to wipe my stinging face. A couple strands of my hair fell wet in front of my eyes. “What is this? The third time you been denied by Y/n?” Bin laughed and drank from his (probably) fifth beer of the night. 

“Han, I hate to say it. But I am so looking forward to seeing you in lingerie accepting your diploma.”

“I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, Hyunjin.” All eyes turned to me as I blinked wildly. My vision was just starting to come back. I looked over to Y/n and her friends. Felix was chiding her about destroying his drink and Lia was high fiving her for throwing it. 

“...But she threw a martini in your face. I think that qualifies failure in every book I’ve ever read.” Hyunjin scoffed. Little did he know I had Y/n exactly where I wanted her. Soon she would be eating out of my hands. She would be begging for me to sleep with her before she even knew it herself.

❁

Y/n’s POV

Three weeks had passed and I had been drowning in work. Though I hated to admit it...Jisung was the only thing keeping me sane. He had been a really good friend to me for the past few weeks. Lia was the only one who knew about my little dinner rendezvouses with Jisung. And I was correct in the fact that I had been subject to her relentless teasing. 

“Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

“We are not dating. We are just getting dinner twice a week, getting to know each other, not seeing other people casually, and maybe some.....flirting-- AND OH MY GOD HE TRICKED ME. WE’RE DATING.”

Lia laughed at my realization. I threw down the dress I was working on for Lia’s finale scene. The sound of beads hitting the floor rung throughout the dorm. “What are you gonna do about it?” Lia questioned, adjusting herself on the couch.

“I’m going to go over there and question the shit out of his ass.”

“Hell yeah! Text me!” She cheered as I grabbed my keys and ran out the door. 

I slammed my car door and stomped up the stairs of Jisung’s apartment building. A million angry thoughts ran through my mind as I stormed down the hall to his apartment. Without another thought, I burst through the front door, which was oddly...unlocked. 

“HAN MOTHER FUCKING JISUNG! YOU TRICKED ME INTO DATING YOU AND I-”

I froze taking in the scene in front of me. Jisung stood wide-eyed shirtless and holding a bottle of water, sweat dripping off his forehead. Another boy, who I recognized as Chan from 3RACHA, dressed in a tank top and sweats was seated on the couch, his face full of surprise at my entrance.

“Oh- uh.....sorry...I’ll just come back when you have...clothes.”

“No, it’s fine! I was just leaving anyway. Thanks for going to the gym with me Han.” Chan grabbed his jacket and exited in the most polite power walk he could manage. Though not without giving Jisung a thumbs up and then shutting the door.

“So how long did you think you were gonna get away with this?” He smirked and opened the water bottle. I was struggling to look anywhere but his tan chest. He obviously noticed. “Oh my god. Would you please put a shirt on!” He chuckled and came closer to me.

“What? Do I make you nervous?” He looked me up and down with dark eyes. My heart pounded in my chest. “Look, I know you’re mad. But, you can’t tell me that you didn’t have fun hanging out with me. Can you?”

“No,”

“And you can’t say that you aren’t at least the tiniest bit attracted to me. Right?”

“I’m not...not attracted to you...”

Jisung smirked and slid his hand around my waist, pulling me so our chests brushed against each other. “That’s not a straight answer.” He smiled at my lack of response. Jisung was clearly enjoying this.

“Well- you’re...not a... straight answer.”

Jisung laughed and let go of me. “But, seriously Y/n. I don’t know about you, but I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these past few weeks and I really like you.” He took my hand in his and laughed, making his eyes turn into crescents. “So, why don’t we make it official? Y/n, let’s date.”

I blinked a few times before turning away from him. This was not normal. My hands came up to my temple, a sharp pain suddenly emitting from there. “You can’t be serious,” I said, turning back to Jisung. “There’s no way you like me. You like girls for one night stands. I’m not like that. So there is no-”

Jisung’s lips crashed against mine, his hands gripping my wrists gently. He’s kissing me. What do I do? As if reading my thoughts he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes and smile. “Y/n, don’t overthink it. Just let go for once. You’re with me.”

His hand slid down to my waist and his fingers tangled in my belt loops, pulling me closer. My brain was in overdrive. I hadn’t been kissed in so long. Maybe what I said to Felix wasn’t totally the truth. Maybe I had just been depressing my long starved sex drive. Jisung was really nice and I really liked him. What would be the harm in letting myself have fun with someone I actually like for once?

“Okay...so maybe I like you a little bit.” Jisung smiled and brushed away a piece of hair near my face, grazing my cheek. My hands slowly came up to rest on his chest, his warm skin radiating off heat. 

“So are we on the same page? You’re mine now?”

“Fine. I guess so,” I said with a laugh. Jisung smiled and kissed me again. His fingers dug into my hips and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. 

Kissing Jisung made my head spin in the best way possible. Needing air for more than one reason, I pushed against his chest. “Hey, why don’t you go shower. I’m sure you need one after working out with Chan.” He smirked, his hands slowly moving lower than my waist. “No, I’m not showering with you.”

“Damn. Worth a shot. You wanna stay? I’ll order pizza.”

“Sounds good to me.” After kissing my cheek, Jisung turned and made his way to his bathroom. When the door closed I leaned against the couch for support. Keep it cool, Y/n. I have to remember to keep my guard up. Jisung can’t possibly just change overnight. While I want to trust him...something is holding me back. 

Hopefully, I’m just paranoid.

❁

I rolled over in bed, not wanting to wake up. My hand brushed up against something cold. Opening my eyes, I saw my phone under my hand. The screen was still lit up and displayed a caller ID and call time of almost five hours. I smiled seeing Jisung’s name scrolling across the top. Did we really fall asleep on the phone? 

Picking up the phone, I heard the sounds of his small breaths and soft snores. “Jisung,” Another soft snore made me smile. We had only been dating officially about a week, but I was really enjoying my time with him. “Jisung?” 

“Mmph...I’m up...what’s happening?” He mumbled into the phone. Jisung must have fallen asleep on top of the phone. I laughed and sat up in bed, running a hand through my messy hair.

“I think we fell asleep on the phone, Ji.” His laugh could be heard over the phone.

“Ji?”

“What?” 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name or an asshole.” I blushed and rolled out of bed. “Y/n L/n are you starting to like me?” Jisung asked, his voice rough from just waking up.  The gravely low tone sent a chill down my spine. 

“Well, we are dating. That’s what two people do when they like each other, dummy.” I leafed through my closet, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder. He let out what sounded like a forced laugh. Maybe it was just my imagination. It was my brain searching for things to make me not trust him.

“You want to drop by the studio later? I should be working all day but it would be kinda cool to see you.” My ears picked up on the sound of his fingers racing across a keyboard. What could he be working on this early? 

No, Y/n. Don’t go there. I have to at least try and trust him. I can’t be nosy and wondering about everything in his life when we’ve only been going out a short time. 

“Uh, I can probably drop by around three. I have an exam today I can’t miss.”

“Okay. I’ll text you the studio number. See you later, gorgeous.” With that, he hung up the phone. I tossed the device on my bed and finished getting dressed. A ding notified me of a text. Glancing at it, I saw Jisung sent me the number of the studio number he would be working in and a heart. 

It almost set me a little on edge. I knew his personality. I even knew a few of the girls who had the unfortunate experience of falling into bed with him. It just seemed a little weird to me how doting he was with me when he was never like that with other girls. 

Maybe he really was trying to make a change? That couldn’t be impossible. Could it? People change. Most often in fairytales and movies, but it happens like 1% of the time, right? These thoughts swarmed through my head as I walked into my lecture hall. 

I sat in my usual seat, arriving about five minutes before class was set to begin. Looking up, I saw several sets of eyes staring at me; all belonging to different girls. Some had looked of pity, some disgust, but all looked slightly confused. Ignoring them, I pulled out my notes for a few more moments of study time.

“You’re the girl whose dating Han, am I right?”

I looked up to find a very pretty girl with blonde hair and big doe-like eyes. “Umm...yeah. Is there a problem or something?” She shook her head and sat down next to me with a smile. 

“Oh! No, not at all. I just had to see for myself that’s all. My name’s Momo. I’m a dance major. I have a mutual friend of Han’s, Hyunjin.”

I nodded, glancing from her to my paper. I wasn’t really used to this much attention during class. Usually, I just focused on the lecture or project and didn’t talk much. “Yeah, I know they are friends, but I don’t really know Hyunjin myself.”

She nodded and twirled a pen between her fingers. I started to wonder what her relationship was with the boys. She was obviously gorgeous and she seemed just like Jisung’s type. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had slept together before.”I’ve just heard so much about you. All those rumors are totally bogus by the way. I would love if we could be friends.”

She took my hand in hers with a bright and blindingly white perfect smile. Did she not know what personal space was? “Uh....sure. I guess that would be cool. I’m usually pretty busy with making costumes for the university’s musical.”

“Here! Take my number! We can go get coffee sometime. I’d love to hear all the juicy tea about the girl who finally got the famous Han Jisung to stop sleeping around.” Momo ripped a piece of paper from her perfectly organized agenda and wrote her number on it. The professor started speaking as she handed it to me. Holy shit it was scented! 

This day was just getting more and more confusing for me.

❁

Jisung’s POV

The studio was freezing as per usual. Even bundled up in a beanie and hoodie I was cold, pulling the sleeves further down my hands. I watched the monitor carefully and adjusted the headphones over my ears. 

“Okay, Bin! You’re good.” Chan called to the boy in the booth after I gave him a thumbs up. “So, I take it things with Y/n are...good,” Chan asked hesitantly. The topic of Y/n was a sore subject for him so I was surprised he brought it up. 

“Oooooo We talking about the Snow Queen?” Changbin said plopping down on the couch near the wall. I turned in my chair to roll my eyes at him. “I’m taking that as a sign you haven’t gotten in her pants yet?”

“She’s honestly kind of a prude....well. Not a prude. But you know what I mean.” Chan shook his head at my words.  

Changbin threw a ball of paper at my head, making me send another glare his way. “Isn’t this the longest dry spell you’ve had. How long has it been?” I sighed pulling the headphones down around my neck.

“One month, five days, twelve hours, and twenty-two minutes.”

“You know it’s gross that you keep track like that,” Chan said taking a swig from his water bottle. “Y/n seems like a nice girl. It’s kind of sick you and Hyunjin using her like this.” I shrugged, not really caring.

“I mean, I guess. But, I would rather be $1,500 richer.”

“Just remember Y/n has feelings too.”

I nodded and turned back to the monitor looking at the track we just recorded. As if on cue, the door opened and Y/n’s voice could be heard greeting the other boys. 

“Hi!- Oh! Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone else. I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

Turning, I saw her shaking hands with Changbin and Chan. “Y/n that’s Bin, and you’ve met Chan,” I said pointing to the boys. “Now you’ve met all of 3RACHA.” I pulled her hand, dragging her closer to my chair. Chan rolled his eyes when I pulled her down and kissed her cheek. The smile on her face did not go unnoticed by the boys.

“How was your exam?” I asked, playing with her fingers.

“It was okay. I passed for sure. A girl named Momo asked to get coffee with me. Apparently, she knows your friend Hyunjin.” My eyes went wide and I stood up, pulling her to my side with a nervous laugh. 

“Well, uh... I think we’ve all done enough work today. Y/n you wanna go get some boba or something. I’m hungry what about you? Bye guys!” Quickly I pushed her out the door and waved goodbye to the boys. 

I had my fingers crossed that Hyunjin was keeping his big mouth shut.

❁

A month and a half. That’s how long I had left before I lost and was forced to be utterly humiliated in front of the entire university. Y/n and I had been dating for almost three weeks and hanging out for longer. I had to make a move tonight. 

My friend Minho had hooked me up with some tiny night vision camera that I had hidden all around my apartment. I knew Y/n was starting to trust me more, so this was the opportune time. She was coming over any minute now. I checked my reflection in the mirror and ran my hands through my hair. 

$1,500 here I come.

A knock bounced off the walls of my apartment. I checked the time. 8:30 pm. She was late by about forty-five minutes, which was not usual for her. What was it she always said? Early is on time and on time is late? Some weird theater shit like that. 

Something was up.

I rushed to the door and opened it to find Y/n standing at my doorstep. She gave me a tired smile and kissed my cheek in greeting. She looked like she felt awful. “Hi, Ji! Sorry, I’m late. Felix bailed on me so I had all this extra work to do for the musical and I have a semester project due this week-”

“Y/n what’s wrong?” She sighed and collapsed onto the couch. Sitting next to her I could see the concealer under her eyes attempting to hide the dark shadows. She never wore makeup unless she was going out. I was surprised even remembered that. “You can tell me anything, gorgeous.” She smiled when I took her hand. 

This might be better than I thought. Comfort her. Get the proof I need. Shove it in Hyunijn’s face. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to trust me. If it was something small she would tell me no problem.

But... maybe this was something bigger. 

“I’m just...really stressed.” She said, pushing her hair away from her face. I could see the wall she had slowly building itself back up. There was pain behind her eyes. She was hurting. Why did that make me sad?

“That’s not all this is.” I turned towards her fully, giving her my complete attention. She crossed her legs up on the couch and stared at her fingers. When I lifted her chin I saw tears on the brink of falling from her eyes.

“I just... feel like...- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shook her head and looked around my apartment. She tried to laugh it off but frowned when she saw my face. Y/n let out a shaky breath when I took her hands in mine, resting them in her lap. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Just sitting across from each other on the couch. She seemed to be working up the courage to tell me something.

“Nothing I ever do...seems to be...enough.” I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “I work my ass off. All the time. But, it feels like I can’t do anything right lately. Not enough for my mom. Not enough for my teachers. Certainly not enough for Tech Recruiters. I just feel like I’m falling short on everything I do. And I’m tired. I just want to be enough for someone. But, who am I kidding? Nobody likes me. I’m Seoul University’s Arctic Bitch, right? I’m too coldhearted and selfish to get anywhere in life, let alone convince any theatre company to hire me so I can pay off my student loans. I’m just so fucking tired of feeling this way. Sorry for whining. I know you probably had other plans for tonight.” 

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and stared out the living room window. “Hey,” I said pulling her attention back to me. Surprisingly, she let me reach up and wipe a tear from her cheek. “Look at me,” Reluctantly Y/n met my eyes. “You are more than enough for me.” She looked down and smiled, wiping more tears on her sleeve.

“Really?”

“Really.” I ran my thumb over her knuckles and smiled at her. It took a lot for her to open up to me like that. “You have just been bottling this up haven’t you?” She nodded and wiped another tear, before looking back up at me. Her eyes were still beautiful even when she was crying. “I do that too. It’s a habit we should both fix. Could you talk to Lia? Or Felix?”

She shook her head and started playing with my fingers. I started to like the feeling of her smaller hands in mine. “Lia has her own stuff to worry about. Her dad keeps pressuring her to join an entertainment company. And Felix...well Felix means well, but...” I was relieved to see her smile again. Her laugh was contagious. 

“Yeah, I get it. Kind of like Changbin and Chan. They mean well, but they don’t understand sometimes.”

She nodded and played with one of the rings on my right hand. “Thank you for listening. It really means a lot that I can trust you like this.”

“You trust me?”

“I never thought I would say that but... I would never have told Felix that and he is my best friend.”She reached up a cupped my cheek. Her hands were warm and inviting. I stared into her eyes no longer seeing hurt behind her E/c orbs. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that?” I said without thinking. My eyes widened and I pulled away from her touch. I had never said anything like that. Usually, everything I said to Y/n had a purpose or plan behind it. But, I just spoke without thinking. 

Y/n smiled, her eyes turning even brighter. She leaned forward and kissed me. Something about this kiss felt different than the times I had kissed her before. My heart started to race and goosebumps crawled over my skin. I smiled when her hands pulled me closer to her, tangling her fingers through my hair.

A sigh escaped my chest when her teeth grazed over my lip. She pulled away only for a second to catch her breath before coming back to me. I pulled away when she threw her leg over my lap and straddled me. “What are you doing?” I asked as she kissed from my lips down to my jaw. It was exciting not to be in control for once. 

“Showing you how much you mean to me,” She whispered before kissing my lips again. Instinctively, my hands gripped her waist wanting for no space left between my body and hers. I felt close to Y/n in a different way. I feel like I had been in this exact position with other girls, but with her it was different. Something about kissing her like this felt intimate. Like it was just for us to share. 

Fuck. The cameras. They were still recording all over the apartment.

“Uh- Y/n...” I said pulling away from her, my hands planted firmly on her hips. “Are you sure you want to do this, gorgeous?” My eyes widened as she nodded and continued to drag her lips across mine. “Because we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Please tell me to stop. If you don’t I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. 

“Ji, I want this. Do you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Good. Do you trust me?” Y/n asked with a mischievous smile. I nodded watching her eyes twinkle in the low light of my apartment. She dragged her fingers down my chest and pulled at the hem of my shirt. As soon as the fabric was over my head and flung somewhere in the living room she smashed her lips onto mine. 

My thoughts were running a mile a minute. How was I supposed to turn off all the cameras without her knowing? After seeing her in pain, I couldn’t hurt her like that. An idea popped in my head. Wrapping my arms around her waist I pulled her up and carried her, pushing her back against the nearest wall. 

Her legs tightened around my waist, holding herself up. She looked down at me with hooded eyes before kissing me again. With one hand I kept her steady while the other searched the bookshelf next to me for the camera I put in the living room. Feeling the metal and plastic, I quickly turned it around blocking its view. 

There should just be two more in my bedroom. “Ji,” Y/n moaned into my lips. She was driving me crazy. I was already more worked up from this than I had ever been with any other girl. She giggled when I carried her through the bedroom door and pressed her up against the wall. “You know...I haven’t done this in a pretty long time...” Her words were breathy and cut off when she joined her lips back to mine.

“You could have fooled me.”

My mind was kind of in a haze. All I could think about was Y/n. I couldn’t think straight with her hands all over me. Where did I put the second camera again? Her lips trailed down to my neck sending my brain and body into overdrive. Come on, Han. Focus. 

The desk! Then the third was by my nightstand. I moved us over slowly, hoping she wouldn’t notice. I wanted to touch her so badly. But, I couldn’t betray her trust after she opened up to me like that. Joining my lips with hers, I felt blindly around the table for the small device. After I found it, I tucked it behind the monitor. 

“Are you sure, gorgeous?” I asked one more time looking into her eyes.

“Jisung, stop asking or I swear I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what?”

“I don’t know. Just kiss me damn it.” She smiled when I smashed my lips onto hers. Her fingers pulled at my hair as I dragged my lips down her jaw. She joined our lips as I picked her up and carried her to the bed. The bed dipped as she laid on the mattress. Before I could reach for the nightstand she pulled me over, straddling me on the bed again. 

I tried to keep my brain clear as she attacked my neck and chest with her lips. Knowing she was distracted, I grabbed the camera and threw it across the room wanting this to be done. Her head turned at the sound, but I pulled her back to my lips. 

“You drive me crazy,” I whispered, reaching down and pulling at the hem of her shirt. My lips latched onto every bare piece of skin I could find, wanting to feel every part of her. I was ready to be with her, in more ways than I had thought.

❁

Y/n’s POV

I lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Jisung laid beside me his arm slung across my stomach and soft snores leaving his lips. I smiled seeing him next to me. I had slept for a few hours but like usual, I had woken up in the middle of the night unable to fall back asleep. 

Shifting onto my side, I looked at Jisung. He looked peaceful in his sleep. There was always something active about him when he was awake. Like he was never still. Seeing him in a state of calm was intriguing. My hand brushed the side of his cheek. A strand of his brown hair fell over his eyes, so I gently pushed it back and softly moved my hands through his locks.

Jisung let out a little hum in his sleep, making me smile. I started to pull away my fingers but Jisung’s hand shot up to keep it there, startling me. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Jisung mumbled, placing my hand back in his messy hair. 

“I can’t sleep. Don’t worry about me.” I said quietly going back to playing with his soft brown tresses. He shook his head, brows furrowing in the cutest way. His fingers latched themselves onto my wrist, rubbing his thumb against my skin. 

“I’m not sleeping unless you are,” He whispered, obviously half asleep. 

“Shhh. Ji, go back to sleep.” Instead of complying he tugged me into his bare chest and started tracing soothing patterns on my lower back. In all honestly just that alone was making me just a little sleepy. My eyes were starting to droop, just laying in his arms, but my brain was still wide awake. 

Suddenly, my ears picked up on the soft sound of Jisung singing. It was slow and gentle, his voice a little rough from sleep, but beautiful all the same. His voice was like honey, soothing my entire body. My fingers started to slow their movements as I tucked myself into Jisung’s chest. 

I finally fell into a deep sleep listening to Jisung softly sing to me.

❁

Light streamed through the window, hitting me straight in the face. I groaned and tried to roll over. My brows furrowed when something stopped me. My tired eyes opened more to see Jisung still sounds asleep, holding onto me like a teddy bear. 

Sensing my movements, Jisung’s eyes cracked open and smiled. “Good morning, gorgeous,” His voice was scratchy and low, sending chills down my spine. Jisung pushed himself up on his elbow and hovered over me with a drowsy smile. 

“Morning, Ji,” 

He genuinely smiled down at me and leaned down pressing his lips against mine. I felt him smile when I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Do you have class this morning?” He asked against my lips, which were most likely swollen from last night. Jisung himself had several darkening marks on his neck and collarbone. 

“Not until tomorrow. Do you?” 

“I was supposed to go record with Chan and Bin.”

“Supposed?”

“Like hell, I am going to leave you looking this beautiful in my bed,” Jisung said pressing his lips down my neck. “You want a shower? I’m gonna call Chan and tell him I’m not coming.” I nodded and pulled him up to my lips one more time.

“Thank you for last night, Ji. For everything.” 

He smiled and kissed my cheek. “Feel free to borrow some of my clothes,” Jisung said with a smirk before rolling over and grabbing his phone on the nightstand. I grabbed a hoodie from his closet while he was distracted with his phone and headed to the bathroom.

❁

Jisung’s  POV

“Chan, I’m in deep shit,” I whispered into the phone. I checked to make sure Y/n was out of the room. Chan scoffed over the line.

“Han. It is way too early for this. Did you accidentally email your professor a pornhub link again?” 

“What no!” Chan sighed. “Look, Y/n’s over here.” He started freaking out over the phone. I sighed letting his panic play out. 

“Oh no, no, no. You are not dragging me into this. Y/n is a nice girl. I want nothing to do with your and Hyunjin’s sick bet-”

“I think I’m starting to really like her. Like a lot.”

There was silence on the other side of the line. I decided that he was probably waiting for more information. Or he had passed out. Either was a probable response from Chris. “But, she’s at your apartment? Han, it’s like ten in the mornin-...You didn’t.” He took my silence as confirmation. “How could you? You said you like her!”

“I didn’t technically. I had these cameras set up, but I turned them off after she opened up to me and stuff started to happen.”

“YOU SET UP ACTUAL CAMERAS TO FILM HER?”

Chan screamed so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Even then I could still hear him. “Did you hear the part where I said I turned them off. I have no proof....and honestly....I’m starting to question if I want any.”

“Wow. Good for you. You’ve had personal growth. Whoop-de-doo.” 

“Hey. I am asking for advice, not sarcasm.” I said with a sigh. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling it sticking up in weird places. “What should I do? Chan...I really like Y/n, but I’ve been lying to her up until now.”

“You’ve got to tell her the truth eventually.”

“But, what if she hates me. I don’t think I could handle hurting her.” Chan sighed again. I could practically see his face. The guy probably just woke up and I was putting all this stress on him. 

“I don’t know what to tell you,”

“I get it. Just don’t tell anyone about what we talked about, okay? At least until I figure out how to tell Y/n. I’m gonna stay here and think about it.” With that, I hung up the phone and laid back in bed. My fingers massaged my temple, feeling a sharp pain there. 

Did I really want to keep up this bet?

❁

Y/n’s POV

A weel later Jisung and I were doing even better than we were before. We were actually going out on dates and also...staying in and doing...other things. Jisung had invited me to come and see 3RACHA perform tonight at a local club, so Felix was fussing over my outfit. 

“Felix, I am not fitting into that dress.”

“You can squeeze!”

“A Polly pocket couldn’t fit into that tiny ass thing!” 

“Come on, Y/n! Be my Barbie!” Felix said chasing me around the costume shop with a tiny piece of white fabric that barely passed the social standard of being a dress. Eventually, he tackled me and wrestled me into the tight-fitting dress. 

“I feel naked.”

“Oh, please. He’ll love it.” Felix said throwing a pair of heels at me. I looked longingly at my pair of old tennis shoes. “If you aren’t wearing pumps at least wear some boots. We are clubbing after all.”

“Lix, we aren’t clubbing. We are watching Han perform.” 

“Same difference.”

I sighed and slipped on the black heeled boots Lix threw on my workstation and grabbed the brightly colored graffiti jacket that Jisung ‘left’ at my dorm. He had been leaving more and more of his clothes lying around my room. I wasn’t complaining.  

I drove both of us to the club and covered my ears entering the loud establishment. 3RACHA were already up on stage and performing a song so we pushed our way to the front. All the boys looked a little tipsy and had beers up on stage with them. Jisung saw me in the crowd and blew a kiss in my direction sending the whole crowd into a frenzy.

The show was incredible, though after I couldn't seem to get anywhere near Jisung. All the boys were hounded with fans and the crowd around them was too big to get through. “This is ridiculous. I can’t even get to my own boyfrien-” My world stopped when I looked over in Jisung’s direction by the bar. I swear everything happened in slow motion.

A girl with long platinum blonde wavy hair was draped all over Jisung’s arm. He talked to her while drinking yet another beer. I watched as she leaned up and cupped his cheeks, bringing him down for a sloppy kiss. The crowd cheered and I began to feel dizzy. “Y/n,” I heard Felix say, grabbing onto my elbow.

“I’ve gotta get out of here.”

The bass was so loud I could feel it pounding against my brain as I pushed through the crowd of dancing bodies. I heard someone calling my name, but I didn’t really want to talk to anybody. I just needed air. I needed to think.

“Y/n!”

I finally broke through the crowd and made my way outside the club. Where was my car? Where the fuck did I park? I ran a hand through my hair and looked around me trying to find my car in the see of dimly lit vehicles. 

“Y/n!” A hand grabbed my arm and turned me around. Jisung stood before me, clearly drunk with lipstick all over his face. “Y/n, baby, it’s not what you think.” His voice, which had become my favorite sound,  was slurred and broken up.

“Not what I think? Tell me, then. What was it?”

“Mina, she was drunk. She kissed me, but it didn’t mean anything. You know I only have feelings for you.” Did I know that? There was always this little thought in the back of my mind no matter how much I trusted Jisung that told me I was just another number in his playbook.

“Yes, she did kiss you. But that is a fucking cop-out. Because there is a reason she felt like that was an option.” 

I tried to push away the tears that threatened to fall. Jisung broke looking at me. I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, but I didn’t know if I could trust him right now. I could tell it hurt him when he reached out and I backed away, tears inevitably falling down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry. I die when you cry.”

“Jisung you can’t do that!” I said watching a tear drip down his cheek.

“What?” 

“You can’t make me love you when I’m supposed to hate you!” I said slapping his shoulder and letting the tears flow freely.  Not hesitating, he wrapped me up in his arms, even when I tried to push him away. He let me cry on his shoulder and beat on his chest until it physically hurt to breathe.

“You’re right. It is a cop-out.” His hand came up and rubbed my back like he had done every night he stayed with me. “Y/n, I’m so sorry I let it happen. I don’t know what I was thinking.” My knuckles turned white, gripping onto his shirt. 

“Jisung, I’m tired of being hurt.”

“You are my everything, gorgeous.” He said lifting up my chin. I hated crying and feeling like this. It just sucked not being able to trust him when I wanted to be with him so badly. 

“How do I know I’m not just another random hookup for you?” 

“Because...” My heart dropped when he couldn't say anything.

“That’s the answer I needed. Thanks.” 

I started to walk away but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back into his chest. Jisung smashed his lips on mine, desperation, and passion filling the kiss making my knees go weak.

“That’s how.” He said, pulling away.

❁

I woke up the next morning, in Jisung’s bed light streaming through the window. I really should get him curtains. I smiled thinking back to last night. Jisung promised to show me that I wasn’t just another girl to him. And boy did he. I had never felt so loved than when I was with Jisung last night. 

I grabbed a big shirt of his that was lying around and slipped it over my head. My feet carried me out into his living room, where bright sunlight illuminated his only slightly messy apartment. A note on the coffee table caught my eyes.

Morning gorgeous,

Went out to get coffee and breakfast for us. 

I’ll be back soon, so sit tight. 

Ji <3

I smiled at his handwriting and the heart he left me. Lifting my legs up, I got comfortable on the couch and waited for Jisung to get back. The sound of a notification filled the room. Did I leave my phone in here? 

I searched for the device and found it face-up on the counter. It said I had one voicemail. Swiping on the notification the voicemail started playing. The voice of a boy I didn’t recognize filled the living room as I brought the phone back over to the couch. “Hey, it’s Hyunjin,” Oh. This must be Jisung’s phone. I was about to put it back until I heard the boy continue.

“Just reminding you, you’ve got two weeks to get into Y/n’s pants or you lose the bet. Your reputation as campus King is on the line, bro. Oh and don’t forget the cash prize.” 

I couldn't move.

❁

Han  Jisung’s POV

The coffee line took forever, but I finally got my order and excited the shop. I was trying to balance the cup holder in one hand and hold the door open for another customer when something slammed into my shoulder. “Hey! Watch it!” 

“Han?”

I looked up to see Hyunjin with a sly grin on his handsome face. “Hyunjin?” He clapped me on the back and helped me hold the door. “What’s up, man?” I asked when we were both standing outside. 

“I actually just called you like twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, sorry I think I left my phone at my apartment.” I shrugged, trying to move along the conversation. Hyunjin was the last person I wanted to see. Especially after what happened last night with Y/n. “What about?”

“Just to remind you that you’ve got two weeks until you officially lose our bet. Don’t worry, I left a message so you can’t forget.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. My phone was still in the apartment with Y/n. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, eyes going wide. Hyunjin seemed to pay my reaction no mind. He was still stuck in his own world like usual.

“Whose the other coffee for by the way?” 

Fuck. She was gonna hear the message. No. She can’t hear it from Hyunjin. That asshole is going to ruin any chance I have left with her. Dropping the coffee and take away bag, I started sprinting across campus back to my apartment.

“HAN, WHAT THE FUCK?” 

I prayed that Y/n was still asleep. Maybe I could get there before she woke up, delete the message and just put this whole bet thing behind me. Doing Hyunjin’s punishment seemed like nothing compared to losing Y/n. I burst through the lobby doors and spotted my landlord already in his office. 

“Mr.Kang!”

“Good lord! Mr. Han, what can I do for you?”

“Uh...my girlfriend- the uh woman I came back with last night. Has she left yet?” I said completely out of breath. He stared at me like I was insane. 

“Not to my knowledge. I didn’t even realize you were serious about someone.” 

Before he even finished his sentence, I was pushing myself off his doorframe and racing to the elevator. I slammed the button and watched the elevator come down but it was taking too long for me. “Fuck this.” Racing up the stairs my heart pounded in my chest. Would she even still be there? Or would she just leave and not give me a second chance?

“Y/n?” I called halfway down the hall. I could care less about my neighbors at this point. “Y/n?” I burst through the door, knowing I left it unlocked. I let out a sigh seeing Y/n seated on the couch. My face fell, when I saw the dried tears on her cheeks. Without looking at me, she reached in front of her and played a recording on my phone. Hyunjin’s voice filled the room. 

“Hey, it’s Hyunjin. Just reminding you, you’ve got two weeks to get into Y/n’s pants or you lose the bet. Your reputation as campus King is on the line, bro. Oh and don’t forget the cash prize.”

She stood up and kept her stare on the phone. She looked broken.

“Are you going to say something?” Her voice cracked like she was holding back tears.

All I could do was cross to her and take her in my arms. I held onto her, cradling her head against my chest, my heart still racing from the mild panic attack that was just now catching up to me. 

“Thank god you’re still here.” 

I felt a few tears fall from my cheek and into her hair. “Jisung...was that all I was to you? Some payout? A way to keep your title of Biggest Fuckboy on campus?” She pushed away from me and walked to the other side of the room. The distance felt like miles.

I could feel my heart breaking. “What-no. Maybe at the beginning, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter, Jisung? Yes. Yes, it does matter. You can’t keep lying to me and expect me to forgive you every time.” She yelled at me from across the room. I had never seen her this hurt or angry and it killed me.

“Y/n, please. Listen to me.”

“Listen to you? Your buddy Hyunjin just told me the whole fucking thing!”

“No! You have to hear it from me! What he said- it’s all turned around and screwed up. That’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you.” She backed away as I came closer. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me last night?”

“Because I was afraid! I was afraid none of this would be real and this feeling would go away; that the meaning would be lost.”

“The meaning of what, Jisung?”

I grabbed her hand in desperation, scared she might walk out the door at any moment. “This. Right here. Us. You and me.”

“Jisung, there is no you and me anymore.” She said pulling away and walking back towards the bedroom. I raced forward and blocked the doorway. “Jisung, move.” She said pushing against my chest.

“No.”

“Jisung! I want out! I can’t love someone I can’t trust.” She pushed through me with as much force as she could manage. I watched as she picked up the dress she was wearing last night from the floor. She tore off my shirt that she was wearing and threw it in my face. Y/n struggled to put the white dress back on before grabbing her shoes and trying to walk past me. 

“Y/n! Don’t leave, please.”

“How much was I worth Jisung? How much money were you going to get for fucking me?”

“$1,500. But, I didn’t take it! I didn’t even tell them that I slept with you because I didn’t care about the bet anymore. Y/n, please believe me. I will get down on my knees if you want me to.” She just stared at me in the doorway. “I will do anything to get you to stay.” Another silence passed. I felt small under her gaze. She had every right to be furious at me. 

“Kneel.”

Quickly, I got down on my knees. I had never moved faster in my entire life. I looked up at her, sharing the same tear-stained cheeks. To my surprise, she got on her knees with me and wrapped her arms around my neck. 

“Please, don’t hurt me anymore, Ji.”

Nodding I wrapped my arms around her and pulled Y/n into my lap. “I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry. I love you, Y/n. I’m sorry.” I cried into her shoulder. We just sat on the floor of my bedroom, holding onto each other, waiting for what would happen next.

❁

Y/n’s POV

The zipper on Jisung’s graduation gown was being a real pain in the ass. It had gotten stuck two inches from the top. They had already called my name and given me a diploma, so I came to sit with my boyfriend. He fidgeted while I sat in his lap.

“Man, this thing is tight.” 

“Well, keep in mind I didn’t make it for you. I made it for Lia. Also, do you know how many girls would love their waist to fit into this?” I said slapping his shoulder. 

“I think I’d rather be able to breathe.”

“Beauty is pain, Ji.” I said as I messed with his zipped. He nervously tapped on my thigh and waist as he listened to the Dean call out the names of students. “Damn this zipper.” My years of costume study were now being defeated by the zipper on my boyfriends graduation robe. “Ah-ha!” The zipper finally complied and moved up to the top of the robe.

“Han Jisung. Music Production Major.” The Dean called out over the speakers.

“Knock em dead, Ji,” I said kissing his cheek. Jisung smiled and walked up to the stage. Before the Dean could hand him his diploma Jisung unzipped his robe and the entire student body was filled with gasps and laughs. Jisung proudly presented himself wearing the red and black lingerie and corset I had made for Lia in the musical. It left nothing to the imagination, especially below the bodice. 

The look on the Dean’s face was priceless and Jisung twirled in front of him and laughed along with our graduating class. Jisung shook the Dean’s hand and took his diploma. Before he walked off the stage he turned around pushed his robe aside and slapped his own ass receiving many cheers and wolf whistles from the students. 

I laughed as he came back to his seat. He gave me a great big kiss and pulled me back onto his lap. “That was a piece of cake,” Jisung said, wrapping his arms around my stomach and resting his chin on my shoulder. I kissed his forehead with a big grin.

“I have never been so attracted to a man in lingerie.”

❁

Requests are open! Just send and ask, lovelies!

Masterlist

#han jisung #han jisung imagines #han jisung college au #han jisung fuck boy au #han jisung imagine #han jisung angst #han jisung fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung oneshot #han jisung au edit #han jisung au imagine #han jisung au #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #stray kids au imagine #stray kids au imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids incorrect quotes #stray kids reactions #stray kids social media au #stray kids soulmate au #stray kids masterlist #stray kids requests are open #stray kids requests #stray kids college au #stray kids school au #kpop imagines #kpop preferences #rubber ducky you're the one

[tartagilicious]

snezhnaya does not believe in broken hearts > childe

→ pov: there is no pov i’m in love with another fictional man. I’m a little rusty writing wise because of school, but someone said childe enemies to lovers and who i am i to say no to that 🥴 so, here’s his boss battle with a ✨twist✨

→ ib: this comic on twt, pls go support it i love it and cry whenever someone mentions it. also, like the comic, childe’s delusion form won’t have a mask just so it’s easier to write his expressions!

→ *there are a good amount of lines that are taken directly from his battle in the game, so beware of detailed spoilers!

You can trust him. But, don’t get too involved. The battle he pursues is dangerous; it’s not something a normal person can withstand.

Whether you realised it or not, every moment you had spent with him began to carve out a hole in your chest, bittersweetly wearing away every layer of protection you had unconsciously built up. It wasn’t a well-done job by any means; the edges it left were particularly jagged, but the softness Childe still managed to pull from them left you stunned every time it chose to peek its head out.

“Don’t be so on edge, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

It suddenly became a daily routine to expect him at some point, whether it entailed him coming upon you doing a commission in the middle of the mountains, or you crossing paths in Liyue while some type of street food balanced precariously in his grip.

Yet, what you failed to notice was that most times, he would take care to place another of the same delicacy into your hand, as if expecting to see you. Childe would meet you in the middle of the mountains not by chance, but rather by a sense of curious boredom, wherein your company was the only suitable way to pass the time.

Subsequently, the only question remaining in a scenario such as this, was what the other meant to each of them — were you truly able to push your obligations aside, or were you only getting close enough to have enough leverage to strike?

On any occasion a disarming laugh left his mouth, or he lent you his support without question, you failed to remember that you were pitched as enemies in the first place. You inevitably no longer felt the same wariness towards the harbinger over time, but it only made you that much more guilty to know just how easily you had begun to trust him.

Yet no matter the hopeful sentiments your sputtering heart provided you, you knew one thing to be true that would always remain so: you would never be on the same side.

“You’ve already fulfilled your task as guide, so why do you still linger here? Haven’t you already seen enough trouble for today?”

You had entered the Golden House apprehensively, perhaps hoping even over the Exuvia’s safety that you wouldn’t meet him there. But coming upon it and hearing the one voice you had been dreading, you begrudgingly came to terms with the fact that you would have to face reality eventually.

“Huh?” Paimon is startled by the sudden disembodied voice. “Who’s there?!”

Childe reveals himself by coming up the stairs you had just now ascended, his saunter maddeningly casual. “If you were Fatui, I imagine that you would be entitled to a generous reward from the Tsaritsa yourself.”

The way he tilts his head with such fake amiability grates across you like nails on a chalkboard. “But now you’re nothing but dross -- and you’re in my way.”

“It looks like I was just in time, then.”

Childe laughs. “Although I’m deeply grateful to you for helping me so effortlessly find this secret location… don’t you think that trying to stop me now would only be a wasted effort?”

“Stopping the mora mints, hiding away the Exuvia,” He laughs again, and your hand instinctively makes a small stretch for your weapon. “And sending you. The Qixing are really pulling out all the stops this time.”

“So you were planning to take the gnosis all along?” You ask flatly, your words swallowed by your own hesitation just after you’d barely gotten out the last word. Even though this mishap wasn’t very detectable, shame burns the back of your throat at the honesty of the reflex.

“As one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, it’s my duty to see the will of the Tsaritsa fulfilled. And she will get which she desires.”

You shake your head, fully grounding your hand and preparing to draw your sword. “Not if I don’t allow you to get near the Exuvia.”

“I’m not looking for your blessing, ___.” Childe narrows his eyes and takes note of this action, the implications of it drawing up a wanton sense of disappointment he had long been expecting. This varies little from your own dismay, unbeknownst to him. “There’s nothing you could do to stop me anyways.”

“The time for discussion and diplomacy has already long passed. I mean, if it were up to me, I would have skipped that stage to begin with… but, I’m willing to do as the Tsaritsa deems fit.”

“Either way,” An eyebrow arches as an equally intrigued smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “It seems we’re now coming upon my favourite part --  a simple pleasure, and one that I am oh-so delighted to be sharing with you.”

it’s as if a pin drops, and he grins. “The battle.”

You now stand at a fork. Two paths stare at you with expectant eyes, both equally enticing; but the drawbacks of the indulgent solution unfortunately long outweigh those of their obvious counterpart. It’s a decision that must be made on behalf of Liyue, not the hurt of a single heart.

Paimon scoffs, drawing you from your thoughts. “So you’re the type that goes looking for trouble, huh?”

Childe’s laughter rings out, and he throws his head back as if he had heard something particularly funny. “I guess you could say that!”

“When Signora offended the deities outside of the cathedral in Mondstadt, she swiftly left the scene once her mission was accomplished. Instead of confronting you directly, she chose to rely on the snow and ice to make an escape.”

“I would take that as far more than its face value. When she faces a worthy opponent, she will prioritise her mission, weigh the outcomes, and consider the consequences of her actions…” He explains, trailing off with an inexplicable smile. “But as for me, the greatest pleasure of being a harbinger lies in the opportunities I have to cross blades with such opponents.”

“That doesn’t mean we’ll let what happened in Mondstadt ever happen again.”

“Oh? So you do intend to fight me? Good.” Childe’s excitement baffles you and pumps adrenaline into your veins simultaneously. “I won’t kill you, ___, I’ll just play along. To feel the thrill of battle!”

“Besides,” He puts his hands out in an aimless gesture. “You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams. But hey, try to relish in the fight anyways, because if you ask me… without that, what else is there?”

“I could never defeat you?!” His words get the better of you and you laugh in disbelief. “You’re completely delusional.”

He returns the laugh delightedly, igniting a fire of mixed emotions in your chest. “Fighting talk, I love it! Now, let’s see you live up to it.”

You draw your sword at the drop of his last word, taking a step back in preparation for what was to come. Childe, meanwhile, stands watching you with a brewing sensation of glee.

“This chance isn’t easy to come by, so show me all you’ve got.” Arrows infused with water begin to fly in your direction, though you avoid them in haste. “So very few ever get the chance to square off with a Fatui Harbinger, so come now, amuse me. And don’t you dare disappoint.”

You find yourself gritting your teeth at the arrogant words, taken aback at his challenging tone. “You say your colleague has found me praiseworthy, but tell me to only amuse you? That’s a disappointing downgrade.”

A lapse in the time Childe has to shoot gives you enough time to approach him, throwing out a strike of your sword that he catches with his own weapon moulded by water.

“It’s by no means an insult, ___, I’m merely proposing a challenge.” He looks at the way your blades grit against each other and grins. “And it seems you’ve accepted it.” You jump back with the force of his attack to propel yourself. A barrage of geo-aligned magic is summoned beneath your opponent with a stomp to the marble floor.

However, he sidesteps it in a similar fashion, and through a quick exchange of harsh blows, both of you stand back to scope things out. Still, the one aspect that continues to overshadow the rest of your thoughts is the way that Childe’s personality has changed under the scrutiny of battle.

The playful tone he normally sports is long gone, now replaced with a deeper and more realistic one; perhaps even slightly more menacing. It’s as if he’s been flipped into a completely different person.

He laughs maniacally as he uses his hydro vision to drive waves of water out towards you, fully intent on at least knocking you off your feet. The burst of elemental energy ends when Childe leaps back onto the ground. This gives you the leverage you need to go in with another geo attack, this time catching him off guard and launching him to the side.

Childe coughs at the force of the action, his lips curving up into a smile. “Good! No wonder signora was so wary of you.”

His body is encased in an impenetrable bubble of water in an instant, a flash of deep light lashing out from the centre before revealing Childe once again. His swords of water have since been infused by electro energy, and his clothes are darker -- the most noticeable difference, however, is the Fatui mask that had previously been slung over his hair now laid properly over his face.

“Well, that just means I can go all out! Brace yourself, this is about to get tough…” He takes a few preliminary steps. “Show me what you can do against the might of a Harbinger!”

The strikes do indeed get faster. Childe toughens up against seemingly every one of your attacks, dodging most if not all of with even more ease than before. you grit your teeth as you rush to keep up with the frequent blows thrown at you. But, in a panic and reflexive drawback, you retract your sword and desperately block with your arm instead.

Silence entraps the incredibly large room as your sword clatters noisily to the floor. Both the cloth running up the expanse of your arm and wrist piece are slashed considerably, all to reveal a shallow but long gash.

The sensation of electro wastes little time in taking effect, burning up your arm and inducing an inevitable cry of pain as both of you take a step back. Malleable emotion hangs in the heavy atmosphere, waiting to be addressed or otherwise plucked down from their higher place.

Though, his reaction in that split second shows that he might not be just as lost as you’d thought.

Childe has little courage to speak up on any of these topics, but in whatever way he chooses to ignore the berating voice in his head, he can’t push away the sensation of regret swimming in his chest. Watching your face briefly contort in pain you try so hard to hide, yet standing close and being unable to do anything about it -- it’s more real than any understating word his brain could ever feed him.

“What are you doing just standing there?” You suddenly taunt, your voice slightly hoarse as you turn to hide the blood that seeps into your clothing. “I thought you said that you were going to go all out.”

Childe knows that you're right. He had said that, but what would it mean for him to continue? Brawling with you brought the same drunkening high of adrenaline he’s been chasing since he escaped from the abyss all those years ago-- although hurting you wasn’t any sort of intention he’d ever had.

“...I’m only offering a moment to buffer, but I must say -- you’re not bad. Your swordsmanship is quite impressive.” Childe desperately swallows back anything extra that pops into his head and twirls his electrified staff. Personal desires are the last thing he can afford to pay attention to. “But, that’s about as far as you’ll get.”

You sloppily intercept a rough attack that threatens to send you flying backwards, gritting your teeth as you push back with the force of your Anemo power. It goes well for all but the way your arm begins to falter under the stress. Your head naturally follows your body’s trajectory, yet in your panic, the stroke your toed boot makes across the floor leaves a trail of blistering geo behind.

The elements present react immediately, resulting in a blinding explosion. You’re thrown off too quickly and land unsteadily, pain shooting up your arm as you exhale shakily -- you’d never had the misfortune of experiencing a hydro and electro vision working together before now.

“___, are you okay?” Paimon asks frantically, your tiny hands trying their best to locate the heart of the wound on your injured arm. “That cut looks deep, do you really think it’s a good idea to keep pushing yourself?”

You shake your head in dismissal as your eyes move with the clearing dust. “It’s fine, but my sword--?”

Once the haze disperses, you spot your sword almost instantly -- however, you also find Childe’s staff sticking haphazardly into the marble floor right next to it, its owner nowhere to be found.

A laugh sounds from behind you. “I really didn’t think you had that card hidden up your sleeve!”

Your heart drops into your stomach when you whip around to see Childe standing beside Rex Lapis’ corpse, his grin wide like he’d already won the match between you.

“You were just playing us to get close to the Exuvia!”

“Oh, quiet down. Don’t be so quick to judge. You’ve seen this world, you of all people should know...” Childe steadily gathers a ball of electro energy in his palm, the lightning fusing around his gloved hand before materialising. “That this should have been expected!”

The sound is deafening as Childe forces his hand into the Exuvia, opposing elements colliding and responding in turn. “I’ll be taking Morax’s gnosis now!”

Shockwaves come out like tides as the entire room shakes under the pressure of the single action. You’re quick to shield your injured arm from the battering wind, while Paimon latches onto the ornament covering your elbow.

Yet, much to everyone’s surprise, the hand that emerges and unfolds under the glaring light is very much empty.

Childe is taken aback by the particles of light that float from his gloved hand, laughing in frustration as well as bewilderment. “I see. Well, this is most unexpected.”

He turns to look at you through his mask, taking in the equally as surprised expression that moulds your features. But the detail that begins to surface ignites a different, and entirely real type of irritation in him, is the way that your eyes begin to change.

“Morax’s gnosis is far from another old antique,” Ningguang had prefaced this when you had visited her in the Jade Chamber, her words stable and forward. “It is a sign of Liyue’s reigning power, and also a symbol for the people to look towards; as not only a god, but also the keeper of peace. This is not something that would be hidden carelessly.”

“Many people throughout my years as a Qixing have tried to outsmart the layers close to the gnosis, however, none have succeeded. Its protector is someone of utmost secrecy whose identity I must not reveal, not even to you.”

She had sighed, placing a warm yet distant smile on her face. “But, I believe this method will continue to deter unwanted hands, along with you in their capable stead.”

Your eyes widen as you take an instinctual step back. You’d found it nearly impossible when tasked with feeding the Harbinger outdated details, though your heart feels heavy in realising that it had gone to show how much Childe truly did learn to trust you.

But, it had worked, hadn’t it? Because of this, the exuvia was somewhere far away -- in capable hands, as Ningguang had phrased it. Yet you feel little want to celebrate this small victory, immediately reminded of the situation it’s caused as Childe’s vision flares up around him, warping his figure in your eyes.

“You… You beat me to it, didn’t you?” Childe doesn’t miss your sense of victory being quickly replaced by fear, but in a fit of irritation, he takes no time in disregarding it.

He leaps haphazardly into the centre of the room, forcing you to careen out of the way as his electro vision fries the air around you. It becomes stuffy and unbearably hot in the enclosed space entirely too quickly. But, throughout the sudden drastic change in their atmosphere, you can’t help but notice the second transformation that Childe has gone through; yet rather this time, it’s much more drastic.

Once the air dissipates, Childe leaps back to the floor once again, his heavy military boots marking his step indefinitely. The attire he wears is fittingly close to armour -- presenting a deep blue and purple suit that fits like a second skin.

“Not a bad trick,” His spear of water that had since been lodged in the marble floor flies into his hand, twirling to rest on his shoulder as his voice stabilises. “But, this is going to cost you!”

The same weapon is pushed into the ground with overflowing destructive power. It quickly runs veins out like web beneath your feet, electro charge roughly and abruptly breaking the floor to reveal another space below.

You're dragged down indiscriminately amongst the falling debris, roughly colliding with the sharp edges before hitting the ground once again. Your arm, still slightly bleeding and swollen, screams at the harsh impact. Though having landed on your stomach meant that other parts of your body had absorbed most of the shock, natural reflexes had forced you to receive some of the heavier damage in your arm regardless.

There wasn’t a lot that you could do about this, however, other than pick yourself up again and hope that Childe was still too high up to see your pain clearly. Thankfully, lo and behold, a purple light just then begins to descend almost hauntingly through the smoke. It blinks out briefly before revealing Childe again as every messy part of the room is blown away by an incredible elemental power.

You hold up your uninjured arm to combat against the strong wind, wincing as your body is forced back.

“You got to the gnosis ahead of me, didn’t you?” Childe’s staff finally rests in his hand, however, the aura he gives off alone is enough to make you antsy. “Did you simply move faster? Or… did you leak the information regarding the Golden House to me on purpose?”

“...You’ve outsmarted me, ___. But that doesn’t mean the information won’t be in my hands by the time we’re done.” Another electric current fills the room as he moves to make an attack. “So, fight hard knowing there's something of such value on the line.”

Your eyes flicker around the room for your sword as you say, “How do you know that I have any of the information you need? That’s betting a lot on nothing.”

He laughs, the familiar sound chilling.

“You don’t have to be omnipotent to take a best guess. Besides, I’m confident enough in knowing that you’re smart enough to play me, so a battle between friends to determine that isn’t too much of a stretch, is it?”

You spot the sword and take a hesitant step towards it, attempting to return his words as a distraction. “It’s strange to call me a friend and threaten to put a knife in my chest in the same sentence. I thought you said that you weren’t going to kill me?”

Childe pauses, debating his next words carefully. “...Conditions are ever-changing.”

“If they were going to change so drastically, you should have told me earlier. Maybe then I could’ve figured out how to explain something I don’t know the answer to.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, ___.” His delusion’s deeper tone makes even the most playful of his words sound threatening. You stand your ground, though, knowing that no matter what your apprehension presents, nothing will change the fact that your weapon is only a mere step away.

“I know that you can tell me.”

You know I can? The supposedly comforting statement bounces around in your head, creating a ringing in your ears and a painful drumming against your temples. It’s not that simple, you think. There's little he wouldn’t be able to get from you if gone about the right way, however, as long as the information remained important, it would stay unattainable to even him.

You grit your teeth, feet twisting boldly into a position that’ll make it easier to leap in the direction you need. “I won’t tell you anything,” The leap is short and filled with almost too much strength, but you make up for any shortcomings by turning to block the incredibly close blow Childe had thrust out to stop you.

You push your sword against his with the force of all of your irritation, jaw clenched as your words come out in a single breath. “Because I know that I don’t have anything to say to the person that betrayed me.”

Unsurprisingly, words like those are some of the last that Childe wants to hear at that moment. No amount of guilt tripping or humiliation was typically enough to get to him, however, your simple declaration hits him in a spot that he’s long tried to bury.

Childe scoffs, pretending that he hadn’t blatantly hesitated. “You’re not fit to be here if you’re shaken by the betrayal of someone like me. Take it from me and give up while you’re ahead.”

You’re stunned by Childe’s brutal words for a brief moment, leaving him an important window to more easily knock your weapon away, out of your weakened hands. His blade meets your throat with little hesitation, the cool water stinging against your overheated skin.

Childe’s eyes wander to the way your body turns slightly to protect your injured arm, and disregarding the way his stomach twists, he shakes his head. “What’s wrong, ___? The way you are now won’t be able to defeat me.”

He looks at the way you hesitate and the already putrid feeling in his gut turns rotting. You make no more effort to fight back despite your strength, nor move the weapon lying firmly right over one of your weakest points.

“I might end up killing you if you don’t tell me where the gnosis is.” Childe tries to push you further, but is taken aback when your brows knit as if frustrated. You know very well that he’s someone with bad intentions, yet why do you continue to yearn to see the good in him? To see the carefree person you’d known before today?

You don’t respond, unmoving beneath his heavy gaze for all but the way your hands begin to slowly hover up towards the sword pressuring your neck.

Why can’t you stop?

Your shaking hands take the blade lightly in your grip, the vision-adjacent water searing your battered skin. A droplet of sweat slides down your cheek yet all you can focus on is the way Childe’s eyes instantly delve into panic.

“If you’re going to kill me, you should hurry up and save us both the suffering.”

The sudden powerful statement sounds unreal coming from such a weakened person, blood running down your fingers as you force his sword away.

“What makes you think that your death would cause me any harm?” Childe’s heart thumps wildly beneath his clothes as he lets his weapon be redirectioned, but his brows furrow. “I used you. Do you have yet to realise that?”

“You think I’m so inept that I would believe in someone so fast?” Your fingers go to nestle in the fabric of your skirt, the clothing acting as a temporary shield from the pain. “It was no secret that you weren’t someone to be trusted.”

“Then why lead me here if you’re so confident in yourself? Surely you don’t think that picking a fight with me was a sound idea?”

“You came here yourself. I was never looking to fight.” You mumble truthfully, taking your hand away from your skirt to reveal your palms stained with blood. “...I only said what I did because I don't like hurting those I care about.”

Childe stands paralysed in shock upon hearing such honest words, his mouth opening and closing as he rushes to process their meaning. What could he possibly say to that?

You hadn’t left a single mark on him despite believing that you were fighting for your life, whereas he had prioritised outside matters over listening to his internal backlash -- he had hurt you in a simple twisted warning.

“___, you--”

He’s barely able to get a sentence out before you sigh, going up to him with little hope before wrapping your arms around him.

Childe exhales unsteadily, his weapons then evaporating as his torso and arms instinctively straighten up. Moments of complete stillness go by unhindered. But, you wait patiently for any type of response from the man in your arms.

“...___.” He finally mumbles this from above your head, voice incredibly soft. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You’re at a loss as for how to respond, because truthfully -- the answer is mostly lost even to you. All you can do is drown in the silence that you’ve created, heart picking out the worst parts of the way his posture stays tense.

Childe groans abruptly, his delusion slowly beginning to break down to reveal his normal clothes. “Come on,”

As if something restricting him had suddenly been removed, he staggers and sinks to his knees, body going limp at the sudden lapse in support of his vision. Though fortunately, you follow him even while he goes down.

Your arms struggle to support the sudden weight as his chin lulls forward, colliding with your shoulder just as your knees hit the floor. He’s not entirely weak, you think, noticing the way he purposely tries to shift a lot of pressure off of you. Though you don’t know much about his delusion, it seems viable to assume that the form had just exhausted a decent amount of energy.

You feel the heat of his hands hesitantly coming upon your sides, but much to your disappointment, they quickly retract before he mumbles, “You’re a fool.”

“I know.” You whisper. “But, it’s too late. I can’t give up on you now.”

Childe scoffs, the sound muffled by your shoulder as he brings his arms up around you. He embraces you so tightly that it’s as if you’ve struck something inside him.

Those words are so unfair, they almost give me hope.

#hey I’m only like 75% satisfied with this but content is content baby #genshin impact #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #chilumi #yall thought you got rid of me huh #I’m here to spam writings within the next week to the best of my ability and there’s nothing you can do to stop me >:D

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter six: You literally have to be fucking with me

Summary: Y/n and Tendou are deeply in love. Living on the other side of Tokyo now, the Monsters are still up to their old shit. They even opened a few businesses for Tax reasons. Even though it’s been almost three years later, Y/n still has never been able to understand how they have avoided the law several times. When Tendou’s Mother reappears in his life, Y/n is confused as Tendou claimed she is dead. Finding out Tendou is being forced to take over the family business by his Mother, she soon learns the truth behind Tendou’s reason he never gets in legal trouble is his family business. His mother is quick to decline Y/n as his future wife and tries to set up Tendou with someone she sees more fit. What will happen to Y/n and Tendou? What will happen to Tendou’s “family business”? What does this mean for the future of the Monsters?

TW: Swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of stabbing, blood, stiches, death 

AN: SORRY THIS IS SO LATEJIDFBVHKBS I WAS SHOWING MY FRIEND DEATHNOTE NVNJDFK

______________________________________________________________ Third Person Pov - Tuesday Night 

Tendou sat at the table beside Y/n anxiously. She noticed the way he shook his leg against hers. 

“Satori… What’s going on? I have never seen you this way before?” 

“I don’t… I am just… very nervous, the person you will meet is someone to m-” Before he could finish his sentence the front doorbell rang. He shot up from his seat and rushed over to the door. He ripped it open to see his mother in front of him. He rolled his eyes. 

“Well hello to you too Tori.” She said with a laugh. He did not say anything back, only pointed her to the dinning room where y/n sat at the table. 

Y/n stood up extending her arm to the woman now in front of her. 

“Hello I am Tendou’s Fiancé, Y/n.” She said politely. 

“Hello I am Tendou’s mother, Kohaku.” 

“I’m sorry, did you say his mother?” 

“Yes I did. This one isn’t too smart now is she, Tori?” She said as she sat down in Tendou’s seat. 

“Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute Satori?” Y/n said, the anger was seeping out into each word. He nodded and followed her in the kitchen. 

Y/n looked out to see the woman just sitting at the table as she was on her phone. 

“What in the absolute fuck is going on here Satori?” She asked, angry. 

“Well, you see my mom’s not dead, and that woman at the table happens to be her.” 

“You literally have to be fucking with me.” 

“I wish I was Y/n. She is the one I am inheriting the business from.” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Holy fuck.” She said as she grabbed the counter for support. 

“So not only is she alive but a fucking Yakuza boss???” Y/n asked. 

“Yes.” 

“If I didn’t love you so much I would probably kill you right here.” She said.

“I'm sure the other Monsters would have a problem with that.” Tendou said with a smirk. Y/n laughed at his comment. 

“They can literally eat my ass.” 

“Don’t tell Matsukawa or he might be down. He has seen us have sex three times now.” 

“After your mother leaves, don’t tell them.” 

“Oo? Is this a rough sex on the table kinda night.” Y/n got noticeably flustered as she swat at him. 

“Shut up! Let’s just fucking go back and get this fucking meal over with.” Y/n said before she walked away. 

“Sorry about that, just had an urgent personal matter to discuss.” Y/n said as she sat down at the table. 

“Tori tends to tell people I am dead, but I never expected you to act like such a bitch about it.” Tendou’s mother said so casually. 

Before anyone could say anything else, the food was brought out by some cooks Tendou hired for the night. 

“So Tori, since I am here now, let’s talk business after our meal, in private.”  She said the last part as she shot eye daggers at Y/n. 

“Can’t we just fucking talk over our meal?” He asked. 

“No, you are going to be running shit now so it’s fucking different. Don’t try to act tough to me for your… whatever she is.” She said as she gestured to Y/n. 

“I literally have done nothing and you chose to come in her like some entitled bitch.” Y/n whispered under her breath. 

“I’d watch that tongue if you want to keep it.” Kohaku snapped at Y/n. 

After the meal was finished, Tendou and his mother headed up to his office.

 “Why are you being such a cunt to my fiancé?” He asked as soon as the door slammed shut. 

“Well if you had better taste in women we wouldn’t have an issue, now would we?”

“You can fuck right off. You can fuck with me, you can fuck with my friends, but if you fuck with her, I will be the one to kill you.” He said as he moved right into her face. She pulled back away from him and said; 

“You will have to get in line, the other rogue half has been causing us hell for some time now. After finding out who’s mother I was. I guess a couple of your old classmates are around that part of town now.” 

“Like I give a fuck.” He snapped. 

“You will once they come for what will hurt you the most.” She said.

“The fuck do you mean?” 

“I have seen the way you are around your monsters, I have seen the way you treat me, and I have seen the way you treat Y/n. You have a soft spot so you better fucking fix that, or I will do it for you.” 

“Like fuck you will you dumb bitch!” He shouted as he slammed his hands down on his desk. 

“So which ones of your gang are in?” 

“All of them.” 

“Really? That one guy, well I must say he seems pretty suspicious. I would watch your back if I was you.” She said back to him. 

“None of my friends would betray me, ever.” 

“You think what you want Tori. When the truth comes out, I hope you are prepared to shoot.” She stood up as she approached the office door. 

“I will text you tomorrow with more details about shit when you want to show your boss some respect.” 

“Fuck you.” He said as she left. He stood up and slammed his hands down on the desk. “FUCK!” he screamed out. 

The sound of the door slamming into the downstairs wall alerted him as he got up to see what was happening. He noticed Kenma being carried in by Terushima and Hanamaki. Y/n was rushing them into the dining room as she pushed all the plates off, shattering them. She rushed off to grab something in the distance. They placed kenma down as Shirabu came rushing in with Suna holding first aid kits. 

“What the fuck happened?” He then noticed the red stain on the side of Kenma’s shirt. 

“We were out at the bar and this guy came up, addressed us as the monsters and started a fist fight. We thought we all had someone distracted but one snuck in and stabbed Kenma at the table.” Terushima said. “Mattsun and Mad are still back there I think.” 

Tendou looked around as he noticed everyone had fresh blood splattered on them, even Shirabu. Y/n came rushing back in as she placed a pile of towels on the table. She walked over to Tendou as he pulled her into his chest. 

“Will he be okay?” Y/n asked. 

“Yeah, I may not have been in medical school long, but enough to know this guy sucked at stabbing. A few stitches and he will be as good as new.” Shirabu said. 

“Who the fuck were they?” Tendou asked. 

“We think some fucks from a gang or something trying to get street credit.” Just as Shirabu was finished stitching up Kenma. Kyotani and Maytsukawa walked in. 

“Is he fucking okay?” Kyotani barked up. 

“He is now Mad.” Terushima said.  

“Shit look at you too.” Y/n said as the two were dripped blood on the floor. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not ours.” Matsukawa said with his sadistic smirk. 

“We got you a fucking present in our trunk.” Kyotani said. Kyotani, Tendou, Matsukawa and Y/n walked outside knowing Kenma is going to be okay. 

Matsukawa popped the trunk, there sat a man who was bloody and beat. 

“Who the fuck is this?” Tendou asked. 

“The fuck that stabbed Kenma.” Matsukawa said. 

“And the rest?” 

“Four out of seven fucks escaped .” Kyotani said. 

“And the last two?” Y/n asked. 

“Dead.” Said matsukawa with his sadistic smirk again as he grabbed his bloody bat from the back seat and swung it up on his shoulder. 

_____________________________________________________________

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