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chanluster · 4 years ago

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business proposals | {m}

oneshot | ceo! au | 10.9k words

“It was about time you addressed the cat and mouse game you and your boss have been playing for a time.”

s u m m a r y > > clashing heads with your annoyingly attractive boss was your everyday activity, but when a new, beautiful client comes in for the day you find yourself getting jealous. mr. lee, catching on, uses it to his absolute advantage, causing you to end up in a situation you did not think would end well. fortunately for you, with the way your dark-minded ceo’s mind worked, despite the hiccups in the middle, it ended just perfectly.

w a r n i n g s > > ceo! minho, secretary! reader, you get so annoyed at him all the time, he annoys you all the time, constant teasing, a fuckload of swearing, soooo much (kinda shit) sexual tension, flirtation back and FORTH, titles of endearment, minho is such a fucking dom, reader is a fucking BRAT, making out, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving) you try to give him blueballs, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), semi-public sex (i mean they do it in his office so like), multiple orgasms, y’all be arguing during it all too HELP, minho has a sir kink sjsjskke, minho is so AGGRESSIVE HOLY SHIT, SO MUCH degradation, use of gags? (i mean he uses his tie so) basically you are 100% minho’s bitch by the end period!!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > hello horny fia is back again with a minho oneshot because she can not control herself!!!1!1! thank you @hyuckworld for so much inspo and helping me out omfg the tie thing still on my mind !1!1! anyway this is inspired by minho’s soribada look cause he mf SERVED! and i hope y’all enjoy !

back to masterlist

YOUR SMILE WAS MORE LIKE A FLASH OF TEETH.

“For the last time,” you seethed, trying your very best to contain your bubbling temper, “You cannot see him if you don’t have an appointment.”

The woman before you, a striking image of curls and curves, fitted red dress, white blazer, and Louboutins elevating her height, knifed you with finely-lined eyes. “But I don’t need an appointment! Mr. Lee said so himself I could arrive at his office when I wished to speak with him!”

You pursed your lips. Of course Mr. Fucking Lee said so.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it, Miss Kim.” You turned to your computer, opening up the list of clients intended to meet your boss this afternoon. Sure enough, this woman’s name was not accompanied with the others. Once again, he had said some pretty words, but had not reminded you of them so you could write it down for official backing.

You could not help typing a little furiously. It was like he was trying to make your life harder.

“I demand to see him!” Miss Kim exclaimed, raising her voice so the other employees, who were scattered before you at their desks, working away, paused, witnessing the commotion. “I did not travel from another city to be rejected!”

“Ma’am,” you guttered, hands on the telephone, ready to call security, when the misty, glass-like door beside you swung upon.

A firm, sultry voice resonated in the room.

“What is the meaning of this noise?”

Out stepped the one man you were hoping would stay seated in his office.

You turned around in your seat, looking up at the suited figure of Lee Minho — CEO of the corporation you worked under, and the mastermind behind the technological revolution in your city.

He certainly looked the part: black suit unbuttoned with his tie hanging, white shirt contrasting the colours. His trousers hugged his thighs a little too tightly for your own good, designer branded shoes adorning his feet. His dark brown locks were cascading over his forehead, and his calculating eyes assessed the room, finding the reason for such noise behind his doors.

His gaze settled on the woman. “Ah, Miss Kim!” He declared, a known dazzling smile upon his lips. “It’s good you’ve arrived.”

“Of course I would come,” she said, darting her glare back to you. “This little assistant of yours was ready to throw me out of the building.”

A slight tilt of his head. “Oh, really?”

Then, his eyes descended on you, seated before him, and you noticed something already stirring behind them. “And why was this ‘little assistant of mine’ booting you out of here?”

You pointed to your computer. “She’s not on your list of appointments for today.”

“So?” A glance at the woman. “When a pretty lady asks to see me, you oblige her, understand?”

Seething, you lock your hands together. “Then what is the point of the list when you won’t follow it?”

You nearly gasped in anger when you caught slight mischief in his eyes. “Keeping you on your toes, ____.”

“As always,” you hissed, returning his malicious smirk with a scowl.

He only chuckled at your lack of amusement, turning to the woman once more. “Miss Kim,” he addressed her, opening the door, gesturing for her to enter. “Come inside.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee,” she simpered out, widening her sharp grin at you before going inside his office.

The man stood, regarding you for a minute. You glanced at him, frown still there. “Yes?”

“I am not to be disturbed,” he said, gaze a little too intense for your liking. “Is that understood?”

You made sure to match his stare. “Yes, sir.”

And you could have sworn his lips twitched upward when he turned to his office, entering after the woman.

When the door slid shut, you let out a shuddering breath.

Why in hell were you holding your breath?

“God,” you muttered, furiously typing away on your computer, noticing another presence approaching you. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

“Do not tell me you’re talking about Mr. Lee here.”

You looked up, and rolled your eyes to find Kim Seungmin, one of the salesmen for the firm, standing before you, files in hand and a knowing smile on his lips. “I am, as a matter of fact,” you said. “And how much I want to kill him.”

The man gave you a look. “Now see, I don’t think ‘kill’ was the word I thought you’d use.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then what word do you think I’d use?”

“I don’t know, like…” his adorable smile was so unlike his words. “Kiss? Fuck even?”

You let out a harsh gasp, nearly whacking his arm with your scattered files. “Oh my God!”

“You can’t deny it, ____!” Seungmin pointed to the door. “You have a massive crush on him!”

“How can you even say that!” you demanded, pulling you near him so the others around you did not hear. “I hate that cocky bastard.”

Your friend clicked his tongue at your statement. “Then can you please explain to me why you both got enough sexual tension to suffocate the entire building?”

“We do not,” you refused instantly, picking up your mug of coffee. “You’re mistaking my bloodlust with just lust.”

“Can you at least stop pretending to me that you don’t want to suck his dick?”

Nearly choking on your coffee, you struggled it down, sending a sharp glare. “I don’t!” you raised your chin. “I bet it’s tiny anyway. Wouldn't have anything for me to suck on.”

Now that, of all the things you said that afternoon, was a complete, full blown, almost offensive, lie.

Not that you’ve caught a glimpse at the package which settled between Lee Minho’s legs. Well, you had, to your own shame, and were burning at the clothed sight, proving your little claim extremely incorrect. Your boss, devastatingly, had something substantial going for him.

Seungmin’s little laugh had you dropping down to reality. “You were thinking about his cock just now, weren’t you?”

Cheeks burning, you waved him off, groaning as you went back to your computer. Minho’s appointments looked oh so interesting. “Fuck off, Min.”

His laughter only deepened as he stepped away. “There’s no hope for you, girl. You keep daydreaming about that.”

If it weren’t for the people around you, you would have happily sent him away with a middle finger, but figured you should hang onto any scrap of professionalism left in you. The only thing you could do now was write up the new appointments for next week. Or perhaps play some Solitaire.

Anything to stop you thinking about him.

You twisted your lips into a scowl.

This was so unbelievable. Lee Minho was the greatest, most notorious asshole you knew of, yet here you were, like an absolute moron, pondering over him as if he was a lost love. All the time, when it was in meetings, or just bumping each other in the office breakroom, he managed to piss you off without effort, watching you enraged with a disgustingly ravishing smile on his revoltingly beautiful face. It was so, goddamn unfair, that he could rile you up so easily when all you could do was make him more amused.

To hell with him and his fine ass, you thought as you closed all tabs, opening up Solitaire.

Just as you thought you found a moment’s peace in this building, you heard the phone ring drastically loud, stopping you from completing a full set of one deck. Already irritated, you tried to suppress it as you picked up the handset, pressing it to your ear. “Minho and Company?”

The voice that greeted your ears made it incredibly hard to reign in your irritation. “Have you finished the list?”

“No,” was your clipped reply. You focused on the game, matching the cards to the deck of hearts.

“And when will this list finish?”

“I’m a busy woman, you know,” you drawled, aggressively clicking on your mouse. “You give me so much work it’s hard to keep up.”

“Oh, really?” Fuck him, you could hear the taunting in his voice. “So you don’t spend all day playing those stupid Windows games on your work computer?”

Your anger paused, eyes widening. The lack of response had the man cackling through the phone. “I bet you’re on that same card game you always play when you’re trying to avoid my tasks. What was the name again?”

“I can assure you, sir, I am not playing Solitaire.” You then sucked in an agitated breath at your mistake.

“Ah, that’s right.” You hated how you could hear the smirk playing on his lips. “Playing Solitaire and ignoring my work.”

Were you mistaken, or had his voice descended an octave? With the way you bit your lip, you knew you were caught anyway. “I’ll get the list done.”

“Mmm,” he got out, the low baritone still there. “And address me properly when you talk to me.”

Oh my God. “I’ll get the damned list done, sir.”

A small pause. “Good girl.”

And the line cut off.

Your hand nearly went limp holding the phone.

Good girl.

“Shut the fuck up,” you muttered, slamming the handset back in its place, feeling yourself heat up a frightening rate. “Cocky prick.”

All those curses towards him, and yet your cheeks still burned.

You did not cease your profanity — this time aiming more towards your own self.

Dear Lord. You really were in for it this time.

MINHO AND MISS KIM WERE STILL IN THAT ROOM BY THE TIME YOU HAD TO LEAVE THE OFFICE.

You decided to stay a little longer, finishing up the last of the tasks he’d assigned to you, and an hour later, when Seungmin passed your desk to exit the building, he darted his eyes to his boss’ door and wiggled his brows your way.

“Shut up,” you snapped at him, earning a cheeky smile.

“I wonder what they’re doing in there,” he thought out loud, propping a hand on your table.

You typed away, trying to dismiss the worst assumptions in your mind. “I don’t particularly care.”

Seungmin, damn him, could see right through you. “Then why are you still here? Pretending that I didn’t catch you with your ear to the door hours before?”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. About three hours into the meeting, you became so restless you tried to listen in on what exactly was going on. It sounded so bizarre, when Minho had to sit in hours-long meetings every other day, but him alone in his office with that girl didn’t settle well with you.

“Oh, jealousy!” Seungmin chanted, pointing at your face. “Is that you I see before me?”

“Go away!” you waved him off, glowering at him. “I’m not jealous of some girl I saw today. Her and Minho can do whatever they want.”

“Whatever you say, ____,” he said, but the knowing smile lingered, aggravating you even more. “Good night.”

“Good night, Min,” you muttered, waiting for the man to turn out of the building before swinging in your chair.

The door welcomed you still.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Now see, you should not be letting your mind wander. Especially in situations which included your boss, another girl, and closed doors. Your gut twisted at the thought, and you were surprised at such a reaction.

What if Seungmin was right?

“No!” you whispered furiously to yourself, turning back to your computer. “Not jealous, just curious.”

Yes, that’s right. Just interested to know what the fuck they’re talking so long for.

“Oh God,” you breathed out, pressing your legs together. Maybe your friend was right. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you got up from your seat, picking up any scrap of paper and hurrying to the door. Pressing your ear to the misted glass, fingers clasping the metal handle. You could hear soft murmurs, a little laughter, but other than that, you failed to hear anything coherent.

This brought you even more agitation upon you. Doing something wrong, and it wasn’t even going as planned. This is what happened when you let yourself feel something.

Oh, no. Now you even admitted it to yourself that you had felt something for the asshole. If he ever heard of this, you would probably have to quit this job.

You pressed harder on the handle, never been more frustrated in your life than you were at that time. You were pathetic. Utterly disgraceful, but you could not help when you could not deny that Lee Minho-

You could not finish the thought.

Not when your hand slid on the handle too hard, swinging open the door. You let out a shrill screech as you stumbled inside the office, papers leaving your hands.

The conversation ceased, and you did not need to see them to know their eyes were on you.

Minho’s honey voice filled the room.

“What is this intrusion?”

You looked up, and felt your heart stop.

There he was, sitting leaned back at his plush executive chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. His brown locks were now raked back, a few strays cascading on the side of his forehead. His blazer was off, hung on his chair, and his shirt was tight on his hard chest.

Steadying yourself, but not your butterflies inside, you also saw Miss Kim hovering over him, showing him a few documents with her head a little close to his. She glanced up at you, and her face soured.

Minho snapped his fingers, shaking you out of your staring. “I asked you a question, ____.”

You wanted to snap at him, but reigned it in. “Sorry, but…”

But what? Not like you came in here with a plan.

Your eyes slid down to fallen files on the floor. “I needed to discuss...a proposal!”

Kneeling down, you picked up the scattered pieces of paper, on your feet in an instant. “Yes. A business proposal I needed to talk about.”

The man was not stupid; he saw right through your feeble excuse, with the impish gleam in his gaze. “Is that so?”

“What else would it be?” you pressed, masking your growing nerves with your irked frown.

His lips began to curve. You both stared each other down, refusing to back away. Miss Kim cleared her throat, even more angered by you now receiving his full attention.

“Shall I continue or…?” she carried off, completely deprived of his regard. Only when you glanced at her did his smile waver, raising the file.

He kept his eyes on you. “We can review this later,” he said to Miss Kim. He then addressed you. “And this time I’ll have an actual meeting planned. Happy, ____?”

You couldn’t suppress a scoff, not gone unnoticed yet unaddressed, as the woman took the files from him. She sent him a dazzling smile. “I will see you later, Mr. Lee.”

He returned it with a nod, watching her stroll past you, and out of the office. You watched the door close itself, sensing the silence more now the two of you were alone.

The quiet stretched on for longer before a hard sigh had you facing your boss once again.

“Beautiful, isn’t she,” he began, observing you from his rather messy desk.

That little comment of his pissed you right off. “The prettiest, in my opinion,” you crowed, gripping onto the files harder.

You then caught the shit-eating grin upon his face, and marred your face in a frown, causing him to splutter into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” you spat, but that only made him more breathless. “Oh, I’m leaving!”

“No you’re not,” he rasped out, finally calming down. He raised a hand across the chair before his desk. “You’re going to sit down and tell me of the proposals.”

A retort was on your tongue when you stopped, taking in his order. “Proposals?”

He cocked his head slightly, stray hairs tumbling with the action. “You said when you burst into my office that-”

He halted himself, everything falling into place.

When he focused on you this time, your stomach coiled at the way his smirk lit up his face. “Are you telling me you pretended to have appointments so you’d have that woman out of my room?”

The lack of response on his question had the man chortling. “My, my. Why so jealous, doll?” He gripped onto the arms of his chair, leaving the seat. “If you wanted me alone all you had to do was ask.”

Taking a step away from the desk, his fingers drummed on the table. “I wouldn’t have insisted on making an appointment either.”

A last surge of courage passed through you, especially from his words. “And what would you have done?” you got out.

The drumming paused, more from surprise at your question.

His piercing stare positively flared. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle it,” he guttered.

I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.

You didn’t know why that enraged you so much.

The cat and mouse game, once again being deflated by his words, leaving you disappointed. Why should you accept defeat this time?

You made sure he heard your thoughts.

“God, you really are a fucking prick!”

A pause. “Why would that be?” He took a step towards you, sharp brows furrowing.

“You…” staring at him, you screwed your face up in anger. “Toying with me all this time, yet doing nothing about it!”

That fine eyebrow was raised, but you carried on, refusing to let him speak. “Every single day, without fail, we see each other, bicker back and forth, and for what? Me all frustrated and you just enjoying it?”

You made sure you knifed your boss with a glare. “You just say words and leave. That’s all you can do.”

There was an eerie stillness after that — a slight shift in Minho’s demeanour, as his eyes narrowed, darkened at your claim. His hands, in his pockets before, slid out, and you saw they were fisted tightly.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me perfectly, sir,” you spat, that damned word he made sure you said every time . “You’re all bark and no bite.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

There it was.

The allegation against him. The words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, because you let yourself feel something for this man, and fuck, if he did not do anything about it you would quit this job here and now.

His next words were a mere whisper. They did not possess a hint of softness.

“Do you really think that?”

Another step.

Veins, slight before, we’re now more visible on his hands, trailing all the way up to the edge of the rolled up sleeves. When you caught his gaze, you nearly gasped at the pure, carnal fire that blazed within.

“Calling me a coward.”

Before you knew it, the man thundered towards you, and those veiny hands gripped your waist, pulling you to him in an iron grip. A small hiss escaped you at the sudden restraint.

“Don’t you dare call me a fucking coward again.”

His breath fanned your mouth, you mere inches from him. You made sure you kept your ground till the very end. Wherever that led you.

“Or what?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders. “Not like you would do anything. As per usual.”

And as the heavy silence reigned on the both of you, you had a little realisation.

Those words might have just been your undoing.

Because the second they left your tongue, Lee Minho growled fiercely before colliding his lips against yours.

His mouth snatched the very breath from you, an instant whine trying to escape yet refused by his lips, capturing yours and taking you with the strength of a wild beast. You nearly fell backwards from the pure momentum but were saved by his hands on you, branding their place on your skin.

The most surprising part was how you kissed him back with the same anger. The same rage which simmered the very first day you argued with him, and vowed to make his life a living hell, just like how he made yours unbearable during work. He captured your lower lip and began sucking on the flesh, and an obscenely loud moan escaped you at the contact.

The bastard was good. He was so, fucking good.

Just when you thought he’d go deeper, he pulled away, a thin bridge of saliva connecting the both of yours lips.

The trail broke when he took a step back, settling himself on his seat. That glistening mouth curved into a feline smirk, thumb stroking his lower lip.

“Still a coward, doll?”

You nearly collapsed without his hold. He took notice of your position, and scoffed at your weakness. “Looks like you took up the role instead.”

“How is that,” you rasped out, breath still uneven. “When you’re the one who stopped to sit down?”

Taking a step before him, your knees brushed against his own. “Looks like grandpa needs a rest.”

The comment had Minho’s eyes set ablaze. “You fucking—”

His hands reached out, tugging you upon him as he stayed seated. Your legs kneeled on either side of him, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, willingly accepting his lips. They worked so hypnotically with yours that you did not realise them opening your mouth completely, with his tongue sliding inside. He explored everywhere, finding your own tongue and swirling it along with his, ruining any chance of you suppressing your groaning at his actions.

Perhaps Minho took notice of your stubbornness, because his hands landed on your thighs, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt. You let the groan free as he hitched the fabric higher, higher, higher, removing himself from your lips and descending down, pouncing on a particular patch of skin on your neck.

“Already so—” he sucked hard on your neck, revelling in your whines, “—already so loud when I’ve only just kissed you?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed out, digging his nails into his shirt. He cackled at your response, sinking his teeth and creating the first bruise of the evening.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some manners,” he whispered onto your skin, raising your skirt high enough that your intricate lacing of your lingerie, black as the night, began to show. Minho practically salivated at the image; you knew from the raging lining beneath his trousers.

“All talk,” you merely said, despite the uneven breathing. “All talk and no action.”

His thumbs pressed into your thighs, ceasing your words with a little whine. It had the man capturing your lips again, pulling you down with his hands on your legs, closing any distance between you two, needing to have you all over him. Your lips swelled, bruised by the rough handling of your boss’ mouth, ravaging you in ways you didn’t dare dream of. His fingers, trailing up your skin once again, curled under the waistband of your underwear.

Your heart hammered in your chest at his touch. He was being too slow, too damn slow while you dripped with the beginning of arousal, making you a shuddering mess.

Lee Minho was about to slide the lace down when a shrill call flooded the room.

Both of you stopped dead in your tracks. The man whirled to the origins of the sound, coming from his wide open laptop — a notification for joining a meeting call popped up on the screen, automatically picking up in about five seconds.

Your boss nearly had a heart attack.

With quick thinking, Minho pried you off him, practically dumping you upon the floor with a slight groan. His hands gathered you under the table, pressing a finger to your lips with a stern look before disappearing up on his desk.

You let out a deliberately loud scoff just before he accepted the call, fingers swiping down to pinch you for calling out. You could not see his face, only from the navel down, sat right before you, caging you with his legs.

“Ah, Mr. Lee!”

A gasp almost escaped you, but remembered his glare and actually stopped. One make out session and you already obeyed him like a servant.

Over your dead body.

Your boss’ low growl had you widening your eyes. “What do you want, Chan?”

The hazy answer revealed his employee’s concern. “Mr. Lee, are you okay?” You heard him say through the laptop speaker.

You saw Minho’s leg start bouncing rapidly, and although you could not see his expression, you knew that he was, most definitely, pissed off. “I’m perfect. Fantastic even. Now what do you want?”

You were ready to sit still, wait through the meeting as Chan’s uncertain voice spoke of some specific business deals that needed to be confirmed, few details that needed to be checked over. However, the way your arousal still dripped, ever so slowly, was a weight, reminding you of the activities occurring mere moments before. You didn’t even bother to pull your skirt down.

It was settled. You needed this problem of yours solved now, or never.

Fortunately for you, your solution was presented to you, right before your eyes, and right between Minho’s legs.

His cock still stood, erect against the lining of his trousers.

You gulped at the sight. The bastard was mean, flaunting it all before you, knowing you would have thrust it straight in your mouth if you hadn’t been interrupted.

A spark ignited within you. Why should it stop you now?

Oh God. Why were you suddenly becoming so bold? Was it you, being so turned on that you needed your needs met without wait? Whatever the reason, you found nothing to argue against it.

If Minho was playing games with you, then you would play along with him.

Hands stretching on the floor, you crawled towards him, settling yourself between the space his legs created. Kneeling slightly, your fingers extended towards the zipper on his trousers, prying it down.

The man stilled under your touch.

Head protruding from the edge of the table, you spied Minho’s eyes, ever so carefully darting down to you, his mouth parting slightly under the cover of his hand. He hummed at Chan’s words, but you knew his interest was rooted only to you and your daring fingers.

When you unzipped his trousers, ready to peel them down, his other hand, out of the sight of the laptop, caught your wrist. His grip dug into your skin, stopping you in your tracks.

You looked up at him, making sure you expose your desperation in your eyes. His own widened, only for a second before dragging them back on the screen. A smirk curved onto your lips, knowing he was so affected by your mere actions. How you dared to toy with your boss.

The pout-like expression paid off, when the grip on your wrist loosened. Hurriedly your hands went to the waistband of his trousers, pulling the fabric down, and you had to commend Minho’s ability to look so calm when you were practically drooling at the sight that welcomed you.

You did not even bother to pull the pants right down, stopping just under his knees as you admired his finely sculpted thighs. It was no secret that your boss worked out everyday after he was done with meetings, and every time you caught evidence of his toils you wished you didn’t inwardly moan at the sight. His taut muscle stretched all the way up to his underwear, slightly soiled at the tip of his dick, outlined against the fabric.

Minho glanced down for a second at his antics, and when he looked back at the laptop again there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Chan, hurry and finish this up,” he jeered.

This was enough signal to start peeling his boxers down too.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets when you saw his cock spring free, curving proudly with its tip inches from his abdomen. The top glistened with the pre-cum, trailing down the length.

Oh dear God.

Your index, on instinct, reached out, cutting the white trail as you journeyed up the shaft. Minho’s low, barely audible growl had you shivering.

“Mr. Lee, you don’t look so well,” you heard the hazy worry of your coworker. You couldn’t help the giggle, and Minho’s side glare had you grinning.

He was not the one in control at the moment.

“I said I’m fine, Chan,” he snapped, and when you swiped up the remaining pre-cum on the head his dick twitched, a choked breath escaping. “Perfectly fine!”

“Uh, okay, then, this won’t take much longer…”

You, on the other hand, were just getting started.

Fingers, first stroking up the shaft, now wrapped around his cock, and with your heart in your throat you began a slow rhythm of sliding your hand up and down. Glancing up, you caught the colour of his face draining, using every ounce of his strength not to groan out loud.

You savoured the harsh tick in his jaw, quickening your pace and watched the man lose his cool, nerves in his neck protruding. Oh God, he was on the edge of his patience. It only encouraged your risky behaviour, dick hardening even more beneath your touch.

Still, there was no vocal outcry, to your irritation. You wanted to embarrass him during his meeting. Make him shut that laptop and moan out what he’s feeling. With these goals in mind, you cupped the base, and snuck a little closer, your face mere inches from his cock.

Taking one last peek at his paled face, you brought out your tongue and slid it along the head.

A soft groan emitted from your boss.

Chan’s monologuing of events paused, but the look on Minho’s face had him hurriedly continuing, while you progressed on, lapping up the remaining pre-cum you couldn’t catch with your index. You were never fond of the taste, but you took it in anyway, just to see the bastard’s mouth part in a way which had you almost leaking too.

Done with the soft, kitty licks, you hung on to your courage as you opened your mouth a little wider, taking in the head with your lips. Your hands stay wrapped around his cock as you, slowly, so slowly, went down, taking in inch by inch.

Minho’s fist smacked against the desk.

“Mr. Lee—”

“Ask me again, and you’re fired,” your boss guttered, hips sliding forward to push his cock further into your mouth. You nearly gagged at the action, but take it all in, obliging him because then you created a pattern of bobbing your head. Up and down, going easy, relaxed at first, you were sure Lee Minho was going to bring down his office.

But he didn’t.

And all because of that fucking meeting.

Suddenly angered, you did not bother fastening your pace, ready to give him blue balls for not reacting to your touches. Your mouth was back on top, lips still wrapped around the head, when you looked up at your boss through your lashes.

He stared down at you. Widened his eyes at the sight of you still enveloping his cock with your mouth, your gaze revealing the irritation of his lack of response.

Oh, he’ll give you something to work with.

His hand immediately when to the back of your head, stopping you from leaving as the other hand grabbed at the laptop screen.

Chan knew exactly what he was about to do. “Mr. Lee, I still have one more thing—”

You did not hear anymore, hearing the sharp SNAP! of the laptop shutting.

The silence returned, but did not stay for long as, gradually, Minho looked down at you, properly this time, and offered you such a lust-filled stare you were glad you did not leave your place upon his cock.

“Did you really think, doll,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair, “That I was going to let you leave me? Just like that?”

You did not answer back — obviously, because your mouth was a little occupied, but you raised your brows at him, hands tightening at his base. He let out a shuddered breath, chuckling.

“Still a brat, hmm? At least you’re not talking back.”

He tugged harder at your locks. “If this was the way to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Although your cheeks burned, you made sure to shut him up when you started your flow once again, closing your eyes as you went up and down on him.

Only this time, you had a little assistance.

Minho’s groaning roamed the room, like sweet music to your ears as you gradually fastened, working his dick with your hands too. Instinctively, the man bucked his hips into you, needing to have all of his inches in your mouth, needing to release all that pent up frustration that you created for him.

He said as much.

“Look at you,” he rasped up at you, curling away flyaways from your face as you worked on him. “Taking all of my cock…ah, all of my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

His filth was encouragement, and as you were sucking harder you could tell he was getting near. Pride washed over you, as your one of your hands reached out to play with his balls, earning a harsh moan from his lips.

“Ah—keep going, doll,” he rasped, his hips straying from a solid rhythm, knowing he’s going to let go soon if you kept up at this rate. “Doing so well.”

Perhaps these pieces of praise had you looking up, making sure he was watching as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him all in fully, a slight curve to your lips.

The absolute sin in the image of you kneeling before him, with his full length in you, had him crying out. He could not control the release that shot into your throat, pouring down and making you gag at its suddenness. Still, you took it all in, accepted the cum instead of spitting it out.

When he was finished, slightly heaving, his eyes danced at you slowly swallowing it down, a challenge in the quirk of your brow. Sweat beaded down at your forehead, but knowing you had Minho moaning over your skill was something to take pride in.

Lapping up the remaining cum, you swiped it off with the back of your hand. “Nice meeting, sir?”

The man could only laugh at your comment, so normal despite the situation. ”Adequate,” he drawled, pulling his boxers and trousers up as he cleaned off his dick. “But there’s still much to discuss.”

He wheeled his chair back, arms wrapping around you to free you from under the desk. You were glad of his help, for your legs were near-buckling. He noticed this too, for a smirk began to play on his lips.

Leaving you for a just a moment, he turned to his desk. He threw all his work off the top, paper and stationary flying from the table and scattering onto the floor. His laptop was thrusted at the ends of the table, unable to be a distraction.

“Hey, your papers will be all messed up,” you started, but he surprised you with a heart-searing kiss, making you almost collapse. You let his tongue slide inside instantly, hands gripping harder onto your hips as he tasted his release on your tongue, and when he roughly tugged on your lower lip, you gasped lightly at the harsh treatment.

He backed you further, the back of your upper thighs hitting his desk, and when he left your lips, his dark gaze had you weakened.

“I don’t really give a fuck about the papers right now, doll.”

You would have leaked out your arousal there and then. “Minho—”

“Did I tell you to call me Minho?” He demanded, fingers digging into your hips. Dazed, you tilted your head, only wanting his tongue down your throat again.

Catching the expression, he shook his head. “I’ll let you off today because you’re being a good little bitch this time.”

Dear God, you hated how you loved being called that.

His tongue working on your neck had you whimpering. “It’s sir to you, understand?”

You already had a counterpoint to piss him off with, but the animalistic threat in his eyes had you gulping. “Yes sir.”

The title had him going hard all over again. He teethed another hickey onto your skin, finding solace in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you all wet for me before, doll,” he whispered, hands sliding down, gripping the hem of your skirt. He hurriedly hitched it upwards, bunching it at your hips.

His fingers skimmed over your thighs before feeling the soft silk of your black lingerie, a familiar sight. “Ah, see?” His sole index traced over the front, dipping the fabric in your slit, already staining with your arousal. “All wet, just for me.”

“Stop it,” you whined, hands on his shoulders. “Stop teasing.”

“Since when do you order me around, ____?” He crowed, palming your clothed cunt, completely ignoring your demands. A ragged breath escaped you at the friction, so pleasurably wonderful you feared what would happen to you when he plays with you without the thin layer.

His attitude, however, still pissed you right off.

“I’ll be dried up by the time you start,” you seethed at him, nails digging into his shoulders. Provoking him was your only option, to get him to stop beating around and rail you on his desk.

“I don’t think so, doll,” he purred, other hand playing with the bands of your panties. You were about to snap when he hooked a finger over the hem of the lace and slid the underwear right down, just above your knee, and your breathing hitched as you found his gaze rooted to your now exposed cunt, already glistening from your arousal.

Minho’s mouth was practically salivating.

Despite the nerves growing in your belly, you still snapped him out of his mind drooling. “Are you going to just keep staring? Because that isn’t going to make me cum.”

His eyes slid to you, and shit, you could tell how much he wanted to beat your ass for your useless commentary. “Don’t make me shut you up again.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” you provoked, grabbing hold of his black tie.

A primal growl emitted from his throat, and when his fingers began skimming over the surface, you let out a whimper. “Oh, so my little doll wants to cum all over my fingers, then?” he muttered, eyes gleaming with an indecipherable goal.

His dirty words, along with him playing over your folds, had your stomach all knotted up. It was this tight feeling which had you breathing out, “Yes sir.”

The title at the end which had him slipping the first finger inside of you.

The feeling of his index sliding inside had you moaning much too loud for an action so small. Minho thoroughly enjoyed your reaction, finger almost fully inside when he palmed your core as well, already had you halfway there to your own undoing.

When his finger was up to the knuckle, his other hand found refuge in your locks, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. He began to slowly pull out, creating the same gradual rhythm you had when your mouth was on his cock before. When only the pad of his finger was inside, he thrust back in, making you whine at the rush.

If that was not enough, a second finger joined in on his labour, stretching your walls and you hissed at the snugness of his digits in your cunt, continuing that pattern which had you crying out from pure ecstasy. Damn the bastard, but he was so good at making you helpless.

A deep feeling settled in your gut, and you knew if he kept up at this, you were going to cum all over him. “I-I’m close,” you got out, wrapping your hand around the tie further, pulling him even closer.

Minho, satisfied with creating a painting of lovebites upon your neck, locked your gaze with his. You were surprised to find sinister mischief in his eyes. “My babydoll is going to cum, now?” he questioned, further puzzled to hear softness in his usual fire-like voice. You nodded desperately, praying that he finger-fucks you after this calm. All you desired now was sweet release.

Which was why you cried out in protest when he slipped his fingers out entirely.

Your lust-hazed eyes looked at him, all wide. “Wh-what?”

The arousal-stained fingers gripped your thigh, a small yelp escaping you. The man’s other hand gripped your chain, making sure you don’t break his carnal stare. “You don’t get to cum unless I say so.”

You nearly sobbed as you felt your orgasm start to fade. You knifed him with a glare, pulling him a hair’s breadth from you with the tie. “What the fuck is up with that, sir?”

His grip on your chin tightened. “Don’t argue back, doll.”

The two digits were pushed inside you once again, and still, damn your senses, your breathing hitched. “If I see release on my fingers, I’ll fuck the orgasm up, understand?”

Although the nerves were back, you wished looks could kill when you stared at him. So he’s going to keep toying with you, then?

Well. Two could play that game.

You convinced him with a timid smile, wrapping your hand around his tie all the way. “As you say, sir.”

Delighted at your response, he struck up that hypnotic flow of his fingers, slowly pumping inside of you. Of course, you relished the way he worked within you, knowing he was waiting for the final cry when he hit a specific spot, but you had to show him your place.

Instead of moaning down the office, like you wished you would, your stubbornness silenced you completely.

Even when Minho fastened his pace, making it incredibly hard for you to stay rigid, you gave him a taste of his own medicine, not a single whine escaping you, just the way he stayed angrily quiet in the meeting. His tie was your only source of venting out your frustration, pulling on it so harshly you wondered how the man’s neck hadn’t given in yet.

A strange sense of hysteria bubbled within you when your boss noticed your silence. Snarling, he dug deeper, and when he hit your g-spot, your eyes nearly burst out of your sockets.

“Being a fucking brat again?” he retorted, fingers playing with the spot until finally, a soft whine came free of your tongue. “Trying to mock me?”

You took in a ragged breath, hair a mess, courtesy of his hand. You glared and glared, but still, you refused to say anything. Refused to say a word, and when you saw his mouth twist into a scowl you savoured his anger.

He ripped his hand from your tie, loosening it from his neck. He straightened it out, every action fuelled with aggression. It made your whole body crawl with excitement.

You parted your mouth to piss him off even more when you suddenly felt a mouthful of silk, completely stopping you. Trying to whine, the tie knotted behind your head, and Minho pulled so hard it nearly stopped your blood circulation.

“Didn’t want to moan, huh?” he guttered, tying up a pretty knot beneath your locks. “Tried to be smart, did you?

The tie wedged inside your mouth stopped you from answering back, Minho taking great satisfaction in your broken mumbling. “Oh, so you wanna talk now?” he mocked, slowly descending, until his face was at level with your cunt. He looked up, and the sight had you shutting up immediately. “No, we’ll play your little game.”

His eyes resembled a demon’s. “One fucking word from you and you’ll be sorry,” he warned, hands, now on your thighs, squeezing the muscle. The anger was so cold you only nodded erratically, fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Spreading your legs a slight, he closed the distance, tongue opening the seams and licking the surface.

You could not help the stifled moan which worked its way out the gag.

Retracting at your reaction, he glanced up, fingers digging into your skin. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he growled, trailing down your inner thigh. That command alone had you in near tears.

He didn’t wait for your incoherable answer as he dived right back in, tongue now licking your clit in a way which had you seeing stars, along with the added assault of his two digits pumping your core. He immediately found your sweet spot and curled his fingers, knowing you would melt right on his face.

Because the gag worked wonders in ceasing your words, you had to vent out your release through gripping Minho’s hair, pushing further, begging him to just let you cum all over his face. The man was a mean prick, though, and wouldn’t ever give you that satisfaction.

His fingers increased their tempo, in and out, and your orgasm was right on the edge, threatening to wash over you if he didn’t stop. You whined as much as you could this time, praying he understood what you meant, and not just you provoking him further.

You tried to curse yourself at how pathetic you were in that state, but you were honestly so fucked out you didn’t particularly care. All you wanted now was for Minho to ruin you.

The man, taking notice of your cries, paused his licking, fingers still at their thrusting. His eyes still up at your ravaged state, and you nearly undid yourself at the pure pride that shone in his gaze. “Does my little brat wanna cum all over my face?” he cooed darkly, and you could not nod fast enough, earning a husky chuckle from him.

“Will you talk back?” God, an even faster shake of your head, eyes glistening. “You better fucking not.” he sighed, blowing on your cunt which had you wailing into the silk. “Well, since the gag’s still on…”

He offered you a small grin, enough to drive you insane.

“Go on then, you fucking slut. Cum on my face.”

His mouth was upon your cunt in seconds, just in time for you crying out into the tie-gag as you released your orgasm, creating a mess of him as you spilled yourself onto his tongue, his chin, everywhere, barely avoiding the office floor. Minho slowed his pumping inside, eventually ceasing as he took in your release, pulling away.

You caught the slight spillage scattered on his chin, and he slid his tongue down, looking up at you with feline amusement. “All that bitching, and you still cummed,” he mused, soothing your throbbing with his fingers. “Still gonna call me a coward?”

He stood, his clothed hard on rubbing against your folds, and you knew you that despite the orgasm, you needed more. His mere fingers, however heavenly, were not enough.

His one hand cupped your head while the other tugged on the gag, pulling it down from your mouth. You coughed lightly at the freedom, desire swirling in your features still. “I…” you started, but your throat still hurt. “I…”

“Use you words, doll,” he ordered, unravelling the knot on his tie behind you. “God knows you use them too well.”

“F-fuck...you,” you rasped out, causing him to raise a brow.

“Still got attitude?” He traced his thumb over your cheek. “Despite you whining like a little bitch to let you cum?”

His hands left your face, sliding to your thighs as he gripped onto them, having you sit on the desk. He then moved down further, tossing your lingerie before wrapping your legs around his waist.

Leaning in, his chuckle tickled your lips. “Guess I’m gonna have to fuck the brat out of you.”

That alone would have had you moaning if Minho didn’t shut you up with a rough kiss, fingers sloppily unbuttoning your shirt. He sucked on your tongue, failing to take the shirt off, and with a harsh groan ripped the parting, buttons popping to the floor. He peeled the attire off you, dumping it with your panties, and when he pulled away, he took in your intricately laced bra, and his malice was replaced with pure, unadulterated lust.

“God, I’m going to ruin you, doll.”

You answered with capturing his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip, his clothed boner creating friction against your inner thighs. His hands ravaged all over your exposed skin, while your own returned the favour, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. You ran your fingers up his abdomen, the granite solidity having you rolling your hips against him. Smiling against your lips, you felt his hands descend, gripping at the underside of your thighs before he lifted you up.

You gasped lightly, wrapping your hands around his neck as Minho, while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, collarbone, tongue sliding along, turned around, your back to the full view of the nightlife of the city, revealed through floor length windows of his office all around. Walking towards it, he backed you up against the glass, the cold sending shivers down your spine. That, and Minho leaving core-shaking kisses upon your skin, as he began to unhook your bra strap, tearing the lingerie off you.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, when he planted his lips upon your bare breast, sole finger playing with the other. Hearing his name had him grinding against you, making you whimper.

He went up, erratic breathing entering your ears. “It’s sir to you,” he snapped, before diving back in on your breast, licking over your nipple so thoroughly that you felt that overgrowing need to release once again. Again, with the teasing, the playing, when all you needed was his cock to fill you right up.

“Sir, p-please,” you begged, your legs locked tightly behind him.

“Please what, doll?” he hissed onto your skin, one hand tracing your throat.

One more thrust of his hips and your eyes pricked with tears. “P-please fuck me, sir,” the knots in your belly growing.

“Finally,” he breathed out, thumbing your neck, softly compared to the hard on you were practically sitting on. “You’re not being a little bitch.”

One hand still clasped around his neck, you brought the other down to his trousers. Looking up at him, he almost softened.

“Now you’re asking permission?” he cooed, straying from your breasts. “Being a good girl for me?”

You never had an idea on how much that affected you. “Don’t push it,” you countered, a tired smirk still playing on your lips.

“Go on, doll,” he said, hitching you higher on the glass, moistening with the sweat beading down your back. “But I like you better when you beg.”

“Let’s see if you-ah!” you were cut off when you pulled his trousers down, and his cock tried to burst from his stained underwear, rubbing against your cunt much too deliciously. “Fuck me hard enough.”

“Stop running your mouth and pull my boxers off,” he ordered, and this you willingly obliged, careful of your leg-lock as you peeled them down to his knees, he getting them clean off. When his cock sprung free, you were salivating at the sight, angry red and ready to have it inside of you.

When he caught your blatant staring, he snapped his fingers. “Careful, or you’ll start cumming without my permission.”

Your widened eyes darted to him, and your lack of response had him actually laughing. “Already forgotten your words?” he mocked, fingers gripping your chin. “My babydoll is getting dumb staring at my cock.”

“Please, sir,” you murmured, locking your hands behind his neck. “P-please fuck me.”

Minho let out a pleasured sigh at your pleading. “As you wish, ____.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, he clasped his cock, directing the tip to your entrance, already staining the surface with its pre-cum. His other hand gripped onto your hip, steadying you against the glass, now slightly misted.

“Ready?” he asked, surprised to hear a little softness as he caressed your hip with his thumb.

You nodded against his forehead, parting your mouth. “Yes, sir.”

A little scoff escaped him. “Good girl.”

That was all he needed before he began the final descent.

His cock slid inside, and your breathing turned irregular as your walls stretched slightly at the intrusion. He went further and further, moving ever so slowly to let you adjust. Lord knows you needed to, when his dick was so big.

“O-oh my God—” you stumbled out, feeling as if the man had filled you right up to your gut when he was finished. You kept deathly still, fearing you might shatter if you even moved the wrong way.

“It’s okay, doll,” he reassured you, hand leaving his cock and settling upon your other hip. “Whenever you’re set.”

“I’m good,” you said, more scared that you would cum right onto his dick if he tried to move inside you. “Stop worrying and...and fuck me already.”

His thumbs pressed harder on your sides, a pleasured sting ringing. “Now I won’t regret it if you can’t walk after this.”

A ragged scoff escaped you. “We’ll see about that-”

Well, you really couldn’t when Minho began to pull out.

Your mockery was cut off with a shrill cry, hold tightening on him as his cock slowly slid out. The gradual process was so pleasurable you had to hold onto him for dear life, or you knew you would collapse onto the office floor. The man made sure that never happened, grip on your sides never slipping, pressing you against the warming glass.

“I’ve only just started,” he drawled breathlessly, still relishing how loud you were being despite him merely beginning. “Has my babydoll never been fucked before?”

You had, but never had anyone made you so weakened by a simple pull out. In fact, your sexual life was average at best, but you telling him that he would, by far, be the biggest mistake. He’s already got an ego the size of his cock - you were not going to inflate it any larger.

“H-have been,” you gasped out. “B-better even.”

That false claim had him knitting his brows in anger. He thrusted his dick right back in, and another whine choked out of you.

“Liar,” he spat, filling you right to the brim. “Lying to me when my cock’s inside you.”

God, the rage that filled his veins was pure ecstasy in your mind. Good, you thought, making sure you chuckled at him. Provoke him till he breaks you.

“H-he was so much-argh!” you just couldn’t get a word out when he began to pull out once more, Minho now attacking your neck with his lips, bruised patches of your skin as he started up a painfully delightful rhythm of pushing and pulling his cock into you.

“Go on, you fucking brat,” he snarled onto your throat, licking up the column. “Try and tell me there was anyone better.”

You were on to tell him, gloat breathlessly that there were all these obviously real people who had fucked you into oblivion, but when his fingers began to prod at your clit those lies were replaced with thundering mewls, nails digging into his back.

Fastening his pace, you rolled your eyes back, head hitting the glass. Minho, watching you, slammed his hips forward, hitching you upward with the sheer force of his cock and snapping you out of your haze, making you look at him.

“I asked you something, doll,” he demanded with rich sarcasm, fingers never stopping on your clit, nearly taking you over the edge. When the head of his dick hit a certain spot, deep into your core, you couldn’t even control the slight drool which trailed down your spit-slick lips.

Minho’s dark laughter only had the knots tightening in your belly. “Awww, my babydoll’s so fucked out she can’t even speak?” his mouth curled into a smirk. “Only a useless set of holes for me to toy with, aren’t you?”

You thought you said something, hopefully something to shut him up, but when your orgasm was right at the tip of your cunt you knew it was as the bastard said - useless.

As you predicted, Minho quickened his fingers on your bud. “Worthless fucking bitch,” he mocked mercilessly, practically branding you against the glass. With the sheer anger he fucked you with, you were scared the windows would crack. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“C-close, sir,” you finally got out, managed to formulate the only words you needed at that moment. Your boss, at this, only increased his pace of his erratic thrusts, practically decimating your cunt with his cock. You had a feeling among the lust-filled haze of your mind that he, too, was getting close, with the way his flow turned sloppy.

“And…” he took in a sharp breath. “And what about it?”

Oh, you knew what his last game was. Permission from him, pleading to let you spill your arousal all over his cock.

In any normal circumstance, you would have laughed at their face. Made sure they never asked something so atrocious.

Lee Minho, however, was another case entirely. Not when he was your lifeline, the only one in the universe who could save you from this impending doom. Even though he was the bastard who brought it down on you in the first place.

So you did what possibly no human being could ever ask of you.

You pleaded.

Practically begged to let you feel sweet release.

“Can I…” another soft cry left your lips. “F-fuck, please...can I cum?”

Minho imprisoned you with his gaze. Locks sticking to his forehead, mouth parted in desire, and pupils dilated, you still found him so utterly beautiful, despite the wilderness beneath. Found him even more so when he finally decided to show you some mercy.

“Go on, babydoll. Cum for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your vision nearly blacked out when you obliged, orgasm spilling out from the tight spaces between your walls and his cock, dribbling down your legs and dripping onto the office carpet. The sight of your spillage had Minho finishing off his own thrusts, releasing an earth-shattering cry as he barrelled his own release into you, ropes of cum spilling out of your cunt, joining your mess on the floor.

A slight peaceful stillness settled over the office, save for the both of you, breathing as if you had been underwater this whole time. Minho’s cock was still inside you, snug around your moistened walls. Slowly, he pulled it out, hanging limp from use, and your cunt felt hollow, emptier than it has ever felt before.

You unlocked your legs from his waist, immediately regretting the action when they gave out under you. Collapsing onto Minho, you were instantly met with his arms, holding you up.

“Careful,” he muttered, leading you to his chair, settling you down on the plush leather. He pulled his boxers up, along with his trousers, finding your own attire on the floor and placing it on your lap.

Smiling lazily, you started adorning your rather dirtied attire. “A good business proposal, no?” you mused, referring to your terrible excuse at the beginning of the evening.

Remembering, he chuckled, putting on his shirt. “I never bought that anyway, doll,” he merely said, buttoning to the top. “I knew you were jealous.”

Cheeks burning, you mumbled a little shut up, earning yourself a grin from the man. Finding your own shirt useless from Minho ripping it open, you said so to the man. “Look what you’ve done to my top”

He only spared it a glance before grabbing his tie, stained with your saliva. “Look what you’ve done to my tie.”

“That was your own fault,” you remarked, hoping your blazer would cover your front up. “You put the gag on me, prick.”

“Feeling brave already?” Minho purred, already putting you on a familiar edge. “Thought I’d fucked the brat out of you by now.”

Oh, he really did. He truly made you his little bitch not moments ago, and perhaps that would be rooted in you for the future.

But of course, you’re not going to tell him that.

You stood up from his chair, slipping into your heels. His eyes watched you as you walked to the door, opening it wide.

You looked back, catching something akin to wonder in his gaze.

“It’s going to take a little more than that, sir,” you declared, and left the room, closing the door behind you.

And as you prepared to leave the building, Lee Minho stayed rooted in his office, feeling his insides go wild all over.

It’s going to take a little more than that, sir.

Oh, God.

The man scoffed.

“Fucking brat.”

“I DEMAND TO BE LET IN!”

Once again, you rolled your eyes at Miss Kim, who was now adorned in magenta, long boots tapping against the marble floor.

“Mr. Lee is busy, Miss Kim,” you told her for the umpteenth time, refusing to believe that one seemingly intelligent woman, who had her own business, could be so thick-headed. “If you would just sit down—”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, pointing an acrylic-painted finger at you. “I am a special client of Mr. Lee’s, and don’t need an appointment.”

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. It had not even been two days before she was back at the office, demanding Minho’s presence for the continuation of her meeting before you interrupted them.

A small smile caught onto your lips. Thank God you did.

“Hey!”

You perked up, brows instantly furrowing. “Miss Kim, just like the last time, I cannot help you. I can only give you entrance inside if you have an official appointment.”

Letting out a harsh laugh, she shook her head, wiggling the same finger at you. “Miss whatever your name is, I don’t like to have my time wasted, and you certainly are wasting my time. If I say I want to see Mr. Lee then you better damn well let me see Mr. Lee!”

Your mouth nearly opened to snap back at her when the glass door beside you swung open, and out stepped the CEO himself, who possessed the same irritation on his face as you did as he leaned his figure against the doorway.

“What is this constant racket?” he complained to no one in particular, and when his eyes fell upon his unofficial client he stopped. “Oh, good afternoon Miss Kim.”

“Mr. Lee, your little assistant is being difficult once again,” the woman declared, glaring at you. “She did this the last time I was here, and even when you let me in she’s doing the same thing again.”

“Oh, really now?” Minho got out. He turned to you, his dashing face exposing slight amusement at the claim. “Is that so, ____?”

You fought the urge to smirk at him. “She does not have an appointment,” you explained, spinning your pencil to avoid his searing gaze. “You told me only to let the people who’ve made appointments enter your office.”

Minho grinned for you. “That I did,” he confessed, eyes sliding to Miss Kim, whose smug smile faltered. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the rules must be followed.”

The woman’s arrogance faded completely when the words left his mouth, finding herself defeated. “I see,” she said, still souring at the sight of you. “Well, I’ll phone up tomorrow morning.”

“You do that, Miss Kim,” he agreed, and watched as the woman turned on her heel, grumpily exiting the building.

The man found your eyes, and you saw them dance with mischief. You already felt your heartbeat pick up the pace when he walked over to you, planting his hands on your desk. “I need you inside the office, doll.”

Oh my God. “Whatever for, sir?” you asked innocently, trying to focus on your round of Solitaire, stark on the computer screen.

The table creaked underneath his fists at the title. “Let’s say it’s a…” he leaned in a little, careful of his employees beyond the hallway. His voice conveyed a slight husky tone. “A business proposal.”

Shivers crawled down your spine. Fuck him. Fuck him for bringing up your shitty excuse of two days ago. “I hate you,” you whispered harshly to him, despite the nerves.

His eyes never left you. “We’ll see about that when we start the meeting, doll.”

He stood straighter, opening his office door. “Now are you coming in?”

You studied the open door, the hidden opportunity that laid beyond. When you caught the growing lust in his gaze, you pressed your thighs together.

Standing up, you hurried to the doorway, earning chuckling from your boss. “Shut up, asshole,” you hissed, entering the fated office. Seeing the desk already had your cheeks burning.

“It’s sir to you, brat,” he only said, hands already on you as he closed the door.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids oneshot #lee minho imagines #lee minho smut #lee minho dark hours #stray kids dark hours #stray kids hard hours #skz smut #skz imagines #skz oneshots #minho imagines #minho smut #skz hard hours #skz dark hours #TAGS BETTER WORK THIS TIME ISTG

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marmosa · 4 years ago

Text

if it were up to me.

George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: none!!

A/N: i don’t celebrate christmas, but if you do- merry christmas!!!! i hope this is a lovely treat for all of you that do and don’t celebrate the holiday. i’ve been binge watching the movies with my sibling this past week (we’re on winter break right now) and i was just on a roll (finally got some inspo thank god). but i loved writing this piece and i truly hope you all enjoy reading it just as much as i did writing it. happy holidays to you all, i love you tons <3

***

“Are you busy right now?”

[y/n] looked up from the papers splayed out over the table in front of her, her lips pursing into a little pout of annoyance at her broken spell of silence. She grit down a sarcastic remark and looked over her shoulder towards the source of the sound, the venom bubbling to the tip of her tongue dissolving in an instant as she put a face to the voice.

“Ah! George! Um, a little bit, but I have a moment to spare. What do you need?”

He visibly relaxed when the soft tone of her voice ran through his ears, her inviting smile and outturned posture welcoming him into her space, “I wanted to ask you a question actually.”

[y/n] furrowed her brows and quirked her head to the side, her brain rapidly noting and filing his odd behavior. George was naturally more calm in his pursuits and actions, well as calm as a Weasley twin could be anyway, but this seemed to her a bit overkill. As he stalked over, she picked up on the way he was wringing his hands and the corners of his smile were twitching. It irked her, but she resigned not to mention it.

“Well, out with it already! You’re making me nervous just standing there,” she chuckled, using her ankle to pull out the chair next to her, motioning for him to take a seat with a jerk of her chin.

He let out a puff of air and plopped down next to her, slumping his shoulders into the chair. [y/n] couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his display of annoyance, his eyes flickering to her face for what felt like the first time since he approached her. He could feel his smile twitch yet again as he rehearsed what he was supposed to tell her.

“Okay, well it’s less of a question and more of an explanation and then a query,” he explained, obviously trying to dance around getting to the point.

“Alright, out with it then,” she nodded, raising her brows with a tilt of her head to edge him on.

“Uhm, Merlin, he’s a bloody git for making me do this,” George groaned, shielding his face with his hands and lulling his head backwards.

“Who’s a- George if you keep beating around the bush I’m gonna tune you out and get back to work,” [y/n] huffed, her expression falling into one of mild irritation.

“Sorry! Sorry- uh, you know Emmett right?” George began, his heart twisting in his chest with every word that started to tumble forth from his mouth.

“Yeah, we have nearly four classes together. What about him?”

“Well, uhm, he was too nervous to ask you himself- Hufflepuff and all, so he requested my services during potions. Came up to me, sweating awful bad, red up to his neck, and asked that I ask you if you’d go to Hogsmeade with him this coming week,” George finished the last part with venom biting at his tongue, his retelling obviously botched out of Emmett’s favor.

[y/n] could feel the embarrassment bleed its way into every single crack of her face, her eyes bulging out of their sockets as her brain drowned in it’s process’. She quickly averted her gaze to the papers next to her, grabbing at some blank parchment and her quill.

“That- uhm, wow! That’s incredibly sweet of him to ask. However-”

George felt his heart begin soar at the ‘however’, biting back his extremely obvious shit-eating grin fighting its way onto his face, “Yes?”

“I was actually hoping someone else would ask me to Hogsmeade, well not necessarily ask, more like officiate it as a date of sorts? I-I don’t know, but I unfortunately can’t accept his offer- lovely as it is! Of course,” she rushed out, chewing on the inside of her cheek to try and soothe the discomfort bubbling in her stomach.

“So, that’s a no?” George questioned for clarification, more to fan his internal flame of victory than get an answer for the Hufflepuff boy.

“Yeah, it’s a no- oh! But George, do let him down gently please, I know Emmett and he can be a bit overcritical at times. Just let him know it’s not his fault, I just happen to like someone else,” she trailed off, her eyes glued to her hand that had subconsciously shot forward to squeeze George’s wrist as he stood up to go dutifully deliver her answer.

“Anything for you,” he finally let his smile crack through, his other hand reaching over and squeezing hers, “See you in the Great Hall?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, retracting her hand and turning back to her work as George padded away, leaving her to her thoughts.

As soon as she was sure he was out of ear shot she let out a string of curse words, her head falling forward with a defined thunk, “Merlin, now I can’t finish my work at all.”

***

“[y/n]! What took you so bloody long?” Esme called out from the table, clambering out of her seat to rush over to her friend who looked more than a little flustered.

“Oh you know, the usual, running into yet another ridiculous unfathomable situation,” [y/n] shook her head, plopping into her seat.

“Do tell,” Esme hummed, her lips curled up into an expectant smile.

“Don’t be shy, give us all the details,” Lucile chirped from across the table, pointing at [y/n] with a fork adorned with a chunk of turkey.

[y/n] looked down and across the table, scanning the area to make sure George and none of his pals were anywhere to be seen. She let out a puff of air as soon as she deduced that the coast was clear, motioning for her friends to huddle in as best they could with their seating arrangement.

“So you know how I usually spend my free period in the library doing homework, right?”

The two other girls nodded, Esme already giving [y/n] that cheeky, suggestive grin. [y/n] frowned and shook her off, slapping Esme’s shoulder lightly with a plain ‘ew’.

“Well George came up to me, acting all the more nervous, completely out of sorts for him-,”

“A Weasley twin? Nervous? Someone pinch me I must be hearing things,” Lucile whistled, frowning when Esme kicked her leg under to table in a silent warning to watch her volume.

“And then he spends forever getting to the point of his sudden appearance and it turns out Emmett set him to ask me to go to Hogsmeade with him!”

“The Hufflepuff?”

“Yes”

“Well, what did you say?!” Lucile urged, setting her drink down to minimize the splash zone had [y/n] given them a surprising answer.

“No, of course! You know I like-,” [y/n] whipped her head around, doing yet another sweep of the table to ensure she wouldn’t be heard by the wrong people before dropping her voice to a hush, “you know I like George.”

“No wonder he was nervous!” Esme threw her hands up, earning herself a few awkward glances from the people seated next to them, “he was worried you’d take up Emmett’s offer.”

[y/n] could feel that same embarrassment from earlier draw itself taut on her features, as she folded into herself, “That’s a load of rubbish.”

“No, Esme’s right. If you certain he approached you as awkward and nervous as he was, it’s probably because he didn’t want you to say yes to Emmett’s offer,” Lucile concurred, finally directing her attention back to her meal, “besides, I passed him and Lee in the hall earlier and I caught your name.”

“What-?” [y/n] coughed, nearly choking on her food at Leslie’s far to casual mention of this piece of information.

“Yeah and then when they saw me they went all quiet and headed the opposite direction of me,” Leslie nodded, biting back an amused smile as she watched [y/n] literally melt in on herself in real time.

“You’re bluffing! That’s great news innit! Come on [y/n] you’ve gotta let yourself accept that he likes you,” Esme clicked her tongue, elbowing her in the side gently.

“I won’t because it’s not true. Besides, we’re already going as friends and I think that’s quite alright for me,” [y/n] shook her head, shrugging off Esme’s side eye and disproving frown.

“Whatever you say, Ms. denial,” Lucile grumbled, pouring some more gravy over her turkey.

“If you don’t quit picking on me I’m going to head off to the dormitories and forget this interaction ever happened,” [y/n] deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout.

“We wouldn’t have to pick on you if you’d just admit that he likes you already!” Esme nearly shouted, sinking into herself slightly when Lucile took her turn reminding her to watch her volume.

“What’s all this about picking on [y/n]?”

[y/n]’s face went slack with horror, as her nerves painted themselves plainly obvious on her features. She passed Lucile a pleading look not to mention anything, and Esme didn’t need to be told twice simply by the waves of terror rolling off of [y/n].

“Just teasing her for the whole Emmett thing, it’s quite funny if you ask me. Poor lad will just have to find someone else, but so’s life,” Esme chuckled, scooting to the side to make room between her and [y/n] for George to take a seat.

“Exactly, that’s what I said! Which, by the way, he took the let down very nicely [y/n]. So don’t go beating yourself up over something you couldn’t help,” George mentioned, reaching around [y/n]’s shoulder to give her a squeeze.

“Thanks George, I appreciate it,” [y/n] smiled, ducking her head slightly to try and conceal the water building up in her eyes purely from nerves.

“He’s a Hufflepuff, he’ll cry it out, get a few hugs from his pals and move on with it,” Lee noted from across the table, he and Fred taking liberty to sandwich Lucile between them.

“Aside from him, we heard you already had a fancy in mind- is that true [y/n]?” Fred added, leaning his chin onto his hand, a devilish quirk to his grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” [y/n] snipped back, sticking out her tongue in defiance, “Why are we even concerned with my love life anyway? Esme might be going with Dina, Lucile has got her hands full of potential suitors, Lee’s got his dates for the next month planned, Fred is practically tripping over himself for his newest infatuation, and George’s got- wait, what’ve you got George?”

It was George’s turn to feign embarrassment, the red slowly seeping up his neck until it overtook his entire face, “Well, nothing in particular actually, it’s quite complicated-,”

“Complicated in that his crush is shy and he’s shy and they’re both hopeless but he’d kill me if I tried to help, so we’re all just waiting for a miracle to drop from the sky,” Fred sighed dramatically, reaching across the table to snatch a roll from one of the quickly emptying break baskets.

“When you put it that way it sounds lame,” George grumbled, passing his brother a bitter look, “It doesn’t matter anyway. Hogsmeade is just a bit of holiday magic, something could happen at any time.”

“He does make a point there,” Lucile chimed in, nodding her head in agreement.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, you’re literally living your own version of The Bachelorette- if I can recall that’s what my cousin told me. Anyhow, if anyone needs a bit of holiday magic it certainly isn’t you,” Esme giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at Lucile’s less than amused expression.

“What’s this Bachelorette you mentioned all about?” Fred quipped, his eyes sparkling with interest.

“You’d certainly enjoy it, Fred. What with your lifestyle of charm and dazzling your fancies and all,” Esme hummed.

“Did you just call me a slag?” Fred gasped, faux hurt painted across his face.

“I did nothing of the sort! Don’t you put words in my mouth,” Esme threatened, pointing an accusing finger at Fred.

George rolled his eyes at his friends’ antics and decided now was a great a time as any to slip away while everyone was distracted. He carefully elbowed [y/n] who was thoroughly amused with the electric banter flying across the table, her head snapping to the side at his redirection of her attention.

He mouthed a silent ‘want to get out of here?” to which she responded with an eager nod. George’s smile widened and her made quick work of maneuvering his long limbs out of the table, offering a helping hand to [y/n] shortly after gaining his bearings.

The two began to head off but not without Lucile calling after them, “Where are the two of you headed!?”

[y/n] swiveled around with a messily concealed expression of excitement, offering their friends nothing more than a bouncy shrug of her shoulders before she turned back around and quickened her pace to match George’s.

The cacophony of sounds echoing from the Great Hall slowly trickled down to nothing but a dull murmur, the occasional hallway conversation the only discernible noise through the sleepy castle.

“So, I take it you needed a breather after that harsh interrogation,” George began, burying his hands into the pockets of his robes.

“You wouldn’t believe. I swear they were moments away from drilling me for my Ministry administered ID,” [y/n] giggled, shaking her head, “honestly, you’d think they’d get tired of asking a question they never get an answer too.”

“Very much so. Maybe it’s just blind optimism and a bit of hope that one day they’ll chip away enough at it that you’ll just give in and admit it,” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “But who knows.”

[y/n] hummed in agreement, pulling her robes tighter around her body to try and hoard every last sliver of heat she could as they wandered the corridors of the castle, “so, what’d you drag me out here to do?”

“Truthfully I just wanted to get out of there, I had no general plan in mind. But hey! I’m a Weasley, we’ll find something to do soon enough,” He grinned ear to ear, making a show of his jazz hands.

“I’d usually recommend going out to sit under the stars but the snow and cloudy sky do make that a very unpleasant option,” she sighed, blowing out a puff of air from between her lips.

“Oh! I know, I have the perfect idea,” He exclaimed giddily, “I know you’re going to start out opposed but hear me out.”

George grabbed her hands and drew her to the side, huddling his shoulder to try and minimize his size to capitalize on whatever privacy they had made for themselves in the tiny little niche in the wall.

“It’s not against the rules is it?” [y/n] questioned, a concerned quirk in her brow.

“Not entirely,” He trailed off, trying his best to reel her back on board when she looked more than a bit opposed, “But it won’t get us in trouble- or not a lot of trouble, at least. If anything happens I’ll take the blame, I swear on Godric Gryffindor himself.”

“Fine, fine, tell me your idea,” she giggled, drawing her lip between her teeth to try and get her bubbly laughter under control.

“Okay, so you know all those dusty, old, empty classrooms on the upper levels?” He paused, waiting for her nod of conformation, “well, they just so happen to be the perfect place to practice charms, spells, and the newest collection of Weasley Wizard Wheeze’s.”

“You’re letting me see the new line?” [y/n] gasped with glee, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Not necessarily new, more like a final product. But more or less yes,” He nodded eagerly, his hair shaking with the aggressive movement.

“Well, what’re you waiting for? Lead the way!”

“Say no more.”

***

“You were not lying when you said these places were dusty,” [y/n] coughed, fanning the invisible particles from out of her face, taking in the clothed furniture and dim windows.

“It’s not the brightest place, but it’s not too shabby either! Watch this,” George muttered a spell and flicked his wand, all the candles and wall fixtures flickering to life before them.

[y/n] turned to him with an impressed look, her arms crossed over her chest in pride, “Since when have you paid any attention in charms?”

“Since forever! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He rolled his eyes, getting on his hands and knees to search under the furniture for his hidden treasure, “ah ha!”

“What’ve you found?” She quipped, jogging over to help him with whatever his search had brought him.

“The new line of course,” He grinned, handing her a lovely orange and purple box, pushing himself off the floor to dust the particles off his robes, “Do ya like the packaging?”

“It’s certainly bright,” She nodded, lifting the box up slightly to examine the bottom, “I like the ribbon though, it’s a beautiful shade of purple.”

George felt his smile soften as he reached forward and pulled the ribbon loose from the box, dangling it in front of her, “Well then it’s yours.”

“Really?” She asked softly, setting down the box, taking the soft piece of fabric from him.

“Of course. It’d probably end up in the trash anyway. It’d look much lovelier in whatever way you intend to put it to use,” He grinned, leaning against the desk that held the box.

“Thank you,” She muttered sheepishly, reaching behind her to tie up a section of her hair, “I love it already.”

George could feel the blood rushing to his ears as he looked at her with pure adoration, his heart drumming against his ribcage so aggressively he was sure it was going to beat right out onto that dusty floor.

“S’no problem,” He tipped his head forward courteously, “now, you wanna try out some Wheezes?”

“You bet I do.”

***

“I can’t believe you guys managed to make all this stuff!” [y/n] squealed in childlike delight as she pulled yet another one of their confetti party favors, the confetti charmed to bloom into flowers as soon as they hit the ground.

“It’s our passion, the thing we love most. I’m just glad it’s having its desired effect,” George chuckled, stomping on the now empty box of trinkets to flatten it out.

“You guys are some of the most talented people I know. You’re incredible George,” She breathed, reaching down to pick up one of the confetti flowers, stroking its petals ever so carefully.

George felt time stop. Her words looping in his mind like a broken record, her rolled up sleeves, out of place hair, and gentle handling of the flower an image he was never going to burn from his mind. He felt as if he could scoop her up right there and consume her in a hug so strong she’d melt into his arms and never leave them.

[y/n] glanced over her shoulder at George, who was sitting crisscross on one of the desks they’d uncovered. Her smile faltered when she noted the way he was looking at her, a far-away look in his eyes and a weird quirk to his lips. She was suddenly extremely self-conscious under his gaze and she quickly straightened out her posture, coughing as if to clear her throat.

“I look rather unkempt now, huh? Reckon I was having a bit too much fun,” She chuckled quietly, clicking her heels together.

“You look fine,” George spoke up, suddenly in front of her.

“You’re just saying that to be nice, I know there’s probably confetti in my hair or ash on my cheeks,” She shook her head, eyes flickering to meet his.

Her heart nearly stopped, his gaze so intense it made her want to sink so far into herself that she just disappeared and never returned. She wanted to know what he was thinking, what had him so trained on her. It was almost certain in her mind that there was something up with her appearance.

“Well?” She asked, trying to coerce some words out of him.

“S’just a little smudge of ash, right here-,” He squinted, reaching forward and swiping his thumb right on the apple of her cheek, letting his hand linger on her face a little longer than it needed to.

“Oh- thanks,” She swallowed, sounding far too breathless for her comfort, but pretending to not notice just how obviously out of sorts she was feeling.

“No problem.”

The two stood side by side in their own little world for what felt like forever, until [y/n] felt the bubble of words lodged in her throat finally pop and surge forward, “are you going to Hogsmeade with anyone?”

Her brain immediately wanted to back peddle and come up with some shitty excuse as to why she asked such an out of place question, but it was near impossible now as George was already jumping to answer her question.

“I was thinking it was just going to be Fred, Lee, and I. Maybe we’d run into you and your friends. Like every year. But-,” He shrugged, “I was kind of hoping for something else this time ‘round.”

“Something else?” She echoed.

“Like a date,” He continued.

“Anyone in mind?”

George fell silent, offering her nothing more than a silent nod. Because when it came down to it, admitting feelings for someone when they were right in front of your face seemed more daunting than anything.

[y/n] nodded and shuffled off to retrieve her things, straightening out her dress shirt and pulling on her robes. She could hear George behind her doing the same, a soft gust of wind letting her know he was also tending to the aftermath of their games.

“Thanks for inviting me out to do this, it was fun,” She spoke up, still not daring to look up from her hands, continuing to pretend that she was still busy fixing her attire.

“Anytime,” He replied, waving his wand to send the trash to the bin, ‘you’re always welcome to have fun with me.”

“Good to know,” she hummed softly, “well, I don’t know what your plans for the night are, but I best be getting to bed.”

George wanted to say something, anything, to try and make it clear that she was the girl he was thinking about. That she was the one he wanted to take to Hogsmeade on a date. That she was the one he wanted to drink butterbeer with, buy a cute gift for, play in the snow with, and then cuddle by the fire after it all. It was always her he wanted to do those things with. Always.

But his words failed him once more and he finished the last of his cleaning, offering her a small gesture of farewell, “I have to find Fred and Lee, we sort of planned for something later tonight, so...”

“I understand. You lot are always having far more fun than you should be,” She giggled softly, “But I’ll be off then, I don’t want to worry Esme.”

“Yeah, don’t keep her waiting. Merlin knows she’d have my head if she found out I was responsible for getting you in trouble,” He snickered.

“That is very much true, she certainly would do that. Anyway, Goodnight George,” [y/n] waved him goodbye, shutting the classroom door behind her with a click.

***

“You look far too down in the dumps for the night before Hogsmeade, what’s got you so low?” Esme questioned, hopping over the top of the sofa and sliding down next to [y/n].

“It’s nothing, really, I’m not upset, just sleepy,” [y/n] assured, shaking her head with a weak smile.

“I know you and I know a liar when I see one. Come on, out with it, before I go get Lucile to talk your brains out,” Esme huffed, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around [y/n], “you can talk to me y’know.”

“I know. It’s just-,” [y/n] sighed, letting herself relax into her friends embrace, “Everyone kept saying George liked me and I was really hoping he would’ve built the nerve to ask me to Hogsmeade. But it seems like I was right, and he doesn’t like me that way. I’m sorry to bore you with this topic again, it seems like the only thing we’ve spoken about for the past couple of days, but I- I just wished you guys had been right about us.”

Esme could feel the sadness building up in [y/n] by the quiver in her voice and softening of her tone. It broke her heart to see her friend so distraught, especially over something as trivial as a boy. But she knew well enough herself how much these sorts of things meant to her and her friends and despite her urge to tell [y/n] to just push him out and party, she knew that would be of no help.

“I understand darling,” Esme cooed, squeezing [y/n]’s shoulder, “and I’m sorry things turned this way. But remember, we’re all going to spend time together tomorrow with our favorite candies and drinks, near the crackling fire with the winter blizzard swirling outside. It’s going to be lovely and just like George himself said, a little holiday magic isn’t the only opportunity to confess your feelings.”

[y/n] giggled through her sniffles, rubbing her fists into her eyes to try and dissipate the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She knew Esme was right and though all she could feel was a dull hole in her chest at the prospect of only meeting George as a friend tomorrow, she knew Hogsmeade in itself never disappointed.

“You’re right, no more tears from me, I promise,” [y/n] smiled.

“You better not, tomorrow is about fun, now off to bed! We’ve got a day ahead of us tomorrow!”

***

The Three Broomsticks bustled with business, students of every kind huddled together with glasses of butterbeer engaged in cheery conversation. The three girls had found themselves tucked off in a cozy little corner, giggling about something or other, lips covered in foam.

“And that’s when I turned to him and told him to shut his mouth before we both got caught and ended up in detention,” Lucile exclaimed, throwing her hands up and falling back against her chair.

“Scandal!” Esme and [y/n] gasped, exchanging looks of intrigued horror.

“There’s no way he did that, not-,” [y/n] stifled a laugh, dropping her tone to a hush “not in the common room.”

“Oh, but he did!” Lucile broke into another fit of laughter, her head hitting the table with a thunk as she struggled to real herself back in.

[y/n] finally got a grip of her laughter, trying to equalize her breathing pattern as she scanned the restaurant for familiar faces, her cheery disposition quickly dying out as she recognized the patrons who’d just entered the shop.

Esme picked up on her change of manner and reached across the table, squeezing her hand with a reassuring smile, “It’ll be fine.”

[y/n] returned a weak smile and nod, “I know. Don’t worry about me.”

The three girls sobered themselves up as Lee, George, and Fred made their way over to the table all with cheery grins plastered on their faces.

“Well ladies, how’s Hogsmeade been treating you so far?” Fred inquired, sliding into the booth next to Esme, Lee following suit.

“You know, gossip, jokes, more gossip-,” Lucile began, giggling at the looks the boys gave them.

“And lots of butterbeer,” [y/n] added, raising her glass in the air.

“Speaking of butterbeer, here comes our order,” George noted, rubbing his hands together happily as he slid in next to [y/n] and Lucile.

“Lovely timing,” Fred noted, the table erupting in a cacophony of ‘thank you’s.

The table broke out into conversation, some involving everyone and others only demanding the attention of a few. Amusement, horror, anger, and disgust all adorned their features as they cycled through topics, never at a shortage of something to grace the table with.

As time passed they found themselves outside, discussing where to head off to next, everyone with hopes of their own for the rest of the day. It ended up being decided that Esme and Lee would head off to the Sweet’s shop, Lucile and Fred would make a stop at the Instrumental shop for some personal supplies, and [y/n] and George would be at the bookstore. Then they’d all meet up at one of the gift shops to search for some small gifts and knick-knacks.

Before they all headed on their own separate ways, Esme made sure to give [y/n] a tight hug and some reassuring words. The group split and left each other to their own devices before they were to regroup.

“Is there any book you’re looking for in particular?” George asked, quick to keep their dialogue going.

“Well not really, I’m actually looking for a few bookmarks and some new pens and such. The bookstore has a lovely selection there, so,” [y/n] explained, glad he shouldered the burden of lighting a conversation.

“That’s nice, reminds me that I do need some new quills. I have gone through far too many for comfort, my mum is going to gut me when we head home for break,” he chuckled, shaking his head with a shudder.

“Come on, she cant be that bad. Besides, I know a spell to fix them right up, if you ever need it.”

“First off thank you, I appreciate it. Secondly, if you’re so sure you should come over during the holiday’s, meet her for yourself.”

“Are you inviting me over for Holiday break?” She asked, surprise evident in her tone.

“I guess I am,” He chuckled, “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’d be delighted to join your family for the holidays.”

“Terrific! I’ll send an owl to my mum as soon as we return to the castle!”

The book store run didn’t last for very long considering they both had an idea of exactly what they needed, the only dallied around the new shipment of quills that were fancifully decorated, as the glitter was hardly something anyone could resist. They paid for their things and stepped back out into the frigid cold, the snow surprisingly calming down quite a bit considering they’d expected it to only turn up.

“Hm, it seems we still have a decent amount of time to spare,” George muttered, glancing down at his wrist watch.

“What should we do? I doubt the others are finished,” [y/n] exhaled, the plume of air dancing in front of her before blending in with the rest of the atmosphere.

“I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me,” He perked up, that same giddy excitement from the night before written all over his face.

“As long as you’re not dragging me to the Shrieking Shack, I’m more than happy to come along.”

“Brilliant, alright then, follow me!”

***

“Oh, Merlin!”

[y/n] gaped at the scenery, her eyes bulging out of her head as she took in the beauty around her. The trees towered high over them, covered in sheets of snow, the green peaking out as if to remind them that it was still persisting through the cold. A few patches here and there of purple flowers that had withstood the freezing cold, poking out from under the snow. A lone bench poised in the center of it all, the entire place feeling like a little nook they could call their own.

“This place is gorgeous George! How ever did you find it?” She breathed, absolutely enamored with the way everything looked.

“You’d be surprised what you can find with a few years of exploring and adventuring under your belt,” He nodded, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at her display of wonder.

“Yet again, you are absolutely incredible George,” She said, more to herself than him, but still managing to get him flustered.

“I’m glad you like it, I’d hoped you would. Wanna take a seat?”

“Oh, sure!”

She staggered over, dragging her feet through the thick layers of snow towards the bench, pulling out her wand to mutter an incantation so that the snow on the bench melted away, leaving it clean and dry for them to sit on. She plopped down with a huff of content, her legs finally getting a break from all their heaving in their monstrous snow boots.

“I’ve always wanted to bring someone here, y’know,” George sighed, setting his bag of stuff down between his feet.

“Am I-?”

“The first person I’ve brought here? Yeah,” He nodded, a small smile unconsciously pushing its way onto his lips.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” She nearly whispered, taken aback with just how forward he was being and just how lucky of a position she was in, “thank you George.”

“Of course,” He grinned at her, his cheeks red from the blistering cold.

“Hey George?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

His smile faltered and his eyes widened as he processed her request.

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask, because I got a feeling-,” She went off, trying to save whatever was left of her dignity.

“[y/n]!” He grabbed her face, turning her head so she was facing him again, “you can.”

He pulled her into him, their lips connecting in a sweet exchange. She felt her bag slide out of her lap as she scooted closer to him, her arms wrapping around his torso, trying to pull him into her the best she could with their awkward positioning. He did the same, pressing into the curve of her body as he held her face like if he let go she’d vanish.

It was a soft and drawn out kiss, the two finally reveling in the fact that they’d both gotten what they’d so desperately wanted all this time. George could practically feel himself going lightheaded from just how overwhelmed he was.

When they pulled away, he had that same grin, giddy joy practically radiating off of him, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“Me too,” she giggled, unwrapping her arms from around him to reach forward and tuck his stray hairs back under his hat.

“Can we do it again?” He asked, eyes wide with childlike anticipation.

“You can do it as much as you’d like, darling. I’m all yours from here on out,” She hummed, slinging her arms around his neck

“Absolutely wicked! Now c’mere, love.”

#george weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #hogsmeade #mar writes

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rosy-cheekx · 4 years ago

Text

Gone to Plan

(Thanks @janekfan for the inspo and encouragement!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754072

Jon hates taking days off. The archive’s been in chaos since he took over but not for lack of trying. But he’s in charge, he’s The Archivist, and he needs to prove to Elias that he’s qualified for the job, that his offhand comments and glances when he thinks Jon can’t see are wrong. He’s good enough. He has to be.

So that’s why he’s not called off. He can’t miss a day, even if the thermometer hovered around a high 38 last night. There’s too much work to do and too much to prove to himself to Elias. Jon’s not stupid though, he’s got his scarf wound around his face as not to spread his germs to Rosie as he passes her, or his assistants. (Thank the powers that be that it’s January, and his scarf, gloves, and bundled torso blend in with the other Londoners hustling through the streets.) Jon’ll get there early and leave late so he can minimize the contact he has with everyone else. He doesn’t think he’s contagious, but he plans to lock himself in his office and record statements all day, just in case.

But when have things ever gone to plan?

So here he is, the January chill a welcome relief to his feverish skin as he travels the short block into the Magnus Institute from his usual bus stop. Its not yet 8, and the sun is finally cresting the skyline, a watery grey light reminding the weary man of just how early it is. With shaking hands, he unlocks the glass doors of the humble building with the key Elias had given him all those weeks ago (“I noticed you’ve seemed rather overwhelmed during work hours. If you think coming in early or leaving late will help you do your job better, who am I to stop you?”) and hurries his way into the building and down into the archives, burying a cough into his scarf as he locks himself into his dark office.

It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Jon reckons he can go a day without seeing his assistants; Tim and Sasha are happy to occupy themselves without his direction and Martin—well, with any luck he’ll be too intimidated preoccupied with his work to bother him after Jon rejects his first offer of tea. Tea would be nice though, Jon thinks as he closes his office door and surveys the piles of paperwork and manila folders haphazardly covering and lining the area around his desk. He falls into his chair, the metal legs screeching against the cement in a way that has him seeing stars. Jon hadn’t realized his head was pounding, but god he was sorely aware of it now. He rattles a cough into his elbow that lasted a full thirty seconds; the effort of it left him sweating and he peels off a few layers of his ensemble rapidly, discarding scarf, gloves, overcoat, and two oversized sweaters (one being a What The Ghost sweater he’d stolen from Georgie and had consequently “lost”).

Jon rakes a hand through his curls, grossly aware of the thin sheen of sweat on his scalp and opens the first of the manila folders piled high on his desk, just about eye-level. He leaves his fingers tangled in his curls, tugging slightly, hoping the pressure will help him stay focused, and stares at the words on the page. Reading has been a cornerstone of Jon’s personality, but looking at the page now, he wasn’t sure he had ever been literate. The letters swirled and morphed on the page, pulsing slightly to the beat of his pounding head.

He’s not sure how long he’s been staring at the page, this same page of the same folder, the statement of…someone…when he hears a cacophony of familiar laughter outside his door, in the bullpen where the three other desks and three other chairs resided. Sasha is laughing, likely at something Tim had said. Normally, he finds the laughter of his friends coworkers delightful, even calming, but the pitch of Sasha’s voice feels unbearable today, too high and just sharp enough to send a shiver of irritation down his spine. Or was he just cold? God, he’s freezing. He looks around desperately for his discarded sweaters and pulled them back over his head, just managing to pull the second sweater over his torso before an onslaught of shaking takes over his body and he’s quaking uncontrollably in his seat until the shivers die down. His jaw aches from the chattering of his teeth and he kneads it with his thumbs while trying to massage his temples with his other fingers. Jon ignores the knock on the door to his office, choosing on a whim to let them believe he wasn’t here at all, while booting up his laptop. Maybe reading the statement aloud will help him comprehend it.

“Jesus—fuck!” He had made his way, painfully, through the whole statement, pausing through bouts of chills and hot flashes, taking almost an hour to record what would usually take twenty minutes. It had seemed to record on his laptop just fine, but now that he was trying to listen back to it, the audio was nothing but static, though the wavelengths in the audio file would suppose otherwise. How the hell was he supposed to do his job if he couldn’t even trust his equipment to hold up its end of the bargain? Jon slammed his hands against the desk in frustration as he cursed his laptop, cursed Elias, cursed this stupid fucking job, completely forgetting he had decided to pretend not to be here. The low murmur of conversation that had been floating from the bullpen pauses for a moment, before becoming quieter and more intense. Goddamn it, now they would be worrying about him and asking questions and wasting their time and his time and god his head hurt and he was shaking he was cold hewashotandcoldandmiserable-

“…Jon?” Comes a hesitant voice from the other side of the door, mercifully without a knock. “Are-are you in there? Are you alright?”

“’course I’m alright, Martin,” he spat the name like it burnt him to say it. “I’m a grown man, I don’t need babysitting.”

“You sure about that, boss?” Tim. Goddamn. They had the entire cavalry outside his office. “None of us saw you come in and Sash and I were here before nine, which mean you either spent the night or were here way too early, which I’m pretty sure violates Archive rules.”

Jon opens his mouth to respond but his words are buffeted back by a coughing fit that rattles his chest and leaves his throat raw. “Quite sure, thank you. Just—” Another fit, mercifully shorter. “—a little under the weather today.”

“Can you just open the door?” Ever the diplomat, Sasha’s voice was plaintive and serious. “That sounds serious, Jon. We can make you some tea or get you some cough suppressant-“

“I did just buy a lemon tea that’s s’posed to be great for a cough,” Martin adds, voice pitching up eagerly for a moment.

Jon hopes his silence speaks for him as another wave of chills rips through his spine, leaving his entire body aching with the tremors.

“Sims, here’s the deal.” Tim’s voice was serious now, the playful banter gone. “We are trying to be respectful, but the door isn’t locked. We can come in if we need to.”

Jon wants to be angry with them. He feels angry, how dare they not trust him to know his own limits, to treat him like a child, to care for him and love him like family. He opens his mouth to tell them off, but of course, his body betrays him. A cough rattles through him so hard that he bends over involuntarily, doubled over by the force of his lungs trying to eject themselves from his ribcage, and slams his head on the edge of the desk in the process. He groans, the blow doing nothing to ease his headache, quite the contrary, and he knows he’s lost all hope of his assistants leaving him alone.

A chorus of “Jon!” and “are you alright?” come from the other side of the door before he hears a mumbled “fuck it” and hears the door swing open and the cacophony of shoes on his cement floor.

“Jesus, Jonathan Sims.” The archivist’s eyes are squeezed tight, pain and fever overwhelming his senses, hands balled in fists held against to his chest, trying to fight the tremors wracking his body. Jon feels cool hands against his forehead and cheeks. “You’re burning up. Sasha, grab the first aid kit, will you?” They shouldn’t be doing this; they have more important things to right now. They have leads to chase and statements to file and he can deal with this himself he’ll be fine. He opens his eyes, ready to tell the trio off and make a curt rejection of their help, calm and composed, but his vision is swirling now just like the statement was earlier; he can’t seem to focus on any of the faces in front of him. He feels the tremors ease slightly as his body turns hot now, feels his face flush and skin prickle with sweat, and suddenly he needs to be on the floor. The cement is cool and dry and it’ll make him feel better-

“Woah-hey! Jon! Tim-help me…” “We got you, boss man, stay upright for now, yeah? Let’s set him down gently, ready?”

“Thermometer says 39—Jesus. I grabbed some water. Should we call 999?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Jon? Call the ambulance?”

“Don’t…call me Jonathan…”

Jon’s eyes open, wincing, to the harsh ceiling lights of the document storage room. He feels weighted down, limbs heavy, and as he adjusts to the room he certainly wasn’t in earlier, he looks down to see a mountain of fabric covering his body. Sweaters, coats, blankets, scarves, hats, shrugs, every scrap of cloth in the entire institute must be piled on him right now. No wonder he can barely move his arms.

“Oh, hey, Jon.” A cool, soft hand passes over his scalp and smooths out his curls, and Sasha comes into view, hair swinging over her shoulders, expression soft. “You scared us a bit there.”

Jon blinks for a moment, mouth open as he tries to find words and croaks out a cracked, “Sorry.”

Her soft laugh, tinkling like a bell, sounds calming again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a good day for the archives if the scariest thing is a bit of a fever. Here.” She holds out a water bottle, and he squirms his hands out of his cocoon of layers to accept it, not realizing how thirsty he was until the cool liquid passes his cracked lips. “How does your head feel?”

Jon presses a hand to his forehead lightly, feeling a small square of gauze at his hairline. He frowns slightly, searching his fever-addled memory for what caused it. Right, the coughing fit. “I’ve been better,” he mumbles diplomatically. “Headaches mostly gone, though.” It was a dull throb now that his neck was constantly tensing against the shivers that had wracked his thin frame.

“You can thank Martin for that, actually. Apparently he’s a pro in head and neck messages. Who would’ve guessed, right?” Tim’s voice calls, just out of sight, and Jon sits up on his elbows to see the rest of his staff, sitting on the floor, surrounded by files, laptops illuminating their faces. Martin shrugs shyly, gaze flicking between Jon and his laptop like he wasn’t sure where to look, mumbling something about migraines, or maybe his mum. “We should start a side business. Been trying to think of good names all afternoon.”

“Afternoon?” Jon croaks, glancing fervently for the clock he knew wasn’t in the document storage room. “How long-“

“Like four or five hours. You woke up a couple times to drink some water and take some paracetamol and fever reducers, which is the only reason you’re not in your own private ward at St. August’s.”

Jon frowns to himself. Four or five hours? He’s wasted a whole day, not only for himself but for his staff too. “Right well, thank you all for watching after me, but I feel fine now. You’re all welcome to return to your desks.”

Martin huffs out a laugh this time, something of pure incredulity. “Right, like we’re going to pretend you didn’t pass out with a fever of 39 into my arms and weren’t shaking like a leaf and sweating and coughing so hard you nearly gave yourself a concussion-“ Tim presses a hand to the other man’s shoulder firmly and he cuts himself off.

“Alright. Point made.” Jon’s voice wavered more than he likes, and he watches the two men rise to stand behind either side of Sasha.

“Jon,” Sasha’s voice is soft. “We were worried about you. You’re our boss and our friend, and we don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Especially since you control our pay raises.”

“Tim!” A swat to his chest from two hands, one small and dark, the other larger and pale.

“Why did you even come in today?” Martin’s eyes are softer now, the bite that was in them earlier replaced with compassion. Compassion for Jon.

“I-I really don’t. But…thank you. I see your point.” Jon sits up now, watching the top few layers of bundling tumble off him in a small avalanche, but pulls as much of the fabric as he can over his form to shield himself from his own admissions. No use in putting up a front now. “I suppose I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. Overworked, even. I was worried about the consequences of being behind with all—all the statements and write-ups and supp-supplementals and figured I could get through a day without incident and take the weekend to recover. I was wrong, clearly.”

In lieu of harassing him over being wrong, Tim chews his lip thoughtfully for a moment. “You know, we’re your assistants for a reason. We saw how much you have on your plate right now.” He gestured to the little castle of manila he and Martin had been sitting in. “Half of that is stuff you could have given to us. But, either way, the Archive won’t crumble if Jonathan Sims takes a sick day. Hell, I’ll bet you a round of drinks at Molly’s it’ll still be standing after a sick week.” His eyebrow is cocked playfully, but the impact of his words is not lost.

Jon rubs a hand against the nape of his neck, the miraculous lack of tension reminding him of Martin massaged his head and the thought is so intimate he blushes and suddenly can’t meet the eyes of his assistants. He wishes he could remember it. Perish the thought.

“A compromise,” Jon offers, finally focusing his fever-addled mind. “Two rounds if you trust me to come back when the fever’s gone.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Tim’s hand is the one he shakes, half in jest and half deadly serious, but it’s Martin’s eyes he can’t tear his gaze from.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #fever #hurt/comfort #not really sure what this is tbh #but it was fun #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #tim stoker #fanfic to a tea

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jcmorrigan · 3 years ago

Note

How was your element of harmony fic gonna end?

OOH NOW THIS ONE HAS BEEN SUCH A WHILE THAT THIS ACTUALLY SOUNDS FUN TO TALK ABOUT

Context for those unaware: EoH was one of my many attempts at a multicrossover. A predecessor to TBTC. It was my goal at being an EVERYTHING CROSSOVER and taking forever to highlight every little thing that could be explored in the canon of each work used. And I was in a difficult relationship with KH at the time, even though it was obviously a KH derivative, so I didn't want to actually use Sora and co. as the main cast. MLPFIM was a comfort show for me, and I was already used to the br0n135 using the Mane Six in crossovers with everything you could imagine, so I was like, hey, let's do this, Mane Six are now multi-world travelers and Discord is assembling every villain ever to stand in their way. (KH then ended up in the mythos anyway!) This is also where I was playing the infamous Twilight Sparkle/Mozenrath ship that is now very very dead.

To explain exactly what all was going on with the lore and politics of it to make this last bit make sense would take too long, so from there, please just...roll with it. I'm about to detail you THE FINALE ARC

The original idea was actually, at some point, to begin work on the Finale Arc when most of the main players were introduced. Then go back in time and keep editing the middle of the story to go on indefinitely. A bad business plan for many reasons, first of all being that I didn't even get to introduce the players that would've made it possible to begin the arc. That's how long I took to explore EVERY FRICKIN THING.

Over the course of the story, Discord has been interfering on every crossover world you can imagine, to the point of sometimes altering their canons into "fix fic." The story is aware of this. It's kinda like in the Loki series (of which I've only watched episode 1) where there's a "sacred timeline" and Discord's crossover actions are deliberate attempts by him to break it. We learn at some point that paradoxes and timeline changes are what broke the Age of Fairy Tales into the KH worlds we know today. So Discord rounds up his Old Ones (the Lovecraftian monstrosities that are more powerful than gods) and they all band together to strike at all the cracks he's put in the structure of the multiverse, and it all just falls APART. Worlds are destroyed, time has no meaning, suddenly everything is shards floating in void. The main players survive, mostly. Countless civilians die. Some named characters are given tragic deaths.

I've actually written one little snippet from this arc because I wanted to. It details two particular characters, who at the time were side villains I enjoyed and was just digging the vibe of, going down defending a stronghold from the creatures of Darkness (oni, yokai, Heartless, Grimm) that emerged from the void when everything broke. By the way do you want to take a guess who these characters IT WAS ARCHIBALD SNATCHER AND ROMAN TORCHWICK. GOD, THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN THE SIGN RIGHT THEN AND THERE THAT THEY WERE WHO I WANTED TO BE WRITING ABOUT FULL-TIME

But! I had a friend who'd lent me the book "Haroun and the Sea of Stories," and I was REALLY into that book's whole concept of "all stories in existence are threatened to end." So I lifted Khattam-Shud, a personification of The End (and I have since heard is also a political caricature), as the ACTUAL final boss. Discord wanted to blow up the multiverse because of the CHAOS that would ensue! KS, however, wanted to end EVERYTHING. (If I were doing this today, he'd just flat-out be Ansem, Seeker of Darkness instead.) Discord would realize he'd been played as KS makes a bid to line up one more cataclysm that will reduce everything to dust.

Heroes and villains alike, Discord included, find each other across the wastelands and amass into one last survivors' army led by the Mane Six. They approach the final field standing between them and KS and they charge. KS unleashes Dark creatures (Echthroi, as I had it) to gun them down. Pretty much everyone dies in this battle except the Mane Six themselves. (Which should give you a hint as to how this REALLY ends, but let's keep going.) The Mane Six fight their way to KS (and I'm REALLY gonna date myself here - the final line of defense before him was gonna be Paige the freaking Notebook from DHMIS as a personification of creative control). He shatters the Elements and then un-exists the Mane Six, but they don't die.

Instead, they end up in a sort of...white realm, inspired by the development rooms in The Stanley Parable (I was into even weirder fandoms back then than I am now apparently?). At one point it was gonna be "inside the author's laptop" and they could see doors to other timelines (i.e. crossover fanfics my friends were doing). They can also see all the files here for all the worlds they visited on their way and all the friends they made. Y'know, everything that's now DEAD.

The memories of everyone and everything they loved, however, allows them to forge one (1) new Element stone. This is...wait for it...THE ELEMENT OF HARMONY. Its surface shimmers with a rainbow of all colors! But wait! When it's flipped over, there's another side to the same gem, with colors dissonantly swirled around in an ugly way. Our heroines realize that the Element of Harmony also serves a dual purpose as the Element of Chaos, since you can't have one without the other!

The Mane Six find a way back to KS' battlefield, where he's about to finally UN-EXIST EVERYTHING. Twilight gets to say the one and only "FUCK" she's allowed to say in the whole story (I really...want to use this same joke on Mozenrath in TBTC...I know I've said he curses inaudibly to keep him IC but just imagine in the finale arc he gets the one and only FUCK he's ever allowed in his life). The six huddle around their Element of Harmony and activate its magic, casting a rainbow aura that begins to heal the broken multiverse. KS then tells them there's no way that will ever work because he and the other Old Ones caused so many paradoxes that it'll fall back apart again. To build a multiverse that's stable under these conditions would make no sense. And Twilight goes "WHAT FUN IS THERE IN MAKING SENSE" and flips the Element over to the Chaos side! Now the Chaos energy basically...fixes all the plot holes and physical impossibilities of the multiverse, allowing it to rebuild everything that had broken without a single issue!

Discord petrifies Khattam-Shud and it was fairly badass but I can't remember exactly what one-liner I gave him to end it.

Lights up on a rebuilt multiverse. Everyone's alive again and nothing's broken! YAY! And everyone in the survivor army (though they're not "survivors" anymore since EVERYONE is alive again) has come to Equestria to give the Mane Six a celebration for saving literally everything! AND THEY'RE ALL PONIES OR OTHERWISE MAGICAL CREATURES BECAUSE OF MY RULES OF FORM CHANGING IN THAT FIC. HAHAHAHAHA IT WAS A VERY COMICAL MENTAL IMAGE AND STILL IS.

The Six get their ships (Twilight/Mozenrath, Pinkie Pie/Megavolt, Fluttershy/Sakuya from Okami, Rarity/Stork, Rainbow Dash/I would really rather not say this one because it was taboo in a way I don't wanna touch again, Applejack/I don't even know anymore because it was gonna be Emma Swan and then it wasn't and then I just got confused). And everyone just has a good time.

The Six then take off in the ship again for THE ADVENTURE CONTINUING, EVEN THOUGH AFTER THIS I WOULD JUST GO WRITE ETERNAL ADVENTURE LEADING UP TO THIS MOMENT

Also I heard the song "We Come Running" by Youngblood Hawke on the radio once and I was like "This would go great over a credits sequence" so I used it for a while as my inspo for a KH-style "credits montage" where you see each of the most major worlds and the factions that live on them, and an early concept for the WHAM ARMY was one of these factions and this cracks me up so much because they graduated from a shot in the KH montage to WE ARE THE PROTAGS OF THE NEXT FIC

And that's pretty much it!

#eoh #elements of harmony #i hope you enjoyed this fucking crack shitshow #anyway. watch me pretend this is old news and then #DO THIS EXACT SAME ARC WITH ANSEM IN TBTC -#don't worry it can't supercede the eraqus shit

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jaeyooniverse · 5 years ago

Text

the FIRST COLLECTION commentary no one asked for, by yours truly

1. Good Guy

00:00 - I love that the recent comebacks have had That Sound at the beginning. Not the same sound but a distinct sound that the moment the song starts you just KNOW. They are sounds i love to imitate tbh

00:08 - okay idk why but the crescendo of the synth/strings (i dont know music words, bare with me for this) it’s so pretty and very well represents how i gradually get more excited as the song starts ( ilove this song). also i’ve watched so may stages that now my mind just immediately starts the fanchant

00:16/00:21/00:23/other times but i wont list them all - the echos!! ugh i love it *chefs kiss*

00:21 - okay i love all of taeyangs opening line but esp the “oh noo”

00:29 - the Slight autotune to dawon’s voice as he says “baby” is my aesthetic

00:38 - jaeyoon does this part so well like it’s just so PERFECT for him; i love how he says “yeah” sdfhdjkd

00:47 - THE BASS DURING THE CHORUS. this alone gets me so excited it’s so GOOD ; this chorus is the perfect type of addictive like it’s catchy but you wont get annoyed when it’s stuck in your head oof

01:01 - what do i even say,, inseong,,,,

01:14 - i’m probably gonna say this a million times but jaeyoons vocals are so perfect for his parts, props to whoever decides the line distribution, truly, and props to my man’s execution ♡_♡

01:17 - i’m upset youngbin’s part is so short bc it’s so GOOD esp the “feel it” and the “that’s what i like neoui jeonbureul YEH” and omg now whenever his part comes on i think about that penguin video and him reenacting it 🥺🥺

01:26 - zuhos part is also gold and i love the dance during his & bin’s parts !

01:36 - am i the only one(haha) who gets butterflies in my stomach when dawon sings?? something about the slight run when he sings “molla~ yeah”... oof

01:41 - ROWOON. Yes. i love how soft his voice is compared to when jaeyoon sings this shdfkjh

01:51 - i already mentioned the bass during the chorus but i MUST point it out again. i love the triple beat or WHATEVER you wanna call it ugh it’s my favorite part

02:02 - who can “oh yeah” like rowoon? no one can, no one’s doing it like him

02:19 - i can’t believe i had to wait more than 2 minutes to hear hwiyoung rap for like 2 seconds but ANWAY i love his part i love his rapping voice also the little guitar part in the bg!! good stuff!!!

02:33 - okay inseong i get it, you have vocals. also i was lowkey disappointed that note didn’t last longer?? also also the first time i heard this i got flashbacks to Be A Man by MBLAQ when G.O’s sings his “never” (that’s how long i wanted inseong’s note to be) and funnily so, it’s around the same time mark as this one lmaoo

02:36 - how the muic goes quiet afterwards,, inseong’s voice echoing and fading away,, poetic cinema

02:37 - THE BASS ,, it hits differently when it’s that end-of-the-song hype 😩

02:39 - THE “OH!”

02:46 - this part also hits different,, when you watch the stage and zuho is in center looking like THAT....it hits, it truly hits...

02:50 - okay waait i literally just noticed this but is that jaeyoon saying “you so bad” in the bg??

02:53 - not to be dramatic but the first time i heard this song i literally teared up (i still do, if i’m sensitive enough) when it got to this part like dawon’s voice is just something else !! when he sings “naya”,,, ugh the color, the emotion, the man,,,, also cant listen to this part and NOT think about (or do) his little dab move thing sdhfkjh

02:57 - the “chajabwa!” oh vocal king 😩

2. Am I the Only One

00:06 - 😳

00:11 - jaeYOON! I love how airy ? his voice can sound The echoes man, the echoes,,

00:38 - okay this is literally one of my favorite lines dawon’s voice sounds so good here i literally canNOT get over it any time i listen to this song. That “OoH” at ~00:43? the “geuriumi miumi dwaegimaneul I PRAY” ,, an instant classic

00:48 - the VOCALS at this part,, unmatched

01:07 - the “oh-ohh” in the bg i love it shjkshf

01:34 - loook when i tell you youngbins part is my fave part of this song!!! it’s a shame it’s so short but OH i’m always so excited when it starts,, idk what it is,, his voice? the vibes?? the rhymes?? whatever it is,,, it all comes together to make one of my fave youngbin verses

02:00 - yes I already pointed out dawon’s “i pray” part but it hits different everytime he does it, i’m telling you!

02:01 - the amount of layers in this song,, i think it’s inseong&rowoon right?? and then jaeyoon’s little “hey ay”s 🥺

02:39 - chani’s part is like, third favorite for this song. I love his voice, the vibes of this ,, the “yeh yeh” at ~2:43

02:54 - zuho does this thing where it sounds like he’s trying to rush and squish his verse into a certain frame of measures but in the end it still spills into the next measure and tbh i like it here dsfhjkh

02:57 - the POWER in this man’s VOICE ugh this verse is truly for me like going from dawon singing like THAT to jaeyoon, oof i’m in love

03:23 - youngbin’s “tell me where the love goes”,, the little echo of it (how many times will i mention echoes? stay tuned)

03:34 - that ending,, *chef’s kiss*

3. Shh

firstly i love that i now know Two (2) songs with this title (okay the Seventeen one has another ‘h’ but, still), and i love that they’re two diff feels. seventeens is that Good Noise, and has the “shh , just trust me” vibe, while sf9’s is just “shhhut up”

00:00 - the guitar! yes

00:12 - i dont even know what to call this sound but i love it

00:26 - LOVE tae’s vocals oof

00:28 - “right here is where i wanna be”,, you know where i wanna be?? an sf9 concert

00:33 - jaeyoon’s “baby don’t question me”,,, 😳

00:40 - the R is Rowoon stands for RealTalent

00:54 - the instrumental to this song is so good like i could just listen to that alone; also that “ooh~” we stan!

01:02 - inseong’s vocals in this song (okay in ANY song, but we’re talking about this song rn) are just,, amazing

01:26 - i just noticed how that “yeahhh” drags on idk how i feel about this im shdfjkh

01:36 - hi i’m tawa and i’m a dawonaholic

01:50 - shout to that beautiful saxophone tho,, gorgeous

02:03 - see i’m trying to limit how many times i mention dawons lines bc otherwise i would just comment on all of his lines ANYWAY this line hits different the second time around,, when he hits this note,,, i’m ascending as we speak

02:25 - okay the instrumental during zuho’s part,,, good stuff.. his part in general,, GOOD stuff!!

02:30 - the pause at the end of the line and then the little ‘ding’! musical gold

02:33 - his little “whoop”s and “hey”s and “ay”s omg Number One Hype Man Baek Juho!! the build up of the music & him increasing the speed of his rap,, who is doing it like zuho please tell me

02:39 - here’s a secret: i love dawon’s vocals

02:45/2:51 - K I M I N S E O N G

02:56 - okay just one more time,, i love dawons vocals

Wait was hwiyoungbin in this song? Sdfhkjh

4. Lullu Lalla

okay idk what i was on the first time i heard this song but for whatever reason i didn’t think much of it,, but now i have seen the [beautiful] light i absolutely love this song

00:00 - like it just started and the music is so cute and cheery omg i love this, youngbin’s little “here we go yo~”

00:07 - okay i know the lyric is “drop in” but in my mind i always say “jopping” 💀💀

00:11 - “hey what’s good?” sir it’s your voice,, your voice is whats good

00:20 - hwis voice is so cute i love it sdhfjkh

00:30 - the little “WheeEe” !! i giggle every time it’s so flippin cute like i have the stupidest smile on my face rn i love this part so mcuh

00:40 - the ‘ya jamkkan’ and then the small pause yo i LOVE this and also the “jinjja?” sdhfjkshj GOD i love this song

00:41 - if you try to tell me this song is not perfect for jaeyoon’s voice i will Not listen to you. youve lost your right to form opinions i’m sorry

00:54 - i have no idea what to call it but that little high pitch noise/sound/thing that kinda mimics the lyrics/rhythm is so cute to me, esp in a later part of the song but we’ll get to that when we get to that

01:05 - “DONT YOU STOP”, filed under “Lines Tawa Cannot Hear and NOT Sing Along To”

01:09 - i really cant think of any other word to describe dawons voice here except cute :(( maybe i just think hes cute :(( also inseong’s “you’re so crazy~” like okay we get it you have vocals

01:12 - sdhfjkhkj the only thing better than the “whee” is chani going “yeaayyy” 😭😭😭 tell me this isnt the cutest part of the song!! I dare you!!

01:22 - there goes zuho doing that thing with his rap again

01:24 - “nan sweet guy” is also filed under “Lines Tawa Cannot Hear and NOT Sing Along To”, i think jaeyoons voice is so soft and pretty here :c

02:07 - idk what to say i just like these lines

02:12 - completely unbiased but this is like my fave part of the song omg yes dawon bb hit those notes 😭 and the at the end of his note that high pitch thing comes in and does its little thing and it’s so cute okay? this whole song is just so CUte. i havent read the lyrics translations but the small words/phrases ive picked up oh it’s cute i should really read the translations for these songs sometime shdfkjsh

02:23 - the way dawon says “beolsseo time over” is like one of my favorite things ever, along with how he says “joha” (well, more like “jowa” sdhfkjh but it’s so cute ugh im devastated why do i love his voice so much okay anyway--

02:49 - yoo taeyang ily

02:53 - “that was crazy” you know what’s crazy? How cute that song is

5. One Love

00:00 omg cute funky queennn!! also not to be me but like,, jaeyoons ooh-ooh ooh’s at the beginning is enough reason for this to win aoty no i will not accept any other opinions

00:20 - idk why i just like how inseong says “naman bollae”

00:24 - jaeyoon ;;-;;

00:33 - just,, this,,, *heart eyes* taeyang’s lil airy voice is like,, so good,, so beautiful

00:41 - baby,,,i want you, so loving for you,,, you’re all i think about all day,,,,, bros this is lichrally me @ dawon i can’t believe the writers for this song would get inspo from me WHERE ARE MY ROYALTIES. okay but seriously his voice when he sings haru jongil ni saengakbbuniya :((( <33 i like to imagine he’s softly smiling as his voice softens and trails off at the end,,, oh no oh boy im soft look what ive done ive thought about this for too long lets move on before i start-- *cries*

01:09 - part 247023789 of my crying over dawon’s vocals. stay tuned for more

01:22 - ugh kim inseong if you dont stop

01:29 - OW

01:30 - love how taeyang sings this esp the ending syllable omg

01:44 - the little trill or whatever in jaeyoon’s voice,, filed under “Reasons to Smile”

01:57 - i lichrally screamed like his voice is just so pretty and then the layering when he says “bbuniya” im gonna cry see you guys later

02:43 - chani~~~

02:47 - whys hwi rapping like he had a time limit and he almost went over it like,,, they really just smooshed rap line all into this one part which like i guess i get? the way this song goes doesnt really lend itself to rap i guess ?

02:51 - the pause, the silence,,, only to be broken by the golden vocals of kim inseong,, im love

02:58 - seong’s lil “yeah!"

03:17 - “focus on my mind YEAH”

03:27 - sweet ending to a sweet song ;c

6. Like the Hands Held TIght

this song is truly Fall in Love’s little cousin like they are really related and im not good with words so i cant explain it but i just KNOW. sometimes i’ll be singing fall in love in my head but then somehow it turns into like the hands held tight?? If i could make song mash-ups i would

00:06 - i go “take my, my hands yeahh” at least once a day. thank you taeyang

00:14 - i need a taeyang solo and i need it now ; also i really like hwis verse? Idk what it is about it but it fits him very well and he does so good during the stages, he rocks it

00:32 - i like all of bin’s verse but esp this part especially especially bc of the choreo during it

00:37 - and then THIS part and dawon’s the only one on stage,,, what an experience,,

00:44 - the way he pronounces maeumeul is just.. *chefs kiss*

00:49 - another instance of tae’s wonderful airy? singing being absolutely perfect for the song concept

00:55 - aah~

01:00 - the EMOTION

01:08 - idk what it is but inseong singing ‘gotongdoO~!’,, my heart,, sasiliya feel it

01:12 - imma say it now bc you already know im thinking it,, jaeyoons voice is PERFECT for this song, hands down no questions,,, that falsetto

01:16 - “nae huimangui bichi neoya” ♡_♡

01:19 - “sumeul swineun iyudo”

01:21 - “AY. AY!”

Idk if it’s obvious but i just LOVE his part it’s so good i love the way he sings

01:34 - ‘yeah yeah yeah’

01:35 - omg i love rowoons part and his little dance during the stage it’s so good so wonderful just all around amazing great job seokwoo

01:37/01:39 - the little pause before the “yeah”s and just how different these two yeahs are but also i love them both equally

01:47 - *eun dan oh voice* HARU-YAH sdhfkjh okay anyway i love the way jaeyoon sings these lines esp how he says haru and naeili (also? Time over? like is this lullu lalla?)

01:57/02:06 - dawon :’)

02:42 - dAngerOUS neooreuuuul wihaaaae

02:47 - dawon’s vocals omgggg

02:53 - okay whos that high note im LIVING for this

02:57 - ugh okay i love taeyang in the background; taeyang in this song in general,,,

03:05 - jaeyoons lines are just so gooddd i love singing along to this song

7. Fire

00:00 - love the little sounds at the beginning,, quality start

00:04 - “it’s me” uhm okay but who are you?

00:05 - the instrumental is so good tho sdhkjh oof

00:36 - not biased or anything but oh my goodness dawon’s voice!! It’s so pretty :c

00:41 - ready! ready! (go)

00:43 - LET’S GOO

The chorus for this song is just,,, so GOOD im sorry i only have like 5 words in my vocabulary but omg it’s just,,good

00:49 - this line!! I love it

00:59 - rowoon has that kinda voice that he could be saying any nonsense and you’d just be like *heart eyes* yes say it again king;; the way he says “let it go, let it go”

01:05 - love me love me love me YEAH 👌🏾

01:15 - YES

01:25 - omg youngbin ily omg his part is so lit but not like HYPE lit it’s just,, it’s chill lit we vibin

01:38 - im a little bit in love with dawon’s vocals in this song. just a little.

01:42 - the way he says READY. YOU GUYS IM CRYING I LOVE HIM?

01:50 - the way inseong sings “neoman” just,, soO good. inseong... good.

02:01 - rowoon if you dont be careful im gonna ‘fall in love’ with you

02:15 - chani & zuhos raps + the music change im LOVE this it’s so good

2:24 - omg zuho finishes his rap on time OH YEAH

02:27 - *cries* okay this is it,, this is my favorite dawon line in this song

02:34 - is it really an sf9 song without inseong’s incredible vocals??

02:40 - wait maybe this is my favorite dawon line?? Idk dont touch me;;; the way he says “neoman”,,,,, give me amoemn t dklfmsd fn.l

02:41 - okay and this part, that note,,,, lee sanghyuk,,,,,

8. Stop it Now

00:01 - okay we vibin

00:16 - i really think hwi’s voice fits this song so well, along with like the hands held tight, also love the instrumental during his part;;; is this his longest verse on the album ,, sdhfkj

00:31 - im not gonna lie i think this is jaeyoon but part of me is like what if its taeyang,, either way,, beautiful voice

00:45 - THIS is taeyang and THIS LINE?? perfect, he executes it so well. this album was truly made for him; also love the instrumental here,, i feel like i’d hear it in the bg of a fantasy mmo/rpg

00:59 - idk what it is about inseongs voice but i love it

01:03 - chaniiii

01:06 - :)

01:16 - hello there sir

01:31 - oh his voice is so pretty ;-;

02:23 - zuho’s raps being the buildup is my aesthetic bro

02:31 - YES inseong homygod

02:36 - dawon ;cc also inseongs bg vocals,, thanks for your contribution king

02:40 - wait was i not paying attention or is this the first time rowoon sings (i probably wasnt paying attention)

02:44 - dawons little ‘yeah yeah’ and little adlibs?? filed under “Reasons to Stan”

02:51 - all the layering these background vocals and adlibs and just,,, what a lovely mix

02:53 - inseong imma let you finish but dawon’s “janin hage” is the greatest :// no im not biased

9. Dance with Us

00:01 - i love zuhos voice throughout this song omg :(

00:05 - omg the piano in the bg is so cute um i love it:((((

00:21 - the way inseong sings “nun bushyeo” 🥺

00:23 - tae’s high notes 🥺🥺🥺

00:28 - okay this line,, him saying ‘i like you’,,, ;;-;;

00:30 - lovvvvve hwis verse here, and the little “ay”s

00:38 - LMAO i just noticed the “AH!” in the bg??? Why??

00:40 - okay this line reminds me of bin’s verse in another song but i cant?? pinpoint it???? uhhhh i think it’s see u tomorrow?

00:47 - okay that transition from jaeyoon to taeyang,,, *chefs kiss*

00:52 - rowoon saying ‘haru’, they did it for us @extraordinary you stans

also im reading the lyrics as i do this and omg wait this song is so cute so precious,,”today was hard,wasnt it baby? Close your eyes you can hug me??” i’m sobbing?? I’m developing a new love for this song oh my heart--

00:56 - rowoons vocals when he says “naege angyeodo dwae” omg pls

00:57 - LOVE the layering during the chorus it’s so good but also i cant tell who the lower voice is? Zuho? Hwiyoung??

01:12 omg *a wild dawon appears*

01:16 - SKR SKRR

01:19 - no i’ll never shut up about dawon’s vocals

01:40 - these vocals mannnn,, you know what?? I need a jaeyoon & taeyang duet. like i know weve already got one from concerts but i need MORE

02:27 - i just love this part :((

02:31 - i was literally like “wheres inseong” and then he comes out with his powerful vocals as per usual,,,

02:35/’8 - like do you hear this??? go OFF sir also love how the music quiets down and then slowly builds back up !!

03:07/’8 - AAAAH YES BEST PART OF THE SONG I LOVE CHORUS/CHANTING OH IT’S SO GOOD I LOVE IT I LOVE THISS

03:23 - *whispers* dope

10. Beautiful Light

00:11 - “once in a lifetime~”

00:34 - i have already said and will continue to say this but rowoons voice is so perfect for this song

00:49 - dawon i would LOVE to be with you forever

00:53 - ugh this chorus is just so cute, so sweet ;c

00:59 - the way they sing “malhae JUlgeoya”,,, ugh love this little note jump thing idk what to call it,, it’s like a pretty version of a voice crack 😂😅

01:23 - zuhoooo

01:40 come through main vocalist kim youngkyunnnn!!

02:00 - yes im pointing out this line again i LOVE it

02:23 - this part 🥺🥺

02:29 - OKAY THIs PART!!! I swear rowoon’s voice is sooo pretty hear idk what it is but when he sings this line,,, my heart feels thing,,,emotions,,, it’s so much

02:33 - that “hoo-oh~” ugh rowoon please record an audiobook i could listen to you for hours 😔

02:44 - alright,, i have figured out the formula for sf9 songs,,, music slow down then build up with inseong’s high/long note around ~2:30-40 dkfhjsk before the last chorus but this time with more adlibs (probably also by inseong)

okay i’m done (for now) fsdfhjkhsf i’d be surprised if anyone actualy read any of this tbh. if you did read this, congratulations you have a better attention span that i do LMAO i would say stan sf9 but if youre reading this you probably already do

okay bye goodnight

#this is really over 3k words LMAO why did i do this #anyway i had fun i did it for me bc im always rambling in my head so i just needed to let the rambles out you know?#tawa.log

16 notes · View notes

biasedwriting · 6 years ago

Text

God Save The King ||13||

Find all the parts here

For the most enthusiastic reader of this series @tomatoholmes and my forever inspo @vixxscifiwritings .

Thanks @yixingminseokjongdae and @pinkhimchanism for listening to me cry over this chapter.

“Minah,” Wonshik called to her as she looked up from her seat in the hibiscus garden, she smiled as she got to her feet to greet her cousin. It had been two weeks since the news of her betrothal to Taekwoon had been announced to the kingdom sending shockwaves across the land. She knew that the people were surprised, had made assumptions about her character. They would quell down, she knew, especially since she was never formally engaged to Wonshik and all discussions about Sooyeon had been kept under wraps.

“What do I owe the honour of the king searching for me?” she stood as Wonshik smiled back at her.

“I’m here to give you your gift,” he extended his arm, indicating that she follow him “it was the best thing I could think of giving you.” he commented as she followed him curiously.

“But the wedding isn’t till the end of the month!” Minah exclaimed, making Wonshik chuckle as he stopped at the palace kennels, waving to a worker who scurried out of view.

“I thought it would be best to acquaint you with him, much before your wedding,” the soft smile that graced Wonshik’s lips didn’t drop as the pitch black creature approached, bursting with energy, sharp eyes fixing themselves on the two figures ahead of it as its ears twitched with excitement, struggling at the leash that the worker tried to hold it by. Minah’s eyes widened as Wonshik grasped the leash and handed the two month old puppy to her “he will be full grown by the time you settle in the East, large enough to protect you when I cannot.”

The puppy snuffled around her feet as Minah’s eyes filled with tears as she bowed to Wonshik, he hugged her warmly “what would we do if anything ever happened to our Minah.”he sighed as she sniffled into his chest. The familiarity of their childhood bringing strong nostalgia as Wonshik remembered how much he had spoiled Minah till Sooyeon had come along. How he had held her terrified form when she had stumbled through the palace gates, the lone survivor of the attacks on the northern borders of the kingdom. Yet she was off again to unknown lands to keep him and his sister safe.

Wonshik shuddered, placing a hand on top of her head. Minah was the bravest soul he knew and he trusted her council. He swallowed his emotions and let out a shaky chuckle.

“Shall we call him Arm?”

She let out a choked laugh “no, Wonshik. We will call him Edo, he is a protector after all.”

***

Taekwoon slid the door of the music room open. Sooyeon had lent the room to Taekwoon to spend his time in. She had learnt that he enjoyed playing the piano in his childhood and was gracious enough to offer him her own grand piano.

It wasn’t a particularly large room, the warm wooden interiors contrasted the cool temperature of the room which was home to the large black instrument. Taekwoon took quick steps to it, admiring the gloss of the ebony and ivory keys. It was fine craftsmanship, he mused, caressing the keys as a chaotic melody left it. He smiled, the acoustics of the room was perfect.

Seating himself before the instrument, he sighed. He hadn’t seen Minah in two days. She had been busy training Sooyeon and preparing for the wedding. She had proudly introduced him to Edo, Wonshik’s gift to her, and he was pleased to see that the puppy had taken a liking for him. With all the hustle and bustle within the castle, he was certain she was busying herself with getting as much done in her last month here. Something about it made him smile as he idly played a familiar melody.

The door slid open moments later, as a snuffling sound followed it and a soft scold of “Edo, no! Do not disturb his majesty!” Taekwoon eyes shot up to meet Minah’s as she bowed apologetically “I thought it was Sooyeon, I will take your leave…”

“No, come in please,” Taekwoon called to her, Edo clearly taking the lead slid into the room and thrust his snout in Taekwoon’s outstretched palm. Minah hesitantly followed her puppy.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you” she began, standing beside the piano as Taekwoon patted the seat beside him.

“You are never disturbing me, please give me the pleasure of your company. Do you play?” he asked, she shook her head in response. Taekwoon could see she was rather tired out, however well she held herself.

“Playing the piano isn’t one of my talents your majesty, I do love the instrument.” she exhaled heavily, slowly placing herself on the seat. It was odd, she was going to marry this man soon and leave this place. Time moved faster than she could keep up with it. She watched his fingers dancing over the keys as Edo settled himself at her feet. Suddenly she realized how weary she felt. It was always Sooyeon playing the piano that helped her energise herself, the cheerful melodies always perked her up.

But now she felt calm. Incredibly so.

Taekwoon watched her from the side of his eyes, watching the entirety of her being trying to stay awake, her shoulder slumping slightly as she exhaled deeply. The worry on her forehead melting, eyes falling close as her lips curled upward into a smile. He felt himself smile.

“Lean on me, my lady,” he whispered, as her eyes flew open, noting how she had nearly fallen asleep “I insist.” he added, noting her hesitance. She was going to be his wife soon, and he knew that they had to work together to build a relationship.

She was warm when she leaned against him, not pressing the entirety of her weight on him. There is an fresh earthy scent that clung to his clothing, which she found pleasant, filing it away in her mind. This is what her husband to be smelled like - fresh like the morning dew. The cotton of his clothing was thick, inconvenient for the southern weather. His elegant fingers gently glided over the keys as he shifted gently to accommodate her, continuing the melody. He was comfortably warm in the cool room and she could feel her eyes slide close.

Taekwoon smiled as she curled on her seat beside him, her comfort apparent with how calm her face looked. Her hair curled in tendrils out of the braid she always had it in, the thin cotton of her robes fluttered, carrying with it the scent of the sea, he draped his cloak over her shoulder, mindful of the cold of the room, it dwarfed her, making him acutely aware of how small she is. He could easily engulf his future wife and yet, she felt so powerful to him that he was certain she would do just the same with him. She would help him put back the pieces of his kingdom, he knew it. Deep breaths left her lips reminding him of how they had pressed against his cheek and he could feel his ears heat up at the thought of it.

Minah blushed when she felt him brush the tendrils of hair off her forehead, before returning to play the instrument. Sometimes words weren’t needed to be comfortable with one another and she was glad that that was the case with the King of the East.

***

Minah didn’t know what to make of the hue and cry that was being made at the gates of the palace. It was when one of the staff informed her that a messenger had arrived from the West that she hurried towards the gates. Sooyeon joined her from her chambers, equally surprised by the noise of the arrival of a messenger from the West. It wasn’t abnormal for kings to send gifts before arriving themselves. The wedding was not to be held in another week, and Cha Hakyeon was to arrive on the day, as were the rest of the royal attendants of the wedding.

“What on earth could have possibly caused such a scene?” Minah wondered out aloud as Sooyeon shrugged, missing Taekwoon and Minseok strolling by the gardens by the gates. The messenger stood in front a large vehicle, looking around for someone in particular. He brightened up at the sight of Minah and Sooyeon.

“This is…rather large.” Sooyeon commented, looking at Minah suspiciously.

“It is Cha Hakyeon,” Minah laughed. She was aware of the king of the West's tendencies for theatrics having been personal witness to some of it “he enjoys the odd theatric every now and then.”

The cousins approached the vehicle, they found themselves being joined by Wonshik and his small council, all gaping at the largeness of the vehicle.

“What on earth.” Jongin whispered as he stationed himself beside Sooyeon and Minah. Taekwoon and Minseok found themselves approaching the scene, wondering what on earth was happening.

“It appears to be a wedding gift,” Minseok commented as Taekwoon nodded, peering at the large vehicle.

“State your business here.” Taemin demanded as the man held a sealed letter with the emblem of the West.

“I have come with engagement gifts for the lady Kim Minah and King Jung Taekwoon of the East from the King of the West Cha Hakyeon.” The messenger declared as Minah gaped. Sooyeon held back a laugh as she nudged her sister unaware of Taekwoon’s eyes on the scene.

“Search for King Taekwoon and request that he join us...” Wonshik barked to the staff standing there who scurried to find the king.

“You need not, I am present…” Taekwoon announced his presence, eyes fixed on the monstrosity of a vehicle bedecked with colourful curtains.

“They are here,” Sooyeon called to the messenger who approached, holding out the letter and bowing down as the curtains of the vehicle flew open revealing a large portrait. Sooyeon’s jaw dropped and if Minah was surprised to see herself looking back at her, she didn’t show it.

Taekwoon’s eyes widened at the detail of the work. Minah’s placid face gazed back at him, features a little younger, her cheeks flushed yet less rounded, hair down her shoulders adorned in flowers, her lips parted just slightly into a smile which reached her eyes. Her blue robes dipped down her neck on which rested a single pearl. The portrait was bewitching. His reverie was broken when he heard her soft laughter and he spun around to see Minah’s pleased smile as she looked at the oil of canvas.

“Of course.” she smiled as the messenger bowed, approaching Taekwoon with the letter in hand and a box in the other.

“His majesty has penned this for your highness.” he bowed, offering the sealed paper to Taekwoon who accepted it hesitantly. He was aware following his brief meetings with Cha Hakyeon that the king of the West indulged in poetry and the arts. In fact he was a known patron for some of the best artists in the five kingdoms. It wasn’t something he was particularly used to, but nonetheless, he accepted the letter. He could feel Minseok’s gaze on him, shifting from the portrait to Minah to him.

How the king of the West had successfully commissioned a portrait of someone he didn’t know was highly suspect. But it was possible that the portrait was created by someone who had previously met Minah, Cha Hakyeon was known to be well-connected amongst the artists.

The box clicked open in the messenger’s hand displaying a miniature portrait of Taekwoon. The detailed work that had gone into its creation was apparent. Taekwoon’s eyes fixed themselves on the image.

“Please show it to the lady,” he spoke softly as the messenger nodded walking towards Minah with the box in hand. The letter could be read later, he mused, sliding it towards Minseok who dutifully held on to it. Clearly this was not abnormal for Cha Hakyeon to gift married couples portraits of themselves.

“Shift the portrait to the lady’s chambers.” Taemin ordered as Taekwoon stared at it leaving his line of sight.

Cracking the seal of the letter open Taekwoon looked at the elegant hand that slanted over the sheet of paper. The contents puzzled him as his eyes went over the script over and over. Cha Hakyeon was clearly a mad-man and Taekwoon was certain this was due to the falling out with the High King. With little to no resources left, Hakyeon was a suspicious man, charming for certain, but suspicious of everything that happened around him. But this, this was the ravings of a mad man. Taekwoon stared at the paper again.

Greetings Jung Taekwoon, King of the East,

I write to convey my best wishes on your engagement to the brave and honourable Kim Minah. This poem I have penned in honour of your marriage.

Speak with love to the universe

And it will set you free

Beneath the surface lay dark roots

Universes lie in eyes

Tongues that speak poison

Are cured by casting out weeds

Dark roots illuminate

And grow

Into trees

Under careful eyes

That hold the universe

Speak with love to the universe

And it will set you free

May this serve as good advice to you. May your joining together bring you and your people more joy than you can imagine.

The letter was stamped off with the royal seal of the West and Taekwoon couldn’t help but find the poem sounding more ominous than as a congratulatory note. But he pushed the thought aside, this may have been a bout of madness setting in on Hakyeon, his suspicious tendencies getting to the best of him.

Folding the letter, he frowned, dropping it back on the table.

What was Cha Hakyeon trying to point out?

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