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kokonoiis · 4 months ago

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─── I SAID LOOK AT ME, GIRL INITIATION bonten x fem! reader ( 18+ MDNI ) 21.3k words you condemned three men to death tonight, or something worse than death, and there was nothing you could do about it but keep moving forward, digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you could no longer see the sun. but you kept reaching up anyway, ever hopeful that you’d feel the warmth on your skin one day.

that day wasn't going to be today. how lucky for you, you've been promoted.

YOU CAN FOLLOW SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS, RIGHT ? ─── active characters ﾉ hajime kokonoi, haruchiyo sanzu, ran haitani, rindou haitani, takeomi akashi mentions of ﾉ mikey sano, kakucho, kanji mochizuki

WHOEVER BETRAYS BONTEN WILL EVENTUALLY BECOME SCRAPS, TOO tags ﾉ dubious consent , degradation , praise , gangbang , power imbalance , pain play , exhibitionism , voyeurism , groping , mention of drug usage ( sanzu ), mentions of alcohol ( takeomi & rindou ), sadism , masochism , dacryphilia , size difference , violent sex , oral ( m. receiving ) spit kink , asphyxiation , fear play , face fucking , mind break , coercion almost , free use , violent language , unprotected sex , handjobs , misogyny ( takeomi ) , slutshaming ( takeomi, again ), bukkake , insults , mean characters , throat bulge , breath play , borderline unconsciousness , hair pulling , suspension , overstimulation , mentions of a breeding kink , multiple orgasms , mentions of a collar , dry humping just a little , humiliation , control , spitroasting , nipple play , canon typical violence , mentions of death several times , gang antics with bonten , and more..!

You were good at listening to orders. one of the best, in fact. It was more than just rare for you to mess up a direct order given to you by one of the executives above you, and that made you the perfect pawn. You could be molded into anything they needed at the time, the perfect canvas for crimson red handprints to cover your body.

Innocent wasn't exactly the word, it was more like naive, and belligerently hopeful, even when you faced the worst. It was like you couldn't really see the world around you, not completely anyways.

" Sir, " you took in a deep, shaky breath, holding the manila folder in your hand as you walked into Hajime Kokonoi’s office, knowing you'd delivered exactly what you had been told. Even if it came at the cost of other people's lives. " I have the names. "

" Good, good, " Kokonoi didn't even bother to look up from his desk, his throwaway laptop open with the screen away from you, making it impossible for you to see what he was working on, but you thought that it was better the less you knew about what he did for work considering what he had you doing for work. " How many ? "

" Three, " you announced, sitting the manila folder down. For such a simple interaction right now, this had taken more restless nights and more dangerous situations than you really wanted to let yourself think about. It almost felt like it was downplaying and trivializing your efforts. To be fair, it was.

Sniffing out traitors wasn't an easy job – whether it was checking money wires, phone calls, tailing people, reaching out through connections and plenty of ' friends of a friend ‘ – getting these three names had taken about three weeks of your life that you weren't going to get back.

You felt blessed by some god that you knew wasn't looking that you didn't have to pull out the gun you kept on you nearly at all times, although you had needed to talk your way out of a situation that could've ended in bloodshed more than once.

" The names ? "

" ..Shinatsuro Kamo, Mikane Shuichi, Chihara Fumihiko. Two of them are in your shell IT company, different branches though. One of them worked as a bartender in the Haitani brothers’ strip club, " you explained in a soft voice, crossing your arms, trying to show that you were just as serious about this as he was. You'd figured out a long time ago that showing pain was nothing more than a big red target on your back, and you had enough eyes watching you for now. " All three of them were connected to the same mole. From what I know, they don't know about each other, at least not their identities, although they may be aware that there are other rats. "

" Did they even try to cover their tracks ? tch. " Gently closing his laptop, Kokonoi grabbed the manila folder, looking through the files you'd put in there.

Birth certificates, addresses, current pictures of their identity cards, check stubs. You had it all there. None of that was easy to get a hold of, especially not when each of them had more than one different name they went by. But you tailed their trails until you got to their birth names, and had it all down. You even had pictures of one of them from middle school with the worst haircut you’ve ever seen on a kid.

" You did good. its thorough work for only three weeks with only a vague notion of where to go. "

" Yeah. You'd think next time I might get a bit of hint, " you joked softly, and you swore you heard Kokonoi chuckle a little bit, his hand reaching over and tucking his straight white hair behind his ear as he read through the files, sorting things out on his desk. " Going through the entire list of Bonten's higher ups wasn't easy. "

" The entire list ? "

" Mostly. I knew better than to look into the executives, but I had to check anyone below your status, " you backtracked to answer his question quickly, knowing damn well that if you ever looked into the executives above you, you were as good as dead. The cops would never find your corpse and no one would remember your name.

Being wiped off of the face of the planet wasn't exactly in the plans of a good night for you, not after all of that work. It had been the worst mission you'd been sent on yet, but you completed it hopefully with flying colors.

" That's good, " Kokonoi sat out the three I.D card copies, examining each one of them. He didn’t outright deny your thought process, but you knew that he didn’t need to. There were some open secrets in Bonten that everyone knew without needing to talk about them. " So these are the men ? And you're sure of that ? "

" If you don't trust me, trust the trails they left behind. "

" We'll have to double check your work, " he pointed out, although with each file that he pulled out, he seemed more and more convinced that you were right in your deductions, which is what you were hoping too. You knew that there was a chance something didn’t add up, that you could be wrong, even with all of the hard work that you put in to get this information. It was small, but this was life and death. " Can't just send men to die without a checks and balances system, right ? "

" Who's going to be checking my work ? " you tried your best not to think about the fates of the men that you were damning, but failing miserably. You hoped that it show on your face.

" Sanzu. "

" So they're dead. " There was no way that Sanzu was going to go the silent path of making sure that all of the trails led up properly. No, he was going to get the answers out of them with chains and saws and pliers. Whether they were guilty or not, they were as good as dead. Death might be a mercy for them if they’re stuck with Sanzu.

Hopefully, you thought, they would give up quickly and spill everything out before Sanzu really got to having fun. Once that happened, who knows how long he would play with them until Mikey gave his orders to finally end their lives. Could be hours, could be days. You hoped that they weren’t as dumb as they seemed. If they can’t cover themselves up properly, at least they could give up easily.

" Well, " Kokonoi put all of the files away back into the manila folder, closing it and sitting it to the side of his otherwise pristine desk. His voice almost sounded light, like he was laughing about it, although his face was still mostly neutral. Kokonoi was hard to read – it wasn't like he was crazy like Sanzu, or quiet like Mikey and Kakucho. No, he was witty and sarcastic, but he was so in the way that it wasn't really actually funny, just dark. Just actually depressing. He told the truth and covered it up with a smile. " You never know, maybe he's feeling merciful. Either way, you'll be there when Mikey decides what to do with them. "

" Ah, thank you, Sir. what an honor, " you couldn't stop yourself from sounding a little bitter about it, knowing that you would witness the culmination of your hard work and honestly, you didn't really want to. Listening to three men that you brought down to Sanzu's favorite warehouse cry and scream out in pain wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, but a direct order was a direct order, and you weren't about to mess up just because you didn't want to. There was plenty of things that you've done that you can't exactly say that you're proud of, and you just thought you were going to add this one to the list.

" We'll see to it that you're there. It'll be your first time in the warehouse, right ? " Kokonoi asked, although he already knew the answer, " I believe it's time to talk to Mikey about making it official. "

" It ? "

" Your work here, I mean. "

" I've done a lot of unpaid labor if this is just the internship, " you mumbled underneath your breath, earning a curious quirk of Kokonoi's eyebrow, but he didn't say anything about your attitude. He was one of the few executives you could talk to like a normal person and he wouldn't paint the walls with your brains.

" You're sort of more like a secretary right now, " Kokonoi clarified, steepling his fingers together and sitting his chin on them, a strand of his hair that he had just pushed back already falling into his eyes as he looked up at you, his sharp eyes taking in your appearance as if he were dissecting you piece by piece, and maybe he's thought about it before. You could never be sure with the Bonten executives just how deep their contempt for humanity ran. " Granted, the papers you bring me aren't exactly just the weekly wealth management reports, but more.. unique to your position, I should say. "

" Despite the others' strengths, there's only one within the executives that's particularly good at sniffing out rats, " Kokonoi continued after your silence, " So it only makes sense that you worked directly underneath me during your time here, given what you do. But to continue your job in a more effective manner, you should be.. promoted, in a sense. Instead of me being the middleman, giving you orders from Mikey, you should get them directly from him instead. Cut out the middleman and there's less room for error. There's no way any information can get lost in translation and cause errors to occur. "

What a professional and roundabout way to say that now, if you fucked up, it would be on your head, and he didn't want to risk having his name attached to your line of work. " I see. so you're wanting to ' promote ' me to executive directly underneath Mikey, instead of working just for you. "

" Precisely. I knew you were smart, " he smiled, eyes narrowing as he watched you shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling a little awkward underneath his gaze. " I still need to suggest it to Mikey, but I'm sure there's going to be little pushback. He's seen the work you've done before this. Everything goes back to him, after all. "

Mikey has eyes and ears everywhere, that much you knew. You, very much so, were considered one of them. Not only did you look out for others within your ' position ' you also were watched by them. You were just particularly good at your job, it seems. What a lucky soul you were, living this life.

" Yes, Sir. "

" Wonderful. Then you're dismissed until a later notice, secretary, " he straightened up, the term slipping from his lips more like an insult than anything else, finally glancing back down at his laptop in front of him, opening it up to continue what he was doing before you came in. " You'll hear word from someone about what's going to happen and when. Be there, although I have no doubt that you won't. "

" Yes, Sir. " You repeated once again, and turned on your heels, your footsteps echoing as you headed towards the door, trying to hold your head high and keep your posture as straight as possible. If there was one thing you were good at other than executing orders given to you, it was keeping up appearances.

" Oh, and one more thing before you go. There's a lady acting up from one of the Haitani brother's clubs, could you check up on her for me ? I believe she's been starting some unfortunate whispers about your connections to me, and I'd like to have that squashed as quick as possible. "

Ah, she thought the two of you were fucking. It was understandable, everyone within a certain ranking knew who you answered to, and who you spent most of your time around, and that included the managers of the Haitani brother's clubs, who often had to answer to Kokonoi for their revenues. You were sure that one had seen you come in or out of Kokonoi's office and tried to connect the dots.

In fact, you were almost sure you knew exactly who it was: the man who tried to hit on you and you shot him down relatively quickly. You'd been tired that day and didn't even want to entertain the thought of men, especially not one as sleazy as he was, so you may have sounded a little ruder than you anticipated.

Perhaps he took your denial and then saw you come out of Kokonoi's office and tried to connect the dots to make his ego feel better. What was his name ? Atsuku Tsukima, you were fairly sure. You had most people who were in higher positions in Bonten memorized already, it just sort of came with the job after combing through their names for hours on end. You'd have to pay him a little visit, and check up on that girl of his.

You also figured you might have to check up and ask why he was telling some random girls at his club about the business of people that he has no right to stick his nose in, too.

" Yes, Sir. “ You answered him one last time, your hand on the door handle as you turned your head to throw him one more look, finger already holding down the lock so you could push it open. “ I’ll return in a few hours with an update for you. I don’t think she’ll be saying much more about it anymore after tonight. “

“ I don’t believe so, either. “

Looks like you could sit down your hopes of getting an early day tonight. Of course you had to run around for one more errand before you could really call your day complete, just to get up and do it all over again tomorrow.

Once you walked through the door, you could feel it all coming back to you at once, like a rush of all of the emotions you’d suppressed to the best of your ability. The fear, the sickness in the pit of your stomach, the regret.

You condemned three men to death tonight, or something worse than death, and there was nothing you could do about it but keep moving forward, digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you could no longer see the sun. But you kept reaching up anyway, ever hopeful that you’d feel the warmth on your skin one day.

That day wasn’t going to be today.

Just barely three days after you delivered your report to Kokonoi, you were told the date and the time that you were expected to be in the warehouse with the presence of the other executives, and the leader of the whole organization. You knew that this day was coming, but you honestly could say that you were kind of hoping that Sanzu struggled to find them for a little while longer, if only to put off your own discomfort. But of course, you hadn’t let anyone find out that you were snooping around to the traitors, so the three men had no idea what was happening and probably continued with business as usual.

You’d known about the warehouse, and even knew the general location and its main use before you’d even been there for the first time. It was just an old storage facility for a car manufacturer that Kokonoi had a hand in. Technically, the warehouse was Kokonoi’s property, but Sanzu spent more than his fair share of time within the uninsulated metal walls.

You’d only met Sanzu once, and that was a very short time when you were delivering something to Kokonoi and Sanzu just happened to want to chat with him at the same time.

Even then, you understood early on not to fuck with that man. He was unhinged, with more screws loose than anyone else within Bonten that you knew. Looking at him in the wrong way could potentially mean that you were liable to get your neck snapped in half like a twig, if he was feeling generous that day.

A few of the Bonten executives you’d never met before were there, as well as Mikey, the leader of it all. You knew of him, heard stories about the kind of person he was through the grapevine, although you could never tell if they were the truth or fiction, even saw his face a couple of times. You’d heard about the man who was once called the Invincible Mikey, who was now a shell of a man and apathetic towards anyone and everyone.

But you’d never been face to face with him before, and you never really could say that you really wanted to, either. You were perfectly okay with being unnoticed by all of these people that you knew you’d soon be meeting. Or at least, you weren’t important enough to be a name that they saw more than once or twice, with the exception of Kokonoi.

If someone became important enough that several of them were looking into your name, you usually didn’t live long after that. Usually, that means you did something very, very wrong.

The warehouse was a sweaty cold the moment that you walked inside of it. A large open space, with plenty of crates and carts and parts strewn around. Things underneath tarps that you were smart enough not to look at too closely, especially if something brownish red was leaking out from underneath. It wasn’t insulated, and didn’t have any air conditioning, either, making it just uncomfortable to be in for longer than needed. You felt your fingers and the tip of your nose getting cold, and the bones inside of you rattled a little as you took in a shaky breath.

Walking forward through the surprisingly well lit yet dusty atmosphere, your footsteps echoed against each wall, sounding a thousand times louder than you were actually walking. There was no way that anyone wasn’t aware of your presence by now, not that you were really hiding your presence to begin with. You weren’t brave enough to try to sneak up on anyone here. Towards the back, you only halfway knew what to expect. You could already smell it when you came in.

The three men you personally condemned were there, dirty, bloody rags tied in their mouths, their arms tied behind their backs with duct tape wrapped around their bodies. Each man was crying hysterically; one, you were sure, even pissed himself. You could smell the stench of urine before you even got a good view of what was going on. There was a cart next to the men with a saw on it, some pliers, unidentifiable chunks of meat that you really didn’t want to look at for too long, knives, scissors, a lighter, and some matches.

Sanzu was definitely having his fun, and you had the realization that they’d probably been caught the moment you left Kokonoi’s office. You wouldn’t be surprised if forwarding the information to him was the first thing that Kokonoi did after you left. Which probably meant that these men have been in here for days.

The executives each stood around, some of them looking bored, and others looking on with interest, less about the men being tortured and more about what was actually happening to them. Sanzu stood above them with a gun in his hand, his second favorite choice of weapon, although you were almost positive that he didn’t necessarily care what was in his hands as long as he was able to cause mayhem.

“ Ah, welcome, “ Kokonoi was the first one to greet you, his hands in his long red shirt’s pockets. You really never realized just how detailed the gold embroidery in his outfit was until you look at it glittering in even the mustiest of areas. Compared to everyone else, Kokonoi stood out the most to you, but that was also perhaps because you knew him the longest and you were the most comfortable around him than anyone else.

You found yourself gravitating towards Kokonoi before you really even told your feet where to go. With everything going on around you, Kokonoi was the safest option. You held your hands behind your back, one of your hands holding onto your wrist, tilting your head as you looked up at Kokonoi. “ You haven’t been waiting long, I hope ? “

“ Not long at all, I believe you’re early, actually, “ he mused, not really caring enough to check the time on his watch. “ I thought you would arrive by the time Sanzu finished off the traitors, but Mikey hasn’t given his order yet. Maybe he was waiting for you. “

“ Maybe, “ you agreed easily, nodding slightly as you took a look around. The Haitani brothers were sitting on some metal cargo crates, with the younger brother, Rindou, looking a little bored, a small pout on his lips as he watched Sanzu move around the three sniveling traitors.

To the side, was a man you didn’t know with a scar across his face, but you knew he was important. He looked like he would be hard to approach, and he wasn’t even watching Sanzu, his eyes were just on the floor, looking down at his own feet perhaps. He didn’t look bored, just indifferent to it all, like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

Close behind Kokonoi was a tall, huge blond man, his expression unreadable. It looked like he hadn’t even taken notice of your presence, or that he was looking past you. He didn’t really look like he was watching Sanzu, either. He looked lost in his own world, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Towards the back, there was a short man sitting down munching on some takoyaki, not even facing the rest of them, and a man close by him with a jacket on but no shirt staring at the exit as if he were already ready to go.

The three men tied to the ground were writhing around in their pity, trying desperately to free themselves from the situation, fighting against the duct tape hopelessly. Seems one of them had a missing eye, and the other’s leg was busted completely.

Sanzu laughed, leaning back almost morbidly and dropping a pill from his hand into his waiting, open mouth. Swallowing it, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “ Bring down bonten’s hammer of judgment on the traitors ! “ You thought it was an odd thing to say, but you weren’t going to say that out loud or you definitely would be next.

Sanzu leaned down to the ear of one of them, his finger pressed up against his pursed lips, “ Shh, shh, shh ! Pay attention to Mikey’s words ! “ He looked over his shoulder, his piercing gaze going right through you as he waited for the command of the man eating the takoyaki.

“ Kill them. “ Mikey’s empty voice was so soft you barely heard it, but it was still audible, if only barely. And that’s all that Sanzu needed.

You closed your eyes for the next few seconds, wanting to turn to hide, but unable to do that. The three gunshots rang out so loud it buzzed in your head as if you were the one who got shot. It sure did feel like you had, anyways, with the way that your heart lurched in your chest. The stench of blood permeated throughout the area, sinking into your nostrils, choking you with the scent of metal.

“ Those who don’t fit in Bonten are scraps..! “ This time, you could feel his gaze on you before you even opened up your eyes, tearing you apart. He was directly talking to you, the newcomer within the executives, that much you didn’t need to be a genius to figure out.

You sucked in a breath, feeling your hands shake behind your back, but you refused to mentally acknowledge that you were scared. If you did, there was a chance the persona you’d seemingly perfectly crafted could unravel at any time, and you were sure that wouldn’t end well for you. No, it was better if you pretended you were unaffected by everything, at least for now. You just had to hold out.

“ Make sure to clean up the dead bodies, “ the man with the scar on his face called, the look on his face best described as apathy. He didn’t look like he cared, nor that he really felt any type of way at all. There was no emotion behind those heterochromatic eyes, just tiredness. Exhaustion that went bone deep. You sort of knew how he felt, but it was still unsettling to look at in front of you.

“ Crush and freeze them. Turn them into fish bait, “ the blond man behind Kokonoi suggested, earning a small chuckle from the older Haitani brother.

You knew about Ran and Rindou, who had killed when they were children and it just went downhill from there. They’d been on the path of bloodshed since they were kids, but their story wasn’t particularly unique.

Kokonoi was on the same path since he was young, too, who you’d heard bits and pieces about during your time working underneath him. He’d been a financial treasurer since he was a child, always controlling the puppets around him to do the dirty work for him. If he could help it, Kokonoi never had to lift a finger, he just had to hold out his hand for the profits and keep his finger on the pulses of the most income, no matter what was bringing that money in.

“ Keep it in your heads, everyone, “ Kokonoi gave you a little smile, his voice holding a hint of a dry, dark joke in there, “ Even between us, whoever betrays Bonten will eventually become scraps too. “ He leaned in close, until his nose was inches away from yours. “ That’s how Bonten works. “

You didn’t think you needed the reminder, but the words chilled you to your core anyways, as if you were learning for the first time what kind of organization you worked for.

You kept your head straight ahead, looking at him in the eyes, but you couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing hard, letting out a small shaky exhale through your nose, giving him all that he needed to know about how you were feeling right now.

“ We have her to thank for bringing these traitors to light, right ? “ Ran asked behind you, not moving from his spot as he examined the way your hands shook behind your back, and you were glad he didn’t mention it. “ If she’s here, then that means.. oh, it wouldn’t happen to be her initiation, right ? “ He said it like he didn’t know, but you were sure that they had all been briefed beforehand about your arrival.

“ I swear, it’s like Sanzu gets to have all of the fun, “ Rindou shook his head, sounding a little annoyed that he had no part of the action yet. “ Where’s her tattoo going to be ? Has Mikey decided it yet, or is someone else choosing for her this time ? “

“ Mikey said that it needs to be on her chest so it stays hidden when she’s out and about, “ Kokonoi answered simply for you, finally moving away from your face to look at the Haitani brothers. “ It’s important that her tattoo isn’t easily spotted, so it has to go in a spot that most people would cover up. “

Finally interested in what was being talked about, Rindou’s eyes widened, and he almost looked excited, his eyes going wide with a goofy grin on his face, “ No way ! We’re putting the tattoo in between her tits ? “

“ That’s what the boss said. “

While you were occupied with listening to the conversation, Sanzu was moving along behind you, tucking the gun into the belt of his pinstripe pants. You could hear him moving about with the way that each of his steps echoed throughout the warehouse, but you didn’t dare to look back at him. Not yet, at least, unless you found yourself looking at something that maybe you didn’t want to see.

“ Hey, Mochizuki, come help me with these goddamn bodies ! “ Sanzu yelled out, his voice strangely cheerful as if he were saying something completely normal. “ Since it was your genius idea to freeze them, you should be the one to pack them up into the cart so I can take them somewhere they’d freeze later. “

You thought it was just the way his voice carried that made him seem like he was closer than he actually was, but a hand smacked down on your shoulder, quickly jerking you back to look up at Sanzu. “ Can’t have the stupid little secretary getting sick while we tattoo her, yeah ? ..Is secretary the right word for you, or does snoop work better for you ? Since all you do is find people and bring them to me for me and Mikey to judge. Ah, I can’t tell which one works better. Maybe they both fit you. “

You kept quiet, letting him ramble on about what mildly insulting title fit you best, but you could feel the color drain from your face as you were brought face to face with this killer. Sanzu was insane. There wasn’t a single part of him that could ever even remotely be considered normal by any standards. He’d lost all of his marbles so long ago that you weren’t sure if he even remembered a time that he had a coherent thought that wasn’t about his next fix of murder or drugs. Not that you could ever in your life voice these opinions out to him, unless you wanted to end up as fish bait.

“ I’m going to be doing your tattoo today, it’s a pleasure, “ Sanzu grinned lazily right in your face. His pupils were dilated, and he looked a little unsteady, but he kept himself relatively straight, rolling his neck and tilting his head as he got a better look at your face. His neck popped several times with a sickening crunch, and you wondered briefly if it had to hurt, or if he could even feel it. “ This is yours, Kokonoi ? “

“ Yeah. She worked underneath me. “

“ Underneath you ? “

“ ..Yeah. “

“ Hm. Ooookay, “ Sanzu didn’t say anything else, pulling himself away from you and turning right on his heels to help Mochizuki, the man with the blond hair, so you’d learned, with moving the bodies into a crate for later use. You looked up at Kokonoi, trying to keep your face neutral and honestly failing pretty badly at this point.

You were terrified not only of Sanzu, but also about everything that was going on around you. This was more than you were expecting, and possibly even worse than anything you could’ve imagined so far. You weren’t sure if it was the cold or the absolute terror in your body that made your limbs feel like they were going numb. You couldn’t think, using the last of your resilience to stand up straight and not break down where you stood.

“ I think that means he likes you, “ Kokonoi mentioned casually, either unaware of your feelings or simply uncaring about them. you didn’t know which, but it was better you didn’t ask.

“ Maybe he’s trying to see how long it takes for you to snap ! “ Ran called out, laughing a little at his own words, and earning himself a chuckle from his younger brother. You were sure you really didn’t need to hear that. Maybe Ran was the one who wanted you to snap, maybe they all were waiting for the moment where you just gave up, but you weren’t going to do that. You just had to get through this tattoo and then you were going to get the hell out of there.

You’d worry about the next executive meeting when it came down to it. But all of this in one night was far too much for you. You brought those men to this warehouse in the first place. Although you weren’t the one who pulled the trigger, you were the one who put the red target on the back of their heads anyways. Their murders were on your hands as much as they were on Sanzu’s. You’d think after all of this time within Bonten, you’d have your head on straight and would become numb to the feeling of blood slipping through your fingers.

You did not.

“ She doesn’t really look like a killer to me, “ Kakucho shook his head, barely giving you a glance before he passed on his judgment to you. “ She’s better as an informant than with the actual gun, but having her in the executive ranks was up to Mikey. He has a better idea on what’s best for Bonten than anyone else. “

“ I think she could kill ! If she was pushed far enough ! We could push her and see what happens, “ Rindou chimed in with a little nod, pretty proud of himself for his observation of you.

You had to think for a second, your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you thought about it. Could you kill ? Could you pull the trigger on someone else’s life and cut it short ? You didn’t know. Sure, you’d hurt people before, and maybe those injuries had left them to die, but you’d never seen the lights fade from someone else’s eyes. You weren’t sure you wanted to, either.

You were learning pretty quickly that there was a lot of things that you didn’t know, and a lot of things that you didn’t want to know.

You did know, however, that all of the men within the warehouse was staring at you, judging you, picking you apart and trying to see what made you tick inside. Trying to see everything about you, the good, the bad, the wrong, the ugly. Even without their eyes directly on you, you knew you were being watched. That you were always tabbed no matter what you did or where you went.

And these men were not the type of people to take notes and then go find someone else to deal with any potentially incorrect behavior, they were the reprimanders. They were the ones who ended the lives of plenty of people every single day. Innocents, bystanders. Anyone. Everyone. No one was safe from Bonten’s grip.

And you so naively had walked right into their hands.

They would take your wings and rip them off of your body so you could never fly again, so you would be stuck in the pits of hell just like they were. Even sicker, is that they knew you would come to enjoy it after a time. a caught animal never outgrows its cage, after all. You were nothing more than an animal for them, a pet. And you were about to get permanently branded as one, too.

The realization hit you harder than you cared to admit.

“ Come on ! Sit, sit ! Don’t waste more of my night here ! “ you hadn’t realized that Sanzu was back now without Mochizuki, and he had grabbed a metal folding chair, slapping it down a few feet in front of you.

He tapped the back of it a few times, letting you know that he was getting impatient with you just standing there and staring at him, although it’s only been a few seconds now. You swallowed hard, moving over to take a seat on the chair, feeling the cold of the metal even through the fabric of the pants you were wearing.

Now that you were sat, the world within this warehouse felt a lot larger than you’d previously thought. You could see how high the ceiling was, and could feel how absolutely suffocating the freezing air around you truly was. You couldn’t breathe in deeply without the lingering scent of blood and the overwhelming scent of something molding and rotting. Every breath you took stung your lungs, the cold having seeped into your skin and reaching the marrow of your bones.

“ Gotta find my tattoo gun and get everything ready. you sit there and look pretty, “ Sanzu sneered out, hand clapping on your shoulder once before turning around to do exactly what he said he was going to do. You knew that this was likely not exactly the safest way to get a tattoo, nor would it be the easiest to deal with.

He was a few feet away when he turned back for a second, his face surprisingly serious when he stared at you. “ Oh, and take off that shirt and bra or I’ll rip the shit off of you when I come back. “

Not a single part of you wanted to take off your shirt, but you found yourself with your fingers nimbly working on the buttons of the white dress shirt you were wearing anyways. Whether it was out of fear or out of habit to follow orders, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t going to think too much about it, either.

The fabric slipped off of your shoulders, and you twisted over to have it cover the back of the chair so you didn’t have to press your back against the cold bare metal.

You took off your bra slower, fumbling with the front clasp before shrugging it off of your arms, letting it drop onto the dirty floor. instinctually, you covered your chest up, wrapping your arms around your tits. But you already knew that your attempt at modesty did nothing. Everyone who was looking already saw.

You couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, your head down, looking at your lap while you waited sort of patiently. There was no way this was going to take longer than twenty minutes, and then you could put your shirt back on and never think about it again.

In between all of the genuine fear and lightheadedness that you felt, you also felt a pit in the bottom of your stomach form, tightly coiled but barely noticeable or distinguishable from the other coursing emotions rushing through you. In your haze, you didn’t think about it, didn’t even acknowledge that it was there.

When Sanzu came back, he had a tattoo gun in his hands, and a cart that you really hoped wasn’t the cart that he just had his torture weapons sat on, and that pile of flesh that you really tried to erase from your memories. “ Hold your tits and keep them spread for me. I can’t work if my canvas is covered. “

You nodded, sliding your arms apart and grabbing your own chest, keeping the skin taut so he could work properly.

Originally, he was just leaning over you, his posture awkward and probably uncomfortable for him, if he could feel his own body, but he decided that he wasn’t close enough, so his free hand that wasn’t holding the gun grabbed your leg and forced your thighs apart, stepping in between them so he was closer to you.

It only took him a moment before he came up with another order, clearly still unhappy with the way that you were sat on the chair for him. “ Scooch your ass nearly off the edge of the chair. You’re sitting too straight. “

Before he gave you a chance to answer or follow through with his demands, Sanzu grabbed your hips, pulling you forward until your butt was nearly hanging off the chair, and you needed to plant your feet firmly into the floor to keep yourself from falling. Your eyes widened, trying not to make any noises from the way that he had grabbed you in such a way, completely manhandling you as if you were just a doll for him that he could throw around and pose how he wanted.

“ S-Sir- ! “ You yelped, desperation hinting within your tone.

Once he was happy with your position, completely ignoring your little yelp, he started to clean the area, the alcohol freezing cold as it hit your skin. It wasn’t until the tattoo gun turned on, and he dipped the needles into the ink that you realized that there really was no backing out of this now, not that there ever was.

Your grip on your own chest tightened, nails digging into the skin as Sanzu leaned a little closer. As he got nearer, he shuffled propping his knee up on the edge of the chair, right in between your legs, pressing against the sensitive flesh of your most intimate area. You wanted to gasp, but the sound caught in your throat.

You didn’t have time to say or do anything as he finally touched the gun to your skin. No one really could’ve prepared you for what it felt like when Sanzu made the first mark on your skin. The needle was so close to the bone of your sternum, it felt like a painful vibration that shook your entire diaphragm, stealing your breath away. You closed your eyes tightly, breathing through your nose, nails digging into your chest so hard you swore you were going to break the skin.

Oh, god, it hurt. It hurt so much worse than you were anticipating.

Everything about this was wrong. You couldn’t stop yourself from tearing up, your entire body shaking from the tattoo gun needle going in and out of your skin. It didn’t feel like a million tiny little stabs like you had expected it to feel, more like the constant drag of a serrated blade against your skin, tearing at your flesh and forcing you to watch as it inked you just below the surface level.

But the pain wasn’t really the worst part of it, it was just the catalyst for what set off every single one of your fear reactions after being on edge this entire time. You knew you were being watched, that every man had his eyes on you and were watching with rapt attention.

It was something about being watched that pricked at your skin, making you feel everything far more intensely than you thought you would, like their eyes on you was some kind of aphrodisiac.

You weren’t sure when anyone moved from the places that they were at previously, but now there were important, dangerous men circled all around you, watching as you were positively defiled by Sanzu and the tattoo gun. They were like vultures watching their next meal, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

You felt pathetic, and watched, and used. And it didn’t help that in between your legs, you could feel just enough friction that it made your already tense body clench up even further, his knee pressed against you as he focused on getting the lines perfect. You were trying to find something, anything to focus on that wasn’t how you felt in this very moment.

“ You’re playing with the big boys now, little lady, “ Rindou hummed behind you, his voice almost melodic as his hand found it’s way to your shoulder, giving you a grin that you didn’t look at.

“ Look at her shake like a leaf ! “ Ran snickered as he leaned down, his eyes narrowed while he looked at you. You could feel his breath hot on your neck, but it took everything out of you to wrench open one eye to see what was going on around you.

Your eyes immediately met the older Haitani brother’s gaze, and you felt your heart leap out of your throat. Why was he so close ? Why was he looking at you like that ? You could feel the fat of your thigh bounce a little as you shook underneath their gazes.

" Can this bitch stop fuckin' squirmin' ? " You could hear Sanzu's voice cut through your thoughts and the sound of the tattoo gun whirling that made your head spin a little bit.

You felt small and insignificant, around all of these important men, shirtless and sat in a dirty old metal chair in the warehouse where a few men lost their lives because of you today. Your hand was covering your chest, keeping the skin taunt for Sanzu as he hovered over you in between your spread legs, one of his hands coming down to rest on your hip, knee pressed against you lewdly.

Rindou chuckled, keeping his hand on your bare shoulder, feeling each jump of your muscles with every drag of the tattoo gun on your skin. “ Maybe not, but she sure is cute, don’t you think, Koko ? “

“ Mhm, “ Kokonoi was staring at you, you could feel his eyes examining your face scrunched up in pain as you tried and failed to keep your breathing steady, his features unreadable other than a small little smile on his lips. “ That’s my secretary for you. “

“ She’s fuckin’ adorable. Better like this than when she’s trying to act like a big shot in a world not built for her, “ this was the first time you’d heard Takeomi’s voice, and you were completely unsure where his voice was coming from, but all of the voices sounded like they were surrounding you, echoing off of the warehouse’s walls and amplifying them tenfold.

You could also hear every pitiful little noise that came from the bottom of your throat no matter how much you tried to keep yourself calm. You were whimpering, your chest threatening hiccups as you fought back tears. It was too much. They were all mocking you like you were just a toy, something weak and easily broken, snapped in half like a twig.

“ No way, is she gonna cry ? “ Ran gasped, his eyes wide as he noticed the tears that were threatening to bubble up in your eyes.

“ She is ! Look at her cry ! “ The embarrassment of the Haitani brothers calling you out for crying was enough for the tears to finally overflow from your waterline, streaming down your face. You leaned your head back, eyes closed tightly as you tried to stop yourself from crying and hiccuping.

You felt like a stupid school girl getting bullied by the older kids on the playground, your body on display for them as Sanzu etched black ink lines into your skin. Your cheeks felt bright red, and you wanted to pull away from Sanzu, and run and hide from them. Maybe if you ran fast enough from this god forsaken warehouse, they would take a few days to catch you.

As if it were a type of sick punishment for all of the sins you committed, Sanzu shifted just a little, knee rubbing against you and making you gasp loud through your messy, fat tears, your noises reverberating on the walls of the warehouse. You couldn’t hide that reaction, not even from yourself.

Fuck, you needed more of that feeling, the pain of the tattoo gun almost dulling for a moment before the pain came back.

" ..She’s crying ? " If you didn't know any better, you'd really think that Kakucho almost sounded worried for you, but no one there had any intention of stopping Sanzu from finishing your tattoo.

This was something that all Bonten executives had to go through, you knew this, almost like an initiation of sorts, and of course you were no exception to this case.

But it didn't help that you were shirtless, and you could feel the eyes of several men staring at your body, taking in the sight before them. A few seemed to be enjoying your pain far, far too much, but you were in no position to say anything to them at this very moment even if you could, not when you could barely get out a sentence without whimpering.

“ Pathetic little bitch can’t even stop crying f’me, “ Sanzu murmured underneath his breath, his hand finding its place back on your hip, holding you still firmly against the chair. “ Stay still for me or I’m gonna fuck up. I’m almost done. shit. “

With each little line he drew on your skin, you really couldn’t think of anything other than the pain, their eyes on you, and the pressure between your legs. The embarrassment, stinging, and friction created the worst amalgamation of sensations throughout your entire body, you didn’t know whether or not to cry out in pain or moan out, or to break down sobbing.

You were thinking that you might honestly do all three at the same time. You needed something that could ground you and bring you down from the headspace that you didn’t really want to be in, and before you really even had a chance to think about it, you opened your mouth to speak.

“ K-Koko..! Pl-please.. ! “ You whimpered, hot tears falling from your eyes as you looked up for him, desperate for something, anything.

“ She’s the cutest ! “ Ran laughed, his hand trailing down your shoulder to your hands that were still holding your breast, squeezing it a little bit. His actions didn’t go unnoticed, but you didn’t have it in you to say anything about how his long, calloused fingers felt pressed against the soft, pillowy flesh of your tit.

“ Shh, shh, “ Kokonoi shuffled around a little bit so he was directly behind you, his hand ghosting over your sensitive little neck, holding your head and tilting your chin back so your head rested on his stomach.

“ You’re okay. Don’t even worry about them, don’t listen to a word they say. You’re doing so good, can you keep your eyes on me, pretty girl ? Look at me, look at me. You can take it, right ? Just a little more. “ He whispered softly, his voice slow and soothing, piercing through the low rumble loud in your ears through the pounding of your eardrums.

You couldn’t really say he was calming you down, more like he was distracting you from the soft, subtle touches of the other executives. Ran’s hand on your chest, Rindou touching right below your chest on the other side, dragging his nail against your sensitive skin, Sanzu holding your hip down onto the chair, Kokonoi’s hand playing with your hair as he hummed little pleasantries in your ear.

They were all touching you, unabashed with the way they got tired of just watching and now wanted to participate in Sanzu’s defilement of you.

“ Pl-please, no- no more, “ you sniffled, looking up at Kokonoi with a pout on your shaky bottom lip. You saw him smile a little, and his grip on your neck tightened just a little bit, squeezing the sides of your neck, stealing what little breath you had.

“ You can do it, pretty girl. You’re getting too worked up, need something to calm you down, yeah ? “

Sanzu shifted again slightly, his eyes trained on the flesh he was almost done marking. His knee rubbed up against you, causing you to gasp out loud, your eyes rolling back a little bit. Kokonoi hand that was on your hair tightened up a little bit, pulling slightly.

“ I said look at me, girl. You can follow simple instructions, can’t you ? “ You winced, barely opening one teary eye to look up at him.

He looked so sickeningly sweet, like the worst drug you could possibly get addicted to. Being surrounded by all of the Bonten executives, each one of them cooing at you in a mocking attempt to comfort you and touching at your body, it was making your already fuzzy head swim with too much to form anything coherent.

It almost felt good, the dull, throbbing sensation flooding through your body in small little bursts with each stroke of the tattoo gun against your skin.

Ran’s fingers began to tweak at your nipple, rolling the hardened bud in between his two fingers, not even caring enough to be gentle. Rindou’s hand soon followed suit, pushing against your nipple in and rubbing small circles, his nail digging in just slight enough that you could feel it. The two of them were so in sync without needing a word, it was almost hypnotizing how good your tits felt in their hands.

Kokonoi’s hand was still tightly around your throat, squeezing enough just to steal the breath from your lungs. He seemed pleased with how limp your body had gone by now, how all three of them could touch you like this and you didn’t try to fight back against them. He wasn’t a sadist like the Haitanis or Sanzu, but he did enjoy watching someone crumble right underneath his fingertips. Especially someone as beautiful and pathetic as you, it made it all the more enjoyable.

“ Maybe she’s finally given up on trying to be a bad girl or whatever and is ready to be a slut like the rest of them, “ Takeomi finally mumbled underneath his breath, standing behind Ran and Kokonoi and watching this all unfold in front of him. He didn’t need to touch you, not when the others were already getting you riled up past your breaking point. He was just watching and waiting for the moment where he’d be able to see the exact moment your brain turned off.

“ There, see ? All done, “ Sanzu said finally, turning off the tattoo gun, sitting it down onto the cart beside him. “ Dumb bitch couldn’t keep still but I still managed to get it straight. “

“ I’m gonna finish you, it's gonna be cold and then painful. Don't be a bitch about it. " Was all that Sanzu said to warn you as he grabbed a wet rag, cleaning off the spilled ink from your chest.

The coldness shocked you, causing you to jump up a little bit but it really wasn’t that bad. Then, completely out of the blue, he squirted the isopropyl alcohol directly onto your chest from the bottle, before wiping it off with some soaked gauze.

You gasped, letting out a truly pathetic little scream with what little breath you had from Kokonoi’s hand around your throat as Sanzu cleaned the area almost too harshly for you. You'd been told that the alcohol hurt a thousand times worse than the actual tattoo itself, but it still managed to completely take your breath away, especially with Sanzu's cruelty.

Kokonoi's hand moved from your neck to your cheek, letting you breathe finally as he gently wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. The act itself was so much more domestic compared to the spinning in your head, almost enough to make you forget about everything around you. You wanted to nuzzle into his hand and cry for even longer, but you stopped yourself from doing that. At least, you thought you did.

“ She’s like a dog trying to get affection from her master, “ Rindou joked softly, earning a little chuckle from his older brother.

“ Maybe she’ll bark if we ask her to nicely. We can teach her how to bark like a mutt, “ Ran agreed, letting go of your tit. Everyone was gradually pulling away from you, at least far enough for you to gather your bearings, though you could still feel their eyes on you.

You tried to push your legs closed, picking your head up from Kokonoi’s stomach, wanting to pick your bra up off of the floor, to regain some semblance of the dignity you had before you walked in here, wiping the tears with the back of your hands. But Sanzu stepped quickly in between your legs again, his eyes glaring down as his knee found a familiar spot in between your legs to keep you from closing your thighs together easily.

“ Mm, bad dog. Keep ‘em spread. I have to show Koko something once I’m done cleaning you up, “ Sanzu rolled his eyes, grabbing a bandage to slap on your tattoo now that he had cleaned it up. He threw it on your chest over the tattoo, fingers surprisingly gentle despite his words.

You knitted your eyebrows together, and Kokonoi shifted around so he could get a good look at what Sanzu was talking about.

“ You needed me ? “

“ Look. “

Kokonoi’s eyes locked onto your body for a second, looking from your face to the bandaged tattoo, down the your navel. You felt a little shy underneath his gaze, which was odd considering you’ve been half naked in front of him this entire time, looking away from him and sitting your cheek onto your shoulder, physically curling inward on yourself.

After a moment, you saw his eyes wide as he noticed something, his gaze locked onto the crotch of your pants where Sanzu’s knee had been pressed against you. “ ..There’s really not a thought going on inside of that dumb little head, huh ? “ He asked, glancing up at Sanzu and then back down at your body. “ Feeling like that at a time like this.. Maybe you’re more fucked up than I initially gave you credit for. “

Rindou’s attention had been piqued by that, wondering what could have possibly happened, although he had a good idea by now, and he followed Kokonoi’s gaze to the seat of your pants, his face contorting into excitement as he turned to his brother, a cheeky grin on his face. “ She really got off on us watching her cry ! Look at her, she’s so fuckin’ soaked ! “

Your eyes widened, and your hand immediately flew down to hide the crotch of your pants, your face turning into a million shades of red within the moment. “ I-I– wait..! Hold on ! I– “ you stuttered out, trying to find some good excuse, but everyone there knew there really wasn’t one that you could give that could possibly explain such a strong reaction if it was just Sanzu’s knee pressed against you.

Sanzu couldn’t stop himself, or rather made no attempt to stop himself, as one of his hands came up to rest on your shoulder, knee rubbing up against you through the thick fabric of your slacks. It was almost pathetic how quickly your little denials about what was going on turned into squeals of pleasure, head leaning back to look up at the ceiling of the warehouse as Sanzu tested how sensitive you really are.

“ She really is cute, “ Ran said finally, grinning as he reached for your tits again, this time he wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it, and you seemed more than willing to let him cup your tits with both hands as he stood behind you, rubbing and playing with them. “ Maybe we really should teach her how to bark, she’d make really cute sounds. “ He made it sound like he was just joking when he suggested it beforehand, but you weren’t entirely convinced that was the truth now.

You wanted to protest, to tell them to get their hands off of you and let you get dressed so you could go, but the words died in your throat somewhere along the way, leaving just little helpless whimpers and breathy mumbles of some sound that might’ve been ‘ please ‘.

Rindou was quick to take Kokonoi’s previous spot behind you, letting your head rest on his stomach with his hands in your hair. He peered down at you, shooting you an evil grin that really only told you that you were in some serious trouble with the Haitanis and Sanzu touching you like this.

Without him even really needing to say, you knew that he wasn’t as kind as Kokonoi was. Where he was at least kind enough to pretend to console you, Rindou was not that kind of person, not really.

With his hand snaking down your side profile down to your throat, Rindou used his finger to keep your head tilted for him. His knuckles grazed against the column of your neck with his thumb nail pressed into your chin, forcing you to only look at him while the other two men touched and defiled your sensitive body that was already on the edge of it being way, way too much. “ What ? Not gonna call out for me to come save you like you did for Kokonoi ? “

“ She probably knows you’re not going to save her, “ Ran pointed out, hands eagerly pulling at your nipples, causing you to squeak out in surprise. You could faintly feel something trickle down your bottom lip onto your chin, but the thought really didn’t cross your mind to be concerned about it until you heard Rindou speak up again.

“ She’s drooling now, “ Rindou pointed out rather bluntly, and you were reached forward sort of absentmindedly, wanting to wipe away any evidence of what he was talking about, but it really only incriminated you more.

The older Haitani laughed a little at your little action, and you had to wonder briefly if those two ever only talked to each other or if they could actually interact with the other executives. You were pretty sure that these two could forget that others were in the room with them with how much they talked with just themselves.

“ Is she ? That’s too cute, “ Kokonoi called out from somewhere to the left of you, although you weren’t exactly sure where. The warehouse made everyone sound far closer than they actually were, with voices sounding like they were right in your ear the entire time and giving you no time to process what little thoughts you were actually having.

Really the only thing you could think about was the way Sanzu’s knee was pressed up so deliciously against the most sensitive part of your body, the way his hand gripped your shoulder hard enough to hurt, digging into the bone of your shoulderblade. He’s not saying anything, his eyes glued to the spot on your crotch that was starting to soak through his own pinstripe slacks, causing the dark pink color of his suit to turn even darker right where he was pressed against you.

There was no way that Rindou couldn’t see it play plain across your face the moment that Sanzu’s knee jerked slightly, pressed against your clit through your pants in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head for a moment. “ There she goes, all fucked out and stupid, “ he snickered, leaning down to your face, hand tightening around your throat as he finally gave it a squeeze, forcing a little gasp from your lips.

You could see his eyes flicker away from you for a moment to what you could really only assume was Sanzu’s expression, but he looked back down at you moments after, neck still in his hands as he brought himself down for a kiss from you. As if on cue, Ran pinched both of your nipples harshly, making you moan out into the kiss just moments after his lips pressed against yours.

Rindou tasted like alcohol, and it almost made you want to scrunch up your nose in slight disgust at the strong flavor of several different alcohols mixed together. He didn’t act drunk, not really, but you could only imagine that he was six or seven drinks deep by now.

Maybe that was why he didn’t seem to have any reaction, even looking bored, when those gunshots rang out earlier. maybe he really was just like that, and there was no explaining him or anyone else here.

you’ve been kissed before, and touched, but there was something about having six hands on your body at once that brought your mind spiraling to a place that you weren’t even sure you’d ever been in before. You felt like nothing, like every muscle in your body was suddenly torn into pieces and left you boneless and weak while surrounded by these men.

You could feel eyes all around you, taking in your disheveled, desperate state. Kokonoi was definitely watching, and possibly that older man, Takeomi. You were vaguely aware that a few people were missing, but you couldn’t possibly really think about what that could mean. Were Mikey and Kakucho also just watching ? What about that other guy, Mochizuki, or had he completely left all together to go take care of those bodies ?

The idea of people watching you somehow made you more nervous than the six hands actually touching your body. Were they disgusted ? Did they think you were just some common whore ? Did they pity you, or something equally frustrating ? Before you walked into this warehouse, you had a decent grasp on who you were in Bonten.

Now, you weren’t sure about anything other than the knee pressed up harshly against you that with every movement from either you or him, it sent a shock of pleasure up your spine, and the slight pain of your nipples being punished and abused, and the strong taste of alcohol on your lips that you swore you could get drunk off of.

If there was a light at the end of this, you were pretty sure it was just the glaring, annoyingly bright florescent lights overhead, or the hazy feeling in your stomach as all of the sensations started to overwhelm you, the pit in your stomach growing bigger, needier, with every moment.

Right before you could really focus on that feeling, Sanzu’s knee pulled away from you, and you tried to jerk your head away from Rindou to look at him, but his grip on your neck tightened, keeping you firmly in place against him, and refusing to let you go just like that.

At your gasp, he pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, the taste of his saliva momentarily shocking you from really reacting.

Fuck, whatever bullshit you were thinking about him tasting like alcohol was wrong, and you knew it now. He tasted divine. Like someone you could get addicted to kissing and forget about everything else in the world, and there was no doubt that Rindou knew that you were enjoying his kiss, too, especially with the way that your body almost instinctively reacted against his touch.

You could feel your pants being tugged off of your body, the fabric that had been so soaked against your pussy peeling off uncomfortably, making you want to squirm around in that cold metal chair. One of the hands on your tits glided down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Ran slipped his hand into your panties, more curious than anything else about your body.

“ Fuck, “ Ran whispered under his breath as his pointer and ring finger spread you open, his ring finger dipping into your heat, and you could hear Sanzu grunting in agreement immediately, like he knew just how soaked you were without even touching you properly. “ She’s so fucking wet. A sopping, needy little thing. “

Rindou pulled away, if only for a moment, leaving your mouth open and waiting for more of him. He’d been something that grounded you in place, to not have his lips on yours almost felt inexplicably wrong. With the distraction gone, however, you tried to peer back at Sanzu and Ran, but Rindou had a tight grip on your hair, keeping you from moving your head.

“ She is needy, “ he agreed, his voice a soft purr as Rindou looked down at you, clearly tempted to kiss you again, but refraining from doing so. Ran’s ring finger curled inside of you, finally breaching your soaked little hole and making a pathetic noise fall from your lips.

“ Most sluts like her are, “ you could hear some shuffling around as Takeomi spoke, and you had to wonder how close he was. It wasn’t until he was right in your face, grey eyes with a scar running down one side of his face peering at you like he was looking at something below him.

Compared to the amusement dancing around Rindou’s eyes, and the faux comfort in Kokonoi’s, looking at Takeomi was like looking at someone who’s hatred for you went deeper than his own bones.

With your head pulled back, you couldn’t do much as Takeomi leaned in closer, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke directly in your face. You shook your head, trying not to cough, but in the end the taste of nicotine choked you, and you couldn’t help your body’s natural reaction of wanting to fight back, trying to pull your head away from Rindou’s grip as you coughed.

Takeomi’s hand moved to grab your face, causing you to stiffen against his grip. His fingers dig harshly into the soft flesh of your cheeks, forcing your jaws apart and your mouth open. You weren’t sure just how many bruises on your body you were going to have after you escaped from this warehouse, but you already knew that you’d have his fingerprints on you that would take days for them to properly go away.

Without a warning or any inclination of what he was doing, he spit in your mouth, the filthy act making you immediately recoil in surprise, eyes blown wide as it hit your tongue.

It tasted bad, like cheap alcohol and nicotine, the flavor enough to make you want to retch ever so slightly. your knee bounced up and down as your face scrunched up, nose crinkling in distaste and you momentarily entertained the thought of spitting it back out of your mouth to get the taste out quicker. But you didn’t get far with that thought.

“ Swallow it, “ Kokonoi ordered simply without a moment’s hesitation, as if he could read your thoughts.

You could feel your stomach drop down to your feet, but something inside of you told you to listen, like you couldn’t really deny Kokonoi – or anyone else here, really – if they told you to directly do something. You were the best at following orders, that’s what got you so far up the ladder in Bonten. It was an act that you had perfected down to an art form, and you weren’t easily swayed out of old habits.

With your mouth still forced open by Takeomi, you let the spit that had hit your tongue drip down to the back of your throat, gulping just enough that it went down.

And with that, Takeomi pulled away only slightly, his hand pulling away from your cheeks and letting you close your mouth again. His much larger hand rests on one of your cheeks for a moment, almost tenderly, before delivering a small slap to your face.

It didn’t hurt all that much since your body was primed and ready for pain after everything that has happened today, it just shocked you a little, and you let out a little gasp of surprise when you felt the slight stinging on your cheek. But Takeomi moved away from you after glancing over your body one good time, taking in every one of your curves and the dips of your body, his gaze somewhere in between reverent admiration and absolute hatred.

“ She really takes orders from Koko still ! “ Ran snickered after everything settled for a moment, his finger still stuffed deep into your cunt, curled to hit that spot within you that made you want to moan out and forget everything except for the feeling.

“ Yeah, don’t you know you’re an executive now ? You don’t have to take orders from Koko, “ Rindou pointed out in agreement to his older brother, like usual going along with whatever Ran says and just being mean. His grip on your hair softened a little bit, but he didn’t want you to look back just yet. “ Or any of us, really. You don’t have to listen to a single one of us anymore other than Mikey. “

Was Mikey even in the warehouse anymore ? Did he have any say over what was going on, did he simply not care, or was he enjoying it, too ? You now knew that Takeomi was there and participating, but it still felt a few people weren’t, or at least, they weren’t active in touching you.

Mochizuki, Kakucho, and Mikey weren’t there yet, something that you wanted to ask about, or at least figure out who was touching you and who was just watching. But you didn’t have a good idea of your surroundings, your vision usually forced a certain direction by the people manipulating and violating your body.

Before you could say these thoughts, however, Ran’s hand moves away from your pussy, pulling out of you completely and moving away from your body just slightly, and Rindou had all but completely let go of your hair, although your head was still back as you tried to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. You wanted to whine about the lack of contact, the sound welling up in your throat.

You didn’t really have time to do either one of those things as your legs get hoisted up over Sanzu’s shoulders, body pressed against his in a way that had your head reeling with the new type of contact. You’re barely hanging on to the small metal chair, ass almost hanging off of it like you were bound to fall any second now.

Its not until you feel your panties being pulled to the side of your cunt that you can really get a good understanding of what was going on, or what was about to happen.

“ I– wait– “ you started nervously, glancing down to look at Sanzu, but he wasn’t looking at your face, his eyes lowered at where your body was against his.

You didn’t want him not to do it, some part of you was more excited about this than you cared to let on to anyone, even if everyone could already see it on your face without you having to say anything about it. You could feel your own wetness drip down your body and onto the ground below you, probably on Sanzu’s shoes or the cold cement ground.

“ Mm– no, I’ve been waiting long enough, “ Sanzu said impatiently, his voice still holding just a little bit of that bark it had when he first met you. Sanzu was mean, and he didn’t pretend to be anything less than that. Cold and detached from most things, you knew that he didn’t care really if you were absolutely ready or not.

“ Bitch is fucking soaked f’me, god, “ he mumbled underneath his breath, more to himself than anyone else, but the Haitanis both let out little chuckles at his words anyways. Ran, in particular, who’d spent the last few minutes prepping you for him, not that you really needed it or anything.

You found yourself holding your breath as you watched him unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down, the outline of his hard cock visible before he even got it out yet.

Fuck, you were going to die. It wasn’t so much the length of him that made your stomach twist in nervous knots as it was the look on Sanzu’s face, like he was going to take exactly what he wanted now that there was nothing between the two of you.

You wanted to beg him for just another moment, but you knew that your pleas would fall on deaf ears as he let go of one of your legs to guide himself into your entrance. With a swift, fluid motion, Sanzu pushed himself into you, the stretch of having him inside of you making mewl out in pleasure, little moans escaping from your throat.

Both of Sanzu’s hands went back to your legs, pulling you a little closer to him as he began to fuck into you with a pace that bordered on violent, his hips meeting yours as he embedded himself in your gooey walls entirely with each thrust. He was barely pulling out, his entirely length disappearing completely inside of you, his balls hitting the plumpness of your ass every movement.

“ A-ah.. f-fuck..! “ You whimpered, gasping a little bit as he fucked you, unrelenting in taking what he wanted. You tried to say something, but your words were incoherent and incomprehensible, your voice hiccuping in your throat as you just moaned like a desperate whore for him, for all of these men around you.

After being pushed to the edge for so long, first with the tattoo and then with the teasing and now this, you couldn’t hold on anymore, not with how Sanzu felt inside of you, and the feeling of being watched by everyone around you, hands letting go of the chair that you’d been holding onto as you felt your orgasm crash over you almost painfully.

You could hear each one of your pathetically loud moans reverberate off of the walls of the warehouse, making your desperation for more all the more obvious to each one of them. You could feel the force of each of Sanzu’s thrusts bouncing your entire body against the metal chair, until you couldn’t stay on any longer, ass falling off of the chair and you let out a scream of surprise, but Sanzu didn’t let up.

He bent over slightly, still deep inside of you now as he let out several little grunts, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure as he felt your body squeeze around him. Your legs were still thrown over his shoulders as you tried to reach for the ground, your body suspended completely in the air with no good way of reaching the ground below you.

There was no way, was he really going to fuck you while you were upside, just like this ? You could feel the blood rushing to your head as you gasped and writhed around in his grip. You could hear some chuckling and something that sounded similar to a man’s moans that wasn’t Sanzu’s all around you, but you could really only look up and see everyone, and finally you got a good idea of where everyone was around you.

The Haitanis were on either side of Sanzu, both looking down at your limp, hanging body as he fucked you like this. Ran was lazily stroking himself with his pants barely tugged off of his waist, while Rindou was still busy palming himself through his pants, clearly wanting to make himself wait as long as possible before he gave in and touched himself without anything in the way.

Takeomi was a little ways away to your left, his dick in his hand as he watched you squirm around in the air like the slut he thought you were.

Kakucho was a little ways away, his arms crossed as he watched the other Bonten guys touching you. Despite the expressionless look on his face, you know you saw a bulge in his pants that he had to be ignoring on purpose, and you wondered if he would even give himself a chance to indulge himself a little bit even if you asked him personally to join.

You had no idea where Mikey was, or Mochizuki for that matter. You were pretty sure that the latter was probably out taking care of those bodies for Sanzu, or didn’t care enough to stay, he didn’t seem like the type to touch people like this. Maybe he had no idea this was even happening and would be pissed if he knew he missed out on… whatever this is. You didn’t know him well enough to really make any good decisions about him, or anyone for that matter.

Kokonoi walked up to you, the look on his face unreadable as he got close enough for you to grab onto him, and you did, digging your nails into the expensive red fabric of his long shirt to try to pull yourself up even somewhat. His hands reached up and held your lower back, straightening you out just slightly so you were face to face with his crotch, and you realized exactly what he wanted you to do.

“ Open, “ he demanded simply, letting you grab onto him as tight as you want to. You knew that he didn’t mind being your anchor as long as you did as he asked, and you were in no position to deny orders from him, not like this.

He had his pants pulled down just enough for you that all you had to do was open your pretty mouth and let him slide himself in, and you found yourself almost eager to do so. You had known him for quite some time now, since before he let his hair grow out and bleached it. If there was anyone here that you could admit that you were secretly rather excited to touch, it would be Kokonoi.

He’s not huge, which you were rather grateful for because you didn’t want to struggle to take him when you knew that you couldn’t really pull back. Kokonoi would be the one controlling how deep you took him and when you got a chance to breathe, like your body was no longer yours at this point. ‘

You were starting to believe that it wasn’t.

Willingly opening your mouth for him, he almost looks proud as he pushed his hips forward into your mouth, letting you taste him for the first time. His dick was leaky, precum coating your tongue almost immediately, the taste sweet and salty at the same time. He looked like he took good care of himself, body hair well kept and he smelled really, really good compared to the faint scent of blood and gunpowder that you’ve been smelling in the air this entire time.

He pushed himself completely into your throat, the column of your neck bulging as you took his entire length, and you had to grab at his shirt tighter to keep yourself from writhing around. Kokonoi seemed to understand that you were struggling for just a moment, rocking his hips back and forth to let you get used to the new intrusion.

It was hard to calm down your throat enough to properly take him with Sanzu still stuffing himself inside of your drenched cunt, like he didn’t care if you were struggling with someone else and certainly wasn’t going to stop himself because of it, and you couldn’t help but mewl and moan around Kokonoi’s cock, drool from your lips dripping down your face into your hairline.

“ Fuck, just like that, “ Kokonoi whispered, his hands going down to grab you by your armpits to keep you up so you could free your hands up. With him holding onto your arms like he was, and Sanzu still having your legs on his shoulders, you were completely suspended in the air, the only thing holding you from falling being the mercy and pleasure of these men around you.

Your arms were limp in the air below you for a moment until a tender hand came to grab yours, almost immediately guiding your hand to his cock so you could stroke it.

“ Come on, little girl, “ Ran purred, his voice condescending as his hand tightened around yours for a moment, guiding your fist to stroke him the way he wanted you to. “ Stroke me just like that, make me cum just like that. You can do it. “

Rindou, of course, wasn’t far behind him, finally having worked himself up to a point that he couldn’t control himself any more and absolutely needed to feel your touch on his dick.

He unzipped his pants and shrugged them down to his knees, grabbing your other hand and guiding you the same way that his older brother had. “ Nghh– fuck– “ he mumbled under his breath, trying to keep his cool as he felt your fingers wrap around his cock almost on your own.

The two brothers hold your hands for a while, either one of them having their own preferred way of having you touch them. Ran preferred slower strokes, with your fingers tighter around him. He clearly enjoyed your hand on his dry cock, maybe the almost painful friction was something that he liked, although he did smear his precum around his tip and it very soon began to coat your hand in the thick seminal fluid.

Rindou wanted it much faster, and honestly preferred to buck his hips up to meet your hand instead of waiting for you properly. He spit on his dick to make sure the glide was nice and smooth for him, but honestly with how leaky his dick was, it wasn’t even really needed.

You had thought Kokonoi had a lot of precum, but no, Rindou continuously leaked all over your hand and his, his grip on your hand barely anything as he jerked his hips up to meet your hand with each little movement, like he was trying to fuck into your hand.

Moans filled the entire warehouse as your entire body was being used, either your own or from several of the men. Surprising nobody, Ran was the most vocal, mumbling stuff under his breath about how good it probably felt to fuck your mouth or pussy if your hand felt this damn good.

Rindou made a little noise in agreement, but at this point he was so worked up that he was too focused on reaching that high more than anything else, devolved into nothing more but little moans as you fisted his cock for him.

“ You’re doing so good, “ Kokonoi praised quietly through little moans of pleasure, his hips rocking forward and back. Your nose was pressed against his balls, throat bulging almost painfully.

You could barely breathe, and being upside down this entire time really didn’t help you find your breath, either. Praise really wasn’t something you were expecting in this situation, not with how cruel and mean these men have been to you this entire time, but Sanzu quickly squashed that, anyways.

“ Good for nothin’ pocket pussy, “ he grunted out in between thrusts, his hands grabbing at your waist now that you weren’t half-way fighting against him holding your legs like he was. He squeezed your tummy tightly, feeling his fingers dig into the plushness of your body. “ Should’ve fucking known this is all she was good for. Runnin’ her fucking mouth to the wrong people for us and being a hole for the right ones. “

You didn’t want to admit that his words got to you, your body clenching up just slightly at how fucking mean he was, but it did anyways. You moaned helplessly against Kokonoi’s cock, earning yourself a little grunt of approval from him.

“ Shit, she likes it, “ Ran muttered breathlessly, and you could feel his hand move from yours to trail down your body, fingers playing with your swollen and painfully ignored clit, making you gasp and whine in response. His hands really must love wandering, always on some part of you. First your sensitive tits, now your throbbing clit. “ She really is a masochist for– ah, fuck– for this shit, huh ? “

“ She’s gotta be, “ Kokonoi answered in total agreement, his grip on your arms almost painful.

You hadn’t even realized that you were now fisting both of the brother’s cocks on your own now without their assistance, although your own movements were messy and uncoordinated compared to when you were being guided. It wasn’t exactly your fault, but it didn’t seem like either guy really minded at this point in time, something that you were secretly grateful for.

Rindou didn’t say anything as he fucked himself into your hand, desperate for just a little more, his eyes screwed shut as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was honestly making rather cute little noises, small desperate moans slipping from his lips with every little touch from you.

You were only vaguely aware of the other men in the room, of Kakucho and of Takeomi, until Takeomi slotted himself in between Ran and Sanzu on your side, dick pressed against your tit as he stroked himself close to you.

You could feel your nipple getting wet from precum as he moaned out from his own hand, his low voice honestly taking you back for a second because you weren’t sure if you’d heard anything hotter than a man forgetting about where he was or who he was because of your body like that.

You figured that he was sleazy enough to enjoy this kind of stuff, probably enjoying watching you get used like a cumrag way more than you wanted to know about.

“ Shit, this bitch.. “ he groaned to himself, voice strained as his hand quickened its pace, needing just a little more before he reached his peak. You tried not to focus on it too much and instead keep your attention on the Haitanis and Kokonoi, and the incredible pleasure of Sanzu in between your legs like he was.

“ Fuckin’ quickshot, “ Sanzu chuckled, gripping your hips a little harder. You were almost frustrated with Takeomi’s position, because now Ran had moved his hand away from your clit to make room for him, but Rindou quickly replaced that position for him, almost desperate to touch your cunt for the first time himself.

Rubbing little circles against the sensitive little nub for you, his fingers were much faster and rushed than Ran’s, like he couldn’t wait to see you come undone on Sanzu’s cock, something you found was rapidly approaching whether you cared to admit it or not.

At this point, you weren’t even sure how many times you could possibly cum on one dick, but something inside of you told you that you were about to figure it out today. It all felt so good, every part of your body and nerves standing on end with every little bit of contact, like you were a hair trigger away from losing it all.

You couldn’t tell if you were cumming on his dick with damn near every thrust, or if it just felt that good to be touched and used like this, like you were something precious to all of them and like something they could throw away at a moment’s notice at the same time.

You couldn’t lie, not even to yourself, that you were enjoying this probably way, way too much. And that thought, somehow, scared you more than anything else today has.

Were you really that fucked up ? Really that masochistic ?

Feeling Sanzu so deep inside of your guts your belly bulged with the outline of his cock, and the painful stretch of your throat around Kokonoi’s, you knew the answer without having to say it.

Takeomi didn’t answer Sanzu’s taunts, instead he just let out a loud groan as he finally came, the thick ropes of cum painting over both of your tits as he released everything he’d been holding in all over you.

“ Fuckin’ whore… Thinkin’ she’s some damn executive when all she’s good for is this, “ he hissed, speaking to you like you weren’t there, like you really weren’t anything but a set of holes to be used by these men in more powerful positions than you, more dangerous than you could honestly every hope to be.

“ Yeah, yeah, but she’s so cute, “ Ran hummed in response, calling you cute for the hundredth time tonight, as Takeomi lingered, his hand coming up to play with your tits, smearing his own cum against your body.

“ It was mikey’s decision to make her an executive, maybe he knew we needed some kind of stress relief toy. He couldn’t have picked a better one, shit. Your body really is perfect to be used like this, huh, doll ? Hm ? “ Ran asked, as if you could possibly answer him back, something he knew you couldn’t do with Kokonoi’s dick stuffed in your throat like it was.

You let out a little whimper against Kokonoi’s cock as Sanzu hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, his dick throbbing with need from having you like this for so long. He was finally back to being quiet, his eyes narrowed as his fingers dug into your hips again, each thrust getting sloppier and more desperate than the last.

It was clear that he was losing his composure, and quickly, and there wasn’t much you could do but pick a god and pray to whoever probably wasn’t listening to you anymore that he had the common decency to pull out.

Although, somewhere, a little inkling inside of you kind of hoped that he didn’t, but you squashed that part of you down before you could even fully realize the actual desire in your mind. Its not like you were going to act on it, you weren’t that stupid, but… that didn’t stop the idea from being there regardless.

Rindou’s groans came from the back of his throat, his hips meeting your hand desperately as he reached that blissful ending too,

“ Sh-shiiit, I’m gonna– all over your pretty tits, gonna– fuck– “ his words were almost incomprehensible as he moaned and whimpered on your side, body shaking as he finally gave up on holding off as long as he possibly could, not when he was so worked up like this. It felt too good, way too good, for him to be able to edge himself for any longer.

“ Fuck, fuck– “ Rindou gasped out quietly, and you found yourself trying to focus on your hand a little more to be able to bring him to that peak he was searching so hard for as fast as possible. You could feel his breathing quicken, until he stuttered almost to a complete stop, hips barely rocking against your hand as you felt his cock desperately pulse and throb in your hand.

The noises he let out were as close to heaven as you were pretty sure you were going to get tonight when he came, cum shooting out of his dick so hard it left Rindou momentarily dizzy and disorientated, only really able to squeeze his eyes shut and moan.

You could feel it as his cum hit your chest and slightly further down your tummy, the second load on your tits only covering them even further. You had a little part of you that couldn’t help but think he was kind of cute like this, mouth panting little obscenities as he tried to calm himself down, hair stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead.

“ She’s so fucking good at this, even with her attention split, “ he groaned out, trying to catch his breath the best that he could moments after reaching his orgasm, “ Now that she’s an executive, we have to fuck her like this more often. Every Bonten meeting has to end like this, it just has to. “

Rindou let your hand drop from his dick, definitely far too sensitive to want you to keep going, but his fingers never stopped rubbing quick little circles around your swollen clit, wanting to see you come undone just like he had moments ago.

Fuck, his fingers felt so good, especially in tandem with Sanzu’s thrusts into your sopping, desperate cunt.

“ Shit– she’s squeezing me real fuckin’ tight, just like that, “ Sanzu grunted out, his voice getting a little higher than it normally was. “ Can’t– fuck, can’t stop now, gotta fuck this bitch so good she learns her place. Nothin’ more than a damn hole for me to use. “

“ Fuck, yeah, but– damn, you’re making it hard to hold back, huh, little lady ? “ Ran teased, as you tensed up a little as you felt takeomi’s fingers tease your nipples, pulling at them slightly, flicking one of them with his fingers. He seemed mesmerized with your pretty tits, especially with them coated in cum like they were.

Kokonoi’s grip on your arms tightened a little, pressing his body against your mouth and forcing you to deepthroat him, your airways completely covered or plugged up.

You immediately started to kick one of your legs, hitting Sanzu’s shoulder repeatedly. You could feel the pressure in your chest build, the panic rising in you as your body started to fight back against not being able to breathe. Your throat clenched around him, drawing out an almost melodic moan from him. Even while you were struggling, he was still trying to draw as much pleasure from your body as he possibly could.

“ Shit, let her breathe so she stops kickin’ me like this, damn, “ Sanzu snapped at Kokonoi, which he only chuckled at before pulling back just slightly, enough for you to catch your breath without his cock in the way.

“ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it. Her throat just bulges so nicely around my cock and she sounds so pretty when she gags like that, “ Kokonoi reasoned as you choked and coughed, trying to catch your breath the best that you could.

It was the first time that you really had to come face to face with the very real reality that even if Kokonoi acts kinder than everyone else here, he most certainly was not actually kind, and was in this for his own pleasure as much as the Haitanis and Sanzu were.

Somehow, you weren’t as surprised by that revelation, and once your breath was caught, you opened your mouth willingly for Kokonoi to take your throat once again, tongue flat and waiting for him, and he did so immediately without hesitation on his part. Even with tears in your eyes and a mix of drool and precum all over your face, you were still so damn eager for him, something that he found oddly charming in its own way, and so attractive at the same time.

“ I trained this throat so good, hm ? “ Kokonoi teased, although there really wasn’t any bite to his words anymore, not with the way you were so obediently sucking him off like that, your throat bruised but still desperate for more from him.

“ God, fuck– “ Ran’s voice cut through to your attention, and he grabbed your hand again, back to guiding your hand as you stroked him off.

“ Stop stealing all her attention, dammit. She can’t focus on me with you talking to her like that. “ His free hand smacked your ass harshly, grabbing at the fat of it, causing you to moan out against Kokonoi’s cock. The harsh impact almost made you want to sob, tears that were already streaming down your face threatening to come out harder.

“ I’m almost there, just keep fuckin’ going, “ you could tell from the venom in Ran’s words that he was mad at you for unintentionally edging him, forgetting about your hand and focusing your attention on throating Kokonoi.

Lucky for you, you didn’t need to focus any of your attention on Sanzu, he was perfectly content with using your body like a fuck toy and nothing else, but if you stopped paying attention to your mouth, you’d start to gag and choke around Kokonoi again.

Ran alternated his hands really quickly, still guiding your hand on fisting his dick as if he didn’t trust you to forget about him this time. Now with his other hand freed up, it found your throat, squeezing at it, pressing against where your throat was bulging with Kokonoi’s cock.

“ If you wanna focus on sucking dick so much, let me help you, little lady, “ he hissed, grip tightening slightly against your already bulging throat. You gagged, your body’s natural reflex wanting to kick in again, but you did your best to try to calm yourself down.

“ Its okay, “ Kokonoi soothed you after letting out a small chuckle, watching how you struggled to take him with Ran’s hand tightly around your throat. “ You’re okay. You can take it, yeah ? Just a little more like this, just for a bit. He’s close, just gotta keep going until he’s done, okay ? Can you do that for him ? For me ? “

Its not like you could possibly say no, but still somehow his words did manage to soothe a part of you, even just a little bit. Although you could barely breathe, and the pressure around your throat was making your already dizzy head get even more light, you tried to find a medium in between all of this.

Just a little more, just like that, exactly like Kokonoi said.

You choked again, your entire chest heaving slightly as you tried to calm yourself down, legs shaking on Sanzu’s shoulders. “ She’s so fucking tight when she’s getting choked out like a slut, “ Sanzu hissed out loudly, “ Keep going like this and you’ll have all of us cumming with her, dammit. “

“ You get off on getting choked, yeah ? Not being able to breathe ? “ Ran asked rhetorically, his hand that was guiding yours speeding up. He didn’t move his hips to meet your hand like his younger brother did, but he was definitely biting back some noises, body tensing up underneath your touch more and more every moment. “ I can feel your throat all tight and bulging, shit. Gonna cum, gonna cum, pretty girl. Just fuckin’ like that. Don’t pass out on us, not yet. “

Ran’s grip on your hand tightened as he fucked himself with your hand, his patience running completely empty at this point. He was feeling so good that he didn’t have it in him to drag this out any longer, although every part of him normally would want to. Something about the way you were writhing underneath him, letting him use your hand for his own pleasure to the point you didn’t even fight back as he took your hand for himself, spurred him on more than he cared to admit out loud.

Shit, you really were so cute to him, someone he definitely could see himself fucking again and again just like this. If he could somehow convince Sanzu to give up his spot in between your thighs like that, he’d make sure that your cunt remembered the shape of his cock.

He threw his head back as he let out a low, quiet groan, finally shooting his cum all over your pretty tits. You felt yourself hiccup, trying not to heave again against Kokonoi as Ran finished, dragging the tip of his cock against one of your tits to get every last little drop on your perfect body.

Finally, after a few moments of him basking in the moment, he let go of your throat and your hand, his breath coming out in ragged little gasps as he looked over your body, painted with the cum of three men including himself. Rindou and Takeomi were right, every meeting had to end like this.

The world around you came back from going completely black as soon as his hand let go of your throat, able to suck in just enough air from your nose to keep yourself going for right now, even though it was difficult to breathe.

He wasn’t the only one who was thinking the same thing, not by a long shot. Kokonoi was finally starting to lose his composure after staying so in control for the majority of the time, his chest rising and falling as he started to fuck your throat a little rougher than he previously was, the rocking of his hips that had been a slow, lazy pace getting faster and faster.

“ Can’t… Can’t hold it back anymore, “ he groaned, hips stuttering as he used your mouth, his balls slapping against your face with each movement. “ You’re so good, so fuckin’ good at sucking cock. I knew you were good with your mouth but damn.. “ Kokonoi’s breath hitched in his throat, clearly unable to keep going for much longer either.

Your throat was so sore and bruised, your jaw hurt so badly a part of your mind was worried that it might be broken or bruised even though realistically you knew that wasn’t the case. You’d gagged so much that your tummy was in painful knots, the intrusion of his cock in your throat still causing your body to want to reject it, but it couldn’t do that right now.

“ I’m gonna cum, “ Kokonoi announced, one of his fingers tapping underneath your arm just a little bit as he tried to warn you for it, like he knew that you were just on the edge of it being too much for you and needing a break. Despite knowing that you were right there at that edge, he had no intention of pulling out and cumming on your body, instead deciding that he had to cum in your throat and make you swallow it to the best of your ability.

“ I’m gonna cum, okay ? You can swallow it for me like a good girl, yeah ? You’ve done so well so far, I know you can swallow it. “

You knew you were helpless in this, you could feel that hopelessness permeating all through your body that there was nothing you could possibly do but take it and swallow it all.

Your eyes rolled back, body threatening unconsciousness. Despite the treatment of your body like an object, your poor cunt was soaked, Sanzu’s cock sliding in and out so easily as Kokonoi fucked your throat ruthlessly, holding nothing back anymore.

A loud groan escaped his plump lips as he finally let go, his cock twitching and throbbing as ropes of hot cum filled your mouth. You wanted to swallow it all as you gulped a few times, you really did, but your body was screaming at you that you were either going to spit it out or you were going to pass out.

It was a mix of not being able to breathe, being suspended in the air upside down, and being pushed past your breaking point that made the world around you threaten to go dark, fat tears streaming down to your hairline.

Kokonoi pulled out of your mouth just moments before you collapsed completely on him, and you picked your head up, coughing up the remaining cum that you couldn’t manage to swallow on your chest.

He almost looked apologetic for a moment, like he almost felt bad for fucking you past your breaking point like that, but he didn’t say anything about it, and the look was gone from his face relatively quickly when he realized that you were as fine as you could be in this situation, just a little lightheaded.

“ We’ll work on you swallowing it all, okay ? “ Kokonoi promised with a sly little smile on his face, still holding you up for Sanzu, picking you up just a little bit so your back could rest on his chest.

He was doing his best to soothe you while your body was still being used, trying to bring you back down from that experience of almost losing yourself there, but there really wasn’t much he could do other than hold onto you.

You were really barely coherent, just sort of nodding along to whatever he was saying, your mind empty from most thoughts, eyes unfocused as you watched Sanzu pushed himself deep into your cunt like he had been for the last half hour now.

“ You just be a good girl and take it for him. we’ll discuss your performance afterwards, “ Kokonoi pressed a small little kiss on your temple, the action itself painfully domestic and kind, and normally you would’ve found yourself blushing a little bit at the act.

“ Shit, you have no idea how good she feels, “ Sanzu’s hands held your hips, strokes longer and more erratic. It was impossible to think like this, impossible to have a single coherent thought with how fucked out you were, your entire chest covered in cum now, including the tattoo which had luckily been bandaged up by Sanzu before this all started.

And still, despite being so fucked out, your poor hole completely abused and throbbing in both pleasure and pain, Sanzu kept going even through your haze, needing to reach his own high, and you were desperately crying out for him, your first words since you finally got your voice back pathetic little pleas for him.

“ Pl-please, “ you whimpered, hiccuping a little bit, your voice high and slightly scratchy from how bruised your throat was, “ Please, Sanzu, please. “

“ Don’t even know what you– ah, fu-fuck, what you’re asking for anymore, do you ? “ he sneered in your face, barely looking up from where your cunt was being stretched out around his cock and drooling for him to look at your face. “ Gonna ask me to stop or keep going ? You want me to fuck you senseless, even more dumb than you already are, yeah ? Look at you, so fuckin’ pathetic. “

“ So fucking cute, “ he groaned out immediately after, biting his bottom lip as his hips met yours. He barely pulled out before pushing himself back inside your warm, gooey cunt, his eyes practically rolling back at the feeling of your body clenching around him so tightly, like you never wanted to let him go. “ So, so fuckin’ cute, stuffed with my cock just like this. “

Sanzu had been talkative this entire time, sure, but he was never talkative like this, to the point where he couldn’t shut up enough to catch his own breath, his voice ragged and broken, punctuated with moans and grunts from him. It was like he wasn’t going to be able to stop now that he had started, fucking into you like a man possessed, like he’d never had pussy as good as yours before.

“ Maybe takeomi’s bullshit was right, maybe you were made for just this. No fuckin’ thinkin’, no workin’, just being a good, tight hole for me. All f’me. Shit, shit. “

“ Sa- Sanzu– Si- Sir– “ you sobbed out through quiet, mindless little moans, leaning your head against Kokonoi’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of whatever expensive cologne and body wash he usually used.

The pleasure in your lower tummy was too much, the only thing that you could feel in your otherwise numb and yet too sensitive body. You couldn’t tell how many orgasms you had throughout this entire time, your brain to fuzzy to make sense of anything other than Sanzu’s body and Kokonoi’s presence. “ Pl-please– “

“ Gonna give you what you want, “ he snapped, glancing down at you, his eyes narrowed, his mouth opened to let out little groans, his eyebrows creased in his concentration on fucking you so good you forget everything except his name and your place underneath him as a cumdump.

“ You want my cum, yeah ? Body already covered in it and you’re still so fuckin’ greedy. Maybe I should cum inside, just for a change. Have you completely covered and filled, inside and out. Shit, with the way your cunt’s squeezin’ me, I might actually– “

He couldn’t finish his taunts, pulling out of you quickly right before his cock twitched against the fat of your pussy, cum shooting from his painfully red dick across your body from your navel to the base of your chin.

His grip on your waist loosened like he’d lost every muscle in his body, letting out a little groan as he finally reached that point. “ So fuckin’ good, best pussy I’ve had, takin’ me like a goddamn pro or some shit like that. “

You glanced down at your own body, mind sort of working down from your high as you saw just how covered you were in cum. There wasn’t a part of you that they had missed, with your tits and chest getting the majority of it all. Finally, they were finally done, and you could breathe…

You laid your head back against Kokonoi’s shoulder and closed your eyes, exhaustion wanting to take over your body, but you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that you couldn’t go to sleep just yet, there was more you had to do right now.

Kokonoi brought you over to that metal chair you had mostly forgotten about, sitting you down in it. Your body slumped over it, head lolled back as you tried to catch your breath.

“ Mikey, she’s done, “ Kokonoi called out finally, voice not directed at you anymore and far colder than you’d heard him talk previously.

He pulled away from your body, falling in line with the other executives as Mikey stood up from where he was sitting facing towards the exit, walking over to you.

You were only vaguely aware of each one of his footsteps, even though they echoed off of the walls like everything else had. You were only sort of aware of everything, like the entire world was spinning and blurry around you, and you couldn’t focus on a single thing. You were pretty sure you were swaying, your head leaning heavily to once side, your mouth still hanging open as you panted for some air.

There was a long, drawn out silence as Mikey stared at your fucked out body, his expression unreadable, although you weren’t looking anymore. Your eyes were closed, and you were trying to bring yourself back down from everything that had happened, but you were in the clouds, and coming down was a lot easier said than done.

There was something in the look in his eyes, like seeing you like this unlocked something darker inside of him, scratching at a more taboo itch than he was used to dealing with.

He looked at the tattoo, the clear bandage on top of it covered with cum, spit, and sweat now, his expression unreadable. For a second, you might even accidentally think you see a hint of light in his eyes, but it's just the way the fluorescent lights of the warehouse reflected in his abyss.

You heard him ask something, something about whether or not you would like working as an executive. Something probably about your new position that you had been given, but you couldn’t make out the words, nodding along no matter what he had actually said.

Your body and your brain were disconnected, leaving you somewhere in between the two states of absolute oblivion and being conscious and aware of your surroundings.

“ Go at her again if you want, “ Mikey said finally, turning away from you after a moment of staring. “ She’ll be fine. “

The permission was so simple, but it only took a few moments before a pair of hands found your tits, eliciting a pitifully quiet little whine of pleasure from your lips as whoever it was pulled at your nipples and smearing the cum all over your chest a little more. you blinked your eyes open for just a moment, barely there anymore as you saw the gazes staring back at you, ready to make use of your body one more time for the night.

Away from you, Kakucho’s ever watchful gaze stared at you, keeping his eyes on how you responded to each of the touches, even though you were somewhere far away right now. He clenched his hands to his side, internally fighting a war with himself on whether or not he wanted to join or not. It’d been way, way too long since he last got his dick wet.

Was this really your life now ? You took that step into this warehouse, and now you could never go back to where you had been before. You were an executive of Bonten, the tattoo on your skin a permanent reminder of exactly who you were, of exactly all you would ever be in this life.

You were good at listening to orders. one of the best, in fact. It was more than just rare for you to mess up a direct order given to you by one of the executives that surrounded you, and that made you the perfect pawn. You could be molded into anything they needed at the time, the perfect canvas for white to cover your body.

Innocent wasn't exactly the word, it was more like naive, and belligerently hopeful, even when you faced the worst. It was like you couldn't really see the world around you, not completely anyways.

Orders were orders, something that you were more aware of than the average person around you. If you were given an order, you did it without question.

The tight black collar around your neck was the perfect little symbol for your status as one of the best. You didn’t have the key to it, and you weren’t entirely sure which one of them did, either. Although if you had to guess, your money was on Mikey or Sanzu. But its not like you really wanted to have the key either, not really.

You walked down the street, the night air cold but not uncomfortable, and the sky was clear tonight, gun strapped to your thigh and not even attempted to be concealed.

Your orders were simple today, and a part of you was pretty sure you wouldn’t even need to use your gun, not like you ever have. You’d had to pull it out a couple of times, sure, but you’d never had the need to pull out your gun before and take someone’s lives.

That didn’t mean you didn’t have blood on your hands. You sent people to the executioner’s block several times over, like you were probably going to do today.

Some stupid old man was causing trouble at one of the clubs the Haitani brothers owned, and you had reason to suspect that he was faking his connection with Bonten to get into a club meant for members only.

How he was doing that, you didn’t know, because you were at least sort of aware of anyone and everyone within the upper ranks, often combing through their names and identities to sniff out people when needed.

You didn’t have to show any proof of your identity at the door, the people there already knew not to ask questions your way, anyways. You pushed yourself through the door and into the loud club, the music so loud that it made your eardrums vibrate painfully in your ears.

As usual, it was packed, with some people whispering in secrecy about whatever deal they were trying to make, others trying to get an easy lay from some of the girls there, and a few people there to drown out the horrors that came with the job with alcohol.

Sure enough, at the bar, there was a sleazy old man leaning against the counter, leering at some lady, and you couldn’t recognize him. Whether or not that was the right guy, it was a start.

Now all you really had to do was strike up a conversation, although that wasn’t something that you found yourself eager to do. Entertaining men like that usually meant that you had to act a certain way to get any good information out of him.

Your heels hit the floor with each step you took as you made your way to the bar with a small, deceiving little smile on your face. You wrapped an arm around the girl like you knew her personally, “ Hi ! Sorin, it’s so good to see you again ! I missed you so much since you were away with your kids for the weekend. How are you ? “

The woman’s eyes widened immediately, a reaction you expected from her, considering you weren’t supposed to actually know who she was, but it came with the job. “ How– how did you..? “

“ How did I spot you in the crowd ? Silly, your hair is so pretty, I could spot it from a mile away, “ you responded quickly before she could stutter out her actual question, effectively shutting her up before she could give you away. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to play like this, and it wouldn’t be the last, but there was something slightly entertaining about being able to read normal people so easily, like you could see right through them.

And in a way, you could.

You glanced at the man, finally bringing your attention back to him now that Sorin was finally satiated for a moment, “ Who’s the guy, Sorin ? He’s kind of handsome, in a… unique sort of way, you know ? “

“ Shikichi Aoyama, at your service, “ he introduced himself, flashing you a mildly disgusting grin, clearly not taking very good care of himself. If the entire club hadn’t smelled like sex and alcohol and masked most other scents, you were sure his breath reeked.

“ Shikichi Aoyama… What a handsome name, “ you hummed as you pulled away from Sorin to let her gather her things and leave.

You looked him up and down, wondering if he knew that you were aware that he lied directly to you. Shikichi was dead, you sent him to Sanzu personally last week for trying to siphon money from Bonten’s pockets into his own, you were sure about that. After all, you had been there to witness it go down.

So if Shikichi was dead, but this guy was claiming he was him, who was the guy in front of you ? Looks like you did find the guy on your first try after all, something that you were silently glad about because if you had to talk to this guy for no reason, you were going to be grouchy about it for a little while.

“ What are you doing here tonight ? Looking for a drink ? “

You hummed, pretending to think for a second before nodding, “ Yeah, I could use a drink or two tonight. It’s been a long night so far, and I have an even longer night ahead of me after I leave the club. “

You weren’t lying, not this time. You had a sneaking suspicion about what kind of night it was going to be, and you were sure you weren’t going to be getting too much sleep. After all, you had a meeting to go to pretty soon.

“ Aw, you poor thing, “ he turned away from you, flagging down a bartender to order some drinks for the two of you. While he looked away, you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, only to spot two figures approaching from the corner of your eyes, and you mentally sighed with relief.

“ Hey, little lady, “ one of the voices called, his tone dripping with false saccharine sweetness as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, something that you didn’t fight back.

“ This the guy ? “ the other guy asked, glancing from you to the man in front of you, who was now trying to piece together what had happened in his head, still not recognizing the two men by your side just yet. i

It was something you found almost comical, because you knew what was going to happen next. This never failed to be a fun little watch, especially when you were expected to finish this up relatively quickly so you could make it to the warehouse on time.

“ Who the fuck are you two ? “

Ah, well, maybe you and the three of you would just have to be late for the meeting today, but it wasn’t going to be a big deal.

You reached out and grabbed the drink that the bartender handed out, shooting it back as you settled into the bar stool that Sorin had been sitting on previously.

Whatever drink this was, it tasted like ass, mixed with the cheapest vodka the club sold and probably club soda if you had to make your best guess, and you found yourself annoyed that this guy thought he really could woo you with whatever shit concoction this was.

“ Damn, looks like you pissed her off, huh ? “ Rindou laughed a little as you made a face at the drink, sitting it down on the marble bartop. “ If you’re gonna buy a girl a drink, you have to at least make sure you know what she likes. And her tastes are a little more expensive than whatever you just gave her. “

Ran took one look at you and flagged down the bartender again. He didn’t need to say anything else or order, his go-to drink was already typically memorized by most of the bartenders, just like your identities. It was his bar, after all, so he could be a little difficult with their rules if he wanted to be.

“ I said, who the fuck are you ? “ The guy asked, standing up from his spot at the bar, clearly ready to start an altercation, one that he probably wasn’t ready to finish. “ Don’t start giving me advice on girls, you don’t know shit. “

“ Mm, and you do ? “ Rindou’s voice was a sneer, laughing at him and just making the situation heat up even more.

You wondered briefly if he was ever going to notice the gun strapped to your thigh, or Ran’s, or Rindou’s. All three of you were ready to go at a moment, although you would admittedly be a little slower pulling the trigger than the other two, something you weren’t afraid to admit.

Kakucho was right, you were better as an informant than with the gun, but that didn’t stop you from having one if you needed it anyways.

“ I know more than you. “

You couldn’t help but scoff a little at his words, wondering if he realized how idiotic he sounded, or if the alcohol was making him think that he was the coolest person in the entire club tonight.

It was almost really, really funny how easily either one of the Haitani brothers could rile someone up if given the opportunity to have some fun with someone, and you couldn’t help but almost admire how they moved through life with such charisma that they practically dripped it. Nothing could phase them, nothing at all, it seemed.

Other than a kiss from you, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. You knew that, you just simply didn’t say anything about it. Some things were better as a secret than they were spoken out loud, and you were pretty damn good at keeping secrets for people, especially your fellow executives.

“ Yeah ? You know shit about girls ? “ Ran hummed, leaning forward to look at the man, getting right up into his face to look directly at him. “ You know anything at all ? You sure ? I don’t really believe you. Sorry, man. “

You almost snorted out in laughter, instead focusing your attention on thanking the bartender for the drinks that he had made for you. You passed one to Ran, and one to Rindou, keeping the other one for yourself and taking a sip of it through the tiny little straws. It was fruity, with more cherry grenadine than anything else.

Ran turned to you, taking a sip out of his own drink and giving you a smile, “ Like it, pretty girl ? “

“ Yeah, thanks, “ you nodded, sipping on your little drink as you looked up between the two Haitanis and the man, “ You’re the best, ran. “

“ …Ran ? “ The man repeated, eyebrows creasing together as he tried to figure out how in the world that name was so familiar.

But before he could use all of his brain to figure it out, a gunshot rang out and his head hit the table, body slumping to the ground. The club was only shocked for a few minutes, more stunned at the noise of the gunshot than the actual shot itself, most people turning to look at the assailant behind you.

“ You’re late, “ Sanzu hissed out simply, crossing his arms as he made his way towards the three of you. “ Was that the guy or did you just make me kill some other asshole ? “

You’d think you’d be used to Sanzu’s temper by now, but you weren’t, not by a long shot. Still, you nodded once again, knowing that your time in the club was almost coming to a close, “ Yeah, that was the guy, you got him. “

Standing up, you stretched, taking the glass with you as you looked over at the three of them. Sanzu was in a bad mood, and the Haitanis were clearly in playful, teasing ones. Tonight really would be a long night, and the thought made you mentally sigh out a little bit, although a much larger part of you couldn’t hide the excitement about what was to come.

Sanzu’s hand reached out, finger finding the metal loop of the black collar, pulling you towards him. You let out a little noise at the sudden act, shoulders stiffening slightly out of reflex. “ Let’s fucking go then, we don’t have time to wait all day. if Mikey gets mad it’s on you. “

“ Chill, we solved the mission she came here to do, Mikey won’t get mad. The person we should really be worried about is Koko, “ Rindou pointed out, but he followed behind you anyways. there was a hand on your lower back, and another one on your shoulder, and both were already beginning to roam your body, despite not even being outside of the club yet.

Yeah, this was going to be a long night, but you found yourself almost skipping along behind Sanzu, following his guiding hand straight into hell.

taglist ﾉ @qichun ( i adore you jasper thanks for being here through,,, everything actually ) @haitani-maki @little-ari-bear @leave-rae-alone @rockinrob1n @n4muqr @kodzuken95 @dramallama2d @tenjikusstuff4 @lywji7 @i04mnji @thisismarisaaa @honeygonebads-blog @hyperiondickrider @oococ01 @rustedrampage @jellybelly-may @mccookiemonster @cvpid-xo @dizzydesi23 @sleeplessreader @wakashudou ( togame liker spotted <33 ) @mouse-0w0 @hayleighloatx @akkkeiji @lyssie02 @edellly @moshimoshimoo-blog1

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sugurizz · 2 years ago

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(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

Nanami always keeps clear boundaries with his subordinates. He's a highly professional man who never crosses a line when it comes to mutual respect with everyone around him.

It's almost admirable in your eyes..How efficient he is, how perfectly he executes every task of his job. only does he seem different at times...

You're just so thoughtful it almost annoys him. You've already picked up on each and every one of his little habits; the way he likes his coffee, exactly when he takes his coffee breaks, where he usually hangs his freshly ironed jackets, where each piece of paperwork is kept in his office...

...Might be the old age but it makes him feel things when you knock on his door, when you greet him with the "Morning, Nanami-san, I sorted the documents from yesterday for you", or when you get his jacket for him without him even asking, with a sweet "Nanami-san, please don't forget your umbrella tomorrow, it's going to be rainy."

You're the only one who's allowed to adjust his tie when it's a bit loose, the only one allowed to lay your hands on his chest and fix his collar -breathing in the scent of his colone along the way-, the only one igniting his primal desire despite his exhausting life.

Might be the old age but he certainly wishes he could get this kind of treatment at home as well. He's rather lonely, overworked and tired whenever he gets back to his empty apartment..

Wouldn't it be better if you were the one to bake his fresh bread and prepare his delicious sandwiches for him? Give him a kiss before he heads to work and send him pictures of your legs spread with one of his designer ties barely covering your pussy?

Wouldn't it be so much better if he came back to strip you naked and take a steamy shower with you? push you on his king-sized bed to devour your sex, then have you all prepped and pretty to take his cock?

He'd be so happy with any of that, so happy he's now stroking himself and fondling his balls, trying his best to picture the way your tits pressed on his chest in the cramped elevator yesterday.

He knew your birthday was coming up but you never thought he'd even remember something so seemingly 'irrelevant' to him. So you didn't expect to find a luxurious box delievered to your doorstep, with a handwritten wishcard that had a familiar scent to it.

A note saying "wear them with your black heels, it'd look perfect" was inside the box, signed with a beautiful -Kento- on the corner...

---

"Nanami-san, your morning coffee." You greeted him with a smile the next day, leaning down as you gently posed the cup next to him.

"Nanami-san, I'm wearing your gift for my birthday. And the fabric feels so soft on me..."

a large hand pulled you back by the arm as you were about to walk off..

"Don't go there, sweet cheeks. you know I'll ruin you.."

"Then ruin me, Kento..."

I'll be at my desk if you ever need me."

You closed the door behind you, flashing him an innocent smile on the way...

---

Nanami san was missing at work that evening, secretary y/n was not there either. But thankfully your coworkers didn't know the reason behind your absence..

Nanami is busy training your throat in his spacious apartment. Your ass is on the cold floor tiles, body stripped to the lacy lingerie he bought you, caged between the wall and his lower half as he goes balls deep in your throat.

His tie is leashed around your neck with his leg pushing between your thighs, the tip of his expensive leather shoe bumping against your tiny clit.

"How much did this pussy think of me, hmm? does she like my shoe kissing her? playing with her?"

His leg presses harder, your eyes cross in pleasure as you suffocate on his veiny length..

"Look down princess, she's dirtying herself, drooling on my shoe.."

he frees himself from your mouth, leaving you with a drooly tongue and snotty nose as you shiver under him.

"Nanami..my pussy wants you, put it in her..please!"

"Nasty minx." He flicks his tongue with a grin, tears his shirt open to reveal his broad shoulders and toned chest, then tirelessly lifts you on his biceps.

"Aww...I want her too, princess.."

he kisses you senseless, giving himself a few pumps before he splits you open.

He's fevereshly rammimg inside you..golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, blushy cheeks blooming and hazel eyes almost teary as he finally feeds the hunger for you..

"Y/n...I need a wife! I want you-fuck-" you hug on him tighter, pussy clenching at the way he growls it against your lips... he paints your stomach white, his embrace deliciously crushing your body.

---

...A few days later the rumors started circulating among the coworkers; Both y/n and Nanami suddenly started wearing rings around the same time, and Nanami's office door started getting double locked, too often...

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sushirrrry · 9 months ago

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EXECUTIVE a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 19.3k words cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dom/sub, breath play, dirty talk.

"If they want the fucking numbers, they've got to stop being pussies and give us the fucking reins. I'm not sitting around and waiting for their stock to crash and for their stupid, fucking minions to come back on me to tell me what I already knew and told them from the start—I'm not painted out to be the biggest fucking moron, that's for certain. It's either a deal or it isn't, plain and simple. If they don't want to have that fucking conversation, it's done. Fuck them and their stupid fucking counteroffer. It's a fucking slap in the face, and I'm not even entertaining the idea."

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear, clicking on End Call before he threw his phone over and onto the wooden desk that sat perpendicular to the vicious New York skyline. His heart raced as he shook his head.

An adrenaline junkie like him fed off of the conversations like these.

His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his eyes navigated towards the contractual wreckage of paperwork that had seemed to be forgone on his desk as he pushed some of it to the side. His elbows leaned on the desk; his hands tied together as he rested his lips again them in a precocious thought.

Running the company came with a sharp tongue and a knack for knowing when it was time to push back. Harry was a mogul in all of the sense of the word—his company had grown to a gargantuan size, which allowed his position within the business to skyrocket to a level that was so without fail that he couldn't believe it sometimes.

His mouth got the better of him; in some ways, it created the effervescence of attack. It was all that he could do to keep himself from picking the phone back up and telling them to shove it all back up their ass—he refrained for the time being, until he was pushed again.

But no one usually poked the bear unless they truly believed they had a chance in slaughtering them. Mr. Styles was far too confident in his work and his business to ever let that happen.

The bear's claws reacted too quickly for the barrel of the rifle to even face him.

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

His eyes raised to the door that he hadn't seen opening before his lips parted just a bit to answer the woman questioning him. She wore a black skirt with tall, black boots that suited the length of her legs. Her top arranged in a bit of a messy manor, but it was almost as if she had styled it that way to add a bit of flare.

Her blazer hung a bit low—practically to the mid-length of the skirt that rode up her thighs, but he wouldn't have been caught dead staring. In public, anyway.

His eyes made their assessment of her quickly before returning to her naturally, raspberry lips that took up much of her lower face. The natural length of her smile was perfectly proportioned, not that he had spent much time thinking of it, of course.

Felicity—his assistant. The one with eyes the color of the ocean that he would vacation on in the Maldives; the most piercing, stunning blue. The quiet one, a bit shy in her reservations, almost like she was the smallest fish in the ocean made entirely of sharks. Her reservations to others seemed to aid in bulldozing over her confidence, but to Harry, it was an enticing spectacle of fantasy.

A fantasy he'd promise to never share with even his closest comrades, if an NDA wasn't in place, that is.

The dark brown locks settled against her back in heaps of loose, voluminous curls as she held tightly to the phone behind her fingers.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her question a bit hesitant as she didn't seem to move any further forward into the large space of his office.

"No—no, you're not," He told her, "Come in, Felicity, I need to use your brain for a moment."

"My brain?" She asked him, cocking her head a bit.

That was the thing about Felicity that almost made him foam at the mouth– her way of innocence and contemplation that allowed him to see his viewpoints from her standpoint.

Harry's company was outsourcing most of the global news which meant that he oversaw several departments within. His leadership was only as good as the recommendations and guidance that Felicity was able to provide him; her devil's advocacy, her interpretation of empathy, and being able to see how interactions happened without Harry present versus the other sense.

Felicity was a practical need in his company for various reasons, not one to just make his blood boil and frantically move around his veins every time he caught a whiff of the coconut lime scent that his mind had become familiar with.

She was a calmness to him in many ways, so her presence now settled his heartbeat from the previous conversation.

"That deal we're making this afternoon, I just got off the phone with Sadler and they're folding– they're becoming weak. And it's pissing my off. They're coming to me to help solve their issues, because they know I can do it. They're , but they know we'll do it. Which pisses me off because it makes us look weak if we just say yes."

Felicity blinked a few times as she watched Harry's reaction, her legs crossed at the feeling before she held her hands in front of her and nodded.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth before he shook his head, a few of loose curls settled on his forehead as he pushed them back and Felicity wished that he hadn't.

"I think you're going to push them to do it without the counter," Felicity nodded. "From what I'm hearing, they're folding, and they can see that what we can provide is significant. Especially in terms of the election. We can do it– you can do it."

His eyes flew to her word change, noticing that her eyes had moved away from him. The subtle blush of pink ate away at her cheeks before Harry nodded in his own satisfaction.

"Enough about me," He shook his head, "What did you need, Felicity?"

Her eyes raised as it seemed she came back to conclusion about what she had been there for to begin with.

"Oh, I just talked with Nava at PLI and they wanted to express their gratitude towards you, because they said that you helped them with understanding the fundamentals of their offer and I thought it sounded like a for-sure deal– I just wanted you to know that Nava is a yes," She nodded and raised her brows again in remembrance, "Oh! And I'm also running to pick up some coffee and snacks before the board meeting. Flat white?"

Harry smirked at the praise from her, watching it leave her lips effortlessly. He nodded a few times at her question before he rose from his chair and grabbed the tie around his neck to loosen just a bit.

Harry grabbed the paperwork off of his desk before he moved towards the door and guided Felicity to follow. "Yes, please. A flat white with cinnamon, maybe a pump of caramel? What do you think?"

The words were like a question as Felicity walked next to him through the natural, brightly lit office. Her fingers tapped away at the device before she noticed the slight edge of the spicy cologne that wafted from his demeanor as he turned his head toward her.

"I'm not a huge fan of caramel," She stated a bit hesitantly as they stopped in front of one of the offices where Harry was about to go into a meeting.

He looked at Felicity as they stopped, his eyes moving up and down as he went from her lips to her eyes as if involved in a game of ping-pong.

"What do you like, then?" His words were soft, fluid.

Felicity swallowed as she shook her head a few times and nibbled on her lip. She hummed for a moment, "Um, I prefer vanilla."

The corner of Harry's lip moved upwards. "Make it a hot flat white with an extra shot of espresso, cinnamon, and a pump of vanilla, please."

Felicity wrote it down in her notes, but her fingers almost shook with adrenaline as she felt his gaze linger on her without her noticing before she nodded. "Great. I'll– uh, I'll leave now so I can be back in time to make sure you have what you need."

Her feet started to move away before she heard the booming sensation of her name. The way that her eyes fluttered back at him made Harry almost take a step backward.

"Uh," He felt speechless at the sudden look of her, "Please get whatever you need, too." He felt the professionalism start to creep its way back in. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job, you have notes to write."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek before she nodded. "Yes, sir."

With that, Felicity turned her back and started to head down towards the elevators. Harry turned to make his way into the boardroom where he saw the table sitting and waiting for his arrival.

The hush that fell over the crowd made him shutter every time– the power he held echoed through his conscious at every moment it could.

He only smirked as he sat at the head of the table, pulling himself to sit up and lean on the table before he looked up to see the many eyes staring back at him.

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

One of the board members pushed it away after taking a small sip, as Felicity had just sat it down in front of him.

It was an older gentleman– Hank– who had worked with the Styles family for many years and been able to help SCO with their major launches with other shareholders. His entitlement was present in the room, which pressed on her ego just a bit. Her head turned towards him as she shook hers.

A woman at the end of the time made a face as she looked at the side of the cup, "Ordered a fucking latte—they even messed it up and it's cold. The coffee shop is just down the block."

Felicity tucked some hair behind her ears as she shook her head in a bit of disbelief as she tried to find the receipt that the coffeehouse had given her. There wasn't any way that they gave her the wrong order, but she didn't know if there may have been a mix-up in who she gave the coffees to.

"T-That's impossible—I just order—" But she was cut off by the man who licked over his lips and held his hand up to stop her words from even echoing in the room at all.

"Just go get some hot coffee, would you?"

Felicity's eyes blazed around the room as she noticed that the others had practically ignored her efforts of the two full cardboard contents of coffee cups that she had practically run the streets of New York to pick up. Not only were they not even acknowledging her, but they were condescending in her efforts. Yes, she was an assistant—she wasn't their assistant. It wasn't her fault that she was one person, but she knew that she had to try harder to make the best impression that she could.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up and drink your coffees, would you? Our deadline is in six fucking hours. If you can't handle a little lukewarm coffee, get the fuck out of my office. I pay too much of your goddamn salaries for you to cry like a fucking baby."

Harry's eyes moved to the nervous-looking girl who stood by the door, along the edge of the buffet that held the rest of the coffee, donuts, and bagels that had practically been falling out of her arms when she arrived.

He couldn't tell—it may have been the lighting, but her eyes looked glassy as she tried to stand with her shoulders back. Harry caught her attention before she threw herself back together and walked over towards him, leaning down to where he sat at the table.

"I can run to go get something else, I don't think it would take too long, you know. Or I could order it to be delivered?" Felicity asked, a bit cautious, he could tell. But her piercing blue eyes were practically a shade of gray as he looked at them through her thick, tortoiseshell glasses that complimented the brightness of her eyes.

His eyes fell to the way that the chapstick she always applied gave her lips the most subtle peony color—so pink, but so natural. He thought that may be a better place for his eyes to land instead of directly into her eyes, but then he panicked for a moment and turned them back to her eyes.

"That's not necessary." Harry shook his head, answering for the individuals in the room. Even if they pushed their coffee aside, Harry would have never blamed it on Felicity for any failure—it wasn't her fault. He took a sip of his own; to his dismay, it was a bit cold, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

The stature of Felicity at the door made him take in a deep breath before he caught her attention, asking her to come towards him with just a look before she was practically on top of him. Her willingness to do as he said gave him a feeling of endorphins that were unlike any he had before.

Harry looked up at her from his seat, licking over his lips softly.

"Please make a reservation for two at The Malbec tonight at nine—whether or not these jackasses are going to be done working, I sure am, and I'm going to celebrate it. Add that I would like the executive seating and the Pauillac on the table, not chilled."

She nodded a few times at his requests, adding it into her notes on her phone before she looked back at him cautiously.

"Should I be arranging a car to pick someone up for you?" She asked. Her teeth scraping against her bottom lip as she waited for his response.

Harry shook his head back at her before filing through a few papers, "Not necessary today. Just make sure that you're not off the clock yet," He nods, "In case something doesn't go as planned."

Felicity nodded at the feeling of his eyes on hers before he turned to face the table before him.

"Someone get John on the phone," Harry ordered, his eyes going towards, "Hank. I want their numbers for the day and the plan for the fiscal year. I want to hear it from their lips, the spreadsheets don't mean shit if they're just going to lie to my face. Mary, contact PLI to get their rates."

Felicity had started to make her way towards the door, back towards her desk that sat in the main office towards Harry's own private one, before Harry called her back, "Felicity, sit in this meeting, will you? Grab your computer."

Her eyes narrowed at him in a bit of confusion before he stood up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it to the spot next to where he was, at the head of the table.

Felicity did as he wished, leaving to grab her laptop and notebook essentials that she used to keep track of his days, his weeks. When she arrived back, she could feel a few eyes on her as they talked through the deal with John. The silence in the room as he spoke over the speaker was deafening before she sat down at the spot next to Harry.

His focus on the conversation made her attention turn towards him.

Working at SCO was one of Felicity's highest honors—she felt that her confidence was gained just by being in the room with some of these people. But, at the same time, she wondered at what point this would all get to her. She wasn't like this—she didn't have the same cutthroat mindset of tearing another down to get herself to another place.

In some respects, that's what was the balance between what Harry was and what he knew that he needed. He needed someone like Felicity to sit next to him—a calming sensation that he didn't ever notice until he would garner a sniff of the coconut shampoo that drifted from her silky chestnut hair.

It was sickening at times—the way he felt about her. When he was sitting next to her now, he watched as she let her fingers grace over the laptop keys, focused in on whatever task she was working on. His eyes moved away when he watched as her teeth loosened on her lower lip, letting the plumpness of it a drawback to a straightened line of her mouth.

He shifted in his seat as he felt himself get a sensation of pressure below the belt.

When he spoke, it was with a confidence that she couldn't seem to place. It was as if he could break and make with just words alone, a skill that he had to have been born with.

As they discussed the offers more in-depth, Felicity found herself distracted from her own work as she let her eyes gently maneuver back to where Harry sat at the end of the table. Her fingers practically stopped typing as she listened to the conversation and watched as his brain work in overtime.

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

The narrowing of his brows, the calculated glance at the table as if he could cut through it with just his sight, the determined clench of his jaw.

"Don't fucking low-ball this," Harry practically snarled as he tapped the point of his pen to his notepad. "I know what's best for this company and we don't want people who underestimate the work and quality of our services. Globally, we're ahead of the entire market– we beat out every major network in significance. If you truly want to hand us a shitty number like that, you'll fucking fall. Your company will fail, and we will continue to sit right at the top as you lick the dirt off our shoes. It's not a competition; we've already won. So, do you want to win with us? That's the question here."

There's a slow chuckle on the phone, a bit of silence, too. Felicity looks up from her laptop to watch as a few members whisper to one another before hearing John on the other end.

"Listen, it's– we understand this. SCO is globally leading, but this is an election year– how are we supposed to gain traction when the news sources from SCO are against the current climate? We just don't see the same vision right now and we need to make sure our values are aligning– SCO may not be leading once the election happens."

Harry's eyes don't dim– Felicity watches as he turns different, his focus staying on the notepad under his fingers as he takes a beat before he stares at the phone in the middle of the table.

Her leg crosses under the table, gently caressing his unbeknownst to her. His eyes falter for once, as she retracts her position when she watches him crack for the first time. She noticed that he faltered but only a small huff of his breath before she bit her lip.

"We're a multi-billion-dollar company that focuses on the current political climate at hand since we completely understand the market, unlike someone who needs to be bought out to ensure that they don't sink. If you're just sitting in the open water, we will look the other way when a shark comes by," Harry shrugs, "I don't quite understand your vision of understanding moral compasses when you're sitting on significant lawsuits and company fouls that don't seem to benefit you right now or the lying, cheating words that come from your mouth."

Felicity's eyes flew up from her place at the table, watching as she saw everyone else's down. It was an unmistakable feeling of vigor that suddenly oozed from the place of Harry's seat. His demeanor was powerful, it was penetrable.

The quietness over the phone doesn't seem to faze anyone else, but Harry's eyebrow arches at the seconds that go by before he pops his tongue into the side of his mouth with a cheeky grin that was questioning on mad.

"Looks like they just got eaten by that fucking shark, huh." He says quietly before leaning over to press onto the conference room phone. He ended the call before he watched the room continue in silence.

Another woman, Laura, sitting at one of the sides spoke up as she held her phone in her hands.

"It looks like they're countering again." It was a bit quiet, almost like she didn't want the entire room to hear as she read on her phone before looking up at Harry, who held the emotion of a bear.

"Tell them they can choke on their own spit." He bites before Felicity cleared her throat.

His eyes immediately softened at the way that she interrupted, mostly because he was a bit confused by it.

"Mr. Styles," She pipped, "I—I, um, if I may." She chews on her lip a bit before she takes in a breath. "It sounds like they're needing a bit more leverage. Maybe a bit more face-to-face interaction that will cut and garner the deal. You're going to need more than John's input; he needs more intel from other aspects to understand what their losses look like."

Harry's eyes simply rest on Felicity as he leans back in the office chair, his legs crossed—a pursed pout on his lips as he nods at her words. A trickle of egotistical pride lies beneath his chest as he stares at her for a moment.

"Set the scene for me." He tells her, before watching Felicity take a deep breath. He watches her chest fall and rise and something about it sets him into high gear.

"Your family started this from scratch—this company is bigger than just the cash flow, and it's completely understood that it's worth billions, but they need to understand that there's a larger purpose for the work that they've put into it. They're not on the same business level that SCO is—it's apparent by the way that they throw around their value system. Meet with John outside of the office setting, get him where he can be able to see that you're serious without the psychological barrier of the phone—"

"That's fucking bullshit." Felicity hears from down the table, another man making a comment about her complete train of thought that. "You really think business is about emotion?"

Harry narrowed his brows, Felicity a bit surprised but not completely. Her head turning back towards her computer.

"You need to be thinking internally for what's best for us, not babying them to give us what we want. You know they're going to fall right into our hands, we don't need to get soft on them." Mary, a woman that Felicity generously thought would at least have an understanding of her interests, seemed to shame her more.

Harry pursed out his lips as he stares at the notepad in front of him. He pushed his hands against the table to rise from his seat before he's raised, watching silently as he eyes Felicity quickly before he starts to make his way out of the room. Before he does so, he turns his back and holds onto the door before he looks at Felicity directly.

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

She swallows down the lump in her throat; cursing herself for even making a peep. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. Instead, she closed the laptop before she grabs the few belongings and makes her way out of the door.

Harry is steps ahead of her, not looking back, as they make their way to the office that sits in the north side of the larger office space.

When he walks in, he makes his way to his desk before leaning on it. Felicity walks in behind him, hesitating before

Harry notices that she hasn't fully made her way in yet.

"Come in," He tells her, "Take a seat."

Her words practically spilling out of her as soon as they reached the threshold of the door; there was nothing that she could say now that would make him keep her there, but she wanted to at least try.

"I-I know I overstepped my boundaries– I promise, I really do, I promise I will never do that again," She's holding the laptop against her chest, practically begging, "This is extremely unprofessional, but you need to know that I need this–"

"Do you know why you're still here, Felicity?" He asks, "Why you're still at SCO?"

His interrupted words make hers fall short as she stands at the door still. His arms are holding himself practically against the desk as he leans back against it.

Tears threaten her eyes as she tries to think of what she needs to pack from her desk quickly. This feels entirely too personal– he's firing her on the spot.

She shakes her head as she doesn't want to come up with an answer. Harry squints his eyes a bit as he notices the emotion that starts to creep on her face. All the sudden, he feels bad for what he's doing to her.

It feels a bit forward, maybe a bit out of his place. But he needs her to know exactly how he feels about her, and why the last assistants never stuck around.

He needs her to know that's she's different.

"It's because you're fucking smart," He tells her, "What you have, they lack. You have this– well, for lack of a better word, you're emotional. You can see beyond the bullshit and really down to the person." He points towards the area of the conference room that they just left.

"I'm not here to baby your ass or carry you through this job– you don't need this fucking job. You have so much more about you than being an assistant, okay? So, don't take what some fuckers in that office say about you and your ideas as gospel. They aren't getting it done, either– as you can see."

Felicity's demeanor loosens at his words; her knuckles along the laptop at her chest starts to loosen as she breathes in just a bit.

"I'm sorry–"

"Stop apologizing." He orders, "When you do that, all you're doing is making them right about you. They aren't."

There's a silence between them for a moment before Felicity nods a few times and bites at her lip. "You're right."

"Most of the time." He tells her, a smirk has replaced the seriousness of their conversation. "That's why I have this big office and a 300ft. yacht and they don't."

She follows with her own small, sided smirk, watching as he goes to move from his position.

"That sounded very cocky, I'm sorry." He laughed a little bit, lowering his head as he felt a bubble of laughter. Felicity followed behind, laughing a bit as she bit on her lower lip.

The tension had been cut; this overwhelming feeling of comfort had started to come across her, specifically when Harry looked back up at her and she could see the shining level of his green eyes and the deepening dimples crossing his face.

It wasn't an emotion she saw very often; it looked impossibly lovely on him.

"Stop saying sorry, remember?" She reminded him, a sheepish smile laying on her lips.

Harry moved his fists into his pockets as he started to walk a bit towards her.

It was then that Felicity recognized that his pure power and force was enough to knock her down to her knees. The way that he stood up, his suit tailored perfectly around his small hips and shoulders, she couldn't understand the feeling that had come over her suddenly.

Harry approached her, they were standing eye to eye as he searched between them both. He had been searching for something, surely, by the way his eyes moved between her own.

Felicity tipped her chin up a little bit; it was slight enough that they both noticed, but a sudden embarrassment crossed her thought at the way she had possibly invited a completely inappropriate behavior.

"Let's get back in there, yeah?" She clears her throat as she turned her head and body, moving back out towards the conference room.

Harry's fists tightened next to him at the way she moved away, and he couldn't help but shutter at what could have possibly happened moments ago.

He lowered his head before he shook it a few times, "Yes, of course," He confirmed, nodding at her, "I'll follow you back, I'm just going to," He felt himself getting hot which made him feel vulnerable to her stares. "I'll be in there in a moment."

Felicity turned, her hair falling over her shoulders before she nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

Before she was able to move out of the room, Harry caught her attention once again before he narrowed his eyes to her. "Can I—that reservation I asked you to schedule. Please move it to Friday night. Something's come up, actually."

Felicity made a motion to speak, but she didn't end up with any words. Instead, just nodding a few times, her eyes smiling back at him as she agreed to his request. "Sure, no problem."

Her smile had vanished from his view as she turned to walk back to the conference room.

When she noticed that she was out of sight, his eyes had widened just at the breath that he had been holding in. It didn't matter how big or important a meeting could be, Harry never got nervous. He was never worried about anything—he knew what he was getting himself into, and nothing scared him. There wasn't a reason to be.

Standing in front of Felicity was a feeling he had never imagined would give him a doubt; he never felt like he would be pushed away or turned away, and the feeling of dismissal was encapsulating, to say the least.

He pushed his hand into his hair as he went to sit in the chair that was pushed in behind his desk, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shook his head.

Never in a million years did he think that he would feel such a way—never like this.

"Let's get back to work, then."

_______________

It had been a few days since the encounter in his office. Harry had noticed that even the next morning, Felicity seemed to be in much better spirits. Her head was held high; her shoulders were sitting back, like she was prepared to keep her chin up for the day.

He could catch glimpses from his office, watching as she typed away or smiled down at her phone. A piece of him felt only the slightest bit of—he didn't know the feeling very well—jealous. He wanted to know more, wanted to understand what she could have been smiling at.

He knew that his job had been done a few days ago as he watched her spirits rise just at his words. Something about that feeling was missing now—he didn't understand what it was, but his ego may have been getting in the way just a bit.

Harry sat his pen down that he had been using to write out some tasks before he grabbed the pad of paper and started to make his way out of his office. The small desk that sat outside of his was taken by Felicity; a few photos and memorabilia sat to give her space a bit of light and personalization.

It didn't mimic Harry's own office very well, as his was kept more straightforward and narrower. There wasn't any photos or personalized mementos—just plain, really. But the photo of Felicity and another man caught his eye, something he had never really seen before. Something he never felt that he would have had to pay attention to, that is.

"That your boyfriend?" He felt himself saying, but an ultimate feeling of embarrassment rose as he watched Felicity look up at him quickly. It was clear that she hadn't really noticed him sneak up on her, and her hands flew to the phone on the desk before closing the screen promptly.

"Uh," She shook her head, "I—I mean, we've been talking a few months," She referenced to the phone before she looked back at Harry and noticed that there may have been a bit of miscommunication.

"Oh—uh, no, sorry," He shook his head, pointing to the photo that sat on her desk. "I was—that photo, I'd never seen that before."

Felicity turned her eyes towards the photo that sat on her desk in the black frame before letting out a breath of relief. "Oh! No, that's my brother." She laughed a little bit before she watched Harry reach out to grab the picture frame off her desk.

He studied it for a few seconds, letting his smile move up a bit before he sat it back down. "Yeah, you guys look alike. I just—it was new, so I didn't know."

Felicity bit on her lip before tucking her hair behind her ears, "No—yeah, I would make that assumption, too. It's fine, but yeah." She didn't know that he would notice that she set up the photo or not. She knew now that he paid attention; he had an attention to detail, it seemed.

The small moment gave Harry a bit of concern as he felt that there was some unresolved feeling between the two of them. He cleared his throat, holding the paper out before her as she piqued at the small task guide that Harry had been feverishly writing down.

"I have a few things that I need to get done today, if you don't mind." He had handed her the paper before her eyes ran over it a few times. "It's just a few little things, but I need to have a few suits dry-cleaned for our business summit on Monday in England—I'm flying out tomorrow morning on the jet, but we'll need to make sure that everything is taken care of for that. I believe you, myself, Laura, Hank, Daniel, and probably William will be there, so we'll need to make—"

"Excuse me, but," Felicity chuckled before shaking her head a few times. "Did you say me?"

Harry blinks a few times in confusion before he bites the inside of his cheek. Surely, she knew that she would be leaving in the morning– she had to have known that as his assistant, she would be most responsible for being on the trip.

"Uh, well," Harry blinked, "Yes, I mean. of course. You're the most vital person for the trip, really."

Felicity bit into her lip before she turned towards her notes, her eyes flickering over them as she realized she wouldn't need to send him a detailed email of their agenda– she'd be there to tell him in person. So, all this work—it didn't matter now.

"Right– yeah, of course. I'm stupid for not putting that together." She shook her head as she took in a sigh, crossing out a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention back to him before she cleared her throat. "What time should I be at the airport tomorrow, then?"

Harry bit his lip, shrugging as he felt the smile crossing his lips, "I don't know—you tell me. You're my assistant."

Felicity blinked at him a few times before laughing out a little bit, letting her head rest in her hands as she felt a bit ridiculous for feeling so caught off guard. "Right—right. I—yeah."

In the back of his head, there was a delicate feeling of intrigue that bit at the back of him. He squinted his eyes a bit as he settled against the edge of her desk. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he narrowed his attention down to Felicity until she looked up at him and felt the wandering look. All Felicity knew is that she didn't want to look at the way that his forearms protruded against the fabric of his pressed white button-down.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her, the smile on his lips tug briefly before he was letting it fully on display. "You seem a bit... caught up."

She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked at her computer screen. "I'm fine—yeah. I'm just—I was a bit caught up, I guess," She chewed on her lip as she realized that getting personal was just that. It was personal. She didn't want to bore him or let know too far in. Their relationship was strictly business; it seemed that she endeared him though.

Her eyes traveled back to him when he didn't seem to leave her alone and she noticed that she'd had another message.

"I'm just... the guy I've been seeing, well, on and off—he just asked me to dinner and he's picking me up from here tonight around five. We haven't seen each other in a while, he's a bit..." She bites her lip again as she tried to find the right word, "I don't hear from him often. But when we're together, everything is fine. So, I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed with it."

Harry pinches the inside of his bicep when she speaks, his smile fading just a bit. He didn't want her to notice that, though. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had been excited for someone who was making her wait. Instead, he shifted a bit on the desk as he cleared his own throat before speaking.

"That's—that's great," He tells her, watching as she smiles at his appreciation and acceptance, "Where is he taking you?"

"We're just going to this place off from fifth avenue, some place he said is nice. We're really just meeting for a beer or something." Felicity's eyes light up at the realization before she turns to face him a bit head on now, her chair swiveling around before she crosses her legs and faces him. "What about you, though? That reservation I made for you tonight—who are you meeting with?"

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

He remembered the reservation he had moved to tonight, simply so that he could flesh out a few details with Felicity over a dinner with just the two of them. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it to her. It was stupid of him to think that she wouldn't be busy on a Friday evening, of course. He had wanted to talk to her about the upcoming week; maybe get a little more out of her if everything was off the record at a dinner that wasn't going on the company credit card, but his own personal dollar.

Harry shakes his head a bit before he scratches at the back of his head, "Uh, right. I—I might need to cancel that. I don't think that's going to happen anymore."

Felicity watches his expression before she seems to mimic with a bit of somber. "Oh. Sorry. Tough subject?"

When he pushed himself from her desk, he placed his hands in his pockets before he hung his head a little bit. It hadn't occurred to him that the disappointment had been a bit stronger than anticipated-- and it wasn't just because he always got what he wanted.

"Hm, something like that," He tried to explain before he changed the subject to get it off his mind, "But yeah. So, dry-cleaning and all that can be finished before the morning, yeah? If you have any questions about any of that, I'll be in my office. Meeting at one and then I'm going to leave here around five."

Giving him a warm smile, Felicity nodded her head at him, watching as he turned to his office.

Her attention fell back to her phone; falling back to the smile and giddiness that had been so rudely interrupted by a different kind of feeling—one that she wasn't so sure she was supposed to enjoy, in that way, anyways.

_______________

The black Suburban pulled up against the curb; Harry's phone against his ear as he moved towards the vehicle in a fluid motion.

A driver had opened the door before he crawled in the back seat. The call on the other end had been a business call that he was supposed to listen in on; he wasn't going to speak, just listen to the meeting of what was said. He decided it had been enough and clicked it to end before he looked up and out of the window.

His head turned towards the door before he watched Felicity standing at the curb. She looked uncomfortable as she stood and had her eyes searching for whatever it was that she was looking for.

It was a little bit past six then; the rest of the day was filled with a meeting or two before he really started to get more work, letting his head get wrapped up in taking calls and finishing off emails before he would be away from the office for a bit.

This was how they left each other on most days; his car pulled up, and he usually drove away before he could notice if she caught another ride or if she headed towards the subway. Her eyes were searching— almost like she had been waiting for something or someone but didn't want to seem disappointed. Harry could feel it in his chest—he could feel the way that she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a bit of distress.

It had occurred to him then that Felicity had mentioned that she was supposed to be picked up around five—a full hour ago.

The rain had started just a bit, enough that she quickly looked to the sky for a moment as if to curse it.

He watched as her phone fumbled in her hands. A discerned look on her face made him halt the driver before they could start pulling away. Harry watched her, the knowing look on his face as he rolled down the window to call out towards her.

"Felicity," He stated, opening the door before he stepped out. "Come on, get in."

Her eyes looked to him, practically mortified. Her head started to shake a bit before he moved out of the car just enough that she noticed his offer was serious and that he wasn't moving. The door was open now as he stood outside of it and held it open for her.

"Let's go– it's raining." He said, squinting a bit as the rain started coming down a bit more.

It seriously took Harry a moment before he realized that it may take a bit more for Felicity to listen to him; her contemplation didn't last long as the rain started to hit the cement loudly—her papers and bag held over her head as she made her way towards the open door of the large vehicle.

Felicity's heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried into the back of the van, crawling across to the other side and trying to keep her skirt down as she realized he would be coming right behind her.

There was a brief pause of silence when the door shut behind Harry.

Once they were situated in the backseat, Harry looked at her for a moment as she seemed a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were on her phone as she cleared her throat.

Her eyes were narrowed down as she searched through some texts, a bit all over the place it seemed. Harry knew Felicity better than this, and her nerves were starting to overwhelm her hand, almost like she was completely unsure of what was happening right now.

"Do you just—do you mind dropping me off at fifth ave—" She had started, but he was already shaking his head.

"He's not showing up, so no. Peter, drop us at The Malbec."

Her head turned towards him at the bluntness of his tone and the way that he resisted her need. The way that he answered her was unlike he had ever spoken to her; that caught her off guard the most.

Felicity flipped through her texts once again before she scoffed out, "Harry, I have a date tonight. I'll just get a car from there—"

"No, you won't." He told her, before situating himself in the back. The way that her hair had a bit of windswept to it, the length of her lashes, the complete blush of her cheeks—it was all enough for him to generally bust at the seams.

Seeing her like that was a wake-up call as he looked away and tried his best to be a gentleman.

"I'm off the clock, so my duties are relinquished for the night." She told him sharply, giving herself a bit more voice before Harry really glared at her this time. He had never heard her speak to him in such a way, but something about it gave him a mouthful to bite from.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, I'm your boss." He told her; his eyes seemingly turning a darker color the more she stared at him. It was enough for her to scoff and turn her head out of the window as they had started to drive up towards the restaurant that she refused to go to.

Harry spoke again, this time a bit softer. "It's just dinner. No work."

It takes a moment before Felicity leans into the window and lets her head rest against the glass. The feeling of the coolness takes over before she shuts her eyes for a moment. It doesn't feel like she wants to cry, but maybe there's a bit of emotion that she can't seem to let go of.

The disappointment aspect was never good to her; that was how this always worked. Something always disappointed her. There hadn't been a moment when she felt comfortable or safe—no, really, she just wandered around in this life with so much hope. So much hope and very little pride, now.

She lived for the hope of it all.

When they made their way to the restaurant, it had started to rain a little less. It was merely a sprinkle before Peter pulled off to the curb closest and the two of them were able to get out.

Felicity was instructed that she could leave her work items in the car, bringing only her purse as Harry followed behind her. When they walked into the restaurant, her eyes widened at how fancy it was—the dim lit lights were much brighter than the sky had been at this time of day, especially when the clouds rolled in.

The host was able to take them directly to their seats—the ones that Felicity had made the reservation for. It was an intimate seat; two chair and a small table that were seated close to the window, but enough away from everyone else.

The Paulliac was on the table as instructed; the host pulled the chair out for Felicity before she was able to take a seat. The only reason she would have ever been to a restaurant like this is for a work event. The host sat menus in front of them before giving them some space.

Harry pushed his sleeves up on his forearm; the littering of tattoos on him was endearing to Felicity's eye before she looked away at the attention she was drawing to them.

"Wine?" He asked her softly, taking the bottle from the table and holding it out in a means to offer her some. She had agreed, nodding a few times before looking at the menu and the items on it. Surely, she couldn't pronounce half of them before she looked up to see that Harry had been looking at her already and her cheeks grew rosier.

Felicity felt that there was a tenseness now, like she didn't have too much to say. She didn't want to say too much and bore him, she didn't want to not say a word and feel the awkwardness that seemed to linger as they sat longer.

"I mean, since we're here," Felicity grabbed the phone from her purse as she scrolled through it, pushing her hair out of her face to tame it a bit from the frizz that the rain caused, "So, just to recap some new additions to the calendar, you have a dental appointment next Monday, a meeting with PLI at 10—"

"You said you grew up in DC, didn't you?" Harry cuts her off, his question making her turn to look at him with a solid glance before she starts to nod a few times. It was a bit unwarranted, but she decided that she would settle into it.

Felicity doesn't know why his soft voice seems so foreign from the bitter sound of his usual bite.

"Y-Yes, yeah, I grew up in Northern Virginia, actually." She gives him a solid answer before she licks her lips. Her hand moves to grab the wine glass, taking a solid sip before she places it back into its spot on the white knit tablecloth.

Harry nods at her simple answer, not necessarily looking for anything else. His head was filled with the worked he had been processing through the week, and something about this felt... warranted. He wanted this to be normal; to feel like she could see him from a different perspective, maybe, without less fear in her eyes.

Something about her makes his blood boil with a derailment—it's almost like he can't seem to read her, which makes him angry and animalistic, almost. He doesn't know why but he feels a bit shy in her presence.

Her eyes read over the menu before she clicks her tongue, "Anything on here that you would recommend?"

"You have any food aversions?" He asks, pretending to look over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.

She shook her head, not really thinking of anything. She knew that there were foods she didn't particularly enjoy, but she knew that if something was going to be expensive, she would put that aside to at least try.

When the waiter came by, Harry took initiate to order for the table– the two of them. He ordered an entrée, three appetizers, and a spring salad. Felicity listened as he did so, knowing that he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it.

She couldn't relate to that; not these days, at least. She didn't know what she wanted, so she pretended not to think about it most days. Instead, she recognized that not putting the pressure on it made it feel like it was enough; she had to understand that she was okay to be a bit unsure at times.

The restaurant has a crowded chatter amongst the guests, but Harry can't help but pay attention to the silence of the table instead.

"So," He pulls at the tie around his neck just a bit as he leans towards her at the table. "I'm thinking of possible meeting with PLI, in person. Like you mentioned this week, at that meeting. Something about looking someone in the eye might be the best approach and making sure everything is clean."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, watching as she took another sip of the wine. Her eyes were placed now on her hands that laid in her lap.

"Thought this wasn't a work dinner." She mumbled out, but suddenly caught herself, "But yeah– yeah, I think that would be good."

Harry pressed his tongue into his cheek, tilting his head a little bit as he heard her questioned statement. His frustration at not being able to read her was posing a threat to his mood before he shrugged a little bit, "It doesn't have to be, but you are kind of quiet, and I feel like I made you uncomfortable in the car. Or something."

"I'm not uncomfortable," She lied, "I'm– I don't know. I'm just a bit thrown by the events of the evening, and I think men are kind of preposterous right now. Please don't take that personally, and really, no offense or anything."

Harry shrugged, his lips turning downwards as he contemplated the truth in her statement, "None taken. I may agree with you, but," He licked his lips, "Can we agree that women are sometimes a bit..."

As he hesitated for a moment, Felicity spoke instead. "I would suggest that you not finish that sentence, probably. It sounds like the beginning of an HR concern."

Harry lifts a brow in curiosity from her argument that seemingly pushed her a bit out of the boundaries, "You can speak, but I can't? Don't believe that's a fair view of how you think women should live in society, is it? You want fair treatment, so I'm going to be honest with you."

"I didn't limit you from speaking, I just suggested that you should not. You can definitely say whatever it is that you'd like to say to me, Mr. Styles." Felicity shook her head a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. The way that she said his name always made him a bit woozy.

There was a moment when Harry wasn't completely sure that he didn't see the glimmer in her eye—that he didn't see a sparkle that may have been a fleeting moment, just a quick nod to him before it was gone forever, making him look mad for even thinking it in the first place.

"I will say it, then, if you're willing to listen," Harry told her, "I think that men and women aren't usually equal—nor should they be," He paused for a moment before he watched as her facial expression started to contour with a confusion so loud that he was certain the chefs in the back could hear. "I think that we live in a balancing act. For instance, the guy that you were looking to see—sure, he's probably an asshole, but you continued to want to see him. The pendulum works both ways. Maybe you shouldn't have wanted to meet up with him."

Felicity scoffed out a breath before she took a sip of the wine again—she could feel that there was a growing fuzziness that she wasn't able to keep up with. "Oh, you're giving me relationship advice now?"

The way that she bit when she had a bit of alcohol in her made Harry's eyes turn a darker shade of green that was unable to be noticed by the dimness of the restaurant that sat in. It was much more direct than she ever had been with him before; he wondered if this was how she was normally.

"I like to think I have your best interest in mind." He tells her with full honesty, feeling a bit bare with the truth laying flat on the table.

There is a moment that Felicity feels her heartstring tug, wondering if he meant it to hit her as specifically as it did. But she clears her throat when she watches the way that Harry refills the glass of red wi the out her asking for it, noticing that he fingers tremble when he grabs the bottle.

"I— I really do appreciate it, like, what you– I mean, you probably don't remember, but just this week with the whole coffee incident–"

Felicity is cut-off, by him, but she can see that the anger peculates off of him as he recalls the incident, "I hate that they think people are below them like that. It bothers the shit out of me," She can tell that the thought bothers him; his eyes narrow down as he takes a sip of his own wine, "Yes, it's your fucking job, but it's also not worth their time to be shitty to you for something you can't control. And you couldn't be nicer, grateful, kind—"

Harry's cut off by the food coming to the table. He shakes his head at the possible embarrassment he may encounter from the softness of rambling he had started to portray about some of her highest qualities.

The dinner that came out was exceptional— nothing less of what Felicity could have imagined. It was top-tier; the wine that was paired with it made her giggle a few times when Harry would go on rants about the way that he thought some of the companies ran. He would start the conversation with, 'off the record' and she would smile about how he could keep their conversations low.

It wasn't until she had told a soft-spoken jab about how she believed that he needed to stop hiring old, white men that she noticed that his dimples were parallel on either side of his face. They lit up his features, turning his eyes the color of a southern sky.

When they had finished, Harry took the check with ease and signed his name in capital letters, as if he wanted everyone to know that he had spent the amount of money at dinner that she spent in a month of rent.

Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as they maneuvered out to the car. The street was starting to become a bit crowded, especially at the door for the wait. Harry had texted his driver to make sure they could be picked up, which again, he made sure to open the door for her as they flew into the backseat.

Felicity told the driver where she needed to go; back to her apartment that sat on the upper West side of the city. It was close to Central Park; a few blocks away, she'd say.

There's a moment when Harry feels that he doesn't want the night to end. He surely doesn't want to watch her leave— that's for sure. The car ride is spent with him catching her glances as they watch the lights in the city pass by; the honking of the cars and the putter of rain starts to encapsulate the backseat.

"Is this good for drop off?" The driver asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Felicity before she nods, agreeing with a soft yes, and starts to collect her things. The items she had brought from work were still in their place.

Harry watched as she goes to speak, knowing that it was going to be a goodbye. He would surely see her in the morning, but he couldn't bare the idea of flying across the ocean, staring at her across the seat from himself, without any words left unspoken.

"Uh," He shifted a bit in the back of the car, Felicity could see that he was looking up towards the building that she called her own. "Do you actually mind if—uh, I really have to piss."

Her eyes widened a bit before she let her own lips widen into a smirk. "Oh— yeah, please."

It hadn't occurred to her until they were walking up the steps and into the building that she may have had some underwear on the floor and could potentially have a sink filled with dirty dishes— she couldn't quite remember.

But what she did know was that Harry was following in her steps as they climbed a few flights until they reached the third floor.

"Quite a workout, huh?" Harry puffed as they reached the front door to her specific apartment.

"Hm," She hummed, "Imagine having to move all of my furniture up here. I had to ask random men on the street to help me."

Felicity digs into her purse before she's able to find the keys to the front door.

"I don't want to be super nosy," He looked around the small vestibule that they were standing in while Felicity tried to find her keys—even though the purse she held was naturally quite small. "But is there any reason you live in a place that resembles a prison?"

Felicity chuckled out a laugh before she found the small keyring and tried to put it into the lock. Her hands were a bit unsteady—the wine was holding the buzz over her as she steadied her hands to unlock the small door.

"This is what livable looks like in New York," The door swung open; Felicity moved into the tiny apartment before placing her bag on the kitchen counter. "Maybe I need to have a discussion with my boss about a raise."

It wasn't the smallest apartment, but it was exactly what she needed. There was no storage space, but there was a separate room for each need—living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. She had a small working office in the corner by the balcony that she had been lucky enough to score from this specific unit.

Harry looked around the place, his eyes feasting on every detail. "That can probably be arranged if I can be certain that you won't get mugged getting into your front door."

He noticed how lived in it felt—the opposite of the cool, modern, high-end penthouse he would resort to later that evening. Everything was painted a different color of beige, keeping the lightness of the empty place very noticeable.

There were photos on the walls, painting and portraits, there were words that resembled some of her favorite music and books. It was colorful and there were plants that were seemingly a bit out of control.

"The bathroom is right there, by the way." Felicity pointed, before Harry turned towards the small room to his left.

"Thanks." He stated before he moved into it and shut the door behind him.

It was the same reaction he had to the living room and kitchen; his eyes narrowed in on the details of the shower curtain and the small bottles of serum that sat along her sink. The way that her toothbrush was bright pink, matching the towels that hung on the wall.

There were delicate parts of her that he was certain she wouldn't have told him about because she didn't think that it mattered. But in the long run, he liked the bits of color and the pieces of art that hung next to her sink.

It was a detail he hadn't really thought about of her before.

When he had come back, he stared at her position in front of the sink. Her sleeves were rolled up as she washed a few dishes that had been sitting there. Her heels has been removed, but the jacket and the short skirt still hung from her delicate frame as he watched the way that she focused on a task.

She noticed that he was looking at her now before she gave a small smile and felt that he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

"I would offer you something to drink—I mean, I would offer you anything, but I'm not really," She looked around the kitchen. "I have coffee and vodka. And not like," She scrunched her brows together as she looked in her fridge. "Not good vodka. You would look down on me if I served you this, kind of vodka."

Harry let his smile tilt up a bit as he meandered into the small space of the kitchen. If she was offering him anything—

"You really think I'm that much of a snob?" He smirked.

Felicity huffed a little bit as she turned her head towards him, "The wine we drank tonight was $600 a bottle."

He doesn't say anything for a moment before he tilts his head a bit and shrugs off the comment. He wonders if she thinks of him differently—not for being her boss, but for having a high taste. Possibly the earlier of the two, too.

"I grew up that way, I guess. It's hard to decipher what's normal." He tries to explain to her, which makes her look at him with a mockery of a face. Her eyes roll with a smile, and he gives her a look of disdain.

She goes to respond to him, but instead he moves his body practically over top of her back to grab the vodka that sits on the second shelf of the fridge. It's a bottle that cost Felicity about $12.75 just the other week, and it has a good amount still left in it. Harry holds the neck of it in his hands before he looks at it and sets it down on the counter.

"Lemons? Juice? Anything?" He asks; taking the liberty himself to look through one of the cabinets to try and find himself a glass. Felicity stays still for a moment before she's able to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

Her boss—Harry Styles, CEO, is standing in her kitchen and trying to make himself a cocktail with her $12.75 vodka that she had bought at the bodega just a few days prior. He's perusing through the cabinets—the few that she had—before he turns to her.

"Uh, I have a bar cart." She tells him solidly, before she moves her way into the living room where the car sat. Her head is feeling fuzzy, and she wonders if adding the vodka to it will make her completely lose all faith in herself. She has a feeling it will make her say something absolutely ridiculous, to him of all people.

Felicity grabs the shaker, two glasses, a lemon from one of the small bowls that she uses for décor but also for moments like this and makes her way to the kitchen where Harry has already taken the ice trays out. When he looks back up at her, he nods back to where she came from, her eyes following his gaze.

"Go sit on the couch, let me make you a drink." He tells her, "You had a long week."

"I'm going to be completely honest with you," She folds her hands together before he looks at her with a bit of a concerned look, "I don't know if I like the roles reversed like this."

He gives her a smug smile before he turns back to what he had been doing previously; now filling up the shaker with ice before he poured a few seconds worth of vodka into it.

"You think I'm a stuck-up prick," He tells her, "Let me show you that I'm not, will you?"

The statement that he left on his lips settled in the air between them; Felicity blew it away as she breathed outwards and just nodded in place. She suddenly became a bit meek before she made her way back to the sofa where she settled into the cloudy cushions, sitting with her legs underneath of her as she tried not to flash anything from her skirt. She heard Harry mixing the cocktails in the glass shaker, shortly before coming out with two glasses in his hands.

He hands over a glass that looks solemnly... clear. Maybe a bit too clear, but she felt satisfied to know that he was trying his best to make a spot in her world. She didn't have to climb to his level, he was trying to stay at hers.

"To..." He trailed off as he held his glass up to her. The small loveseat that they sat on felt incredibly intimate all the sudden.

"To... London?" Felicity stated, "To having to be up tomorrow at five, but continuing to drink even though we can get to London."

Harry laughed at her words before he clinked his glass against hers, "To London."

The way that his accent wrapped itself around certain words held her attention briefly before she was able to take a sip of the cocktail he prepared. Strong wasn't the word; overkill may have been more like it.

"Holy fuck," She coughed softly before she felt a sting in her eyes, "That's—please never go into bartending."

A subtle look of offense took over his face as he went to take a sip of his own before he widened his eyes at the flavor of it. "Oh, shit. Yeah, wow. That—that'll do some damage."

Felicity started to laugh at his own reaction before she sat the drink down on the coffee table and watched Harry do the same.

"So, to brief then," She stated, "I believe that it's still true that you're just a stuck-up snob who can't do anything on his own, including making a cocktail."

Harry stood up for a moment but took offense to her comment. He started to remove his jacket, which only intrigued her—it meant he was staying a while longer. "Hey, to my defense, your fridge is very, very sad. There was not much I could have done to make this better. If you're going to drink vodka, at least buy a decent brand."

Felicity tucked the hair behind her ear, "I'm here to make vodka Sprite's, okay? Not martinis," She leaned against the back of the sofa, "And there you go again with being the rich snob."

It was annoying to her that he had decided to roll up his sleeve, just enough on his forearm that she was able to see the tattoos that weren't seen very often. Seldom, really. In the office, she would notice that he would be focusing on something in his office, his sleeve rolled up a bit, but that was the extent of it.

It seemed there were many more up his arm than she had initially thought, but she knew that she would never see them all.

When he went to sit down, he went to move the throw pillow behind his arm, but as he did so, he noticed something black against the white couch cushion.

Immediately, his fingers flew to the item before he lifted the lace that held his attention quite mesmerizingly. Felicity gasped at the realization before she grabbed them from his hands, absolutely mortified didn't even cut it.

"I'm so embarrassed," She finally spoke, almost trying to blame the redness of her cheeks on the strong beverage he gave her. She knew that it was the inflammation of her dignity, not the vodka.

There wasn't a word spoken before she watched that his expression changed surprisingly. He took a long sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down.

But the smile that follows from the cocktail is all she needs to see before she can smile back.

"You continue to surprise me," His words were placed with a package of slurring vocab before he swallows back anything else he'd say out of pocket, "I'm going to be very honest that I didn't imagine you as— I mean, I never imagined you in lace."

"You say that like you imagined me in something else." The words that came from Felicity weren't her own—she didn't know why she said them, but his quick rebuttal shut her up completely.

"Silk, probably," He uses his finger to touch the rim of the rocks glass that he's holding, where the condensation made a drip over the dress pants that situation themselves over his thighs, so lucky. "Or—I mean, you could surprise me even more," He went quick after a moment.

Silence. Protruding silence that is viciously capturing them in this haze of only breath that either of them can hear. It's uninterrupted until Harry leans his head back and the creaking on the sofa fills Felicity's head, rather than the idea of what's to come.

She had felt it before; the warranted tension that Harry seemed to have over her. Maybe it was her fault for leaning into it, but sometimes, she just couldn't help it. The way that he found himself taken by her was just unspoken most of the time. She was surprised that he wouldn't have pulled anything at dinner, but she could fill in the blanks as she invited him up to her apartment.

It was inevitable, she thought.

She shouldn't have done that, but should not's were not what she was thinking about as she drowned herself in the alcoholic state of the sour vodka that wafted of lemon juice and baited words.

Instead, Felicity blinked a few times, watching as he stared at the ceiling. The blankness of the pure white ceiling seemed to keep him grounded before she watched his jaw tighten.

"You're full of surprises, a lot of mystery, you know?" Harry breathed out. The tie around his neck was getting tight, but he couldn't loosen it now—if he was being honest, it was adding to the pleasure of the moment. He wouldn't speak that out, but while the tightness caused a bit of discomfort, he thought of it in other instances. "I'm not sure I can keep up with it."

There was an unresolved tension in the words he spoke, maybe even a bit of slur in them before Felicity followed suit; her head resting practically next to his as she stared at the blank white ceiling that had very little to memorize or stare at.

"What fun is a mystery if it's solved?"

He wasn't sure if she saw—he wasn't sure if she saw the way that his eyes fluttered at the thought of uncovering every instance of mystery that she kept hidden away, in this small apartment. The air was starting to become lost on them, feeling like the oxygen was being pulled as he breathed. The shakiness of his breath was caught by her when she turned her head—she wished that she hadn't.

All she could process was the way that his eyes stared upwards, lips parted in an unsure manner before she watched his eyebrows knit in a deep thought that she couldn't seem to interpret. But this pique of interest held her as she kept her eyes on him—he could feel every deep breath that she tried to mask.

"I don't know if you knew this about me," He quietly stated, "But I really can't handle the unknown."

It was then that his head turned towards her; the distance between them was much shorter than he could have thought. He didn't notice until his eyes directly moved towards the way that her lips curved in the small bow, the one that he had known so well from the number of times that he couldn't keep his eyes from her. But this was different; this held much more tension that he couldn't believe.

This time he could smell the liquor that lingered on her lips that mixed so well with the cherry of the chapstick that he knew she applied generously. He would watch the way that it slid over the lips as he sat at his desk and wondered what was on her mind.

"You're very good at getting what you want," Felicity breathed, watching as he shut his eyes for a moment. It was as if with every word she spoke, he was closer and closer to the edge of something great.

Her eyes traveled to the way that his legs sat just open—they were just waiting for someone to notice. Felicity swallowed at the idea of sitting between them, on her knees. Sitting there with her eyes laying on him; he took notice of her tense shoulders and her harbored through before he sat up just a bit. He scooted himself back on the sofa—Felicity blinked at the way that he invited her with just the flicker of his eyes.

No words needed to be spoken when the look could speak for itself, but the way that he speaks breaks the barrier of silence.

"How good am I at getting what I want?"

The heavy eyes that she held were only staring at his lips and the way that he spoke—the flicker of his tongue over the satin maroon of his lips. She couldn't contain herself, because she knew that his aura was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen it up close and personal; she knew that everything that he did was because he was in it one hundred percent.

He didn't half-ass anything—not a report, not a phone call, not a meeting, not a thought.

Everything Harry did was with the full intensive purpose of being the only thing on someone's mind, body, and soul.

Felicity trembled in the spot next to him, but her legs urged to move themselves. Her brain wasn't moving as fast as her decisions; and in an instant, her knees lowered to the spot in front of him. Her hands settling on the thick of his thigh as she allowed her eyes to hold his. For a moment, hesitation crossed his face, but she could have mistaken it for vulnerability.

The way that he breathed outwards was enough to make her gain the strength of a thousand horses—the talk that he talked wasn't as strong now, she felt a sensibility of pure radiance from her actions.

"I'd say you're the best at it, really." She let her hands settle on his thighs, but she took them away so she could drop the blazer down her arms. The tight white t-shirt settled against her frame as he watched the way that she pushed her brunette locks from her shoulders.

But his being felt incredibly taken by the way that she slowly moved—she wanted to savor every moment of this, he could tell that she was being critical, slow, and putting together each piece of herself in front of him.

That's what he thought at least, until he recognized that there was a tremble in her hand when she went to grab at the belt buckle, he barred. His hand flew to hers when she touched it; almost annoyed at himself by the look of terror that he was faced with as he knew that she had felt pushed away at that.

Instead, he pulled at her to stand up in front of him, between his legs. She did so with ease but a bit of confusion laid on her face as she stood with her hands by her side, Harry's eyes dancing along the figure—the divots in her thighs, the way the skirt just held to her so beautifully.

He let out a whimpering sound before he let his hand fall to the tightness of the front of his pants. Instantly, the pleasure trigger was pulled, and he knew what he had gotten himself into now had to be completed. It had to—he never did anything half-assed.

"Go put your heels on," He instructed her, watching as she stared at him willingly.

"A please would be nice." She tutted back, letting her lip fall into the curve of a smile.

Instantly, she knew that this wasn't a game anymore—this wasn't a fun, hushed little game of pleasure with nobody watching. She knew that the way that his eyes changed at the blink of an eye, the way that his jaw tightened at the statement: and the clear smirk on her lips faded.

"I'm not asking you," He sat up a bit, "I'm telling you."

Felicity had been used to being spoken as such; her memory fading into a moment, but her barriers kept up as she understood that her body was reacting only to the way that the words flowed from his mouth. She knew there was safety in his tone, she could see it by the way that he had stared at her with these stolen glances all night.

Instead, she followed his direction, moving back towards the door until she placed the black heels onto her feet again. They hurt just a bit from wearing them all day, she had to admit. But they made her stand taller, firmer against the fake wood flooring of her apartment. She wondered why the downstairs neighbors would think, as it became later at night.

"Come here," He told her, holding her wrist when she got close enough. He pulled her back to the place in front of him. She stood taller now, his nose practically at her bellybutton as she watched the way that he pulled her close.

Now, his hands lay on the outside of her hips, the sides of her thighs. She shuddered at the feeling, knowing that this was the first time she had been touched by him in such a manner. The musky scent of teakwood and spice drifted from the curls that settled against his forehead, she was sure of it. She could feel the heat of his breath just above where she needed him most as she stood close to him, right between his legs as he sat on the sofa.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this?" He practically choked on his words, quiet, "So fucking beautiful."

She breathed out a shaky breath, holding onto every ounce of madness that she had collected over the past few moments.

"How many?" She asked him. Harry stood up, letting her take a step back as she felt the prominence of him now-- how he was a bit taller, even with her heels on. Every part of her ached—so unfamiliar to her, this feeling of need and want. It was a sensation of desperation that she hadn't known before; her inner monologue was flooded with dangerous prose as she felt his fingers cradled onto her jaw.

"More times than I'd ever be able to count." He told her, his voice deep and sharp as he pushed his hips forward. She walked backward a few steps, he followed in her lead like a waltz before he pushed her pelvis into the wall, holding it there with his own.

"You're going to be my good girl tonight, aren't you, Felicity?" His words were practically a whimper as he let his lips slide along her own; the tremble of her quivering lips made him shake in his own anticipation. "You love to listen, hm? That's why you're always taking my orders and assisting me? Getting paid to do what I say?"

It was always obvious by the pink of her cheeks and the timid ways of her soul that Harry could see right through her. From the moment she arrived on the job to the way that she completed everything task with ease; every job, every plan he needed executed, she followed in righteous order.

It made him proud, to say the least. She ran the company better than he did most days, but she didn't get half the recognition.

Until now, surely.

Her eyes nearly roll back into her head at the foul play of his words; the way that his eyes follow down the path of her lips, his thumb mapping the path down her chin before he grabbed it between his thumb and index finger.

The villainous smirk on his lips can't be seen by how close they are now.

"Does saying 'Yes, Mr. Styles' make you wet, Miss Carter?"

The question rolled off his tongue as he watched her minuscule behaviors; the way that she practically shivered against the wall made his eyes move to the way that her knees bent in just a bit.

His mouth turned up to the side as he realized that his was right yet again.

Felicity groaned in the back of her throat as she let it tip against the wall. He was practically on top of her by the way that he stood, his knee was pushing her knees apart before she was able to protest any of it. Not that she would've; she knew that it was about to turn into an evening that she couldn't have truly imagined if you had asked her just hours before.

"You're getting shy on me, again?" He remarked, but this time, it was paired with some loose kisses along her neck as he used his hand to cradle her jaw enough that she was pressing into it with ease. "What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Felicity ached as she breathed—her body pressured against the wall was her own doing, practically to keep herself from overwhelming herself. If she leaned into him too much, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." She bit her lip at the words coming off her tongue.

She could feel that the instant gratification that came from him was filtered through the stare that he barred towards her; the way that his nose brushed against the lobe of her ear as he practically fell into her graces with three simple words.

Harry groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him then; her brain sparked a few times, trying to remember how it felt before this. How reality felt. This wasn't reality in the slightest; this was a dream.

"Tell me," He urges her, "What was his name?"

She lets her eyes wash over his face as she notices that his strength and need have put him into a trance of pleasure and further need.

"Who?" She questions.

"The guy," He lets his lip gently caress right between her chin and lip. "The guy you were supposed to see tonight."

Felicity remembered how the evening was supposed to go—her interest completely lost in that game, when this one seemed a bit more daring and fun. It felt that she was seen here; like she had been stared at for quite some time, ogled, maybe.

"Uh, S-Sam." She choked out as she felt the way that his hand pinched at the small of her waist, almost like he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.

He hummed softly before he tipped her head back, the simple press of his nose moving her head against the wall. "Fucking loser."

Her mouth instantly felt his—a righteous moment of complete satisfaction bundled beneath her. It was the first time that his lips had laid into hers, moving gently against one another as they fit perfectly in sync. It wasn't too rough—just enough to know that she was in the hands of someone who knew what she was asking just by the way that his body moved. He could read her body and react to the fact that her chest may have been pressed against the wall a bit too much, so he pulled back to give her room to breathe.

The way that they flew through her bedroom door was just as shocking to her as it was to him; it made a much larger noise than she anticipated as they practically flew over the threshold and into the creamy white sheets of her—thankfully—made bed.

He landed on top of her in the heat of the moment. Their lips stayed attached through it all, almost like they were making up for all the lost time over the years. His tongue gently caressed over her top lip, which elicited quite a whine of surprise from her.

Her hands flew to his necktie, trying to loosen it before Harry grabbed her wrist—hard enough that she barked out a whimper.

"No," He told her sharply, watching as she hesitated underneath him. Now her hair was feathered out against the bedspread, her light eyes were catching every glimpse of her. After a moment, he looked at her softly, knowing that she didn't understand the game that he was about to play.

"We are going to play by my rules tonight," He told her, watching as she pushed herself up towards the headboard. He followed her lead, letting her hands rest on the back of his head as she tried to kiss every inch down her neck. "And I have a few notes you need to take, got it?"

Felicity tried her best to stabilize her breath as she was given a moment away from their lips touching to catch it. She licked over her lips, feeling her heart pounding along her chest before she nodded against the bed and the linen comforter that laid underneath them.

Harry sat up, his hair a bit of a mess, the clothes on his body were practically ripped from the front where they had been neatly tucked. The growing need for her was obvious as he felt the tip of his cock struggling beneath the waistband of his belt. The friction made it quite hard to concentrate on what his plans had been, but he knew that he had to be firm with his requests.

"First," He instructed, "The safe word is poetry."

Felicity's eyes stared at him with quiet focus as she nodded a few times to try and understand that. She hadn't ever been with someone who needed to use a safe word in any sexual act, so she struggled to wrap her brain around what that could have possibly meant. But her actions continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around his biceps to try to bring him back to earth. The idea that he had to bring it up intrigued her.

"Second," He pulled at the necktie around his own before he loosened it enough to grab and throw off of his own neck. His hands moved to place it around her own, helping to move the hair from her neck so that it could rest comfortably around her own. "I like to use props. Are you okay with that?"

Felicity felt her heart beating steadily in her chest for a few seconds before she nodded her head. He watched the innocence completely take over her face as he smirked at the all-knowing tale of it.

"Third," He bit on his lip as he moved down to let their foreheads rest along each other, "I need to hear you—no nodding or shaking your head. Consent makes me feel good. And when I feel good," He kissed her once again, a quick one this time, before his voice quieted so that it was just between them. "You'll feel even better. Okay?"

Felicity breathed in a deep breath before she tried to use the voice that had been drifting away from her. She didn't feel in her body like an echo of a voice had started to take over instead of her words. But she let out a rasp of a word, "Okay."

Harry nodded a few times, knowing that with her eyes, he would be able to continue, but only if he was able to talk her through every part of it. He didn't know her experience level or what she was comfortable with, but he knew how to make pleasure the only thing that would be on her mind for weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last time he got the opportunity.

"This is—uh," She looked at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot for starting to speak before she shook her head, and watched Harry give her a look of confusion. "No, sorry. Nevermind."

"What is it?" He questioned, hoping that something he had said hadn't scared her away. She took in a breath as she thought about how the wording could anger him—maybe it would stop whatever was happening, which she didn't want to happen now that they were in the midst of it all.

"I—uh, I mean, like, are you okay with this?" She asked quietly before pushing up on her elbows. "I—do I have like, sign something?"

Harry raised in brows in a bit of a humorous way that only made her cheeks grow red with shame at her silly question—in all honesty, it wasn't silly, but Harry was giving her a hard time about it, anyway. He bit on his lip as he felt the smile that was threatening to overcome his entire face.

"Am I supposed to be worried that you're going to tell the Daily Mail that I have a huge cock?"

"Harry!" She covered her eyes, floating back onto the comforter, "Nevermind—maybe I'll tell them it's small, though, if you don't stop being mean. I'm just trying to protect you."

"Aw," He tutted, putting his thumb over her bottom lip, but his eyes had grown a bit darker—the way that they had been a bit earlier. It was almost an illicit reaction; the way that he spoke to her, was so filthy with each word spoken that made her melt into the bed. "Dare you to say that to my face when you're choking on it," He pressed his hips into hers then, knowing that she would react to it. Hers moved upwards into him, just as he had intended, "I'm not worried about an NDA in the slightest bit."

In a teasing manner, she scrunched her nose and playfully spat back, "What if I tried to steal all of your money?"

He pressed his hands next to her head on the bed, letting her eyes look directly into his as he spoke, hoping his voice didn't falter: "You can have it all. Take it."

Something about it should have made Felicity giggle—almost like they were joking around. But there was a way that his sincerity felt more like a proposition than a source to cut the tension of their achingly needing bodies against one another.

Her body seemed to enjoy the way that he stated the smooth words, as she let her hands fall into the brunette curls that settled on the back of his neck. It didn't take long for her to pull him closer, letting her lips graze over him in such a frustrating manner. She was completely built up, her could feel the way that her thighs trembled against him.

Pushing her legs open, Harry pushed the hem of her skirt up her hips so that he could find a home between them. In doing so, flashing the baby pink of her lace panties only let his blood flow faster and faster.

"I bet you've soaked those, hm?" He tuts, pressing his nose into her cheek ask he lets his hand knowingly move to the place he speaks of, knowing that he's right. Again. "Sam doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"

The teasing was becoming a bit too much for her—waiting for his fingers to move faster, she moved her hips a bit to try and get herself the pleasure she was trying to search so desperately for from him.

Harry notices the way that she tries to squirm, and he smirks at the reaction he's giving her; knowing that within every inch of her is building up a tension that will release. It will be like a dam that overflows—a satisfaction that will be so worthy of the cost of admission. He can't help but notice, can't help but watch her need.

He can't help but know that he's going to fuck her into an oblivion so dark, the stars will be lost in space. She doesn't know that yet.

Instead of being mean, he decides it might be better for him to give her what she needs—what she's been so kindly asking him for with her pretty hips and her pretty lips.

"On your knees," He tells her, watching as she moves underneath him. She wiggles around until she's on her stomach; the necktie gets him harder as he watches it dangle from her neck like the apple in Eden. Every part of him wants to take the bite—not yet, oh, not yet.

When she does this, her back arches upwards, and Harry's knees settle on the bed as he hovers above her and watches the way that she submits to him. Every word he says she listens—he can barely handle it anymore.

In an instant, his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, pushing it up to fully show the outline of her ass in the cheeky pink lace. It's always been known to him that she would wear something so pitifully scandalous under those black skirts, but he couldn't have imagined it would be like this.

Her pretty face has been folded into the creamy duvet, waiting for the touch of him to send her into an implosion.

All he wanted was to taste her—to make all of the thoughts he had prior feel like they were significant and they were able to be adhered to. He wanted to make her feel like she was the most special person on the planet; like she could feel every inch of him, and she would be thriving in that thought for the end of time.

This may be a one-time occurrence, and he wanted to marvel in it. He wanted her to enjoy what she didn't know could be.

Harry's hands pulled at the pink lace, wondering how lucky he was to be able to enjoy this sight—and what a sight. The wetness of her folds only made him salivate; made his hungry eye a darker shade of green before he dove his tongue directly into her, licking up the mess he had already made of her.

The soft whimpers turned into moans as she practically lurched forward—the initiation hardly bearable as she scrunched her eyes at the feeling of pleasure. The warmth and invite of his tongue pressed against her, lapping her up and into a pitiful puddle. When she felt the nudge of his finger, she gasped at the feeling of him; the duo of his tongue and finger sang together in harmony like a choir of angels.

"Oh, fuck," She quietly moaned out, holding herself on her elbows as she grabbed at her pillow for a bit of leverage. She felt him hum into her, his nose gently brushing against her as he pushed her ass up to get further towards her clit which hungered for his touch, as did his tongue.

The taste of her replenished him, making his heartbeat faster as he felt the stringent feeling of tightness along the dress pants that held him in. Without letting his tongue go without, he used his hand to swiftly throw the belt from the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and without another thought.

"Fuck, you taste like I thought you would. So fucking sweet." He stated, pushing her ass out of the way when he pulled back. He threw her down onto the bed so that she would be looking up at him. The girl was fully dressed still, just with her skirt pushed up—underwear a bit haphazardly thrown to the side. The rose-colored cheeks threw him as he used his hands to pull the skirt down her thighs.

"Get naked." He ordered, watching as Felicity's hands moved to throw the t-shirt from her body as he requested, leaving her in her panties and bra. Harry threw the white button-down of his from his chest; Felicity got a bit distracted by the way that the tattoos generously scattered over his body. She swallowed back her intimidation as she held herself up on her elbows.

In a swift motion, her panties and bra were thrown onto the ground, leaving her in just the necktie like Harry had ordered for her. She hadn't even quite noticed that he had been rid of his own clothes, her eyes wandering down but not wanting to stare as she noticed that the smirk on his face was ever present.

"Think it's still small?" He asked, with a chuckle as he pulled at her knees, moving her down towards him.

"Maybe smaller than I'm used to." She played back, biting her lip at the intrigue of how he'd react. His arms grabbed at her waist before he threw himself down onto the bed.

"Ride me, then. If you think you can take it as good as you say." His words spit out before Felicity could think too much. It had been a while she had been in this situation, with a guy in her place, at least. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, Harry nodding in appreciation for the gesture.

Her hunger and desire for this became a bit more active as she was now in the driver's seat, moving and manipulating her body to sit across his lap. If she would lie, she would say that it was smaller than average. But unfortunately, she was taught to always tell the truth.

It was much bigger—especially as he rubbed his hand down himself, a gasp of air baiting out of his lips before he looked up at her in a state that could only resemble pleasure.

Harry rolled the condom down his length, watching as she settled into his lap. Her legs settle on either side of him before he looks up at her. The blazing fuzziness of his mind from the liquor has started to cease and is replaced with a hunger of desire for the brunette instead.

"Pretty, pretty." He tells her, watching as she looks antsy enough to move, but he pulls her down to kiss her, anyways. It's a moment that he knows he's taking away from her, but he needs some form of interaction from her. A small detail of need that overcomes him.

His hands steady her hips above him, holding his cock up to her entrance before he watches her hips move down to encapsulate him all—her movements are slow as she throws her head back in an unsurmountable pleasure that she quite practically leans forward against him to catch herself from falling.

"Fuck," He grunts, shutting his eyes just at the way that the blood moves directly to his cock at the feeling of her wetness. She's completely drenched and open and ready which makes her so sensitive and barely capable of words at this point.

Her hands steady herself, holding onto his chest as he allows her to take the lead on what she needs. But he can tell from the look on her face that she's having quite a hard time collecting herself—almost like she's quite unsure of what to do with the power that he's given her to be on top. It's not him pitying her, but him wanting her to enjoy the experience.

So, maybe, in another life, this can happen again.

"Baby," He choked out, shaking his head at the way that he knew it was the wrong choice of words, "Felicity—let me," He grabbed the small of her waist as he sat up quickly. His arms pivoted them so that he could throw them back around on the bed. It wasn't to take anything away from her, but to give to her more than she was giving to herself.

"Let me do this, yeah?" He joked with her, letting his lips kiss along hers, biting and nipping and finding small ways of showing her that the softness of him was still there even in the darkened eyes and furious gasps.

His body readjusted, his hips pushing into her in a more fluid motion. This got her to gasp, a breathy one that he liked hearing—those were the ones that were out of pure pleasure and satisfaction; ones that he felt drunk on.

In a way, this felt a lot different than before. The overhead light of her bedroom was soft; there was a significant dimness to it. He wasn't sure if it was because the room was small, but it felt like there was a intimacy that he had been missing before. His eyes tilted upwards to the paintings and lines of movie quotes that lined along her bedroom wall. There were framed simply and held color and brightness to the space, which distracted him for only a moment before he was able to lay against her.

The necktie around her took his focus back.

"I'm going to play with you a bit, is that alright?" He asked her softly, biting at his lip before he found himself pressing into her hips. His hands grabbed at the necktie before letting them start to tighten it around her neck. " 'Member you words, hm?"

Felicity whimpered out at the coax; nodding her head, "Please—please."

Harry sat up at the request, happy that she was using her words in this sense. He readied himself; thinking of what he needed to think about to try to get himself to a different place. He didn't want to cum too quickly; his cock was barely holding on as it was. The friction of her sweet wetness was enough to make him fold again and again and again.

His fist moved to grip at the knot of the tie, pushing it upwards until it hit at her chin. She raised her head, almost to give way to the pressure that it held against her. She was only briefly capable of speaking a few words, but she was taken with pleasure at the way that her breathing was manipulated.

"Breath play," Harry practically reads her mind as his hip's diver deeper into her. The feeling of her legs at his ribs, practically around his body as he feels the back of her ankle into his back. "Your words, baby."

Felicity took a deep breath; Harry moved his hand so that she could take it in more. He wanted her to feel the wooziness, the daydream-like feeling of the high that it could bring her. He wanted this moment to be special, for her to remember that she was in the most requitting love affair. That she was taken care of, adored, seen.

At the end of the day, Harry wanted to make sure that her jaw was cradled, her lips were kissed, her eyes were stared into, and her breath was taken away.

His hips snapped further, her moan sounded like a small mew before he sat up a bit straighter, loosening his hand on the tie before he grabbed at both of her hips. His hand moved to maneuver over her clit, thumb drawing a star over top of it to which she squirmed in sensitivity. He smirked at the way that she held softly against him before he let a dribble of spit land directly on her, smearing the wetness to coat her.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He stated, the blown-out pupils of them both had them reeling—he noticed he had really neglected parts of her that he had wanted to remember, but he also knew that there was a significant need that they were both needing to fill. He knew that this was just inevitable fucking from weeks—months, really—of built-up tension that they both needed to get out of their system.

"I—I want more," She nodded, her voice quiet and barely above a mumble before their eyes made contact.

He felt that she was a bit, for lack of a better word, fucked. Her eyes were a bit droopy, she may have been trying to cover up how much she really drank, but her effervescent neediness was going to haunt him forever.

"I can give you more," He nodded, "I can give you so much fucking more." His hips snapped forward, again and again and again—her headboard hitting the wall every time he did so. Their breath heavy and their eyes connected as he did so.

"Such a pretty little fuck," He lifted her leg up from around his waist before he gave her knee a gentle kiss. "I'm so hard, fuck."

The fully natured nudity of their bodies was new for him—it was usually very quick, especially when they would come to his. But this was significantly more intimate; he wanted to spend this time with her. He liked that they decided to do it this way.

She could feel the tightening of the rubber band that was about to snap. It had been building with every swipe of his thumb, the way that his tongue had gently nudged at her clit; the way he had plunged forward with every deep thrust. She was impressed with the way that he moved her body to be able to hit at her spot every single time. He had studied her, watched what she did—how she reacted.

"I'm—fuck," He pulled himself forward, letting his head drop as he fell into her touch. This was new; her hands on his shoulders, the way that they moved into his hair and down his neck. "Poetry, okay?" He reminded her softly before he kissed her lips.

What happened after that could have been a blur—to Felicity, she wasn't entirely sure if she could remember it all. His hand gripped around the tie of her neck, pulling softly so she felt a dizzy sensation.

"Fuck—fuck, Harry, I'm cumming—fuck." Her teeth bit so sharply on her lip that she was afraid it might rupture the skin; the taste of blood would come soon afterwards, but her reality was set in the pleasure kingdom that Harry's hips created for her.

It was dizzying how he snapped his hips upwards, hitting her every single time. The pressure of his thumb over her clit sent her into an overdrive; letting her walls completely break, the dam overflowed, flooding. The orgasm over taking her sent him into a state of pure shock and adrenaline, snapping his hips a few more times before he felt the absolute relief.

Her eyes shut; Harry lurched forward as he fell into the grip of her hands. It was a feeling of falling that he genuinely believed were cloud-like.

For a moment, he wondered if they would ever slow their breathing down. He wondered if the sound of her heart beating against his was real-life or just a fantasy. It may have been an orgasmic-induced dream.

The puzzle piece form of the two of them let him settle nicely into her; his nose poked at the skin of her neck, which he may or may not have left a mark or two on.

In the solemness of the air, his breathing finally evened out.

___________

"Are we cleared for take-off, Mr. Styles?"

The noise jolts him a bit, he wouldn't lie.

Harry clears his throat as he opens his eyes which have been hidden by the sunglasses that have settled on his face. He readjusts in the seat before he looks around the small jet plane that had been chartered for their adventure.

It was early, approaching on seven in the morning. His sleep had been nonexistent until that small nap that he had gotten himself before being woken up by the pilot.

"Uh," He swallows, trying to make it seem that he was more awake than he was.

"I believe that we're all here." Laura states to the pilot before she gives him a tight smile. She returns to looking at her cellphone, lowering her hands into her lap as she continues to scroll through what's possibly an email.

Harry looks around the small jet, watching, searching... wondering.

He blinks a few times to try to imagine if there's a reality where what had occurred last night was working against him—he had hoped that she hadn't been scared off, that she hadn't run away at the idea of what this weekend could possibly hold.

Not that it was going to happen all the time, certainly not. But he wondered if there could be a next time—he wondered if she would have liked that. It turns out, with the no show to the work trip that she had been informed on that—

"I'm sorry."

The sweet tone of the voice carries through the plane before he turns his body in the single chair to look at where it had been coming from. Coming up the steps, being greeted by the stewardess, a smiling face that had her sunglasses pushed into her hair—a pair of black yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cardigan sweater overtop.

He watches as she takes her bag, feeling uncomfortable by the stewardess taking it from her before she gives her a tight smile and settles into walking towards the back. The plane isn't large, but it feels incredible big when he is waiting for her to approach him.

Their eyes meet and she gives him a tight smile before greeting the others on the plane. The seat directly in front of Harry isn't taken. Go figure. Her hands are full—holding her purse, a bag that most likely has something to eat for a breakfast, a coffee, and—

"Your dry-cleaning," Felicity handed the back to him before she took her seat that sat directly across from him in the small private jet that had seemingly felt much smaller as she took in how close he was to her now, "Mr. Styles."

The flicker of her eyes to his—the way that her hair had been blown dry, bouncing with curls, the freshness of her toned-down makeup to allow the texture of her skin to show with the subtlety of the glow.

Even in the early morning hours, even though he had just left her a few hours prior, even though they had both had less than a few good hours of sleep—she still looked like she was greeting him at heaven's pearly gates.

When the bag was unzipped to check that everything had been added, his eyes fell along the purple necktie that he had unnervingly left at the edge of her bed the night prior; he must had run out of the door of her apartment without it. His eyes glanced at the way that the small item drifted over the white button-down.

It was familiar, of course, because it had been the one that he was wearing yesterday when he had entered her apartment but left without it in his hands or around his neck. He cleared his throat at the sight, knowing that it was a nod to him and only him. When he sat them down across his lap, his eyes landed on her again—the casualty of her smirk was harrowing now.

"Mr. Styles, are we waiting on anyone else?" The pilot had come back towards the rows now, to ensure that everything would have been cleared for the take-off. Harry looked back at him, and shook his head without another doubt, but a solidly aching feeling in his chest as he barred the words back at him.

"No, I—I'm not waiting for anyone else, at least." He looked up at the girl in front of him, "I'm good."

The pilot got the plane ready for departure; Felicity stared at the window as she tried to take in the experience, knowing that the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her would be able to be given a final rest when she leaned against the window.

But, for the time being, she liked being able to rest in the light of Harry's stare as he couldn't take his eyes from her.

The plane, the job, the clothes, the dinner—none of it mattered when the view in front of him was something that money would never be able to buy.

____________________

hiiiii!!

happy tortured poets department day, here's a one-shot <3

just a little fun one hehe, almost 20k words is so much for me, so thank you for reading this!

love u as always

- emily

2K notes · View notes

scarluna · 2 months ago

Text

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII

Chapters: 1 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

ACT I.

I adjusted my blazer for what felt like the millionth time, catching my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors. It wasn’t like me to fuss over what I was wearing, but this wasn’t just another job. It was Jeon Enterprises, one of the most prestigious companies in the world, and I was walking straight into the lion’s den.

The blazer was professional, fitted just right. At least, I hoped it was. The material hugged my body in ways that made me overly aware of every curve, but I had told myself over and over this morning: You’re here because you’re good at what you do, not because of how you look.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I stepped onto the executive floor and immediately felt small. Everything screamed luxury. The floors gleamed, the walls were adorned with minimalist art, and the light streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows made the space feel impossibly big.

“Greetings,” the receptionist greeted me with a perfect smile. Her sleek ponytail and impeccable outfit made me feel like I’d rolled out of bed. “Mr. Jeon is expecting you. His office is straight ahead and to the left.”

“Thank you,” I managed to mutter under my braeth, clutching my portfolio like it was a shield.

Every step down the hallway felt heavier than the last. I’d heard the rumors about Jeon Jungkook. Everyone had. The man was a genius, sure, but he was also ruthless, arrogant, and an unapologetic womanizer. He had the kind of power and charm that let him get away with it, too.

I knocked on the massive wooden door at the end of the hallway, my heart pounding like a drum.

“Come in,” came a deep voice from the other side.

I pushed the door open and stepped into a room that felt like the command center of an empire. Jungkook sat behind a sleek glass desk, flipping through a stack of papers. For a second, he didn’t even look up.

When he did, I nearly forgot how to breathe. Okay, Y/N, you got this. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Jungkook looked like trouble in the most devastating way. His jet-black hair was perfectly tousled, his sharp jawline seemed carved from stone, and his dark eyes locked onto mine like they could see right through me. The tattoos peeking out from the collar of his white button-up shirt only added to the effect.

“You’re late,” he said, leaning back in his chair. It was as if he was seeing right through me with his eyes. I felt uneasy.

I blinked. “I… I was told the meeting was at nine.”

“It’s 9:01.” His lips curved into a lazy smirk. “I don’t like people who waste my time.”

I swallowed the sharp reply rising in my throat. Instead, I forced a polite smile. “I’ll be sure to set my watch ahead next time, Mr. Jeon.”

His smirk deepened, and he gestured to the chair across from him. “Have a seat. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I sat down, carefully placing my portfolio on the desk. The tension in the room was suffocating, but I opened the folder and spread out the designs I’d spent days perfecting. “These are the concepts I’ve prepared based on the rebranding brief.”

Jungkook didn’t even glance at the papers right away. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes sweeping over me like I was part of the presentation.

“You don’t look like the typical designer we hire,” he said, his tone casual but cutting. His eyes roamed over my blazer, and then focused back to my eyes. I wanted to hide so bad.

My jaw tightened, but I kept my voice steady. “And you don’t look like the typical CEO.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe—but then he laughed. A low, quiet sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Touché,” he said, finally picking up one of the designs.

The silence stretched as he studied my work. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure he could hear it. This job wasn’t just a step up for me—it was a chance to prove that I belonged here, even if every glance from him made me feel like I didn’t.

“This one’s decent,” he said at last, holding up one of the logos. “But it’s missing… something.”

“What kind of something?” I asked, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“Danger. Boldness. It needs to make people stop and stare.” He set the paper down and leaned back again, his smirk returning. “Think you can deliver that?”

I straightened my shoulders, even as my palms felt sweaty. “I can deliver exactly what you need.”

His smirk widened, but there was something darker behind it now, something that made me feel like he enjoyed the challenge. “We’ll see, Y/N. Welcome to Jeon Enterprises. Try not to disappoint me.”

As I left his office, my hands were still trembling. Jungkook Jeon was everything the rumors said and more—arrogant, sharp, and utterly infuriating. I was here for a week already and this was my first time meeting him. I noticed he didn't introduce himself, and it was probably because he knew the influence he had on others and he was aware that people knew him. Here I was, being delusional that this company was treating their employes with care. How much I was lied to at that damn job interview? I had to get this through. It was my dream job.

Jungkook himself had an intimidating aura. But he wasn’t going to intimidate me. Not yet, anyway.

My first day at Jeon Enterprises started like any other, with a carefully curated outfit and a bundle of nerves. But by noon, I’d already realized that fitting in here would be like trying to squeeze into a size too small—it wasn’t going to happen smoothly.

It began with Tina.

Tina was my direct manager, the person who would oversee my work and, apparently, my every move. I hadn’t been in the bullpen of the design department for five minutes before she sauntered over, heels clicking against the polished floor like a countdown to doom.

“Y/N, right?” she said, her voice oozing faux warmth as her sharp blue eyes scanned me from head to toe.

“Yes, that’s me.” I smiled, trying to come across as approachable.

Tina didn’t return the gesture. Instead, she crossed her arms, her fitted designer dress emphasizing a figure that belonged on a billboard. Her blonde hair was swept into an effortless bun, and her makeup looked flawless, like she’d just stepped out of a high-end commercial.

“Cute,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk. “Well, welcome to the team. I’ll be honest with you—Jeon Enterprises isn’t for everyone. Things move fast here, and we don’t have time to coddle anyone.”

I nodded. “I’m ready to work hard.”

She raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Good. Because I won’t tolerate sloppy work or excuses. If you can’t keep up, you won’t last long.”

Her words stung, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Understood.”

“Great,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll let you get settled. Just make sure you don’t need too much hand-holding. Mr. Jeon has a thing for perfection, and I’d hate for your mistakes to reflect on me.”

Before I could reply, Tina turned on her heel and strode away, her confidence practically leaving a trail behind her.

A few hours later, I realized that Tina wasn’t just sharp with me—she was sharp with everyone. But when it came to Jungkook, her demeanor shifted.

The first time I saw them interact was during a brief meeting in the design area. Jungkook had stopped by unexpectedly, his presence sucking the air out of the room. Conversations died, heads turned, and people suddenly looked very busy with their screens.

Tina, however, wasn’t fazed.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said, her tone smooth as silk. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a move that felt almost rehearsed. “What a surprise. Did you come to check on our progress?”

Jungkook barely glanced at her. “Just passing through,” he said, his voice cool and detached.

But Tina wasn’t deterred. She stepped closer, her smile turning brighter. “If you have a moment, I could go over some of the new concepts we’ve been working on. I’d love your input.”

I watched from my desk as Jungkook’s gaze flicked to her, then to the designs she held out like an offering.

“No need,” he said, his tone as dismissive as it was polite. “That’s what I hired you for.”

Tina’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but she recovered quickly. “Of course. I just want to make sure everything aligns with your vision.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes scanned the room, landing on me. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, but I swore there was a flicker of amusement. Then he turned back to Tina.

“Carry on,” he said, already walking away.

Tina’s smile vanished the second he was out of earshot. She tossed the papers onto her desk with a huff, muttering something under her breath that I couldn’t catch.

She caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, newbie?”

“No, just…” I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “It seems like Mr. Jeon has high expectations.”

Tina snorted, crossing her arms. “High expectations? Please. He’s impossible to please unless it’s on his terms. But don’t get too comfortable, Y/N. He has a way of making even the most confident people feel inadequate.”

Her words felt like a warning, but I couldn’t help but notice the frustration laced with something else—something personal.

She wanted him. That much was obvious. And judging by the way Jungkook hadn’t given her more than a passing glance, it was equally obvious that he didn’t want her.

It wasn’t comforting, exactly, but it did make me wonder: What did Jungkook Jeon want?

I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough.

I left the executive's floor in haze, my head spinning from everything he’d said—and everything he hadn’t said. The moment I stepped out of the elevator and into the main lobby, the weight of the building seemed to come crashing down on me. I had just had my first meeting with him, the infamous Jeon Jungkook.

I couldn’t decide if I should be excited or terrified. Maybe both? I certainly wasn’t expecting him to be so… blunt. But that was Jungkook—no pleasantries, just cold, sharp efficiency wrapped in a dangerously attractive package. He hadn’t even tried to sugarcoat it when he said, “Try not to disappoint me.”

I shook my head, trying to shake off the sting of his words.

I could already feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, the quiet murmur of the office that seemed louder as I made my way through the hallways. I just needed to breathe.

Lunch. I should grab lunch.

But even as the idea of food settled in my mind, the thought of stepping into the cafeteria was daunting. The last thing I wanted was to deal with the cafeteria crowd, with their subtle stares, quiet judgments, and the inevitable whispers.

I paused for a moment outside the cafeteria door, my nerves tightening in my chest. What if people noticed? What if I was the topic of the next office gossip? I wasn’t ready for that.

Sighing, I turned to leave. That’s when I spotted two people standing near the entrance of the cafeteria, chatting quietly.

“Y/N?”

I froze. It was Hoseok, the Marketing Manager Rya, the Social Media Specialist in my Team. They both looked up at me, smiling warmly. I was being trained by Tina during the past week and I hadn't had the chance to meet anyone on my Team, everyone was busy with their job and I was busy not to cry at how dismissive I was being treated by Tina.

“Hey!” Hoseok called out, his voice friendly and easy-going. “Are you coming in? We’ve got a couple of spots open.”

I hesitated. They didn’t look like the typical crowd who’d pay attention to me. But still, my nerves gripped me. I wasn’t ready to be the center of attention.

Rya noticed my unease, her eyes softening as she flashed me an understanding look. “It’s okay. You’re not the only one who gets the cafeteria jitters.”

I let out a soft laugh, though it sounded awkward. “I… I was thinking about just grabbing something quick and heading back to my desk.”

“You’re not getting away that easily,” Hoseok teased, motioning for me to come over. “Trust me, the food here isn’t so bad. And we’re cool. You’ll be fine.”

Something about Hoseok’s warm smile and Rya’s welcoming attitude made the anxiety that had been eating at me for the past few days ease just a little. “Alright, fine. I’ll join you.”

I made my way over to their table, trying not to look at anyone else. The last thing I wanted was to feel like I was on display.

As I sat down, I noticed they were both already halfway through their meals, and the conversation seemed casual, almost like we had known each other for ages. Hoseok leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he gave me a sympathetic look.

“You’re probably wondering what it’s like working here, right?”

I blinked. “A little. I’m still figuring things out.”

“Well, don’t let it get to you,” Hoseok said with a grin. “You’re probably gonna hear a lot of rumors around here, especially about our wonderful boss.”

I froze. My stomach did a flip.

“You’ve probably heard some stories about him, huh?” Rya asked, her voice lighter than I expected.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. A few.” I have heard whispers amongst the other employes at how he had slept with someone from their department and whatnot. How good he was in bed, bla bla bla. It was the usual gossip I tried not to pay attention to.

Rya exchanged a knowing glance with Hoseok before turning her attention back to me. “Well, we’ve worked here long enough to know the truth behind the gossip.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, giving Rya an amused look. “Don’t go spreading too many secrets now, Rya.”

Rya grinned. “Oh, I’m just telling her the truth.”

I couldn’t help but lean in, intrigued. “What’s the truth?”

Rya grinned, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “Well, first of all, Jungkook isn’t as terrifying as people make him out to be.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. “He seemed pretty… intense in our meeting.”

Rya laughed. “He’s definitely intense, that’s for sure. But he’s also complicated. It’s not like he’s always angry or anything. He’s just… cold. Detached. He doesn’t let people get too close.”

“He’s got a reputation for being a heartbreaker,” Hoseok added with a slight roll of his eyes. “And he definitely doesn’t tolerate mistakes. But don’t take it personally. He’s just obsessed with control. It doesn't matter if it's a job related or a person related.”

I let out a slow breath, still processing. “So, all the rumors about him being a womanizer… are those true?”

Hoseok shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “He’s not exactly the type to settle down. But that doesn’t mean he’s out there dating every woman who walks through the door. He’s selective, you could say.”

Rya’s lips twitched, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Selective is an understatement. He doesn’t seem interested in anyone but himself. Though, a certain someone might argue differently…”

I furrowed my brow, not entirely following her meaning. Hoseok picked up on it immediately and chuckled. “Rya’s just a little bitter. She’s been crushing on him for years.”

Rya’s face flushed slightly, but she didn’t back down. “I wouldn’t say crushing. Just admiring from a distance. He’s got this way about him that’s hard to ignore. But trust me, you won’t get anywhere with him. He’s not the type to let anyone in.”

I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. The idea of Jungkook being so emotionally unavailable seemed like a blessing and a curse at the same time.

“But hey, if you can get past his walls,” Hoseok said with a teasing grin, “you might find that he’s not as bad as people think. Just don’t go expecting him to hand out compliments like candy. He’s got a… very unique way of showing he’s impressed.”

“Yeah, by barely acknowledging you, if you’re lucky,” Rya added, her tone dry.

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. The tension that had been gripping me finally loosened.

“Thanks, guys,” I said, feeling a bit lighter. “This helps a lot. I didn’t expect such an… honest view of him.”

Hoseok gave me a wink. “We’re here for the truth, Y/N. Don’t worry too much about him. Just do your thing and keep your head down. You’ll be fine.”

Rya smiled warmly. “Exactly. And remember, we’re here if you need anything.”

I smiled back, the warmth of their kindness making my nerves a little easier to handle. Maybe, just maybe, I could survive this place after all.

It had two weeks since I’d joined the team, but it felt like I’d been here forever. Between the pressure of trying to meet everyone’s expectations and dealing with my own insecurities, the past few days had been a blur. But today? Today felt different.

I was sitting at my desk, trying to finalize a design for a new client, when I got an email: Urgent meeting, 2 PM. I glanced at the clock— it was nearly time. The butterflies in my stomach immediately turned into a storm of dread.

I didn’t know what the meeting was about, but something told me it wasn’t going to be good.

By the time I walked into the conference room, my heart was pounding. The entire team was gathered— Tina, Hoseok, Rya, and even some of the higher-ups were sitting around the long conference table. At the head of the table was Jungkook, looking every bit the part of the cold, calculated CEO he was. He barely even looked up as I entered, though the slight tension in the air made it clear something was wrong.

“Y/N, sit,” Tina said, her tone cool as she gestured toward an empty chair. I sat down quickly, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“Alright,” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice sharp and commanding. He stood up, moving around the table like he was preparing to give a speech. But his gaze locked on me as he began.

“The client is not happy with the design.” His words felt like a slap to the face. “And do you want to know why?” He didn’t wait for a response, his eyes boring into me. “Because, Y/N, you thought it would be cute to add your little personal touch.” I saw him take the folder I had given to Tina to give to Jungkook. He slammed it on the table which made me flinch.

I felt my face flush as the room fell silent. I knew exactly what he was talking about—the last-minute design changes that had been added against my protests. I had tried to convince Tina not to add them, but she insisted. The change had been pushed through her decision, not mine.

But here I was, in front of everyone, being blamed for something I had no control over.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain that the changes were not my idea, but Jungkook didn’t give me a chance.

“Look at this,” he continued, “It’s amateur work, Y/N. It’s embarrassing. This,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is what you think a professional design looks like?” His eyes narrowed. “It’s no wonder the client doesn’t want to move forward with us.”

I felt my chest tighten, every word hitting me like a ton of bricks. The weight of his insults pressed down on me, but I stayed quiet. I couldn’t speak.

Then, his voice grew colder, mocking. “And what’s this?” He pointed at the screen again. “You decided to add this ridiculous pattern—what, you thought it would make it look more ‘fun’?”

I wanted to sink into the chair and disappear. The whole room was watching me, waiting for me to respond. But how could I? What could I possibly say when Jungkook was tearing my work—and me—down in front of everyone?

“And don’t get me started on the layout,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s all over the place. I mean, do you even have a vision of beauty?” he paused for a moment, "Because It's obvious you have absolutely no idea how beauty feels like. I mean, look at you. . . " he trailed off.

The words hit like a physical blow. I froze. The way he said it, so casually, made it feel like it was the least important thing to him. But to me? It felt like the world had just fallen apart.

“Maybe if you spent less time making things look good and more time doing your job, we wouldn’t be in this position,” he mocked, his eyes cutting into me. “You really think you deserve to be here?”

I could feel my heart racing, my breath shallow. The sting of his words—those last few—made my entire body feel cold. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.

I just sat there, the weight of his words crashing down on me, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life.

Jungkook turned away, finally seeming to lose interest in me, as he went on to talk about other aspects of the project. But I was no longer listening. The room felt like it was closing in on me.

I couldn’t look at anyone. I didn’t even want to be here anymore. But all I could do was sit in silence, my eyes trained on the table, willing myself not to cry.

The meeting dragged on for what felt like hours, but when it finally ended, I barely heard the chatter around me. I just stood up quietly and walked out, my hands trembling at my sides.

I didn’t know where I was going, but somehow, my feet carried me to the nearest bathroom. I locked myself inside one of the stalls, pressing my back against the door as the tears I had been holding back finally broke free.

I slid down the wall, hugging my knees to my chest, the words from the meeting echoing in my head. “You really think you deserve to be here?”

I didn’t know how long I sat there, crying silently, but I couldn’t stop. Every insult, every mocking tone he’d used to tear me down, was running through my mind on repeat.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Y/N? You in there?”

It was Rya’s voice.

I wiped my eyes quickly, trying to get myself together, but it was no use. I couldn’t hide the sobs that kept coming.

“Y/N, let me in,” Rya said, her voice soft but insistent. “It’s okay. Open up.”

I stood up and unlocked the door, only to find Rya standing there, her eyes full of understanding. Without a word, she stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and wrapped her arms around me.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. He’s an asshole. Don’t let him get to you.”

I buried my face in her shoulder, the tears flowing freely now. I didn’t care anymore. I just needed someone to tell me it wasn’t my fault.

“I… I didn’t even want to add those changes,” I whispered between sobs. “It wasn’t my idea. Tina—Tina pushed it. But he—he…” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t bring myself to repeat what he’d said about my weight, about me.

Rya held me tighter. “I know. I know. And it’s not your fault. Tina did that on purpose, and Jungkook? He doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. He’s got his own issues.”

I sniffled and pulled back slightly, wiping my eyes. “But… the way he talked about me—”

“Forget him,” Rya interrupted gently. “He’s an idiot. A rich, spoiled idiot who doesn’t know how to treat people. You’re a damn good designer, Y/N. Don’t let him make you doubt that.”

I nodded, though it didn’t feel like it was enough. My mind was still reeling, but Rya’s words were a small comfort.

“I don’t know if I can go back in there,” I confessed. “I don’t think I can face him again.”

Rya gave me a small smile. “You don’t have to. But when you’re ready, we’ll be here. Just remember, you’ve got this. Don’t let one asshole ruin your day.”

I took a deep breath, nodding slowly. It didn’t fix everything, but it was a start.

Rya squeezed my shoulder before leaving the bathroom, leaving me to gather my thoughts. As I stood there, I realized one thing: Maybe it wasn’t about winning Jungkook’s approval. Maybe it was about not letting him—or anyone else—define my worth.

It had been a long, draining day at the office. My mind was still tangled with the aftermath of the meeting, Jungkook's biting words still echoing in my head. But I didn’t want to think about it anymore—not right now, at least.

“Come on, Y/N. You need a break,” Hoseok said with that signature grin of his as he tugged me away from my desk. “We’re going out for coffee. You’re coming with us.”

“I… I don’t know if I should,” I replied, glancing at the clock. “I still have some work to catch up on.”

“You’ve been working non-stop for hours,” Rya chimed in, appearing by my side. “It’s one coffee. We’ll keep it short. Besides, you deserve it.”

Reluctantly, I grabbed my bag and followed them out of the office. My shoulders were still tense from the meeting, but I figured a little break wouldn’t hurt.

We walked to the nearby café, a cozy little spot that seemed like the perfect place to relax. The warm scent of coffee beans and pastries filled the air as we stepped inside, and I immediately felt my mood shift. I could finally breathe.

“Alright, get whatever you want,” Hoseok said, waving a hand at the menu. “My treat. You need something sweet after today.”

I gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Hoseok. I’ll just get a latte, I think.”

Rya raised an eyebrow at me. “You sure? You’re not gonna go for something stronger? A double shot maybe?”

I laughed nervously. “No, I think a latte is good for now. I don’t need to be jittery today.”

We ordered our drinks, and as we waited for them, I found myself staring out the window, trying to calm my nerves. There was a weight on my chest that I couldn’t shake. The insults from the meeting were still gnawing at me, and it made my hands shake a little.

Hoseok and Rya must have noticed, because they both came to sit beside me with their drinks, offering me a sense of calm just by being there.

“So,” Hoseok started, his voice light, “how are you really doing? After the meeting?”

I sighed and rested my chin on my hand, glancing down at my latte. “I’m fine, I guess. It just… feels like everything is my fault. I didn’t want to change the design like that, but Tina pushed it through, and then Jungkook…”

Rya shook her head. “I told you, don’t take it personally. That was a power play, pure and simple. Tina wants to prove herself that she is the best one in front of Jungkook and Jungkook thrives on making people feel small.”

Hoseok agreed. “Exactly. Actually, now that I think about it, both of them got a way of tearing people down just to get what they want. You’ve just gotta learn to take it with a grain of salt. Jungkook’s an asshole, but he’s not the be-all, end-all."

I nodded, though the pit in my stomach didn’t entirely go away. I had always hated confrontation, and Jungkook's words felt like more than just critique. They felt like personal attacks, especially about my appearance. It was one thing for him to dismiss my design choices, but his mockery had stung in a way I didn’t know how to process. "Now that I think about it, Tina and him are more alike, I am confused he hasn't seen that yet.” Hoseok muttered and Rya slapped him on the shoulder in pure realization. "Holy shit, you are right!" I frowned. Were they actually? I wasn't here long enough to know that for sure.

Before I could respond, Rya spoke out, as if sensing my discomfort. “So, have you heard anything about Tina and her little antics?”

I frowned, looking between Rya and Hoseok. “What do you mean?”

Rya leaned in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Tina’s been all over Jungkook lately. Ever since you started, she’s been trying to get his attention, especially at meetings.”

Hoseok smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “I think we all know what’s going on there. She’s not exactly subtle about it. But Jungkook? He doesn’t seem interested. He’s just… indifferent, which drives her crazy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought they were close.”

Rya snorted. “Close? They’re business partners, that’s all. And Tina’s obsessed with the idea of him.”

Hoseok laughed softly. “He’s too much of a cold fish for that, honestly. I don’t think Tina’s figured that out yet.”

Just as I was about to respond, the door to the café opened, and a tall man stepped inside, scanning the room briefly. I didn’t pay him much attention at first, but then I noticed Hoseok’s eyes narrow and Rya stiffen beside me.

“Uh-oh,” Rya muttered under her breath. “Look who's here.”

Hoseok sighed, shaking his head. “Great. Just what we needed.”

I looked over at them, confused, and then turned to follow their gaze. The man I’d barely noticed at first was now walking toward the counter to order, and I couldn’t help but notice the aura of confidence he exuded—he had a way of moving that made people take notice. He was tall, with brown, disheveled hair and a piercing gaze that didn’t seem to care about anything or anyone. He was the type of guy who could make the world feel like his playground.

“You’re staring,” Hoseok commented, his voice amused.

“I’m not staring,” I muttered, feeling my face heat up. “Who is he?”

“That’s Min Yoongi,” Rya answered, her tone cautious. “He’s Jungkook’s best friend and his right-hand man.”

I blinked, surprised. “Oh? I’ve never seen him around before.”

Rya nodded. “He doesn’t usually come by the office unless something important is going on. But when he does show up, you’ll know.” She gave me a sly look. “He’s a bit of a troublemaker. A playboy. But don’t let that fool you—he’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

Hoseok snorted. “He’s definitely a sly fox, that one. Flirts with anything that moves, but doesn’t really care about anyone’s feelings. Except Jungkook’s, of course. They’re close. Too close, if you ask me.”

As Min Yoongi made his way over to a table near us, his eyes casually flicked over our group, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary on me. His gaze was sharp, but there was something playful in his expression as he took a seat. He didn’t speak to anyone, just settled in with his drink, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the type to draw people in without even trying.

I couldn’t help but feel a little out of place—Yoongi had an air about him that seemed to demand attention, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was sitting here, sipping a latte, with two people I barely knew.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Rya warned with a smirk, noticing the direction of my gaze. “He’s not someone you want to get involved with. Trust me.”

I almost choked on my sip. "Are you crazy? That's inapropriate, firstly and secondly . . . he gives off Jungkook's aura so no thanks. Besides, he'd never notice me." I muttered, my shoulders slumped a little. There was something magnetic about him, but I wasn’t sure if it was the kind of attraction I needed to get mixed up in right now.

Hoseok’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Don’t worry. Yoongi doesn’t give a damn about anyone unless they’ve got something to offer him.”

I glanced back at him, still unsure of what to make of the situation. Min Yoongi was definitely intriguing, but not someone I was looking to befriend—especially not with everything going on with Jungkook and Tina.

“Let’s just focus on you for now,” Hoseok said with a wink, nudging me gently. “You’re our priority.”

Rya added, “And remember, we’re here for you. If you ever need anything, just say the word.”

I smiled at them, grateful for their kindness. The world felt a little less heavy with them around. But as I glanced back at Min Yoongi, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

And that was probably just the beginning.

A month later since that fateful coffee break with Hoseok and Rya, and in the days that followed, everything had changed. The office felt colder, the walls seemed to close in tighter, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, even as I kept pushing myself to get through the day.

The worst part? Jungkook hadn’t said a word to me since that horrible meeting. Not a single word of apology, explanation, or even acknowledgment. He continued to pass me in the halls, his eyes cold, his expression distant. It felt as if I was invisible to him now—just a nameless face in the office. I was truly deluding myself that this man actually had morals at all. I was slowly starting to get to terms with that.

Meanwhile, Tina was thriving. Her behavior toward me had grown more insufferable. She’d openly paraded around the office, flaunting her "success" in getting the design changes approved and the "good work" she was supposedly doing with Jungkook. I could see the way she watched him, practically throwing herself at him every chance she got. Jungkook, of course, barely gave her a second glance. I was nor surpised that eventually, after Tina's involvments in my designs, something would happen with me and my position. This woman was jealous of anyone Jungkook paid the slightest attention to and it was pathetic. I was determined to focus on my improvement and work and not let anything distract me.

The office was particularly busy that day. There was a big client meeting happening, and everyone was on edge, scrambling to finish last-minute details. I was still trying to make sense of the mess I’d been handed—new tasks, new responsibilities, but all of them felt like punishment for something I hadn’t even done. I sat at my desk, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure where to begin. Every time I thought about how things had turned out, my stomach twisted.

“You okay?” Rya’s voice startled me, and I looked up to see her standing by my desk, her arms crossed.

I smiled weakly, forcing myself to sit up straight. “Yeah. Just… busy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You’ve barely said anything since the last meeting.” Her tone softened, and she dropped her arms. “You’ve been keeping your voice down, and honestly, it’s a little concerning.”

I sighed, glancing around the office. Everyone was too focused on their work to notice what was going on with me. I had to keep it together. “I’m fine, really. Just… a lot on my plate right now.”

Rya studied me for a moment, clearly not buying it. “Listen, if you need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

“Thanks, Rya,” I muttered, though I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the full extent of how I was feeling. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to talk about everything—about Tina, about Yoongi, about Jungkook and how they were all acting like I didn’t even exist.

But before I could say more, there was a knock on the door, and Tina’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Y/N! You’re needed in the meeting room right now.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. But I forced myself to nod and get up, trying to ignore the flutter of panic in my stomach. As I walked down the hallway toward the meeting room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was coming. Something that I wasn’t prepared for.

When I entered the meeting room, I was met with the usual suspects—Tina, Jungkook, and, to my surprise, Yoongi, who was standing at the front of the room, leaning casually against the table, a smug smile on his face.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said flatly, not even looking up from his laptop. “You’re late. Again.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, feeling my cheeks flush. I didn’t need another reprimand today.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, observing me for a moment before turning his attention back to the laptop. “Tina, let’s move on,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “We don’t have all day.”

Tina nodded, a little too enthusiastically. “Right. So, Y/N, we’ve been looking at the latest design you’ve submitted. It’s… disappointing.”

I blinked. Disappointing?

I swallowed hard. “What? I—what do you mean?”

“We reviewed it carefully.” Tina flipped through a stack of papers on the table, not meeting my eyes. “And frankly, it doesn’t fit with what the client wants. I think you’ve really missed the mark on this one.”

I felt the sting of her words, but something inside me snapped. “That’s not true,” I said, my voice steady despite the growing panic in my chest. “I made the changes based on the client’s feedback. If there’s an issue, it’s with the last-minute adjustments—those weren’t my ideas. I didn’t want to change anything in the first place.” I glanced at Tina, who had her eyes glued to her papers, avoiding my gaze. “But you pushed for it.”

Tina’s eyes flicked to me, but she didn’t respond. Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised at all. He raised an eyebrow and leaned back, his gaze never leaving me.

“You really think you can blame others for your mistakes?” Yoongi’s voice was calm but laced with sarcasm. “Nice try. But the bottom line is, you didn’t deliver. And that’s on you.”

I froze. This was what was happening? Everyone in the room had already made their decision. I could see the smug satisfaction on Tina’s face, the cold indifference in Jungkook’s eyes, and the subtle amusement in Yoongi’s expression. They were all waiting for me to crack, to fold under the pressure.

But I wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction.

“I did my job,” I said quietly, my voice unwavering. “I did exactly what I was told. If the design didn’t work, it’s because it wasn’t my choice to change it in the first place.”

There was a long pause. Yoongi’s smirk widened, as if he’d been waiting for this moment. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Tina’s right about one thing,” he said, voice low. “You’re not cut out for this job, Y/N. And after the client’s response, I think it’s time to make a few changes.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was I being fired?

Without giving me a chance to respond, Yoongi stood up. “Effective immediately, I’ll be taking over your responsibilities.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. I felt small, helpless, trapped in a situation that seemed to be spiraling beyond my control.

Then, just as I thought the world was closing in on me, Jungkook spoke, his voice cold and distant. “You’ll be working with him now. I’ll make sure you’re briefed on the new tasks later.”

I turned to Jungkook, but he didn’t even look at me. His gaze was focused on his laptop screen again.

I couldn’t breathe. I’d tried. I had really tried to keep my head above water in this toxic office, but now it seemed like it was all slipping through my fingers.

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revelboo · 1 month ago

Note

[/slams a request form on your desk like an over zealous court room anime dude]

Mx.Revel, consider this a request of the utmost importance! This request is for none other than your personal favorite cybertronian, whom ever they may be.

Thank you for your time, your honor, I concede.

That’s Wheeljack, buuuut how about an angst ficlet? Was thinking about how utterly ill equipped Shockwave is to deal with emotions other than anger and a scenario where Soundwave is grieving a cassette. Shock wanting to do something for his friend, basically the only Cybertronian that doesn’t find him deeply unsettling, and he doesn’t understand he can’t just replace the cassette with something near the same size. Honestly, I just wanted to do an alternate take with these two. Title is ‘Clumsy Heart’ by The Matches

Clumsy Heart

IDW Shockwave x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Servos of his one hand flexing as the uncomfortable noise in his processor grows, those invasive thoughts and shadows of memory that aren’t his floating to the surface, half seen and hazy. Watching Soundwave cradle the still form of a cassette to himself, the way his servos ghost over that small shape making the chaos worse. Becoming uncomfortable, unable to really understand this grief, but realizing that he should know this. That he hates this. He can repair the frame, but the spark is gone. Senses his friend won’t appreciate it if he resurrects a pale shadow, even if he’s not sure why he knows that.

• Spark aching at the loss, Soundwave is aware of his other cassettes echoing his pain. Of Shockwave lingering nearby, head tipped to study him like his grief is something foreign and fascinating. “Leave me,” he says, servos gently touching that little face. Had they looked for him at the end? Knowing he’d be there in time to save them like he always is. All of them trusting without question that he’ll protect them. And he’d failed. Feels like coming apart, losing something so dear to him, a part of him. Finally, Shockwave drifts away, leaving him to grieve with his surviving cassettes.

• Leaving the base, trying to get rid of that tangling, unpleasant feeling of dissonance, Shockwave tips his head up to the night sky. Trying to understand. Wanting to. Can’t bring back the cassette, but he can find a replacement. Something similar. If it’s the loss of a small symbiote he cares for that is paining Soundwave, maybe another small thing he can care for will ease that grief? Doesn’t know, can’t really understand why he grieves at the loss. Everything dies. It’s inevitable. And it’s illogical to mourn the inevitable. Striding into the night, he ponders replacements. Something that can speak with him like a cassette. Something small and alive. One of the little, organic natives would do.

• Breath fogging in the morning air, you check the rifle. Exhausted after being up all night finding every single photo he’s in and cutting out his face. Taping those hateful little visages all over his Xbox, all his games, those stupid baseball cards and then lining them up for execution on the lawn. A petty bit of satisfaction as you line up the first shot and fire. For the bra hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. A game disc explodes in jagged shards. For those slutty lace panties on your kitchen counter. The cards aren’t as satisfying, just scattering. For that bitch in your bed and the look on his face when you’d come home early because work was slow. Slowly, picking targets and destroying them since you can’t go after him, he’s not worth it. The crap he’d left when you’d grabbed the rifle and chased him and her naked out of your house last night? Fair game.

• Is this a valid course of action? It seems logical. If something has been lost and is causing a problem, replacing it should resolve the issue. Aware that it might be a bit more nuanced than that, because of emotions he can’t grasp, he moves through the woods outside the base. It’s a sound theory and it can’t make things worse to try. Probably. That, too, eludes him. An answer that relies on emotion.

• Reloading the rifle, you hear a branch crack and come crashing down in the woods behind you. Making you flinch and nearly drop the gun. It’d been windy the day before, a branch must have broken. Turning toward the sound, your mouth falls open as a giant steps out of the woods, a single red optic finding you, antenna flicking up. “Acceptable,” it growls as the fine hair at your nape prickles. Opening fire on it as it strides your way, completely unfazed. Dropping the rifle to run, you scream as it bends and snags you in a giant hand.

• Still weighed down by grief even after laying the cassette to rest, Soundwave’s head lifts at the sound of screaming. Of terror and pain that goes right through so soon after his own loss. Freezing as he spots Shockwave entering his quarters and his attention drops to the small form wriggling like mad in his grip. Speechless as the scientist drops the human on the desk and the tiny creature lunges to their feet and runs, only to stop short as they hit the edge and realize how high up it is. Can feel the chaos and fear in their mind, that panic so bright and hurtful. “A replacement,” Shockwave says, gesturing at the terrified thing with his cannon. Like it’s as simple as that. Like a human can replace his cassette. That people are interchangeable. Turning away from the edge, terrified eyes look up at him and that fear nearly cripples him. You can’t replace what he’s lost, but you do need him. Hates Shockwave right then and those frightened eyes.

#transformers x reader #shockwave x reader #idw soundwave #soundwave x reader #idw shockwave

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beomcoups · 7 months ago

Text

Food Wars pt. 1

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, suggestive (next part will be spicier, I promise), coworkers to lovers au, 18+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, mention of death (nothing graphic), suggestive grabs of the hips and ass 💀

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

𝐀𝐍: Part 1 is heeeeeeere! This is apart of the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 2 will be posted soon. There are alot of people here who helped me cultivate this fic and assure me that what I wrote didn't suck lol. Thank you @wooahaeproductions, @seokgyuu, @hobeemin and @hannieween for looking at bits of this for me. Also thank you to @highvern , @cheolism , @okiedokrie @bitchlessdino @gyupremacy for shooting ideas with me (ahem, cologne!) and finally @milfgyuu , I know you want to be tagged in anything related to your man :)

You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are annoyed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, told you. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make them the executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.

It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap to the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you.

You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at as a chef, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you could plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom. Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looks like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.

You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie - how you went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find and cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her.

You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.

“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”

Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. Rich can be a dramatic pain in the ass sometimes.

“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion.

You need a fucking drink.

Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog.

“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.”

For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”

Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.

“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning them off to be ready for the customers who are set to come in later. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug.

“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke.

You nod, grab a granola nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit.

“So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”

Your morning sucked. You barely slept, and when you finally did, you woke up to three missed alarms and was running an hour late. You had less than a week to plan to leave the country and spent most of your night packing for ten days and making sure your cat, Grey, would be comfortable while you were gone. He is a rescue; you adopted him from the animal shelter when you volunteered with Shena a year ago. He was your cuddle buddy; you haven’t been without him for more than a day. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” you give him a good scratch. He purrs lazily, curling himself into a ball and going back to sleep. You are grateful that Shena’s girlfriend, Lumina, offered to come over and feed him while you were gone. You were considering dropping him off at one of those pet daycares for the week or hiring a cat sitter, but she came through in the nick of time. She works at the animal shelter you adopted her, and coincidentally, that’s where she and Shena met and fell in love.

It was nice seeing them fall for each other. It was like watching a silly, quirky rom-com play out in front of you. You see the magic in Shena’s eyes when she looks at Lumina, the warmth in her voice when she talks about her. Shena described Lumina as a warm hug on a rainy day, and you could believe that. They are made for each other.

You hear a notification on your phone telling you your Uber is outside. You send a quick text to Lumina, giving her the code to your door, and give one last look around before you go across the ocean. “Bye, Grey,” you whisper, ensuring the door is locked before leaving.

Silvery-white clouds rolled into the early morning sky as you walked to your Uber, the ground wet from the fresh rain a few hours before. The smell of rain has always soothed you; the clean, earthy petrichor wakes you up a bit more. You quickly greet the driver, putting on your AirPods and playing a playlist you made. You watch the remaining droplets of rain left on the window roll away as your driver cruises down the highway. Where you come from, it hardly rains as it's primarily hot year round. On the rare occasions when it did, you would open your bedroom window, sit in your bed, and watch the water hit the Oleander flowers in your backyard. It was one of your two favorite smells in the world, the other being apple pie.

Mixed in with your annoyance about having to have a competition to prove yourself as a chef, you are looking forward to leaving the country. You have never been to Spain before, let alone Europe. You have traveled and seen a few things, but Mexico is the farthest you have gone. You spent much time last night looking up main attractions, museums, and local areas to see if you have the time. You want to visit the local markets and taste the local food. Rich set up all of your travel and living arrangements, and all you have to do is show up and cook. You are going to make the most of your time there. Who knows when you will be able to travel again? At the very least, you plan on coming out of this thing, winning it all.

“We’re here.”

When you look up, the airport entrance pulls up to your right. The ride feels shorter than it is, but you are lost in thought about many things. You thank your driver, grab your suitcases, and walk to the airline’s front desk to turn your bags in. You arrived with thirty minutes left to spare, and there was a long line already; it wasn’t even 8 am. You can’t help but yawn as you hand over your bags to the agents, fatigue and the lack of sleep kicking your ass.

“You’re all set,” the agent hands over your printed ticket. “Have a safe trip.” You nod, heading towards security and breezing through the checkpoints before arriving in front of the underground train. Your purse feels heavy on your shoulder, and your eyelids threaten to close as you stand. You usually have good sleep management, but you stressed over this trip all night. What if you come all the way out to Spain for nothing? You don’t think you could continue to work for Rich anymore. It would hurt too much.

The train comes shortly after, and you shuffle inside, trying to find a seat in the back before it is taken. You see one and settle down, your shoulders dropping as you finally sit down. You lean your head on the cold pole, hopeful that closing your eyes for a minute will give you some of your energy back.

“Are you as tired as I am?” You recognize that voice, annoyance slowly creeping in as your longing for a bit of solitude is interrupted.

“Mingyu, what a surprise,” you mutter without cracking an eye open.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your voice. It’s one of a kind,” you deadpan.

He chuckles as the train flicks forward, sitting next to you. You begrudgingly pull out your ticket, realizing you will not get to relax until you’re sitting on that plane. Noting the concourse you need to get off on, you look ahead, counting the stops you have until you have to get off. Mingyu hums softly, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his headphones.

“Have you ever flown first class before?”

Your head snaps his way, not registering what he’s saying. “What?” “First class? Have you ever been?” “I-uh, no,” you stumble through your words. “Why does it matter?”

“Uh, did you even look at where you’re sitting?”

“Well, yes?” you say incredulously, looking at your ticket again. “Of course, I know where I’m sitting—”

You don’t finish that sentence; instead, your mouth forms a small “o,” unaware that you would be sitting in first class. You have never flown in those seats before, the closest being business class a couple of rows behind the curtain. Those tickets were not cheap, and you only purchased them because you wanted to treat yourself to graduating culinary school, which you were able to do by saving all of your tips from your waitressing job.

You don’t like admitting that you were wrong, and you aren’t going to admit it now. Instead, you rake your fingers in your hair, nodding and shoving your ticket in your back pocket.

“You’re welcome,” Mingyu taunts you, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head.

You can barely suppress your smile, saved by the announcement that your concourse is approaching. You both rise out of your seats, moving towards the doors before the train jerks suddenly, making you fall forward into Mingyu. He grabs your hips, holding you steady until you’ve caught your balance. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, and your body is hypersensitive to his inadvertent touch. His grip is firm and protective, bringing an unexpected tingle to your core. You couldn’t feel more thankful that you were looking down; you couldn’t look him in the eye out of embarrassment. You don’t even have a crush on this guy, yet you feel hot and bothered.

“Be careful, princess,” he crouches low enough for your ears only. “We don’t need you flailing around this train.”

“Don’t do that,” you scoff. “Don’t call me princess.”

“Why?”

The train doors open, and you calmly remove his hands from you, gazing deep into his eyes.

“Because I’m far from that.”

You walk away before he has a chance to respond, looking for the gate you need to be at. Bitchiness aside, you stand on what you said. You aren’t some helpless person waiting in a tower for someone to come save you or give you a handout. You’ve worked hard for everyone to see you more than a woman, as it already has a stigma. The constant belittling of your intelligence, being told to “wait your turn,” you are done with it. You’ve taken control of your destiny your life, and you will not be treated like some delicate little girl waiting to be saved from a castle… no matter how hot the knight is.

You feel relieved when you find your gate and a familiar face sitting with her iPad in her hand. As if she felt you coming, Shena looks up and waves you over to where she is sitting. Dressed in mint green sweats and matching crocs, she stands out in front of the dull black seats.

“There you are,” she greets you with a hug. “It’s not like you to be late. I sent you a text wondering where you were.”

“You did?”

You pull out your phone, and sure enough, you have received one unread message from her. She must have sent it when you were on the train, distracted by Mingyu and his hands on your body. It’s not like you to get riled up, and it ticks you off that it happened with him, of all people. Your life is a joke.

You plop down next to her, cocking your head back in exhaustion. Before fully relaxing, you feel the seat beside you shift, followed by the smell of light cologne and chocolate. Looking over, you see Mingyu adjusting his bag before setting it on the ground. He is holding a small chocolate bar and taking a small bite, savoring the decadent treat as he licks his lips. You look away before being caught, chagrined that you were staring at him for that long. What is with you?

“Oh hey there, Gyu,” Shena waves at him. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, I just got here,” he smiles. “I had to find my way to the gate since this one here is a speed walker.”

“Oh? You guys arrived together?”

“Not together, together,” you emphasize. “We just happened to be on the same train, that’s all.”

You purposely avoid Shena’s eye contact, clearing your throat and changing the subject.

“Did you notice we are flying first class?”

“Yeah!” Shena beams, pulling out her ticket. “I’ve never been out of the country, let alone first class. Lumina was bummed she couldn’t tag along. The shelter has her tied up, and it is kinda last minute.”

“Aww,” you rub her knee. “There will always be a next time, right?”

Shena nods, and the flight attendants announce they are about to start boarding, starting with first class. You pop out of your seat first, grab your things, and stand in line. Anticipation drills in your heart, wanting nothing more than to sit in some very comfortable seats and sleep throughout this 8-plus hour flight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mingyu behind you, his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. He leans in closer, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as his lips barely touch your ear.

“I know you’re not a princess,” he whispers. “You’ve proven to be more than that. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to care for you sometimes.”

You were next in line and couldn’t respond without the flight attendants giving you weird looks. Instead, as they check your ticket, you do what you know best: bite your tongue, smile, and push it aside.

Madrid is exquisite; it is everything you saw on your Pinterest board and more. You’ve been here a few days and are in love. You are surrounded by gorgeous cerulean waters, good weather, and historic sites you always wanted to see as a child. The Almudena Cathedral, one of the most prominent catholic churches in the world, took your breath away when you went to visit. The Francisco de Cubas architecture throughout made you appreciate art more, one of the most beauteous works you have ever seen in person.

You also took time to visit the local market, talking with the locals about their lives and picking up fresh food to try out different dishes for the competition. Shena was a big help, taking over in Spanish if you needed help and also giving fresh ideas on what to cook. You knew a bit of Spanish to get around the city and ask questions, but coming from a Spanish-speaking household, Shena could convey your ideas in ways you couldn’t understand. You will be forever grateful for that.

“It looks like we’re here.” Rich called you both to the restaurant this evening to show you around and tell you where your cooking stations would be. The restaurant stood atop a hill, with small walk-up steps made of stone mosaics. Surrounded by boutique shops and a couple of markets, this was the only restaurant on the block; you couldn’t miss it. You understood quickly why Rich took this location. He meets you at the entrance, greeting each other in dos besos.

“Welcome, let me show you around. Mingyu is already here.” You walk into the small waiting area before entering a gorgeous main dining area with walls made of Spanish moss brick. The bar is neatly placed in the middle, already loaded with the finest wines and other liquors. The dining tables and chairs are made of mahogany, giving you a vibe that you are back home in the country.

“Ah, there he is,” Rich looks to your right.

Mingyu walks up, wearing a white beater accentuating his well-toned arms and acid-blue jeans that hit him perfectly. You couldn’t stop ogling him if you wanted to; you would’ve thought he was a model off the street if you didn't know him. His eyes scan Rich and Shena before landing on you, a slight smirk on his lips that only you seem to notice. Ever since your encounter at the airport, he’s been on your mind, and you hate it. You still feel his hands on your hips on the train, as if he imprinted on you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to find the bathroom.” “No worries,” Rich waves him off. “Let me show you around.”

He takes you to where your cooking stations would be, explaining how everything was set up and where to find your ingredients so you could prepare them. The competition is in three days, giving you enough time to finish your menu and prep before the big day. The kitchen is magnificent, a sight straight out of your daydreams: stainless steel appliances, expensive cast irons, and utensils you’ve always wanted that were way out of your budget. You may hate the idea of this competition, but working at this location would be a dream come true.

“Imagine if we got to work here,” Shena whispers. “I’ve only seen kitchens like these on Master Chef.” You nod in agreement, your fingers barely grasping the counter's surface. Rich finishes showing you around and asks everyone what their plans are leading up to the big day. “Nothing, just prepping and looking around the city a bit more,” you shrug. “Well, that sounds boring! ” He exclaims. “Madrid has such a fun nightlife. It would be a shame for you to miss out. As a matter of fact, why don’t you kids go to Kapital tomorrow? I can get you a table, and you can let loose.”

“Well, shit, okay!” Shena pipes up before you can respond.

You groan internally, not in the mood to be body-to-body against strangers, sweating your hair out during loud music. You don’t see yourself having fun until this whole thing is over. How does this guy expect you to relax? It’s not like his dreams are on the line. You look over at Mingyu, who matches your gaze, leaning against one of the refrigerators.

“Yeah,” his eyes finally tear away from you. “I’m down.”

You’re the only one left who hasn’t given an answer, and everyone is looking at you expecting one.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you mask your disdain with a smile.

“Great!” He claps his hands in excitement. “I will send you the details later and get you set up. Have fun.”

Rich walks you out, and you ask for the bathroom. You need a moment to pee and think in peace. He points you toward one, and you walk into the grand bathroom decorated with an old European interior that was undoubtedly above your salary. You walk to the furthest stall away from the door, rubbing your temples as you do what you need to do. For the most part, you handle stress well. You compartmentalize your feelings about what needs to be done, and you’ve been fine. Even now, with this competition vastly approaching and Mingyu somehow encompassing your thoughts when you’re around him, you’re fine. You haven’t cracked.

You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so much. You still think about when he touched you on the train and how your body felt alive. You haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Is your body so desperate for intimacy that you melt at the first person who gives you attention? No, that can’t be it. You’ve been fine all this time. Why is Mingyu getting under your skin? Shaking those thoughts away, you wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door wide open, you are met by the man who has been plaguing your thoughts since you’ve been here. He was waiting for you, his back leaned against the wall, fiddling with a toothpick in his mouth.

“Rich and Shena are waiting for you… you can get kind of lost here,” Mingyu says.

“Mmhmm,” you nod slowly. “Well, let’s go.” The walk back to the front feels longer than it is. He hums a soft tune as he strides beside you, like he’s your equal, your partner. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you feel comfortable.

“So, what have you been doing since you’ve landed?” Mingyu asks.

“I did some sightseeing,” you respond. “I visited the Almudena Cathedral and the local markets with Shena and got some ingredients for the competition. Oh, and worked on the menu.” “That’s it?” Mingyu looks surprised. “There is so much more of Madrid you have to see.” “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of time to go out there and explore,” you defend yourself. “Plus, I can’t really relax with this thing coming up.” You point at the kitchen. “How do you do it?” “How about I show you?”

You stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from the door.

“What do you mean show me?” You eye him suspiciously. “I’m going to pick you and Shena up tomorrow, and we will explore together. There’s so much the world has to offer besides cooking and work.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“You’ll see.”

You both walk outside, and Shena sits at one of the tables, talking candidly on the phone. Rich is nowhere to be found. The moon peeks over the horizon, the white orb’s light shining over the waters. Normally, you wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he has a point. Maybe you should live a little. “You are something. You know that?

Mingyu shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just believe in living life to the fullest. We don’t know how long we may have.”

You eye him more, studying his face in hopes that you can find a false truth and be more at ease. When you don’t, it does the opposite of relaxing you; it makes you nervous. You might be starting to like this guy.

Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll send you the address.”

“He’s here!” You check yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the middle of your blue floral white dress. You opted to wear your hair in a low bun, matching earrings, and a necklace you’ve had for years. Sliding on your white sandals, you grab your purse and leave your room. “Phew!” Shena whistles at you. “Qué guapa estás!”

You roll your eyes playfully as she pops out of her seat, sporting a white top and blue jeans, accessorized with a light cardigan and a simple gold necklace. You usually wouldn’t dress up this nice for an outing with friends (and Mingyu), but you wanted to be prepared for anything, and it would kill you if you were underdressed. Plus, you were going to be in Europe! Why wouldn’t you want to be prepared?

You walk out of your Airbnb and meet Mingyu as he comes in. He is dressed casually in a white collared shirt and black shorts, the slight breeze lifting his shirt and exposing his abs. It took a lot of brainpower to look away, instead diverting your attention to the inside of your purse. He looks tanned and relaxed, as if he is one with Madrid. If only you could relax like that.

“Hey, Gyu,” Shena waves. “Thank you for leading the way on this grand adventure.”

“No problem,” Mingyu smiled. “I want this to be a fun day, and I figured we have a driver, so why not?”

He looks at you, and your heart patters. The sun and slight breeze do not help your plight as you fight internally against acknowledging how sexy he looks. You hate your body for the way it’s betraying you right now, feeling inadvertently turned on.

“You look pretty,” he marveled at you.

“Thanks,” you nod sheepishly, walking to the black car behind him. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

There is a tiny bit of you that wants you to look good for him, to be seen that you put in the effort. When you get in the car, you greet the driver, sitting in the back row, hoping he will get the hint that you want to be left to yourself and your thoughts. But that didn’t work that way, as he climbs in and sits right next to you, with Shena seated in the row in front. His cologne is light, different from the usual sweet, chocolatey smell you’re accustomed to when he’s around. It’s enchanting, exciting, and further puts you in a mood. “So where are we going?” Shena probed, snapping on her seatbelt. “The Royal Palace,” Mingyu announced. “They have a tour, and I figured we could get lunch afterward.”

The driver pulls off, and you gaze outside the window, admiring the beautiful architecture of Madrid. Visiting the Royal Palace was on your bucket list, but you didn’t think you would have time. You’ve seen the pictures on Pinterest and talked to some locals at the restaurant who have been, but you’ve always been told that tickets are hard to get. You never thought it would be attainable for you.

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s deep voice infiltrates your thoughts.

“Nothing, really,” you say, smoothing out your dress. “I am just enjoying the foreign atmosphere.”

“Foreign atmosphere?” Mingyu chuckles. “That’s an interesting way of saying you enjoy the view.”

“Well, are we not in a foreign place?” You retort.

“Well, yes.”

“Alright then.” You look back out the window, biting your lip to hold back a grin. You are thankful for the soft tunes from the car radio, letting the reggaeton beats drown out your very loud thoughts. Mingyu gets you riled up in a way that no one can. He doesn’t frustrate you in ways like the other men do at the restaurant. Deep down, it’s not in an ill manner; he is just like the golden retriever: nudging your leg with a bone in his mouth, begging you to play with him.

“I brought you something,” he nudges your shoulder. “I know you didn’t eat.” You look down and see that he is holding a granola bar coated with vanilla and almonds, poking out of a sandwich bag. The sweet smell is heaven to your nose, and your mouth slightly salivates. He tapes Shena on the shoulder, handing her one of her own.

“You made this?” Shena probes, carefully taking it from him. “This is really sweet.”

You take a small bite of it, and your taste buds do a happy dance. The vanilla was freshly made, and you taste the granola, almond, and sweet spices used to make this perfect bar. You aren’t big on breakfast, as you’re used to getting up and moving on the go, but occasionally, you will grab a granola bar and eat it on your breaks at work, this one explicitly being your favorite. Maybe Mingyu knows you better than you thought.

“You’re right,” you confessed. “I hadn’t eaten anything. Thank you.” The car pulls to a stop, arriving at the grandiose building known as The Royal Palace. You wait until everyone leaves the vehicle, barely climbing out without tripping over your feet. Standing outside of the gates, you are in awe. You aren’t sure if it’s dopamine, but the air suddenly feels different and almost cleaner. You scrambled into your purse, pulling out your portable camera to photograph the palace. This place may not be one of the world's seven wonders, but in your heart, it is. “Oooo, let’s take pictures while we are here,” Shena squeals.

She pulls you and Mingyu close to her, takes over the camera, and snaps a few photos together and separately. Usually, you would be annoyed if it was someone else, but she is your best friend. You can let her get away with a few things. Mingyu goes to the booth to confirm they have arrived, returning with three tickets to take inside. “We can go in through a separate entrance since I got the tickets ahead of time,” he announces. You flip through the pictures through the camera, excited to take more. You feel his eyes bore into you, and you suddenly feel hot.

“What are you looking at?” You say, putting your camera away.

“Your smile,” he confesses with a cheeky grin. “I want to see it more often.”

You gaze at each other for a moment, your mouth parted with much to say and nothing at the same time. Mingyu keeps leaving you speechless, and you aren’t mad about it anymore.

“Are you two gonna keep staring at each other lovingly, or are we gonna do this thing?” Shena’s words snap you out of your reverie, and Mingyu chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. You walk over to her, linking your arm with yours.

“There is nothing loving going on.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go look at some royalty.”

When you planned for this trip, you set a time to visit the Almudena Cathedral, visit the local markets, and plan your menu. You weren’t going to hold Shena to that standard even though she is your assistant. You thought you would be fine if you focused on nothing but food and didn’t get distracted. Mingyu, however, might be proving you wrong.

You sit at his Airbnb, watching him make lunch for you and Shena. He insisted on making something instead of eating out somewhere, and who are you to turn down a free meal? The Royal Palace was everything you imagined, learning about the history of Spain beyond what was in your textbooks in high school. You consider yourself a history buff, wanting to learn more about the world across the different seas. You’ve had that desire when you were a little girl, sitting on your grandmother’s lap and listening to her stories from when she traveled as a young adult. She never got to visit Spain, but she talked about it a lot, being that they were world conquerors (or, as you like to say, colonizers) back in the day. You really miss her.

Mingyu sets your plate in front of you, a fried calamari sandwich with a side of garlicky mayo and fries he made himself. He tops it off with a small squeeze of lemon juice, just as you like it. When you make this at the restaurant, you always add lemon juice on top to give it more depth, but instead of the mayo, you have paprika-spiced tomato sauce on the side. Either way, this shows that Mingyu has been paying attention when you felt incognito.

“Dig in,” he announces, sitting next to you at the island bar.

It’s a comfortable silence between you three, munching away at your well-seasoned meal. If you had to be honest with yourself, it’s the best sandwich you have ever had. He fried the calamari in olive oil, turning it every minute or so because it doesn’t take that long to cook. He apparently had the calamari sitting in milk in the refrigerator since this morning, allowing it to tenderize before mixing it with his own seasoning flour. You and Shena offered to help, but he turned you down, stating you were his guests and he wanted to treat you to something good before you went out later that night.

“This was really good,” Shena praises him as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You have to come over again and make these for Lumina and me.”

“Anything for you two,” he teases. “As long as you keep making those margaritas.” They howl in laughter, and you feel a bit awkward as if they have an inside joke that you aren’t a part of. You smile politely, finishing off the last bit of your food before getting off your stool and grabbing your plate to wash.

“Aht aht,” Shena blurts, scrambling out of her seat. “I will be handling the cleanup. You two sit out there and act like you like each other.”

Your eyes throw darts at her for that last sentence, and she blows you a kiss as you walk to the balcony for some fresh air. The warm sun is welcome on your skin, the warmth taking away the chill you have in your bones from inside. You stare out into the sea, watching the boats go back and forth from the ports, the busy life from the markets a site to behold. You feel completely at peace for the first time since you’ve been here.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Mingyu pokes his head out from the balcony door, holding a pink lemonade decorated with an umbrella.

“Sure, if you are bringing that,” you quip, pointing at the drink.

“Of course, princess,” he jests back.

As you take the drink, you raise an eyebrow, debating whether you should be annoyed at that nickname or amused that he’s teasing you. He stands comfortably next to you, admiring the cerulean blue waters in front of you.

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to leave.”

You look at him, his happy-go-lucky nature replaced by a look of sadness and longing. It’s unnerving, as you have always seen him with a warm orange aura around him. His hands grip the gate as he takes a softer, deeper breath, turning to face you.

��Can I ask you something?”

You nod slowly, your anxiety ticking up about what he wants to ask.

“What got you into cooking?”

You look away, staring back into the calm sea. No one has bothered to ask you anything personally about yourself besides Shena and Lumina, and you are unsure how to respond. It would mean opening a part of you to someone new, and you haven’t done that in a long time. It means that you would have to relieve your past and start trusting him, and you are scared of that.

Stepping across the magical line of faith and hope, you take a sip of your lemonade. “My grandma used to cook a lot growing up, and I would sit in the kitchen and watch her. Whatever you wanted, she could make it. My parents weren’t around, and she was the one who raised me. I eventually started cooking with her, which spurned my love for cooking, but mainly because I was doing it with her.” You pause, your breath shaky as you relive one of the hardest moments of your life. “On Christmas, I found her unconscious beside her chair. Apparently, she had a stroke and didn’t have oxygen for fifteen minutes before I saw her. I did everything I could to save her by hooking her with her oxygen machine before the paramedics arrived, but it was too late. She was declared brain dead.”

Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, embarrassed that you let yourself reach this point in front of Mingyu. He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to cry a little in his arms. Unbeknownst to you, Shena walks out and notices your tears, but Mingyu shushes her quietly, allowing you to grieve just a little bit longer. You regain your composure, giving yourself some space and adjusting his shirt. “I ruined your shirt,” you pout. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly. “You need something to lean on, and I’m glad I got to be that for you.”

Gazing into his eyes, you see the familiar warm orange swirling in his little orbs. Inadvertently, you move closer to him, your heart and body overruling your mind for once. Mingyu responds kindly, pulling you closer to him with his hands dangerously on your hips.

“Is it okay if I—”

“Mingyu, do it before I change my mind.”

His lips press against yours, and your legs almost buckle. It is soft and tentative, as if he is playing it safe in case you want out. But you don’t; instead, you kiss him deeper. It is as if something takes over you, and you can’t stop. Call it desire, passion, or any other synonym, but it’s what you feel. You want him, and so does he. His hands travel lower, giving your butt a soft squeeze, and you accidentally moan in his mouth. You think he likes it, though, because his bulge is hardening against your center.

“If we don’t stop, there is no coming back from this,” he breathes.

Your mind regains consciousness at those words; you know he is right. With one last kiss, you begrudgingly pull away, walking back inside and squarely bumping into Shena.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She joked while taking a good look at you.

“Nothing, let’s just go,” you insist. “We still have to get ready for tonight and all.”

Shena looks at you and the balcony suspiciously but doesn’t say anything; honestly, you appreciate that. You don’t know how you can answer any questions she may throw at you. All you know right now is Mingyu drives you fucking crazy.

Part 2 will be coming soon. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are much appreciated :)

tag: @nonuify

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt angst #svt suggestive #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 1 year ago

Text

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

thursday, sung hanbin— poetry ii

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 3.5k (it's a doozy but it's worth it i literally am so happy with this one)

⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ thursday summary: thursday. good news: the week is almost over. bad news: you're stuck in poetry class with sung hanbin as your desk partner. it's weird. sometimes you play off each other so well, you're nearly blindsided by his sudden flipping of the switch. if only you could steal a glimpse at his journal.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. very toxic softboi/popular soccer star hanbinnie. guys THE LORE. you very well may not survive til the end of the week but we're already on this journey together so let's see it through!!! smut in gn and fem versions are slightly different due to logistics/circumstance. also there's two parts i wrote in here that made me laugh way too hard okay bye. xx

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★☆(4.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble.

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting.

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral.

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you.

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence.

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust... and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”

“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you.

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem.

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life.

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation.

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side.

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat.

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out.

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment.

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you.

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him.

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.