#I’m so sorry that I complained so much about my sprained ankle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hisunshiine · 1 year ago

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—grey area: avoiding the red | ksj

📈pairing: CFO!seokjin x senior accounting manager!reader 📈au/genre: CEO au, fake dating au, c2l, fluff, smut, angst 📈rating: M 📈wc: 27,659 📈warnings: swearing, vulgar statements, misogyny, eventual mutual pining, fake dating bet, leg injury/sprain, minor boat crash, explicit sexual content: strawberry juice dripping, straddling, making out, clothed grinding, marking, fingering, consent seeking, foreplay, unprotected sex, cock riding, wall sex, stairs sex, mutual orgasm, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, hair pulling 📈an: beta readers: @peachiilovesot7, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, @pennpad-bts thank you so much for all of your beta reading and brainstorming and help! to all my readers who have stuck by me, you mean the world. I am so sorry it took me so long to post this, but it's finally here! 📈summary: Recently inducted CFO Kim Seokjin is the head of finances at JinHit Conglomerate after his father retires. You, the senior accounting manager for the company, begin to stomp around in your heels complaining about areas that need mitigating for the business to continue to run smoothly after a meeting gone wrong. When Seokjin makes a bet with you to see if the two of you can hide a romantic relationship from work peers, several things are revealed OR The one where Seokjin wants to get you only in your heels.

taglist: @flxrcnt @ggukkieland @yoongisdragon

in the red (idiom): spending and owing more money than is being earned

Jaw clenched tightly as you ignore the tension running through your body, your finger slowly scrolls the webpage you’re viewing on your laptop. Price tags be damned, you couldn’t care less about the cost of the bejeweled heels—you had to have them. It will just have to wait a few paychecks before you can purchase them. If you could even afford them after today. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment; a gorgeous colored pump that would be the pièce de résistance to an all black or white outfit.

Online shopping is one of your favorite coping skills, a great calming technique to get your mind off the email you received almost a half hour ago, for a meeting you were summoned to attend in five minutes. A meeting JinHit’s Board of Directors summoned you to attend, to be exact. You checked the email several times, opening the list of recipients to full view to see everyone who was invited, and the vein throbbing in your forehead pulses at the reminder.

Only the C-Suite and the heads of each department will be in attendance, and the knowledge of what this could mean sends a shiver down your rigid spine. Seokjin had asked you to prepare the financial report last week for the board to review; it doesn’t seem coincidental that the meeting is being called a day after you sent it.

Adjusting your position where you sit in the meeting room currently, having arrived earlier than normal to choose your favorite seat, you cross a leg over your thigh, bouncing your matte black Balenciaga Knife 110MM pumps in time with your anxiety.

“Can you please just relax?” Seokjin mutters. “The constant bouncing is giving me a headache.”

You grit your teeth, molars grinding against each other as you hold back your remarks. Easy for you to say, you think, not all of us have the luxury to relax. Stilling the ankle that was flexing up and down in a jittery dance, you lower your leg and straighten your slacks.

“I’m sorry, sir.” My leg wouldn’t bother you if you hadn’t followed me from the accounting wing. “The board meeting has me worried. If office gossip on WeVerse is anything to go by, I’m afraid we might not be employed for much longer.”

Jin twirls a Montblanc fountain pen worth more than your monthly rent as he stares at you, nonplussed.

“I highly doubt that, Kicks. There’s no need to exaggerate. You’re busy looking at expensive heels again, anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

You huff at the nickname he’s bestowed upon you for your shoe obsession, rolling your eyes as you close them before taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Maybe you’ll still be CFO of JinHit, sir, but not all of us are nepo-babies. If anyone is going to be fired, it’ll be me. So I’m looking at heels to see the last thing I can purchase with my severance pay before I’m destitute. Sir.”

“I don’t know why you bother keeping up pretenses by calling me ‘sir’ when you talk to me like that,” he mutters. “Calling me a damn nepo-baby.”

You run down the list of all of the attendees in your head once more. Kim Namjoon, CEO, Kim Seokjin, CFO, Min Yoongi, General Counsel (the company's main attorney and primary source of legal advice), Jung Hoseok, JinHit Entertainment Division manager, Kim Taehyung, recently promoted Property Acquisition Division Manager, Jeon Jungkook, CIO, yourself, and a few other heads of departments you aren’t as familiar with. Lastly, all of the board members, minus Park Jimin’s father, though he’s in the room instead, stepping in for his father who is away on vacation.

“You make me laugh, Kicks. I’m so glad to have you by my side.” Seokjin can’t help but chuckle.

“If only I could say the same,” you grumble under your breath.

“One day, you’ll say you love me.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the men walking in through the door. Discreetly you close the tab to the Jimmy Choo website and pull up your email instead, awaiting the soft ding! that alerts you to the agenda and any additional documents you will need.

The room is full of the sounds of creaking leather and quiet chatter as the gentlemen settle into their seats for the meeting to commence.

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“This is an outrage!”

“What have the heads of finance been doing? Getting their fucking dicks wet by fucking secretaries in the janitor’s closet?”

You narrow your eyes at the older man who had the audacity to speak in such a way during a meeting, seemingly forgetting that the Senior Accounting Manager is you, and that you do not have a dick to fuck said secretary with.

“Please, Mr. Choi, the finance department has been working just as much as everyone else, and the Senior Accounting Manager,” the CEO gestures to you as he reminds the man of your name, “she has been more than transparent with me about the state of our finances for this quarter.”

The other men in the room appear to have the wherewithal to look flummoxed at Mr. Choi’s outburst in the presence of a woman, but their reactions don't keep his thin lips quiet.

“So, she’s the one getting fucked in the janitor’s closet. Either way, the finances are abysmal and something must be done!” Mr. Choi throws a printed copy of your financial report in your direction, and you can see the top sheet flutter onto the floor with your name splashed across it. He was being obtuse on purpose—he knew damn well who prepared the financial report.

Seokjin’s hand clamps down on your thigh, holding you back from lunging across the table at the grey-haired misogynist as he speaks.

“Please, Mr. Choi, I know you’re a little jealous that no one is fucking you,” everyone in the room laughs at Seokjin’s light banter, “but I promise you, the finance department is working on options to help make up for the expenses.”

Incensed, Mr. Choi stands up, face red with fury at being made a fool. You almost expect him to turn his ire on Seokjin for his words, but the reality of the situation is that Mr. Choi would never dare to curse out the son of the previous CFO and namesake of the company.

“As the Senior Accounting Manager,” he starts with a sneer, “you should’ve had a better handle on what was happening right under your nose.” He thrusts his fat finger at you, spittle flying as his anger gains traction. “This is why women shouldn’t be in positions like this. You’re useless to this company, and if it were up to me, I would fire you for letting the company get so close to the red line. Seokjin, she reflects poorly on you.”

“Mr. Choi.” Namjoon’s tone is final as he rises to his feet, dragon eyes cutting daggers. “Please respect my employees.” The ‘or else’ is not said, but implied.

You shake with rage, holding back tears of frustration at how no one is coming to your defense. Sure, the CEO asked the board member to respect you, but only after said board member had already besmirched your name. After he had so rudely made insinuations about how poorly he thinks of you and ignored that Kim Seokjin is the Chief Financial Officer and the true overseer of the finances. No one says anything to defend your honor or put the man in his place for talking to an employee this way.

“I’ll respect her when she does her fucking job right! You have until the first quarter of the new year to fix this shit.” Mr. Choi turns and leaves the room dramatically, and for once, you’re glad that you didn’t say anything, because you aren’t fired—yet. Had you opened your mouth, you might have been.

The rest of the room quietly turns to light talk as you direct your heated face to the open report on your laptop. The finances for the year highlight some of the major spending across the departments totalling several million once all added together; several million that were not accounted for at the start of the year when budgets were drawn up and outlined.

First, there was the $2 million dollar loss from the Property Acquisition department thanks to one Kim Taehyung and late paperwork, then stocks dropped from the Facebook video released of C-Suite members and the impromptu start of the non-profit side company NAMU. The cost of going green to implement practices to support NAMU and raise the value of the stocks once again, and the cost of acquiring a new partnership with LeeCo Cosmetics due to Hoseok’s arranged marriage.

“Ahem,” Namjoon clears his throat, calling everyone’s attention. “Now that everyone has had ample time to review the finance report, I think the best way forward is to come up with a plan to implement for the start of the next quarter to change the projection of the report away from the red line.”

“How long do we have to develop a plan?” Seokjin asks, eyes darting over to your silently seething frame.

“You have the month, Jin. December will be spent researching in order to make a decision and create a plan to implement in January. We will re-evaluate the financial report at the end of the first quarter to ensure that there are no negative consequences for the decisions we’ve made, and go from there. Remember, the fiscal year ends March 31st, so we only have the quarter to fix this. Dismissed.”

The room empties out, with Namjoon cutting his eyes at Seokjin to keep him seated. You still needed to gather the documents and calm down before you did something rash, so it’s just the three of you left once the door swings shut.

“Seokjin, I understand why, but do you have to always be so unserious?” Namjoon sighs out.

“What do you mean? I was just giving back what he was dishing out,” Seokjin defends, not seeing the issue with what transpired.

“You know he went and called your dad as soon as he walked out of the room, right?”

“And? The man retired—I’m the CFO now, not my father. It’ll be fine!”

Namjoon just stares at him, before giving you a pitying look that you despise. You know he means it more as sympathy for how you were treated, but it makes you feel different from the others somehow, like you can’t handle the atmosphere of the “wealthy businessmen club”. He nods at you both before he stands and leaves, and Seokjin is not far behind him.

You bend down to gather the documents once your breathing has regulated.

You were right to have been worried about this meeting.

The first week after that dreaded meeting, you spend your time researching the various financial avenues the company has and begin to dissect them for potential areas of mitigation. Seokjin pulls you aside into one of his many offices, this one located on the financing floor, and tries to talk to you about what happened with Mr. Choi, but you don’t let him get but a few words out before cutting in to tell him off for letting you take the blame as soon as the door closes behind you.

“You actually sat there and didn’t say anything to that sexist pig!” You jab Seokjin in the chest to emphasize the last three syllables. “I should report him to HR for sexual harassment! That’ll teach the geriatric asshole.”

Grabbing your shoulders gently, Seokjin leans his face down to your height. Maintaining a calm, soothing tone, he attempts to placate you. “Kicks, I did speak up, but he’s my godfather and I can’t go around cursing my daebu (대부) at work—”

“You didn’t speak up to support me, Seokjin, you made a joke and defended the department, but he was attacking me, and you didn’t say shit. None of you did.”

Pulling away from him, you wrap your arms around yourself as if to self-soothe with a hug, taking several deep breaths to compose yourself. His touches have been growing more frequent lately, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re acting like a deranged woman since the dreaded meeting, or if you’re noticing it because of other reasons. Not that you would ever date a coworker or anything…

Stepping away from him allows you a chance to breathe, despite how nice it feels when he uses physical contact to comfort you. Arranging your features, you steady yourself as you turn on your heel to face him again.

“I’m sorry for my language, sir. If you will excuse me, I’ll take my lunch now and then we can meet to discuss my findings.”

Without waiting for Seokjin to respond, you step around him and exit his office. You walk towards your desk and grab your convertible laptop and a thin manila folder before you head out of the finance wing. Trekking through the hallways to the elevator, you shake off the outburst as you pass through the waist-high metal safety gate and into the lobby. You hear a high-pitched voice yell out your name.

“Hey, I know you’re plenty busy, but I’ve been tasked with spearheading the holiday party committee, and we need your approval for the budget. Can you sign off on these documents for me?” Ji-Soo asks. “If I had the time, I would run this up to finance,” she adds, “Seokjin is so hot…Damn. How do you handle working so closely with him?”

The front desk representative bats her kohl-lined eyes at you, swinging her long black hair over her shoulder. Her flowy off-the-shoulder blouse reveals a cute, tiny heart-shaped tattoo inked onto her skin. You hate her insinuation that you’re attracted to your boss and the way her eyebrows move as if to suggest that you and Seokjin are anything like her and Jimin. You may find him good-looking, but you have more sense than to be seen C-Suite hopping.

Ignoring her second question, you respond, “I’m on my way to grab lunch, but I can review the documents and let you know if the budget is approved.”

Ji-Soo’s face morphs into one of distaste.

“Why do you need to review it? Can’t you just sign it now? Seokjin always approved the holiday party budgets in the past.”

You groan, knowing that you would be competing with the legacy Seokjin left behind after his promotion to CFO after his father stepped down for retirement. When it was okay to be fiscally irresponsible, because other employees hadn’t racked up millions in expenses out of the blue.

“Sorry, Ji-Soo. Orders from the stakeholders—all budgets have to be reviewed before approval.” You grasp the papers she unceremoniously brandished at you and tuck them into the manila folder. “I’ll get this back to you once it’s been properly assessed.”

“Hey!” Ji-Soo calls after you as you walk away from her, “I need that by the end of the week! Party planning is not cheap!”

Feet still moving, you wave your hand over your shoulder at her, not bothering to spare her a glance. “End of the week, got it!”

Lunch is boring; you hadn’t actually meant to leave for your thirty-minute break today, but after your outburst you felt some exercise would do you good. The small cafe near the office building is the perfect spot to set up your laptop and browse through documents, the Jimmy Choo website, and perk up with a late afternoon latte.

Opening up the fillable PDF file for budget assessment proposals, you begin reviewing the holiday party plans. It pains you to see some of the outlandish expenses they want: an ice sculpture of the company logo, open bar with top-shelf liquor, performance by an upcoming American artist breaking into the scene, and several gift packages for raffles, just to name a few.

Downing the rest of your coffee, you type up your review and draft an email to Ji-Soo, attaching a PDF scan of her proposal and your budget assessment, denying her requests. You ask her to reduce the cost of the party by several hundred thousand, providing a list of things she can mitigate to reach the approved goal, and then you turn on your auto reply so as to avoid her wrath. Walking back into the office building, you blend in with the after lunch crowd and make it back to the small finance department conference room to meet with Seokjin.

Seokjin’s POV

Kim Seokjin sits in the conference room in finance, several levels away from his office where the other C-Suite executives reside, waiting for you. Seokjin has worked with you for several years in finance before his promotion, and you were by far the most qualified Senior Accounting Manager he’s ever met.

He knows he’s lucky to have you, and not just for your skills and personality—you’re also easy on the eyes. Seokjin’s always been tempted to ask you out, cross that boundary of coworkers, but the timing’s never been right. With his promotion at the start of the year, the chasm has gotten wider, his resolve fading with it.

After you leave for your lunch break, he settles into the conference room replaying the way your hips swayed as you walked away from him. Chuckling at the way your perfect image cracked and he got to hear his name roll off of your tongue—that is until the smile is wiped away as he remembers what led to it. You were right. He didn’t defend you in that meeting earlier in the week, simply too gobsmacked by Mr. Choi’s choice of words to even think clearly. The image it put into his head, you in the hallway closet with those legs wrapped around his waist, letting him fuck you into oblivion—in just those heels you stomp around in, so authoritative-like…Seokjin licks his lips as his fingers clench the edge of his desk, before he shakes the image away.

He hates that you feel like you do; growing up he spent so much time at the office, running around with Namjoon as their dads built the company from the ground up, and the women in the office always took care of them.

Mrs. Im was the payroll bookkeeper when he was just a child; his love for numbers and accounting started with her. She tutored him in math through primary school, even helping him pass the Suneung, or the CSAT national test, to get into college. He saw how hard it was for her to move up in the department, often being looked over for her male counterparts, despite being better than them. As far as the finance department goes, payroll is the lowest on the totem pole. Mrs. Im only made it one level up to Staff Accountant, despite being able to count circles around the men and it never seemed fair.

Now, the company is much more with the times, with many women in not only the finance department, but in information technology, and men in nontraditional roles as well, like the secretary who is in the entertainment department, Kai. As for your position, the only person above you in the hierarchy is himself, and some days Seokjin wishes he could promote you into his role for all your hard work. He curses his daebu in his head for the way his backwards thinking has negatively affected you, and then curses himself for not being able to support you the way you deserved in that meeting.

Seokjin fields text messages from his father about the company’s finances, Namjoon’s assumption that Mr. Choi called his father, having been correct. It’s been an ongoing conversation since the moment he left the meeting—his father bothering him day and night about his behavior.

아버지 (Father) - 12:48 pm : You should not have spoken like that in a meeting. Choi told me that you were talking back, not taking any accountability for the financial crisis the company could be facing, and that girl was impertinent. For once, can you just take this job seriously? Can you take your life seriously? Jin - 12:49 pm: Aren’t you retired?

Once your lunch break ends, Seokjin can’t hide the smile on his face as you enter the room, setting your belongings on the table with a sigh.

“Ji-Soo stopped me as I was leaving to talk about the holiday party. Can we discuss it at the end of the meeting?”

“Of course. Let’s get the business out of the way, then.”

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“Absolutely not.”

“But sir, the amount of money that we spend every month on the Friday event, especially with it being a half day of work getting done…even to reduce it for the first quarter could make significant gains to remain in the black.”

Seokjin crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back in the office chair.

“You have to understand, Kicks. The Friday event is only once a month. It’s important for employee morale, not to mention the amount of impact we have on the community right here. There’s the Cho family who runs the Korean street food truck. Half of their monthly revenue comes from this one day. The parents have a daughter in college and she has a small son they look after while she’s in class. They wouldn’t be able to support them both without us.”

You level Seokjin with a gaze that he wishes he could act upon, taking you up on the challenge it serves.

“You want to continue Fun Fridays to save this ONE restaurant?” you ask, leaning your elbows onto the table as you peer closely at Seokjin, analyzing him. Your hands are clasped tightly in front of you as you hold back the urge to fix the wayward strand of hair that falls across his forehead.

“Well, no—not just this one. It helps all of the local companies who come out to provide for us—this was just an example that should pull at your heartstrings.” Seokjin leans towards you, placing his hand atop yours to sell the sentimental connection he’s using to keep Fridays as is. “These are real people who rely on us. And our employees rely on them. People want to work here and our stocks do well because the employees brag about once-a-month Fridays on WeVerse. It would be foolhardy to our reputation to remove it.” He gestures dramatically with his hands to emphasize just how foolhardy he finds it, and you suddenly miss the warmth of his hand on yours.

“Fine.” You look down at the next item on the list, gathering your thoughts away from the dangerous path of Seokjin’s hands on yours. “My next proposal is to make a change to the employee health benefits. I looked into it and we can lower company costs if we choose the specific provider for employees. I’ve found a clinic with three primary care doctors that provided us with an estimate. They project to have a great low cost for the company and there would be less contribution from the employees as well. A win-win.”

You smugly slide over the information you gathered for Seokjin’s review. He can’t help but admit to himself that this is a possible option. He doesn’t like that it would throw off the plans already in place, but as long as the doctors are reputable, he feels confident in this choice.

“Can you tell me a little bit about the clinic or the doctors we would be assigned?”

“Sure, uh, their names are…Hyun Yong-in, Jung Hyun-tae and Lee Wan-soo. They work for—”

“—Incheon 21st Century Hospital,” Seokjin interrupts. You glower at him.

“Next idea.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because, Kicks, if you had done a little more digging, you would know why the fee is so low. They had a massive lawsuit, malpractice and fraud, allowing interns and assistants to perform surgery on patients without consent or supervision. They should’ve lost their licenses. I didn’t realize they were done with their jail time. Two years goes by fast.”

He watches you pale visibly at the news, just a few shades lighter than normal as you swallow the information. Folding his convertible laptop so that it becomes a touchscreen tablet, he taps for a few moments before proffering the screen to you.

“Oh,” you gulp. “Well, I have one more idea to help the company.”

Pulling out the printed paper from the manila folder, you pass the list of departments to Seokjin for him to review.

“These are all of the departments of JinHit Conglomerate with a brief description of what they handle.” Leaning over, you point to a small subsection under the Information Technology sector. “This right here is a small department that is listed under IT, but could also be considered Marketing. It houses the Social Media Managers—three employees who oversee engagement, content, and analytics for the company’s online platforms and presence.”

Seokjin nods.

“Yes, they are the ones who caught wind of the video Khaity posted…We had to make sure that moving forward they didn’t contact the board first, but me and Joon.” Seokjin shakes his head at the memory. “That was a shitshow,” he mutters.

“Well, take a look at the expenses this department has incurred. The cost of new equipment for all three members, including desktops here in the office and work devices, to take on the go and to have at home; high-speed gigabit internet speeds, several purchases for access to databases and systems to track the company name and various projects we are working on, a stipend for food—I don’t even know why they need that—plus these charges to the company card for a massage therapist to come in-house three times a week!” You huff in indignation at the ridiculousness of the expenses as Seokjin’s phone chimes from an incoming message.

“So what are you proposing we do? Cut out massages? Or are you offering to be my personal masseuse? I have a few areas you could—”

“I will call HR so quick—”

“I’m kidding, sheesh! You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered! Anyway,” you redirect the conversation away from another spiraling train of thought as your tablet dings, “this department incurs more expenses per member than some of the entertainment sector, so I think we need to merge these workers into other departments with a significant decrease to the special treatment they have been receiving and do a sweep through ALL department expenses, mitigating all of the superfluous things, like fucking massage therapists being on-call in-house three times a week.”

“The employees are not going to like this—we've always allowed them the ability to not be micromanaged when it comes to workplace spending,” Seokjin answers, but he knows this is the best bet to meet the board’s requirements and stay on your good side. “But okay.”

“Great. I’ll draft the memo to be sent out as soon as possible so that from now on, all expenses will be reviewed by me before charges can be processed by the company.” A quiet pinging chimes as you talk. “All spending must go through a request and approval process. I’ve already drafted the forms for requesting funds, and this is a great segue into Ji-Soo and the holiday party. She can be the first to complete the new process for approval, since I’ve already completed the form and sent it to her.”

Jin huffs out a disbelieving chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment of relief.

“Well, that explains the back-to-back emails she’s sent while we’ve been talking. She must not understand that emails are not like text messages.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that Ji-Soo is surpassing the CEO with her IQ score.” You click the keys on the tablet keyboard, avoiding looking at Seokjin, lest you start to laugh as another ding fills the silence from his constantly chirping phone.

“Kicks! It’s so rare to see you snip back—she must’ve done something to get under your skin.” Seokjin smirks, thinking about how he wants to be next.

“Just thinking about how if we could fire some people, that would also help with costs.”

“For now, we’ll stick to option three and your plan to assess all company fund requests. I’ll report this to Namjoon and you can work on your memo. And please, if you love me at all,” Seokjin pauses so that he can stand up and gather his device and pen, “reply to Ji-Soo before she files a complaint.”

“Yes, sir.” And you will, but not because you have any kind of feelings for your boss.

Reader POV

Ji-Soo is not happy with the reply email you sent to her, but you don’t care. Unfortunately, it’s your job that’s on the line, though you wish it would be hers. Her many office dalliances are of no secret to you thanks to being so close to one of the C-Suite employees, but there isn’t much you can do about it.

The rest of the weekend and following week is spent writing up the memo for the CEO to approve and send out to all departments, prepping all of the review documents you will be using for requests, and meeting with the CIO, Jeon Jungkook, to discuss the rearranging of the IT Departments so that the staff members can be placed accordingly.

Friday afternoon, a reminder email comes through about the Company Holiday party happening tomorrow. You didn’t forget about it—not with the way Ji-Soo bothers you almost daily about how hard it is to plan the event with the limited funds you provided her. You roll your eyes at her email—the slight dig at the change of venue due to the financial department’s mitigations did not go unmissed by you.

In actuality, she has the same amount of money for decorations and food as previous years—making her use the JinHit building as the location instead of renting out an expensive ballroom or hotel conference room allowed you to approve her decorations, food, and drink budget.

Moving the email into the relevant folder, you close down your computer for the weekend, excited to finally be done with the long week. You plan to attend the event, and as you pack up your belongings to head home, you think through the various outfits in your closet to piece together what you might want to wear.

“Hey, Kicks!” Seokjin’s loud voice calls out to you as you wait for the elevator car to arrive on your floor. The finance department is located on the 48th floor, below the C-Suite offices, and it isn’t every day that people frequently travel this high. Most of the Property Acquisition department left earlier, also located on this floor; so the quiet atmosphere allows his voice to travel farther than usual.

“Hey, Seokjin. Have a good weekend,” you say in greeting and farewell so as to not prolong a conversation. He doesn’t take the hint and steps next to you, his heady cologne filling the elevator waiting area. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead, showing his annoyingly handsome face, and you turn away from his brown eyes smiling at you.

“Oh, I’m sure this weekend will be more than good. Are you coming tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Need to witness with my own eyes how it turns out so Ji-Soo can’t lie.”

Seokjin laughs as the elevator sounds to alert that the carriage has arrived. The two of you board, the enclosed space unsurprisingly empty. Being alone with him is nothing you aren’t used to—but lately you’re noticing he’s frustratingly handsome, which makes it harder for you to still blame him for the finance meeting debacle.

“Sounds like something she would do,” he finishes after laughing, pressing the button to the 50th floor, causing the trajectory of the elevator to lurch upward.

“Seokjin!”

“What? You know I have two offices and I left my briefcase upstairs. Wait for me, please?” he begs as the door opens and he takes off at a slow jog down the hallway. You sigh, pressing the door open button a few times as you wait for him to return. You’re annoyed and ready to go home, and this just highlights how much he enjoys getting under your skin and earning a reaction from you. He’s back quickly, only slightly out of breath as you press the button for the ground floor.

“Thanks, Kicks. It’s creepy leaving here by myself.”

You look at him incredulously.

“It’s not creepy. Most of the lights are still on!”

“Barely! Plus now that it’s winter, the sun sets earlier. Look,” he gestures out the elevator’s tinted glass window. “It’s already setting.”

“It’s not setting, it just looks darker because the glass is tinted for shade so we don’t fry on the way up to the office.”

“If it’s hot in here, I can get off,” he offers, pointing to the button for the 37th floor that he can press to stop the motion of the elevator’s descent.

“You really think you’re hot, huh?”

“You don’t agree?” Seokjin challenges, stepping into your space. His arms cage your body in, and he tilts his head to look down at you. You fight the urge to stare at his lips, instead biting your own as you maintain eye contact.

“Oh Seokjin, there are so many things I don’t agree with you on.” You decide to take this opportunity and fluster him for a change. You close the gap dividing you from Seokjin and begin to run your hand along the top of his head, as if in a loving manner. You hold back a laugh at the way his eyes close in contentment at the feel of your fingers sliding along his scalp, unaware of your actual goal. Your fingers curl around his locks, giving you a good grip to pull his head back and away from you.

“Ow, ow!” He hollers as he steps away from you, releasing you from the tension built within his arms.

“Sorry, sir.” Smugly, you cross your arms as he rubs at his scalp while shooting daggers at you, knowing it’s all in jest.

The two of you continue to playfully banter on the way down to the main lobby, parting ways as he heads to his reserved parking spot and you walk to the bus stop near the building that most employees utilize to get home.

📈📈📈📈📈

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you fix your dress, eyes leaving the thigh slit in your dress to gaze at the black Louis Vuitton FAME pumps adorning your feet. The cocktail dress is black, showing off ample shoulder and legs, while accentuating all of your best body parts. Grabbing your winter coat and clutch, you head downstairs to the waiting KakaoTaxi that will take you to the office.

The lobby of JinHit is full of people arriving, greeting each other and taking photos in front of the ice sculpture of the company logo. On the other side of the main desk from the elevators, a makeshift coat check has been erected, with a small line of your coworkers turning in their heavy coats so they can enjoy the party. After dropping off your own jacket, you make your way to the elevator, waving salutations to coworkers you see. The CEO’s secretary, NaBi, poses with the CIO, Jungkook, in front of a beautiful backdrop of a snowy forest, fake snow falling from a machine positioned above. Yoongi and Jimin stand to one side, clearly arguing back and forth about something, though both have a smile on their face. Reaching the elevator, the doors open as soon as you press the button, and you’re quickly rising to the 5th floor.

The 5th floor is often referred to as the Study Area, because it houses several quiet areas for the employees to access. The entertainment section uses it the most, with the various celebrities signed to JinHit doing work, studying their craft, and holding meetings in the rooms. The first door, and the main location of the party is called The Library, because one side of the wall is filled with bookshelves and books, while the opposite side holds floor-to-ceiling glass windows. There is a balcony within The Library that looks down upon the main floor, and tonight, it’s filled with white covered tables with a good sized area for people to dance and mingle.

As you take in the decorations, you can’t help but admire Ji-Soo’s efforts, and when she appears from a side door directing a working staffer on the placement of silverware, you tell her so.

“Thank you, YN…not that your goal to cut down on spending was of any help.”

“Yes, I am sure that this is not the venue you had in mind, but you’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Wow, babes, this looks great!” Jimin walks into the room, followed by Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Yes, I worked very hard for almost two weeks on planning this.” Ji-Soo curls herself into Jimin’s arms as he wraps an arm around her waist. They walk further into the room to allow the crowd to enter, and soon The Library is full of people grabbing plates for the buffet line and getting drinks from the bar set up beneath the balcony. You decide to get a drink first, avoiding the crowd lining up to get first dibs on the food emitting a delicious aroma into the room.

The bartender is skilled, shaking bottles and pouring liquor for your waiting coworkers. The Malibu Bay Breeze you ordered is paired with a couple of cherries that sway in the glass as it slides down the bar to you. Taking a sip, you enjoy the refreshing taste of the cran-pineapple and coconut rum as it takes over your tastebuds.

“What did you order? Is it good?”

You nod your head at NaBi, who recently joined you at the bar, as you take another long sip from the thin black straw.

“It’s perfect! Not overly sweet, but the rum isn’t overpowering it either.”

“I’ll have to try that one after I finish my amaretto sour.” She gestures to the bartender who is mixing her order.

“They taste so good, I bet the party will get a little wild soon.”

You both look at the crowd on the dance floor, surprised that so many people are already swaying to the beat and most of the tables are full with diners. The event planner is wrapped around Jimin, body gyrations bordering on dangerously inappropriate for a work party. NaBi laughs at the display before leaving you alone to join her work husband, Jungkook, at a table near the thrusting lovebirds.

Heading to the buffet line, you decide to eat before you order a second drink, wanting to keep some semblance of control over your gross motor functions and not end up as the gossip all over the WeVerse App.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Wow, Kicks…you look amazing.”

You try your best to turn around slowly, but the alcohol seems to come out of nowhere and you’re a little wobbly on your platform pumps. Luckily, you didn’t choose a stiletto, or you might have fallen straight into your boss.

“Hello, sir. Thank you.” You blink a few times, trying to get his handsome face to stop turning into triplets.

“Why are you hiding up here?” He looks down at your coworkers from where you’re both standing against the clear railing of the balcony. “Are you okay? Too much to drink?”

“You know? I think the juice tricked me. It was sweet so I had a few more than I usually would…now you have twin brothers.”

Seokjin guffaws loudly, but the music is now so loud it doesn’t draw anyone’s attention.

“You look a bit flushed, do you want me to get you some water?”

“Actually, yes, can we go get water? I was afraid to go downstairs in case I tripped and fell.”

Seokjin nods, offering his arm to you so that you can balance as he walks you over to the stairs to guide you down them safely. You thank him as he leads the way to the bar, loosening his bowtie as he motions for two water bottles. You fan your face as he uses one hand to pick up the bottles placed on the bar, and taking in your current state, Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back to head towards the outdoor access entrance through the glass wall.

The winter chill of the night air is soothing to your hot skin and you sink into the patio loveseat to rest your heels and your eyes.

“Here,” the crackling of the water bottle opening signals you to reach your hand out blindly and grasp the cool plastic.

A big gulp and deep breath help immensely, and you feel the loveseat dip as Seokjin drops down next to you. His body heat radiates comfortingly, and you catch yourself cuddling into his side. You miss the way Seokjin’s eyes sparkle at the initiation of touch.

“So, despite cutting costs, the annual holiday party turned out pretty well, I think,” Seokjin says, raising his water to his plush lips to drink before continuing, “did you have fun?”

“We’re still here, but yes, I am having fun. Thank you for getting me outside. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good,” he murmurs as you curl into him more, seeking his heat. He hesitates before lowering his arm around the back of the loveseat, resting it behind you as if to welcome you into his space more. “I can’t believe it’s already December.”

You sit upright, a gasp leaving your mouth as his words ring in your eyes.

“Oh my god, it’s December.”

“I know I just said tha—”

“I missed your birthday!”

Seokjin watches your face as it cycles through all of the stages of grief before settling on a pouty acceptance.

“It’s no big deal, I didn’t get to celebrate much with everything going on right now. We’ve had to stay late and double check the daily financial reports, and I’ve been meeting with the department heads and it’s not a big birthday anyways. Next year though, you better remember.”

You nod solemnly, tipsiness clouding your ability to see through his playful manner. “Yes, sir. I will, I promise.”

Seokjin chuckles at your seriousness, hand moving to the top of your head where he smooths down the pieces that were disturbed when you had leaned into him. You preen at the touch, chest pushing into his side as you close your eyes and enjoy the feel of his fingers against your hair.

“You’re cute when you drink.”

You glare at him as best as you can, but it just makes him laugh harder.

“So, what do you want for your birthday? Or for Christmas since I missed this year?”

Seokjin’s face turns thoughtful, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes look to the night sky in thought.

“I think…I just want my father to recognize how much I actually care about the company. I’m trying to be the best CFO I can be, but man, if by Christmas he can relax from hounding me over the finances, that would be fucking great. If not, by next year we better be as far from the red as possible.”

His words strike a chord with you. The past week that you’ve been working hard at the mitigation plans and finance approvals, you didn’t even take into account how busy Seokjin was—to the point he didn’t even make a fuss about his birthday. He’d actually been really helpful, providing you with information to make your job easier.

“We will be, Jin,” you promise, “you’re doing a great job helping me with mitigating things. Speaking of—I wish we could mitigate her.” You stare pointedly through the window back into the building, where a very drunk Park Jimin has his white shirt unbuttoned seductively low as an equally drunk Ji-Soo is taking pictures of him with her phone.

“Ji-Soo? She’s harmless.”

“No one who has slept with a C-Suite executive is ever harmless to a company. Workplace romances rarely work out. She isn’t harmless; she’s a risk, and untouchable right now.”

A strong gust causes Seokjin to shiver, unconsciously pulling you closer to his body and you seek his warmth. Closing your eyes, you cuddle into his broad chest as you listen to him continue with the conversation.

“She’s just the front desk secretary, Kicks.”

“Exactly. A lower level employee who has slept with both Kim Namjoon, the CEO, and Park Jimin, a board member’s son—who knows who else is on the list. She can choose to sell her stories to the highest bidder, at any time, for any reason. But she does her job, so we have no reason to fire her that wouldn’t be contestable in a court.”

“Ohhhh,” Seokjin’s eyebrows raise cutely, “the risk is that she could cause us to spend money in court, be tied up in litigation, or spend money on a settlement.”

“I knew you were the CFO for a reason,” you smile up at him from where he has you comfortably tucked, and he looks so handsome from this view.

“Ah, Kicks, you need to have a little fun in your life. No risk, no reward.” He winks at you, and under the city lights, he looks dazzling. “I would also like to point out something you may or may not be privy to…but I happen to know there are currently four successful workplace romances happening at this moment. They’re cute,” he sighs wistfully, “I wish I had a cute work boo.”

“Yes, I am privy to this knowledge, seeing as I work with you, gossip queen,” you tease, “but also, relationships can look one way to outsiders, but in reality, there could be all sorts of issues, abuse, infidelity, petty arguments…”

“Yeah, those are my friends outside of work—accusing them of abuse and cheating is a bit of a reach to try and prove your singular example right.” He looks at you thoughtfully. “I bet if we were dating, we would easily be successful. Not everything is a risk.”

“If we were dating, we wouldn’t be stupid like them,” you nod back to where the two lovebirds are canoodling in the shadowed corner of the room, “but still risky nonetheless.”

“How about this…I’ll take you out on a few dates, and we can see if anyone we work with catches wind of our fake relationship. I think we could keep it under wraps for two weeks.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“How about those pretty Jimmy Choo heels you were eyeing? Prove me wrong and they’re yours.”

You feel your eyes grow wide, imagining those coveted heels on your feet as you walk into work once the new year rolls in.

“I’m feeling like I may regret this in the morning, but what the hell, I want those shoes…It’s a deal.”

📈📈📈📈📈

The following Sunday evening finds you lounging around at home, cleaning and doing laundry as you sip a glass of red wine and come up with your list of rules for your challenge with Seokjin. In the light of day and with sober minds, you texted each other, realizing that you need some way to measure the challenge. Also, he needed to make sure that you weren’t set on sabotaging the relationship from jump, just to get the shoes.

Jin (8:47 PM): I’ve thought about it, and here are my rules. Okay? We’re dating, so act like we’re dating but be discreet and don’t tell anyone and win on purpose. You (8:47 PM): That’s…so professional of you. Jin (8:48 PM): There you go again… You (8:49 PM): Shut up. You (8:50 PM): Anyways, here’s what I came up with: [Link to spreadsheet] No telling anyone that we’re dating during these 2 weeks ~Saturday Dec 9 - Saturday Dec 23 Must go on 6 dates, 3 each week, with at least one date each week right after work, where you drive us Have to attend two meetings together with other coworkers and successfully get away with the following: Disappear at the same time from desk/office during peak work hours for 30 minutes, twice during week 2 without anyone growing suspicious of the two of us missing Jin (9:02 PM): I appreciate your attention to detail, but also, you kind of take the fun out of the dating part. You (9:04 PM): You want to make sure I don’t cheat, and I want to make sure you don’t either. So, in order to test this accurately, we need to be able to measure it. By having set actions and goals we have to get away with, I think this is the best way to determine who wins in the end. Jin (9:05 PM): We could just act like a couple and wing it, but I guess knowing what to do with you is easier. You like being touched…noted. You (9:06 PM): Don’t make it awkward. Jin (9:06 PM): You didn’t mention kissing at work? Are we doing that? I think it would be fun. Jin (9:08 PM): Or does that come with the sneaking away? Should I pick up some listerine for the office? Any preference on condom brands or flavors? You: {Left on Read}

📈📈📈📈📈

Sitting at your desk, your eyes drag to the bottom corner of the computer screen to the email alert. Clicking it open, you see a message from Seokjin with weekly reports he’s run for your review. As you begin to open the spreadsheets he’s sent, you notice he’s changed his signoff at the end of the email.

Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa

You hold back a gag, unable to believe the audacity he has, before it turns into a giggle. He really has no shame, you think, deciding two can play this game. Hitting reply, you send him a thank you, making sure to sign off in like.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretch before diving into the work he sent.

Time seems to fly by, with the sun filtering into your office slowly moving across the carpet. You don’t notice, so engrossed in your work as you are, that Seokjin is leaning in your doorway, eyes watching you with a soft smile.

“Ready to go, baby girl?”

Seokjin’s voice startles you, breaking your concentration. Your boss has changed out of his business suit slacks, a crisp pair of blue jeans tailored to fit his body now gracing his frame as his button down disappears into the waistband. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, revealing his expensive watch and veins as he flexes involuntarily.

“Seokjin!” you gasp out, clutching a hand to your chest above your now racing heart.

“Now, is that any way to address your boyfriend who is about to take you out on a date?”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Fake boyfriend, you mean,” you correct, gathering your purse onto your shoulder as you lock your computer before looking down to arrange the printed reports neatly.

“Real enough for the next two weeks, baby girl,” he counters, voice significantly closer.

You feel the warmth of his body pressing into your backside as he envelops you in a hug, his face nuzzling into your neck as if seeking comfort. Freezing, your body betrays you as a burst of butterflies flit around your tummy and your neck cranes as if to accommodate his face, waiting for him to plant a kiss on your sweet spot.

Instead he steps back, and it takes you a few seconds to regain your composure.

“I’m gonna regret signing my email as that, aren’t I?” you question, following him out of your office.

“Hmm, it's possible, but more likely, you’ll prefer it to Kicks and ask me not to stop calling you that.”

“Doubt it,” you mumble, though your conscious thought is looking at you skeptically. It’s been one day, and your body is already taking this fake relationship as reality.

“We’ll see,” is his only response, though after the two of you step into the elevator, he reaches for your hand.

“You’re quite the touchy-feely boyfriend, Jinnie-Oppa,” you tease.

“Because I know it’s what you like. I know you’ve identified set things you’d like to do to test the relationship, but I’m more of a go with the flow guy, y’know? And I have a reputation to protect. Fake or not, I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Again, the traitorous butterflies appear, and they remain long after he’s dropped your hand to walk across the lobby to the parking garage entrance, looking mischievously around the lot as he opens the passenger side door to let you into his car.

Date number one surprises you, as you’re expecting Seokjin to resort to either typical chaebol actions, like a fancy reservation at an upscale restaurant, or be lazy with his choice, and take you to something owned by his family. Seokjin did neither, instead he surprises you with a fun outing. He swings by your place, telling you to change into something casual and you’re glad you did. Zzang Games, located in Hongdae, is a multi-floor entertainment center, perfect for competing or pairing up for various arcade and VR games.

For a Monday evening it's not too busy, mostly tourists and students on the claw machines and engaged in battle royales, and you think it’s pretty smart of Seokjin to choose this. Your coworkers most likely would not be out at a place like this on a weekday, so you’re less likely to get caught, and as a date, it’s definitely the type of relaxed setting that would allow two people to learn more about each other. If that was something the two of you were interested in, which it’s not. Right?

Later that night in bed, you fall asleep thinking about how much fun you had with Seokjin and that maybe he’s right about workplace romances, but if he is, then you can kiss those Jimmy Choo shoes goodbye...

Seokjin wasn’t lying to you when he said he would be the best boyfriend you’ve ever experienced in the two weeks assigned to dating, and it’s only been three days. Yesterday, you received a delivery of flowers discreetly signed from Your Lover. Several of the women that share your floor asked about the blooming perennials, curious to know who they came from. You just said it was a new thing, much like the vase full of buds that was blossoming; not yet a relationship, but still something nonetheless.

Today, just before you head to the Tuesday weekly meeting, Seokjin comes into your office to deliver you a cold French vanilla latte with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle across the fluffy topping.

“Well isn’t this sweet,” you say with a thank you, instantly mouthing at the whipped cream. You watch as Seokjin’s eyes follow your lips as you try and get the excess cream off the sides of your mouth. Turning away from you, he moves to leave. You follow, ready for the meeting, when Seokjin stops abruptly, turning on his heel in the doorway.

“What—”

His plush lips land on yours, a hand moving to the back of your hair to hold you in place as he gently bites your bottom lip before pulling away from the unexpected kiss.

“You missed a spot, Kicks, didn’t want anyone else coming to your rescue in the meeting.”

He steps away, resuming his path to the conference room as you blink feverishly at his departing silhouette. It takes you a few seconds to gather your wits and hustle after him, heels click-clacking on the tile as you hurry to catch up.

📈📈📈📈📈

Meetings lately suck.

Ever since you, or, the finance department, has been put on the hot seat, it feels like everyone is looking to you to fix things that aren’t your area of concern. It doesn’t help that you and Seokjin have made this stupid bet to see who is right about workplace romances. All so you can have those coveted Jimmy Choos.

“Thank you Taehyung, I’m sure the board will be able to vote on your proposal after reviewing the presentation.” The CEO’s voice snaps you back from where you’re daydreaming, face still warm and mouth tingling from your fake lover’s amorous encounter earlier. Absent-mindedly you run a finger across your bottom lip, not really listening to a word any of your coworkers have to say.

“Next up will be an update on the finances—we’ll take a quick five minute break before we resume.”

You jump when you feel a hand on your thigh, a soft pressure as Seokjin turns your chair gently towards himself.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to present this time,” he says lowly into your ear. You feel the breath of his words caress your neck, a shiver rolling down your spine at how close he is. His hand then moves to your back, and to anyone in the room watching, it would look like two work partners preparing for their presentation.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Maybe because you look a little…flustered. Don’t worry baby girl, this presentation’s on me.” Seokjin grasps your hand under the conference room table, and you don’t really hear anything else he says as he brings his other hand to the tablet in front of you, clicking a few things so he can connect to the projector now that Taehyung has packed away his materials. “That was much longer than five seconds, I think I’m killing it.”

“Huh?” you question, confused.

He releases your fingers from where they were intertwined with his own, raising his hand to wiggle his five left fingers in your face with a smug look.

“Just sit here and look pretty, darling,” he jokes, but his eyes look serious when he swoops his hand over your ear, tucking away a wayward strand before standing to present, “and can you click through the slides for me?” he says this part louder, drawing everyone’s attention to you.

You can only nod, bashful and confused, and curse Kim Seokjin for being so goddamn charming, and so damn good at this game.

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Date number two the following day is your idea—a nice tandem bike ride along the Han River before sunset. The temperature is chilly, but you make sure to warn Seokjin in advance so he meets you wearing a warm fluffy white jacket, a matching beanie, and gloves. He’s thankful you let him know to dress warmly.

Seoul winters have 5 AM sunrises and near 8 PM sunsets, so the view along the river is gorgeous, a clear Wednesday with barely a cloud in the sky. Seokjin can’t believe he actually works up a sweat during the leisurely ride, but with the sun still out and no clouds to offer any shade, when the two of you finish your trip, he strips off his jacket for a breather.

He notices the way you eye his arms as they flex to grab his wallet from his back pocket so he can pay for your hot cocoa. It makes him feel good about himself, and his chances with you once this competition is over. What better way to make you fall for him and realize dating him is feasible, than by a trial run—as he likes to call it.

Seokjin is aware that you play by the rules, not just in work, where it’s expected, but in your day to day too, in relationships with coworkers and how you move through life. The only time he’s witnessed you behave in a way that goes against this is when you splurge to buy heels online. He feels like it was pure luck that he was able to finesse his trial run relationship with you, but he knows it is the data that you need to prove it’s worth the risk—he’s worth the risk.

When you shiver from the breeze coming off of the river, he wastes no time layering his fluffy jacket over your thin, long-sleeve athletic shirt, loving the way the jacket dwarfs you despite your heeled boots—yes, even when riding bikes, you make sure to have that slight lift that makes your ass sit ever so nicely in your jeans.

He enjoys the way you snuggle yourself deeper into his jacket, subtly inhaling the scent of his cologne and it’s just another confirmation to himself that maybe you could really turn this into something real with him, that maybe you like him back. He played it safe with the first date, and your choice for today is cute, but he doesn’t have much time to prove to you that he’s serious. He knows that the next date is the time for him to turn up the heat.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

The atmosphere in the restaurant for date three is so far removed from the arcade of date one, you don’t really know how to behave. You use the term restaurant loosely, seeing as you are currently floating along the Han River. A candlelight dinner on a ferry at sunset was not what you expected from Seokjin. Looking around the room, you can’t help but notice how many of the tables are empty in comparison to what your friends have told you about this experience, but you’re sure Seokjin pulled some strings. There’s maybe seven other couples in the room. He confirms as much as he pulls your attention back to him.

“I bought out as many of the tables as I could to ensure your utmost devotion during our date, and still you can’t keep your eyes on me,” he jokes, bringing his wine glass to his lips, “but some people had already purchased tables and I couldn’t get them to refund it.” Your eyes follow the burgundy liquid as it slips between his lips, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows it down. You tug at the form-fitting maroon dress you have on, one that Seokjin presented to you before leaving work to make the reservation.

“I was just wondering why it was so empty, but now that I know, I promise to focus on you.” You hate how much you don’t hate how the words sound; Seokjin is a sight to behold as the sun begins its descent below the horizon, and you find that you don’t want to look away from him. It’s a bit confusing for you because there’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t want to like this. He’s your boss, for one, and two, your competitive side is thinking about the fact that you want those shoes. Plus, you also like to be right. Though if you’re being honest with yourself—

“All women do is lie,” Seokjin says, paired with a firm settling down of the glass goblet onto the tablecloth. “Promising to focus on me, and then daydreaming seconds after—unless you were daydreaming about me?”

“Yes, daydreaming about strangling you for being so insufferable.”

“Didn’t know you were also into asphyxiation, but I will add that to the list alongside ‘likes to be touched’.”

You want to wipe the smirk off of his face. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is Kim Seokjin, and no matter how he seems to fool you for a moment, give it a few minutes and he will say something to reign it back in.

“So, I know we’re going to run this relationship for two weeks, and I thought about the perfect way to figure out if we pass or fail.”

You nod as you take a bite of the filet mignon on the plate before you. “Oh, do tell,” you implore, chewing delicately so as to not appear impolite.

“Be my date to Namjoon’s Christmas party.” Seokjin’s nonchalant tone throws you for a loop and you miss the connection between the two things.

“Be your—excuse me,” you cough, clearing your throat from when you inhaled unceremoniously. “You want me to be your date to the CEO’s Christmas party?”

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense. When we arrive, everyone will either act surprised seeing us as a couple, or think that I invited you as my friendly, plus-one coworker. Either way, we can use that as the true test to see if we passed or failed.” Seokjin grins proudly, waiting for you to applaud his brilliance.

“Hmm, it does seem like a good idea.” You look back at your food, hiding the fact that you were confused earlier. “I’m assuming the people invited will be people who attend meetings with us or work with us regularly?”

“Obviously, I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll be your date.”

“Great. I’ll forward you the e-vite later tonight so you can prepare yourself for it, I know how you are.”

You smile softly at him; despite his teasing tone, you know that the act of sending you the details is one that shows he knows you and cares to some degree about your comfortability. He’s seen you freak out a few times over lack of information before meetings or events that you’ve had to attend for the company. You wonder what other things he’s filed away about you to make sure that you’re taken care of, so to speak. Maybe this is also who Kim Seokjin is. His duality is throwing you for a loop.

Before you can think of a way to safely broach that topic, the live band playing shifts to a song you recognize, but without lyrics, you can’t name it just yet.

“I love this song!” Seokjin surprises you when he comments, proffering a hand to you. “Do you want to dance?”

In the fading sunlight, his eyes sparkle with a joyful playfulness that you can’t say no to. Taking his hand, you allow him to pull you towards an opening, thanks to the lack of patrons on board, and gathering you into his arms, the two of you sway to the beat.

You are acutely aware that his hands are placed right at the small of your back, pinkies bordering the curve of your ass as you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“Relax a little, can you look like you actually enjoy dancing with me?”

“Sorry, I—”

“Shhh, just dance with me—you look beautiful by the way.” He smiles down at you, and you comply, wrapping your hands to rest casually around his neck to loosen your stiff posture as you try to hide the heat rising to your face.

As the music plays, you hear Seokjin humming gently along to it before he begins to sing lightly. “Say my name and everything just stops, I don’t want you like a best friend…Only bought this dress so you can take it off, take it off, ah ah ah~.”

Hearing the lyrics jogs your memory of the song, and you remember how much of a fan Seokjin is of Taylor Swift. Until the words catch up to your brain and you look up at him scandalized.

“Only bought me this dress so you can take it off?” you ask, trying to step away from him, but his hold on you is firm.

“Kicks, everything that I buy you from here on out, I would love to remove from your body, except for the heels.” He doesn’t look at you, playfully swirling you around in a circle with a smile, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that you can’t shake. You bite your lip, unable to stop the racing thoughts as he takes one of your hands from where you’ve moved them to his chest, spinning you in a circle on the dance floor as the band continues to play.

He pulls you close again, this time with your back to his front and keeps hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Are you having fun yet?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I’m dancing with you, aren’t I?” you deflect, and he chuckles knowingly.

Seokjin resumes his gentle singing, swaying with you as other guests begin to dance and waiters clear the finished entrees so they could prepare for dessert. As the song finally ends, you walk back to your seat, sitting gingerly to combat the pooling between your thighs from the friction dancing must have caused. Rubbing up against someone is just a part of dancing. What else could explain the slight bulge you felt nestled between your cheeks as you swayed in Seokjin’s arms?

The small crystal bowls of strawberry gelato are a nice distraction to cool down the heat you feel around your throat and cheeks, but watching the way that Seokjin’s lips wrap around the metal spoon to gently suck at the ice cream, smoothing down the scoop of pink dessert sitting on it, well, it doesn’t help as much as one would hope.

When you’ve both finished and the boat begins to dock back into the wharf, Seokjin comes to your side, offering you a hand to help you stand. You grasp it, but as you stand, the ferry lurches on the water, and you stumble into his chest. The motion causes him to fall backwards taking you with him as he attempts to protect you on the fall.

As the boat settles, you look up, seeing that you’ve landed side-saddle style on Seokjin’s lap, his legs bent to the side opposite of where yours are. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders still, your faces much closer than you’ve ever found them to be.

“Are you okay?” he asks, arms tightening from where they’re wrapped around your waist.

“Mmhmm,” you nod, the act bringing your lips closer to his with every upward movement.

“You sure, Kicks?” he breathes out even quieter, face inching ever so closer.

“Never better,” you answer, a rush of air caressing his lips, so close you feel the blowback of it, and an urge like never before comes over you to just lean in and taste the strawberry off his lips.

And just as his lips begin to touch yours, a flurry of activity from the ship's stewards pulls you apart as they check on your wellbeing. They help you climb off of Seokjin’s lap, apologizing profusely for the boat’s severe rocking and offering coupons on drinks and food and a free trip to save from receiving a bad review. You let Seokjin negotiate with the workers, focusing solely on your breathing. You do this as you leave, as Seokjin drives you home, and as you stand in the steaming shower attempting to scrub yourself of his touch, of the feelings they elicit from you, and what it might mean.

But there’s nothing that you can do to stop the images that infiltrate your thoughts as you dream of a satin dress falling to the floor, strawberry lips that cover every inch of your skin, and your high-heel-clad feet resting on his shoulders.

Work the next day is weird to say the least, as you expected to be bombarded with Seokjin smirking and strutting around the office, but when you arrive, he’s nowhere to be seen. In order to keep your mind free of all of the newly budding feelings, you throw yourself into your work, following up on the financial reports for the week so far to track the flow of money within the company and see if the different measures you’ve put into place have made a difference in the end-of-fiscal-year outcome and if the company is in the black once more.

The day seems to go by fast, with Seokjin never appearing in the finance department at all, and no encounters with him when you left to grab food with NaBi, Khaity, Khaity’s best friend Leah, and Hana. You expected to see him round the corner and enter your office at least once you were back from lunch, but he doesn’t appear, and instead of feeling relief at avoiding what you feel will be an awkward encounter, you feel nervous and worried about where he’s at.

After spinning aimlessly in your desk chair, having read the same line in the report seven times, you reach for your phone, finger hovering over his name. Would an email be more appropriate? It was working hours and you’ve never really called him outside of work like this before. You decide to call anyway, brain already coming up with a way to write it off as part of the challenge much like he did the whip cream kiss, when he answers.

“Hello?” he answers, a little breathless, and you pause, confused at the sounds you hear in the background. “Kicks?”

You’re about to answer when you hear a feminine voice from the background, asking who Kicks is.

“Give me a moment,” you hear him say, followed by the background sounds fading a bit as he steps away from wherever he’s located. He says your name, but you’re still stuck on what you’ve heard. “Baby girl?” he tries, and it works, breaking you from your green-eyed stupor.

“I’m here,” you respond, voice lowered as you try and navigate the feeling in your chest.

“Is something wrong? You’re worrying me.”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just haven’t seen you at work today—”

“Oh, I had a dentist appointment this morning, but Namjoon sent me to meet with some fiduciary specialists and can you believe they don’t have elevators in their building? I had to walk four flights of stairs and I was so worried something was wrong and I was going to have to run back down those four flights to get to you—”

Your peals of laughter halt his rambling, and he stays quiet as you taper off into light giggles.

“No, everything is fine, sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

“No, I forgot to put it into the calendar so you would know, I’m sorry if I worried you. This woman who looks old enough to be my grandma is glaring at me though, so let me finish this meeting and then I’ll fill you in on what I learned tomorrow.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m coming now—okay, babe, be good, bye!”

The phone clicks off and you set it down, utterly confused at the ease with which he called you a pet name; it wasn’t done teasingly, but more like a slip, as if he always referred to you as such and was comfortable with doing so. But even more pressing is the way you feel, no longer anxious at Seojin’s unknown whereabouts, no longer jealous of him being around another woman sounding suspiciously out of breath, and tummy all aflutter at him calling you babe.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Friday, fighting!” NaBi calls out as you both head towards the entrance; her weekly Friday morning greeting makes you wave at her.

“I hope you have a great day, NaBi!” you say as you both make your way towards the elevator. You expect to see NaBi press the button to Namjoon’s floor, since she is essentially his personal assistant and secretary, but instead she chooses to go to a different floor, IT.

“Same to you, I’m sure it will be a great Friday. Any more horrid meetings?” she asks, privy to the situation thanks to her role within the company.

“No, thank god. We’re back to our weekly Tuesday meetings, and luckily, since they know Jin and I are working on the finances, they’ve left me alone for most of them.”

“That’s good, I hope Jin isn’t working you to the bone,” NaBi quips, and you have to stop yourself from sharing your latest thoughts and feelings.

“No, no, everything is good there, he’s actually been really attentive and helpful with trying to fix all of the wanton spending, so hopefully there’s no more vile meetings with the crusty old board members.”

As the doors slide open to the IT department, NaBi steps out, a large smile on her face as she looks towards a specific open door.

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” you ask pointedly, nodding towards a certain muscle bunny’s office before the elevator has a chance to close.

“When you wear sneakers to work!” she laughs out, waving you off.

“Never!”

📈📈📈📈📈

The weekend seems to go by quickly because you’re still working remotely on financial reports in your pajamas, so despite the turmoil you feel about everything, it gets set to the back burner. You remember late on Sunday that it’s once again your turn to plan the date for the following day, and so while you may not wear sneakers ever to the office or even tandem bike riding in winter, you will rock the heck out of the blue, red and tan bowling shoes when your competitive side strikes. And after such a romantic, sexually charged date, you want to try and put some space between you and Seokjin once again.

Your pep talk to yourself on the way to work Monday morning consists of you reminding yourself that this isn’t real.

“Seokjin’s unserious, you know he’s not capable of real emotions.” Your face looks back at you from the reflection in the window on the bus. “The date meant nothing. He’s just playing with you because he can. He wants you to let your guard down and forget the true game is afoot.” The man behind you on the bus looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind talking to yourself and you pretend you’re talking to someone on the phone. “You are in this to prove to Seokjin that dating at work is risky because people always find out, and thus win a pair of heels. Nothing more.”

But if what you told yourself this morning is the case, why do you want to sit and watch Seokjin run his fingers through his hair as he combs it out of his face? Why do you want to stare into his coffee-colored eyes as he talks to you about different techniques for bowling? You could care less about bowling skills, but watching the words come from between his pink pillow lips makes it mesmerizing.

“Do you want bumpers?” he asks as he finishes lacing his shoes.

You shoot him a glare before answering, “No, I do not need bumpers, I’m decent at bowling, thank you very much.”

You aren’t lying either, you have pretty good hand eye coordination, but it has been several years since you’ve last gone bowling. You can typically score in the range of seventies to the hundreds, not a gutterball queen like he assumes. You hope to dazzle him with your abilities.

“Okay, I think I’m going to use the 12-pound ball, what size do you need? A 7 or 8-pound?”

“An 8-pound please! I sometimes use a 7 or a 9-pound when I need speed or to slow down for precision, but I’ll start with the 8 for now.” You stand and stretch, missing Seokjin’s eyes rove your figure.

“Got it boss, I’ll deliver you an 8-pounder.” Jin chuckles to himself as he grabs the two large spheres from the rack.

“Why does it sound like you’re planning to give me a newborn?”

“My mother and father would be happy to have a grandchild, now that I think about it,” Seokjin winks as he places the bowling balls into the ball return.

“Kim Seokjin, sometimes I really just want to bang yo—”

“Me against the wall outside in the alleyway? I won’t lie, that would be a good way to get my parents started on a grandchild.”

“Ugh! Please just bowl, it’s your turn.” You sit down and cross your arms, irritated with his quips. He’s the most unserious person you have ever met, and yet he still manages to push the boundaries of unserious levels daily.

Despite this, you are enjoying yourself as date four progresses, with game one ending with you beating Seokjin, and game two causing a tie to declare who is the best at bowling. Game three starts off the same, but halfway through, now pleasantly pliant with several soju shots, you both are giggling a lot more, being playful with trick shots.

“Okay, okay, that was surprisingly accurate,” you laugh as Seokjin rights himself from where he had bent over to throw the bowling ball between his legs. You step up with your bowling ball, poised to be dramatic like you’ve seen people do on TV.

“Always the look of surprise from you, I am actually quite talented at many things, especially when it comes to using my hands.” His eyebrows wiggle suggestively, but with his face flushed red from being upside down and from alcohol, it is more comical than sexy.

The burst of laughter that follows throws you off balance. One second, you are gearing up to do a ‘professional’ throw, left hand bracing the ball you have held in your right, three fingers balancing the weight, but when your hand swings back, he says his lewd saying and instead of releasing the ball when your arm pendulums forward, you keep hold of it. The weight of the ball still attached to your fingers propels you forward and you lose your footing on the overly slick flooring of the lane.

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the curse escaping your mouth as you try your best to maintain your footing, but your ankle rolls as your body topples onto the resin-coated wood floor. You cry out from the twinge it causes, a shooting pain traveling along the side of your leg.

Seokjin laughs, loud squeaks that resemble windshield wipers that have seen better days, and while you are nearly in tears from the stinging ache, you start to laugh too as you hold your ankle slightly above the ground.

“Jin, stop laughing, it hurts!” you giggle through the tears, and the bouncing from the laughter jostles your ankle and you let out a whimper. He’s next to you instantly, still chuckling as he tries to soothe you.

“I’m sorry, but that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” he wipes away a tear and then touches your leg gingerly. “Does it hurt here?”

You nod. “Yes, it’s similar to shin splints, but on the side.”

“Can you stand?” Seokjin offers his hands to you and you pull yourself up onto one leg, too afraid to put any weight on the hurt ankle. Your bowling ball lay forgotten as you hobble to the nearest seat. “I meant like can you put weight on it, but it appears you can’t…We only had three frames left anyways, let’s call it a night for bowling.” He looks at you with sympathy. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

“No, I promise, it’ll be fine, just some ice and I’ll prop it up on a few pillows.”

Seokjin puts away the bowling balls and cleans up a little while you slowly loosen the laces. You transition one boot back on, and he comes back over to you in time to help gently remove the other bowling shoe off your foot.

“Let me return our shoes and then I’ll help you to the car.”

You stretch as far as you can reach to gather your purse and test the mobility of your ankle, hoping to avoid being carried bridal style out. It still hurts and looks a little swollen, but you’ve done this a few times as an adolescent so you already know how to treat it. Seokjin squats down in front of you, giving you his back so that you can climb on and he can koala-carry you out of the building.

Hesitantly you wrap your arms around his neck, realizing that this position is much worse than if he had chosen the bridal style. Now you know exactly how well he fits between your thighs, how firmly his hands wrap under your thighs. There’s no way to distance yourself from him as you physically have to rely on him to transport you to the car, your breasts pressing into his back.

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t make any jokes as he carts you out, just asks after your pain and comfort levels. Once he’s parked outside of your building, he helps you to your door. You draw the line there though, not letting him come in.

“We have work tomorrow, I’m just going to take some painkillers, take a quick shower, grab some ice and pillows, then sleep. Promise, I won’t do anything strenuous.”

“Fine. On one condition though. I’m picking you up to take you to work the rest of the week until it heals.” Seokjin looks at you with eyes that showcase his finality, and you agree so you can escape him.

“I’ll meet you downstairs at 7:30 sharp,” you acquiesce, “and Seokjin…thank you.”

“Anything for you, I told you, as your boyfriend these two weeks, I’ll be the best boyfriend—as long as you let me.”

Before you can protest, he leans down and kisses your forehead gently, and he disappears from sight before you’ve moved to shut the door.

Seokjin’s POV

Watching as you walk gingerly into the Tuesday morning meeting, Seokjin shakes his head at you remembering your refusal this morning to change into flats or sneakers, so Seokjin only agrees to allow you to continue to work if you sport an ankle wrap under your heeled boot. He stops at Daiso before parking, but because of the time, he lets you out with a promise to put it on once you get to your office.

“Why are you limping so badly? The bandage should be giving you more support than that, is it on correctly?” Seokjin asks as you walk to your seat next to him. He stands to pull out the wheely chair for you, one hand on your back to guide you into the seat and the other holding your hand as you lower yourself to get comfortable.

“I haven’t put it on yet,” you reply, avoiding eye contact. He returns to his chair sending you a searing stare full of judgment.

“Kicks, the longer it takes your ankle to heal, the longer I can’t enjoy seeing you in heels. You know I love how you look in heels.” His hand grazes along the top of your thigh, but you clamp a hand on top of his to stop the movement.

“I knew you had an ulterior motive!”

He chuckles, but it fades away as you seem to take advantage of the situation and thread your fingers through his. He fully expects that after ten seconds you’ll pull away and go back to taking notes on what the CEO says as he talks to the group. Except that you don’t, instead settling into the meeting, holding hands with Seokjin for far longer than necessary, not that he’s complaining.

Once the meeting adjourns, you disappear back to your office faster than Seokjin thought possible with an injured ankle, but he takes advantage of the time to shoot an email to Namjoon and Yoongi before going to gather some items. It’s not long before he appears in your doorway.

“Come with me, and bring your wrap,” he demands, though his tone is not harsh. He can’t be mad at you, not when you’ve provided him with the perfect opportunity.

With a sigh, you hobble over to the door and follow as he leads you around a few corners until you’re alone in one of the many break rooms in the building. This one in particular is similar to the library where the holiday party was held, but smaller, with a conference table in the middle of the sun-filled room.

Seokjin leads you to the table, and preemptively picks you up by your underarms to place you on the table before you can resist. He makes sure to be gentle as he lifts your leg to the table, undoing your boot so he can check your ankle out. You’re wearing loose slacks today, which makes it easier for him to access your sprain. Delicately, he smoothes the pant leg up your leg, his hand warming as it skates across your skin.

He swears he hears an intake of breath from the touch, a reflection of the sparks he’s feeling, but instead of calling attention to it, afraid of scaring you off, he reaches behind you, retrieving the bag of ice wrapped in paper towels. Settling onto the tabletop, he puts your foot in his lap.

“This might be a little cool, but we need to treat the swelling.”

The moment feels oddly intimate, and it’s Seokjin’s turn now to duck his head and avoid eye contact. He adjusts the ice pack onto your ankle, one hand cupping your heel as the other keeps the pack in place on top of your foot. Your foot struggles a little at the frosty feeling, and Seokjin has to maintain his breathing as you unknowingly wiggle atop his crotch.

“Sorry,” you mumble, settling your hands behind you on the table as you get comfortable.

“It’s expected,” he returns, and the smile you give him only adds to the hope blossoming in his chest.

The next twenty minutes are spent talking about everything and nothing, and the last ten he spends tickling the bottom of your foot as he helps slide the bandage onto your ankle, all so he can hear your laugh and have your hands on him as you try to get him to leave your foot alone.

“I don’t want to kick you in the face, but if you touch the bottom of my foot again, I can’t say I—Jin!” you squeal, wriggling backwards in an attempt to escape, but he just follows you, his body covering yours as you lean back breathlessly on the table.

“Yes?” His smile is teasing as his arm extends to protect the back of your head as he presses closer to you.

“Please, I can’t take it! I’m too ticklish!”

“But that’s exactly why I can’t stop, Kicks. You’re too cute when you’re flustered, under me like this.”

He sees the exact moment that you notice the precarious position he’s put you in, with Seokjin leaning between your knees, chest to chest as he cradles your head. He didn’t know that he would love the feel of your body under him this much, almost as much as when you were on his lap on the boat. He can smell one of the fragrances you carry, whether it be your shampoo, a perfume, or just a natural scent, he already knows if he can’t make this thing with you real, he’s going to miss it.

“Jin,” he watches you bring your hands to his chest, expecting you to push him away, but to his surprise—and probably your own he suspects—you don’t. He stares at you, drinking in all of the things he’s grown to love about your features over time: the way your eyebrows furrow in thought, lips slightly parted as breaths escape them, and gorgeous eyes wide in wonder as you look back at him.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This close up, he watches as your face changes slightly, lips closing to a shy smile, cheek more prominent and your eyes glittering at the compliment. If you plan to ask him later about the kiss, he’ll tell you it was him if it keeps you from getting scared off, but he sees you move first, clear as day in the reflecting sun. You lift your head out of his hand where it’s cradled, pressing your lips to his and he lets out a tiny groan to rival the throaty moan you release as his tongue seeks entry into your mouth.

He’s both happy and sad at the position he has you in, because while it allows him to be here like this, kissing you, it also doesn’t allow for much more and is becoming quite uncomfortable as he attempts to keep his weight from crushing you. His tongue plays with yours for a few more moments before he tapers off, slowing the progression of the kiss to playful pecks.

Once Seokjin is satisfied that you are giggly and pliant, he clambers off of you, reaching both hands out to help pull you back into a seated position on the table.

“So,” he starts, wanting to test and see how he’s doing in terms of winning you over, “am I the best short-term boyfriend you’ve ever had?” He doesn’t notice the way your eyes dim slightly hearing the phrase ‘short-term’, as he’s busying himself with adjusting the ankle bandage before helping you put back on your boot.

Jin is excited to hear you softly reply, “Yes, Jin, you are.”

If he’s a little more aware, maybe he’d be able to pick up on more than just your words, and realize a lot more about how you’re feeling concerning the situation you both are in.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

It’s killing you to not be able to talk to your work friends about what’s going on. Seeing as you missed out on lunch yesterday due to your shenanigans with Seokjin, the girls ask a few questions.

“I got our favorite shrimp tempura sushi to split with you, but I ended up eating it all myself,” Leah pouts at you as you join them today.

A lie easily rolls off your tongue. “Oh, last minute reports were emailed to me, with the deadline coming up thanks to the holidays, they’re running them daily now to look for any sign up upward movement on the graphs.”

They buy it, easily shutting down any romance rumors they could have generated. You realize that you could have told some of the truth, that Seokjin was babying you because you sprained your ankle, and maybe help you win the shoes that started this insanity. Instead, with that little fib, it appears you’ve worked against your best interest, planting no seeds to make the others think something’s going on romantically between you and Seokjin.

You’ve been so busy with work and secretly dating, you forgot that your girls would be the best chance you have to prove that you are right and Seokjin is wrong.

Seriously, I could have told most of the truth, and that would have been enough to have the girls ask why Seokjin was taking care of me. I would deny anything they accused, because I can’t break my own rules, but planting that seed would allow them to at least wonder. They might then, as women do, embark on a hunt for the truth. Then when it came time at the party to ask if anyone had found out, they would be the ones to stand up and say yes! But I’m a little too good at this, you say, forehead wrinkled in disdain at yourself, exactly what Seokjin must be banking on to win this thing.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles and then you’ll be single forever!” Hana jokes, and you laugh listlessly.

Maybe it’s time you call someone you can talk to about everything going on.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Grandma, you don’t understand, he’s unserious on his best days, insufferable on his worst, and…” you pause, adjusting your leg where you have it propped up on a small chair you stole from an empty office. You plan to leave in a few minutes so you can go home and get ready for your date with Seokjin, but wanted to rest your ankle briefly before walking to the bus stop. It doesn’t hurt as much now, but you want to make sure it heals up well to avoid any weakening later.

She hums knowingly in your ear. “Let me guess, he’s handsome, rich, and doesn’t appreciate his status in life.”

“Yes! Exactly, he lives with an all play and no work attitude—”

“And you want him to be your boyfriend,” she tacks on, effectively shutting you down.

“Grandma!”

“What? You called me for some real talk, right?”

You whine, and she laughs, her musical giggle making you miss her.

“Sweetie, listen. I’ve known you your whole life, so I know you pretty well. You like things that are orderly and neat, that fit well into your life. But that’s not much of a fun life. And it’s not what we hoped for you when we sent you off to Seoul.” You hear her sigh, and remain quiet, knowing she’s about to impart something that will stay with you. “It sounds like this Jin guy is exactly the kind of man you need in your life. He’s realized one of the best things about life that most of us don’t realize until it’s too late: Life is not so serious that we need to live a life with regrets. Yes, he has moments where maybe he should behave with a little more…sincerity, but overall, it sounds like you do that enough between the two of you.”

You nod, biting your lip as you take in her words. “Maybe.”

“You’ve been working so hard on your schooling and then your career, and you’ve made it so far! Overcome every academic and career goal thrown at you. But that’s only part of who you are. I think it’s nice that this young man is so attuned to you, that he’s challenging you in areas like love and life.”

“Who said anything about love? We’ve only been seeing each other for a week and a half!”

“No one said you were in love, sweetie, but your defensiveness means you like him a little more than you thought.”

You tuck your phone between your ear and your shoulder, logging into your desktop so you can check some emails while you chat. Multi-tasking always helps you when you need to open up—focusing on a menial task helps cover that feeling in your chest when you discuss said feelings.

“I mean, if I’m honest with myself, yes. He’s surprised me in ways I wasn’t expecting. And I know that two people can kiss when dating, but, I don’t know…is he kissing me because he’s taking advantage of whatever this is, or is he kissing me because he likes me and wants it to be more? I’m confused about what happens next, you know?”

“My smart girl, have you thought about asking him?”

“I can’t just ask him! He’s my boss!” You wish she understood that times are not the same as when she was young.

“Yes, your boss who you are already dating!”

“But not for real! Not after Saturday!”

“What’s happening Saturday?” she questions, and you stall, not wanting to hear what she’s going to say when you tell her the full truth.

“Well, we’ve been going on dates because…we made a bet. To see if workplace romances can be kept secret or not. It started last week and we have set rules so neither of us cheats, and this Saturday is the CEO’s holiday party, which Jin invited me to as his date, and we will see if any of our work friends noticed we were dating or not.”

She laughs heartily, and you hate that she seems so wise about this when you feel so clueless.

“Oh, I needed that laugh. You’re telling me that your boss—a hot, rich executive—made a bet with you to see if workplace romances can work, he’s kissed you a few times and takes you out on dates, drives you to work now that you’ve sprained your ankle, asked you to be his date to another exec’s party, and you’re still confused about where the two of you stand?”

Hearing her put it into this perspective bolsters your confidence a bit. It isn’t like you haven’t already thought about this same formula, but your grandma is missing one term from this equation, and it's your feelings. Your feelings are clouding your ability to act on this information. You tell her just as much.

“I’m just scared. I think that the risk of rejection is overpowering everything for me right now.”

“I know that risk is scary, you think I wasn’t scared when you moved away to attend school? But the reward? Seeing you excel in your career has been so lovely to witness. I’m so proud of you. I just want you to have someone to take care of you when I’m not here anymore.”

You want to fight her on this, but you don’t want to discount her emotions. “I know, and while I’d be fine having you take care of me forever, I think it would only be fair to let you pass the heavy lifting onto someone else.”

“And by the sounds of it, Jin has a nice set of shoulders for that.”

You’re about to answer her when a knock at your door startles you.

“Hold on, Grandma,” you say before raising your voice. “Come in!”

The topic of conversation steps into your office, shutting the door behind him. “Hey, I’m so sorry to do this, but we have to push our date tonight to tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” you question, taking in the way his face is pinched, grumpy.

“Yeah, I mean, no one’s dying or anything, but my dad just sent me an email, summoning me to meet with him about a potential investor.”

“Wouldn’t this typically be Soobin’s job?” you point out. Choi Soobin, the investor relations director for JinHit, typically would meet to discuss potential investors first before looping Seokjin in as CEO.

“Yes, but you know my father…”

“I’m sorry, bab—um, b-but, it’s okay, we can move it to Thursday.” You stumble over the words, trying to cover up the slip of tongue.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m so sorry to do this.”

“No, I get it. You want to prove to your father you got this, and rightfully so. You’ve done amazing helping me with everything, even though you have so much on your plate already.”

“You know good and well that you, Soobin, and the others take on a lot of the responsibilities, I just oversee it. It’s been nice to actually get my hands dirty with work, use my degree.” Seokjin’s phone chimes. After a roll of his eyes, he apologizes again. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” With that last remark and a wink, he leaves your office. You can hear laughter coming from your phone, forgotten in your hand. Bringing your grandma back to your ear, you speak before she can.

“Don’t even start, Grandma. I already know what you’re going to say.” You click on the email invite that Seokjin sent you about the holiday party at Namjoon’s, eyes re-reading the info. “So just help me think of a good present to get him for the party Saturday.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Seokjin can’t help but to grin as he walks back to his office. You almost slipped up and called him babe. Or baby. Either way, he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and tomorrow will be the perfect moment to tell you just how he feels. He hates that he showed up less than a half hour before you get off to cancel, but he would rather give you the respect of doing it in person than over text.

He scans the subject of the email he received while in your office, seeing it’s a reply to the email he sent yesterday, from Namjoon. Hustling back to his CFO office, he logs in and clicks through the various apps until the email pops up.

Seokjin, Thank you for keeping me up to date with the financial reports, the numbers seem to be trending back up thanks to the mitigating efforts you and your department have done. Make sure to tell your better half thank you, since I know it was really all her. Also, your signature is a little…informal for work…I would love to know who is on the receiving end of the “Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa” so I can congratulate her for tying you down. I would say bring her to the party, but I know you are already planning to bring YN, and it would be rude to swap them out last minute. Kim Namjoon, MA, BSBA CEO of JinHit Conglomerate

“Ah fuck.” Jin smacks his head, realizing his mistake. This is exactly the kind of fuck up you said couples dating at work would make, but luckily, his best friend is clueless to the fact that the same person Seokjin plans to bring to the party is the same person who will hopefully end up taking him off the market. Will this lead Seokjin to lose on Saturday? He doesn’t care about losing the bet and having to buy the shoes—he can afford to buy you the same shoes every day for the rest of your life.

No, what Seokjin is most worried about is that if he loses on Saturday, it will be the data that you need, the proof that will make you decide that you can’t be with Seokjin after this is all said and done. And he can’t have that.

He begins typing out a reply, mostly to say that he agrees with Namjoon, that his email was informal and he was sorry for not paying attention, oh and of course he would make sure to introduce Namjoon to the woman one day, hopefully soon, and that yes, it would be quite rude to swap out dates last minute.

It’s an hour later after he’s finished typing out this reply that he leaves work to cross town to meet with his father. Seokjin’s feeling a little sour about the fact that he had to cancel his plans with you and meet with his dad, especially since it’s not his job to do this part of the investment process, but thanks to Do Not Disturb while driving, he misses the message his father sends.

Jin (5:15 PM): I’m leaving work now, I should be there in time for the meeting at 6:30. 아버지 (Father) (5:45 PM): The investors can’t make it today, which is lucky since you aren’t taking rush hour traffic into account. I will let you know when it has been rescheduled, and I will make sure you will be on time. Jin (6:28 PM): [Request Pay from Kim Namjung ₩25,000 for gas]

Reader POV

By Thursday, your ankle is finally feeling back to normal but you don’t want to push it too much, so you put on your lowest heels. You figure this would be perfect with your cinch-waisted dress, held shut by the buttons running down the middle. Despite the chill as you head downstairs to wait for Seokjin, you are glad with your choice thanks to the appreciative look Seokjin gives your figure. His right hand rests along your thigh as he drives you to work, talking about the date he’s planned for the two of you tonight.

“I know it’s a little chilly out, so I figured we could go check out Seoul Sky tonight, and then eat afterwards. What do you think?”

“Wow, how am I supposed to top that? I’ve never been to the observatory, but it sounds amazing.”

“What kind of food do you want to eat? You seem to like most foods, based on what you eat for lunch, but what’s your favorite?”

You ponder his question for a bit, eyes roving around the car as you gather your thoughts. “Mmm…I guess my favorite is home cooking. I miss my grandma’s meals the most since I’ve been here.”

“Ahhh, home cooking always hits the spot. I used to cook a lot when I was younger. My father was always busy with work and my brother and I were left alone a lot. My mom scolded us once for bothering the staff too much for specific meals, so we decided to learn from them how to make the meals we enjoyed. In college, I would cook a lot for the fraternity and it became a hobby of mine. My brother actually is the head of Food Science for JinHit. He handles the cafeteria, catering for entertainment, as well as Nutrition for the idols employed.”

“Really? I’ve met him a few times to discuss finances for catering services and resources for nutrition programs! He’s really cool.”

“Don’t tell me my girlfriend secretly loves my brother and I have to duel him to the death for you.”

You burst into laughter, giggly peals filling the car as Seokjin just glances at you then looks back at the road. “No! He’s just cool and he feeds us, which is super important.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says as he pulls into his designated CFO parking spot, “so the way to your heart is through shoes and food, got it.”

You climb out of the car before he can come around and open the door for you. “And don’t you forget it,” you tease, walking away from him.

Your day goes well to start, with not too many taxing assignments with the weekend fast approaching. Tomorrow is the last day at work before the office is closed for a three day weekend. Christmas falls on Monday, and despite half of the company not celebrating religiously, it is a public holiday and enjoyed as a day off by all. With the work day coming to a close, you hear when the arrival of good news enters everyone’s inbox.

“Did you see?” Soobin sticks his head into your propped open doorway, a large smile covering his face from cheek to cheek.

“Not yet, but it sounds like it’s worth celebrating!”

“It is!” His happiness is contagious. “Our gracious CEO gave us off until the 2nd of January! Since it would be a short work week anyways, he wanted everyone to be able to enjoy the holiday with family, whether they live in Seoul or Busan.”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’m off to find Yeonjun in IT, we might catch the train home together.” Soobin ducks his fluffy head out of the entryway and disappears down the hall with a loud whoop! as others continue their cheering. You smile softly to yourself as you check the email; your last minute idea to have the office closed for the holiday would save the company more than it would lose during this time. The company would be able to save on day-to-day expenditures of running a company, work that typically does not happen because of the distraction of the holiday will continue to not be done, therefore the tradeoff between having the building open for work but no work getting done would balance out, and employee morale will be greater upon returning and resuming work in the new year.

It was an idea you had thanks to your talk with your grandma. When you pointed out that Seokjin was all play no work, and unserious, she had mentioned that you needed some of that in your life. Why wouldn’t the rest of the workers in a large conglomerate also need that? You knew you weren’t the only person with a Type A personality in this building, who worked too hard and barely rewarded themselves with a vacation or fun. So a little forced vacation will do wonders all around, without a loss in sight.

Stretching your arms above your head, you finish the last of your auditing and save your report before locking your computer. You’re excited to experience Seoul Sky tonight, and not just because it is your first time experiencing it, but because who you will be with is worth the trip to such crazy heights.

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Seokjin’s POV

“It’s incredible!” The view you are witnessing truly is, Seokjin can’t lie. It looks as if the city goes on forever, and the fiery rays cascade along the horizon in a beautiful show of combusting fragments of stardust.

“We made it just in time, and we will get to see the night sky too before we eat,” he says. “Let’s step a little closer, you’re missing some of the view.” He ushers you to step onto the glass floor, your low heels clicking weirdly on the thick glass.

“Oh, Seokjin, it’s exhilarating!”

“From here, you can see JinHit, it’s right there,” Seokjin leans into you, holding you tightly as if you might fall from so high up. He aligns your body so you have a better chance of seeing what he’s pointing to.

“I see it! I bet it’s gorgeous at night.”

“Mmm, yes, but maybe we should shut off the power to save money...”

You laugh at his joke, and he feels his heart flutter a little. You’ve changed towards him, and the view offers more than just all of the sights of Seoul—so many opportunities lay at the tip of his finger, still pointing at JinHit—the first one being you.

“Can you imagine how the air must be from up this high?”

He can’t bear to make a negative joke about the air quality in Seoul as he sees the way your irises seemingly reflect the setting sun, a small milky way of glittering solar systems he could get lost in.

“Yes, Kicks, I think it’s rather breathtaking...like you.”

You turn away from the sunset and he sees you catch his gaze trained in your direction, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. The view of Seoul at sunset from almost 1,821 feet disappears around you. You’re the only thing he can see, and he only hopes that you feel the same, or at least you are starting to feel the same about him as he does for you.

📈📈📈📈📈

“When you told me about how you can cook, I didn’t know you meant that you would be cooking for me!” Sitting at the large island in Seokjin’s lofted penthouse apartment, you watch as he moves sveltely between the sink and the island stovetop, pans heated as he adds the ingredients he chopped and minced with you.

“Ah, well I wanted it to be a surprise.” He looks great in his slacks, button-down sleeves rolled up with an apron around his neck and waist so he doesn’t stain the baby blue fabric. It is quite the surprise, and you tell him so.

“Homemade Japchae sounds amazing right now, are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do to help?”

“No, Kicks, you already prepped the vegetables and now it’s just time for you to relax and enjoy. Look around if you want.” Seokjin sets aside the stir fried vegetables as he adds the protein option to the pan, seasoning and cooking it until browned. You decide to give yourself a small tour, not venturing too far or into any closed doors. The penthouse is modern, with a lot of black furniture, grey accent pieces, and white walls. The glass walls are two stories, spanning the height of the lofted area as well, situated above the kitchen. You take a few steps up the stairs until you can see through the clear banister into what appears to be Seokjin’s bedroom, before returning to your seat. You’re much more comfortable there than exploring dangerous areas alone.

The two of you continue to talk about your lives outside of work as he cooks; you share more about your family and where you lived before Seoul, and him about his fraternity days and hobbies. Once the glass noodles were cooked in the Japchae sauce, and the protein and vegetables re-added, you move to sit comfortably on his couch, eating as you watch a popular K Drama on his large flatscreen.

“I really enjoyed tonight, Jin.” You can’t describe in words how you feel, you just know you haven’t felt feelings like this towards Seokjin of this caliber before. Something has changed, but you don’t know whether it’s you or Seokjin, or both. He places his plate into the sink where you stand, washing dishes, then leans against the counter to watch you. “Since you did all of the heavy lifting, I’ll clean up.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. This is still a date.”

“Yes, but even in relationships, people go on dates and I’m sure that they still take turns with household chores and stuff.”

He hums in agreement, then disappears out of the kitchen. You finish washing, lay the dishes on the rack with the pans, and then turn around to make your way back to the living room. You find Seokjin lighting the last of the candles he’s placed around the room, a tray and two flutes of champagne on the low glass table near the dark colored couch.

“What’s all this?” you ask, voice low in astonishment and something else. The room is dim, but the candles provide enough light to see and the ambiance is much more romantic than anything you’ve previously shared with Seokjin.

You watch as Seokjin’s features flit through different emotions before answering you, and before you can question him more about it. “I, well a proper date should be more than just a home-cooked meal. I also have dessert for us, and wanted to celebrate a bit, too.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes,” he pats the couch next to where he’s sat. “I saw the preliminary reports. I think we’re gonna clear it this fiscal year. All thanks to you.”

You cross the rest of the distance to sit next to him, still feeling timid in his home. You take the flute of bubbly gold with a shy smile, still not used to this treatment and praise.

“You worked hard too, Seokjin. We did it together.” Clinking your glasses together, the two of you down the Dom Perignon. As Seokjin sets down his glass, he reaches for one of the chocolate-covered strawberries set atop the tray.

“Try this, these are grown on my uncle's farm,” he shares, scooting closer to you on the couch so he can feed you the strawberry. You lean in, mouth watering at the aroma of the chocolate coating the fruit. With the first bite, an explosion of flavor erupts in your mouth, and you moan a little at how succulent it is. A trickle of the red juice rolls from the corner of your lip. Too busy savoring the flavor, Seokjin slowly swipes up your chin to gather the strawberry juice, bringing it to his lips to suck the flavor off.

You watch as his tongue pushes through the part in his lips, the tip rolling backwards across his bottom lip as he brings his teeth to bite the plump, pink skin. The look in his eyes matches the candle flames and you’re positive yours reflect the same. Placing your hand onto his shoulder, you guide him back onto the couch so he can sit properly as you swing your leg over his thighs. Planted on his lap, it’s nothing to lean in, your mouth seeking him in a slow kiss, wet sounds filling the quiet as you press yourself into him harder, hips grinding down onto the tent pressing into your core.

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses when your mouth moves to his neck, biting gently to avoid leaving marks in visible spots. His hands grasp your ass, pulling you into him with a rocking rhythm with more force. His lips search to bring yours back to his, hands pulling at your dress. Once his hands breach the hem, you feel the warmth of his skin on your thighs, fingertips trailing up to the waistband of your panties.

He pulls back from the kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both try and catch your breath. “Do you want this?” he asks, fingers tugging gently at the lace.

“Yes,” you breathe out, not waiting for more words as you kiss him again, raising your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your thighs. You raise each knee off the couch, helping him until your bare skin meets his slacks. His fingers dip to your center, and you’re pleased at the sound he makes when he feels just how wet you are. You stay up on your knees as he explores, the subtle teasing around your clit only heightening the feeling you crave.

When he presses two fingers into you, you keen, face pressing into his neck as his fingers scissor and glide, thumb pressing into your clit with each plunge. You rock your hips, seeking more friction and he gives in, using his palm as he sinks deeper inside of you, allowing you to take control of your pleasure.

“You feel so tight, but you’re so wet,” he marvels after a particularly hard shudder, and you sit back, knees weak as he pulls his fingers free.

“Want you to feel me properly,” you pout as his tongue licks up the side of his finger before he sucks them both into his mouth. You clench around nothing, the action making you want him more. You finger the buttons on your dress, popping each open in secession. It’s your turn to reach for the waistband of his pants, eyes on his as you seek his consent. “Do you want this?”

“More than you know, baby.” You smile to yourself as you focus on the button and zipper on his slacks until his hands join yours to grip the edge of both his briefs and pants until he has them past his knees, hardened cock bouncy as it awaits you to take your rightful seat upon it. You gasp as your eyes take in the size of it being bigger than you expected; it explains the cockiness he exhibits in his day to day.

Spitting into your hand, you grip his member, thumb trailing down the pearlescent stickiness from the head. He breathes out a huff, the steely silk growing more solid with each stroke.

“Don’t tease me, Kicks, I’ve waited a long time for this.”

Once again you rise onto your knees, inching closer to him with hands on his broad shoulders for balance. You can feel Seokjin lining up the head to your core, running it across your pussy several times to coat it with your essence. Dropping onto his thick length, he fills you to the point of stretching you out, toes curling from the press into your most sensitive parts. You don’t wait, enjoying the way that the stretch burns as it turns to pleasure, and you let loose in a way you haven’t before.

It’s frenetic, the way each of your hands travel along each other's bodies, lips seeking and sucking into each other's skin, opening clothing for more points of contact, to bring you closer to each other than you’ve ever been. It doesn’t take long, riding him as you are, for the coil to build and snap inside you, crying out as you throw your head back.

“That’s it, baby, let me feel you,” Seokjin coaches you through your climax, holding you as you shake in his arms. You mewl as he shifts, thighs lifting you both as he stands, cock still sheathed inside of you. He steps out of his discarded clothing and walks you to the stairs that lead to his loft. He’s impatient, pausing every few steps to press you into the wall and fuck himself up into you until he makes it to the landing of his bedroom.

Getting you to the bed, he places you on your back at the edge, hands trailing up along your legs until he grips your ankles. Bringing them together in front of him, he rests your calves onto his shoulder before slow-grinding himself into you, your swollen lips suctioning him deeper as they mold to fit around him.

“Jin, fuck, you feel so good,” your voice a high pitch as you squirm.

“Yeah, baby?” He’s breathless, hips picking up speed as you clench around him, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching show just how good he feels. He spreads your legs then, picking you up and placing you farther on the bed so he can join you, this time sans shirts.

With a grunt, he pushes deep as his hands reach around and skillfully unhooks your bra. He slows his hip rolls as his lips toy with a freed nipple, tongue laving until it’s pert and he moves to the other to give the same treatment. He takes a hand, trailing it down the center of your body. His thumb presses into your clit, and he speeds up, pleading, “Cum with me, you can give me another one.”

You give him what he wants, his voice raspy with restraint is the thing that topples you over the edge, and his restraint is let go moments later when you squeeze him impossibly tight. The deep sounds that he lets out are loud, curses mingled with your name, not your nickname, but your real name, tumble from his lips as he releases into you, short pumps of his cock until he’s empty. He collapses his weight onto you, but it’s comforting, not crushing. You feel his arms wrap around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to cuddle your body into his chest.

“I’ll clean us up in a minute, wanna enjoy this feeling.”

Seokjin closes his eyes, but you agree with him, you don’t want to move just yet, because the pleasure coursing through your veins feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and not just because of the sex—you’ve done that a few times. It’s because of the man whose arms you're in, but his light snores let you know it's too late in the night to tell him.

You wake long before your alarm, but less sticky than when you fell asleep, Seokjin keeping to his word. You feel his arm strewn over your middle, so you turn and take in his slumber-filled face. His hair flops onto the pillow, lips puckered slightly as quiet breaths escape him. Smiling at how peaceful he looks, you don’t want to leave just yet, not when the bed is so warm, and even in his sleep he wants to keep you close, but you have no clothes for work. You silently climb out of his bed, going to the bathroom to freshen up before getting dressed. You call for a KakaoTaxi, and once it arrives, you kiss Seokjin on the forehead before leaving.

Once at home, you take the time to shower and get dressed for work, thinking about what you can do for the last date tonight. You know you want it to be special, because after the amazing night spent in Seokjin’s arms, him between your legs and splitting your walls…you’ve come to realize something significant. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin and you don’t want to stop being with him once tomorrow comes.

Deciding to take a leap of faith, you channel your grandma’s advice and decide that tonight at dinner, you will confess your feelings to him. You’re pretty sure that he feels the same way, based on his words and actions last night when you both showed each other a whole new side. You send a text to Seokjin saying he doesn’t need to pick you up, that you’re heading to work early and you’ll see him later.

He sends a quick reply of Be safe, beautiful. Can’t wait. Which is more than you expected from him so early in the morning but makes you feel giddy, solidifying your assumption of how he feels about you.

Once in your office, you utilize the extra time to search for a place to take Seokjin that’s worthy of hopefully becoming the place where you and he can become a ‘we’, but out of the limited places you contact, there’s no reservations available. You don’t have the sway to pull strings the way Seokjin could, but asking him or your coworkers for help would break one of the rules of your agreement.

The sun shifts across your office, giving way to midday as you work with good old-fashioned paper, pen, and highlighters, but you haven’t seen him or his broad shoulders that you’re sure you left some marks on last night. Rolling your computer chair back from the desk, you lean back precariously as you take a much-needed deep stretch and vacate your seat. It’s a quick trip from the 48th to the 50th floor; you figure if Seokjin isn’t in his office near yours, he must be working in his C-Suite office upstairs. Unfortunately, when you peek your head into the room, the vast dark-oak desk is empty, his large Samsung monitor turned off when you venture farther in.

With a sigh, you leave the office, nearly walking headfirst into Kim Namjoon.

“Looking for Jin-hyung?” his low baritone questions. “He's at a meeting with his dad to discuss some financial stuff, he’s been emailing me all day asking to be rescued.”

“Oh, I wonder if he emailed me too. I’ve been reviewing printed reports all morning.”

“I made the mistake of answering him thinking he needed work-related info—nope! He just wanted to tell me about how he’s been craving the truffle pasta at Flavors.”

You laugh at this, unable to hold back the smile as you imagine how bored Seokjin must be to be emailing about food. You thank Namjoon and head back to your office, an idea of where to go now planted in your mind.

Everything is falling into place for tonight, and you send Seokjin an email before you leave at 5 PM, detailing the plan for your reservation at Flavors tonight at 7 PM. His response is full of excitement, shocked that you read his mind about his craving (thank you, Namjoon!), and that he’ll meet you there and you better not be late.

Closing down your computer for the long holiday weekend per IT’s email, you gather your belongings and head home to get ready.

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Seokjin tries to hide his grin from his father.

“What are you smiling about?”

Seokjin takes a breath to keep from rolling his eyes and relaxes his face into a look of innocence. “Nothing,” he shrugs, mentally doing the math as he clambers into the car his father has chauffeuring them around. “Are we headed back to the office now? I have a few things I need to do tonight for Namjoon’s party tomorrow.” And a hot date waiting for me, he thinks.

“Not just yet, actually. I have one last meeting for us at Paradise City.”

Seokjin groans. “Father, it’s a holiday weekend, there’s nothing more we need to do today that we can’t do after Christmas weekend.”

“It won’t be long, Seokjin, we’re around the corner already. I swear your work ethic is piss-poor, sometimes I regret naming you my successor.”

It might not be a long trip from the hotel they just finished meeting at to Paradise City, but they were already over an hour away from where he should be meeting you in less than two. Irritated, Seokjin quietly tries to do the math for how long this meeting can be before he has to be on his way to you, but knowing his father, he worries about making it to you on time.

As the car pulls to the front of the main entrance, Seokjin decides to message you, just a warning that he will be late due to his father’s overbearing and controlling tendencies. He exits the car first, standing to the side to type a quick message as his father follows him onto the pavement.

“Put your phone away.”

When Seokjin ignores his demand, his father snatches his phone from his hands, pocketing the small device.

“Really, Father, you are being insufferable right now.”

“And you, son, are being rude.” Seokjin’s dad leaves him to head into the bustling hotel and casino, and with his phone held hostage, he has no choice but to follow him inside.

Once seated next to the thief at a four-top, Seokjin begs for his phone, but his father ignores him as he smiles at someone behind Seokjin’s head.

“Lee Jaeyong-ssi!”

“Kim Namjung-ssi!” The man bows to the elder Kim before sitting in the seat next to Seokjin. Seokjin gapes in horror at his dad as he realizes what his father has roped him into when the 19-year-old daughter of the country’s largest GDP contributor walks around the table to sit across from Seokjin.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

You’re prompt, body electrified as you give your name for the reservation and are led to a quaint, black-marbled table. The only downfall to the seating arrangement of the restaurant is that larger group tables line the walls with comfortable grey booth seating, while the tables for couples fill the middle walkway. Smoothing the little black dress with baby doll straps, you sit in the chair pulled out for you.

You take in the romantically lit room as the Maître d' pours you a glass of red wine, leaving the expensive bottle in a wine chiller on a small stand next to the table. Checking your phone, there’s no reply message from Seokjin of his estimated arrival time, but you don’t worry too much, thinking he’s probably parking his car or nearby enough. It’s only minutes past the hour, so you shirk off the cropped, fur-lined jacket from your shoulders and drape it over the back of your chair.

It’s fitting that the table is in the middle of the room, out in the open as if a reflection of where you want to take this relationship with Seokjin. You think you’re finally ready to admit to him what you realized last night and this morning.

7:17 PM. The Maître d' returns to ask if you would like to order. You tell him that you are still waiting for the other person to arrive, and give a little white lie that he’s just running late.

“What is the name of the other half of your party? I will make sure to bring him promptly when he arrives.”

“Oh, it’s Kim Seokjin,” you reply shyly. His eyes widen minutely at your unintentional name drop, and that coupled with murmurs from the guests seated nearby, leaves you feeling a heat rising up your neck. He excuses himself, saying he will be back to check on you once your date arrives.

7:47 PM. The looks of pity start to trickle into your view as you turn your head to look towards the door for the millionth time. The Maître d' has walked past to escort other patrons to tables, but he avoids coming over to you—you guess it’s because he doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that you’re still alone, and he said he would be back only once Seokjin arrived. You appreciate his tactfulness, but you worry as you check your phone again for a message.

8:17 PM. Your phone is held to your face, dial tone ringing in your ear but you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve called him. All of your text messages have gone unread, and inside you simmer with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Your phone (along with others in the vicinity) chimed with a notification from the WeVerse App, reporting a major headline.

JinHit CFO Kim Seokjin Spotted with 19-year-old Samsung Heiress—And Their Fathers!

And in smaller font underneath: Marriage meeting? Should we expect wedding bells and a massive business union? The read more teases photos catching the quartet out at Paradise City.

A fool, you think, realizing Seokjin must’ve never planned to come. Paradise City is almost an hour and half by car at this time of night. I am a fool for even entertaining the thought of giving my heart to this man!

Standing from the chair, you don’t bother hiding your emotions on your face as you grab your jacket and toss the cloth napkin onto the table before fleeing to the front to hail a taxi, waiting in the cold as unique snowflakes begin to fall from the sky with fluttery movements, before melting away a few moments after making contact with earthly items.

📈📈📈📈📈

At home, you sit on the edge of your couch unclasping the delicate buckle on your Manolo Blahniks. Tonight’s fucked with your mind more than Seokjin has the entire time this deal was in place. What started as a way to win—a way to prove you were smarter than Seokjin, better at mitigating for the company, gain a pair of expensive shoes—is turning into a stock market crash of the worst proportions.

Your grandma’s words float through your head and in this moment, you’re hit with a sudden clarity that this was never about a pair of expensive shoes. It was about letting yourself take a chance to live a little and be happy for once—hopeful that happiness with another person was within your reach—the heel you clutch in your hand, having slipped it off of your foot, sails through the air, hitting the off-white wall of your apartment.

You wake, puffy-eyed and unexcited, thinking about how things will be weird tonight for the party at Namjoon’s place, because not only have you slept with Jin, he’s also shattered your heart into a million pieces. It’s not the first time the thought crosses your mind that he might have known he was going to be set up with a child (no offense to 19-year-olds, the age gap is ridiculous no matter how rich your daddy is) and chose to spend his last weeks of freedom stringing you along, choosing to finally sleep with you right before he was off the market.

You fell asleep easily, but your phone ringing repeatedly woke you up close to midnight. The screen was blinding, but you could see who was calling you and you decidedly ignored the call, silencing your phone. You were then unable to return to sleep until hints of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and the consequences of that are now reflecting in your mirror.

This is just Jin being Jin, your mind says, when has he ever been serious about anything? He’s just flirty, and wanted to get his rocks off before robbing the cradle in sickness or in health. This is nothing new and he was just having fun with you. Going through the motions of your skincare routine, the feelings of disappointment and hurt are there, lingering in your chest with each breath, but you’ve decided to be tough. Your brain doing what it does best, trying to rationalize everything that isn’t a fact, blaming the way your emotions temporarily made you dumb.

‘I should’ve known’ repeats like a mantra in your head no matter how you try to drown it out with music from your phone. You’ve always had an uncanny ability to be hopeful when you know you shouldn’t, because good things like this never work out. You just forgot that little fact, but last night is the perfect reminder.

The thoughts settling in help as you go through the motions: toner onto a cotton pad wiped along your face, moisturizer gently massaged into your skin. Once you’ve finished with your makeup, it’s as if you move on autopilot, your fingers deft as they put the final touches wrapping the gift for Seokjin you finalized after work yesterday. Your logical brain reminds you that this party is nothing more than coworkers hanging out, a chance to put the bet—and your fake relationship—to rest, and making sure to bring a gift like the invite said is your way to show Seokjin that he didn’t get to you. He might win the bet, he might’ve had you wallowing last night, but he won’t continue to win power over your emotions.

You reread the last message he sent before sending him a text as you slip into the persona needed to survive tonight.

Jin (2:04 AM) - Please, baby, just…let me know you’re okay. I can explain everything. You (1:14 PM) - I’m getting ready to go to the party, what time will you be here?

Your phone lights up as an incoming call flashes across your screen, but you ignore it, letting your ringtone play until he hangs up.

Jin (1:15 PM) - Can I come now? You (1:20 PM) - I’m not ready yet and have some things to do beforehand, so if you can just let me know what time to expect you, I can make sure I’m ready when you get here.

You set your phone down, watching the bubbles pop up and disappear, indicating that he’s typing, but it still takes him ten minutes to send five words.

Jin (1:30 PM) - I’ll be there at 7:30.

📈📈📈📈📈

The drive to Namjoon’s party goes well for you, if you say so yourself. Not ready to deal with being alone with Seokjin, you make sure to call one of your friends from back home, spending the entire trip with your phone glued to your ear, rudely ignoring Seokjin’s attempts to talk to you until he gives up.

Walking into Namjoon’s place, the distinct smell of a fresh Christmas Tree wafts into your senses as his fiance greets you at the door. She’s all cute and small with a pretty smile as she bounces through the home to lead you and Seokjin to the living room. You greet the others who have already arrived, Yoongi and his girlfriend Leah, and Hoseok and his fiance, YuRim. A table near the Christmas Tree holds the gifts, so you walk over to deposit your gift bag, Seokjin following with a bag of his own to set down.

The layout of the room is an open concept, and Namjoon stands in the kitchen with oven mitts on. It’s a little strange to see your boss in such a state, matching fleece Christmas onesies with Khaity, oven mitts covering his hands, and a stressed look on his face as he stares at the small timer on the counter.

“Oh, honey, let me take the cookies out, okay? Come sit down with our guests.” Khaity rises onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she slips the mitts off his hands before gently nudging him towards the sitting area.

Another knock rings out, and soon Namjoon leads Jungkook in with NaBi. You aren’t sure whether she came with Jungkook or arrived at the same time and was invited by Namjoon, seeing as she is his secretary, but the way they smile at each other softens the wall that you built up against love. Even if you and Seokjin were a failed attempt, you hope that those two blind co-workers might figure it out.

The macadamia nut cookies are first out of the oven, Khaity plating and placing them on the table between the couches where everyone is gathered. The last to arrive, Taehyung with Hana and Jimin, trickle in a few minutes later complaining that the cookies were all gone.

“We have chocolate chip ones coming out next, you can have first dibs, okay?” Namjoon appeases before his face turns into confusion. “Wait, where’s your plus one?”

“I ended things with Ji-Soo.”

Everyone shows various levels of shock, and despite avoiding him since arriving, you can’t help but to meet Seokjin’s eye with a raised brow.

“Really? Why?” NaBi asks, truly invested in their drama.

“She’s just…a little brainless. Nice tits, but let’s be honest, we live in the plastic surgery capital of the world.”

“Well, I guess we know who gets to wear the ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’ santa hat tonight,” Leah jokes, tossing the furry red cap to Jimin.

“Gladly! But I had to block her number, she’s been blowing up my phone the past few days, and it’s gotten to be too much.”

“Probably for the best, right? You start your last semester next month,” Taehyung reminds his best friend.

“We’ll see, I might need to find a hot tutor in the class, maybe I can convince her to do my homework.”

“Do your homework, or do you?” Jungkook asks deadpan, and everyone laughs, the room full of mirth and holiday cheer.

“Why not both?” you second, sending the room into another round of giggles, and despite the awkwardness with Seokjin, you feel yourself relax into the persona you’ve adjusted into place to get through the night. You can do this, you remind yourself.

And you do a great job meshing with the group, hanging out with your coworkers and helping Khaity in the kitchen with some finger foods and more cookies to avoid Seokjin until the inevitable moment arrives. Gift exchange.

“All right, I’m going to get more wine in the kitchen,” Jimin stands, stretching his arms high as he steps over the others to escape the lovey dovey atmosphere as the couples exchange gifts.

Seokjin calls to him to wait, and everyone watches as he grabs the gift bag off of the table. Holding one of the dainty handles, his free hand reaches in and reveals a decent sized wine bottle in his grasp. “Can you take this with you? I got it as a contribution to the party.”

Jimin busies himself across the room with an open bottle of wine and his glass and you wish you could join him instead of engaging in the most awkward event since everything imploded last night. You pass the gift over to Seokjin who takes it with a little bit of shock, as if he’s just realized what type of party he came to and what he was supposed to do—and how he just fucked up.

Leah opens her gift first, a lavender velvet box containing a necklace. A small slip of paper flutters out, and she reads it before sharing the information. “A 100% pure sterling silver necklace with amethyst stones spelling a morse code message.”

“What’s the message?” Hana asks, leaning to look at the glittering stones.

“Badass Bitch.”

Taehyung laughs the loudest, almost choking on the chocolate chip cookie he was chewing.

“So, Seokjin, wanna tell us about the latest WeVerse gossip?” NaBi teases from the floor where she sits cross legged, cheeky grin as she rocks side to side next to Jungkook. Her hands fidget with the small charm on the bracelet Jungkook gifted her that you’re too far away to see clearly.

“Oh fuck, what a nightmare. My father basically kidnapped me. Took my phone and everything so I couldn’t contact anyone and let them know I was effectively unable to leave or even signal for help.”

“You wanted to be rescued? I thought dudes liked young, hot, rich heiresses. Your own Paris Hilton,” YuMi asks, and you can see her question holds a little…bite to it. You instantly like her.

“Hell yeah, I did not want to be there. I actually had plans that I was really excited for, but my father…he kind of ruined my night.”

“But the hot chick made it better, right? You’re gonna marry into the richest company, right?” Jimin shouts from the kitchen, cheeks ruddy from the wine. You, on the other hand, are over the topic of conversation. Moving towards the kitchen, you decide to follow Jimin’s lead and drown your sorrows.

“No way, she’s like eleven years younger than me. She’s barely old enough to drink, just finished Secondary, and we have nothing in common. Besides, I’m not attracted to her.” You can feel Seokjin’s eyes piercing into your skull, but you refuse to give him what he wants.

Namjoon’s gift from Khaity interrupts Seokjin’s next words, as he drops the small box holding an egg vibrator and turns red as everyone begins to laugh at his reaction. Except for you. Your eyes finally look at Seokjin, challenging him to finish his thoughts from earlier as the group settles back into silence as the last few finish opening their gifts. Yoongi finally frees his gift from the box Leah wrapped it in; he holds up a black leather Valentino backpack to show everyone.

“I…actually—I’m dating someone else.”

The group instantly grows loud again, voices trying to speak over one another as various tones of disbelief, shock, and animosity filter through their accusations.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because, I wanted to make sure it didn’t interfere with work first, I didn’t need HR getting involved with my love life.”

“Oh?” Namjoon focuses on this tidbit of information, ears perked for more. “Do I need to worry? It’s not Ji-Soo, right?”

You sputter into your wine, but luckily the males in the living room are cackling at the accusation.

“NO! I draw the line at sloppy thirds, thank you very much.” You try to slink away, the balcony looking like a great hiding spot when Seokjin says your name and everyone turns to you. “I brought my girlfriend and wanted to tell you all tonight.”

The group goes crazy once again at this turn of events, with Leah being the voice of reason once everyone settles. “Seokjin, I promise you, we never would have guessed…you didn’t even trade gifts with her, so color me a little shocked!”

You know Leah means to call Seokjin out and make him feel shitty, but the reminder also makes you feel a little despondent. Even if Seokjin had no intentions of marrying that girl, his current actions speak volumes. He couldn’t even be bothered to get you a gift; Kim Seokjin was not actually interested in you.

As the group continues to pester Seokjin about how everything played out last night since he’s dating you, you take advantage of their deviated attention and head for the balcony to escape for some fresh air. You don’t really pay attention to the group behind you, but you can see shadowy movements as people get up and begin to filter out for the evening, a few of the girls coming to the balcony door to wish you a happy holiday break, their muffled voices saying jolly goodbyes.

You struggle to return their holiday spirit, and how can you, when you think about how while you’ve lost the real bet, you won the experience of having Seokjin as your boyfriend. This time with him has been…better than you ever expected. Living life with a little more color, risk, and fun, but now that the bet is over, you not only lost the shoes, but you’ve lost the taste of a different life, a fun life, with Seokjin by your side. Especially if his father demands that he marry that…child.

The sound of the glass door sliding open is quiet, but you hear it despite not turning to look. You can tell from the spicy scent of bourbon & vanilla that it’s Seokjin.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks by way of greeting, and from the corner of your eye you see him fidgeting with a wrapped box.

“I’m used to it.”

He hums, and you sense he wants to say more. A few moments later you are proved right.

“Thank you, for the gift. It, uh…means a lot, coming from you.”

“No problem.”

He huffs, and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed at your responses or if he’s annoyed at himself.

“Look. I’m sorry.” Seokjin’s voice is sincere, and you cave for a moment, meeting his toffee eyes. “I know that I royally fucked up last night, but I meant what I said earlier. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with you. I tried to text you, but my father—he’s a dick, you know?” His following laugh is empty of humor. “I hope that you’ll forgive me, Kicks. Holiday spirit and all, if you feel the same way that I feel…fuck—I don’t even know what to say.”

Seokjin hands the box he’s holding to you, stepping closer. “I know according to our friends, I won, but last night…it definitely violated the rules. So while I most likely would’ve won…I know in my heart I didn’t…but I think you had fun with me these two weeks, right? It…doesn’t have to end here, you know? I think the one thing I really want to win…is you.”

His gaze is too intense, too scary and full of the hope you stuffed way down, so you focus on the gift in your hands. Pulling at the open edge of the wrapping paper, you unravel the gift wrap to reveal a marbled cream box with gold letters across the top. Your breath grows shaky as cynicism sneaks into your chest, only to be replaced with astonishment. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment lay in the box, sparkling in the light filtering through the balcony windows.

“Jin,” you try to speak, but all you can say is his name.

“You deserve these, and not just because I lost on a technicality. You deserve these because you are just as magical as these fucking shoes are. You challenge me, push me to be better, and help me along the way. You believe in me more than my own father. You just,” he sighs your name softly, taking the shoes from your grasp and setting them on the outdoor table so he can hold your hands, “you see me. All of me. And if I remember correctly, you weren’t opposed to what you saw, might have even liked it.”

His light teasing, alluding to that night, has your body warming despite the December chill.

“Do you mean it?” You hate that you have to ask, but you need to know it’s real. Not just you reading into something because of false hope clouding your judgment.

“God, you are so brilliant and yet, so dense.”

Seokjin closes the remaining space between your mouths, plush lips firm as they show you how much he meant every word.

“I want to be with you. No bets, no rules, no strings. Just you.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

The drive back to Seokjin’s place is fast; neither of you can keep your hands off of each other and he refuses to slow at yellow lights in fear that he’ll combust if he doesn’t get you naked…

The moment he has you standing in his lofted bedroom, he pauses just to take you in. Seokjin swears he never thought he could get so lucky—he always thought his fate would be similar to Hoseok’s arranged marriage, though that turned out well in the end. But someone like you? He never saw it coming.

Shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders, he lets it fall quietly to the floor, stepping closer to you. His hands feel way too hot when he places them to your cheeks, but if he’s supposed to die from a burning desire, well fuck, he guesses there isn’t a better way to go. He’s falling hard for you, and as he ducks his head to meet your lips, he lets his hands move to undress you.

Seokjin doesn’t understand how you can be so soft, so warm, so inviting; everything about you envelops him until he’s consumed by you. Leaving you only in your underwear, he uses his hands to cup behind your thighs and lift you, carrying you to the bed.

“You look like an angel.”

Seokjin’s sheets are black, and with your white matching bra and panty set stark against the sheets, he’s in awe of you. He wants to savor you. He wants to defile you. Slowly, so slowly that you whine at him, he trails his lips along your clavicle, fingers lightly brushing your exposed sides. He pauses every so often to lave at your skin, supple beneath his tongue, before his dexterous fingers slide the straps to your bra down each arm. A quick tug frees your breasts, and his kisses continue to taunt and tease, circling but never reaching the pebbled nipple despite the arch to your back.

“Please Jin,” you beg, fingers fisting into his hair. He just chuckles at your neediness, your pleading words only adding to the pressure tenting in his pants. Trailing kisses lower down your stomach, his tongue traces the edge of your panties until he bites at the edge, making you squirm from his teeth.

He loves that he gets to have you like this; wants you like this always, pliant and happy beneath him. Settling himself lower, his chest between your thighs, Seokjin begins to mouth at your covered core, tongue searching for the slit between your lips where your clit waits, probably throbbing for him.

The sounds you make are pornographic, egging him on more. Wrapping his arms under your thighs, he curls his bicep so that his fingers can reach the edge of your panties. Pulling them aside, he pours his energy into leaving the sloppiest kisses around your clit and lips, strong arms not allowing you any room to pull away from the pleasure he’s delivering. Not that you’re trying to; your hands have a tight grip on his hair so you can roll your hips for maximum pleasure.

Tonguing at your leaking core, he flicks along your opening, reaching inside you before alternating to flick your clit. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, the pressure building as you cry out for more. Like a siren's call, he can’t deny you, so he surrenders two fingers to your pulsing walls, plunging them inside rapidly as you pant, moans slipping from your lips until you cry out his name.

He laps at you lazily as you ride your high, and when you pull back from over-stimulation, he pulls himself up along your body, flopping down to lay next to you where he can gaze upon you. You, his beautiful…girlfriend? Did you establish that? He ponders it for a minute until you call his attention.

“Fuck, Jin…You’re a demon.”

“I’m your demon,” he responds, looking for an opening to broach the thoughts on his mind.

“Only mine, right?”

He can hear the way your voice trembles as you ask, and he wants to kiss away any lingering doubts in your mind.

“Only yours. You’re my girlfriend, exclusively. If I’m honest, you have been since you agreed to my bet. It was only ever you.”

“Good,” you say, and he jumps when your hand rests atop his aching cock only two layers between your skin and his.

You eye his zipper before looking back at him, eyes low and simmering with heated desire. “Can I?”

Seokjin moves quickly to shed his remaining clothing, eager to have you in a way he’s only dreamt about. You laugh at his silliness, and while he was exaggerating a little to make you laugh, part of him really feels this way. Heart-racing and giddy, because of you.

You kneel onto the carpeted ground between his legs, waiting for him to lower himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He leaves his feet planted on the floor as he strokes himself, weeping with pre-cum that aids him in sliding his palm across his silky skin.

You trade out his hand for your own, delicate touches to show how much you cherish him before you take him fully into your mouth. He can’t look away, leaning back on one hand while the other strokes your head lightly, eyes on your face as your lips work up and down his shaft, tongue tickling his frenulum. Seokjin shivers with each pass. Your mouth is so warm, wet and dripping each time you choke a little on his cock, and your eyes look so pretty lined with unshed tears.

Fuck, Seokjin thinks he could fall in love with you fast, if you continue to look at him like that, with eyes wide as you deep throat his cock until your nose is tickled by the hair of his happy trail. Moaning as your throat convulses around his throbbing tip, light swallows squeezing the head. He almost says it when you pull off of him with a pop, just to take him deep again and add your hand to cup his balls as your dripping spit coats them to make for an easy slide through your fingers as you roll them in your palm.

Seokjin knows his own sounds are not very manly but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know how good you make him feel, and his breathy groans are a little higher than his normal talking voice but if anything when he lets out a sound it seems to invigorate you more and—shit—“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby—” spills from his mouth and instead of popping off him and letting him cover your beautiful tits, you hold yourself closer to him until Seokjin’s sighing out your name as he falls back onto the bed, his eyes screwed shut as fireworks shoot through his veins.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

Returning to work after a week off is always tough; having to adjust your alarms to wake up on time, no more lazing away in bed watching Netflix or reading a new Best Seller you were gifted. No breakfast in bed after being Seokjin’s breakfast in bed—no time when you’ve overslept your alarm after a late night on Facetime with your boyfriend.

Seokjin’s out at his family’s vacation home, has been just for the weekend, where he told his parents about you and successfully avoided the marriage plans his dad attempted to trap him in. Once he gets back, there’s plans to have dinner with them—apparently his mom is excited to meet you.

Seokjin’s entrusted his car to you while he’s been gone, saying it’s because the oil and gas shouldn’t sit and build gunk in the engine, but you have a feeling it’s because he thinks it’s sexy when you drive. And you love how the car smells like him, like bergamot and spicy vanilla—a warm hug until he returns to you.

Parking in his designated spot, you enjoy the perks of dating the CFO as you ride the elevator straight from the parking garage to your floor. It’s easy to settle back into your work routine, checking emails and reviewing reports until NaBi pops in on her way to grab food, reminding you of the time.

“Overworking already? I thought dating the CFO meant you could relax a little.”

You laugh at NaBi’s teasing, shoulder bumping her lightly. She presses the call button for the elevator to go down to the cafe. “I can relax a little. I just miss him, so it’s easier to focus on work until he gets—Ahhhhh!” You’re happily surprised when you see a slightly tanned Seokjin appear when the elevator doors open. The other workers hanging around the Property Acquisition cubicles startle and look over, but you don’t care.

You greet him excitedly, kissing him right there for everyone to see. Openly showing him affection, where before you would have shied away, you can feel Seokjin is receptive to this as he pulls you in closer.

“I got us lunch,” he says between quick pecks before releasing you, and you realize he’s holding a tied plastic bag with styrofoam food trays.

“Sorry, NaBi!”

She eyes you as if to say, ‘bitch, you lying’, but her smile shows she’s not mad at you. You have a feeling this is the perfect excuse for her to have lunch with a certain IT coworker…

Following Seokjin to his office, you hold his free hand with both of yours. “I missed you,” you muse, and he chuckles at the sappy look you give him.

“I was only gone for the weekend,” he says with a wink as he leads you to his massive desk, “but I missed you too, so I thought I would surprise you with lunch. I’m glad I did, I get to see this version of you that I’ve always known was there.”

His words have you furrowing your brow, tilting your head in question.

“You know, my girlfriend, who I’m able to be goofy with, but who still maintains the same work ethic and drive that I love, just with heart eyes only for me.”

“Ew, why are you being so cheesy?” His words make your heart flutter, so of course you have to wrinkle your nose at how soft he’s making you feel.

“Because, you know, I kind of like you. A lot.”

Seokjin gestures to the corner of his desk, and you notice that the photo frame you purchased him for Christmas sits there, ‘World’s Best Boss’ engraved in gold with a purple frame surrounding a picture of the two of you taken on the candlelit dinner cruise. The card, where you poured out some of your most heartfelt thoughts about Seokjin and how much you believe in him, lay open under the clear, protective placemat on his desk along with the photos of his fraternity days, his mom, and other notes from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi.

You feel an overwhelming emotion fill your chest, so you lean in and kiss him, unable to contain it.

“I like you a lot too, but honestly, you’re lucky to have me. Your lover, your friend, your partner in crime…in sexy ass heels.”

Seokjin laughs with his whole chest as he sees you’ve got on the shoes he gifted you, and you thank your lucky stars for whatever brought the man in front of you into your life to help you avoid the red.

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 1 year ago

Text

Non BL Fan watches Only Friends

Hey. Yeah so I'm still on this. So when Only Friends ended, it left kinda of a bitter taste in my mouth. I liked a lot of things about it but by the end it really didn’t leave a good impression. There’s been a lot written about it, about expectations, and branded pairs, and how fandom may have played a role in this, and how the writing maybe because of that kinda took a turn midway through the show. And it kept bugging me that these opinions were also rooted in our understanding of this type of media, and everything that comes with it. Be it branded pairs, all the bls that came before or the industry as a whole. But I couldn't really have any perspective because I'm part of the problem. I'm too close. So, the only way for me to kinda get over this was to get someone far removed from this to watch it. And here is where my friend Neely comes in. They're not a bl watcher. The only bl they ever watched was Choco Milk Shake which I think we can all agree would not influence their viewing of Only Friends. They are however the only person who I talk to about bl, or the only person who has the patience to listen to me, whenever I’m feeling particularly annoyed about something or just wanna share a good moment. I immediately sent them the olive oil scene (with only a tiny bit of context) because it was so beautiful that I needed to scream with someone about it. So anyway, I asked them to watch the show. They knew a couple of things about it, because I complained to them about it at the time, but they has no reference for it so, I don’t think that I influenced the viewing that much. Also they're pretty unbiased about everything.

So last night they watched the first 4 episodes and I’d like to share their thoughts with everyone who like me might be curious. Because they're the best person ever, he wrote a whole text about it so I could share. Also we're almost at the end of the year and this might be the thing that finally closes this chapter for me. This is what they had to say after watching the first 4 episodes.

(I'll be adding my own thoughts in purple)

After 4 episodes, mostly I think it's really predictable plot wise for anyone who's watched a general TV western series, like a Netflix production, which I was maybe surprised. The ways to cause drama and plot advancement are very similar. Of cpurse this is me saying this based on the other BL I watched (Choco Milk Shake) which felt much more out of the expected canon.

Just to get this out of the way: they're all toxic and terrible people, to the extent I find it very hard to connect to any of them. Just in the exposure parts of ep1 there's all of them being horrible to Ray for being drunk – even though they also are? - and to top it up later on they're all drunk, and the woman (sorry I should know her name but it's not like they're giving her any storyline or screen time (aside from, I almost forgot, randomly spraining her ankle 😂) for me to remember) I thought that the fact that this was obvious to them from the beginning was very interesting because I maybe gave them more rope in the beginning to expand on her because I thought she was gonna get more later. she's even drunker it seems but they all fall on Ray only; they literally complain he wants another drink and judgementally go "ewww more drinks don't you think it's enough" and dig into his drinking, he leaves, and then they continue drinking? This got even darker to me when the suicide attempt is revealed, and from then it became really hard to consider them friends? Maybe Mew and Ray but the dynamics of that are anyway weird. This is something I myself struggled with all through the show, like how are these people even friends? and I understand the point illustrated by @bengiyo in this post but I still couldn’t get over that. And maybe that’s just the way I see friendships that these people looked even worse in my eyes. Like I cannot compute them treating Ray like that, even if they're done of his drinking, when they know where he's at emotionally. It also doesn't feel they ever tried to help him so I don't think they have the right to be done, just feels like they don't care.

Top, toxic from day one with this challenge attitude towards fucking the virgin; and the gross way he speaks about it with Boston. It's a big no from me to both of them. It's not even them hooking up for me, Top is just kinda sleazy, manipulative, hyper entitled, I do not take anything he says as truth because he just feels so double faced to me. Even just these episodes he's already shown so many cracks: hiding the hook up with Boston (which I'm beginning to feel was more than a hook up?), the whole random drug dealing thing, how he objectifies Mew like a virgin-trophy when talking to Boston, how he manipulates him and also his weird jealousy and control. Ok, this is where I admit I was completely wrong. I thought that way of seeing Top was very influenced by the promotional material and the way the crew and actors talked about the character. And yet, without any prior knowledge he immediately disliked him. I was not expecting that to be honest. And in this case maybe I just wanted the character to go in a different direction so I kept not seeing the pretty obvious red flags. I mean I saw them but tried really hard to look behind them. My bad. Although we could both agree that he’s gorgeous.

I don't like Mew, but I don't think it's the characters fault or how it's written. It's just the troupe of character writing, especially in gay shows, that I can't stand. It's kinda cancer vibes (astrology lol). A bit not necessarily overt but a general sense of holier than thou cause he's a virgin and "has standards". I don't think he's leading Ray on, I think he actually kinda communicates well he just wants friendship. He could be clearer but also this is TV, so we need slight unclearness for drama purposes lol, but I'm not mad about that. Miss communication is the bane of my existence but it apparently makes for compelling television. Or not.

But generally this hot fuck everyone guy falling for the kinda dorky virgin is so dull to me, this virgin is always this weird insert of purity, more often than not an insert where the writer in one way or another projects himself into, to be able to judge the rest of the community, the moral compass (read: normative in terms of society expectations, also kinda mildly Christian coded, like girl next door in the village), and I do always find it a bit queerphobic. I'm not saying there aren't queers like that and that they shouldn't be represented, but the very intense and obvious writing decisions to position him as this moral center (also visually he's always wearing whites and pastels? Virgin mew, Virgin Mary! Lol) that makes all the other characters, often queer, seem kinda dirty and mean and unprincipled. I have nothing to add here because I agree with them on most of this, and I also think that it was never a coincidence to have a virgin in the middle of this group, to serve as the barometer of right and wrong. Cause he's the pure one so he must know what's right. I disliked mew almost instantly when the show started, because I always thought he was just a terrible friend and that’s the greatest sin of all. A small note that I think it's hilariously dumb that he's been protecting his Virginity for all this time and so like "omg it's hard for me, omg I go slow, omg I have a check list" and then it's like "you drop coke I drop pants", virginity done lol. This was just funny and accurate.

I am not talking about Boston right now cause I hate him. And I also hate that they wrote the slut in such a cliche but I do think they did. I remember you saying something people attacking him too much and him being slut-shamed, but he's written as villain quite clearly. Lol I think he's leading mobile phone shop guy on, it's very player manipulation vibe to be always giving him just a bit more to keep him going and the promise of something more open, when we know he just wants to fuck, and especially fuck when he's butt hurt about Top and Mew. And the way he's treating Mew, terrible friend; and also the advances on Top are far from boundary and consent-based lol. But also Top doesn't feel very interested in getting out, he just weirdly stands there silent being licked in the neck, so I blame both on that whole thing. I have to say that I never really read the shower scene like others might have, like obviously Boston was being terrible to Mew in that moment and not respecting Top's boundaries, but I also didn't see Top as helpless in this moment.

I think the only pair that gets away with actually being cute and not toxic and manipulative is Sand and Ray, they're my faves. Yey!! I find them very endearing and with so much chemistry. They're the only characters who honestly genuinely said sorry to each other and had some accountability when they fucked up with each other.

Even tho I'd like a bit more from Sand about the whole "burden to society" comments at the start - they annoyed me so much. The others it's manipulation after manipulation for me, and it doesn't allow me to get into them so it feels like deep lack of chemistry. Top and Mew's relationship feels really really really meh to me. And I don't know why they're friends, also cause very little of them as friends gets shown after ep1. Well they have the school project that keeps them together but other than that really, why? As I explained above I really struggled with the friendship aspect of all this.

But generally, I feel like the editing and writing are very like Mew is amazing and the others are horrible, and we do just get scenes of everyone being shit and Mew not being great but being naive and cutesy with a hint of superiority. Also you're a virgin your not a thumb stone, give your boyfriend a kiss sometimes. I thought this comment was hilarious but also obviously from a non bl watcher because that didn’t register to me, because I’m so used to boyfriends being so shy around kissing in bl that it didn't even cross my mind.

I think I'm slightly meh by all of them but partly is maybe my expectations too - I knew this one specifically was a bit westernized, but I was nurturing this little idea that it would feel a bit different, that some of the ways things were explored would feel different because of the cultural differences, but I do think you could sub all of the actors for white us-americans and the script would fly, you could probably even set it in a progressive state in the us and wouldn't have to re-write much.

So, I might totally be talking out of my ass, but what I'm left thinking is: is there really no culturally specificity to queer community there? is really all queerness and promiscuity in Thailand this performance of the west? Maybe it is, because of different social rules and expectations and freedoms, I really am not knowledgeable enough, but I'm just wondering if it's that or if it's just being made to be more palatable to me. And I think that's fine as a choice for them to know target audience, but I'm left wondering how the actual scene is in Thailand, what the social pressures are there and how they navigate them, specifically at this nexus of queerness and promiscuity. I also don’t know enough about the culture in Thailand to speak about it but I do agree with the point that this show could be made in us tv and they really wouldn’t need to change much. Without knowing anything about the creators of ofts, aside from the fact that they’re queer, they said later that they would compare it to something that Ryan Murphy could produce.

After I read this I had a chance to video chat with them briefly , and there were a couple more things that came up that I thought were really interesting. they were asking me about the actors and how well known they were, etc. Because they thought that the characters were purposefully being shown as really flat, and just bad with no redeemable characteristics and that maybe because the fandom already knew them and already liked them, they could do that without needing to waste time making us care for them, by giving us their good sides. Which I never really considered, but as with most things, our prior knowledge might play a part in this too. I know at least for me, I'm not gonna lie, the fact that I like Khaotung definitely made me care for Ray from the start in a way that maybe I wouldn't normally have.

Anyway, they'll continue to watch it and I'll probably post more of thoughts in the future. I also started to rewatch it slowly so I'll definitely keep thinking about this. If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. 💜

#only friends the series #only friends meta #rose and neely ramble #thai bl #ofts

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because-of-a-friend · 2 years ago

Text

Band-Aid

MASTERLIST

Hi guys, I’m back! Sorry I was gone for so long, I got so busy this past year, I thought I might have to retire this blog for good. But I’m going to try and make time for it, let’s hope it works out this time!

Disclaimer: It has been a LONG time since I’ve written ~anything~ so I am plenty rusty lol.

Thanks for the request anon! This is such a cute prompt! Hope I delivered! After this I’ll have four drafts left and then I can answer the requests in my inbox!

Warnings: Mentions injuries/illnesses, blood, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1k

Remember that gifs aren’t mine! If you like them, pls click through to show their OPs some love!

You have to laugh as Seungcheol loudly announces to Jeonghan that his head is hurting

You two have been going through this cycle since you were first hired a few months ago

At the beginning, Coups had an excuse to talk to you all the time

Since you were new to the team, he took point on explaining important info to you

What allergies the boys had

Previous injuries you needed to be aware of

Where they generally kept their first-aid supplies

But once you had it all down, there was no reason for him to talk to you on a daily basis

But by this point, Cheol had realized that he very much liked speaking to you

He felt that you two had connected well and wanted to get to know you more

But since you were on the med team, you were often quite busy seeing as there were thirteen members that were in constant need of check-ups, aid with different levels of injuries, and general everyday care to combat the strain they put on their bodies

You hardly ever had time to just speak to him

The only time you really could

Was when you were treating him

So Seungcheol had started to come up with any excuse under the sun to come and talk to you

First he was constantly complaining that he must have sprained his wrist, or twisted his ankle or pulled a muscle

Then he was constantly getting stomache aches

After that he was getting rashes or little scratches

Now he was in a phase of faking headaches to come and talk to you about it

You knew all of his injuries were fake from the very beginning

He stopped cradling his first “sprained wrist” to tell Seungkwan off for being too loud

He ate full meals that the other boys ordered even when he had his “stomach aches”

You had started carrying around makeup wipes to clean off his supposed “scratches and rashes”

Someone complaining of a headache was a little harder to disprove though

But you were sure you’d catch him somehow

You had begun to enjoy playing this little game with him

As well as the time you got to spend with him because of it

“Well you don’t have a fever,” you tucked your thermometer back into your medical bag

Seungcheol sat in front of you with a pout on his face

“Are there any other symptoms?” you ask

Seungcheol dutifully shakes his head

“Well do you want a pain reliever? Or maybe I should tell them to send you home and rest?” you feel his forehead once more for good measure

“Oh...” he hesitates, “I don’t think it’s serious enough for either of those...”

You smile to yourself

It was quite cute to watch him fumble with trying to feign sickness without exposing himself

“Well should we schedule an appointment with a neurologist to make sure this isn’t a problem?” you push him further

“No, you take care of me well enough” Seungcheol beams

“Well we have to find a solution eventually,” you sigh. “How’s your water intake? Or did you add anything new to your diet? Increase your screentime?”

“No, they just started out of nowhere,” Seungcheol shrugs innocently

“Well I suppose I can let you go for today but, if it happens again, I’m sending you to the doctor”

“[Y/N]!” one of the managers calls for you. “We need your help prepping supplies for the next concert.”

You give Cheol a bit of a smug look, knowing you’ve backed him into a corner with his latest fake sickness and then

You rush off to help

Seungcheol sighs as he watches you leave

He just lost another excuse to spend time with you

Later that evening Joshua watches with pure amusement as Seungcheol paces back and forth in the dorm

“Should I say I think I have a sinus infection? Or maybe I could claim of frequent muscle spasms... I feel like constipation has to be my last move.”

“I feel like constipation is a never move,” Joshua interrupted. “Just tell [Y/N] that you like them.”

“I can’t do that, what if they don’t even like me?” Seungcheol complains

“Well then you have an answer and you can stop wasting both of your time,” Josh shrugs

“Wasting time,” Seungcheol repeats. “What if they really don’t like me and I’ve just been annoying [Y/N] this whole time?”

He hates the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach

He begins to remember all the times you would shut him down as quick as possible

Or when you would rush off to help someone else as soon as you were done exposing a fake injury of his

How you would sigh and roll your eyes before walking away

Apparently he failed to notice the playful look on your face as you did so

“What? I don’t think [Y/N] would put up with it if you were truly wasting their time,” Joshua protests

“No, I really should stop. It’s [Y/N]’s job and I should leave them alone to do it. Let’s just start getting ready for the concert tomorrow”

Seungcheol’s mood is noticably down for rehearsals the next day

The other boys are off because of it and they’re trying all they can to cheer him up

You notice as well and begin to wonder if Seungcheol is genuinely sick for once

And then you feel really worried because he usually would use any excuse to come speak to you but he’s not even trying to mention what’s obviously bothering him

“Are you feeling alright?” you corner him, once again pressing a hand to his forehead

“I am, just worried about this performance,” Cheol reaches up to grab your hand, his thumb pressing into your palm as he pulls it away from his head

Then he just walks off

You feel really uneasy about the concert

Everyone else does too

Seungcheol may not be exhibiting any symptoms of sickness but it’s obvious he’s distracted and not ready to perform

Anxieties rise throughout the day but quickly stave off as the concert begins

As usual, Seventeen pulls through and the concert goes well

Even with Cheol somewhat distracted

But the good feelings end as quickly as they begin

When Cheol falls during a song

At first it looks like just a simple stumble

But as your watching the big screen, you see the horrified expression form on Seungkwan’s face as he looks down at his leader

You rush to the side of the stage as the other members help him off

They set him down on a chair in front of you and run back off to do crowd control

You quickly see why Seungkwan had seemed so disturbed

When Cheol had tripped, he had fallen against one of the stage props and scraped up his shin

The wound didn’t seem deep but it was large and producing plenty of blood

Coups feels terrible

Not even 24 hours after he decided to leave you alone

And here is a situation where you have to be with him

He can’t even think of his injury

He can only think of how he’s going to apologize and get out of your hair

He’s tested ten different apologies in his head before he actually looks at you

Your hands are gentle as you clean the blood and sanitize the wound

Cheol notices how you hesitate everytime you rub the disinfectant over his leg, seeing if it’ll cause him pain or not

There is a time where it does sting and he sucks in his breath

You look up at him and Cheol’s heart clenches

You look so worried

Your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s sweat on your forehead

“Does it hurt a lot? I promise I’m almost done” you say

Your voice is so genuine and kind

Cheol has to stop himself from grinning at how sweet and caring you’re being

“I’m ok, do what you need to do”

You wrap the bandages carefully once the wound is clean, even going back over where you feel you didn’t do a good enough job

“Does that feel ok?” you stand and put a hand on his shoulder, indicating with your other hand that he should move his leg and test the wrappings

He nods, “Thank you”

Then he gets up and heads towards the stage

“Woah,” you stop him with a hand on his chest, “where are you going?”

He grabs your hand the same way, a thumb pressed to your palm, but he doesn’t move it away from him this time

“Back out,” he gives you the smile he uses when he wants something

“You can’t go back out there,” you insist, hoping he can’t feel how warm you’re getting while he holds your hand

“It would be best for the fans to see that I’m ok,” Cheol says more seriously this time

You think it over

“...You’ll have to sit in a chair for the rest of the performance,” you insist

“I’ll accept that with my own condition,” Cheol is beaming at you again

“And what would that be?” you laugh

“I take you to dinner after”

Before you can respond, he pulls you towards him, kisses your cheek, and runs off onto the stage with a chair

And your hand flies to your own forehead to check your tempertature

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aealzx · 2 years ago

Text

Better Genes part 29.1

Part 1 of 3 extra, illustrated writing additions to the Better Genes comic.

Takes place between page 29 and 30.

Contains: Use of sedatives, character injury, blood, TV Medicine, TV Science, panic attack, mutation body horror, injured eye, severely sprained ankle, overall body pain

Comic: Start pg 26-29

Writing: Part 2 Part 3

____________

I got a couple comments about being excited for monster Donnie content (despite mentioning that there wasn’t going to be much) and felt kind of bad for not having much. ;v; There was no way I was going to add another 30 pages or more to the comic though, especially since I’ve never even tried to do fight scenes in comic form before. X’D

So instead I wrote 8 pages and drew 3 more flat colored pics as a sort of middle ground.

Talking with my platonic waifu, since the comic is on tumblr I’m also going to put the writing on tumblr instead of AO3 despite it being long because cross platform content can be annoying. Everything will be split into 3 posts, underneath a read more break to hopefully not stretch the screen a horrendous amount.

____________

(Story and drawing under the cut)

With a quick swish of his temporarily manifested blade, Leo opened a portal to the part of the sewers that was a short distance from where he’d sent Donnie. He didn’t want to pop in right next to him and startle him into attacking them after all. It would be better if they could sneak up on him and pop a few rounds of sedatives into him first. Unfortunately, when Leo stepped through the portal he was greeted with Casey’s back coming in hot directly at his face, having gotten bodily launched across the sewer tunnel by Donnie’s clawed hand. With a startled, halfway muffled yelp, Leo dodged to the side slightly and flung an arm up quick enough to catch Casey and help him regain his footing instead of crashing into the others filtering through the portal as well.

“Alright there Case?” Leo asked with a forced grin, trying to remain optimistic despite the scene before him being the unwanted route. So much for sneaking up on their brother.

“Sorry Master-! Ah… Sorry Leo. He noticed we were following him and got angry,” Casey babbled hurriedly. His upbringing made him quick to give an update on the situation, which also ended up answering Leo’s unasked question about what had ticked Donnie off.

“Yeah, that sounds like Donnie,” Leo chuckled, removing his hand from supporting Casey now that he had his balance back. “He always was quick to lash out when we got in his space when he didn't want us there. Too bad it’s time for his medicine, so we can’t give into his cranky wishes for alone time,” he added dramatically, gesturing to the injection pens Mikey had now that he and April had joined them as well. “We got the antibodies, so we’re ready to take him down and bring him back home. Thanks for sticking it out until now.”

Casey’s expression turned into a sheepish yet grateful smile, but before he could respond Raph’s bellowing voice echoed through the tunnel from close by.

“LEO! You didn’t mention he’d grown another meter!” Raph complained emphatically as he was grappling Donnie’s mutated mouth with ninpo covered hands. He didn’t fancy getting bitten by Donnie’s new set of fangs, considering his original set of teeth already did enough damage when he was legitimately angry. And if Raph knew anything about Donnie’s levels of anger, then he would guess Donnie was beyond pissed at the moment. That combined with his new size made grappling him a losing battle, Raph’s heels dragging paths in the dirt as he was shoved backwards.

“I figured that was rather self explanatory considering what he got infected from,” Leo sassed back, loading one of the sedative darts into the gun and taking aim. He was hesitant to fire with Raph directly in the path, but luckily for both of them a quick snap from Splinter’s tail saved Raph from being Donnie’s new chew toy. The forward momentum was broken, and Raph quickly opened his hands as Donnie’s head was knocked to the side.

As April rushed forward, her name belted from her lips, Leo figured he should pass a word of caution to them all just so it would be explicitly known. “Try not to piss him off too much please. We need him rather still for Mikey to administer the antibodies,” he warned, pulling the trigger on the tranquilizer gun when he felt he wasn't going to hit anyone but the intended target. He ended up wincing in apology the dart smacked Donnie in the side of the nose, causing him to recoil slightly from the sting before shaking the dart dart off and turning to snarl at Leo.

“...Maybe you shouldn’t shoot him in the face then,” Casey commented lightly with a weak chuckle, a slight tease, and an analytical pause for an opening before he ran forward to join the fray once more.

“Okay, so aiming in real life is a lot different from video games,” Leo defended with a sheepish shrug. Donnie apparently thought that was enough of an offense to warrant revenge, for he started to charge towards Leo, causing him to start backing up. “Mikey, I need a weight estimate.”

“Got it!” Mikey chirped, securing the injection pens into his belts and darting forward to dash towards Donnie before feinting to the side. Considering Donnie was way too tall for him to grapple anything but his arms or legs now, Mikey had coiling chains wrap around Donnie’s middle as additional ones helped fling him overhead. Twisting in the air, Mikey latched onto the handholds he’d created and used them and his momentum to heave Donnie into a rather gentle toss a few meters away. “Uhhhh….He’s kinda like one of those tiny smart car things?” Mikey called back to Leo after landing on his feet again in a crouch. “When do I start poking him?”

A smart car? That was a weird comparison. But it actually made sense when Leo remembered Mikey’s usual choice of throwing arsenal. But that definitely wasn’t something he knew the weight of by memory. Which meant he was digging his phone out of his shell for a quick internet look up. “As soon as you’re confident you can hold it in place for 8 seconds,” Leo answered, half distracted by the phone. About 700 kilograms? Well, it was better than a complete guess. He’d just have to play on the safe side and maybe do one or two doses less than calculated for that weight. Loading another sedative dart as he calculated the maximum quantity he was allowed to use in his head, he tried to push away the usual second guessing his brain did. Based on the tests he’d done in Donnie’s lab with the left over blood sample, the mutated physique caused him to have a slightly accelerated metabolism rate with the sedatives, and therefore he should be able to safely use 8 darts before he risked an overdose. Now that he had a set number Leo raised the gun and fired another dart, stabbing Donnie in the crook of his shoulder.

That made two.

This felt too slow. Half of his team was already worn down somewhat, and he was taking too long to aim and wait for an opening with all of them swarming around Donnie like flies on old cheese. Every time they tried to break away from him though he was immediately lashing out at one of them, causing the others to rush back in to support. Sliding another dart into the gun’s slot, Leo started walking towards his brother, hoping that closing the distance would make it easier and faster to hit him with more sedatives. It would also be great if he didn’t have to reload the gun after every single shot. But Donnie apparently hadn’t made the gun for rapid fire. Unusual for him honestly. Taking aim, Leo’s focus was split as he pulled the trigger when Raph gave an unusually pain filled yelp. Donnie’s new tail had caught him in the side of the head, close enough to the tunnel wall to bounce him off the surface slightly. It was enough to cause Leo to suck in a tense breath, knowing that Raph’s scar was fragile, and look towards him before the trigger was fully pulled. Consequently, the third shot ended up missing, crashing into the opposite wall and probably snapping the needle. That was fine. That’s why they filled an excessive amount of darts. There were more important issues at the moment.

“Raph?” Leo called in a nervous question, seeing his older brother pushing a palm against his right eye.

“I’m okay!” Raph assured, keeping his palm in place until the sting subsided, then pulled his hand away. While he checked to see if there was any blood on his fingers, Donnie’s back foot knocked him over and ended up using him as a pedestal to stand on while he avoided April’s swinging bat. Raph’s breath left him in a huff, and he wrapped his arms around Donnie’s toes to try and relieve the pressure on his chest.

Figuring he should help Raph out, Leo dashed forward as Mikey lept into a split arc over the top of Donnie, apparently having the same goal. Splinter was focused on keeping Donnie from hurting the others, knocking his clawed hand away when he swiped at April. “Boy! You better watch where you're swinging those!” April hollered, having ducked and shielded her head before realizing Splinter had protected her.

“Try not to hurt him too much, it’s still Donnie!” Leo hollered in return, rushing to dive underneath Donnie in a slide while also pointing the tranquilizer gun at him half blindly and pulling the trigger while barely missing getting swatted instead. Being this close to him it would be hard to miss. Or at least he hoped as such. But he also needed to check and make sure Raph was okay. Skidding to a stop next to Raph, Leo allowed Raph to use his ninpo to shove Donnie’s foot off himself before he took a glancing look at his squinting eye.

#my art #my writing #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #better genes #better genes add on #Leo #Raph #Mikey #April #Casey #Donnie #Medic Leo #use of sedatives #written eye injury

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jerzwriter · 1 year ago

Text

I've Got You

I realized I had no art for Casey and Jess, and when I decided to rectify that, I knew exactly who I wanted to go to. @rosefuckinggenius did not disappoint! Look at my two sweet girls! I love them so much! Thank you for bringing my babies to life, Rose! You're the best!

I wrote a little drabble below to accompany it. I hope you enjoy it! 💕

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series/Med School) Pairing: Casey MacTavish (F!MC) x Jessica Phillips (F!OC) Words: 696 Rating: Teen Summary: Casey & Jess are taking a little break until there is a turn of events - then it's Jess to the rescue. A/N: Participating in @choicesnovchallenge - Go For A Ride Day - not in the traditional sense, but hey, it works! lol and @choicesflashfics "Don't put all the blame on me." My Casey & Jess series takes place during Casey's med school years in Philadelphia, so this is prior to her arrival at Edenbrook.

For more on Casey & Jess, see here.

My Full Masterlist

Based on the crowds, it seemed all of Philadelphia was out to enjoy the beautiful late spring day, and Casey and Jessica were no exception. They put their books aside for a while to take a relaxing walk along the Race Street Pier. It was just what the doctors-to-be ordered... until things took a turn. Literally.

“Ouch!” Casey winced, toppling to the ground with her hands clutching her ankle.

Jess was immediately at her side. “Case? Babe, you OK?”

“Ow, no,” she groaned. “I think I twisted by ankle."

"Oh, hon! You have to be more careful."

"Hey! Don’t put all the blame on me. I was distracted by the gorgeous woman next to me. You're a hazard, Jess."

Jess was happy to see Casey maintain a sense of humor, but she was already at her feet, fully in physician mode.

“I didn’t hear a pop when you fell, and the ankle presentation’s normal... so I don't think it was a break.”

“Trust me, if it was a break I wouldn't be cracking jokes. It's just a twisted ankle," Casey said attempting to stand. "I'll just... OW!"

"You'll just sit and let me continue examining it!" Jess demanded. "You're obviously in pain... and I can feel some instability when I move it... it's probably a sprain."

“Let’s see if I can stand on it.”

“All right,” Jess agreed, quickly rising to support Casey. “Slowly..."

Casey did her best to be brave, she didn't want to be bested by a stupid misstep. She managed to stifle a yelp as a jolt of pain shot from the tender spot, but her eyes screwed shut, and that was all Jess needed to see.

“That’s it!” the beautiful redhead insisted. “You are not walking home.”

“Jess, don’t be ridiculous. We’re only about three blocks away.”

“Yup! Three blocks too many for you to walk in this condition."

"It doesn’t hurt that bad," Casey fibbbed. "I can wobble.”

“Wobble my ass!” Jess snapped, turning her back to Casey. “Let’s go. Hop on.”

“Wait... what?”

“Hop on! I'm carrying you back to the apartment.”

“You’re giving me.... a piggyback ride? Really?”

Jess turned around with a roll of her eyes. “This isn’t for fun... and don't get excited... it’s nothing kinky, either. We just need to get you home so I can look at that ankle better. At a minimum, you'll need some ice and elevation."

“Jess, it’s not necessary... I can...”

But Jess was done. “GET ON!”

Casey knew when it was time to hush up, and now was that time. She hopped onto her girlfriend's back at once, but she wasn't done complaining.

“For the love of... Jess... I love you, but sometimes you’re just...”

“Just what?”

Hearing the concern in Jess’s voice, Casey felt her defenses thawing. “You’re just... too good to me. That's what you are. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Jess said with the very smile that first caught Casey's eye. “Patients in pain can be quite crabby... I learned that five minutes into med school.”

Jess lifted Casey's thighs, and Casey wrapped her arms around Jess's neck. But when it didn’t go as smoothly as they had hoped, the two women couldn’t help but laugh.

“Babe, look. I'm laughing. Are you sure I can't try to...."

“CASEY!" Jess snapped.

“But I weigh as much as you do! I don't want to hurt you."

Jess continued to walk with a shrug of her shoulders. “Why do you think I work out so much?”

Casey's brow crinkled. "I don't know? You do work out a ridiculous amount of time. Why do you?"

"Isn't it obvious? I have a beautiful, brilliant... but clumsy girlfriend... I have to be prepared for moments like this.”

“Gee, thanks,” Casey laughed, nuzzling her face into Jess’s hair, the sandalwood scent of Jess's shampoo filling her senses. “Jess?” She whispered, squeezing her just a bit tighter.

“Yes?”

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

“You really are,” Jess grinned. “But then again, I’m lucky to have you.”

“You are,” Casey giggled. “But try to play it safe, OK? Because if this should happen to you... I couldn't do this... I'd have to spring for an Uber."

~~~~~

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart f!mc #open heart f!mc x f!oc #casey mactavish #casey x jess #open heart fanfic #open heart choices #choices open heart #cfwc lgbtqia #playchoices fanfic #choices fanart #playchoices fanart #rosefuckinggenius

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xx-lemon-drop-xx · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, hi!! May I have some hcs for Pomefiore boys (separate) seeing their s/o with wet hair for the first time?

I thought s/o with curly hair, but you don't need to specify the reader's hair type or gender! Feel free to add/remove any character to the ask.

Good weekend! <3

I'm so so sorry this took so long to come out! I sprained my ankle and then proceeded to loose motivation for a little bit. I hope you enjoy these though!

Warnings: Sorry if any of this is wrong, I don't have curls myself, gn reader.

Request: Yes.

Words: 703

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Vil Schoenheit

He had let you borrow his personal shower after a bit of an incident– Ace had ended up spilling his lunch all over you. Which Vil did see as rather distasteful though he didn’t say anything about it aside from giving Ace a look while guiding you back to Pomefiore for a shower.

Touches up on his makeup while waiting for you to get out of the shower. After all, he can’t let his appearance start to fall. That wouldn’t do for being Pomefiore’s dorm leader.

He turned when he heard the door to his bathroom open, seeing you step out with wet hair and a towel wrapped around your body.

Your natural curls were loose and fell down a bit more on your body than he was used to. It made you look even more elegant than you already were to him. He quietly observed as you pulled on a pair of panties and one of his shirts.

“I didn’t expect curls to look like that when wet.”

He piped up, arms sliding around you from behind. Vil’s hand gently grabbed onto a delicate curl, wrapping it around his finger for a moment as you leaned back against him.

“What were you expecting them to look like?”

He was silent for a moment, pondering on an answer. “I’m not sure,” He admitted. “I’ve never seen wet curls before. You’re gorgeous either way, though.”

Rook Hunt

“Oh mon dieu!”

Overdramatic and enthusiastic as can be, Rook over exaggerated every word he said. Though just like everyone else you were used to it, even more so due to the fact he was your lover. No one knew him better than you did. That was simply just the obvious, of course.

“Your curls look merveilleux mon amour.” He spoke softly, arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You paused your movements, letting the towel lower from gently rubbing and wringing the water from your lovely hair.

"Thank you?" A light laugh breezed from your lips, making him smile as he stood to his feet. Rook strolled over to you, slipping his hand under your chin and lightly grasping it, pulling your head up to meet his gaze.

"Why the face ma chérie?" A coy smile pulled at his lips, showing the small canines he had. "Do you not expect me to love and worship every beautiful piece of your body?"

By now, you probably should have expected him to swoon. He made sure to always compliment you, after all.

He sat down the rest of the time and watched you care for your hair with interest.

Epel Felmier

Looked up his homework he was completely on his bed and his brai short circuited.

Why was your hair.. So long?

It honestly took him a minute to notice your curls where wet and you'd probably just got out of the shower before heading to his room. Your curls where still perfect as could be though. Epel was quick to compliment you as you came over to him.

"(Y/n), you look nice." He'd cleared his throat, a blush bubbling up on his cheeks. "Specifically, your hair."

He didn't know they got so long when your hair was wet, but he wasn't complaining either. He did however have his questions. As any young man would.

"Does your hair hold in more water than people with straight hair?"

After answering his question it wasn't long before he'd looked up from his half completed chemistry homework to ask another one. He's just so curious.

"Does it tangle more than a person's with straight hair?"

You told him if it wasn't properly cared for then yes, it would tangle just like any other persons hair. Pretty much, Epel is just curious about your hair. After all, his is short and mostly straight. He also asked if you had to use special conditioners and shampoos.

#twisted wonderland #gn reader #Twist Vil #Twist Rook #Twist Epel #twisted wonderland vil #Twisted Wonderland Rook #Twisted Wonderland Epel #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier

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geowrites03 · 3 years ago

Note

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, i wanted to request a pietro x reader fic :) maybe one where he is badly injured during a mission and she takes care of his wounds

- Hi! thank you for being the first person to request a fic from me :) although, I’m sorry that this is shorter than my usual fics I didn’t really know how to write it :/ But I hope you enjoy it :) -

Let me do this, you’re hurt.

Pietro Maximoff x reader

Summary: As Requested.

All of the Avengers pile into the room after long mission all complaining and talking about how much they want more time off. Everything seemed fine till I noticed that Pietro wasn’t in the room, he would usually tackles me in hugs by now.

“Hey Wanda, where’s Pietro?”

“He’s down in the med bay, he didn’t want to worry you so he’s trying to patch up his own wounds.”

“Thanks.” I rushed off to the med bay to find him.

I walked in and didn’t see him at first which made me worry for second till I heard him wince. I walked over to the back of the room and saw him attempting to stitch a cut. I cringed at how he was doing it. If I let continue doing the stitching like this it would most likely get worse.

“Here let me.” I took the needle from his hand and carefully removed the awful stitching he had done. He hissed as the needle went back in when I started stitching.

“You don’t have to, love.” I shook my head and continued stitching his cut.

“Let me do this, you’re hurt.” I tied a small not and cut off the excess thread. I put a gauze over it and wrapped a bandage around his torso to keep it in place.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” He looked down at me and i looked into his eyes. I leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips.

“It’s fine.” I looked over his body for any more injuries, from what I could see there was only some bruising on his ribs and a bullet hole in his side. I walked over to the freezer to grab out an ice pack. “Just please be more careful.”

“I’ll try, I promise.” I handed him the ice pack and told him to put it on his ribs. I grabbed the tweezers out and removed the bullet as he groaned in pain.

“Sorry.” I mumbled while I quickly stitched the tiny hole up and kissed his bruised shoulder.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” I cupped his face and starred into his eyes and one was bloodshot.

“I think I sprained my ankle.” I got the cohesive compression bandages and started to wrap his ankle. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I finished wrapping his ankle and kissed his slightly cut lips. I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair and kissed him again. “Do you want to come lay down with me?”

“I couldn’t think of anything better to do.” I chuckled and we walked to my room.

We got to my room and he quickly changed into just a sweatshirt and his boxers. He laid down next to me pulled me closer. I looked up at him and kissed his cheeks. He giggled as I continued to attack his face with kisses.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” We already had a close call after fighting Ultron, and I nearly lost him. I wouldn’t sleep for days on end, all I did was watch him lay in his hospital bed tending to his wounds. Just thinking about it stills makes me sad.

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro x you #pietro x y/n #marvel x reader

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zinzinina · 4 years ago

Text

Directions

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: Experience vs. inexperience, descriptions of sex-related anxiety and insecurity, praise kink, encouragement kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, overstimulation, implied cum eating. Anything you think I’ve forgotten that needs to be flagged, please let me know.

A/N - This is just a messy little oneshot I’ve needed to get out of my system for a long time.

“I’ve never hooked up with a Twi’lek girl.”

“Really? Poe, I saw you running off with Buul like, less than two weeks ago. Drink.”

“Oh—yeah,” he grins, ducking his head and taking a swig. “Alright smartass, you’re up.”

You think for a minute. “I actually really like that polystarch bread they give us in the ration packs. It tastes way better than it smells.”

He gives you a withering look. “Who cares? That’s a shitty secret, whether it’s true or not. For that, you drink twice.”

You groan at him. “I don’t have any secrets. You know everything about me anyway.”

And it’s true; for as long as you can remember Poe’s been the one you’ve confided in and complained to, all the way back to when you were both green enlistees with the New Republic Defence. He was the only person who stood up for you when an overly ambitious young lieutenant forced you to run drills on a sprained ankle, and you’ve been equally as fierce in your defence of him when you heard the jealous gossip in the Resistance barracks; that he’s arrogant, an elitist, too much of a show-off, or that his parentage earned him a faster climb up through the ranks than he deserved. So what if he can be irritatingly confident? If people gave him a chance; a proper chance, they’d see him the way you do. Just a funny, kind idiot who once knocked himself out falling backwards off a repulsorcraft, who has a decidedly uncool penchant for vintage Felucian music, and who always tries his absolute hardest to do the right thing.

He nudges you with his shoulder, reclining side-by-side on the hilly green slope above the hangar. “How’d your date go?”

You grimace around your mouthful of warm ardees. “Ugh. Don’t ask.”

“Not good? He seems to think it went well. Wouldn’t shut up about you. I was ready to mute the comms and let him fly off course today just to catch a break.”

The thought of Kip telling everyone about the woeful “date” you two had is enough to make you want to stick your head into a live fusial thrust engine. You can’t keep the dry edge out of your tone when you reply. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure he had a great time.”

Poe snorts. “What does that mean?”

You suddenly find the buckle at the thigh of your pants incredibly fascinating. You can see Poe staring at you out of the corner of your eye and you studiously ignore him until he looks away.

“Huh. Asshole.”

You frown at this. “He’s not a bad guy. It wasn’t really his fault, anyway. Sometimes I just feel like it’d be easier to not bother.”

“Not bother with what? Dating?”

Your embarrassment is reaching critical levels and you suddenly decide this conversation isn’t happening. You are not going to talk sex with your prolifically active best friend just so he can tease you about it—or worse, feel sorry for you.

“Never mind. It’s your turn. Bare your soul, Dameron.”

He scooches closer to you on the grass, one hand propped under his head as he leans facing you. “No, tell me. What’s not worth it?”

“Can you let it go? Please?”

He scoffs. “What, like you let it go when I got my ass handed to me on Hosnian Prime by that guy I thought was giving me signals? You gave me shit about that for a month. I’m not dropping this. What’d Kip do to you that was bad enough to make you wanna go full monk?”

You make a strangled noise of consternation and pinch the bridge of your nose, answering him flatly. “It’s just the sex. It fucking sucked. It always does. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with it. I spend the whole time thinking about flight formations, waiting for it to be over so I can go back to my room and take care of it myself.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Poor Kip. That’s pathetic.”

You splutter at him. “You—ass—”

“Not pathetic of you, pathetic of him. It says a lot about his level of ability.”

You stare at him blankly. “Is that not normal?”

He starts to roll his eyes, but then he catches sight of your expression and he grinds to a stop, mouth dropping open stupidly. “You’re kidding. No. No way...”

You scowl. This is uncomfortable enough without him making you feel like even more of a freak. His eyebrows are disappearing up into the loose curl of hair over his forehead, his dark eyes wide with astonishment.

“What?” you demand.

“You think that’s normal?”

You’re jiggling your leg, a nervous tic produced by the prickly self consciousness you feel suddenly smothered in. He’s still staring at you like you’ve just pronounced a desire to relocate permanently to Hoth. “Wait, wait, wait. Baby. Are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?”

You fling yourself flat onto your back in the grass, head starting to swim pleasantly from the drink in your hand as you stare upward, avoiding looking at him. Baby had started as an inside joke years ago, after some slimy hotshot from another division wouldn’t stop saying it to you over the shared comms channel. Over time the accompanying story had eventually fallen away, leaving an automatic, comfortable nickname. Now, though, in this context...it makes your face feel a little warm. “Of course I have. All the time. Just…y’know, on my own.”

His full lips are still hanging open beside you and you can’t stop yourself from snorting at his dumbfounded expression as he splutters to find words. “How is that even possible? Who’ve you been hooking up with?”

“Does it make any difference? If I get blown into space dust tomorrow, it’s not like it will’ve mattered. And anyway, maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

He shakes his head with a surprising vehemence. “Nope,” emphatically popping the consonant. “That’s a lie. Not even a good one. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with you. Drink.”

You let out a startled laugh despite yourself and automatically take a sip. Poe stretches out beside you, arms under his head as you both fall silent. The sunset is spectacular; fragments of D’Qar’s ring glittering gold in the fading light, prisms refracting through high, wind-stretched wisps of cloud. The base has been quiet since you’d finished your shift, and the rest of your squadron had headed straight for the mess, leaving you both alone to your routine post-work drinks.

“What’d the General want to see you about?” You grip the bottle between your knees, stretching your arms back until your stiff shoulder cracks satisfyingly. Sitting cramped in that cockpit for hours on end has left you feeling sore and tense.

He stares up into the light-dashed sky, brows drawn down. “There might be a chance to intercept a First Order supply drop before they reach the Elrood system. She wants me to go down and check it out. It'll be hard to avoid detection with their scanners but it's worth a shot.”

“She trusts you. We all do.”

He nods, but you don’t miss the tense line of his neck. This is the part most people don’t see: he may be cocky, he may be trigger-happy, but he cares deeply about his responsibility to protect every person on this base and the cause they’re fighting for. It weighs heavily on him.

“You gonna see Kip again?” he says, casual tone failing to entirely disguise the intensity with which he’s avoiding looking at you.

You shrug. “Hard not to, considering we’re both in the next rotation.”

“Not like that. You know what I meant.”

You think about it. “Probably not. It’s...embarrassing, you know? Getting dressed up, trying to be witty and cool and sexy.” You cringe at your own words, scrunching your face against an almost-painful wave of remembered awkwardness. “It’s so much stress for so little payoff. And I’m tired of being left so…ugh, frustrated.”

“I can help you with that.”

Your mouthful of ardees somehow ends up exploding into your lungs and you sit up, nose burning, spluttering the drink all over yourself. He doesn’t say a thing, just waits until you’re done hacking.

“Wow. That’s not funny, you blurrg.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

You wheel on him, scandalised, but he’s still laying back, face serene under the gathering dusk.

“It wasn’t a challenge for you, Poe. I know your ego can’t resist the chance to prove that you’re somehow better than every other man on base, but I’m not here for that. Sorry.”

He has the decency to look offended, head tilting to the side to look up at you. “That’s not fair—and what do you mean, every man on base?”

“It’s a figure of speech. Like you can talk; you probably got to them all before I did!”

He sits up slowly, running the back of his knuckles absently over his shadowy jawline. “Just shut up, listen for a sec, okay? You remember when you thought you’d never be able to pull off a Tallon Roll? You kept saying it was impossible, you were gonna smear your X-wing all along the side of a Destroyer if you tried. You were so convinced you wouldn’t be able to do it, you talked yourself out of even trying. This is just that again. You do this, you know. You set yourself these impossible standards, expect you’ll be perfect at something straight away, and then you get all hopeless about it because you don’t like being bad while you’re still learning. And you remember what happened last time? I took you through it, step by step, until you weren’t stuck anymore. Now look at you! You make Pallaris’ flying look like total shit. Not that it’s hard to do, no offence, but…y’know.”

You can feel your lips turning down with doubt, and you know you’re probably making a horrible face but you can’t bring yourself to stop it. “You’re making fun of me.”

“No!”

“Then you’re drunk already.”

“I’m not—see, this is the problem, you never take anything I say seriously.”

“So, what, you’re offering to come along on all my dates and stand in the corner like a fucking creep, yelling directions? That’d go over real well, Poe, can’t see any other guys having a problem with that at all.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, help you practise. So next time you’re not so…stuck in your own head. As a non-judgmental, impartial friend that you don’t need to worry about impressing. We were gonna hang out at mine tonight anyway, Snap’s on an alternate schedule so we’ll have the place to ourselves. Might as well do something more productive than binge that shitty Rodian holo again.”

Your brain had ground to a halt somewhere during “non-judgmental.” He’s serious. He’s actually seriously making this insane offer to you. And even more incomprehensibly, you’re thinking about it. He’s right; he is a good teacher. Patient and unpatronising, he’d been tireless as you trashed one simulation after another, never laughing at you, genuinely excited when you showed signs of progress.

But this is...not the same thing as learning a flight manoeuvre. He might already know what your ugly-crying face looks like while watching a trashy holodrama or moaned about the smell of your feet after an eighteen hour recce in heavy flight boots, but this feels too much like peeling back your skin and letting him peer inside at something far more fragile. Sex is the one thing you’ve never discussed at length with him; despite knowing in a detached, academic sort of way that he’s indisputably proficient. You’ve heard enough of the giggling double entendres around base, and he’s never been shy about the quantity of bodies parading through his bunk. For him sex is a non-issue. He’s been totally open about hooking up with whoever is keen, affording it about as much gravitas as a casual sparring session. Unlike him, your own hangups and insecurities have meant you’ve always had trouble disconnecting your emotions from the physical act itself.

You’ve just never let yourself pause and consider it—really consider what it would be like to have his body against yours in the dark, soft eyes tracing your shape. A shudder fingers down the back of your neck. And you feel the realisation creeping up from the deepest, most firmly buried part of you, undeniable: you want it. Not for the reason he’s suggesting, though you know he can teach you more than anybody else you know. But because you want him. You’ve never let yourself think this before, but now that you do, you realise you’ve always nursed a tiny seed of jealousy that so many other people knew him in a way that you didn’t. He can never, ever know, you realise in the same instant. It’d mean immediate friendship over. He’s never had much of an interest in someone once the itch has been scratched, his indifference almost brutal once the novelty of a partner had worn off. That won’t be you. It would hurt too much. Which makes this really fucking dangerous territory. But that’s the thing about routinely flying blind runs skimming underneath shields to blow turrets off the hull of a Dreadnought. It makes you stupid-brave; bordering on destructive.

You affect aloofness, eyebrows raised as you look down your nose at him. “Aren’t you too busy for this kind of thing?”

He flicks a tiny button beetle off his jacket. “For you? No way. It’ll be fun. And we barely get to hang out anymore, since you took over training in J-Squadron. Two mynocks, one stone.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you search his face. Expression open, he looks perfectly calm. So you give him the tiniest, stiffest shrug imaginable. You hear your own voice as though from far away as you say it. “Okay. If you’re so sure about it. Let’s see what you got.”

His throat bobs as he finishes off his drink. “Okay.”

You’re hyperconscious of your own limbs as you stand. Have your arms always been so long? Has your elbow always bent that way? What the fuck did you just set in motion? Poe’s stretching beside you as he eases to his feet, leather jacket lifting to reveal the soft old shirt underneath. He grins at you, shaking the empty bottle over the grass to clear the remaining droplets.

“I’m gonna hit the showers and meet you back there. We said nineteen hundred, right? You want anything from the mess?”

He’s talking as though you’ve just arranged to spend the night discussing Mid Rim ecology; totally unaware of the state of acute distress you’re currently sinking into.

Mutely, you shake your head. You’re doing it already; exactly what he accused you of: overthinking. You’re trying to remember whether you have anything clean that’s slightly nicer than your loose flight pants and tank; do you have time to call through a request to a laundry droid? Probably not. Fuck, would Tallie mind if you borrowed something of hers while she’s offworld? But if you get changed into anything you wouldn’t normally wear, he’ll be able to tell and you have to try to act like you don’t care. Which makes you wonder if it’s worth shaving your legs. Would he even notice? You definitely need to wash your hair, it’s been jammed under a flight helmet all day and it’s probably disgusting…

He pauses, quirking an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. “You good?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and toss him a grin, stomping the loose grass from your boots. “I’m good. I’ll see you later.”

He disappears over the hill as you stand there, alarm blaring in your head, hands hanging dead by your sides.

Once, you were flying just a little too close to a Lambda-class shuttle right as one of your shots hit directly into its fuel lines, blowing it into a million pieces. Shrapnel clipped your S-foils and you’d been sent into a brutal tumble, brain scrambled by the extreme force of your spinning, barely able to stay conscious long enough to reroute auxiliary power to your servo actuators and regain control of your fighter.

Shaking and dizzy in the cockpit, you’d been positive you were going to puke all over the controls and yourself.

Now, standing outside Poe’s room, you’re feeling exactly the same way. What if you do manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you tap lightly on the door.

“Since when d’you knock?” is the muffled response, and you wince, pushing inside. His room looks the same as always, and you’re briefly disappointed, like you expected something to be different in some way, tinged with the significance of what’s about to happen. His hair is still wet, slicked from his face, dressed just in his loose sleep pants and white shirt, moisture from the showers darkening pinprick spots around his chest. It’s exactly the same way he always looks on a night in; comfy, lazy, unbearably sexy. You catch yourself on that last thought, shaking yourself internally. When the fuck did this become an acceptable way to feel about him?

He hasn’t yet looked up at you, reading something on his datapad and waving a hand vaguely in the direction of his bed.

“You left your socks here last week, again. I keep finding ‘em mixed in with mine. I go to put a pair on and can only fit half my foot in before I realize what’s happening.”

You should make a joke about his big feet. You should give him shit about how untidy he is. You should say something, anything, but all that happens instead is your mouth produces a soft little squeak.

He does look up at that, confusion written across his features.

“You don’t look so good. You eat yet?”

You shake your head mutely. “No. Yes. I’m okay. I already ate. I’m not sick, I mean.”

He blinks twice, and you can see the thoughts turning over in his head as he considers you, and the stiff, formal way you’re standing in the centre of his room. Alarmed at the thought of whatever it is he’s about to say, you force your legs forward, awkwardly bending to perch on the side of his bed, joints practically creaking as you wrench your posture into something approximating relaxation.

“I bumped into Thilini at dinner,” you say, sweat beading on your upper lip as you uncomfortably pluck at your shirt.

“Uh-huh,” he returns slowly.

“She’s pissed. Apparently you’ve been ignoring her ever since you guys hooked up.”

“I’m not ignoring her. I just told her I didn’t wanna hang out again. I’ve been nothing but friendly. And we don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

The abrupt change from the beginning of the sentence to the end pulls your attention back to where he’s standing, arms folded as he looks down at you.

“We don’t have to do what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You look like you’re about to cry.”

“Um, no? I’m completely calm.”

“You just walked in here like a protocol droid.”

You don’t dignify this with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. He sighs, dropping onto the bed beside you.

“That was meant to make you laugh.”

You try to smile at him, and feel your lips wobble instead.

“Hey. I’m serious, what’s going on in there?” He flicks the side of your head lightly, and the gentle brush of his fingers nearly makes you lose it completely.

“I just don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper to your hands, head bowed.

He huffs. “You got a bad fucking confidence problem. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, repulsive about you. So fuck that noise. And anyway, it’s just me. I’ve already seen you at your grossest. Remember that time you got Hesken Fever and your eyes crusted up?”

You glower at him. “Yeah, and I caught it from you. That makes me feel so much better.”

He’s shaking his head. “I mean it. Not to make this weird but have you seen yourself? Do you know how many times every week people tell me how lucky I am? And then I have to tell them we’re just friends, and they get stupid about it, but… anyway. The point I’m making is, have I ever lied to you? You know I wouldn’t be saying this shit if it wasn’t true.”

“I know, and I want to, I’m just...it’s gonna be so bad, Poe.”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point. We’re gonna figure out what you like, help you get better at it. But only if you want to.”

His eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth. You feel like you’re doing something underhanded, letting him be so frank with you. As though you’re misleading him, pretending this is purely instructional, that half the reason you’re already feeling a low, steady ache between your thighs isn’t just because it’s him. Clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your shirt.

“So. How…do you want to…?”

He grins crookedly. “Lay back.”

Swallowing hard, you scoot to the middle of the bed, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly. He considers you, scratching the shadow at his chin, as though he’s trying to decide how best to approach a particularly difficult puzzle.

“Okay, new plan. Let’s put something on. It’ll help, trust me. You’re way too wound up.”

You scrunch your face at him. “Ew, Poe.”

“Not like that. C’mon, how about that old Ithorian ‘vid you like? The one where the guy jumps off the mountain at the end.”

It’s one of your favourites, and you know he hates subtitles, which makes this a sweet gesture. He’s already off the bed, fiddling with the holodisplay propped up on a crate against the wall while you methodically chew your nails off. Gentle, musical sounds fill the room; Ithorian voices have always been soothing to you, the way they sound like wind instruments. The mattress dips behind you, and Poe’s arms snake around your waist, shifting you back onto his front where he’s propped against the wall, framed between his spread legs.

You tense, trying to sit a little straighter, afraid to rest any of your body weight against him, and his lips are at your ear, voice a low murmur. “Relax, lean back,” his hands coaxing until you’re curled against his chest.

And then you realize: oh no. He’s wearing that aftershave, the one you got him for Life Day; smelling of smoke and amber and woodsy Sohli bark. Your mouth is watering as you try to resist the temptation to press your face directly into his body and inhale. The opening scenes of the ‘vid are so familiar your gaze almost immediately looks through the display, eyes unfocused, the spiky kaleidoscope of your inner dialogue beginning to reform into something recognisable as coherent thought. He’s not bothered by your awkwardness, even though you would happily crawl into a fissure in the ground and disappear if presented with the opportunity. In fact, he doesn’t even seem concerned with whether or not something happens. He’s perfectly chilled out behind you, one hand resting on top of his head, his elbow bent out and leaning against the frame of the bunk. That’s what makes the decision for you: the thought that he won’t press you, would be perfectly content to let the whole thing slide if he thought it’s what you wanted. But now it’s been set in motion, you’ll never have a moment of peace until you know.

You wet your lips with your tongue, eyes focused on the display as you murmur to him.

“I’ve decided.”

You hear the shift of fabric as he turns to look down at you, and you hear rather than feel the motion as he nods.

“This is about you, baby. Whatever you wanna do, we can do. Including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

Your voice is barely more than a whisper. “I want you to touch me.”

You could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. His mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his straight white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

“Okay. But you gotta talk to me. Tell me if you want me to stop, or if something feels good, or you want more. Deal?”

“Deal,” you breathe back.

He gently loosens his arm from around you, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. Almost immediately, your heart kicks into overdrive. Kissing was never part of the plan. Kissing is romantic. Intimate. Something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realise that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. You can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“Oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your shirt, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“Good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

He inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. He drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“How ‘bout now?”

“Mmm…hmm,” you manage.

Softly, unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light but terribly precise right against the place you’re most sensitive. Your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

You can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

Still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. The tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“You still with me?” he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

His curled fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your pubic mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“You gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

You shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body. “Yes. Yes, I’m…it’s good, please don’t stop.”

He opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your lips, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re wet.

So unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs, crawl away from him. Your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin and feel him underneath.

“Baby...” he breathes, edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “You’re soaking.”

You clench your eyes shut, voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“I can’t help it, I don’t know why, it’s not my fau—”

“It’s so fucking hot. You’re so responsive,” he says, a distinct rumble in his normally smooth voice. He slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your labia. Even through the fabric of your pants you can both hear the slick sound and you suddenly want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. As though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

This is Poe. Your Poe. The same Poe you’ve fallen asleep next to countless times, cried in the arms of, laughed until you couldn’t breathe; real, ugly, chest-hacking laughter, the kind that makes you wheeze like an old man. And right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

The thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. He groans into your ear.

“Shit, baby…you’re so tight. You feel perfect. Does that feel good? It feels fucking good for me. I can feel your heart beating around my fingers.”

You can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. He withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. Your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars, dizzying heat rushing to your head.

He presses upwards, letting his fingers drag hard against something, and it makes you jolt in shock. He zeroes in, matching the lazy circles of his thumb around your clit to the rhythm of his fingers grinding inside you. His touch feels as confident as the way he flies, like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

“I can make you come like this,” he whispers into your hair. “I wanna see it, I bet you’ll make that face when you come, that pretty one like when you’re stretching in the mornings.”

You try to answer but your mouth isn’t capable of coherent speech, instead you garble the words.

“I think...I th-think…”

“Stop thinking, for once.”

He drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling. Your lips are parted, brows contorted with concentration as you feel pressure beating underneath your eyes.

“You’re doing so good, baby. You look beautiful; it’s so fucking hot watching you lose it for me.”

And despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. You watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

You’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, roll away from him, but you’re pinned there, watching. His pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away. His pressed-closed lips turn up, dimpling slightly and your answering expression feels shaky as you stare at him. This isn’t the toothy grin he uses when he’s trying to talk himself out of a patrol. This is the slightly-awkward, genuine smile he usually tries to repress.

“Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he tells you, and you’re already nodding before he’s even got the words out. He could suggest anything right now and you’d say yes.

“You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur back.

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning another little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. Sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. Your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“Don’t you want…?” you start, and he’s already shaking his head.

“It’s not about me.”

You frown, wanting to insist, but he’s already leaning down, his tongue gliding between your soaked folds. Every thought leaves your head except this one: you’d always secretly thought he was probably full of shit. Nobody is that good. All the gossip around base, the whispers and giggles you’ve heard following him. Surely it must be exaggerated, the kind of hyperbolic storytelling people used to make others gasp. But now, as he laves a wide, flat slick directly over your clit, pressing the sides of his tongue down as he goes, making you squirm, you’re humbled. He’s good. He’s really, really fucking good at this.

He pulls back long enough to look up at you.

“Open your legs,” he breathes against your skin, and you comply, letting your knees fall apart flat to the mattress.

He works slowly but methodically, humming down into your cunt, his tongue impossibly flexile. Your eyes pop open, staring blindly up to the cracked ceiling of his room, hands balling his sheets in your fists. Your body feels totally boneless, slicked and hot, no part of you dry. He slides his hands underneath your thighs, holding you by the backs of your knees as he works, and you roll your spine, arching into his mouth. He doesn’t speed up, just continues at precisely the same speed, patient and thorough, focusing on exactly the same spot; and it feels like ruthlessness as he drags your orgasm from you.

Your gasp is embarrassingly close to a squeal, high-pitched and unlike any sound you’ve made before. Your empty cunt pulses with need with each wave under his tongue as you come, driving your hips up into his face.

He leans up, stubble-shadowed jaw glistening with your wetness.

“You okay?”

Expression pained, your fingers are grasping at him, trying to reach his shoulders, his neck, dragging him up towards you.

“Poe, I want… please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

And it feels ridiculous to be so shy when you can see yourself shining on his lips, but you can’t help it, words dying in your throat.

His eyes are soft, heavy brows lowered as he searches your face. What you can’t say: I’ve always hated watching you touch everyone else. I’ve never wanted anybody like I’ve wanted you. You’re my favourite person in the galaxy.

What you say instead: “Fuck me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You need a break first?”

In answer you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. He ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and as you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt, you’re struck with the sudden, exigent need to sink your teeth in. Pressing your closed lips to the curve of his bicep, you breathe in the smell of his skin instead, restraining yourself. His eyes dip closed for a moment at the feeling of your lips, and when he opens them there’s an urgency in his expression, his hand shifting up to brush your face.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?”

You burn, horrified by the question, but he’s holding your jaw still, making you look into his face, damp black curls hanging over his forehead as he’s braced over you.

“How many?”

Your voice is a tiny, unfamiliar squeak as you answer.

“S-six.”

He nods as though you’ve confirmed something he already suspected.

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, almost to himself.

He doesn’t give you a chance to work that out before he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist. And oh, fuck, he’s big, bigger by far than anything else you’ve ever felt. You have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

His teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. He forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“Oh, sh…shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.”

You release your own held breath with a judder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. He sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. You arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. He looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his own strangled intake of breath following.

“You see that? You see how perfect you are? You’re...your body…fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...” and you know he’s always had a big mouth, but this is beginning to roll into unhinged babbling, words just pouring out. You’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open and you can’t think of any way to shut him up other than this. You press your closed lips to his, tasting yourself on him, tentative at first. He parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. His groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. You both freeze, hands clutching at each other like two drowning people. He’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. His hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; Dameron just cannot shut the fuck up.

The agonising, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. Experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

You wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. Poe’s eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“What’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“Just...fuck, hang on,” and something in his voice makes you pause, blinking up at him to clear the glaze over your sight.

“Is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

He doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“Poe?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“Oh shit, say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. You lose control of your senses. You can’t see him, can barely hear him under the roar in your ears. Everything that you are is concentrated in your cunt.

“D’yknow how...ungh, how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna...” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “You’re fucking perfect. Your pussy is perfect.”

Your face erupts with heat at his words. He catches you flinching and his eyes light, flashing a glimpse of his teeth even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re—ungh,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “...sweet, so sweet and tight and, fuck, I can’t believe how well you’re taking me, I know it’s so tight, but you’re doing so good, so good for me, you always… always have been…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs.

He’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. You squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. You tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

You gasp, arching your neck up, accidentally bumping into his face, nearly poking yourself in the eye on his nose as your hips tense up. You can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a garbled moan of his name.

Your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. He watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. He barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. The sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. It’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him a flight manoeuvre is impossible, when someone says no to him leading an attack, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

He leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. Your head tips, neck limp at the change of angle, exposing the length of your throat. He cups a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the holovid as he begins to fuck you in earnest. You can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. He leans back even further, kneeling upright on the bed and releasing your legs. Your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his starfighter, practised and nimble.

Sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your own mouth to still the sound. He leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. He grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that, don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you,” and you sob, biting your lip, trying to stay quiet. Unimpressed, he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. He dimples at you, a curl falling in his eyes.

“That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he murmurs, voice ragged. He rips the sound from you again, and again, repeating the gesture, watching greedily. It’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realise what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in a wordless writhe.

This time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. His cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you make a sound that isn’t even human, deep and wild and snarling as another orgasm rolls thunderous up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. You’re blind and deaf, your hips twitching helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight. It seems to last an eternity, every time you ride your climax through to its completion a new chain reaction shatters through your body and you’re tumbling in freefall, terrifyingly lost within your own body, limbs numb.

Some impossible time later, you realise his breaths have shortened into gasps. His hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its galloped rhythm. You manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. He looks down at you, and something massive hangs suspended between you for a second. You recognise each other as though you’d somehow forgotten, a strange surreal moment opening up.

His mouth falls open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. His back curves over you, forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you, each hot gush a new mark permanent inside you.

He lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. Everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. You shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“Was that...okay?” you breathe, self conscious again.

His eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“You’re crazy. She’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress. As he raises his body, the silver ring on the end of his chain swings loose from the neck of his shirt, dinging you lightly right between your eyes.

“Ow,” you gasp, eyes flinching shut.

“Oh shit. Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, pressing an apologetic finger to the spot. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

“Why didn’t you?” you mutter, scrunching your nose.

Nonplussed, his answer is simple. “Because it’s you.”

And it’s a tiny thing, meaningless really. It was probably an accident, a result of his absolute familiarly with you. You already knew the ring was his mom’s, the most precious thing he owns. But your mind snags on that detail: with anyone else, he’d have taken it off. He wouldn’t hook up with someone else wearing it. You’re sure that means something. Your overly analytical brain is already whirring over it, trying to figure out what it means, but you’re interrupted. Gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“What are you doing?”

And his tongue laves another long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Your head drops back to the pillow.

#poe dameron #poe x reader #poe x you #sw smut #poe dameron x female reader #filth #i'm so sorry

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!!! Can I request a dreamteam x reader where they see her as a little sister (I’m a whore for cute platonic fics what can I say) and she either gets sick or injured when they are all together somewhere(vidcon, dream + sapnaps place in florida, whatever you want). And it’s just full of protective big brother figures and fluff? Thank you sm!! Also, you can do it as a drabble, head canon, or imagine, whatever sparks inspiration or you are in the mood to write. Thank you again!!

the moment you meet the dream team

they almost immediately adopt you as one of their own

“we’re keeping her,” sapnap says the moment you disconnect from the call, his gaze firm

while george nods, clay’s lips quirk up into a fond grin. “for sure—she reminds me of my sister.”

just like that, an instant friendship is formed between the four of you

clay’s mischief kicks into overdrive when he’s around you, and he just loves to tease you

if only to watch you splutter and bury your face in your hands

“aw,” he croons between wheezes, “are you embarrassed, [y/n]?”

you whine into your headset, and he only laughs in response—you really are too cute

while he likes teasing you, he loves to dote on you more

always shipping presents off to your house with handwritten notes

together, the two of you just love to play pranks on george every chance you get

george will grumble and groan, cursing at dream while you giggle at his red cheeks, hot with embarrassment

but he’ll never get mad at you

the instant you pout at him with those puppy dog eyes, he just melts

“just—” he sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair. “—just don’t do it again, okay?”

you smile, but you never quite promise him

it’s not like he’ll yell at you, anyways

sapnap, on the other hand, loves to mess with you

if he isn’t annoying you on minecraft, he’s poking fun at you every waking second of the day

“hey, hey [y/n], hey, listen, pay attention, [y/n], hey—”

“what do you want?” you snap, frowning at him with puffed cheeks

he shoots you a cheeky grin in return, a devilish gleam flashing across his gaze. “you’re smelly.”

really, it’s like you’ve gotten three new brothers

and in a way, you have

when the four of you all finally meet for the first time

it’s an absolute mess

you oversleep and miss your flight, waking up to a barrage of missed calls from the three of them

soon enough though, you're stumbling into one airport and running out of the next

the three of them stand at the gate waiting for you, a big cardboard sign with your name scrawled across the front in messy, chunky letters

it makes you laugh, and you throw yourself into their arms, your heart swelling in your chest

the drive to the house you all rented is full of bickering and chatter, but when you ask what you guys are going to do tomorrow, the car falls silent

clay grins, his emerald eyes gleaming like stars in the rear view mirror.

“oh, just you wait and see, princess.”

the next day, you’ve got your face pressed up the car window, your lips parted in awe

of course you guys would go to disney world

not that you’re complaining or anything—especially not when clay’s the one paying

you convince them all to buy the iconic mickey mouse ears and wear them with you

and no matter how much he complains about how dumb they look, you don’t miss the way george smiles at the reflection of his ears when you pass a window

you guys are dead-set on doing the four parks challenge, pointing out every ride on the map as you travel from spot to spot

at one point, you all stop for a bathroom break, and you find yourself sitting on a park bench patiently waiting for the boys to come back

you’re flipping through the map when a gust of wind suddenly breezes past you, pushing the map out of your hands and into the open air

in a flash, you’re stumbling up from the bench and rushing through the crowd, chasing after the map

you weave in and out of waves of people, your eyes glued to the soaring page with your arm outstretched

your fingers are about to grab onto the fluttering paper when someone bumps into you from behind, sending you careening to the side

your weight comes crashing down on your ankle as you land on the ground with a thud, pain shooting through your leg and up your insides

tears spring to your eyes as you bite back a muffled whimper, rubbing at your ankle

it must be sprained, you think distantly to yourself

you look up, the crowd surrounding you almost overbearingly as you wince, pain wracking your body

where am i? where’s clay? and george, and sapnap?

you shift your foot, another pang of pain surging through you, and your watery vision blurs even more

you’re about to burst into tears when a hand grips onto your shoulder, familiar and warm

you whip around, sapnap’s concerned gaze scanning your face

behind him stand clay and george

clay’s hands are balled into tight fists at his side, fury rippling across his features

next to him, george’s usually unimpressed expression has shifted to one of pure panic, his eyes wide

“what happened to you?” he asks, his eyes dropping down to your throbbing ankle

at your side, sapnap’s hand squeezes your shoulder ever so gently. “did you sprain your ankle? how badly does it hurt? ar—”

clay cuts him off with a low voice, stormy and full of rage

“who did this?”

your eyes shoot wide open, and you shake your head at him. “it’s no biggie. i was just being dumb, then someone bumped into me.”

when clay’s eyes flash darkly, more words rush out of your mouth. “they didn’t mean to! it was an accident, i promise.”

you reach a hand up toward him, tugging at the hem of his shirt with a pleading look. “please don’t be mad.”

there’s a beat of silence, then clay sighs, shaking his head with a whisper of a smile.

“well, i guess we lost the four parks challenge then, huh?”

you offer a bashful smile as george laughs, rolling his eyes at clay. “that’s the least of our worries right now, dream. let’s just get [y/n] home safe and sound.”

sapnap gets to his feet, crouching in front of you with an easygoing smile, gesturing to his back. “hop on.”

with george’s help, you climb onto sapnap’s back, pressing your check against his shoulder with an apologetic frown, regret tugging at your lips

“sorry this trip didn’t go like we planned.”

the fingers wrapped around your left thigh tap gently against you, reassuring and firm

“don’t be so hard on yourself,” sapnap says gently

your eyelids flutter shut, and while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his voice

“we’re just happy to have you here.”

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agent-kihyun · 4 years ago

Text

neighbors [ldh]

pairing: Neighbor!Hyuck x reader (feat. 00 line)

wc: 6.1K

rating: R/18+

warnings: explicit smut; oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), flirting, making out, sex jokes

summary: When Lee Haechan moves in across the hall from you, you must figure out how to resist his charm in order to prove a point to your roommates. But what’s the harm in giving into temptation?

↣

The minute that your neighbor across the hall, an older woman who lived alone, passed away, you were mildly relieved. Yes, you know that sounds...bad. But, in your defense, she was rather mean to you and often complained to the landlord about you and your roommates despite the three of you not disturbing her.

You had hoped the landlord wasn’t planning on filling the empty apartment with new people again, but much to your dismay, within days the new apartment is rented out to a new tenant already. But what could you do? It was happening whether you liked it or not.

“Hey, have you heard?” your roommate, Bomi, bursts into the apartment practically screaming.

You casually flip a page in the magazine that you’re skimming, “Heard what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Bomi shuts the door and walks over to you, snatching your magazine out of your hands.

“Hey! Give that back! I literally have no idea what you’re talking about!” You half-heartedly reach up for your magazine.

“We’re getting new neighbors, you dweeb!” Bomi laughs in excitement.

“You’re a dweeb,” you pout and re-open your magazine, continuing to skim the pages.

“Are you not excited about getting new neighbors?” Your roommate scoffs.

“I couldn’t care less, to be honest,” you shrug.

“You’re unbelievable. I’m pretty sure they’re our age,” she smacks your knee to get your attention.

“Okay. Cool.”

“Hey! Show some enthusiasm!” Bomi whines.

“What are you trying to get her to show enthusiasm for?” Another one of your roommates, Gaeun, walks into the living room from her room.

“We’re getting new neighbors! I just saw them moving in across the hall into Mrs. Kim’s old place! They’re really cute,” Bomi explains to Gaeun.

“Really? Oh my gosh, let me see,” Gaeun rushes to the door and takes a quick peek as your new neighbors move their boxes into their apartment.

“You guys are so lame. We never interact with any of our neighbors anyway, what's the big deal?” You roll your eyes and finally put your magazine down.

“Because...they’re hot,” Gaeun says after she closes the door.

“Bomi just said they’re cute, so which is it?”

“Don’t be such a smartass,” Bomi says to you and you cross your arms in indignation.

“Let’s go welcome them! Introduce ourselves so they, y’know, like are familiar with someone around here,” Gaeun suggests with a wink.

“If they’re still moving their stuff in, it’s probably not a good time. Just wait till they’re--” You begin.

“Shh, I wasn’t asking you,” Gaeun sends you a quick glare and you shoot daggers back at her.

“Yeah, let’s go say hi!” Bomi grins and the two take off faster than the speed of light.

You stand in the foyer of your apartment, alone and now in a sour mood. You decide that there’s only one thing that can cheer you up at the moment: ice cream. You quickly grab your phone, keys and wallet, slip on your shoes and swiftly leave the apartment.

Your two roommates, standing in the doorway of your new neighbors’ apartment, call you over to say hi, as if they totally didn’t just ditch you, but you ignore them and take the staircase instead of the elevator.

You take a good hour at the ice cream parlor, eating ice cream by yourself and trying to distract yourself from the events from earlier. Why did you have to care about new neighbors? Why did Bomi and Gaeun make you feel like less than for not caring? Who cares if they’re hot? Maybe they were right for giving you weird looks, you think.

The ice cream does nothing for you. Instead, you try to cheer yourself up by getting your comfort foods from the grocery store. A pint of your favorite ice cream and snacks always made you feel much better.

With your food in hand, you walk home with a small smile on your face, having completely forgotten about your roommates. When you arrive back to the apartment, you see that the moving truck that was previously there when you left, is now gone. With that knowledge, you take the elevator up to your floor. You take the time in the elevator to begin snacking, but stop yourself so you can enjoy the rest in the comfort of your own home.

However, as you glance at your new neighbor’s door, you know you’d have to wait a little longer to eat your food. You felt bad for simply storming off earlier and not even waving to the new people on your floor. With a heavy sigh you find yourself walking to their door to formally introduce yourself.

3 knocks to the door and it’s swinging open. A young man stands before you, giving you a mildly perplexed look. Right off the bat you know you’re doomed. Your roommates were right about your new neighbors (or at least one of them) being handsome. If he looks this good, what do others look like?

“Hello? Can I help you?” his voice snaps you out of it.

“Oh...yeah, um, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m your neighbor,” you stick out your hand for him to shake and tell him your name. The young man looks down at your hand and back up at your face before taking your hand in his and shaking it twice. His hand lingers in yours before you pull yours away.

“You can call me Haechan,” he gives you a flashy grin. You return his smile, thinking that maybe you were wrong to judge your neighbor before even meeting him.

“I live across from you,” You point to the door on the other side of the elevator landing space, “I’m pretty sure you met my two other roommates earlier.”

“Oh yeah, you ignored them and left them hanging. Kind of a dick move, in my honest opinion,” he leans against his doorframe, crossing his arms and a smug expression on his face. Your jaw drops at his statement.

So you weren’t entirely wrong. What a little shit.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but in my defense, they were dicks to me right before that and I wasn’t in the mood to pretend like I was happy,” you cross your arms as well. Haechan laughs and shakes his head.

“I guess that’s fair. My roommates can be dicks too sometimes so I understand,” he shrugs. “Do you want to meet them as well?”

“Um…” you trail off, unsure if you wanted to introduce yourself to the others at the moment.

“Come on, they won’t bite,” Haechan winks at you. Something about the delivery of his comment makes your cheeks heat up, but you decide to just go for it.

“Okay,” you say, and before you know it, Haechan is tugging you into his apartment, shutting the door behind you.

Once inside, you look around and find boxes everywhere. Some of them were open, some of them were still sealed; of course since they were unpacking. There was a blue sofa in the middle of the room, two other males sitting on it and unpacking boxes. One was in the kitchen, also unpacking, you assumed.

“Hey, we have a guest!” Haechan announces, and suddenly there were 4 pairs of eyes on you. One of the guys on the couch stands up and walks over to you. He takes your hand in his and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jaemin,” he smiles at you and it takes everything in you not to laugh, so instead you send him a tight-lipped smile. You quickly deduce he was the flirty type, and that you’d probably endure a lot more of his flirting if you were to hang out with these guys often.

“Hey, knock it off you weirdo, you’re gonna scare her,” the one from the kitchen walks over and offers his hand for you to shake. You quickly shake it, afraid he might do the same thing as Jaemin.

“I’m Renjun, and don’t worry, I won’t kiss your hand. Some of us are normal, I promise,” he shoots a glare at Jaemin, who rolls his eyes in response. You softly laugh at Renjun and then your eyes move over to the last one, who is still sitting on the couch.

“Oh, I’m Jeno. It’s nice to meet you! Sorry I can’t get up right now, I sprained my ankle earlier today while moving our stuff in,” He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Aw I’m sorry about your ankle, I hope it gets better!” you offer your condolences. Jeno smiles and nods in gratitude.

“And your name?” Jaemin asks. You casually provide your name for the 3 other boys to hear and they nod.

“Truly a pleasure to meet you,” Jaemin beams at you.

“Would you like to stay for awhile?” Haechan suddenly asks from beside you.

“Oh...I appreciate the offer, but you guys look like you’re busy unpacking. Plus I was hoping to spend some quality time with...my...ice cream,” You hold up the food in it’s plastic bag.

“Ah don’t worry about us unpacking, I mean you can help too,” Haechan says, and Renjun smacks his arm then shoots him a disapproving look. You nervously chuckle and shift on your feet.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re free to go. It was delightful to meet you and your roommates, it’s nice to know we have some friends our age here,” Renjun tells you and you nod.

“It was delightful meeting you all too. I don’t know what my roommates told you, but if you have any questions about the building or something, you can always ask us,” you tell them while opening their front door.

“Thanks! Much appreciated!” Jeno waves goodbye to you. You wave to the four boys as you exit the apartment.

Just as you begin to close the door, Haechan slips out right after you.

“Hey, wait,” he calls out and you turn around to face the boy.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You give him a small smile in return.

“Give me a good reason not to be,” you tell him before you turn back to your apartment.

Haechan stares at you as you unlock your door and disappear into your own apartment, unsure of what to make of your remark. As he walks back to his own place, a smirk on his lips, he thinks of all the ways to make sure you stick around.

“Be careful what you ask for…”

↣

After Haechan’s first encounter with you, he finds any way possible to see you more. He makes it his mission to give you plenty of good reasons for you not to be a stranger (technically, per your request).

The first incident is more...accidental. If anything, he would have to blame the mail delivery person for this.

As Haechan arrives at the apartment building from his last class of the day, he decides to check his mailbox for his unit. He quickly gathers the envelopes and advertisement cards that were stuffed into his mailbox and locks it, then walks toward the elevator while sifting through it to see if there’s anything for him.

The only problem is that he doesn’t see his name...or any of his roommates’ names. He sees yours and your roommates’ names. He sighs in slight frustration at how incompetent the mail delivery person had to be to mix up his mail with yours but then a lightbulb goes off in his head. You need your mail...so he’s going to have to give it to you...which means…

When the elevator reaches your floor, Haechan makes an immediate beeline for your door. He knocks a few times before you swing the door open, confusion written in your features as you take in Haechan leaned up against your door frame.

“Donghyuck.”

Haechan’s--or Donghyuck’s--smug expression fades instantly at the use of his legal name.

“H-how did you--?”

“It was on your mail, which somehow ended up in my mailbox,” you cross your arms as you give him a suspicious glare.

“I didn’t do anything, I got your mail too,” he holds up your mail to your face and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh,” you quickly take your mail from Haechan, “well thanks for getting my mail...Hyuck.” A smug smile paints your lips as you use his legal name again.

Haechan makes a disgruntled expression and sighs, “Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it’s cute and it’s, oh I don’t know...your actual name? Don’t worry, though, I’ll keep calling you Haechan,” You reassure him. Haechan gives you a suspicious glare and crosses his arms. He most definitely wasn’t expecting for you to be good at playing his game, which he thought that you didn’t know you were a part of.

“Can I just have my mail now?” He huffs, deciding to take a loss for this round.

“So impatient, geez,” you pick the stack of Haechan’s mail off your foyer table and hand it to him. Haechan takes his mail from you and is about to bid you adieu before he suddenly changes his mind on losing this round.

“Personally,” he begins, catching your attention from your mail, “I think you should use that Savage Fenty promo code. I’d love to see what you get.”

Your heart nearly stops in your chest as you look up in horror at Haechan’s shit-eating grin, knowing full well that he knocked you off your axis. You don’t even have a comeback, you just watch in silence as Haechan sends you a wink and leaves you standing in your doorway. He shouts a quick thank you before he enters his own apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe--” You hiss as you slam your door shut, your face incredibly hot from Haechan’s simple, yet flirty, remark. You knew he had to have skimmed through your mail, or he wouldn’t have shown up at your door to give it back. What you didn’t anticipate was that he’d use your mail against you.

“Were you just flirting with our neighbor?” You hear your roommate, Gaeun, behind you. You whip around to face her and scowl.

“No. He was flirting with me,” you inform her.

“You think he’s cute don’t you?”

“I do not!”

“Oh please, you’d be stupid to not think he’s cute. I cannot believe just a week ago you were so disinterested in our new neighbors and now you’re literally buddy-buddy with them, Haechan in particular,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever, you’re annoying,” you scoff.

“You totally like him, huh?”

“Shut up no I don’t!”

“Alright, alright, fine. I have a hard time believing it, but okay,” Gaeun shrugs.

A comfortable silence fills the space between you and Gaeun before she pipes up again.

“I’m just saying if you end up sleeping with him, I won’t be surprised.”

“GAEUN!”

↣

A couple of days later, Haechan reminds you of his presence again.

You were doing homework in your living room when a frantic knocking on your front door unceremoniously interrupts you. You save your work and close your laptop before padding over to the door to see who is so rudely interrupting you from your studies.

Lo and behold, as you gaze through your peephole, you find Haechan standing on the other side. You sigh and reluctantly open the door, giving the boy an unamused glare.

“Thank God you’re home, I need your help,” Haechan exhales in relief. You raise your eyebrows at his distressed tone, unsure if something was wrong.

“Why, did something happen? Are you okay?” You ask him.

“Aw...you’re worried about me, how cute,” Haechan smiles at you, touched by your concern. You groan in annoyance and frown at him.

“No, I’m fine. Our kitchen, however is not; our sink is not draining properly and shit is coming up from the drain. I was wondering if you could give me the landlord’s email or number so we can call him to come fix it,” Haechan reveals. You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, thus confusing him.

“First of all, don’t call the landlord, he doesn’t know anything. Second of all, your sink is clogged, I’ll come fix it for you,” you tell him.

“What do you mean the landlord doesn’t know anything?” Haechan asks, put off by your comment.

“When I first moved in, our toilet had problems. So of course, I called the landlord to come fix it and he literally said he didn’t know what to do. Naturally, from that point, I learned how to fix everything since the landlord is useless,” you recount your story to Haechan. It’s at this point that Haechan starts second guessing his and his roommates’ decision to move into this apartment building.

“Are you sure--”

Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, just give me a second to get my tools.” You close the door and return promptly, holding a simple toolbox with enthusiasm. Haechan gives you a strange look, but decides to see this through. If it’s a chance to spend time with you, he’s taking it.

“Alright, let’s go fix your kitchen sink!” you grin and close your door behind you as you determinedly march across the hall to Haechan’s place.

When you arrive, you quickly figure out what’s wrong and get to work. You open the cabinet doors that lead to the pipes under the counter and begin going through your toolbox to get the appropriate tools to fix the sink.

“Do you want to see how to fix this so next time you can do it yourself?” you suggest. Haechan blinks down at you as he thinks about his answer. On the one hand, he wants to stand and supervise you from a distance (an excuse to basically ogle your bare legs because of the denim shorts you were wearing), but on the other hand, he can be closer to you if he joins you under the sink.

“Hyuck?” Your use of his nickname snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah I’ll watch you work on my pipes,” Haechan says without thinking. You deadpan at him, his unintended euphemism not going over your head.

“Really?” you raise a brow at him.

“What?”

“‘Work on your pipes?’ Do you think I’m stupid?” you scoff. It takes Haechan a second to realize what you mean before his jaw is dropping. The initial shock fades into cheekiness as he leans against the counter with a smirk.

“That’s not what I meant, but I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to work on that pipe,” he winks at you and you roll your eyes.

“I’m taking back my offer to teach you how to fix your sink,” you say before ducking your upper body under the sink. Haechan pushes himself from the counter and ducks under the sink with you, despite you rescinding your offer.

“No takesies backsies,” he settles in next to you. It’s slightly cramped, but you try to focus on anything other than his close proximity to you.

“Fine, just don’t say dumb shit like that again,” you say quietly while you begin the process of fixing Haechan’s sink.

“No promises,” Haechan grins and you laugh softly at his antics.

You show Haechan what’s wrong with his sink and how to repair it. He pays close attention to your instructions, finding them to be fairly simple. For the last half of the process, you come out from under the sink and show him the last few steps of unclogging the sink. When you believe you’ve restored the sink to its former glory, you test the garbage disposal and run the water, making sure everything is drained. Much to Haechan’s surprise, you effectively fixed his sink.

“Damn...thank you. It works perfectly now,” He says in relief.

“Anytime. I also just want to point out that the previous tenant had a LOT of cats, so that’s probably why all that hair was in your pipes. I don’t know why she would put it down the sink though, that’s gross,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and Haechan chuckles.

“Yeah well we don’t have any cats, so it won’t happen again,” He tells you with a small smile. You return the smile and quickly lean down to recover your tools so you can make a swift exit back to your apartment. Haechan can’t quite explain why he felt so attracted to you while you unclogged his sink and explained how to do so. All he knew was that it was quite an experience for him to watch you become a plumber in his presence.

“So were you paying attention to the plumbing lesson? Because I’m not about to purposely clog another sink to teach you again,” you ask as he walks you back to your apartment.

“I was too busy getting distracted by your beauty and missed like a good chunk of the lesson, to be honest,” he joked. You stare up at him, shocked by his audacity, but all he does is give you a cocky smile in return.

“You--you’re--fuck you,” you say as you quickly enter your apartment and shut the door in Haechan’s face, not wanting him to see you in your flustered state. He blinks at your door, bewildered at your reaction, but soon realizes it wasn’t negative in the slightest.

Haechan walks back to his apartment with pride and a puffed out chest.

↣

You’re thoroughly convinced that the universe wants to prove your roommates right and you wrong. This becomes apparent to you once again at the end of a shower, you turning your shower head off and reaching for your towel.

At first, you don’t hear it, but after turning off your speaker and wrapping your towel around your body, you step outside the bathroom and hear the blaring noise: the fire alarm.

“Fuck...nooooooo,” you whisper as you hang your head in defeat. You debate quickly going to your room and throwing on clothes, but you remember the fire drill rules of the building and reluctantly grab your keys, phone and slippers. You dash down a few flights of stairs to the lobby and exit promptly, heading over to the building meetup point where the other residents are, all while holding your towel close to your body.

When you arrive, you try to hide yourself from passersby by blending in with the other building residents. You’re in the clear, heaving out a sigh of relief...that is until you hear the devil’s voice from your right side.

“Well don’t you look pretty standing there in nothing but a bath towel. Mind if I sneak a peek?” Haechan croons as he saunters over to you with a cheeky smirk. You turn your head towards Haechan, greeting him with a displeased expression, only for him to send you a wink.

“Hi, Donghyuck,” you huff, and cross your arms, effectively keeping your towel wrapped around your body.

Haechan places his hand on his heart in fake hurt, “When you say my name like that, it hurts.”

“Oh really? How would you like me to say it then?” you roll your eyes. Haechan moves to stand behind you and leans down so his lips brush the shell of your ear and in the most nonchalant tone, he whispers:

“Loudly and with pleasure, baby.”

You can’t control the shivers that are sent down your spine at the pet name and Haechan looks down at you with pride at his work. You scowl at the fact that your body reacted to his teasing, but even more so that you don’t hate it as much as you’re letting on. You refuse to turn around because you know that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from either smiling at him or smacking him.

“Cat got your tongue, honey? Maybe you can put it to good use. Hm?” he pushes further and you can’t control yourself from whipping around and whacking his arm. The smile you’re so clearly fighting, though, tells him you’re not really mad at him.

“Shut up, you fucking dweeb, me being in a towel is not an invitation for you to hit on me nor is it a ploy to get you into bed,” you hiss at him and all he does is bite his lower lip softly and stick his hands in his front pockets.

“You’re the one who said not to give you a reason to remain strangers, and I always go the extra mile for people I consider…‘friends’,” he uses your past words against you. You gape in surprise at how cunning Haechan is and you wish you could slap the smug smile right off his face. You’re more mad at yourself for how his flirting is actually working and eliciting a reaction from you, especially a reaction from under your towel and between your legs. You can’t prove your roommates right, especially because you know they’d give you shit if they found out you actually did like Haechan.

“You’re insufferable,” you whisper just as the landlord announces that you’re allowed to come back into the building. You quickly stalk off toward the building, leaving Haechan alone to watch your retreating figure in admiration.

It’s only a matter of time before your resolve breaks...and he’s going to be there when it happens.

↣

You don’t see Haechan for another couple of days, which makes you a little more sad than you’d like to admit. You even go so far as to ask Renjun where Haechan was, mildly worried that Haechan was sick...or even lost interest in you. You swear Renjun to secrecy though, knowing that if Haechan finds out you asked about him, you’d never hear the end of it.

When you finally do see him, it’s on the elevator, on your way home from school. It’s silent as the elevator doors close the two of you into the space. After a few beats, haechan finally speaks.

“I hear you asked about me,” he says, fighting off a smirk. You sigh and make a mental note to kill Renjun the next time you see him.

“Yeah I hadn’t been annoyed in a few days so I just wanted to see why it was so quiet,” you roll your eyes and look over at Haechan to find that he’s already looking at you.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he shrugs nonchalantly and goes back to waiting for the elevator to arrive at your floor.

“So…?”

“So what?”

“Where were you?”

Haechan gives you a surprised look, but answers anyway, “I was studying for a midterm, snoopy. I have to keep my grades up you know.”

“Oh...well...I hope you pass,” you tell him, and a warm smile appears on his lips.

“I did. With flying colors. Thanks though,” he says back and before you can respond, the elevator dings and the doors open. Haechan files out first and you follow suit, reluctant to go back to your own apartment for some reason. No one is there, you know that for a fact. Before you take out your keys, you glance back at Haechan, who is standing motionless at his door, his back facing you.

“Haechan,” you call out, your lips moving before your brain can formulate thoughts. He turns back to you, wide-eyed and curious about why you said his name.

“Yeah?” He asks as he starts to inch closer to your end of the corridor.

“I…” you begin, but the rest of the words don’t come out. As Haechan gets closer, he can see your face more clearly, and the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. Being ever so impatient, he doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence and backs you up against your door, his lips (finally) feverishly connecting with yours.

Your eyes shut immediately as Haechan takes control and kisses you with hunger and desire. He places one hand on your waist and one hand caresses your cheek, not intending to let you go anywhere. He swipes his tongue on your lower lip and you allow him access almost immediately. You don’t know why you’re mildly surprised that Haechan is a phenomenal kisser, but that thought and any other lingering ones fade as his hands travel to your hips and grip them rather harshly. You gasp softly against his lips as he increases the pressure on your hips, and he takes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck, creating marks where his lips touch.

While Haechan concentrates on your neck, you quickly try to search your bag with only your sense of touch to find your keys to let the two of you in.

Haechan grabs them from you, breaking away from you for a split second to unlock and open the door. Once that is accomplished, he places his lips back on yours and ushers you into your apartment. His kissing gets more insistent and rough as he shuts the door behind him.

Articles of clothing trail behind the two of you as you advance to your room. By the time you arrive, the two of you are fighting for dominance through your making out. It gets so intense that you have to break away for air. The two of you stand chest to chest, half-naked and panting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks breathlessly. His hands rest on your hips and give them a light squeeze just for kicks. Your breath hitches in your throat and Haechan notices and smirks.

“I’m just...” you begin but Hyuck squeezes your hips again and you let out a small whimper.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he teases you.

“Shut up,” you pry his hands off your hips and push him back to your bed before straddling his thighs. “You’re not the only one who likes to be in charge, Hyuck.”

Haechan smirks from below you and hooks his fingers into the hem of your panties, pulling them down slowly.

“Oh sweetheart,” he pauses when he has taken your panties completely off, “don’t you know I can still have control from under you?”

“Huh?” you ask, but Haechan’s response is one of action. He slips his boxers down his legs, situates his cock in line with your entrance and pulls you down on him until he’s buried to the hilt. You both let out harmonious moans simultaneously, the stretch of his cock oh-so-satisfying and the wet warmth of your pussy giving him goosebumps. While you were mildly disgruntled you didn’t get to see his cock first, you felt like it was unnecessary at this point considering you could feel his size from inside your pussy.

“Fuck you‘re so wet, I knew you wanted to fuck me,” he hisses.

“How the hell...are you…?” You begin.

“This big? Why, don’t think you can handle it?” Haechan smugly asks.

“Just...fucking move, Hyuck,” you grunt, “or I will.”

“Baby’s so desperate for my cock she won’t wait for me to fuck her? What, you’re gonna fuck yourself on my cock?” Haechan teases you, but you take it as a challenge and promptly begin riding him.

“You...asked for it,” you smirk at him.

“Fuck...you feel so good,” Haechan praises you and you beam at him. You lean down and begin pressing open mouthed kisses along his neck, kisses which soon turn into hickeys. Haechan has to admit that it feels good to be treated like this. Like a king.

“Who’s in charge now, brat?” You whisper in his ear and Haechan’s gaze darkens. He brings his hands back to your hips and grips them so you stop in place.

“I am,” he responds before roughly thrusting up into you, “it’s my game, I always win.”

Haechan pistons his hips against yours and moan after moan spills from your lips. Every yelp of his name, mixed in with swears and incomprehensible sounds, pushes Haechan to go harder.

“Shit, Hyuck, I’m...I’m so close,” you mewl and grip his shoulders to steady yourself. Under normal circumstances, Haechan would edge you to no end, but he’s been waiting for this since the moment you told him that you didn’t want to be strangers. He was going to be self-indulgent just this once.

Haechan’s thrusting gets sloppier as you both get close to your highs. Finally you come undone around his cock, your walls hugging him so tight, it makes it harder for him to keep going. Haechan takes an immeasurable amount of self control to not cum inside of you (especially since he got ahead of himself and forgot to slip on a condom). After a couple more thrusts, he pulls you off of him and cums across his own stomach, chest heaving as he comes down from his high. You take a dollop of his cum on your finger and suck it off, making eye contact with him just to taunt him further.

“Get on my face,” he commands.

“What?”

“Get on, sit on, I don't care just get up here,” he grabs your thighs. At your lack of action, he pulls you up so your core is hovering above his lips.

“Hyuck, I don’t think I can take—Oh my fuck,” your plea is cut short by Haechan’s lips wrapping around your clit and sucking harshly on it.

Haechan is not done proving who is in charge—and that he’s perfectly capable of fucking you from beneath you—and decides to have a feast to treat himself.

His tongue expertly navigates your pussy, switching between tongue fucking your entrance and stimulating your clit. All you can hear are lewd slurping sounds and your cries of pleasure. Haechan hums into your clit and the vibrations send electricity throughout your body.

“Hyuck...Hyuck do that again please,” you beg him while lightly tugging his hair. Haechan surprisingly complies, but instead of simply humming, he lightly growls into your pussy, the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. It isn’t until Haechan gives your clit one harsh suck that you’re coming onto his face. He quickly slurps up your release before working on your pussy again.

He puts you through two more orgasms before he’s pushing you off of his face and onto your bed. He crosses his arms behind his head in satisfaction before he glances over at you. Your legs are still trembling and your eyes are closed in an attempt to regain your composure and breath.

“I’ll let you catch your breath before the next round,” he tells you and you open your eyes to give him a playful glare.

“Who said we were going multiple rounds?”

“Fine, I’ll go then.”

“No, wait!”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

↣

“Okay just be really quiet, I’m sure they’re home now and I cannot have them seeing you here.”

“I can’t believe you’re sneaking me out of your apartment, this is not high school, why can’t I just walk out of here?”

“Because then my roommates will be right and I don’t want them to clown me for giving into you.”

“You say that like sleeping with me was a bad thing,” Haechan raises an eyebrow as you escort him quietly to your front door.

“It wasn’t, but when you guys first moved in, I may have made a big deal of being uninterested in you and they like to prove me wrong. Just work with me here,” you explain.

“Oh how the tables turn. I’m sure you wouldn’t want them to know how eager you were for my—” Haechan begins but you place your hand on his face to shush him.

“I wouldn’t, so shut up,” you tell him as you make it to your front door.

“It’s gonna be a little harder for you to sneak me out when we do this again, y’know,” Haechan tells you while you open the door.

“Again? Why do you say that with so much certainty?” You ask him with a mischievous smile.

“Because I know it’s gonna happen again, please,” he scoffs and you softly laugh. Haechan smiles at the sound of your laugh and hopes that the next time he does come back, he gets to know you a little more before you sleep with each other again.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” you cross your arms with a shy smile, “now go home.”

“Until next time,” Haechan leans down and places a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning toward his door across the hall. You close the door as Haechan goes into his apartment and lean against the door, processing what just happened.

Haechan was right: you were going to need to be more sneaky the next time he was over.

#nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee haechan smut #haechan au

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