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bratzkoo · 17 days ago

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blueprint of us | minghao

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: rich af! minghao x architect! reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-15 Word count: 14k~ Warnings/note: enemies to lovers minghao kinda that i've been thinking about for weeks! i need this.

summary: you really thought minghao is just your usual old money prioritizing getting richer over the environment, not with his background and whatever he does, well, until you didn’t.

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Y/N straightened her blazer, mentally rehearsing counter-arguments to every possible criticism as she strode into the Seoul Metropolitan Government conference room. At twenty-eight, she'd earned her reputation as one of the city's most uncompromising sustainable architects through sheer determination and technical brilliance. The Hangang Riverfront Revitalization Project was exactly the kind of high-profile commission her firm needed—and she wasn't about to let anyone derail her vision of creating the most environmentally innovative public space in Asia.

She scanned the room, noting the familiar faces of committee members and developers, before her gaze locked onto an unfamiliar figure. Xu Minghao of XM Development stood near the windows, examining the site maps with intense focus. She'd never met him personally, but his reputation preceded him—artistic, enigmatic, and ruthlessly effective at getting his designs approved. His buildings were architectural marvels that graced magazine covers and won international awards while consuming unconscionable amounts of energy with their glass facades and dramatic lighting.

As if sensing her scrutiny, Minghao looked up. Their eyes met across the room in a moment of instant recognition—not of each other personally, but of what each represented. A subtle tension charged the air between them.

Joshua Hong, the city's cultural development officer, approached with his characteristic diplomatic smile. "Y/N! I see you've noticed Minghao. Let me introduce you properly before presentations begin."

She followed Joshua, maintaining perfect professional composure as they approached Minghao, who straightened to his full height, his expression coolly appraising.

"Xu Minghao, this is Y/N, principal architect at Green Path Architecture. Y/N, Minghao is the creative director at XM Development."

"Your Dongdaemun Plaza extension was featured in Architectural Review last month," Y/N said, extending her hand. It wasn't a compliment—merely an acknowledgment of fact—but she could acknowledge quality work even from the opposition.

Minghao's handshake was firm, his gaze direct. "And your critique of it in Sustainable Design Quarterly was quite... thorough." There was a hint of something in his voice—not quite anger, more like curiosity.

Y/N didn't flinch. "I stand by every word."

"I would expect nothing less." A ghost of a smile touched his lips, surprising her. "It was one of the more intelligent critiques I've read. Most critics don't understand the structural constraints we were working with."

Before Y/N could respond to this unexpected comment, they were called to take their seats.

Throughout her presentation, Y/N was acutely aware of Minghao's attention. Unlike other developers who checked phones or whispered to colleagues during technical explanations, he observed with complete focus, occasionally making notes. His scrutiny was unnerving—she found herself emphasizing certain points more forcefully, as if in direct challenge to his design philosophy.

When Minghao presented his concept, Y/N reluctantly found herself impressed by his eloquence and vision. Where her presentation had been data-driven and practical, his was almost poetic—speaking of architecture as cultural storytelling, of spaces that evolved with seasonal light, of connections between traditional Korean design principles and contemporary human needs.

"A truly sustainable space," he concluded, his voice quiet but carrying through the silent room, "must sustain not just environmental metrics, but the human soul. It must create memories, inspire creativity, and connect people to something larger than themselves."

It was beautiful rhetoric that conveniently sidestepped concrete sustainability commitments, Y/N thought critically. Yet she couldn't deny the power of his vision or the masterful renderings that accompanied it.

When the committee's decision came, delivered by Joshua, it landed like a thunderbolt.

"Both proposals contain essential elements the committee feels are necessary for this project's success. Rather than choosing between them, we're asking Y/N and Minghao to collaborate on a unified design—combining Green Path's environmental innovation with XM's cultural and aesthetic vision."

Y/N's expression remained professionally neutral while her mind raced through implications. A collaboration? With him? Their approaches weren't just different—they were fundamentally opposed.

Across the room, she saw Minghao's composed mask slip momentarily, revealing a flash of the same dismay she felt. Their eyes met again, mutual wariness transformed into shared predicament.

After the meeting adjourned, Minghao approached her with measured steps. "It seems we have a situation," he said, his voice low.

"That's one way of putting it," Y/N replied evenly. "I have serious concerns about reconciling our approaches."

"As do I," he admitted, surprising her with his candor. "But the commission is significant. Perhaps we can establish ground rules to make this... functional."

They agreed to meet the following day at a neutral location to establish their working parameters, both clearly determined to protect their core principles while finding some way to fulfill the committee's requirements.

The café they chose was halfway between their respective offices—a small, quiet place with good lighting and minimal distractions. Y/N arrived ten minutes early, selecting a corner table and arranging her materials precisely. Minghao arrived exactly on time, dressed in simple black that somehow looked both casual and impeccable.

"I reviewed your full proposal last night," he said without preamble as he took the seat across from her. "Your technical solutions are innovative, but they fail to consider the aesthetic impact."

Y/N set down her coffee cup with deliberate care. "And I reviewed yours. Your spatial concepts are impressive but environmentally irresponsible. Your projected energy consumption is triple what it should be for a public project of this scale."

"Those calculations don't account for the passive cooling systems integrated into the design."

"Even with those systems, the glass expanses you've proposed create unnecessary thermal management challenges."

They continued this technical sparring for nearly an hour, each demonstrating a surprisingly thorough understanding of the other's specialty. Y/N had expected Minghao to dismiss environmental concerns entirely but found instead that he comprehended them well—he simply prioritized differently. Similarly, Minghao seemed taken aback by her knowledge of architectural theory and cultural references.

"You've studied Korean traditional architecture," he noted when she referenced historical precedents for natural ventilation.

"You sound surprised."

"Most sustainability specialists I've worked with focus exclusively on contemporary technology."

"That would be shortsighted," Y/N replied. "Traditional builders solved climate challenges without modern energy sources. There's much to learn from them."

A thoughtful expression crossed Minghao's face. "On that, at least, we agree."

This small point of alignment felt like a minor breakthrough. They tentatively established a working schedule and division of responsibilities, each carefully guarding their core elements while identifying areas where compromise might be possible.

As they gathered their materials to leave, Minghao hesitated. "I should clarify something. I'm not opposed to sustainability. I simply believe it must include cultural and aesthetic sustainability alongside environmental concerns."

Y/N studied him, trying to determine if this was merely diplomatic posturing. "And I'm not opposed to beauty. I just believe it shouldn't come at the expense of future generations."

Minghao nodded once, accepting this. "Then perhaps this collaboration isn't impossible after all."

"I didn't say that," Y/N countered with hint of a challenging smile. "I said it wasn't entirely impossible."

Something flickered in Minghao's eyes—surprise, followed by what might have been respect. "Until tomorrow, then."

Their working relationship developed into a pattern of intense intellectual debate punctuated by rare moments of unexpected alignment. They established a temporary studio in a small gallery space Joshua arranged for them—neutral territory that became the battleground for their competing visions.

Each morning began civilly enough, reviewing progress and outlining objectives. By afternoon, they were invariably locked in philosophical combat over fundamental aspects of the design. Y/N found these debates simultaneously frustrating and stimulating—Minghao challenged her assumptions with perspectives she'd never considered, forcing her to articulate her values with greater precision.

"You speak of environmental responsibility as if it exists in isolation from human experience," Minghao argued during a particularly heated discussion. "But people protect what they love. Create a space they don't connect with emotionally, and it will be neglected or demolished within a generation, regardless of its ecological merits."

"And you speak of human experience as if it can be separated from environmental context," Y/N fired back. "The most beautiful space becomes meaningless if the air is unbreathable or the temperature unbearable. Ask the residents of coastal cities losing ground to rising sea levels how much they're enjoying the 'human experience' of architectural masterpieces that contributed to climate change."

Mingyu, Minghao's assistant, had learned to make himself scarce during these exchanges, quietly leaving coffee and returning hours later when the conceptual storm had passed.

What surprised Y/N most was not Minghao's stubborn defense of his vision—she'd expected that—but his work ethic. He matched her legendary stamina hour for hour, sometimes staying past midnight to perfect details or research technical questions that arose during their debates. One evening, she returned from a quick dinner break to find him surrounded by books on wetland ecosystems, cross-referencing her water management proposals against ecological studies.

"I wanted to understand the biological implications better," he explained simply, not looking up.

Another night, Minghao found Y/N studying the historical design references in his original concept. When he raised an eyebrow in question, she merely said, "If I'm going to argue against aspects of your design, I should at least understand its cultural context properly."

These moments of mutual professional respect existed alongside their fundamental disagreements, creating a complex working relationship neither had anticipated.

Three weeks into their collaboration, they reached an impasse over the central plaza. Y/N's design prioritized permeable surfaces and rainwater capture, while Minghao's emphasized traditional patterns and ceremonial pathways. Neither would yield, their respective heels dug in after days of circular arguments.

"This isn't productive," Minghao finally said, running a hand through his hair in a rare display of frustration. "We're approaching this from incompatible premises."

"Then we need to change the premises," Y/N replied, surprising herself with the suggestion. "We're still thinking of our designs as separate entities being forced together, not as a new integrated concept."

Minghao looked at her thoughtfully. "What are you suggesting?"

"Let's visit the site. Together. Not to argue our positions, but to observe. Maybe there's something we're both missing."

The next morning dawned clear and cool as they met at the riverfront. By unspoken agreement, they walked in silence, observing how light played across the water, how people naturally gathered in certain spaces, how the existing landscape created patterns of movement.

An hour passed before either spoke. They had stopped at a particular bend in the river, watching an elderly man feeding birds while a group of students sketched nearby.

"There's a rhythm to how people use this space," Minghao said quietly. "Different but harmonious patterns overlapping."

Y/N nodded. "And natural cycles intersecting with human ones. The tide, the seasonal plants, the daily movement of sun and shadow."

They spent the entire day at the site, gradually beginning to exchange observations, then ideas, their usual combative dynamic softened by the physical reality of the place itself. As sunset painted the river gold, Y/N found herself sketching alongside Minghao on a park bench, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they worked.

"What if," Minghao said suddenly, looking up from his drawing, "the water management systems became visible features that change with the seasons? Not hidden infrastructure, but celebrated elements that tell an environmental story while creating evolving beauty."

Y/N stared at him, momentarily speechless at how perfectly this bridged their divided approaches. "That... could actually work." She quickly sketched an adaptation of her technical systems that incorporated his aesthetic principles. "The filtration gardens could become these sculptural elements that transform with rainfall patterns."

"Yes," Minghao leaned closer to see her drawing, his usual reserve giving way to genuine enthusiasm. "And these ceremonial pathways I proposed—they could be constructed with your permeable materials, creating traditional patterns that also serve ecological functions."

They worked with growing excitement, building on each other's ideas in a creative flow unlike anything their previous combative approach had produced. When darkness finally forced them to pack up their materials, both were reluctant to break the productive spell.

Walking back toward the subway station, Y/N glanced at Minghao's profile, softened in the evening light.

"I still think you're wrong about the glass pavilions," she said, but there was no edge to her voice now.

"And I still think your maintenance projections are unrealistic," he replied with the ghost of a smile.

"But today was... not entirely unproductive."

"A diplomatic assessment," Minghao agreed. After a pause, he added more seriously, "You're not what I expected, Y/N."

"Oh? And what did you expect?"

"Someone less willing to consider alternative perspectives. Less... formidable in defending her vision."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I could say the same about you. I expected a developer focused exclusively on aesthetics and profit, not someone who would spend hours researching ecosystem impacts."

They parted at the station with a new sense of possibility, though neither would admit how significantly their perception of the other had shifted. Y/N found herself thinking about Minghao's unexpected depth as she rode home—his quiet intensity, his surprising knowledge across disciplines, the rare moments when his composed exterior gave way to genuine passion for architecture.

It was professionally inconvenient, she decided, to discover that your philosophical opponent was actually worthy of respect. Even more inconvenient to realize you were beginning to look forward to the intellectual challenge he presented each day. Most inconvenient of all was catching herself wondering what else might lie beneath his carefully controlled surface—and why that possibility intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

The breakthrough at the riverfront changed something fundamental in Y/N and Minghao's working relationship. Though they still disagreed—often vehemently—about specific elements, a grudging respect had formed between them. Their temporary studio space gradually transformed, walls covered with evolving sketches that showed a slow but unmistakable merging of their distinct approaches.

Y/N arrived early one morning, a week after their site visit, to find Minghao already there. He sat with his back to the door, so absorbed in his work that he hadn't heard her enter. She paused, taking the rare opportunity to observe him unguarded. His movements were precise as he sketched, occasionally pausing to reference her technical specifications before continuing. The morning light caught the edges of his profile, and Y/N was struck by the intensity of his focus—the same quality she prided in herself.

"You've adapted the rainwater system," she said, finally announcing her presence.

Minghao turned, not startled but transitioning smoothly from solitary concentration to acknowledgment of her arrival. "I had some thoughts about integrating it more fully with the traditional elements."

Y/N set down her materials and moved closer to examine his work. The technical system she'd designed remained intact in its function but had been transformed visually into something that echoed historical Korean water features while remaining distinctly contemporary.

"This actually improves the water flow," she admitted, studying the modifications. "The aesthetic changes create a more efficient path for heavy rainfall."

"Form following function," Minghao said with the slight upturn of lips that passed for his smile. "Or perhaps function following form. Does it matter which comes first if the result serves both?"

Y/N gave him a measured look. "It matters in the process. But I'll concede the outcome is... promising."

They settled into work, the morning passing in focused collaboration punctuated by their usual debates—though the tone had shifted from combative to challenging, each pushing the other toward more refined solutions.

Around noon, the studio door opened to reveal Seungkwan from Y/N's firm, carrying several bags of takeout.

"Lunch delivery!" he announced with characteristic enthusiasm. "Y/N, the office is buzzing about your collaboration. Everyone's wondering if you've strangled the famous Xu Minghao yet or if he's converted you to the dark side of luxury development." He stopped abruptly, seeming to realize Minghao was present. "Oh! I mean—that is—good afternoon, Mr. Xu!"

Y/N suppressed a smile at Seungkwan's flustered backpedaling. "Minghao, this is Seungkwan from my PR department."

"We've met briefly," Minghao said with a gracious nod. "At the initial presentation."

"Right! Yes! I was very impressed with your cultural integration concepts," Seungkwan babbled, setting down the food and backing toward the door. "I'll just leave this here and let you both get back to your... creative tension. Or harmony! Whatever you're creating!"

After Seungkwan's hasty departure, Y/N shook her head. "Sorry about that. He's brilliant at public relations but subtle isn't in his vocabulary."

"He cares about you," Minghao observed, arranging the food containers. "Your firm seems more like a family than a corporation."

"We're small but dedicated. Everyone believes in what we're doing." Y/N accepted the container he handed her. "What about XM? From what I've read, it's quite hierarchical."

Something flickered across Minghao's face—so brief Y/N almost missed it. "Traditional corporate structure, yes. Efficiency has its advantages."

"But?"

Minghao looked up, surprised by her perception. "What makes you think there's a 'but'?"

"Your expression. Just for a second."

He considered her for a moment before responding. "The traditional structure has advantages for executing projects efficiently. It has... limitations for innovation. Particularly regarding sustainability initiatives."

This was the most personal insight he'd offered about his professional situation. Y/N sensed something significant beneath his measured words.

"You're advocating for change within XM?"

"Let's say I have a longer-term vision that doesn't always align with quarterly profit expectations." Minghao's tone made it clear he considered this topic closed.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before returning to safer territory—the technical challenges of their current design integration. But Y/N filed away this glimpse beneath Minghao's professional exterior, another piece in the increasingly complex puzzle he presented.

Later that week, Y/N sat in her apartment surrounded by crumpled sketches, trying desperately to focus on refining the public garden layout for their project. Instead, she found herself repeatedly drawing Minghao's profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the thoughtful tilt of his head when considering a design problem.

"This isn't happening," she muttered, furiously erasing the latest inadvertent portrait. "This is Stockholm syndrome. Professional delirium. Sleep deprivation psychosis."

She crumpled the paper and tossed it toward the trash can, missing by a good foot. The floor was already littered with similar failures—evidence of her complete inability to focus without her thoughts drifting to a certain frustratingly elegant architect with stupidly perfect cheekbones and infuriatingly thoughtful design insights.

When her phone rang, Y/N nearly leapt for it, grateful for any distraction. Seeing Seungkwan's name on the screen was an added relief—at least it wasn't Minghao calling about work, which would mean having to sound professional while in the midst of this embarrassing crisis.

"Please tell me you're free for dinner," Seungkwan said without preamble. "We're all at the usual place, and Woozi is three beers in, talking about writing a concept album about sustainable architecture. You need to witness this."

Y/N stared at her disaster of an apartment—takeout containers from three consecutive nights of working late with Minghao, sketches everywhere, and a half-empty bottle of wine that wasn't helping her current crisis at all.

"I'll be there in thirty," she replied, grateful for the escape.

The hole-in-the-wall restaurant was already lively when Y/N arrived, sliding into a booth next to Jeonghan and across from Seungkwan and Woozi.

"The workaholic emerges!" Seungkwan announced dramatically. "How's life with the enemy?"

"He's not the enemy," Y/N answered automatically, then froze at her own defensive tone.

Three pairs of eyes locked onto her with laser focus.

"Well, well, well," Jeonghan drawled, sliding the soju bottle towards her. "That's new."

"What?" Y/N poured herself a generous shot. "He's a collaborator now. Professionally. On the project. That's all."

"Right," Woozi nodded sagely. "Totally professional. Which is why you just drew hearts around his name on that napkin."

Y/N looked down in horror, only to find a blank napkin. When she looked up, Woozi was smirking.

"Your face right now is all the confirmation we needed," he said.

"I hate all of you," Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. "It's not—I don't—UGH."

"Oh my god, she actually likes him," Seungkwan stage-whispered, eyes wide with delight. "Our Y/N has fallen for Corporate Architecture Ken!"

"I have NOT fallen for him," Y/N hissed, looking around to make sure no one from the industry was nearby. "I just... don't completely despise working with him anymore. He has... occasional good ideas."

"Occasional good ideas," Jeonghan repeated flatly. "Is that what we're calling it when you haven't stopped talking about 'Minghao's innovative approach to spatial harmony' for three weeks?"

"Or when you defended his honor to that sustainability consultant who called his previous projects 'ecological disasters'?" Woozi added.

"Or when you started wearing your nice blazers to the collaborative studio instead of your usual 'comfort over corporate' outfits?" Seungkwan chimed in.

Y/N looked between them, betrayal written across her face. "I just wanted to project professionalism!"

"Since when have you cared about looking professional?" Jeonghan laughed. "Your entire brand is 'too busy saving the planet to care about dress codes.'"

Y/N downed her soju in one shot, the harsh reality hitting harder than the alcohol. "This is a disaster. If—and I mean IF—I were developing... unprofessional feelings, which I'm NOT admitting to... it would be career suicide. Personal suicide. A complete betrayal of everything I stand for."

"Dramatic much?" Woozi raised an eyebrow.

"He works for XM Development!" Y/N whispered furiously. "They literally built that resort that destroyed an entire coral reef ecosystem! I protested outside their headquarters! I wrote a scathing industry article about their CEO!"

"Who happens to be his uncle," Seungkwan pointed out unhelpfully. "Awkward future family dinners."

Y/N dropped her head onto the table with a thunk. "This isn't happening. I refuse. I absolutely refuse to be attracted to Xu Minghao. He probably irons his socks. He definitely owns more black turtlenecks than Steve Jobs ever did. His idea of sustainable materials is 'slightly less endangered tropical hardwood.' This is a cosmic joke."

"But he's so pretty," Seungkwan sighed dreamily. "Those cheekbones could cut glass."

"And he did publicly challenge his board about sustainability initiatives," Jeonghan reminded her. "That article was everywhere in the industry. He put his reputation on the line."

"Not helping," Y/N mumbled into the table.

"Look," Woozi said, suddenly serious. "You've spent your entire career fighting against developers who don't care about environmental impact. Now you've found one who might actually be an ally—who gets your vision enough to fight for it within his own corporate structure. What's the real problem?"

Y/N lifted her head, expression pained. "The problem is I wanted to hate him. I was prepared to hate him. Hating him was simple and comfortable and fit my worldview perfectly. But now..." She gestured helplessly.

"Now you like him," Seungkwan finished for her. "Like, LIKE him like him."

"And I hate that I like him," Y/N groaned. "It's so inconvenient. So cliché. So... ugh."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Jeonghan said with philosophical air.

"Well, my heart needs to shut up and get back to focusing on sustainable architecture instead of Minghao's stupid perfect hands and the way he tilts his head when he's really considering an idea and how he remembers exactly how I like my coffee and—" Y/N cut herself off, horrified.

The table erupted in delighted chaos.

"This is the greatest day of my life," Seungkwan declared, wiping away a fake tear. "Our ice queen has melted for the prince of luxury development."

"I'm leaving," Y/N announced, grabbing her bag. "I'm moving to a remote island where there are no architects, no colleagues, and definitely no irritatingly perceptive friends."

As she stood to leave, Woozi called after her: "Just remember to invite us to the wedding! I've already started composing your processional!"

The wadded-up napkin Y/N threw hit him squarely between the eyes.

Meanwhile, across the city, Minghao sat perfectly still in his apartment's minimalist living room, staring at the scale model he'd been working on for the past three hours. It was meant to be a section of their riverfront design. Somehow, he'd unconsciously incorporated elements that were distinctly Y/N's—the curved rainwater channels, the integrated vegetation patterns, the community-focused gathering spaces.

"This is unacceptable," he murmured to himself, setting down his tools with deliberate precision.

He'd spent years cultivating perfect control—over his designs, his career trajectory, his emotions. Three weeks working with Y/N had somehow dismantled that control with terrifying efficiency.

His phone rang. Jun.

"Please tell me you're not still working," his friend said when Minghao answered. "It's Friday night. We're at Mingyu's place. Even Wonwoo left the office."

"I'm not working," Minghao replied, staring at the evidence that he'd been thinking about Y/N rather than actual work. "Just... reviewing some concepts."

"All work and no play makes Minghao a dull boy," Jun sing-songed. "Come over. Mingyu made his famous hotpot, and Vernon brought that weird board game where you have to build fictional cities."

The prospect of architecture-themed entertainment was the last thing Minghao needed right now, but the alternative was sitting alone in his apartment, fighting the unprofessional urge to text Y/N about a design idea that had occurred to him in the shower.

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Mingyu's apartment was chaos compared to Minghao's serene space—warm, cluttered, and currently filled with his closest friends sprawled across various furniture. The delicious scent of hotpot filled the air, and someone had put on a jazz playlist that mingled with conversations and laughter.

"He emerges from his creative cave!" Jun announced as Minghao entered. "We were taking bets on whether you'd actually show up or send another 'something came up' text."

"I'm not that antisocial," Minghao protested mildly, accepting the drink Mingyu handed him.

"No, you're just that obsessed with perfection," Wonwoo corrected from his position on the couch, not looking up from his book. "How's the collaboration going with the eco-warrior princess?"

Minghao nearly choked on his drink. "Her name is Y/N, and the project is progressing adequately."

"Adequately?" Jun repeated with a grin. "That's not what Mingyu said after he dropped off those materials yesterday. What was it again, Mingyu? Something about 'intense creative energy' and 'finishing each other's sentences'?"

Mingyu had the decency to look apologetic as he stirred the hotpot. "I just mentioned that you two seemed to be working well together. Better than expected, considering how you used to talk about her environmental manifestos."

"We've found professional common ground," Minghao said carefully, taking a seat at the dining table. "Her technical knowledge is impressive, and she's more open to aesthetic considerations than I initially assumed."

"Wow, from Minghao, that's practically a declaration of love," Vernon commented, looking up from where he was setting up the board game.

"It's professional respect," Minghao clarified firmly.

"Is that why you've saved every industry article she's ever written?" Wonwoo asked, finally closing his book. "For professional respect?"

Minghao shot him a betrayed look. "Those are research materials. Know your opponent's perspective."

"And is that why you specially ordered her favorite tea for the studio? And stayed up all night researching wetland ecosystems to understand her water management system better? And hand-crafted that traditional pavilion model that took you three days?" Jun pressed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Those were... professional courtesies," Minghao insisted, feeling uncomfortably warm. "The project benefits from a harmonious working relationship."

"Harmonious," Mingyu repeated with a knowing smile. "Interesting word choice."

"You guys are reading too much into this," Minghao said, helping himself to food in an attempt to end the conversation. "We're collaborating on a project with strict deadlines. That's all."

The room fell silent for a moment before Jun spoke again, his tone gentler. "You know, it wouldn't be the end of the world if you did like her."

"She represents everything I'm supposed to be working against," Minghao said quietly. "She's idealistic to the point of impracticality, stubborn about her principles, and has publicly criticized XM's projects multiple times."

"And yet..." Vernon prompted.

"And yet," Minghao admitted reluctantly, "she's brilliant. Her technical innovations are genuinely revolutionary. She sees connections in systems that most designers miss. And she cares about the impact of her work in a way that's..." he searched for the right word, "...admirable."

"Just admirable?" Wonwoo asked, eyebrow raised.

Minghao set down his chopsticks, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain his usual composure. "Fine. You want the truth? I can't stop thinking about her. I find myself sketching elements I know she'll appreciate into designs she'll never even see. I've started questioning corporate policies I've accepted for years because her arguments make compelling sense. I wake up thinking about our debates and go to sleep solving design problems we discussed."

He ran a hand through his hair in a rare display of frustration. "It's completely inappropriate, utterly unprofessional, and would horrify my uncle and the entire board if they knew. She probably still thinks I'm a corporate sellout despite everything, and the project will end in three weeks, after which we'll go back to being professional adversaries. So yes, maybe I do find her more than just professionally admirable, but it doesn't matter because nothing could ever come of it."

The room was silent for a long moment.

"Wow," Mingyu finally said. "That's the most words I've heard you speak consecutively in... possibly ever."

"She must be really special," Vernon added thoughtfully.

"This is a disaster," Minghao sighed, his perfect posture finally slumping. "Of all the architects in Seoul, why did it have to be her? The one person guaranteed to find my family's business morally reprehensible? The one designer who would consider my aesthetic priorities superficial? The most stubborn, principled, frustratingly intelligent woman I've ever met?"

"The heart is mysterious," Jun said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "And apparently has terrible timing."

"The heart has nothing to do with this," Minghao insisted. "This is temporary insanity brought on by extended proximity and creative intensity."

"Right," Wonwoo nodded sagely. "That explains why you've started dressing even more impeccably than usual for your studio sessions. And why you've been turning down family dinner invitations to work late with her. And why you risked your position at XM to champion sustainability initiatives that align with her values."

Minghao stared at him. "How do you know all that?"

"I pay attention," Wonwoo shrugged. "And Mingyu talks a lot."

"Traitor," Minghao muttered, glancing at Mingyu, who was suddenly very interested in the hotpot.

The following day, Y/N arrived at the studio determined to maintain strict professional boundaries. She'd spent half the night lecturing herself about the absolute insanity of developing feelings for Xu Minghao, of all people. She had a plan: minimal personal conversation, focused work discussion, and absolutely no noticing of his perfect cheekbones or elegant hands or the way his eyes lit up when discussing traditional Korean architecture.

Her resolve lasted approximately three minutes.

Minghao was already there, arranging a collection of material samples on their work table. He looked up when she entered, and something in his expression seemed different—a flicker of self-consciousness that mirrored her own.

"Good morning," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I brought coffee." He gestured to a cup on her side of the table. "Black with one sugar."

The fact that he remembered exactly how she took her coffee was not helping her resolution at all.

"Thank you," she managed, setting down her bag and picking up the cup to give her hands something to do. "I was thinking about the central plaza transition areas overnight. I have some ideas for improving the flow."

Minghao nodded, seemingly grateful for the immediate focus on work. "I was considering the same issue. The current design creates a bottleneck during peak usage times."

They fell into their usual pattern of collaborative problem-solving, but something had shifted in the atmosphere. Y/N found herself hyperaware of every accidental brush of hands when they reached for the same reference material, every moment their eyes met when making a point, every instance of inadvertent synchronization when they both had the same idea simultaneously.

Judging by Minghao's slightly stiffer-than-usual posture and occasional hesitations before physical proximity, he might be experiencing similar awareness. The thought was both terrifying and oddly exhilarating.

By afternoon, the awkwardness had somewhat dissipated as they became absorbed in a particularly challenging aspect of the water feature design. Their usual dynamic reasserted itself—Y/N focusing on technical efficiency, Minghao on experiential quality, both pushing the other toward a more integrated solution.

"If we adjust the flow pattern here," Y/N suggested, leaning over the model they'd constructed, "we can increase capture capacity while creating more interesting visual movement."

Minghao considered this, head tilted in the exact way that Y/N had embarrassingly confessed to finding attractive just the night before. She forced herself to focus on the model instead of his profile.

"That could work," he agreed, reaching for a pencil to sketch the modification. Their fingers brushed briefly, causing both to withdraw a fraction too quickly.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously, then looked at each other in surprise.

A moment of silence stretched between them, charged with something neither was prepared to acknowledge.

"We should take a break," Minghao finally said, straightening up. "We've been working for hours."

Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Good idea. I need some air."

They stepped outside into the late afternoon sun, walking silently to a small park across from their studio building. Finding a bench, they sat with a careful distance between them, watching office workers hurry past on their way home.

"The project is progressing well," Minghao observed after a while. "Better than I expected when we were first assigned to collaborate."

"Agreed," Y/N said. "It's become something neither of us would have created independently."

"That's the value of diverse perspectives," Minghao replied. "When integrated thoughtfully rather than forced together superficially."

Something about his phrasing made Y/N wonder if he was talking about more than just their architectural collaboration. Before she could analyze this further, her phone chimed with a news alert.

"Oh," she said, reading the notification. "There's an article about you. About XM's sustainability initiative."

Minghao tensed visibly. "Already? The board meeting was just yesterday."

"You didn't know this was being published?" Y/N asked, scanning the article. "'XM Development Creative Director Challenges Board on Sustainability Direction.'"

"No," Minghao replied, his usual composure slipping. "Someone leaked it. This complicates things."

"In what way?"

He hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. "My uncle—the chairman—is deeply traditional in his business approach. He believes our brand is built on luxury and exclusivity, not environmental considerations. I've been trying to shift the corporate direction gradually, presenting sustainability as market advantage rather than moral imperative. A public leak makes it appear I'm forcing his hand through media pressure."

"Are you?" Y/N asked directly.

"No," Minghao said, meeting her eyes. "I would prefer to change the company from within, through demonstrating that sustainable design can be both beautiful and profitable. Our project is meant to be evidence of that possibility."

Y/N studied him, seeing the complexity of his position more clearly than before. "You're navigating a difficult path between family expectations and your own values."

"As we all must in different ways," he replied quietly. After a pause, he added, "Working with you has... clarified certain priorities for me."

The admission hung in the air between them, neither quite ready to explore its full implications. Instead, they watched the sun begin its descent, casting long shadows across the park.

"We should get back to work," Y/N finally said, standing. "The committee presentation is in two weeks."

Minghao nodded, following her lead. As they walked back toward the studio, he asked unexpectedly, "Would you join me for dinner tomorrow evening? There's a restaurant I think you might appreciate—they source all ingredients locally and power their kitchen entirely with renewable energy."

Y/N nearly stumbled in surprise. "That sounds suspiciously like something I would approve of," she said, attempting to keep her tone light despite her suddenly racing pulse.

"I do occasionally pay attention to your preferences," Minghao replied, a rare hint of humor in his voice.

"Then yes," Y/N agreed, telling herself this was still professional courtesy, nothing more. "I'd like that."

As they returned to work, Y/N tried not to think about Seungkwan's inevitable reaction when he heard she was having dinner with Minghao, or how much time she would likely spend tonight overthinking what to wear, or how the prospect of spending an evening with Minghao outside their work environment filled her with both anticipation and alarm.

This was fine. Perfectly normal. Just two collaborating professionals having a business dinner. The fact that her heart raced slightly at the thought was irrelevant and absolutely not worth examining.

Across the table, Minghao appeared to have regained his usual composed focus, though Y/N thought she detected a new tension in his movements, a heightened awareness that mirrored her own. If he was experiencing even a fraction of the confusing emotions currently churning through her, he was hiding it far better than she was.

Y/N forced her attention back to their design, trying to ignore how thoroughly Xu Minghao had disrupted her carefully ordered world—personally and professionally. The most infuriating part wasn't that she was attracted to him despite their differences.

It was that she was attracted to him because of them.

Y/N stood in front of her closet, surrounded by discarded outfits, feeling ridiculous. It was just dinner. A professional dinner with a colleague. The fact that she'd tried on seven different combinations was completely unrelated to the fact that said colleague was Xu Minghao.

"This is pathetic," she told her reflection as she adjusted a simple black dress. "Too formal." She changed into jeans and a nice blouse. "Too casual." A tailored pantsuit followed. "Too business meeting."

After thirty more minutes of wardrobe crisis, she settled on a dress that balanced professional and elegant—something she might wear to an industry event rather than a date. Because this was definitely not a date. Minghao had simply suggested they discuss their project in a different setting. The fact that he'd chosen a sustainability-focused restaurant was merely... thoughtful professional courtesy.

Her phone buzzed with a text from

Seungkwan: "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING??? Send pics!!! I need to approve!!!"

Y/N groaned. She'd made the tactical error of mentioning her dinner with Minghao during a work call, and Seungkwan had practically hyperventilated with excitement. She ignored the text, knowing any response would only encourage him.

Seconds later, her phone rang.

"You can't ignore me on this historic occasion," Seungkwan declared when she answered. "Our Y/N, sustainability warrior princess, dining with the prince of luxury development! The office has a betting pool on whether you'll come back engaged or covered in wine after throwing it in his face."

"It's a professional dinner," Y/N insisted, checking her watch. "And I'm going to be late if I don't leave now."

"Just tell me one thing," Seungkwan said, his tone suddenly serious. "Are you going to give this a chance? Whatever 'this' is between you two?"

The unexpected question caught Y/N off guard. "I... don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," Seungkwan replied gently. "I've known you for years, Y/N. I've seen you passionate about projects, about environmental causes, about fighting corporate developers. I've never seen you like this about a person."

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, suddenly unable to maintain her denial. "It's complicated, Seungkwan. Even if there were... feelings... which I'm not saying there are... there are so many reasons it couldn't work."

"Name one that doesn't involve your stubborn pride or preconceived notions."

She opened her mouth to list the many practical obstacles, then closed it again, realizing how many of her objections had gradually eroded over the weeks of working with Minghao.

"Just be open to possibility," Seungkwan suggested. "That's all I'm saying. And text me immediately if anything romantic happens!"

"Goodbye, Seungkwan," Y/N said firmly, ending the call. But his words lingered as she gathered her things and headed out.

The restaurant was intimate but not overtly romantic—a renovated traditional building with contemporary sustainable elements seamlessly integrated throughout. When Y/N arrived, Minghao was already there, dressed in his usual impeccable style but with subtle differences that suggested he'd put thought into his appearance beyond his normal care.

"This place is beautiful," Y/N said as they were seated at a corner table with a view of a small courtyard garden. "I haven't been here before."

"It opened recently," Minghao replied. "The owner is an old friend who shares your commitment to sustainability. The building itself is carbon-neutral, and all ingredients are sourced within fifty kilometers."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You really did your research."

A flicker of something crossed Minghao's face—was that actually nervousness? "I wanted to choose somewhere you'd appreciate."

The thoughtfulness of this gesture was not helping Y/N maintain her professional distance at all.

After ordering, an awkward silence fell between them—so different from their usual passionate debates or focused work discussions. It was as if removing the shield of their project had left them both uncomfortably exposed.

"So," Y/N finally said, "how did your uncle react to the article about your sustainability initiative?"

Minghao's expression tightened slightly. "About as well as expected. There was a... heated discussion about company direction and my role within it. He believes I'm being influenced by outside perspectives."

"Am I the outside influence he's concerned about?" Y/N asked directly.

"Among others," Minghao admitted. "But my interest in sustainable design predates our collaboration, though working with you has... intensified certain convictions."

"Is your position at risk?" The thought bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

Minghao considered this question carefully. "Not immediately. Family dynamics complicate professional relationships. My uncle values loyalty and tradition, but he also recognizes that markets evolve. The question is whether sustainability represents a fundamental shift in our company identity or merely a strategic adaptation."

"And what do you believe?"

"I believe it's necessary," he said simply. "Both ethically and practically. The future of development must incorporate environmental responsibility—not as marketing strategy but as core principle."

Y/N studied him, struck by how similar his words were to arguments she'd made in industry publications. "That sounds suspiciously like something I would say."

A hint of a smile touched his lips. "Perhaps you've been a bad influence."

"Or a good one, depending on perspective," Y/N countered, returning his smile.

The arrival of their first course provided a welcome shift in conversation to lighter topics. Y/N was surprised by how easily they moved from professional discussions to personal interests—Minghao's background in traditional art, Y/N's early environmental activism, shared admiration for certain architects and mutual disdain for pretentious industry trends.

"I can't believe you also hated the Hansen Tower," Y/N said, laughing at Minghao's devastatingly accurate critique of a recently celebrated building. "Everyone acts like it's revolutionary, but it's just inefficient design hiding behind flashy facades."

"Form without function," Minghao agreed. "Beautiful from a distance but completely impractical to actually occupy. Architecture should serve people, not merely impress them."

"Another suspiciously Y/N-like statement," she observed, enjoying the unexpected alignment of their views.

"I've always held this perspective," Minghao clarified. "But working with you has helped me articulate certain principles more clearly."

As their meal continued, Y/N found herself increasingly aware of how much she was enjoying Minghao's company. His quiet intensity, thoughtful observations, and unexpected flashes of dry humor were dangerously appealing. The careful distance she'd maintained began to feel increasingly arbitrary.

When dessert arrived—a beautifully presented seasonal fruit creation—Minghao hesitated before speaking. "I've been considering a possibility that I wanted to discuss with you."

Something in his tone made Y/N's pulse quicken. "What kind of possibility?"

"A professional one," he clarified, seeming to sense her sudden tension. "I've been contemplating establishing an independent design studio focused on integrating sustainable innovation with cultural and aesthetic excellence. The kind of work we've been doing together, but as a dedicated practice rather than a one-time collaboration."

"You're leaving XM?" Y/N couldn't hide her surprise.

"It's one option I'm considering," Minghao said carefully. "Family expectations are powerful, but at some point, personal convictions must take precedence." After a pause, he added, "I would value your perspective on whether such a venture could succeed."

"I think it could," Y/N said slowly, processing the implications. "But it would be a significant risk compared to your position at XM."

"Some risks are necessary for meaningful change." His gaze met hers with unexpected directness. "Both professionally and personally."

The weight of his words hung between them, carrying implications beyond career choices. Y/N found herself at a crossroads—continue maintaining careful professional boundaries or acknowledge the growing connection between them.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed with an urgent message. Y/N glanced at it and frowned.

"Everything alright?" Minghao asked.

"It's from Seungkwan. Apparently there's been a leak about our project—some industry blog has published speculation about conflicts between our design approaches, claiming the collaboration is failing."

Minghao's expression darkened. "That could undermine the committee's confidence before our presentation."

"We should address this," Y/N said, professional concerns immediately overriding the personal moment. "Perhaps with a joint statement or preliminary images that demonstrate our progress."

"Agreed." Minghao signaled for the check. "We should return to the studio and review what might have been leaked and prepare a response."

The intimate atmosphere dissolved as they shifted back into work mode, both perhaps secretly relieved to postpone the more complicated conversation that had been developing.

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the studio early, determined to focus on damage control rather than dwelling on the unresolved tension from dinner. To her surprise, she found Mingyu pacing outside the door.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "Thank goodness. Minghao sent me to wait for you. There's an emergency meeting at XM headquarters. The chairman is demanding to review the project immediately instead of waiting for the committee presentation."

"What? Why?" Y/N asked, alarmed by the sudden interference.

"The leaked information created concern about the project's direction," Mingyu explained as they hurried toward a waiting car. "Minghao's uncle is worried about the company's reputation if the collaboration is perceived as compromising XM's luxury brand identity."

During the drive to XM's imposing glass headquarters, Y/N felt mounting dread. This was exactly the corporate interference she'd initially feared when forced to collaborate with a luxury developer.

The building itself embodied everything Y/N had spent her career criticizing—excessive glass that created massive heating and cooling demands, dramatic but energy-intensive lighting, and materials selected for prestige rather than sustainability. As they rode the elevator to the executive floor, Y/N steeled herself for confrontation.

Mingyu led her to a conference room where Minghao was already engaged in tense conversation with an older man whose commanding presence and family resemblance identified him as the chairman. Several board members and executives observed from around a massive table covered with printouts of their design.

Minghao looked up when Y/N entered, his expression carefully controlled but his eyes communicating a silent apology.

"Ah, the environmental architect," the chairman said, turning to assess Y/N with calculating eyes. "I've heard much about you. Please, join us. We were just discussing certain... concerns about the direction of this project."

Y/N approached with professional composure, noting the specific design elements that had been highlighted for criticism—precisely the innovative integrations she and Minghao had been most proud of developing together.

"Chairman Xu," she acknowledged with a respectful nod. "I understand you have questions about our collaborative approach."

"Indeed," he replied coolly. "XM Development has built its reputation on distinctive luxury experiences. These elements," he gestured to their sustainable water management systems and community-focused spaces, "dilute our brand identity with features that could appear in any public park. Our clients expect exclusivity."

Y/N felt a familiar surge of frustration but maintained her professional demeanor. "With respect, Chairman, this project is specifically designed as a public space that balances environmental responsibility with exceptional design quality. The integration creates something unique rather than diluted."

The chairman's expression remained skeptical. "A noble sentiment, but our investors have specific expectations about XM projects. Minghao knows this," he added with a pointed look at his nephew.

"Uncle," Minghao said, his voice quiet but firm, "the committee specifically requested a collaboration that incorporates both companies' strengths. The design we've developed fulfills that brief while expanding XM's capabilities in an emerging market sector."

"A sector you seem increasingly preoccupied with," the chairman observed. "First your sustainability initiative presentation, now this project. One might wonder where your priorities lie."

The undercurrent of personal disappointment in his tone made the professional criticism more cutting. Y/N saw Minghao's carefully maintained composure falter slightly, revealing how deeply his uncle's approval mattered despite their differing visions.

"My priority is the future success of XM," Minghao replied. "Which requires evolution rather than rigid adherence to past formulas."

The chairman waved this away impatiently. "We need concrete adjustments to realign this project with our brand standards. I suggest removing these community elements, upgrading the materials to our usual specifications, and redesigning the central pavilion to feature our signature aesthetic."

Y/N bit her tongue, recognizing that these changes would effectively erase every sustainable innovation they'd integrated, returning the design to exactly the kind of environmentally irresponsible luxury project she'd fought against throughout her career.

She glanced at Minghao, expecting him to begin negotiating a compromise. To her surprise, he straightened his shoulders and spoke with quiet determination.

"No."

The single word fell into stunned silence. Even Y/N hadn't expected such direct refusal.

"What did you say?" the chairman asked, his tone dangerous.

"I said no," Minghao repeated calmly. "The design represents a balanced integration developed through genuine collaboration. Removing those elements would compromise both its integrity and its purpose."

The chairman's expression hardened. "Perhaps you've forgotten whose name is on this building, Minghao. Your experimental design theories are interesting, but ultimately, XM projects reflect the company vision—my vision."

"I haven't forgotten," Minghao replied. "But I also remember the principles my father valued before you took control—innovation, integrity, and creating spaces that elevated people rather than excluding them."

The personal nature of this statement clearly crossed a line. The chairman's expression turned glacial. "We'll continue this discussion privately. Everyone else, please leave us."

The executives quickly filed out, eager to escape the family tension. Y/N hesitated, looking at Minghao with concern.

"It's alright," he told her quietly. "I'll meet you downstairs after we've finished."

Y/N reluctantly left the room, acutely aware that Minghao had just risked his position—and family relationship—defending their shared vision. The implications of this were too significant to ignore.

An hour passed before Minghao appeared in the lobby, his expression composed but with a new resolution in his eyes.

"Walk with me," he said simply, leading her out of the building and across the street to a small park—one of the few green spaces in the corporate district.

They sat on a bench beneath flowering cherry trees, a moment of natural beauty incongruously peaceful after the tension of the meeting.

"I've been relieved of my position as creative director," Minghao said finally, his voice calm despite the bombshell.

Y/N stared at him in shock. "They fired you? Over our project?"

"The project was simply the catalyst. My uncle and I have been moving in different directions for some time. Today merely forced the issue into the open."

"Minghao, I'm so sorry," Y/N said, genuine distress overriding any professional considerations. "You shouldn't have sacrificed your position. We could have modified some elements, found a compromise—"

"No," he interrupted gently. "The compromise would have destroyed what makes the design valuable. And this isn't just about one project. It's about the future I want to create versus the past my uncle wants to preserve."

"Still, your career—"

"Is not defined by XM," Minghao finished. "Perhaps this was inevitable. I've been considering independent paths for some time, as I mentioned last night."

Y/N studied him, searching for signs of regret or uncertainty. Instead, she found surprising calm—as if a burden had been lifted rather than imposed.

"You seem... okay with this," she observed.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "There's freedom in clarity. For years I've tried to balance family expectations with personal convictions. Now the choice has been made for me."

"What will you do now?"

"Exactly what I suggested yesterday—establish an independent practice based on the principles we've explored together." After a pause, he added more softly, "Though I had hoped to discuss that possibility with you under different circumstances."

Y/N felt a flutter of something that definitely wasn't just professional concern. "With me? In what capacity?"

Minghao turned to face her directly, his usual reserve giving way to unexpected openness. "In whatever capacity you might consider. As a consultant, a collaborator, or..." he hesitated, then continued with quiet determination, "...something more. If that's something you might want."

The directness of this semi-confession left Y/N momentarily speechless. Part of her wanted to retreat behind professional boundaries, to remind both of them of all the reasons personal involvement would be complicated. But after watching Minghao sacrifice his position defending principles they both valued, such caution suddenly seemed cowardly.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted honestly. "Three months ago, I would have said collaborating with an XM developer was my worst nightmare. Now I'm sitting here disturbed by the fact that you're no longer with XM, which makes absolutely no sense considering I've spent years criticizing everything they represent."

"Life rarely follows our expectations," Minghao observed, a hint of humor warming his voice.

"Tell me about it," Y/N sighed. "My entire worldview had such clear lines before meeting you. Sustainable architects: good. Luxury developers: bad. Now everything's complicated."

"Complexity can be valuable," Minghao suggested. "In design and in relationships."

Y/N looked at him—really looked at the person rather than the professional role he'd occupied. The man who had challenged her assumptions while respecting her principles. Who had matched her passion for architecture with his own, differently expressed but equally genuine. Whose carefully maintained reserve concealed depths she'd only begun to discover.

"I think," she said carefully, "that I would like to explore what 'something more' might mean. But slowly. This is all very... new territory."

The smile that transformed Minghao's usually composed features was worth every moment of confusion that had preceded it.

"New territory is where innovation happens," he said softly.

Their conversation was interrupted by Y/N's phone ringing insistently. She glanced at it and groaned.

"It's Seungkwan. Again. He's probably heard about the XM meeting already—news travels unnervingly fast in this industry."

"You should answer," Minghao suggested. "He'll just keep calling otherwise."

Y/N reluctantly accepted the call, holding the phone slightly away from her ear in anticipation of Seungkwan's volume.

"Y/N! IS IT TRUE?" Seungkwan practically shouted. "DID MINGHAO JUST QUIT XM DEVELOPMENT TO BE WITH YOU? THE ENTIRE OFFICE IS LOSING THEIR MINDS! WOOZI JUST SPAT COFFEE ALL OVER HIS KEYBOARD!"

"That's not exactly—" Y/N began, feeling her face heat up as Minghao raised an amused eyebrow, clearly able to hear Seungkwan's voice.

"IT'S THE MOST ROMANTIC THING I'VE EVER HEARD!" Seungkwan continued, undeterred. "GIVING UP A FAMILY EMPIRE FOR LOVE! IT'S LIKE A DRAMA BUT WITH SUSTAINABLE ARCHITECTURE!"

"Seungkwan, please," Y/N attempted, mortified. "It's much more complicated than that. He had professional disagreements with the company direction—"

"BECAUSE OF YOU!" Seungkwan crowed triumphantly. "BECAUSE YOU SHOWED HIM THE LIGHT OF ECO-CONSCIOUS DESIGN WITH YOUR PASSION AND PRINCIPLES! I'M WRITING THE WEDDING SPEECH RIGHT NOW!"

"There is no wedding!" Y/N hissed, avoiding Minghao's gaze. "We haven't even—that is—we're just—"

"Just what?" Seungkwan pressed, finally lowering his volume to merely enthusiastic rather than deafening.

Y/N glanced at Minghao, who was watching her with undisguised amusement and something warmer that made her pulse quicken.

"We're figuring it out," she said finally.

"HA! I KNEW IT!" Seungkwan's volume instantly returned to maximum. "JEONGHAN OWES ME DINNER! I SAID YOU'D ADMIT FEELINGS BEFORE THE PROJECT ENDED!"

"I'm hanging up now," Y/N informed him, doing exactly that despite his protests.

She turned to Minghao with embarrassment. "Sorry about that. Seungkwan has no concept of indoor voice or professional boundaries."

"He cares about you," Minghao observed, echoing his comment from weeks earlier. "Though his enthusiasm is... considerable."

"Wait until you meet the rest of them properly," Y/N said, then paused as she realized the implication of future social integration. "I mean, if that's something that might happen. Eventually."

"I'd like that," Minghao said simply.

They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence for a moment, the cherry blossoms occasionally drifting down around them in the spring breeze.

"So what happens now?" Y/N finally asked. "With the project, with the committee presentation, with... everything?"

"The project continues," Minghao said decisively. "My departure from XM doesn't change my commitment to our design. As for the rest..." he looked at her with quiet intensity, "that depends on what we both want to build."

The architectural metaphor wasn't lost on Y/N. "I've never been good at personal blueprints," she admitted. "Professional plans, environmental strategies, technical specifications—those I can draft perfectly. But this..."

"Perhaps we approach it like our design process," Minghao suggested. "Start with core principles, develop the framework gradually, adjust as we learn, and trust that something valuable will emerge from the collaboration."

Y/N couldn't help smiling at his architect's approach to relationship development. "That's the most Minghao way possible of asking someone to date you."

"Is it working?" he asked, a rare vulnerability visible beneath his composed exterior.

Instead of answering immediately, Y/N reached for his hand—a simple gesture that somehow felt more significant than their entire professional collaboration.

"I think," she said carefully, "that I'd like to see what we might design together. Beyond riverfront projects and sustainable pavilions."

Minghao's fingers interlaced with hers, his touch as precise and intentional as everything else about him. "I've found our collaborative process surprisingly rewarding so far."

"Despite the arguments?"

"Because of them, in part," he amended. "Few people challenge me the way you do. It's... invigorating."

Y/N laughed. "Only you would find someone questioning your every design decision 'invigorating.'"

"Only when the questions are intelligent ones," he clarified, his thumb tracing a small pattern against her palm. "And when they come from someone whose perspective I've grown to value."

The simple honesty of this statement affected Y/N more than any grand declaration could have. She looked at their joined hands—her practical manicure next to his artist's fingers—and thought about how unexpected and yet somehow right this felt.

"So we continue with the committee presentation," she said, bringing the conversation back to safer territory while she processed her emotions. "And afterward..."

"Afterward, we explore possibilities," Minghao finished. "Professional and personal."

"Seungkwan is going to be insufferable about this," Y/N groaned, but couldn't suppress her smile.

"As will Jun," Minghao admitted. "He's been making increasingly unsubtle comments about our 'creative chemistry' for weeks."

The thought of their respective friends' reactions to this development was both mortifying and amusing. Y/N could already imagine the dramatic speeches, the knowing looks, the inevitable "I told you so" declarations.

"We should get back to the studio," she said reluctantly. "We have a presentation to finalize, and now we need to address your change in professional status as well."

Minghao nodded, but neither moved immediately to leave the peaceful moment they'd created together.

"Just to be clear," Y/N said, feeling uncharacteristically uncertain, "you're really okay with what happened at XM? You didn't throw away your career because of our project?"

"I didn't throw away anything," Minghao replied with quiet certainty. "I chose authenticity over compromise. The project was simply the catalyst for a decision that's been forming for longer than you might realize." After a pause, he added, "Though I will admit that knowing you has clarified certain priorities."

Y/N felt a rush of warmth at his words. "That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, and it wasn't even really a compliment."

"It was absolutely a compliment," Minghao corrected her. "Just expressed with appropriate restraint."

Y/N laughed, struck by how much she enjoyed his particular brand of reserved intensity. "You know, for two people who started out thinking we represented everything wrong with each other's approach to architecture, we've come to a surprisingly compatible place."

"Perhaps we weren't as opposed as we believed," Minghao suggested. "Just viewing the same principles from different angles."

As they finally rose to leave, still holding hands as they walked back toward their studio, Y/N reflected on the unexpected journey that had brought them to this point. From professional adversaries to reluctant collaborators to... whatever they were becoming now. It wasn't a path she could have designed or anticipated.

But sometimes, she was beginning to realize, the most interesting spaces emerged from unexpected intersections—in architecture and in life.

The committee presentation room buzzed with anticipation. Two weeks had passed since Minghao's departure from XM Development—two weeks of intense preparation, industry speculation, and carefully navigated new personal territory between him and Y/N.

"Are you ready for this?" Y/N asked, adjusting the display boards one final time. She wore her most professional outfit, a structured suit in deep green that somehow managed to be both authoritative and a personal statement.

"Absolutely," Minghao replied, his calm demeanor betraying none of the professional upheaval he'd experienced. If anything, he seemed more centered than before, as if shedding his corporate constraints had allowed a more authentic self to emerge.

Word of their situation had spread throughout the industry—the XM creative director who'd left his family's company over creative differences, continuing to collaborate with the sustainable architect who'd presumably influenced his professional rebellion. The resulting publicity had transformed their presentation from a standard committee review into a highly anticipated industry event.

Joshua Hong approached them with an encouraging smile. "Quite the turnout today," he observed, nodding toward the unusually full room. "Your project has generated significant interest."

"Apparently professional drama is good for publicity," Y/N said dryly.

"Quality work is good for publicity," Joshua corrected. "The circumstances simply brought additional attention to what was already an innovative collaboration."

As committee members and industry observers took their seats, Y/N felt a flutter of nerves—not about the design itself, which she knew was exceptional, but about the public perception of her relationship with Minghao. They'd agreed to maintain strictly professional behavior during the presentation, focusing attention on their work rather than the personal connection that had developed alongside it.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Seungkwan: "We're all here! Third row, looking FABULOUS and ready to cheer inappropriately loud!!!"

Y/N glanced over to see Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and Woozi seated together, all giving her enthusiastic thumbs up. Behind them sat Jun, Mingyu, and Wonwoo—Minghao's support team. The sight of their merged friend groups was both heartwarming and mildly terrifying.

"Your colleagues are here," she murmured to Minghao. "And mine. Together. This could be interesting."

"Should we be concerned?" Minghao asked, following her gaze to where Seungkwan was now showing something on his phone to Jun, both of them grinning conspiratorially.

"Definitely," Y/N confirmed.

Before she could elaborate, Joshua called the presentation to order. Y/N took a deep breath, centering herself in the familiar territory of professional expertise as she stepped forward to begin.

"The Hangang Riverfront Revitalization Project presented unique challenges and opportunities," she began, her voice clear and confident. "Our goal was to create a space that serves environmental needs, community functions, and cultural expression in equal measure."

As she outlined the technical aspects of their design, Y/N found herself naturally transitioning to Minghao's contributions without the planned handoff cues they'd rehearsed. Their presentation flowed organically between her explanations of sustainability innovations and his descriptions of spatial experience and cultural references.

The committee watched with undisguised interest as these former adversaries demonstrated a seamless collaborative vision. When they revealed the final design models and renderings, a murmur of appreciation spread through the room.

Their central concept—visible environmental systems integrated with traditional Korean design elements to create both functional efficiency and cultural resonance—was beautifully realized in the detailed models. Water features that processed rainwater while referencing historical irrigation patterns. Community gardens arranged to create contemplative spaces reminiscent of traditional courtyards. Solar elements that cast evolving shadow patterns inspired by traditional architecture.

During the question period, a committee member asked directly about the impact of Minghao's separation from XM Development on the project's viability.

"My professional transition doesn't affect my commitment to this design," Minghao answered with perfect composure. "The concept we've developed represents principles I intend to pursue in my independent practice."

"And how do you respond to industry speculation that personal factors influenced these professional decisions?" the committee member pressed, glancing between Minghao and Y/N with poorly disguised curiosity.

Y/N tensed, but Minghao responded with characteristic grace.

"Professional respect can develop into broader appreciation," he said carefully. "Y/N's environmental expertise and design integrity challenged me to reconsider certain assumptions. That kind of intellectual growth naturally influences career decisions."

It was the perfect answer—acknowledging their connection without feeding gossip or distracting from the work itself. Y/N shot him a grateful look as the questions returned to technical aspects of the design.

When the presentation concluded, the committee announced they would deliberate and provide their decision within the week. As the crowd dispersed, Y/N and Minghao found themselves surrounded by their enthusiastic friends.

"That was AMAZING!" Seungkwan declared, hugging Y/N before she could evade him. "You two have, like, actual presentation chemistry! It was like watching an architectural tango!"

"Please never say 'architectural tango' again," Y/N begged, though she couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm.

"Your integration of the water systems was particularly elegant," Wonwoo told her, adjusting his glasses. "I appreciated the technical rigor behind the aesthetic elements."

"And your cultural references were so thoughtfully applied," Jeonghan said to Minghao. "Not superficial at all."

As their friends chatted excitedly about various aspects of the presentation, Y/N noticed the easy way their previously separate groups had merged—Mingyu and Seungkwan comparing notes on their respective roles, Jun and Jeonghan clearly bonding over some shared mischievous energy, Wonwoo and Woozi engaged in what appeared to be a deeply technical conversation about acoustic design elements.

"They get along well," Minghao observed quietly, coming to stand beside her.

"Surprisingly well," Y/N agreed. "Though I'm not sure the world is ready for Seungkwan and Jun joining forces."

"Too late," Minghao noted, nodding toward where the two were clearly plotting something, occasional glances in their direction confirming that Y/N and Minghao were the subject of whatever scheme they were developing.

"We should probably be concerned about that," Y/N said.

"Definitely," Minghao agreed, echoing her earlier assessment.

Before they could investigate further, Joshua approached with news.

"The committee was impressed," he told them. "Very impressed. They've asked me to inform you that deliberations may be abbreviated—they're leaning strongly toward full approval with minimal revisions."

"That's wonderful news," Y/N said, relief and pride washing through her. After everything they'd been through, the validation of their shared vision meant more than she'd expected.

"There's something else," Joshua continued. "The city planning department was so taken with your integrated approach that they're considering a larger initiative—a series of sustainable urban interventions throughout Seoul, using your river project as a prototype. They'd be interested in discussing this with both of you, regardless of which firm ultimately leads the river project construction."

Y/N exchanged a look with Minghao, both processing the implications of this unexpected opportunity.

"We'd be very interested in those discussions," Minghao replied, his calm words belying the significance of Joshua's news.

After Joshua departed, Seungkwan appeared with an announcement of his own. "Attention, architectural power couple and assorted friends! We've arranged a celebration at The Garden Terrace. No excuses, attendance mandatory, first round on Jeonghan because he lost the betting pool about when you two would finally get together!"

"We haven't officially—" Y/N began, but Seungkwan waved away her objection.

"Semantics! You're holding hands right now!"

Y/N looked down in surprise to find that, indeed, her hand had somehow found Minghao's during their conversation with Joshua. She hadn't even noticed.

"The evidence is undeniable," Jun declared solemnly. "Subconscious hand-holding indicates advanced relationship development."

"That's not a real thing," Minghao told his friend with fond exasperation.

"And yet," Jun gestured meaningfully at their joined hands, "empirical evidence suggests otherwise."

Rather than pulling away in embarrassment as she might have weeks earlier, Y/N simply adjusted her grip on Minghao's hand more comfortably. "Fine. We'll come to your celebration. But no embarrassing toasts or relationship interrogations."

"We make no such promises," Seungkwan replied cheerfully. "See you all there in thirty minutes!"

The Garden Terrace was exactly the kind of place Y/N and Minghao might have designed together—a rooftop restaurant with traditional elements reimagined through contemporary sustainable design. Living walls provided natural cooling, solar canopies created dappled light patterns across wooden floors, and the careful arrangement of spaces allowed both community interaction and private conversation.

Their friends had reserved a corner section with spectacular views of the city at sunset. Y/N and Minghao found themselves at the center of a boisterous celebration, their successful presentation and potential new opportunities providing the official reason for festivities, though everyone present knew the unofficial cause for celebration was more personal.

"A toast!" Seungkwan announced, raising his glass. "To the most unlikely architectural partnership in Seoul—proof that opposites not only attract but create award-winning public spaces in the process!"

"And to new beginnings," Jeonghan added, with a meaningful look at Minghao. "Professional and otherwise."

Everyone raised their glasses, the genuine warmth of the moment overriding Y/N's usual aversion to being the center of attention. Under the table, Minghao's hand found hers again, a quiet connection amid the lively celebration.

As the evening progressed, Y/N found herself in conversation with Jun while Minghao was engaged in discussion with Woozi across the table.

"He's different with you," Jun observed, nodding toward Minghao. "More himself, somehow."

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, curious about this perspective from someone who'd known Minghao far longer than she had.

"Minghao has always contained himself," Jun explained. "Precise control in everything—his art, his work, his emotions. Necessary for navigating family expectations and corporate politics, but it became second nature. With you, he's still Minghao—still thoughtful and measured—but there's a freedom to it now. Less constraint, more authentic expression."

Y/N considered this, watching Minghao as he listened intently to Woozi's apparently passionate discourse on acoustic design. There was a subtle openness to his posture and expressions that did seem different from when they'd first met.

"I'm glad," she said simply. "He deserves that freedom."

"And what about you?" Jun asked. "Your friends tell me you've changed too."

"Do they now?" Y/N replied dryly, making a mental note to have words with Seungkwan about discussing her personal development with Minghao's friends.

"Apparently you smile more," Jun said with a grin. "And have developed a surprising tolerance for aesthetic considerations in your designs."

"Function still comes first," Y/N insisted, though she couldn't deny how her perspective had evolved. "But I've come to appreciate that beauty can be functional in its own way—creating spaces people connect with emotionally means they value and protect those spaces."

"Exactly what Minghao has always believed," Jun noted. "See? Perfect harmony."

"Hardly perfect," Y/N laughed. "We still argue constantly."

"Creative tension," Jun corrected. "Essential for innovation."

Across the table, Minghao caught her eye and smiled—that rare, genuine smile that still made her heart do ridiculous things in her chest. He excused himself from his conversation and made his way to her side.

"Stealing my architect, Jun?" he asked, his tone light.

"Just confirming you're worthy of her," Jun replied with theatrical seriousness. "The jury remains deliberating."

"A reasonable concern," Minghao acknowledged, surprising Y/N with his playfulness. "I have similar questions myself."

"On that note, I'll leave you two to your existential relationship doubts," Jun said, standing. "Seungkwan is demonstrating what he calls 'the dance of sustainable architecture' to Mingyu, and I can't miss that."

As Jun departed, Minghao took his place beside Y/N. "Having second thoughts yet?" he asked quietly.

"About?"

"This." He gestured between them. "Us. The complicated personal and professional entanglement we've somehow created."

Y/N considered the question seriously. "Second thoughts? No. Occasional moments of disbelief that I'm actually involved with someone who once represented everything I professionally opposed? Absolutely."

"The feeling is mutual," Minghao assured her, his eyes warm with amusement. "My uncle still can't comprehend it. He called yesterday to ask if this was an elaborate professional strategy to absorb your environmental expertise into a new luxury brand."

"Is it?" Y/N teased.

"If so, it's a strategy that's backfired spectacularly," Minghao replied. "I find myself increasingly aligned with your environmental priorities rather than his profit margins."

"Terrible business sense," Y/N agreed solemnly. "But excellent ethical development."

Their conversation was interrupted by Seungkwan's return, slightly flushed from whatever architectural dance he'd been performing.

"Stop being antisocial in your little couple bubble," he admonished. "We're planning the housewarming party for your new joint studio."

"Our what?" Y/N asked, bewildered.

"Your new studio," Seungkwan repeated as if it were obvious. "For the independent practice you're obviously going to establish together. We've already started a Pinterest board for the design. Very minimal but with plants everywhere. Mingyu suggested a coffee station that would make most cafes jealous."

"We haven't discussed—" Minghao began.

"Details," Seungkwan dismissed with a wave. "The concept is solid. 'XYN Design' or something similarly clever that combines your names. Sustainable luxury for the conscious elite. We're trademarking taglines as we speak."

Y/N looked at Minghao, expecting shared exasperation at their friends' presumption. Instead, she found him looking thoughtful.

"It's not an unreasonable concept," he said carefully. "Combining our complementary expertise in a dedicated practice."

"You're actually considering this?" Y/N asked, surprised by his openness to Seungkwan's meddling.

"I'm considering many possibilities," Minghao clarified. "Including professional collaboration that extends beyond our current project." After a pause, he added more quietly, "If that's something you might be interested in exploring."

Before Y/N could respond, Seungkwan clapped his hands delightedly. "See? It's practically decided! Jun, they're discussing the studio concept! Operation Architecture Romance is advancing to phase three!"

"We have phases?" Y/N asked, alarmed.

"So many phases," Seungkwan confirmed cheerfully before hurrying off to update Jun on this development.

Left momentarily alone despite the bustling celebration around them, Y/N turned to Minghao. "Are we really discussing a joint studio?"

"We're discussing possibilities," Minghao clarified. "No commitment, just... consideration of potential futures."

The careful way he framed it—open but not pressuring—was so characteristic of his approach to everything. Y/N found herself appreciating this thoughtfulness even as part of her marveled at how quickly her life had transformed.

"Three months ago, I would have laughed at the mere suggestion of working with you long-term," she admitted. "Now it seems like the most natural evolution imaginable."

"Evolution rather than revolution," Minghao observed. "Gradual integration of complementary elements."

"You make it sound so architectural," Y/N smiled.

"It's how I understand the world," he acknowledged. "Through spatial relationships and balanced tensions."

"And how do you understand us?" she asked, surprising herself with the directness of the question.

Minghao considered this with characteristic thoughtfulness. "As a harmonious counterpoint," he said finally. "Different melodies that create something more complex and beautiful together than either could alone."

The poetry of his answer caught Y/N off guard. For someone so reserved, Minghao occasionally revealed unexpected depth of feeling through carefully chosen words.

"That's beautiful," she said softly.

"It's accurate," he replied simply. "At least from my perspective."

Around them, their friends continued celebrating, occasional glances and smiles in their direction suggesting that their quiet conversation was not going unnoticed. Y/N found she didn't mind the attention as much as she might have expected. There was something affirming about having their connection witnessed and supported by people who mattered to them both.

"Whatever we decide professionally," Y/N said, returning to the question of their potential collaboration, "I know I want to continue what we've started personally. Despite how unexpected and occasionally inconvenient it might be."

"Inconvenient?" Minghao raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yes," Y/N laughed. "Do you know how often I have to hear Seungkwan say 'I told you so'? At least three times daily. And my entire professional identity was partly built on criticizing exactly the kind of development your family company represents. Plus, you're annoyingly particular about material selections and have opinions about literally every design element down to the smallest detail."

"All valid points," Minghao acknowledged, the hint of a smile playing around his lips. "Though I could note similar inconveniences—Jun's unbearable smugness, my uncle's disappointment, your stubborn insistence on prioritizing function even when aesthetic adjustments would create negligible efficiency impacts..."

"See? Completely impractical connection," Y/N concluded, her smile belying her words.

"And yet," Minghao said softly, taking her hand, "here we are."

"Here we are," Y/N agreed, feeling a sense of rightness that defied all her previous notions of compatibility. "Designing something neither of us planned but both of us need."

Six Months Later

Y/N adjusted the placement of the architectural model on the display table, stepping back to assess its impact in the gallery lighting. Around her, staff made final preparations for the evening's exhibition opening—"Sustainable Harmony: New Directions in Urban Design."

The gallery space—a renovated industrial building with exposed brick walls and carefully preserved structural elements—provided the perfect backdrop for their first major presentation as partners in XYN Studio, the name they'd ultimately embraced despite Y/N's initial eye-rolling at Seungkwan's suggestion.

The past six months had been a whirlwind of change. The Hangang Riverfront project had received unanimous committee approval and was now under construction, with Y/N and Minghao serving as design consultants. Their joint studio had formed organically from their continued collaboration, gathering surprising momentum as clients sought their unique integration of sustainability and aesthetics.

And personally... Y/N smiled to herself, remembering the incredulous looks on her friends' faces when she'd casually mentioned moving in with Minghao just three months into their relationship. For someone who had always prided herself on careful planning and methodical decision-making, the speed of these developments should have been alarming. Instead, each step had felt like a natural progression, as if they were simply acknowledging what had already formed between them.

"Perfect," Minghao's voice came from behind her as he surveyed the model placement. "The lighting highlights the water elements exactly as we intended."

Y/N turned to find him carrying two cups of tea—oolong for himself, black with one sugar for her. The simple gesture of remembering her preference, as he had from their earliest collaboration, still touched her in unexpected ways.

"Nervous?" she asked, accepting the cup.

"Appropriately alert to the professional significance of the evening," he corrected, making her smile. Minghao rarely admitted to anything as unrefined as nervousness, though she'd learned to recognize the subtle signs—the slightly more precise adjustment of his cuffs, the extra moment spent considering his words.

"It's a beautiful exhibition," Y/N assured him, looking around at the carefully curated display of their work. "The perfect introduction of XYN Studio to the wider design community."

Their exhibition showcased a series of urban interventions—some completed, others conceptual—that demonstrated their shared vision. Each project balanced environmental innovation with cultural and aesthetic excellence, creating spaces that served both planet and people with equal consideration.

"Your parents are coming tonight?" Minghao asked, a hint of that not-nervousness in his voice.

"Yes," Y/N confirmed. "They're excited to finally meet you properly. My father has read every article about your departure from XM at least twice. He's fascinated by your professional evolution."

"And your criticism of my family's company?" Minghao asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Also fascinated by that," Y/N admitted with a laugh. "He finds our entire relationship 'conceptually intriguing,' which is high praise from an environmental engineering professor."

"And your uncle?" she asked in return. "Any change in his position?"

Minghao's expression grew more thoughtful. "Some. The success of the river project has made him reconsider certain assumptions. He's even incorporated some sustainability elements into recent XM developments—though more as marketing strategy than core principle."

"Progress nonetheless," Y/N observed.

"Incremental change," Minghao agreed. "Sometimes that's how transformation happens—not through dramatic rejection but gradual integration of new ideas."

The philosophy could have applied equally to their personal journey—from professional adversaries to reluctant collaborators to partners in every sense. Not a sudden conversion but a gradual recognition of complementary values beneath seemingly opposed approaches.

Their moment of reflection was interrupted by the arrival of familiar voices—their friends coming early to preview the exhibition before the official opening.

"It's MAGNIFICENT!" Seungkwan declared before he'd even fully entered the gallery, Jeonghan and Woozi following with more moderate but equally supportive expressions.

"Professional bias noted but appreciated," Y/N replied dryly as Seungkwan embraced her enthusiastically.

"No bias, only objective recognition of excellence," Seungkwan insisted. "Though I do take partial credit for facilitating the partnership that made this possible."

"How exactly did you facilitate it?" Woozi asked skeptically.

"Through strategic encouragement and creating opportunities for romance to blossom," Seungkwan explained grandly. "Also, I totally called it from day one."

"We all called it," Jeonghan corrected. "Some of us were just more vocal about it."

As they bantered, Jun, Mingyu, and Wonwoo arrived, completing what had become their merged circle of friends. The easy integration of their once-separate groups mirrored Y/N and Minghao's own blending of lives and practices—unexpected but surprisingly natural.

"The central concept is exceptionally well-articulated," Wonwoo observed as he studied one of the display boards. "The balance between innovation and accessibility is precisely calibrated."

"High praise from architecture's most discerning analyst," Jun translated for Y/N. "He stayed up all night reading your design manifesto and called it 'refreshingly substantive.'"

As their friends explored the exhibition, offering commentary and support in their various styles, Y/N found herself standing slightly apart with Minghao, observing the scene with shared appreciation.

"Did you ever imagine this?" she asked quietly. "When we were first forced to collaborate on the river project? That we'd end up here?"

"Never," Minghao admitted, his honesty one of the many things she'd come to value deeply. "I expected a difficult professional exercise that would ultimately remain a compromise between opposed visions. I never anticipated discovering such fundamental alignment beneath our surface differences."

"Nor did I," Y/N agreed. "I was so certain I understood exactly who you were and what you represented. Being wrong has never been so satisfying."

Minghao's expression softened into the smile that was still rare in professional settings but increasingly common in their private moments. "Perhaps that's the most valuable outcome of our collaboration—the recognition that initial judgments rarely capture the complexity of another person's perspective."

"That, and the truly exceptional architecture we create together," Y/N added with a grin.

"That too," Minghao acknowledged. "Though I maintain the personal discovery has been the more revolutionary development."

Before Y/N could respond, Seungkwan's voice rose above the general conversation. "Everyone! Attention please! Jun and I have an announcement!"

Y/N and Minghao exchanged wary glances, all too familiar with the creative chaos that tended to result from Seungkwan and Jun's collaborative ideas.

"As the self-appointed chroniclers of the greatest architectural love story of our generation," Seungkwan began dramatically, "Jun and I have created something special to commemorate this exhibition opening."

"We call it 'From Rivalry to Romance: The Architectural Journey of Y/N and Minghao,'" Jun continued, producing a tablet with a flourish. "A digital scrapbook documenting your transformation from enemies to partners."

"You did not," Y/N said, horrified fascination in her voice.

"We absolutely did," Seungkwan confirmed. "Complete with candid photos, overheard quotes, and a timeline of significant moments—including Y/N's legendary takedown of Minghao's Dongdaemun Plaza extension in Sustainable Design Quarterly, which we now recognize as sublimated attraction expressed through professional criticism."

"That was genuine criticism," Y/N protested, though she couldn't help laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

"The glass curtain wall was legitimately problematic from an energy management perspective," Minghao agreed, surprising everyone by joining her defense.

"See? Still perfectly aligned in their architectural principles," Jun declared triumphantly. "True love."

As their friends gathered to view what promised to be an equally embarrassing and endearing documentation of their relationship, Y/N turned to Minghao. "Should we be concerned about this becoming public?"

"Definitely," Minghao replied, echoing their now-familiar exchange. But his expression remained calm, even quietly amused. "Though I find I'm less concerned about public perception than I once would have been."

It was true, Y/N realized. Both of them had grown more comfortable with the unconventional nature of their connection—professional rivals turned partners, environmental advocate and luxury developer finding common ground, opposites creating harmony rather than discord.

As the gallery began filling with exhibition guests—fellow architects, clients, critics, and friends—Y/N felt a moment of perspective on the journey that had brought them here. Not just the architectural achievements displayed around them, but the personal evolution that had made those achievements possible.

Later that evening, after successful introductions between families, enthusiastic reception of their work, and countless congratulations from colleagues, Y/N and Minghao finally found a quiet moment alone in the corner of the gallery.

"A successful launch," Minghao observed, his composed exterior barely hinting at the satisfaction she knew he felt.

"For the studio and the exhibition," Y/N agreed. "Though I could have done without Seungkwan and Jun's multimedia presentation of our 'architectural romance.'"

"It was surprisingly well-produced," Minghao noted with that hint of humor she'd come to treasure. "The timeline of our evolving design approach alongside our personal development showed genuine analytical thinking."

"Of course you would appreciate the organizational structure," Y/N laughed. "Even in embarrassing friend interventions, you find design elements to admire."

"Pattern recognition is fundamental to architectural thinking," Minghao replied solemnly, though his eyes betrayed his amusement.

Y/N studied him in the gallery lighting—the elegant lines of his profile, the careful precision of his movements, the subtle warmth in his expression that most people missed but she had learned to read fluently. All the elements that had once seemed to represent values opposed to her own now recognized as simply different expressions of shared principles.

"I love you," she said simply—a statement they'd exchanged privately before but never in a professional context. "Not despite our differences but because of how they've helped us both grow."

Minghao's expression softened in the way reserved only for her. "I love you too," he replied, his quiet voice carrying the depth of feeling he expressed more through actions than words. "You've changed how I see everything—architecture, sustainability, purpose, balance. It's been the most valuable revelation of my career."

"Just your career?" Y/N teased gently.

"Of my life," Minghao amended, taking her hand with characteristic intentionality. "The most unexpected and essential discovery I never knew I needed to make."

Around them, their exhibition—the physical manifestation of their shared vision—drew appreciation from the design community that had once seen them as representatives of opposed approaches. Their friends and families mingled in unlikely but harmonious combination. And between them, something had formed that neither could have designed alone—a connection that balanced strength with vulnerability, principle with flexibility, certainty with growth.

Not a compromise between conflicting visions, but a new creation altogether—unexpected, challenging, and ultimately more beautiful than either could have imagined when they first faced each other across that conference room, certain they understood exactly who the other was and what they represented.

The most exquisite designs, they had both discovered, emerge not from perfect agreement but from productive tension—opposing forces finding balance to create something neither could achieve alone.

In architecture, and in love.

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natsaffection · 8 months ago

Note

STRAP SUCKING STRAP SUCKING STRAP SUCKING ‼️‼️

STRAP SUCKING FIC ‼️‼️

DOM!NATASHA

😉 love ya!

Suck it. | N.R

Warning: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Oral Fixation, Strap on sucking (r)

Word count: 1,6k

A/N: ui..

Natasha sat on the plush sofa, scrolling through her tablet, trying to focus on the intel she needed to review. But her attention kept drifting to you, lounging on the other end of the room. You were relaxed, nestled into the cushions with a tub of ice cream in your hand. The soft clink of the spoon against the container was the only sound breaking the silence. Natasha's sharp green eyes flickered over to you, watching as you took slow, deliberate bites of the dessert. The way your lips wrapped around the spoon had her pulse quickening despite herself.

You noticed her gaze, smirking inwardly. You knew exactly what you were doing. Natasha had a reputation for being tough, unyielding, but you knew the small things that could unravel her, bit by bit. And this little game with the ice cream? It was just too tempting not to play. Slowly, you dipped the spoon into the creamy vanilla, gathering a small bite, and brought it to your lips. But instead of taking it in immediately, you let your tongue trace the edge of the spoon, teasing the ice cream before finally savoring it. You saw Natasha's jaw tighten slightly out of the corner of your eye.

"You're such a slut.." Natasha muttered under her breath, the words meant more for herself than for you. She tried to return her attention to the tablet, but it was useless. The image of your teasing smile and the way your tongue played with the spoon was seared into her mind. You pretended not to hear her, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed your excitement. You dipped your spoon into the ice cream again, this time taking your time to lick it clean, glancing at Natasha with innocent eyes. "Mmm, this is so good, Nat.." you said softly, knowing full well that you were pushing her buttons.

Natasha’s patience was wearing thin. Her grip on the tablet tightened, and she set it down on the table with a little more force than necessary. She could feel the tension building, the struggle between her desire to maintain control and the overwhelming urge to do something about the way you were teasing her. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. In one swift motion, Natasha was on her feet and crossing the room towards you. Before you could react, she had the ice cream tub out of your hands and was pulling you up from the sofa. The next thing you knew, she was steering you towards the hallway, her hand firm on your wrist.

“H-Hey, my Ice-” you started, but the look in her eyes silenced you immediately. There was something fierce and almost predatory in her expression. “You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” Natasha’s voice was low, dangerous, sending a thrill down your spine. “Well, now you’ve got it. Let’s see how much you can take.”

Natasha's grip on your wrist was firm as she led you down the hall, her pace quick and purposeful. The door to her room clicked shut behind you, and you felt the air in the room shift—a palpable tension thickening between the two of you. Without saying a word, Natasha turned to face you, her eyes dark and intense.

“Knees.” she ordered, her voice low and commanding. You knew better than to hesitate. You dropped to your knees in front of her, your heart pounding in anticipation. The thrill of obedience, of surrendering to her, coursed through your veins. You didn’t dare look up, but you could feel her gaze burning into you, assessing, deciding what to do with you.

Natasha walked away for a moment, and you could hear the rustle of fabric, the sound of her getting ready. When she returned, you dared to glance up, and your breath caught in your throat. She stood before you, her toned body accentuated by the harness she now wore, the strapon jutting out, a silent promise of what was to come.

“Open..” Natasha commanded, her voice carrying that edge of authority you found impossible to resist. You parted your lips, obediently leaning forward as she guided the tip of the strapon to your mouth. Slowly, you began to suck on it, your tongue working over the surface, knowing this was exactly what she wanted. Natasha’s hand came to rest on the back of your head, guiding your movements as you took more of it into your mouth.

“That’s a good girl.” she murmured, a note of satisfaction in her tone. “You know your place.” Her praise sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. You closed your eyes, focusing on your task, taking her deeper, pushing yourself to please her. But Natasha was not one to make things easy. Just as you were settling into a rhythm, she pinched your nose shut with her fingers, cutting off your air.

You gasped around the strapon, your eyes flying open in surprise. The lack of air added a new layer of intensity to the act, and Natasha’s grin was wicked as she watched you struggle, her control over you absolute. “Look at you..” Natasha teased, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “Desperate for it, aren’t you?”

You tried to nod, but with your nose pinched and her strapon filling your mouth, it was difficult to move. Natasha finally released your nose, allowing you a quick breath before pushing you back down, deeper this time. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of her dominance and your own submission creating a heady mix that had your body trembling with need.

“Maybe I’ll let you breathe if you’re good enough.” she taunted, her hand tightening in your hair as she guided your head up and down, controlling the pace. “But if you’re not..well, you know what happens.” You whimpered around the strapon, the sound muffled but clear in its desperation. You knew you had no choice but to please her, to obey, or face the consequences of her displeasure. And as much as you loved this game, you knew that Natasha could push you to your limits, and beyond, if she chose to.

Natasha’s other hand trailed down to your chin, tilting your head up slightly so that your eyes met hers. The heat in her gaze was unmistakable, and it fueled your determination to do everything in your power to satisfy her. “Keep going, Y/n..” she urged, her voice softer now, almost encouraging. “Show me how much you want it.”

Natasha’s hand gripped your hair tighter, controlling your movements with precision. You could feel the weight of her dominance bearing down on you, each thrust a reminder of who held the power in this moment. “Deeper.” Natasha commanded, her voice a low, sultry whisper that sent a shiver through your entire body.

You did your best to comply, relaxing your throat and taking her as deeply as you could. The tip of the strapon pressed against the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t pull away. You knew better than to disappoint her.

“Good girl..” Natasha murmured, her tone laced with dark approval. She pushed in further, her hips moving in a steady rhythm now, forcing you to take her even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, but the praise in her voice drove you to continue, despite the gagging sounds escaping your throat.

Natasha watched you intently, her eyes blazing with satisfaction. She could see the struggle in your eyes, the way your breath hitched each time she thrust deeper. But she didn’t relent..instead, she seemed to take pleasure in your difficulty, knowing that you would push yourself to the brink to please her. “Come on, take it all.” she urged, her voice a husky command that sent waves of heat coursing through you. “I know you can do better than that.”

She thrust again, this time more forcefully, and you couldn’t suppress the gag that followed. The sound was raw, desperate, and it only seemed to fuel Natasha’s hunger. She leaned over you slightly, her grip on your hair tightening as she increased the pace, pushing you closer to your limits. “Don’t you dare pull away.” Natasha growled, her voice rough with need. “You’re going to take every inch, and you’re going to love it.”

You nodded as best you could, your throat burning, eyes watering, but you didn’t stop. The gagging noises grew louder, more intense, but Natasha showed no signs of easing up. Her thrusts became more insistent, each one pushing you further, testing how much you could handle. “Gagging like a desperate little slut..” Natasha teased, her voice dripping with cruel affection. “I knew you had it in you.”

She released her grip on your hair for a moment, bringing both hands to your face, holding your head in place as she pushed in one last time, the strapon going as deep as it could. You choked, tears spilling down your cheeks as you struggled to take it all, but the look in Natasha’s eyes kept you going. She was enjoying every second of your struggle, every gag, every tear. After what felt like an eternity, Natasha finally relented, pulling out just enough to let you catch your breath, but not enough to give you any real relief. She looked down at you, her thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek, her gaze softer now, but no less commanding.

“Good girl.” she whispered, her voice a mixture of praise and possession. “You did so well for me.” You gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to recover, but you knew that this was far from over. She let you catch your breath just enough before she moved her hips again, the strapon sliding back into your mouth. “Again.” Natasha ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And this time, don’t hold back. I want to hear you gag for me.”

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanov smut

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toruskiii · 2 months ago

Text

BEEP BEEP! YOUR RIDE IS HERE!

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳."

Sypnosis: You ordered an Uber to get home— but something about your driver is… off. Not in a dangerous way, just weird. Genre: Fluff/Crack Characters: Blade, Boothill, Aventurine x gn!reader Warnings: NEVER let Boothill drive you around. Lots of reckless driving (keep your eyes on the road and follow traffic laws guys), Aventurine gambling addiction core, reader just gives up on Blade's part LMAO, a lot of cussing, this is pretty ooc😭 A/N: Heh...how long has it been since I last posted?! This has been rotting in my drafts for quite a while so take this as an apology [masterlist] [about me]

BOOTHILL

It’s well-known that Boothill has a reputation for stealing vehicles and disregarding traffic laws while he was in Penacony, so it’s safe to say he’s probably not the best Uber driver around.

But you were exhausted. Your feet were aching from walking around the city, and you were way too far from the train station. Besides, it was late, and at this point, calling an Uber seemed like your only option. You scroll through the app, frustration building as you realize there’s no one available to pick you up at this hour— except for one driver.

Boothill.

The name itself was odd, but you figured, why not give it a try?

That is, until you started reading the ratings and reviews. Now you’re regretting your decision and seriously considering texting your friends and family the car details, just in case.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 3 out of 5 stars. “A very odd fellow, and he almost got us both into a car crash!” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 2 out of 5 stars. “I was a drunk passenger, but honestly, I can’t tell if I was the one who was drunk or if it was him.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 0 out of 5 stars. “Does this guy even have a license? He’s seriously reckless! But I’ll admit, he managed to speed across the streets and get me to my destination on time, even though I was running late.” >Cyborg69 replied: "Oi, don't cha think I should get at least 3 stars for that?"

You barely have time to read another review when a sharp honk pulls you out of your thoughts.

Beep!

"Hey, you the one who ordered an Uber?" A rough, almost drawling voice calls out, and you look up to see a man with black-tipped bangs leaning out of his car window. In all honesty, he looks pretty decent— well, as decent as someone can look when you realize they’re not exactly human. Penacony really does attract the strangest people.

His fingers tap against the car door, a playful grin spreading across his face as he gestures toward the vehicle. "Hop in! Front or back, your choice." he says with a casual shrug. You pick the back seat, deciding it’s the safest bet.

As you settle into the car, you’re immediately hit by the sharp, almost overpowering scent of gasoline. It catches you off guard, and you can’t help but wince. He notices your expression in the rearview mirror and lets out a low chuckle, rolling down all the windows with a flick of his hand. "Heh, sorry ‘bout the smell. Kinda rushed to... ya know, grab some fuel."

If his ratings didn’t already make you second-guess this ride, the way he spoke just sealed the deal.

“Oh! Uh, that’s fine.” You force a smile, nervously buckling your seatbelt as he starts driving. At first, everything seems normal. You keep glancing at him through the rearview mirror, your eyes meeting his for a few seconds before he quickly looks away, whistling casually.

"Don’t hafta keep lookin' at me, sweetheart. I ain’t no danger." He flashes a smile, but it doesn’t do much to ease your nerves. "So, headin’ home?" he asks, and you nod slowly, giving him an address near your place for him to drop you off.

As the drive continues, your gaze shifts to the interior of the car, and you can’t help but feel a little weirded out by some of the decor. A heart-shaped pillow? Really? That didn’t exactly match the vibe you’d expect. And a bottle of perfume— one that definitely looked like it belonged to a woman. Maybe he just liked the scent, but still, it felt… odd. After all, men’s perfumes could be strange sometimes. Who wants to smell like wolf shit and pig ass anyway?

Then again, he did kind of fit that description.

Maybe he liked the scent of blood— because suddenly, he floors the accelerator, speeding down the highway, earning a chorus of honks from terrified drivers.

“woAH!” you shriek, the force slamming you back into your seat. Your hands instinctively grab the handle above the door, knuckles white as the car swerves dangerously.

“Oops, sorry.” His voice comes out nonchalantly, but there’s no trace of remorse on his face— just that stupid grin. “Hold on tight! These folks on the road are way too slow.” With a wild yell, he floors the gas again, pushing the car even faster.

At this point, you’re just praying that if the car flips, you’ll go down with it. You didn’t want to survive whatever mess would follow if he really did manage to send the car tumbling. Your heart’s pounding in your chest, and you scream again in pure horror, watching him laugh as he skillfully dodges every car in his path.

“What the actual FUCK are you doing?!” you scream, feeling your life flash before your eyes.

“I’m driving! What else am I doing? Taking a dookie?” he retorts with a scoff, eyes flicking briefly to the rearview mirror. You glance back, and your stomach drops: blue and red lights. Are there cops behind you?

“Uh, ignore the cops, darlin’.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Pretend this is just some free clubbing lights for ya.”

You panic, a fresh wave of terror rushing over you. "I don't want to fucking club!"

"Woah there, panic at the disco, heheh."

You don’t find his joke funny at all when he suddenly misses the turn to your house, and for a brief moment, you actually consider choking him out from the backseat just to make him stop. But then, something heavy falling in the car catches your eye.

Wait. Was that a gun? Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

He must’ve noticed your body stiffen in horror, because his free hand quickly rummages through his pockets. With a groan, he mutters, “Oh my Aeons— sorry, that’s my gun.” He clears his throat, and you can only deadpan at him, your mind racing. The reviews on his profile had to be way too generous. He didn’t deserve 0 stars. Hell, he should be banned, his license revoked, and his profile deleted.

But of course, he tries to reassure you. “Don’t worry, that’s, uh… a toy gun. For unruly passengers, ya know? Get it?” His sharp teeth flash in a grin, and you swear, for a split second, you see a glint of something dangerous. Then he curses some censored version of a swear word under his breath. “Ah, crap…I missed your turn.”

Yeah, you’re never booking an Uber again.

The car screeches as he whips it into a sharp U-turn, sending a cloud of smoke from the tires. You glance over to the police officer in the next lane— his bright blue eyes reflecting dim streetlights, a black-haired guy with an unreadable expression. But it’s the person sitting in the backseat that catches your attention. Two glowing golden eyes peer out from the window, face pressed against the glass.

“What the heck do they want from you?!” you scream, your body drenched in sweat as you grip the seat, heart racing.

Boothill shrugs nonchalantly. “Ehh... I dunno.”

Oh, he definitely knows.

He suddenly slams the brakes, and you slam forward, your face colliding with the back of his seat. Before you even have a chance to recover, you scramble out of the car, your breath ragged. But something catches your eye— there’s a pair of black heels in the backseat.

Wait. What?

“Think of this ride as, uh— on the house, ‘kay?” Boothill calls out from the window, giving you a thumbs-up with his metal fingers. You can barely catch your breath as you clutch your chest, your heart still racing.

“I’m kinda in a sticky situation— er…” His voice trails off as the sirens grow louder. He grunts, pulling the handbrake, but not before shouting at you as he slams the gas and speeds off.

“Remember to give me 5 stars on the Uber app!”

You stand frozen, staring in disbelief as his car disappears into the distance. Your mind is still reeling, trying to process what just happened, when the police car whips past you in a blur of lights and sirens. And then, you hear it— a panicked scream.

“HE’S DRIVING AWAY WITH HIMEKO’S CAR—"

AVENTURINE

After a long night of clubbing, you called an Uber, eager to escape the blinding lights and noise and head home. But what you didn’t expect was stepping into what felt more like another club than a car ride.

This didn’t feel like an Uber at all. The backseat was spacious, plush even, with a basket full of snacks— gum, chips, candy, just about anything you could imagine.

“Feel free to take whatever you want, yeah? It’s an accommodation,” a smooth voice drawls, and damn, you did not expect your Uber driver to be someone so... dazzling. A pretty blonde guy with striking purple and blue eyes, his gaze cool and calm. His cologne was strong but intoxicating, a heady mix of something sweet yet fresh.

"Are you sure I can take the snacks? No extra charge?" You raise an eyebrow, hesitating as you reach for a packet of chips.

"No extra charge," he repeats with a smirk, his hands casually gripping the wheel. He taps his fingers on the leather-covered steering wheel as he waits patiently for the car in front of him to move.

You mumble a quiet thanks before grabbing a few packets of chips and stuffing them into your bag, quickly buckling up your seatbelt. As you settle in, you start taking in your surroundings. One look at this guy, and it’s pretty obvious he’s loaded. The seats are unbelievably comfortable, and the extra touches in the snack basket are a little surprising. Alongside the chips, there are bottles of mineral water and other beverages, perfect if you’re parched. And judging by the brand of the snacks and drinks, it’s clear— this is first-class treatment. Something you’d expect to find on a luxury flight.

Suddenly, a tiny dice clatters against your leg. You freeze, slowly picking it up, unsure of what to make of it. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation, his grin widening as he speaks.

“Roll the dice,” he says, his tone playful. “The number you land on will decide where you’re going.”

You blink, completely caught off guard. “I’m sorry— what?” you stare at him in disbelief. “I just wanna go home, dude.” You hand the dice back to him awkwardly, hoping he’ll drop it.

He tuts, the sound almost childlike. “Ah, no, no, no. I offered you some wonderful snack choices, the least you could do is play along with my game.” He whines, like a petulant child, and you’re starting to feel uneasy. But there’s something about him that doesn’t scream dangerous— just weird. Definitely weird, like the one Uber driver you met last month.

“…And what is this about?” You furrow your brow, a little frustrated. “You’re an Uber driver, shouldn’t you listen to your customer on where they want to go?” You toss the dice back toward him.

“Please,” he suddenly pleads, slumping in his seat dramatically. “I have a gambling addiction.”

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing him cautiously. “What does that have to do with me?” You glance down at the dice now sitting in your palms.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, his eyes glazed over with a mix of frustration and longing. “My job banned me from going to casinos for a week,” he mutters. “So, I took this Uber job to kill time. The only way to salvage my boredom is to have my customers gamble for me.”

This Uber driver is definitely fucking weird.

“And what is your job, besides being an Uber driver...?” you ask, gulping slightly as you glance around his car, trying to pick up on any clues. His outfit, the decor, anything that might give you an idea of what’s going on.

“Well… I work for the IPC—”

“Okay, I get it now,” you quickly cut him off, your face twisting into an expression of judgment and unease. Those three letters were all you needed to hear. Of course, he worked for the IPC. All the people you've met affiliated with the IPC were just off. Like that strange Uber driver from last month? He was a huge IPC hater— and, oh yeah, he robbed a car. Then there was that girl you ran into last week, the one who casually introduced herself as an IPC worker. And trailing behind her? This bizarre creature that looked like an anteater... or a dolphin— you’re not even sure. You overheard it was her pet, but you’ve never seen anything like that in your life.

"Hey," he sighs, sitting up straighter in the seat. You’re desperately hoping he’ll drop the dice nonsense and just start driving already, but he stays put, even though the car in front of you has been long gone.

"I know the IPC has a bad reputation," he says, "but I promise you I’m not that bad."

"Yeah... not that bad for a guy who has a price on the IPC’s head," you mutter under your breath, and you catch the flash of recognition in his eyes.

“Oh! Boothill?”

You instantly regret even saying anything.

“I bumped into that guy last week— well, more like he crashed into my car,” he continues, seemingly unphased by your discomfort. “At first, he apologized. Then, out of nowhere, he pulled a gun on me and—”

Without thinking, you hurl the dice somewhere in the car, scramble to get out, and bolt for the door, heart racing.

"No tip???"

BLADE

It hadn’t even been five minutes in the car, and your driver was already chastising you.

"You're breathing too loudly in my car."

You freeze, immediately holding your breath, your hands clutched tightly in your lap. "I apologize—"

"Don’t talk."

You bite your lip, feeling your patience slip. Let me just fucking die then, I guess, you think, staring blankly out the window.

You glance over at the drawer in the car and notice a piece of paper peeking out. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tug it out, only to find the words written in... lipstick?

“𝒲𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓴𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅, 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓃𝒸𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝑒. 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎, 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑒!~"

What the hell? Why are all the drivers like this? You can't even begin to describe it anymore.

"If you're feeling afraid right now, I suggest you get off," his deep voice cuts through the silence, and without missing a beat, you nod— pushing open the door while he’s still driving and rolling out onto the pavement.

reader rn:

#i just realized I have not written anyone else besides these few characters omfg #originally this was going to have stelle and caelus but maybe next time #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fluff #blade x reader #aventurine x reader #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #hsr aventurine #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr imagines

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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 months ago

Text

Familiar Faces – Jake Seresin

I wasn't sure what was going on around here, but the training captain was fired two weeks before the pilots were supposed to go out on their mission. I'm not sure if I was a last resort or an eager replacement.

From what I know about Pete "Maverick" Phillips, he was a hell of a pilot but had some problems with authority. I reviewed his files and my heart was stuck in my throat as I read through the profiles of the pilots.

I spent too much time reading through Jake Seresin's file. He goes by "Hangman" now and has a reputation to match it. My mind wandered back to our last night together. How much we had to drink. How little we talked. How fast we lost our clothes.

I shook my head and shut his folder. I wasn't sure how he would respond to seeing me again. To be honest, I wasn't sure how I would respond to seeing him again.

When the time came to leave, I grabbed my stuff and headed to the car waiting for me outside. I ignored the nerves building the closest I got to the ship.

"Captain Y/L/N," someone said as I got out of the car. I looked up as they walked over to me.

"That's me," I nodded.

"Follow me," he said. I smiled as he took my bag from me.

The second we walked on board, I saw him. I held my breath, waiting for him to notice me. When he did, I forced myself to look away and not look back.

"Little Firefly," Jake Seresin smirked when I walked by him.

"Lieutenant Seresin," I nodded as I continued walking. I held back my eye roll when he jogged to catch up to me.

"What brings you here, Y/N? Did they finally transfer you here?"

"Not exactly," I mumbled.

"Captain Y/L/N!"

"Captain?" Jake stuttered as Admiral Soloman ran over to us.

"Admiral Soloman," I smiled, ignoring Jake's confusing look. "It's nice to meet you. Officially."

"It's wonderful to meet you," he chuckled, "but please, call me, Warlock."

It was then that Warlock noticed Hangman studying me. "You alright, Hangman?"

"Yeah," he stuttered, slowly looking away from me. "I mean, yes, sir. I'm fine."

"Alright," Admiral said with a small smirk on his face as he looked between the two of us. "Go round up the others. We have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, sir."

I finally looked at Jake, my heart instantly jumping into my throat the second we made eye contact. All those feelings I ignored during training hit me like a train. I tore my eyes away from him and tried to remind myself of the pain I felt.

"Captain Y/L/N, if you would follow me, there are some things I wanted to go through with you before you meet the rest of the team."

"Of course, sir."

After meeting the team, I was escorted to my quarters. I slowly started to unpack when there was a knock at the door. I turned around, my breath getting caught in my throat.

"It's a small world," Jake joked.

"It is," I said slowly. I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself.

"It's been a long time," he said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorway.

"It has," I mumbled.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine," I shrugged. "You?"

"Better now," he said, not-so-subtly checking me out. "I have to admit, Firefly, I'm looking forward to you giving me orders."

"Jake," I elongated his name in warning.

"Last time I saw you, you were leaving me in your dust," he teased. "If Maverick can't train us, you're the best option. You always were the best pilot. Fast decisions. Faster reactions. You always were fast. Then again, not always. . ."

"Jake!" I yelled, cutting him off. We stared at each other as I tried to debate what to do. Part of me wanted to catch up with him. Another part of me wanted to jump overboard. "You need to leave."

"Y/N," he sighed.

"Now, Jake," I said as I started to push him out of my room. "Go."

Once he was out, I turned around. I forced myself to focus on unpacking. Until. . .

"You left."

"What?" I turned around to see Jake still in the doorway.

"That night," Jake stuttered. "The night we. . . I woke up the next morning and you were gone. When I went into training later, they said you had transferred."

"Not exactly," I said, slightly clearing my throat.

"What do you mean?" Hangman asked, taking a hesitant step toward me.

"I wasn't transferred, Jake," I said crossing my arms over my chest and turning my attention to my feet. "I was deployed."

"Wait, what?" Hangman panicked. "Deployed?"

"They needed me," I mumbled.

"I guess I get it," he stuttered. "You had the best record. No one could beat you. Where did they send you?"

"It doesn't matter," I said a little too quickly. I looked up and saw nothing but worry in his eyes.

"Yes, it does," he gently pushed, closing the gap between us. "Where did you. . ."

"Please don't ask me," I cut him off. I closed my eyes, forcing the tears not to fall. "Because if you ask me, I'll answer and I don't want to bring those memories back."

My eyes were still closed when Jake pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. Memories of the last time I saw him flooded my mind but it was better than memories of that deployment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "But you know, whatever happened over there, you can talk to me about it."

His honest offer to listen as I vented about the worst flight of my life was too much. I shook my head as I pulled out of our embrace and took a step away from him. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and looked away.

"Y/N," he sighed, trying to get my attention, "I know we ended things kind of awkwardly but. . ."

"Kind of," I mumbled. I looked back at him before continuing, "Jake, we got drunk and slept together. I knew I was shipping out the next day and. . ."

"Wait," Hangman cut me off. "You knew you were shipping off? What? Did you purposefully get drunk and sleep with me?"

"It wasn't as planned as that," I sighed. "I purposefully got drunk because I was nervous about where I was going and what they needed me to. . ." I cleared my throat before continuing. "I got drunk and you joined me. We were both drunk and didn't hold back. I didn't purposefully get you drunk and lure you to bed. Besides, it wasn't like it took much to get you into bed. I'm not sure how you feel, but I don't regret it. It was the one thing I wanted before. . . I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, Jake. And I didn't want to die without being with you. At least for one night."

Before I could overthink my response, Jake grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his chest. The second I was close to him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. He let go of my wrists and wrapped his arms around my waist as our lips moved in sync. We broke apart, breathing heavily.

"I've missed you like crazy," he whispered with his nose pressed to mine. "That night we spent together is stuck in my head. I haven't forgotten it."

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask. "Here I was, thinking it was just another one-night stand for you."

"With you? Never." He smirked as he tightened his arms around my waist. He paused before adding, "Y/N, when I woke up and you weren't there, I have never felt so lost and confused. I searched for you but they told me you were transferred. I looked for you. For months. I didn't want it to be a one-night stand, Y/N. I wanted more."

"More?"

He leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync until I remembered where we were.

"Jake," I gasped, breaking the kiss. "We can't. . . Not here. . . We're at work."

"I just happen to have a place nearby," he smirked.

"Jake," I sighed, slightly pushing him off of me.

"I know. I know," he chuckled. "You're my superior. If we start something, we need to be careful."

"It's not that," I said, slightly clearing my throat.

"What is it?" Jake gently pushed.

"I'm trying to get the Admirals to hire Captain Mitchell back. He deserves his job back."

"Wait, what?"

"He does, Jake," I said quickly. "This is a dangerous mission. A really dangerous mission. And I don't have the experience. Well, I do but I can't be focused enough. Maverick can keep you. . ."

"Why can't you be focused?" He asked, cutting me off. "Because of me?"

"Partly," I said honestly. "But. . ."

"Y/N," he said my name softly. "Does this have to do with your mission? What happened?"

"It was really bad," I said, my voice breaking. "They wanted me. . . They needed me. . . They ordered me to bomb a training facility. I killed hundreds of innocent people!"

Jake pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me as I sobbed.

"You were following orders," he tried to comfort me. I shook my head and buried my face into his neck.

"I can't do it," I said through my sobs. "I can't send you on a mission that you might not come back from. I can't be responsible for your death too. I can't. I can't. I won't."

* * * * *

"Captain Y/L/N, might I have a word?"

"Of course, Captain Mitchell," I excused myself before following Maverick.

"I wanted to say thank you," he started. "Admiral Soloman told me that you stepped down and recommended they give me my job back."

"I did," I nodded as I folded my hands behind my back.

"I also understand that it's not because you couldn't take care of the team and train them," Maverick said. I glanced at him and saw the knowing look in his eyes. "I've read about your mission, Captain. I also know that you tried to refuse the mission. You didn't choose to bomb the center. You were ordered."

"That doesn't change the number of lives I ruined," I mumbled to myself.

"Captain," Maverick said after a little pause, "how did you get your call sign, Firefly?"

My heart flipped. I cleared my throat as I tried to figure out if I should tell him the truth.

"One of the pilots I trained with gave it to me," I said, dancing around the full story. "He used to say that he was always chasing me like little kids chase a firefly."

"Who is the pilot that gave it to you?" Maverick asked, the tone of his voice sounding like he already knew the answer.

"You say you've read about my mission," I sighed, tired of this facade, "which means you also know who I flew with before my assignment."

"Hangman."

"That's not what I called him," I said under my breath as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"What did you call him?"

I smiled as I answered, "Serendipity."

"Really?" Maverick asked, holding back his laugh. "Doesn't that word mean. . ."

"The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way," I recited the definition I knew too well. "Jake liked to believe that we called him Serendipity because it sounds close to his last name."

"Why did you give him that call sign?"

"He and I got to talking one night," I explained, "and the way he spoke about his life made it seem like it was a miracle. He used to believe he was, "a lucky bastard". His words. To me, Serendipity was a better call sign than Lucky Bastard. And now he's known as, Hangman because he leaves his fellow pilots hanging."

"Something tells me that he won't be like that now," Maverick chuckled.

"What do you mean?"

Before he could ask me, someone came jogging toward us.

"They're ready for your announcement, sir."

"Of course," Maverick nodded. He started to walk away but stopped. He turned back and answered, "He won't be Hangman with you here."

* * * * *

I stepped into the back of the room, my eyes instantly finding Jake. It was like he sensed I was there because he turned around almost instantly. He sent me a smile and a teasing wink. I rolled my eyes and made a spinning motion with my finger, telling him to turn back around.

As Admiral Soloman and Maverick walked into the room, the tension and mood in the room shifted. My eyes glanced back at Jake's head.

"It has been an honor flying with you," Maverick said. "Each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that and nothing more."

"Choose your two Foxtrot teams," Admiral Simpson instructed.

"Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob."

"And your wingman," Admiral Beau added.

"Rooster."

My heart jumped into my throat as my eyes darted to Jake. I couldn't see his expression but I worried about what he would be thinking.

"The rest of you will stand by on the carrier for any reserve role that's required," Admiral Simpson instructed.

"Dismissed."

I waited to catch Jake's eyes as he left but he kept his head down. I quickly left, trying to find him. When I did, he was over by his plane. I held my breath as I walked up behind him.

"Are you okay?" I asked once I had found my voice. When he looked at me, it wasn't what I expected. I thought he'd be angry, but he wasn't.

"I am," he said with what looks like a smile on his face.

"Really?"

"Really," he nodded honestly. He grabbed my waist and pulled me into him.

"But I thought you'd be angry," I said under my breath.

"Why would I be angry?" He chuckled. "I get to stay on the boat. With you."

Part 2

#glen powell #glen powell fanfic #glen powell imagines #top gun: Maverick #hangman #jake hangman fic #top gun hangman

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keehomania · 9 months ago

Text

business proposal (제안서) — kim seokjin (김석진)

✧.* 18+

a closer look reveals the hidden multitude of narcissists roaming freely across the earth. they moved through life as ordinary figures—doctors, lawyers—sharing the same vulnerability of human blood. yet, there lingered a belief in their superiority, an unspoken arrogance. among them, businessmen appeared to embody that conceit most profoundly.

kim enterprises had the value of 1.5 billion won. a leading technology firm specializing in cutting-edge ai solutions and smart home devices. founded on the principles of advancing human-technology synergy, the company designs state-of-the-art gadgets that seamlessly integrate with daily life. under the visionary leadership of kim seokjin, the president’s son, the company has gained a reputation for pushing boundaries and setting new industry standards. currently, it lies at the forefront of revolutionizing smart technology, with a diverse portfolio ranging from intelligent automation systems to next-generation personal assistants.

impressive, really. it'd have been much more impressive if he was as likeable as his company. he was a narcissist in the purest form, no matter how much he cared for the company and his employees. only because no care would amount to the kind he put into himself.

the company had been running smoothly under his care for nine years, as his father had fallen ill and was unable to sustain it on his own. he knew he was making the right decision when he deemed seokjin the next heir, the next in control. he was smart, charming, persuasive. he knew every corner and end of a business deal, how to tie the knots and when to cut off loose ends.

“kim, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. i must say, kim enterprises has been on our radar for quite some time.” seokjin shook his hand firmly, returning the smile. “the pleasure is mine, james. i've been following your company’s progress closely as well. it’s impressive how you’ve carved out a niche in ai development.”

james’s eyes lit up. “thank you. we’re particularly interested in your smart home integration systems. from what i understand, your latest model has seen a significant uptick in market share.” seokjin’s smile widened, “yes, our quantum series has been a game-changer. we’ve seen a 30% increase in market penetration over the past year. the integration of adaptive ai has really resonated with consumers, allowing for a more intuitive user experience.”

james nodded, clearly pleased. “exactly. that’s why we’re keen on a partnership. our research indicates that your technology complements our upcoming product line perfectly. what terms are you envisioning for this deal?” seokjin considered the question thoughtfully. “given the scope of the integration and the potential for cross-promotion, i’d suggest a revenue-sharing model. we propose a 60-40 split in favor of kim enterprises for the first two years. this would allow us to leverage your distribution network while providing you with a substantial stake in the revenue generated.”

james raised an eyebrow, thoughtful. “that’s a fair proposition. but considering the development and marketing costs, how about adjusting the split to 50-50 initially, with a performance-based adjustment thereafter?” seokjin weighed the offer, then nodded. “i see your point. let’s compromise at 55-45, with a performance review after the first year to reassess the terms. we can draft a detailed agreement to reflect this.”

james’s expression softened into one of admiration. “agreed. your understanding of both the technology and market dynamics is impressive, kim. it’s clear you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

seokjin’s eyes sparkled with resolve. “thank you, james. i believe in building partnerships that are beneficial for both sides. our goal is not just to expand our market presence but to also deliver exceptional value through innovative collaborations.” james raised his glass with a smile. “well said. i look forward to working with you. let’s toast to a successful partnership.”

he truly was a natural, he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. however, even if he was reluctant to admit it, he couldn't have done it on his own.

you navigated the room with a calm, poised demeanor, your sharp eyes scanning for any potential issues or tasks that needed attention. you approached seokjin with a subtle nod, a tablet in hand. he acknowledged the gesture, his eyes flickering with appreciation. “i’ve just received the finalized draft of the agreement,” you said quietly, sliding the tablet over to him. “i made sure to include the revised revenue split and the performance review clause you discussed with james.”

he glanced at the document, his expression approving. “perfect timing. you’ve captured all the necessary details. thanks for handling this so efficiently.” james, intrigued, looked at you. “i must say, it’s clear that you play a crucial role in ensuring everything runs smoothly. your attention to detail must be invaluable.”

you smiled modestly. “thank you, james. it’s my job to make sure that the priorities are met and that every aspect of our deal is thoroughly managed. it’s a pleasure to contribute to the success of our partnerships.” as you stepped back, you made a quick call to coordinate a follow-up meeting with the legal team, ensuring that all paperwork would be processed without delay. your presence was a testament to the meticulous planning that underpinned seokjin's success.

although he was the brains behind the operation, you were the one that made sure the operation was in action. you coordinated all of his appointments and travel arrangements, handled all of his phone calls, drafted all of the reports and presentations, organized all of the meetings, supported all of the projects, and so much more. you were good at your job, and you loved it.

it was one of the many reasons why that same night, in the back of seokjin's limo, he had met your words with a look of horror displayed on his face. you remained stoic as you adjusted the hem of your dress, pushing your hair past your shoulder before meeting his gaze once more. “you want to quit?” you nodded in confirmation. the question itself held more shock than intended, but he couldn't help it. your announcement had put a dent in the night. you had been his left hand for exactly nine years and, out of the blue, you had announced that you were ready to leave the company.

the city lights blurred past the windows as you sat in the back of seokjin's sleek, black limousine. the leather seats were soft beneath you, but there was tension in the air that makes you sit a little straighter, hands folded tightly in your lap. seokjin was beside you, scrolling through his phone with a practiced ease, oblivious to the storm brewing in your mind.

“it's personal,” you explained, trying to keep your tone even. “i have some matters in my life that need my full attention right now.” he stared at you, disbelief etched on his features. “after nine years? just like that?”

“i'm sorry,” you said, your heart aching with each word. “but it's something i have to do.” seokjin's jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly. “if that's your decision, i won't stand in your way.” the rest of the ride passed in heavy silence, the atmosphere between you both laden with unspoken words and shared sorrow. you could only gaze at the fleeting cars through the window, oblivious to the hurt etched into what was supposed to be his stoic expression.

that night, he found himself tossing and turning in his grand, empty bed. sleep eluded him, chased away by a persistent nightmare. in it, he saw a woman with long, black hair, her back always turned to him. no matter how much he called out and cried, she never looked back, slipping further away with each step. he woke up in a cold sweat, the image of the woman haunting him. the clock beside his bed read that it was only four o'clock. frustrated and unsettled, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the sense of impending loss.

the following morning, he stood in front of the mirror in his expansive bedroom, the morning light filtering through the curtains. his shirt was buttoned, but his tie lies undone around his neck. he waited, as he always did, for you. when you arrived, your expression was composed, professional. "good morning, vice chairman."

he nodded, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “morning, secretary (y/n).” you stepped forward, deftly tying his tie with practiced hands, the sound of your name stinging more than necessary. the proximity, once a simple part of your routine, now felt charged with the weight of your impending departure.

he gazed at himself in the mirror, his ego surfacing as a way to mask his vulnerability. “do you see that? the beauty?” you glanced at the mirror, assuming he meant the sunlight casting a golden glow across the room. “yes, the sunrise is beautiful.” a faint smirk touched his lips. “no, not the sunrise. me. my aura.”

you suppressed a sigh, knowing that it was nothing but the the standard for him. “yes, very dazzling, vice chairman.” satisfied, he turned away from the mirror and straightened his suit jacket. “let's go. we have breakfast at my parents' house.”

the drive to the kim family estate was quiet, the earlier tension replaced by a heavy resignation. seokjin's family home was grand, an imposing structure surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens. inside, you were greeted by his mother, her warm smile a stark contrast to the austere demeanor of the chairman. “good morning, hyeon. (y/n), it's always a pleasure to see you.”

“good morning, mother,” seokjin replied, his tone polite yet distant. the chairman nodded at you both, his presence commanding respect. “let's eat.”

breakfast was a formal affair, the table laden with an array of traditional dishes. conversation was polite, centered around business and family matters. seokjin's parents were unaware of your decision to leave, and you caught seokjin's gaze more than once, a silent understanding passing between you. as the meal progressed, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. that world, so intertwined with his, had been your life for nearly a decade. leaving it behind wouldn't be easy.

breakfast ended, and the chairman suggested that he and his son retire to the study room for a private discussion. you followed his mother to the sitting room, where she invited you to join her for tea. she was a gracious host, her demeanor warm and inviting. “how have you been, sweetheart? it feels like forever since we had a proper chat,” she said, pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups.

you smiled, taking the offered cup. “i've been well, mrs. kim. thank you.” her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “tell me, what do you think about my hyeon? he talks about you often.”

you paused, considering your words carefully. you knew she was an older lady, so you didn't question the way she misnamed him. her memory had probably grown shabby. “he's an exceptional leader, very dedicated to his work. it's been an honor to work with him.” she nodded, her smile widening. “yes, he's always been very driven. but tell me, is my son seeing anyone? he never mentions these things to me.”

you shook your head. “despite all the girls around him, he's not dating anyone.” mrs. kim's eyes widened in horror. “he's not— gay, is he?”

you stifled a laugh, shaking your head again. “no, mrs. kim, he's not. he's just very focused on his work.” she sighed in relief, placing a hand over her heart. “thank goodness. it would be wonderful for him to finally get a girlfriend. he's not getting any younger, you know.” you couldn't help but wonder at her words. the idea of him with someone else felt oddly unsettling.

in the study room, seokjin's father, chairman kim, sat behind an imposing oak desk, his expression stern. “i heard a rumor, seokjin. (y/n) is quitting?” his jaw tightened, but he met his father's gaze steadily. “it's true. but i won't let it happen.”

chairman kim raised an eyebrow. “and how do you plan to stop it?” seokjin's voice was firm. “i'll find a way to convince her to stay. she's indispensable to me.”

a moment of silence passed before chairman kim's lips twitched into a faint smile. “are you dating her?” seokjin blinked, momentarily taken aback. “no, father, i'm not.”

the chairman feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. “oh, i feel faint. my son, the great seokjin, not dating his perfect secretary.” he rolled his eyes, a rare display of exasperation. “i've seen your medical records, father. you're perfectly healthy.”

chairman kim waved a dismissive hand. “you should do your father a favor and find a wife, give us grandchildren. it's time you settled down.” seokjin sighed, the weight of his father's words lingering. he had never been in a relationship, and neither had you. it was one of the reasons you knew you had to quit. your life revolved around your work, as did his. only, you weren't satisfied with that. it wasn't that he wasn't attracted to anybody, because he was, but nothing mattered more than his craft. he felt off about women touching him, in any case. it made him anxious, and brought up memories he fought to keep hidden.

you and seokjin departed for the office, the morning sun casting long shadows across the driveway as the car pulled away from the estate. the ride was initially silent, both of you lost in thought. he finally broke the silence, “what exactly did you mean by personal matters?” his tone was careful, almost hesitant.

you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i'm looking to settle down, vice chairman. i want to get married, have children.” he fell silent, the weight of your words settling over him. the rest of the ride to the office was steeped in an unusual quiet, your declaration hanging in the air like a specter.

upon arriving at the office, he moved through the halls in a daze. his usual commanding presence seemed diminished, his mind clearly elsewhere. he entered his office, finding his younger intern already there. “good morning, vice chairman,” jungkook greeted cheerfully, his youthful energy a contrast to seokjin's subdued demeanor.

he barely acknowledged him, slumping into his chair. jungkook, sensing something was off, leaned forward with a curious smile. “you look like you've seen a ghost. what's up?” seokjin rubbed his temples, sighing. “it's secretary (l/n). she wants to quit.”

jungkook raised an eyebrow. “oh? did you try offering her a promotion, bigger pay, fewer working hours?” he nodded in response. “i did. she dismissed it all. said she wants to settle down, get married, have children.”

jungkook's eyes twinkled with mischief. “and that shocked you?” seokjin glared at him, but his grin remained unshaken. “why does it bother you so much, vice chairman? do you like her more than just a secretary?” the question lingered in the air, met with silence. his mind raced, trying to comprehend why your decision affected him so deeply. he couldn't deny the pang of jealousy at the thought of you with someone else, starting a life that didn't include him.

jungkook leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “maybe it's time to ask yourself why her leaving matters so much to you.” he remained quiet, lost in thought. How could marriage and a family be more important than the bond you shared with him? the realization struck him hard—perhaps it wasn't just about losing an exceptional secretary. maybe, just maybe, it was about losing you.

a knock on the door disrupted the tense silence between the two men. you entered, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and three cookies on the side, exactly how seokjin liked it. the aroma of the tea briefly lightened the atmosphere. he looked up, his expression softening momentarily at the sight of you. “thank you, secretary (l/n).”

you placed the tray on the table, pouring a cup of tea for him and setting it in on his desk. “i've sent out emails looking for a future secretary. one of the primary candidates is on her way.” jungkook observed the way his face twisted with hurt at your words. despite the pain evident in his eyes, seokjin maintained his composure. “join us while we wait for her.”

you nodded, taking a seat beside the young intern. the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock. seokjin sipped his tea, the familiar taste doing little to ease his troubled mind.

a few minutes later, the door opened, and a young woman entered. she had a bright, cheerful demeanor, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “hello, i'm jung keulgi. it's an honor to be here.” seokjin straightened, adopting his usual authoritative posture. “miss jung, are you ready to devote yourself to a perfect company?” she beamed. “absolutely! i'm very excited for this opportunity.”

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the narcissistic question. “are you prepared to handle working for someone with an ego as big as the company?” keulgi sensed the underlying tension but maintained her cheerful facade. “i'm sure i'll manage.”

seokjin continued, his tone growing sharper. “will you stay devoted instead of quitting due to silly things like personal matters?” the tension in the room escalated. you snapped, unable to hold back any longer. “are you done, vice chairman?”

his eyes flashed with anger. “about as done as you are, secretary (l/n).” keulgi, clearly uncomfortable but trying to stay positive, interjected softly, “if you hire me, i'll do my best.”

seokjin didn't take his eyes off you as he replied, “you're hired.” as he turned to you, his voice was cold and demanding. “you have a month to turn her into your carbon copy. after that, do as you please.” the room fell silent once more as the weight of his words settled over you. keulgi glanced between you and him, her cheerful demeanor now tinged with apprehension.

he stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “that will be all for now. welcome to kim enterprises, miss jung.” she nodded, offering a hesitant smile. “thank you, vice chairman.”

as she left the room, you remained seated, the gravity of your situation sinking in. seokjin's harsh command echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of the rift that had formed between you. jungkook, sensing the need for a distraction, cleared his throat. “well, this is going to be interesting.”

seokjin shot him a glare. “you're dismissed, jungkook.” with a playful salute, he left the room, leaving you and him alone once more. the silence was heavy, filled with the unspoken emotions and unresolved tension. he finally broke the silence, his voice softer but still edged with hurt. “you can have the rest of the day off.”

you glanced up at him in disbelief, but you weren't willing to argue any further. all you could do was nod and bow before leaving the room. he was alone, once more. he couldn't do anything but watch as you left, gulping as if to hold himself back from calling out your name. you could train all the candidates in the world, yet it would never be the same.

you stood at your kitchen sink, washing the last of the dinner dishes as the sun set, casting a warm orange glow through the window. the evening was peaceful, the kind of tranquility you had been craving. as you dried your hands and prepared to head to bed, the sudden blare of a car horn startled you. peeking out the window, you saw seokjin standing next to his sleek black car, looking up at your house.

heart pounding with a mix of surprise and curiosity, you hurried outside. “vice chairman? is everything okay?” he shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. “no emergencies, secretary (l/n). i just needed to see you.” you frowned, puzzled. “at this hour? what's so urgent?”

his eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “are you serious about quitting to settle down?” you nodded, feeling a familiar pang of sadness. “i am. i'm ready to put all my attention on a relationship.”

his expression shifted, the gravity of your words sinking in. he took a deep breath, and then, to your astonishment, he did the unthinkable. he dropped to one knee and pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring.

“marry me, secretary (l/n). i'm rich, handsome, and more than capable of giving you everything you want.” you stared at him, completely taken aback. his usual confidence seemed both reassuring and out of place in this moment. he continued, his voice earnest, almost pleading. “i'm perfect for you. accept my proposal.”

his words hung in the air as you tried to process what was happening. finally, you leaned in close, your face inches from his, and inhaled deeply. seokjin's heart stopped, anticipation flickering in his eyes. but instead of a kiss, you pulled back, your expression skeptical.

“are you drunk, vice chairman?” he blinked, clearly taken aback. “no, i'm sober. i'm serious.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i believe you. but vice chairman, i don't want a perfect life with a perfect man. i just want to be with an ordinary guy from an ordinary family.” his face fell, his confident facade crumbling. “why not me? i'm perfect!”

you smiled, despite the annoyance of his narcissistic words clawing at your nerves, and you chose the easy way out. assuring him that he was nothing but flawless was the only way to get him to stop talking about it. “that's exactly why. you deserve someone who sees you that way, but it's not me.” the rejection hung heavy between you as you turned and walked back into your house, leaving him kneeling in the fading light.

the following day, he recounted the entire incident to jungkook, who listened with wide eyes. when he finally finished, the intern burst into laughter, unable to contain himself despite the glares from his boss.

“vice chairman, you can't just propose out of the blue like that, this isn't the eighteenth century,” jungkook said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

his frown deepened, but he couldn't argue with jungkook's logic. “so, what should i have done, then?” he shrugged, still grinning. “maybe start by asking her on a date? get to know her outside of work. build a relationship first. you can't skip straight to marriage, no matter how perfect you think you are.”

the elder mulled over his words, realizing the truth in them. he had acted impulsively, driven by a fear of losing you, but dating? he was actively unfamiliar with the entire thing. in fact, he thought it was pointless. nothing but a waste of time, but if it meant stopping you from quitting, maybe it was wasting time in the best way possible.

you sat in your office, typing away at your computer, but your mind kept drifting back to the previous night. the image of your boss on one knee, his earnest proposal, and your subsequent rejection played on a loop in your head. the weight of your decision and its implications loomed large.

“hey, (y/n),” a familiar voice broke through your thoughts. you looked up to see kim namjoon, the head of finances, standing at your desk. his expression was a mix of concern and curiosity. “is it true? are you really leaving?” you offered him a kind smile and nodded. “yes, namjoon. it's true.”

the news seemed to ripple through the office. baekhyun and sooyoung, who were nearby, immediately voiced their protests. “you can't be serious!” baekhyun exclaimed, his usually cheerful demeanor clouded with disappointment. sooyoung nodded vigorously. “yeah, you've been here forever! what are we going to do without you?”

keulgi, who had been quietly observing, chimed in. “i've heard so much about your amazing work. it's going to be hard to fill your shoes.” you felt a pang of guilt but tried to reassure them with a smile on your face. “we'll all stay in touch. it's not like i'm disappearing.”

sooyoung then brightened, a mischievous glint in her eye. “how about we have a dinner after work? to welcome keulgi and to honor your nine years of hard work.” you hesitated, not wanting to make a big deal out of your departure. but keulgi's encouraging smile swayed you. “come on, it would be nice.” with a reluctant smile, you agreed.

the moment was cut short as the door to the office opened and seokjin walked in. the room fell silent, all eyes turning to him. he let the silence hang for a moment before speaking, his gaze locked onto yours. “am i invited to this dinner as well?” the tension was palpable. baekhyun hesitated before responding, glancing around at the others. “of course, vice chairman. you're welcome to join us.”

seokjin's smile was tight as he nodded. “very well. i'll see you all there.” he left the room as suddenly as he had entered, leaving your heart heavy with unspoken emotions. namjoon broke the silence, his tone light but his words carrying weight. “is it just me, or did it suddenly get cold in here?” the others murmured their agreement, exchanging glances.

“i don't know what's going on,” baekhyun said, shaking his head. “but he's been awfully on edge lately.” you remained silent, the weight of your decision and seokjin's reaction pressing heavily on your mind. the upcoming dinner promised to be an eventful one, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it would also be pivotal in the worst way possible.

you stood in front of your mirror, giving yourself a once-over. you had opted for a casual outfit, perfect for the laid-back atmosphere of the local barbeque spot where your colleagues were hosting your farewell dinner. just as you were adjusting your hair, a loud honk interrupted your thoughts. curiosity piqued, you peered out the window to see none other than seokjin, leaning against his car, looking as out of place in your neighborhood as a peacock in a flock of pigeons.

you opened the window and leaned out. “what are you doing here?” he glanced up, a smirk playing on his lips. “i'm not here to propose again, if that's what you're worried about. i'm here to pick you up.” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “why?”

“isn't it so ordinary of me to go with my coworkers?” he replied, clearly pleased with himself. you shook your head, amusement dancing in your eyes. “yes, well done, vice chairman. give me a minute.”

you grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. as you stepped outside, you noticed his attire—an expensive suit that screamed high-end fashion. you stifled a laugh, knowing he would stand out like a sore thumb at the spot you had all agreed on. nonetheless, you entertained his gesture and got into the car. the drive was filled with light conversation, mostly about work and the upcoming transition. despite the casual nature of the evening, you could sense his effort to blend in, which you found oddly endearing. when you arrived at the restaurant, the familiar scent of grilled meat and beer wafted through the air, making seokjin's face contort in mild disgust. you chuckled at his reaction. “welcome to the real world, vice chairman.”

inside, your colleagues greeted you warmly, their eyes widening in surprise when they saw their boss. he maintained his composure, though you could see his discomfort. at the table, he attempted to take charge. “what's everyone drinking?” he asked, clearly expecting a sophisticated answer. “perhaps an old variation of whisky?”

a stunned silence fell over the group, everyone staring at him in disbelief. you nervously laughed. “they only serve beer and soju here, vice chairman.” for a moment, you expected him to bristle at the lack of his preferred drink. instead, he stifled a sigh and nodded. “beer it is, then.”

as the evening progressed, you found yourself reminiscing. it had been nine years since you first joined kim enterprises, and you vividly remembered celebrating your first day in this very spot. you were drinking beer when a younger seokjin had approached you, his demeanor confident and slightly arrogant. “do you know who i am?” he'd asked, and you'd honestly had no clue. little did you know back then just how egotistical he was.

now, years later, you watched him attempt to navigate this ordinary setting. as the night wore on, you noticed the subtle signs of him getting tipsy. his cheeks flushed, his laughter louder and more uninhibited. eventually, you decided it was time to call it a night. “i think i should take him home,” you said, standing up.

your colleagues protested, but you promised to make it up to them. they relented, and you guided a slightly unsteady seokjin to his car. the drive to his house was quiet, his head leaning back against the seat, eyes half-closed.

when you arrived, you helped him inside, supporting his weight as you guided him to his bedroom. you gently eased him onto the bed, intending to leave as soon as he was settled. but just as you were about to turn away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto the bed. you fell on top of him, your faces inches apart. his eyes, though slightly glazed, held a seriousness that made your heart race. “pretty ordinary of me to get drunk off beer, right?” he slurred, a lazy smile on his lips. your breath caught in your throat. “yes, very ordinary.”

“thank you, secretary (l/n),” he mumbled, his eyes closing. he fell asleep almost instantly, his grip on your wrist loosening. you stayed there for a moment, your heart pounding, before carefully tucking him in. you watched him for a few seconds longer, your emotions a whirlwind. finally, you tore yourself away, quietly leaving his house and heading home, your mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings you couldn't quite name.

the following morning, you arrived at the office early, keen to begin the handover process with keulgi. the usual hustle and bustle of the workplace greeted you, but today there was an undercurrent of anticipation and anxiety. it was the beginning of your final month at kim enterprises, and you wanted to ensure everything transitioned smoothly.

as you were explaining the intricacies of the office dynamics to keulgi, seokjin entered, looking visibly worse for wear. he massaged his temples, clearly nursing a headache from the previous night. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. you followed him into his office, where he promptly sank into his chair, wincing slightly.

“good morning, vice chairman,” you greeted, trying to keep your tone professional despite your concern. “morning,” he muttered, barely looking up.

despite your concern, you exited the office, re-joining keulgi in order to show her around. “so, these are the folders you'll need to keep track of—client files, project updates, and financial reports. everything is color-coded for easy access. emails are prioritized into high, medium, and low urgency. make sure to flag anything that needs immediate attention.”

she nodded, absorbing the information. “got it. and what about his schedule?” you handed her a tablet with his meticulously planned itinerary. “his schedule is very tight. make sure to coordinate with all department heads and external partners. he's very particular about his meetings being on time.”

as you continued the walkthrough, keulgi mentioned, “oh, by the way, i noticed one of the legs on his chair was falling apart, so i put it together with some cables.” your eyes widened in shock, “what kind of cables?”

“rubber cables,” she replied, confusion etched on her face at your reaction. your heart sank. without another word, you rushed into seokjin's office, your pulse racing. the sight that greeted you confirmed your worst fears. he was on the floor, shaking, his head in his hands, his entire demeanor shattered.

“vice chairman!” you cried out, rushing to his side. “i'm so sorry, she didn't know—” he didn't respond, his breathing erratic. you quickly reached for the chair and cut off the rubber cables. the moment they were gone, his shaking subsided, though his face remained pale and his expression haunted. keulgi, realizing the gravity of the situation, joined in the apologies, her voice frantic. ”i'm so sorry, vice chairman. i didn't know—“

seokjin's gaze was ice cold as he finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something you couldn't quite place. “is this how you're carrying out your duties, secretary (l/n)?” you stood there, stunned and silent. the warmth and camaraderie of the previous night seemed like a distant memory. his words cut through you like a knife, and for the first time, you had no response.

seokjin struggled to his feet, regaining his composure with great effort. “leave,” he commanded quietly, the tension in his voice unmistakable. you and keulgi hurried out of the office, the weight of the incident heavy on your shoulders. outside, you tried to reassure her, but the shock of your boss's reaction lingered.

inside his office, he sat down once again, burying his face in his hands. he mentally cursed himself for his harsh words. his eyes fell on the rubber cables now discarded in the trash can, and a shudder ran through him. memories he'd fought to bury resurfaced, and he struggled to push them back down. the trauma, long kept at bay, clawed its way to the surface. he knew he had overreacted, and he hated himself for it. he had to apologize to you, but the thought of facing you after what had just happened seemed insurmountable. how could he explain the depth of his fear, the reason for his reaction? for now, he could only sit there, the remnants of his vulnerability on display, hoping he hadn't irrevocably damaged the fragile relationship he had with you.

he sat behind his expansive mahogany desk, its polished surface reflecting the ambient light filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. the cityscape of seoul lay sprawled out behind him, but his attention was far from the view. instead, his eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at the stack of documents in front of him. his mind was elsewhere, fixated on the conversation he'd had with his intern just days ago.

jungkook, seated opposite to him with his laptop open, was discussing the final preparations for the launch of their new art gallery. the young intern's enthusiasm was palpable, his voice animated as he detailed the latest developments, the artists who had confirmed their participation, and the final touches needed for the grand opening. but despite his energetic briefing, seokjin's mind kept wandering back to a single, pivotal point in their earlier exchange.

“you can't just propose out of the blue,” jungkook had laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “you need to take it slow. ask her out on a date first.”

seokjin's usually sharp mind was dulled by the weight of those words. proposing had seemed like a logical solution to him. a clear, decisive action to keep you from leaving. but now, in the wake of jungkook's advice, he realized how absurd it must have seemed. how uncharacteristically rash and desperate. the thought of asking you out on a date, a simple date, felt strangely daunting.

“vice chairman? are you listening?” jungkook's voice cut through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. he blinked, forcing his attention back to his intern. “yes, jungkook. i'm listening. the gallery—” he trailed off, struggling to find the thread of their conversation.

he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “the gallery launch is on track. but you don't seem very interested today. is something on your mind?” he sighed in response, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. he prided himself on his composed and unflappable demeanor, but today, he felt anything but. “it's nothing. just some personal matters, as some would say.” he couldn't bare to focus on the project at hand. no, in fact, he was ready to execute a project of his own.

the soft hum of conversation and clinking of cutlery filled the air as you and your friends settled into a cozy corner booth at a chic restaurant. the atmosphere was relaxed, with warm lighting and comfortable seating that made it perfect for a catch-up lunch. your girlfriends were animated and full of news, and you found yourself caught between genuine happiness for them and a pang of wistful longing.

one of your friends, jiho, was regaling the table with stories about her recent wedding. her eyes sparkled with joy as she described the ceremony, the heartfelt vows, and the beautiful reception. you smiled and applauded her enthusiasm, but inside, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. the idea of finding such happiness seemed elusive, and your heart ached slightly at the thought.

“you're going to love being married,” jiho said, her voice full of contentment. "it’s just wonderful." you nodded, offering a supportive smile. “i'm so happy for you, jiho. it sounds like it was a perfect day.”

as she continued sharing details, your other friend, minji, leaned in, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “speaking of perfect days,” she began, “i have something to tell you. my husband’s friend saw your profile on social media and, well, he’s been asking about you.”

your heart skipped a beat. minji's husband had been a close friend of yours for years, but you had no idea who the friend in question was. the idea of someone from his circle showing interest was both flattering and daunting. “what’s he like?” you asked cautiously. minji grinned. “he’s a nice guy, charming and successful. i think you’d get along. how about we set up a blind date?”

you hesitated. the idea of a blind date was daunting, but the prospect of meeting someone new, especially someone vetted by friends, was appealing. you glanced at your friends' eager faces and took a deep breath. “okay, i’ll do it.” minji clapped her hands excitedly. “great! i'll set it up and let you know the details.”

just as the conversation shifted to wedding anecdotes and dating possibilities, a cheerful waitress approached your table with a friendly smile. “excuse me, ladies,” she said. “we’re conducting a survey to improve our service and, in exchange, we’d like to offer you a free appetizer. would you be interested?” your friends, always up for a little extra perk, agreed enthusiastically, and you followed suit. the waitress handed over a clipboard with a short survey and left to fetch the appetizer.

thu looked over the questions with mild curiosity. the first asked, “ideal date spot with your significant other?” the second, “ideal activities with significant other?” and the last, “ideal gift given by significant other?” you answered thoughtfully, trying to balance your idealistic dreams with the reality of your current situation. as you finished filling out the survey and handed it back to the waitress, you felt a slight nagging sense of familiarity with the tone of the questions. they seemed familiarly bosay and demanding, almost like they were trying to gauge your relationship ideals with a hint of urgency. but you brushed off the feeling, focusing instead on the excitement of the impending blind date and the lively conversation with your friends.

in the dimly lit rec room of seokjin's luxurious house, the soft clack of pool balls punctuated the otherwise quiet evening. jungkook lounged on the leather sofa, his gaze fixed on him, who was confidently taking shots at the pool table with practiced ease. the game seemed to serve as a backdrop for their conversation, but jungkook's attention was focused on the stack of papers spread out on the coffee table.

“you did what?” his voice was a mix of incredulity and disbelief as he stared at the surveys before him. the questions and answers were neatly recorded on the forms, and jungkook couldn't believe what he was seeing. seokjin, with a proud smirk, took another shot, his movements graceful and deliberate. “i paid the restaurant to hand out those surveys,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “i wanted to see what kind of answer i'd get. and now, i need you to find the one with her name on it.”

jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “you’re seriously crazy, this is way over the top.” ignoring the incredulous glares from his elder, he picked up the stack of surveys and began sifting through them. his hands moved quickly, flipping through each paper as he muttered under his breath. “this is insane. what are you trying to accomplish?”

seokjin, meanwhile, remained focused on his game, the smirk never leaving his face. his confidence was unwavering, but jungkook could sense a trace of anxious anticipation beneath the surface. after what felt like an eternity to him, he finally spotted the survey with your name. he held it up, slightly hesitant. “here it is. this is the one.”

his eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and triumph. he rushed over, snatching the paper from his hands with a deft movement. his gaze was fixed on the survey, and as he read through your answers, his smirk broadened into a genuine, if somewhat smug, smile.

“how childish,” he remarked aloud, his voice laced with a blend of amusement and satisfaction. he began reading your responses aloud with a playful tone. “ideal date spot: an amusement park. ideal activities: rides, very charming. ideal gift: a teddy bear.” jungkook watched, his initial skepticism replaced by bemused curiosity. “seriously? you’re actually taking this seriously?” he had never been more serious.

the call came just after you wrapped up your brief lunch with your friends, the sound of seokjin’s voice crackling through the speaker, urgent and commanding. “you need to meet me immediately,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. he gave you the coordinates, and you found yourself driving across town with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. arriving at the amusement park, you were surprised to see it eerily quiet and closed for the night. you sat on a bench near the entrance, trying to piece together what he could have possibly wanted in such an unconventional setting. the minutes ticked by slowly until seokjin finally appeared, stepping out of the darkness with his usual confident stride.

“what’s going on?” you asked, rising from the bench to meet him. “why did you bring me here?” his eyes twinkled with a secretive glint. “we’re going to be here for the night. i have a ‘free pass,’ so to speak.”

you blinked, puzzled. “a free pass? but the park is closed.” seokjin simply smiled, taking your hand and leading you towards the entrance. “just follow me.”

as you walked through the empty park, the moonlight casting long shadows across the deserted grounds, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. he guided you to one of the rollercoasters, and despite your protests, he insisted on riding it first. the rollercoaster roared to life, and as you climbed higher and higher, your heart raced with a blend of thrill and terror. when the ride finally came to a stop, you were visibly shaken, your hands still gripping the safety bar as if it were your lifeline.

he turned to you, his face stoic but his eyes searching. “did you have fun?” you hesitated, your voice trembling. “it was fun, i guess.”

he raised an eyebrow, sensing your unease. “why do you seem so hesitant?” you sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “it was too scary. i wasn’t expecting it to be so intense.” he looked at you with a mixture of concern and amusement. “then why did you go on it?”

“because you asked me to,” you admitted. a smile curved his lips, and he quickly shifted gears. “alright then, let’s go on rides you want to enjoy.” your face lit up with relief and excitement. you led him towards the merry-go-round, and as the ride spun in gentle circles, you felt a wave of childhood nostalgia. you waved enthusiastically, feeling the pure joy of the moment. he watched you, his gaze softening as he took in your happiness.

the merry-go-round went around seven times, and as you disembarked, you couldn’t stop smiling. seokjin then guided you into the park’s restaurant. to your surprise, the place was completely empty.

“what’s all of this?” you asked, glancing around in awe. he shrugged casually. “i rented everything out for the night. consider it a going-away present.”

your heart fluttered at his gesture. “thank you, vice chairman.” he smiled, slicing a steak and placing it in front of you. as you dug into the meal, he glanced at you with genuine interest. “why did you enjoy the merry-go-round so much?”

you hesitated, then opened up. “it was one of my favorite rides as a child. i used to watch it from afar, because my parents never had the money to let me actually ride it.” hiw expression softened, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. “i'm sorry to hear that.”

the meal continued in a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional clinking of cutlery. after you finished, hw told you there was one more surprise. “just be patient,” he said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. curious, you followed him outside to a spot overlooking the sea. As you waited, the crackling sound of fireworks filled the air, bursting into vibrant colors against the night sky. your eyes widened with delight as you watched the display.

“isn’t it pretty?” you asked, turning to seokjin. his gaze was fixed on you, not the fireworks. “beautiful,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.

the car ride back was filled with a charged silence. as you stared out the window, a memory of the survey and its bossy tone flashed in your mind. you turned to Seokjin, your eyes wide with realization. he looked at you with a smug smile, clearly enjoying the surprise. before you could ask more, the car pulled up to your home. he exited and opened your door, handing you a large, stuffed teddy bear from the trunk. you were overwhelmed with gratitude and, in a moment of pure joy, you hugged your boss tightly.

to your astonishment, he hugged you back, his embrace warm and reassuring. as you pulled away, both of you were so close. too close for comfort. you knew better, stopping yourself as you glanced at the time. “it’s getting late,” you said softly. he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. “good night. i'll see you in the morning.”

the morning sun streamed through your bedroom window, casting a gentle glow over the room as you prepared for another day at work. you had almost forgotten about the stuffed teddy bear seokjin had gifted you the night before. as you reached for it, something shifted inside its pocket. curiosity piqued, you reached in and pulled out a small, elegant box.

opening it carefully, you found a delicate silver necklace inside. the intricate design and glint of the metal took your breath away. you were momentarily stunned, not expecting such a thoughtful gift. after a moment of hesitation, you decided to keep the necklace. you slipped it into your pocket, planning to wear it later.

at the office, you settled at your desk, the necklace still weighing on your mind. as you worked, you fished it out of your pocket and admired it, the silver catching the light. unbeknownst to you, he was watching from his office across the hall. his gaze softened as he observed you, a small, admiring smile on his lips. the sight of you, glowing with a mix of wonder and appreciation, made him think how gorgeous you were.

you finished adjusting the necklace around your neck, and as you headed to the bathroom, your phone rang. it was minji, her voice excited and insistent. “hey, i was just wondering if you’re still up for that blind date with my friend today? i know it’s short notice, but he’s really looking forward to it!”

it took a moment for the reminder to hit you. the blind date slipped your mind amidst the whirlwind of yesterday’s events. you agreed, albeit with some reluctance. “sure, i’ll meet him. just let me know the details.” as you entered the bathroom, keulgi emerged from a stall behind you, startling you. she had apparently overheard your conversation.

“are you going on a date?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise and curiosity. caught off guard, you nodded, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “yes, but please keep it quiet.” keulgi, ever enthusiastic, promised to keep it to herself. however, her enthusiasm got the better of her. as soon as you left the bathroom, she couldn't resist sharing the news with the rest of the office.

when you returned to your desk, the atmosphere in the office had noticeably shifted. colleagues whispered excitedly and shot you curious glances. the office buzzed with the news of your impending date. seokjin, who had been outside his office listening to the commotion, seethed with jealousy. his earlier soft smile had vanished, replaced by a scowl that betrayed his irritation. he paced back and forth, trying to control his frustration.

the excitement and chatter from your colleagues did nothing to ease his anger. his mind raced with thoughts of the date and the implications of your newfound interest. he couldn’t shake the feeling of possessiveness that gnawed at him, and the thought of someone else taking you out only fueled his frustration. the more he listened to the enthusiastic reactions of his staff, the more he felt his grip on his emotions slipping. he knew he needed to act, but he was caught between his pride and the undeniable feelings he had been trying to cast away.

the date began at a quaint, upscale café, where you met your blind date, taehyun. he greeted you with a polite smile and an amiable demeanor. as you made small talk, discussing interests and hobbies, taehyun seemed genuinely pleasant, though his compliments caught you off guard. “you look absolutely gorgeous tonight,” he said with a warm smile.

you blushed slightly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and surprise. “thank you,” you replied, attempting to refocus the conversation. as you chatted, you noticed that his tie was hanging loose and uneven. it irked you more than you expected, and you reached over to fix it, hoping to tidy up his appearance. he watched with a smile as you deftly adjusted the tie, clearly appreciative of the attention to detail.

just as you were about to continue the conversation, a loud, urgent yell interrupted the moment. “secretary (l/n)!”

you and taehyun both turned to see seokjin striding toward your table, his expression stormy and his eyes locked onto you with barely concealed anger. your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. “vice chairman?” you asked, confusion mingling with concern. “what’s going on?”

he stopped in front of your table, his demeanor tense. “i need to see you urgently,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering. you glanced at taehyun, apologetic. “i’m so sorry, it seems to be an emergency.”

you followed him outside, where he led you to his waiting car. the drive began in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. the car came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road, and you turned to seokjin, your anxiety growing. “what’s the matter?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the unease you felt.

his gaze was cold, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a stern, almost menacing composure. “never do that again,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of finality.

you frowned, confusion clouding your expression. “what do you mean? what did i do?” his eyes locked onto yours with intensity. “never let me see you with another man like that again.”

you didn’t respond immediately, and his jaw clenched as he seemed to wrestle with his emotions. finally, he added, “i don’t want to see you with anyone else. it’s not something i'm willing to accept.” the confession left you stunned. you stared at him, a mixture of surprise and realization dawning on you. the implications of his words were clear, and the protectiveness in his tone was undeniable. the car ride continued in silence, with the weight of his words lingering between you.

back at home, you went through your evening routine, attending to various tasks around the house. the day's events had left you both physically and emotionally drained. you found solace in a small ritual that had been a comforting presence throughout your life—your diary. sitting down at your desk, you pulled out the well-worn book, its pages filled with a mixture of memories, dreams, and sketches. as you flipped through the pages, you came across a series of drawings. they depicted a younger you and a boy, playing and laughing together. the accompanying writing read, “i miss you, brother.” the words tugged at your heart, and you felt a pang of sadness.

the drawings were a testament to a bond that had once been a central part of your life. as you closed the diary and set it aside, you felt the ache of missing something—or someone—important. the day’s events had stirred up memories you weren’t quite ready to confront.

later that night, as you drifted off to sleep, the familiar haze of dreams enveloped you. in your dream, you found yourself in a dimly lit basement, a place filled with shadows and echoes of the past. the little boy from your diary appeared, standing before you with a stern expression. you felt tears streaming down your cheeks, overwhelmed by a mixture of regret and longing. the boy began to scold you, his voice echoing with an authority that seemed to pierce through your sorrow. despite the scolding, you felt a deep sense of gratitude.

“thank you, kim soo—seo—” you started, trying to recall his name. but before you could finish, the boy cut you off with a tsk. “no, stupid. my name is kim seo—” the name was just on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t quite grasp it. the dream began to fade, and you woke up with a start, heart racing and breath uneven.

sitting up in bed, you felt the weight of the dream pressing on you. the name “kim seo” lingered in your mind, but it was elusive, slipping away before you could fully remember. the dream had left you with a deep sense of loss and confusion, and you were left grappling with the fragments of a memory that seemed to evade your grasp. as you lay back down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something significant you were missing, a connection that was just out of reach. the memory of the dream and the name echoed in your thoughts, haunting you as you tried to find solace in sleep once more.

seokjin arrived at work the following day with a heavy air of exhaustion surrounding him. he trudged through the office, his usual confident stride replaced by a sluggish, disoriented gait. as the morning wore on, it became increasingly clear that he was struggling to stay awake. his head bobbed with fatigue as he sat at his desk, his eyes slipping shut despite his efforts to remain alert.

concerned, you approached his desk, gently shaking his shoulder. “vice chairman, are you alright?” when there was no response, you shook him harder, your worry mounting. his body felt unnervingly heavy, and it became clear that he was deeply asleep, his breathing uneven. panic surged through you as you realized the severity of the situation. without hesitation, you grabbed your phone and dialed for emergency services.

the paramedics arrived swiftly, their professional demeanor a small comfort amidst the chaos. you watched anxiously as they wheeled him into the ambulance. your heart pounded in your chest, and despite knowing it was likely nothing serious, you refused to leave his side.

in the hospital, as the medics prepared him for further examination, they reassured you that his condition wasn’t critical. “he’s just exhausted,” one of the paramedics said. “it’s likely just severe fatigue. you can go in once we’re done.” when you were finally allowed in, he was still asleep, his face pale and drawn. you took a seat next to him, trying to steady your breathing as you buried your face in your hands. the sight of him, knocked out cold, was deeply unsettling. It reminded you of something from your past—something too familiar.

as you stared at him, your thoughts drifted back to the boy from the basement. the way he was unconscious on the floor when the lady had taken you—the same position, the same labored breathing, the same pale complexion. the memories came rushing back, painful and vivid. the name “kim seo” echoed in your mind, but it didn’t quite fit. then you remembered the boy’s full name, “kim seohyeon.” the realization came with a jolt. “kim seohyeon,” you whispered to yourself, the name feeling strangely natural as it rolled off your tongue.

your relief was fleeting, however, as a chilling thought struck you. seokjin’s mother had asked you not even a couple days ago, “what do you think about my hyeon?” it wasn’t just a fragment of a bad memory—it was a piece of a puzzle falling into place. hesitantly, you turned your gaze back to him, who remained motionless. your heart raced as you said, “kim seohyeon.” your voice was shaky, trembling with the weight of the revelation.

for a moment, the room was silent, and you felt a brief sense of relief as though your words had broken the tension. but then, he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. his gaze was bleary, and he blinked at you in confusion. “what is it?” your heart sank as you saw his groggy, disoriented expression. the name you had just spoken had clearly registered with him, but his response was laced with irritation and confusion. you were left grappling with the enormity of the realization that seokjin—kim seohyeon—was more deeply connected to your past than you had ever imagined.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions surging within you. “kim seohyeon,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you looked at seokjin. his eyes, which had been closed in exhaustion, flew open at the sound of his name. the shock and recognition dawned on his face as he fully grasped the situation. “it was you,” you said, your voice laden with disbelief.

your heart pounded as you pieced together the fragmented memories that had haunted you for so long. “i remember now,” you began, your voice quivering. “there was a boy—you were in the basement with me.” his expression shifted from confusion to horror as the realization sank in. “the dreams i’ve been having,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “a black-haired woman, a basement—i’ve been dreaming about it for weeks.”

the pieces began to fall into place for you. “the boy i kept searching for, the one i couldn’t remember clearly—it was you. we were together in that basement. i’ve been trying to find you all this time, but i didn’t know it was you.” the enormity of the realization hit you like a tidal wave, and you began to sob uncontrollably. you had spent your entire life searching for the boy from the basement, the boy whose memory had haunted you for years. to discover that he was right under your nose all along, that seokjin was the one you had been seeking—it was overwhelming.

the flood of emotions surged through you, and the connections you had been struggling to piece together suddenly fell into place. the cables, the fear, the strange sense of familiarity—all of it made sense now. the sobs wracked your body, and you felt a deep, raw anguish as you realized how close you had come to losing him without ever knowing.

his gaze softened as he watched your breakdown. his usual composure and egotism crumbled in the face of your distress. weakly, he reached out to you, his hand trembling slightly. “it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with a tender concern that was rare for him. “i’m here.” you hesitated for a moment, but then, seeking solace, you moved into his embrace. his arms wrapped around you, providing a comfort that felt both foreign and deeply familiar. you continued to cry, each sob a release of the pent-up fear and sorrow that had built up over the years. he held you close, his own breath shaky as he struggled to process the gravity of the situation. he stroked your hair gently, his touch soothing and steadying. the warmth of his embrace provided a sense of security that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

as your sobs began to subside, he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin so that you looked up at him. his eyes were filled with a mix of empathy and resolve. “you found me,” he said softly, his voice trembling with the weight of the moment. his words, though simple, carried a profound meaning. the realization that you had finally found him, the person you had been searching for, was both a relief and a heartbreak. in that moment, the intensity of your emotions reached a peak, and he leaned in, closing the gap between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, but quickly grew more passionate. it was a kiss that spoke of the pain, the longing, and the deep connection that had been forged through shared battles. you responded, kissing him back with equal fervor, allowing the years of separation and anguish to dissolve in the intensity of the moment. when the kiss finally broke, you both pulled back slightly, breathless and awestruck. the weight of the past had been acknowledged, and the connection between you was solidified in a way that was both profound and healing.

he looked into your eyes, his expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “we'll be okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with a newfound determination. you nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief and hope.

the weeks following the revelation passed in a strange, uncomfortable silence. despite the deep bond you and seokjin now shared, an unspoken tension lingered in the office. the connection between you had shifted, but neither of you quite knew how to bridge the gap between your past traumas and your present reality.

he had revealed to you the reason behind his name change to seokjin. his parents had insisted on the new identity as a protective measure, believing that if seohyeon no longer existed, the woman who had once terrorized him would never be able to find him. this revelation, while reassuring, had also created a chasm between you two that was hard to navigate.

one afternoon, as the silence in the office grew increasingly heavy, he called you into his office. his demeanor was serious as he gestured for you to take a seat. you entered, your heart racing slightly, unsure of what to expect. “thank you for coming,” he began, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of something you couldn’t quite place. “i need you to do something for me.” you straightened in your chair, adopting a professional tone. “what is it?”

seokjin looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “i need you to be my girlfriend.” the words hung in the air between you, and you were momentarily stunned into silence. “what?” you managed to ask, your voice betraying your shock.

his gaze softened as he continued, his expression vulnerable. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us. after everything we’ve been through, i realized how much i care about you. i need you in my life, not just as my secretary, but as my girlfriend.”

his confession touched you deeply, and you felt a swell of emotion rise within you. “vice chairman” you began, struggling to find the right words. “i didn’t expect this.”

he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “i know. it’s sudden, and i understand if you need time. but i wanted to be honest with you about how i feel.” the sincerity in his voice, combined with the gravity of his words, made your heart ache with a mix of relief and hope. you were touched by his honesty and the way he had finally allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

he then leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to something more earnest. “there’s one more thing,” he said, his voice lowering. “i need you to kiss me.”

your eyes widened at his request. the gravity of the moment, coupled with your feelings for him, made your pulse race. you nodded slowly, feeling a surge of emotions—affection, longing, and a deep connection. you stood up and walked over to him, your heart pounding in your chest. his gaze followed you, his expression a mixture of anticipation and tenderness. as you reached him, you leaned in, closing the distance between you.

the kiss was tender, filled with the emotions you both had been holding back. It was a sweet, unspoken promise of a new beginning. he responded gently, his hands resting on your back as he deepened the kiss. when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed with the intensity of the moment. he looked at you with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability and affection that had been building between you.

his voice was soft and teasing as he traced his fingers gently along your back. “this means you’ll be my girlfriend, doesn’t it?” the playful tone in his voice, combined with the tender touch, made you smile despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. you nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and affection. “yes, it does.”

his eyes lit up with a genuine smile, his teasing demeanor giving way to something more heartfelt. “i’m glad to hear that. i’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time, but i didn’t know how.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “you didn’t need to wait so long. i think we both knew how we felt about each other.”

his smile widened as he pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms encircling you with a sense of relief and contentment. “i guess it’s true,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “sometimes, the things you’re looking for are right in front of you.” they really were, as it seemed.

the next few days at work were marked by an underlying tension that neither of you could quite shake off. seokjin was noticeably less cold and demanding, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. the change was subtle but significant. he found himself taking more interest in your presence, often waving at you from across the office with a grin that was almost boyish. each time you waved back, his smile would widen, and a look of genuine joy would light up his face.

the change didn’t go unnoticed by your colleagues, who observed the shift in seokjin’s behavior with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. however, no one dared to comment, respecting the unspoken agreement that something had clearly shifted in the office dynamics.

as the days passed, his new feelings for you started to manifest in ways he hadn’t anticipated. while he relished the sweetness of your new relationship, he found himself increasingly aware of the more physical aspects of your presence. he couldn’t ignore how his pulse quickened when he noticed the way your tight skirts accentuated your figure, or how the sight of your bare legs and hair pulled back made him sweat in the middle of meetings.

he tried to maintain his composure, but the intensity of his feelings became difficult to manage. his attempts to focus on work were often disrupted by thoughts of you, and he struggled to keep his desires in check.

one afternoon, unable to ignore his escalating emotions any longer, he called you into his office. his voice, usually commanding, now carried a hint of nervousness. “can you come in here for a moment?” you nodded, entering his office with a sense of anticipation. seokjin closed the door behind you and gestured for you to lock it. his eyes were intense as he watched you comply. he then moved to pull down the blinds, casting the room into a more private, dimly lit atmosphere.

“what’s going on?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you approached him. he looked at you with a mixture of longing and hesitation, his gaze fixed on yours. “i need you to understand something,” he said softly. “it’s not just about what we’ve been through, or about being together. i—”

he paused, taking a deep breath as he reached out to pull you closer. the seriousness in his eyes gave way to a softer, more vulnerable expression. “i need you to know how much i care about you. and right now, i can’t help but feel…”

before he could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. the kiss was different from before—less tender, more urgent and needy. it was filled with the intensity of emotions that had been building up inside him. you responded to the kiss, your own feelings mirroring his. the kiss deepened, and the world outside the office seemed to fade away as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

it was a kiss that spoke of months of unspoken yearning, a kiss that shattered the professional façade you had both so carefully maintained. his hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer. his other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your mouth as you kissed him deeper. his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting, exploring. you gasped, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

that was it. the moment you had both been waiting for, the moment that would change everything. you could feel the tension in the room, a tight coil winding tighter with every passing second. the sound of a zipper echoed through the room as seokjin stood, lifting you onto his desk. your legs wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his erection pressing against you, hot and insistent. your breath hitched as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he stepped back for a moment, looking into your eyes, searching for permission. you nodded, unable to form words, and he took that as his cue. his hands found the buttons of your blouse, deftly undoing them one by one. your bra was next, revealing your tits to his hungry gaze. He took one in his hand, squeezing gently, and your moan filled the room.

he leaned in, taking your nipple into his mouth. you arched your back, the sensation shooting straight to your core. he sucked, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, and your hips rolled against him. he groaned, his grip on your hip tightening. the anticipation was palpable as he reached for his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the need in them, the same need that was building within you. as he stepped closer, you felt his hardness pressing against your thigh, and you knew there was no turning back.

he whispered something in your ear, something filthy and thrilling, and you could feel your cheeks flush with arousal. his hands found the zipper of your skirt, sliding it down with a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet office. your skin prickled with excitement as the fabric fell away, revealing your lacy underwear. his hand slid under the fabric, his fingers finding your wetness. he groaned again, his breath hot against your neck. “you're so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you nodded, your eyes closing as he began to stroke you, his touch tentative at first, then growing bolder as your moans grew louder. your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. you knew you were his, and he was yours, in this every stolen moment of passion.

with a final tug, his hand found your bare skin, and you gasped as he touched you, his fingers exploring your folds with an urgency that mirrored your own. you could feel your core tightening around his touch, desperate for more. he pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. “you like that, don't you?” he asked, his voice a low growl. you nodded, your eyes glazed over with desire. he leaned in, capturing your mouth again in a bruising kiss as his thumb began to circle your clit. the sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. you didn't know if you could hold on much longer.

suddenly, he stopped, his hand moving away from your panties. you whimpered in protest, but he just chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down your spine. “patience,” he murmured, “we're just getting started.”

with surprising strength, he flipped you over, so that you were now lying face down on his desk, your ass in the air. he stepped back, and you could feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of your exposed body. you felt a thrill of exhibitionism, knowing that he was seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

he leaned over you, his breath hot on your ear. "you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with lust. his hand came down in a firm smack on your ass, and you yelped in surprise. the sting was quickly replaced by a warmth that spread through your body, making you wetter than ever.

he smacked you again, harder this time, and you moaned. the sound seemed to spur him on, and his hand began to move in a steady rhythm, alternating between gentle caresses and firm slaps. you felt yourself getting wetter with every hit, your body begging for more. “do you like that, baby?” he asked, his voice strained with his own need. “yes,” you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky. “more.”

he complied, his hand coming down harder and faster, each smack echoing through the room. you could feel yourself getting closer, your body trembling with the effort of holding back. and then, with one final, brutal slap, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. he leaned down, his breathing ragged, and kissed the back of your neck. “you're mine,” he murmured, his voice possessive. “mine to claim.”

and with that, he reached for his own pants, his hands shaking with desire. he freed himself, and you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness. without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you up in one swift, agonizingly sweet motion. you yelled, the pleasure overwhelming as he claimed your virginity, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

he didn't stop there, though. he began to move, his hips pistoning into you with a relentless rhythm that had you seeing stars. you could feel every inch of him, and it was more than you had ever imagined. each thrust was a declaration of ownership, each moan a promise of more to come. you pushed back against him, meeting him halfway, your body moving in perfect sync with his. you were lost in the sensation, the pain and pleasure melding into something indescribable. your hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as you held on for dear life.

“fuck, you're tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “so tight.” your response was a whimper, your throat too tight to form words. all you could do was moan and arch your back, taking him deeper, letting him fill you completely. the room spun around you as he picked up the pace, his hands digging into your hips as he drove into you. you could feel his climax building, his breaths coming in harsh pants against your neck. and then, with a final, guttural groan, he came, his warmth flooding into you.

you collapsed onto the desk, your body spent, as he pulled out and leaned over you, his chest heaving. he kissed your shoulder, his breathing slowly returning to normal. the room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths.

for a moment, you both just stayed there, basking in the afterglow of what had just happened. but reality began to seep back in, and you felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness. you were his secretary, and you had just had unprotected sex on his desk. the implications of your actions were just beginning to hit you.

seokjin must have noticed the change in your demeanor because he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “don't worry, i've got you.” his words were soothing, but they didn't entirely ease the anxiety coiling in your stomach. he helped you sit up, and you both began to straighten your clothes, trying to erase the evidence of your passionate encounter. your heart was racing, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him, seeing him in a new light. “we can't do this again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if someone finds out?”

he turned to face you, cupping your cheek. “they won't,” he assured you. “this is our secret.” his eyes searched yours, and you could see the determination in them. “but if they do,” he trailed off, a smug smile playing on his lips. “well, then they'll just have to deal with it. you're my girlfriend, after all.”

you couldn't help but smile back, his confidence infectious. but deep down, you knew that this was just the beginning. the line between professional and personal had been irrevocably crossed, and there was no going back.

✧.*

a/n: literally no one asked for this idc this is so funny to me i based the name off one drama and the plot off another goodbye

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gammasnippets · 1 year ago

Text

[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP58. Spotlighting🎬 Part.1

fromis_9 Lee Saerom, Song Hayoung, Jang Gyuri, Park Jiwon, Roh Jisun, Lee Seoyeon, Lee Chaeyoung, Lee Nagyung, Baek Jiheon

2,824 words (Unedited)

It’s the year 2027.

With the immense attention social media content garners these days, K-pop groups must put out a lot of various kinds of content for their fans to stay in their boat. And as of late, some artists are even resorting to a more risqué and sexual form of media just to stay in the game. The morality and ethics of it is something that shouldn’t be scoffed at, as it has sparked controversy around the industry. Others are in favor of it, while some are against it.

But as time goes by, this venture becomes harder and harder to resist as more and more fans are eating all forms of content… Until their perception of it all becomes grayed out.

Being one of the industry's most revered groups, the members of fromis_9 are just some of the artists who started partaking in more provocative and sensual concepts for their content to provide fans with a more sensual form of fanservice. Their agency has always been reluctant to do so, as they had their reputation to keep up. But with many groups competing for the top spot, these nine girls have to “exploit” what assets they have to push themselves higher in the industry.

As the group delved deeper into this sensual rabbit hole, they made a variety of content that fans will surely go crazy about. From music videos that show their bodies in tight, revealing clothes, and a bunch of photoshoots that would make you blush with the sheer sensuality of the outfits and poses that they had, fromis_9 has gone to the world that only the most daring of groups would dare venture in. And being a part of a group of editors tasked to produce content like this, you often find yourself getting a lot of material to jerk off to from these girls.

To commemorate the group’s 10th anniversary, the company has planned a series of special videos featuring the girls for their ever-loyal fans. And after several passes and editing by the other editors, the videos finally came in your email, waiting for a final review to be conducted by no other than you. The pressure is high, as this could very well be the most successful video project yet. As the last editor to get the content, it's all up to you to give it the final touches and make these videos—12 in total— as flawless as possible. With tissues and lotion just within arm's reach, you start reviewing the footage.

You press play on the first video on the list and the unforgettable intro for their variety series “Channel_9” starts.

The episode begins as the camera shows a large studio complex, almost like the ones they have in other countries where they create live-action films and such, panning through the many large structures and beautiful gardenscapes scattered around the area. It then transitions to a drone shot, where the girls can be seen walking through the complex. They pass by large water fountains and flower patches, all the while showing how nice and beautiful the place is. All of them gasped in awe at the sight of the complex.

“This place looks like a big hotel. They could be hiding the rides in those buildings,” says Hayoung.

Seoyeon chuckles. “You mean a theme park?”

“Ah… Right,” she answers.

You can hear all the girls laughing at that short yet funny conversation.

“Unnie,” says Chaeyoung. “We just visited one recently and you still can’t forget about it.”

“That place was fun, though,” she retorts.

“Yeah. You’re right,” Saerom and Chaeyoung answer, almost in unison.

“Wish we can return to that place,” Jiheon tells everyone.

"Maybe the crew's planning to take us to a theme park," Jiwon tells the group as she looks at the cameraman with a smug look on her face.

Everyone giggles at that.

Gyuri then sighs. "There she goes again."

"Watch it get jinxed," Nagyung adds.

Seoyeon laughs out loud at that. "Her plans never work out."

"Ya!" Jiwon protests, "It'll work out this time. Just watch!"

She looks back at the camera again, nodding as if persuading them to agree with her.

However… She got silence for an answer.

Jiwon playfully sulks, making everyone laugh.

They continue to walk through the complex until they've reached the center of a huge courtyard, where the rest of the filming crew is waiting for them. As they are all getting into their respective positions, you see the members getting excited to start shooting the first episode.

"This will be exciting, hmmm?" Hayoung asks them, looking eager.

"I sure hope so," Jisun replies, smiling.

"Oh, me too," says Saerom.

One of the staff members then began to speak up.

"Hello, everyone," the staff member began, greeting them.

The group greeted her back in unison, bowing their heads.

"Welcome to the country's biggest filming facility," the staff member continued.

"Oh! So this is what it is!" Jiheon gasps.

The camera then pans out in a drone camera, giving the viewers another good look of the entire complex.

"This is probably where they filmed that one train movie I just watched," Chaeyoung says in excitement, her eyes sparkling in awe.

Suddenly, Hayoung yells.

"Ahh! Ahh!"

Everyone looks at her, shocked.

"What is it?" asks Saerom.

Hayoung, still looking shocked, excitedly points somewhere far.

"I… I've seen that bench from my favorite drama show!"

"Really?" Gyuri asks.

Hayoung nods.

The camera then pans over to a familiar bench that looks identical to the one in the show.

"It really does look like that one," Seoyeon says.

"Wow, unnie," Nagyung says. "You do know your stuff."

Hayoung smiles and gives her a thumbs-up.

"Anyway… We have prepared a series of challenges for all of you," the staff member resumes.

Oohs and ahhs can be heard from the girls.

“We call these Spotlighting Challenges.”

Another wave of amazement envelops the group.

Hayoung then raises her hand. “Spotlighting Challenge?”

The staff member nods. “These challenges refer to a study about how people behave differently when they are being watched—be it on camera or in the spotlight.”

Everyone nods at the given explanation.

“Ooh. So that’s why there’s ‘spotlight’ in the name,” Chaeyoung remarks, nodding her head.

“Yeah,” Jisun hears her and agrees. “But we’re definitely used to it by now, right?”

Chaeyoung nods back, laughing. “Yeah. This should be easy for us!”

"Every single challenge has different goals and rules to achieve,” the staff member follows up. “All of you must do your best to complete each challenge."

"I see…" Nagyung replies, attentively listening.

"So where are these challenges located?" Saerom asks.

"Each challenge is located at different areas within the complex. There are nine challenges—one for each member."

Everyone is shocked at the announcement.

"Woah! Nine?" Jiheon exclaims.

"Yes, each member has a unique challenge."

"Unique challenge?" Jiwon asks, her eyes wide in shock. "So we'll be alone?"

"Yes," the staff member nods her head. "These challenges can only be completed individually."

A sudden silence fills the air as they process the information.

"Jeez… This is going to be nerve-wracking," Gyuri mumbles, scratching her head.

"I feel the same," Jiheon tells her, her body shaking in nervousness.

"We know you girls will worry about not having each other by your side," the staff member tells them reassuringly. "But we believe in each of your skills and strengths."

"Thank you," Jisun bows, accepting the encouragement.

"Are the challenges going to be difficult?" Chaeyoung asks, curiously.

The staff member shrugs her shoulders and replies in a soft tone.

“Kinda…”

Everyone then lets out sighs and grunts at the answer.

“Oh dear. We’re done for,” Nagyung frowns.

"But we made each challenge doable for any member," the staff member explains.

Everyone responds with a mixture of relief and determination.

"Well that's good news," she says with a smile.

"I know right?" Jiwon replies, also relieved.

"These challenges will require all of you to be creative. So do your best," the staff member adds.

Those words piqued the girls' curiosity. Some of them begin thinking of what they could mean.

"Be creative, huh?" Saerom asks them, her tone doubtful.

The staff member nods. She follows up with the instructions with a smirk forming on her face.

"And maybe some of your… Physical skills."

A mischievous glint suddenly sparkles in the girls' eyes as they exchange knowing looks.

"Hmmm… I wonder how physical these challenges can get?" Jiwon mischievously suggests with a playful tone.

Her teasing remark sends a wave of laughter through the group, instantly lightening the tense atmosphere.

"Oh, boy. Jiwon's at it again," Hayoung chuckles at Jiwon's suggestive remark.

The group can't help but blush at the playful insinuation.

"Surely it's nothing like that… Right?" Chaeyoung asks, looking dumbfounded at the revelation of their challenges.

The staff member smiles knowingly, making the girls even more intrigued

"Oh, dear…" Jiheon whispers under her breath, her cheeks slowly blushing. "This is going to be interesting."

"Are we really going to do it? Here?" Jisun murmurs, sounding both nervous and excited.

"I guess so," Gyuri responds with a sly grin.

The girls look at each other once again, giggling, as if they're sharing a naughty secret only they know.

"But what do we get if we win?" Nagyung then asks, diverting the topic to their goal.

"We have prepared something for all of you if you win," the staff member replies. "Since there are nine of you, the group will need five members to successfully complete the challenges."

Everyone is intrigued, their curiosity piqued by the promise of a reward.

"What's the prize? Can we get a hint?" Saerom asks, sounding mischievously.

"Yeah! Tell us!" Jiwon follows up, yelling in excitement.

"Jeez, unnie. Tone it down," Chaeyoung playfully berates her.

"Well… Is there anything you girls like?" the staff member asks the group.

Some of the members start thinking of an answer, but the others already have their minds made up.

"An all-you-can-eat buffet!"

"A trip to a theme park!"

"Rent a cinema, maybe?"

"Ooh! Let's go overseas!"

Those are some of the answers the girls excitedly shout out, their enthusiasm shooting through the roof.

The entire staff bursts into laughter at their liveliness and shared excitement.

"I guess we'll have to discuss that later," the staff member says with a smile.

"Alright!" Hayoung replies, pumping her fist in the air.

"I'm actually kinda excited now," Gyuri admits, a joyous look on her face.

"Me too," Jisun adds.

"So please do your best, everyone," the staff member encourages.

Saerom nods, looking determined. "Of course."

The other members nod, too.

The rest of the staff then carries, in front of them, a ballot box. Colorful envelopes can be seen inside the transparent box.

"Wow! So pretty," Jiheon exclaims, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"That's cute," Nagyung agrees, a smile forming on her face.

"Everyone, please take turns drawing an envelope," the staff member instructs, gesturing towards the box.

The girls eagerly step towards the box one by one, reaching into the ballot box. They then head back to their original spots, envelopes in hand, excitement radiating from each of them. Some are careful in picking their envelopes, while some are swift and waste no time… And some play around with their selection.

All the members seem eager to open the envelopes and reveal the contents. But everyone is waiting for a signal, patiently, as their anticipation builds.

"Please remember that you shouldn't reveal the contents of your envelopes to anyone," the staff member reminds them.

Everyone responds in affirmation as they grip their envelopes tightly, excitement and curiosity swirling in their eyes.

"Okay. You can open your envelopes now."

The members rip open their envelopes, their eyes meticulously scanning the contents.

"Oh. So this is just instructions to where we should head for," Chaeyoung asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

The staff member nods. "Yes. You will be informed about the challenge once you reach your designated location."

She nods back in understanding. "I see…"

"I hope the missions are fun!" Saerom exclaims with a grin on her face.

"I'm more hoping that they're easy," Gyuri chuckles, crossing her fingers.

"That too!" Saerom adds, laughing along with her.

"Ugh! I'm getting nervous!" Seoyeon whines, hopping from foot to foot.

"Pretty sure you can do it," Hayoung reassures her, giving Seoyeon a comforting pat on the back.

"How cute," Nagyung murmurs, giggling at the two.

"So, is everyone ready?"

Everyone responds in unison, their voices filled with anticipation.

"We're ready!"

"Yes!"

"Let's go!"

"The Spotlight Challenge has started! Again do your best, everyone!" the staff member announces as she cheers them on.

"Thank you!" In response, the girls bowed to everyone in gratitude.

Each member then reviewed their instructions and began looking around, figuring out where to go.

"Hmmm… I guess I should be going here," Jisun muses to herself, reading the directions on her instructions sheet as she walks off.

"Hey, unnie!" Jiheon calls out to her. "Are you going?"

Jisun turns around and nods. "Ah! Uhmm... Yes."

"Wait! I'm coming with you!" Jiheon decides, running up to join Jisun on their journey.

On the other hand, the rest of the group continued to figure out their destinations.

"Well… I think I'm heading this way," Seoyeon says, pointing opposite to Jisun's direction.

"You're heading there, too?" Hayoung asks her curiously, glancing at her own instructions.

Seoyeon just nods with a sheepish smile.

"Yay! Let's go together!" she excitedly screams as she hugs her.

"Hey! I’m also heading there too!" Nagyung adds, joining in on the hug.

As the trio embraced each other tightly, the remaining members were still working out the instructions given to them.

"If this is here, then…" Gyuri mumbles. "Then this one is… Hmmm…"

"I guess I should be going… This way?" Chaeyoung says, scratching her head in confusion as she tries to decipher the instructions.

"Huh? Chaeyoung-ah," Gyuri calls out.

"Yes, unnie?"

"Are you leaving already?"

"Yeah, I think so," Chaeyoung responds, looking unsure.

"Okay. Do your best, then!" she encourages her, waving her hand at her.

"Will do! Thank you!" Chaeyoung replies cheerfully, waving back at Gyuri. "See you later!"

Suddenly, Jiwon appears behind her, as if peeking at her unnie's instructions. Gyuri quickly spots her and hides her envelope, giving Jiwon a playful glare.

"What are you doing?" the older girl asks, pretending to be annoyed.

"What?" Jiwon acts coy, smiling as if she's innocent. "I'm doing nothing?"

"You aren't supposed to peek at my directions," Gyuri scolds her, wagging her finger at Jiwon.

"No, I'm not," she continues her innocent act, blinking her eyes innocently at Gyuri.

But Gyuri sees through her act and playfully pinches Jiwon's cheek.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Unnie!" Jiwon yelps as she feigns pain.

"Come on now, don't be sneaky," she says with a smirk.

"I'm not! Really!" Jiwon insists, rubbing her cheek dramatically.

Gyuri chuckles. "Alright. Where are you heading?"

"I'm heading that way," she points to the huge building behind the filming crew.

"Ooh. That looks big."

"I bet that's the main building."

"Seems like it. Yeah."

Suddenly, Saerom spots the two, approaches them, and joins in on the conversation.

"So, where are you going?" she asks.

Gyuri is the first to answer, pondering her options.

"I think I'll head to that building and ask around," she says, pointing to the same building Jiwon had mentioned earlier.

"Me too," Jiwon adds, nodding in agreement. "I think my challenge is somewhere in that building."

"I see…" Saerom replies, nodding at their answers.

"So where will you go?" asks Jiwon.

"Me?"

The two other girls nod expectantly.

"Same as you two. To that building," Saerom answers, confirming their choice.

"Oh. Then we all should go together," Gyuri suggests with a smile.

"Yes! Let's all go!" Jiwon exclaims excitedly, grabbing onto Gyuri and Saerom's arms.

Now with all the nine members of fromis_9 walking off in different directions, the view then shifts to a drone shot, showing the immense size of the complex, before showing a slo-mo view from each camera team that follows every member towards their respective destinations. Nervousness and excitement can be read on their faces, adding anticipation for the upcoming events.

All of a sudden, a brief montage teasing the future episodes plays. It showcases the members meeting new people, strategizing for their challenges, and lots of pure, unadulterated sex—the girls letting out screams and moans no one has probably heard. Your heart skips a beat as you process what you just saw. Doing sexy projects might not be new to them at this point, but nothing that's as bold and intense as this is.

You can't deny the creeping sense of unease that you're suddenly feeling. Yet, at the same time, it's an undeniable fact that you are getting excited and eager to see more.

Finally, the screen fades out, leaving you excited to review all of fromis_9's thrilling new series.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

I'm back... I guess? 😅 I apologize for the sudden absence that took more than a year. I left everyone without saying a word. And with that, I would like to make up with a huge series starring all of fromis_9.

Yes. Including Gyuri. 🍊

As ambitious as this might be, and given the fact that I'm not the most creative writer with the most amount of creative juice there is, I'm gonna try and sprinkle a few other stories featuring other idols in between... Just to add variety, and to not bore myself (and everyone) with just one group.

And, yes. I know. I still have 6 more Girls' Generations to write a story about. We'll get there when we get there, okay? It'll happen... When it happens. 😂

A huge thanks to @braaan for the poster! You are too kind. 🫂

And with that, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #fromis9smut #saeromsmut #hayoungsmut #gyurismut #jiwonsmut #jisunsmut #seoyeonsmut #chaeyoungsmut #nagyungsmut #jiheonsmut

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420b1a2eit · 9 months ago

Text

Ryujin's Review

Ryujin x BBC(3)

1598 words

tags: foursome, BBC, rough sex, double penetration, spitroast, etc.

Ryujin stretched out on the plush king-sized bed in her Los Angeles hotel room, excitement bubbling through her veins. She'd taken Yuna's advice and eagerly made three bookings on a certain app. Dredd, Louie, and Isiah—all with impressive reputations and even more impressive endowments.

She stared at herself in the mirror, admiring her toned physique. Her brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that radiated confidence and anticipation. Her tight abs and thick thighs were testament to her dedication to calisthenics and martial arts. She'd dressed to impress in black lace lingerie, the delicate fabric hugging her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

The knock on the door jolted her from her reverie. She opened it to find the three men standing there, each exuding an aura of raw masculinity. Dredd, the tallest, had a dark, commanding presence with his chiseled jaw and intense eyes. Louie, with his playful grin and muscular build, exuded a sense of wild energy. Isiah, the quietest, had an air of quiet dominance, his broad shoulders and ripped abs hinting at untamed strength.

Without a word, they stepped inside, and the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Dredd was the first to act, his large hand wrapping around Ryujin's wrist, pulling her close. He kissed her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth, while Louie and Isiah watched, their eyes dark with lust.

Ryujin moaned into Dredd's mouth, feeling her arousal spike. Louie moved behind her, his hands sliding over her hips, squeezing her ass through the thin fabric. "You ready for us, baby?" he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck yes," she gasped, her voice trembling with excitement.

Dredd's hand moved to her throat, squeezing lightly as he guided her to the bed. He pushed her down, and Ryujin landed on her back, her legs spread invitingly. Louie and Isiah were quick to undress, their massive cocks springing free, hard and ready.

Isiah stepped forward, his cock inches from Ryujin's face. "Open wide, slut," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. She obeyed eagerly, her mouth stretching to accommodate his girth. He thrust deep, hitting the back of her throat, making her gag and drool.

Dredd knelt between her legs, tearing away her panties and exposing her wet pussy. "Such a tight little cunt," he growled, his fingers sliding inside her, spreading her open. Louie joined in, spanking her ass hard, making her yelp around Isiah's cock.

"Take it all, bitch," Isiah snarled, his thrusts becoming more forceful. Ryujin's eyes watered, but she loved every second, her body on fire with desire.

Dredd replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing into her tight, wet heat. Ryujin screamed around Isiah's cock, the sheer size of Dredd stretching her to the limit. Louie moved to her side, grabbing her hair and yanking it back, his hand slapping her face lightly.

"Look at you, such a perfect little whore," Louie taunted, his voice dripping with lust. "You love being used, don't you?"

Ryujin nodded as best she could, her body shaking with pleasure. "Yes, I love it," she gasped when Isiah pulled out momentarily, giving her a breath before shoving back in.

The room filled with the sounds of their rough, primal fucking. Dredd pounded into her relentlessly, his balls slapping against her ass, while Isiah fucked her mouth with brutal intensity. Louie alternated between spanking her and whispering filthy words in her ear, his own cock rock-hard and leaking pre-cum.

"Such a good slut, taking all of us so well," Dredd praised, his voice gruff. He increased his pace, driving into her harder, each thrust hitting her G-spot, sending waves of ecstasy through her body.

Isiah's grip tightened in her hair, and he came with a roar, his cum flooding her mouth, forcing her to swallow. He pulled out, leaving her gasping and drooling, her lips swollen and red.

Louie took his place, pushing his cock into her mouth without hesitation. "Suck it, bitch," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. Ryujin complied, her tongue swirling around his shaft, sucking eagerly.

Dredd's thrusts grew erratic, and he soon followed, filling her pussy with his hot seed. He pulled out, his cum dripping from her swollen lips.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he panted, collapsing beside her. Isiah and Louie soon joined, their bodies spent but their eyes still filled with desire.

Ryujin lay between them, her body aching in the best possible way. She had never felt more alive, more desired, more utterly used and satisfied.

"Ready for round two?" she asked, her voice hoarse but eager. The men exchanged grins, their cocks already twitching back to life.

"Oh, we're just getting started," Louie promised, his hand sliding down to tease her still-sensitive clit. "This night is far from over, slut."

Ryujin's heart raced as Louie's fingers expertly teased her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her already sensitized body. The men shifted around her, their predatory gazes never leaving her flushed and eager face.

Isiah, recovered from his initial release, was the first to move. He spread Ryujin's legs wider, positioning himself between her thighs once again. His cock, still slick from her mouth, lined up with her entrance. "Ready for more?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Yes, fuck me," Ryujin moaned, her hips bucking up to meet him. Isiah thrust into her with a powerful stroke, filling her completely. She cried out, the sensation of being stretched anew overwhelming her senses.

Dredd moved behind her, lifting her upper body slightly to position her on her hands and knees. He ran his hands down her back, gripping her hips as he aligned his cock with her tight, puckered hole. "I'm going to take this sweet ass, slut," he growled, the tip of his cock pressing against her.

Ryujin's breath hitched, a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through her as Dredd slowly pushed inside. She clenched around him, the fullness intense but exhilarating. "Oh fuck, yes," she gasped, her body trembling with anticipation.

Louie, not to be left out, moved to the side, his cock brushing against her lips. "Open up, bitch," he commanded, his tone rough and commanding. Ryujin obediently parted her lips, taking him into her mouth, the taste of his pre-cum mixing with the remnants of Isiah's release.

The three men established a rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Isiah pounded into her pussy, his thrusts hard and deep, while Dredd claimed her ass with relentless force. Louie's cock filled her mouth, the sound of her sucking and gagging adding to the symphony of their rough, primal fucking.

"You're such a good little whore," Louie praised, his hand tangled in her hair, guiding her head up and down his shaft. "Taking all three of us like a pro."

Ryujin's muffled moans were the only response she could manage, her body quaking with pleasure. The combined sensation of being filled so completely, of being used so thoroughly, was pushing her to the edge.

Dredd's hand snaked around to her front, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed it in tight, rough circles, driving her wild. "Cum for us, slut," he growled, his voice low and demanding.

The command sent her over the brink. Ryujin's body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that left her gasping and crying out. Her walls clenched around Isiah, milking his cock, driving him closer to his own release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Isiah groaned, his pace becoming erratic. He buried himself deep inside her, his hot seed spilling into her, adding to the mix of fluids already dripping from her.

Louie followed suit, pulling out of her mouth to stroke himself to completion. He aimed his cock at her face, thick ropes of cum splattering across her cheeks, her lips, marking her as theirs.

Dredd was the last, his thrusts growing wild and desperate. He gripped her hips tightly, his own release crashing through him as he filled her ass with his cum. The sensation sent another wave of pleasure through Ryujin, her body quivering in the aftermath of their brutal, satisfying encounter.

The room was filled with the heavy sound of their breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex. Ryujin collapsed onto the bed, her body spent but utterly sated. The men lay beside her, their hands lazily caressing her skin, their eyes filled with a mixture of lust and satisfaction.

"You were incredible," Isiah murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on her thigh. "A perfect little slut."

Ryujin smiled, her body still humming with the remnants of their shared pleasure. "I'm just getting started," she replied, her voice a sultry promise of more to come.

Dredd chuckled, his hand squeezing her ass possessively. "Good, because we've got all night."

The night stretched on, filled with the sounds of their passionate, unrestrained fucking. Ryujin reveled in every moment, each touch, each thrust, each filthy word a testament to her insatiable desire. The men took her again and again, their stamina seemingly endless, their need as voracious as hers.

By the time dawn began to break, casting a soft glow through the hotel room, Ryujin lay exhausted but blissfully satisfied. She'd been used, filled, and pleasured in ways she'd only fantasized about. The memory of this night would stay with her forever, a reminder of the raw, uninhibited passion that had consumed them all.

As she drifted off to sleep, nestled between the warm, strong bodies of her lovers, she couldn't help but smile. Yuna had been right—the app was worth every single star.

#ryujin smut #kpop smut #kpop bbc #bbc smut #itzy ryujin #shin ryujin #itzy smut #itzy ryujin smut

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richarlotte · 24 days ago

Note

Could you just post your peel routine on main, please?

My knee/elbow glycolic acid (chem peel) routine.

Note: I went to see my dermatologist, was told to try glycolic peels through her office to help clear up the hyperpigmentation on my knees and elbows, saw the price, and decided to try my luck on my own. I did all of this at my own risk and wouldn’t recommend trying to do your own chemical peels unless you’re willing to really take your time and educate yourself properly. I ordered my peels from eBay and read all the reviews.

I started off using a 20% peel and cotton pads that I got from Sephora. I’d soak a cotton pad in the peeling solution, spread it over my clean, dry skin, and let the solution sit for 10 to 15 seconds. Glycolic acid can be neutralized with water, so as soon as those 10 to 15 seconds were up, I’d rinse my skin with water and a neutral soap. I did this every other day for a week, took a week-long break, and then started again but went up to 20 to 25 seconds and then onto 30 secs to a min.

You want to slowly build up your tolerance until you reach around 10 minutes. Depending on how dark and callused your skin is, you might not need to do the peel every other day when you’re leaving it on for longer, and if you start to see results that you love with a lower concentration of acid, you might not need to move to a stronger concentration. I went to 30% after a month of 20% because the skin on my knees was SO discolored.

Higher concentrations of glycolic acid are much more likely to burn than lower concentrations. As soon as you start working with any concentration over 30%, you’re going to want to take more notice and be very careful with what you’re working with so that you don’t damage your skin with the acid. Using less is more when you’re doing things without being a professional.

I followed the same routine as I moved up through stronger concentrations of glycolic acid. I have dark skin, so starting slowly with 30%, 50%, and 70% was important. I built my tolerance up until I was able to last for 15 minutes with the solution on my skin. I started letting the cotton pad sit on my skin when I got to 50%, and it made the scarring on my knees clear up.

You’re going to have to play around with different concentrations of peel to find what works for you, as everyone’s skin is different, and you should wear gloves when you’re applying it. I kept the areas I used the acid on moisturized with a very thin layer of Vaseline, I trimmed the skin off as it started peeling instead of just ripping it off, I avoided wearing clothes that rubbed against the areas, and I applied sunscreen liberally when I’d go out without covering my body.

DO NOT use this routine on your face, neck, armpits, décolletage, or intimate areas; always patch test before you apply any peel and make sure you order from a reputable source; don’t apply the peel to any raw patches of skin or skin that’s still peeling; and take care to remain smart and sanitary throughout the duration of the process. A lot of the process is just common sense and repetition, but you HAVE to be sure to take your time between applying each stronger level of acid.

Take care to be responsible!

#richarlotte x #under 18s do not reblog

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yatagarasuhonyaku · 2 months ago

Text

The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 4 "Yukiya" Part 1

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Chihaya (Part 3)

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Chapter 3: Yukiya (Part 1)

“Taken. Please, your verification.”

The boy's clear voice reverberated through the wide hall.

Two men stood on the stands at each side of the Field, each one completely unlike the other. The first was a bulky middle aged man, all dressed up in a splendid iron blue haori with crests engraved on it. The second was a boy of small stature, dressed merely in a simple feather robe.

At the moment, the big man was pale as a sheet, staring at the Field with plain incredulity—yet no matter how many times he checked it, the situation on the board wasn’t going to change.

The boy, on the other hand, calmly waited for the judge's resolution. The only colors in the midst of the pure black of his feather robe came from a crimson strap and a green decorative jewel. His hair was the same color as the fertile soil of a farming field, bouncy as it fell on his perfectly straight back.

He was apparently only two years older than me, yet we were more or less the same height —in fact, the Ornamented Blade resting on his hip looked disproportionate. Nevertheless, he had an unflinching figure, enveloped in an air of genuine self-confidence.

“I've verified it. Winner, lower side.”

With the announcement of the judge declaring him the winner, the boy calmly moved on to the customary greetings. “Thank you for the match.”

A commotion ensued—people's voices were filled with wonder rather than joy at the results. It turned out that the middle aged man, who had just lost during the Board Drill, was in fact a high ranking official and commander in active service working at the Feathered Grove. Everyone had thought it was impossible for the boy to win against the man, despite his ever rising reputation through the past few days’ matches.

——Amazing! To think he would actually win!

Now, what could be cooler than watching a boy almost my age face such a high ranked opponent as an equal?

People in the audience moved forward to interrogate the boy, one after the other, about the match that had just finished. ‘Why did you choose that strategy?’ ‘How did you plan to counter him if he had chosen this different method of attack?’ The boy answered everyone soundly and without hesitation.

With the match review over, the boy finally stepped down from the stand and left the building for a break. I was reluctantly watching him go, when the Township Lord—the man who had brought me here in the first place—asked me between laughs, “Do you want to go say hi?”

We found the boy right outside the hall, eating rice balls as he chatted with a group of people—possibly his friends.

“Sapling Yukiya, do you have a moment?” The Township Lord called to him.

Right then, the boy—Sapling Yukiya—noticed our presence, immediately fixing his posture. “Oh, what a surprise, Your Lordship. It's an honor to have you here. I didn’t expect you to come all the way from Ayukuni multiple days in a row.”

“Oh, it's all for my own enjoyment, in part at least. There are very few chances to watch such a huge gathering of Yamauchi's most famous and skilled generals—and your match today too. It was splendid.”

“My deepest gratitude for the compliment.”

The two of them chatted animatedly. In the meantime, my eyes were all but glued on Sapling Yukiya.

——He was truly tiny.

Now that I could see him up close, his physical appearance proved to be utterly unremarkable. The only standout was the air of maturity surrounding him, of which there was not a trace on my peers back home. He had a somewhat dignified presence, made apparent by how he managed to talk with the Township Lord with such ease.

“To tell the truth, I wanted to introduce you to someone. I thought it would be a good learning experience, you see, so I brought him here with me. He should be joining the Unbending Reed Monastery next year.”

“Oh, so he's a future junior?” Prompted by the Township Lord's words, Sapling Yukiya’s eyes turned towards me.

“I-It’s an honor to meet you! I'm Haruma of Ayukuni! Your match earlier was truly, truly wonderful. You were so imposing, Sapling Yukiya, despite your size—”

As I babbled on, all overexcited, I was suddenly struck by what I had just said. I froze immediately, taken aback by my own discourtesy. However, Sapling Yukiya didn't even blame me for my blunder—he let out a giggle instead. “Size plays no part in strategy, does it? That said, as long as today's match left an impression on you, that's all that matters.”

“...... It absolutely did!”

What a mature, big-hearted person he turned out to be! I was more and more impressed by the moment. I had gone on a fervent speech about what a help it had been to watch his match and just how fascinated I was by Sapling Yukiya's approach to battle tactics, when the Township Lord interrupted me with a wry smile, “Well, just as you see, Haruma here is a bit of an oddball. In fact, I've been secretly hoping that he has what it takes to become a second you of sorts.”

Those words were apparently enough for Sapling Yukiya to realize what the Township Lord’s expectations were.

“I see.” He nodded ever so slightly, giving me a much more serious look than before. “It's heartening for me as well to have trainees like you. We are both oddballs, so let's work hard together,” Sapling Yukiya said to me with a bright smile.

——That was the moment my path in life was set.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

The lecture hall's roof tiles sparkled as they bathed in the early spring's sunlight, all slightly different colors from being replaced time and time again. This was his first visit to the Unbending Reed Monastery in a very long time and, while he didn't regret dropping out, it was proving to have something nostalgic about it.

He was overcome by emotion, his new status as yet another outsider to the Monastery hitting him as he went through the access procedure, when someone shrieked at his back. “Wait a moment! Isn't that Lord Professor?”

Akeru looked up to find a couple of young men. They had been walking around together just a moment ago, but they were now running towards him—Hisaya and Tatsuto. Back when they were all Seeds, he looked after them quite a bit.

“It has been a whole year, hasn't it? How have you been?”

Akeru forced a smile at that. “I'm doing just fine working for His Highness Wakamiya, fortunately. More importantly, how about you? The Trial of Storm should be almost over, right?”

The second he asked that, his ex-peers’ gazes went distant. “Well, this year's first and second of the class were as good as settled, so the Trial was all for us average people to fight over the scraps,” Tatsuto explained with resignation.

“Still, I feel sorry for Shige,” Hisaya added. “If it were only the practical courses, he would have had a chance—he beat Yukiya and Chihaya in some of those. But he still ended up third because of all the points he lost in theory.”

“Well, and if you had been here, the results could have changed even further……” Tatsuto quietly mentioned.

Akeru laughed at that. “What are you implying? Don’t tell me that you want me to act as your teacher even now as Evergreens?”

“No, I didn't mean it like that!”

“I mean, you passed the Trial of Mist, didn't you? Wouldn't it have been better for you to become an Evergreen with us instead?”

Akeru gave them a big snort. “Well, I would have surely taken first place if I had stayed here, of course. But what option did I have? His Highness Wakamiya asked me to come back ‘by all means’. Ah, such are the woes of those overflowing with talent,” he said, waving his arms in a theatrical manner.

The other two, well-aware of Akeru's actual scores, loudly cackled in answer. “Oh, don't make me laugh! You weren't capable of beating us in Horsemanship even once in all your time here.”

“You're truly the same old guy, huh? That's a relief, actually.”

“Why would I have changed that easily—!? Anyway, do you two know where the hell Yukiya is?” Akeru asked. He had gone through the trouble of coming all the way to the Monastery for a reason.

The two of them glanced at each other.

“Now that's bad timing to have business with Yukiya.”

“We decided the order for the tests by lottery, you see. So Yukiya and Sadamori's battle ended up being the very last one. Those two are actually the only ones yet to finish the Trial of Storm—their Strategy match is tomorrow.”

The trainees’ skills in Strategy were tested by a demonstration match during the Trial of Storm. The two Evergreens took the role of generals in a large-scale mock battle, while the Seeds and Saplings acted as their soldiers. Even the information on the training field, chosen among the few big ones across Yamauchi, was kept from them until the day before.

Which meant that, at the time, Yukiya was cloistered in his given ‘headquarters’ as he went over the data they had prepared for him, ironing out his battle plan for the next day.

“We haven't seen him since this morning, and Chihaya and Shige have way too much time on their hands right now. They probably went over there to banter already.”

“Can you at least tell me where Yukiya's headquarters are then?”

“No idea. The Instructors are probably your only remaining option.”

Then, just as Akeru was considering what to do next, someone else meekly cut in on the conversation.

“Excuse me, seniors?” Akeru turned to find a trainee he didn't recognize—a Seed, given his decorative jewel was white. His body was thin, and freckles were spread all over his nose. He gave off quite the serious aura. “I'm sorry, I didn't plan to eavesdrop, but…… If you wish, I can guide you to Evergreen Yukiya's headquarters.”

“Oooh, really?”

“Yes. Just—I have to pick up something from the kitchen fist. Could you wait for a moment?”

He was quite the polite junior. Tatsuto and Hisaya were smiling wryly at him. “So Yukiya is working you to the bone as usual, huh?”

“You know you can tell him no if you want, right?”

“Oh, but I'm doing this because I want to, don't worry. Well then, I'll be back in a moment,” the Seed bowed his head and left in a dash.

Once he was gone, Akeru asked, “Who is that?”

“Yukiya's pupil. Name's Haruma. He has the best scores in Strategy among the Seeds by far and actually got dragged into Yukiya's Tactical Research Group the very second he got here.”

“Woah, poor kid.”

“Well, it seems Haruma himself really admires Yukiya too, so, from the looks of it, they're surprisingly doing just fine?”

“He's surely being fooled by appearances—now that makes me feel even sorrier for him.”

As they enthusiastically enjoyed some gossiping, Haruma returned in a dash, packages in his arms. “My apologies for making you wait, follow me.”

Akeru said his farewells to the two Evergreens, and so left the Unbending Reed Monastery guided by Haruma.

“Ah, now that I think about it, I haven't introduced myself to you yet. I’m—” Akeru tried to give the boy his name, but he was cut off before he could.

“It’s fine, I know,” Haruma cheerfully said. “Akeru of the Western House, right? You joined the Unbending Reed Monastery at the same time as Evergreen Yukiya and the rest but you’re now working as His Highness Wakamiya’s close aide. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Haruma spoke with a big, cheerful smile. Akeru’s eyes went wide open. “Wait, they didn’t say anything weird about me, right?”

“Not at all! Evergreen Yukiya even complimented you, saying you were ‘very wise’.” While, from the looks of it, Haruma’s interpretation of the words had been quite well-meaning, Akeru had a hunch about what Yukiya truly meant with ‘wise’—it gave him all kinds of conflicted feelings.

He may have spoken like that to Tatsuto and Hisaya, but Akeru knew better than anyone that he was no match for Yukiya and the others. Hence, after clearing the Trial of Mist, Akeru went to personally meet with Wakamiya one more time. ‘I’ve learned enough combat to protect myself but, even if I were to stay in the Monastery, it’s impossible for me to reach the heights required to protect Your Highness.’ After that, Akeru made his request to again serve directly under Wakamiya from that point onwards.

Wakamiya was appreciative of Akeru’s efforts and, this time, enlisted him as his close aide from the very beginning. Akeru was well aware that his lack of talent as a warrior would have truly become apparent if he had stayed any longer and was firm in his belief that he made the right choice back then.

That said, he didn’t enjoy others pointing it out even one bit. “That bastard…… I’ve heard you really admire Yukiya—is that true?”

“It is! I mean, I wouldn’t have even had the chance to be at the Monastery in the first place if it wasn’t for Evergreen Yukiya.”

Haruma was a commoner from the Eastern Region. He had always liked studying, but his social status had greatly limited his options to focus on such an endeavor no matter how much he wanted it. So, as he had some skill with the sword, he requested admission to the Unbending Reed Monastery, aiming for a recommendation from his Township’s Lord. However, his physical capabilities proved to be one step behind all the other candidates.

“I lost at the test matches. I truly thought that was it for me and was about ready to give up, but—” The Township Lord gave Haruma one of his precious few recommendation letters despite his results. “I couldn’t believe it! Then, when I asked him why he chose me, he brought up Evergreen Yukiya.”

Up until then, the Township Lord had been of the belief that those tough of body and blessed with physical strength were the only ones fit to become Yamauchi Guards. Yet recent events had made him consider that, perhaps, having a Guard with a clear, bright mind would be a good idea as well.

“And then! Arguing it was a perfect chance, the Township Lord even brought me to Reed Waterway Temple!” The moment he heard that, Akeru could already tell how the rest of the story was about to proceed.

It all happened about two years ago.

The rumors about a teen prodigy who had managed to defeat Suikan—the best tactician of their era—spread like wildfire in the military world. That, coupled with the fact that Suikan actually left the Monastery afterwards, led to the organization of what they called a ‘Strategy Workshop’. A screening process for the position of Strategy’s new practical Instructor in all but name.

The event included officials from the Yamauchi Guard and the Feathered Grove, as well as out-of-office scholars focused on war tactics. Everyone with confidence in their own tactical skills gathered at Reed Waterway Temple and dueled each other to determine the level of their talents.

Within the region, the event was referred to as the Reed Waterway Workshop.

With all that said and done, Yukiya, the very source of the problem at hand, proved to be the center of everyone’s attention at the Workshop. The Warfare Record of his match with Suikan had already made the rounds by that point and anyone who saw it could tell that Yukiya’s odd strategy had to be a stroke of good luck—or cheating.

At first, everyone believed that the so-called ‘Unbending Reed Monastery’s Teen Prodigy(1)’ would give himself away at the Reed Waterway Workshop—but Yukiya didn’t employ any tactic like the one against Suikan. Not even once. He battled within orthodoxy, facing his upper side opponents strictly with by-the-book tactics. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost. He performed splendidly as well in the reviewing process after the matches themselves.

After that, his ‘Monastery’s Teen Prodigy’ nickname stopped being used as a form of mockery and quickly became genuine. The man ultimately chosen as the new Instructor was an ex-Yamauchi Guard, already retired from any sort of active service—but the renown Yukiya gained during the event was undoubtedly second to none.

“I was quite shocked when I first saw Evergreen Yukiya with my own eyes,” Haruma said with a dreamy look in his eyes, apparently lost in the memory. “Back then, Evergreen Yukiya was even smaller than I am now. But he wasn’t intimidated, no matter his opponent—he even won against people way above him! I got way too worked up,” Haruma forced a shy smile, “and even ended up disrespecting him after a match. However! He didn't seem at all bothered by it and was so nice to me. He even offered to help me out when I actually arrived at the Monastery.”

True to his word, Yukiya did apparently take quite good care of Haruma after he joined the Unbending Reed Monastery. “There are many juniors who admire Evergreen Yukiya just like me, but for me, he isn't only an example to follow—he's someone I owe my life to.”

In sharp contrast with Haruma's bright smile, Akeru found himself tremendously conflicted and desperately swallowing his words.

“I'm glad to be of any help to him whatsoever. I don't really care what others may say about it.”

“Hey, wolf in sheep's clothing bastard.” Curse words were the first thing to come out of Akeru’s mouth as he pulled the tent flap open.

Yukiya was there, sitting on a camp stool as he looked at the maps spread over the nearby stand. He just laughed in answer, his eyes still fixed on the papers. “What’s up with that? And out of nowhere!”

“Don't you have even the slightest of a guilty conscience, deceiving your poor innocent junior like that?”

“Deceiving? Perish the thought. I'm truly just a kind and caring senior.”

“Now that’s bullshit. I know you're twisted to the core, don't you lie to me.”

Nevertheless, Akeru's cursing was promptly ignored with a laugh. “So what's the deal? You came all the way here, so there must be some kind of emergency.”

As he said that, Yukiya finally raised his head.

His physical appearance had changed significantly since their days as Seeds. His features, which were once only possible to be described as round and plump, had gotten sharper with age. At the moment, gentle and soft would be a better description for them. It was a terrifying thought, but someone could even mistake Yukiya as an eloquent, fine young man by appearance alone. He had truly gone through quite the transformation.

And, while he had been the smallest among the Monastery trainees back in the day, he now possessed the fit, strong body of a warrior. Someone who hadn’t seen him in the last three years would probably have a hard time recognizing him at first. Most frustrating of it all was his height—before Akeru even realized it, Yukiya had gotten taller than him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Akeru cleared his throat. “Indeed. I came here with a message from His Highness Wakamiya.”

“From His Highness?” Yukiya tried to ask back, but someone else's voice overlapped with his.

“Hey!” It was Shigemaru's. From where, Akeru couldn't tell. “We'll end up overhearing the conversation if we stay here, is that fine with you?”

Before Akeru got the chance to ask where he was, Shigemaru pulled up the edge of the tent right behind Yukiya and popped his head in. “Hey, Akeru!”

“Shigemaru! What are you doing here?”

“It's not only me, Chihaya is here too. I was making some tea for my best friend, being as he is in the middle of the Trial of Storm and all, but I guess it may be best for us to leave now?”

Shigemaru attempted to retreat, but Akeru stopped him. “No, you can stay. You two are going to be the second and third of the class after all, right? You'll be tasked with His Highness’ protection in the near future anyway, so it may actually be for the best.”

Besides, Shigemaru and Chihaya had already met Wakamiya on multiple occasions before and, being Yukiya and Akeru's friends, the people in Wakamiya's Faction had regarded them as allies for a long time now. What was even the point of keeping them out after all that?

“Really? Then, please, wait for just a bit!”

Shortly after Shigemaru's face vanished from the tent, he and Chihaya came in. This time, actually through the door.

“Hey, little Lord, a messenger this time? I see you're right at home with menial work.”

“Shut your trap, you poor bastard.”

The instant they saw each other, Akeru and Chihaya proceeded to exchange quite vicious greetings. The latter was carrying bamboo tea cups, while Shigemaru held a steaming iron kettle in his hands.

They all pushed aside the stand with the maps and, after spreading a mat on the ground, sat down in a circle.

“It's low-grade tea, but if that’s fine with you—”

“Thank you.”

After wetting his lips with the tea Shigemaru courteously poured for him, Akeru took a bunch of papers out of a bundled package he had brought with him. “First of all, take a look at this.”

Yukiya took the papers offered, all while Chihaya and Shigemaru peeked over his shoulder to check the contents. “Wait, what the hell is this?”

The paper was filled with a tiny grid broken down by lines. Shigemaru and Chihaya looked at it with puzzlement, yet Yukiya seemed to figure it out quite fast. “Is this one of those ‘statistical graphs' from the Outside?”

“That it is. At Wakamiya's request, we checked the records of the last hundred years and gathered data on the water levels in Center Mountain and its surroundings using this Outside-style methodology. Can you read it? The vertical lines on the grid represent the amount of water and the horizontal ones the time.”

Yukiya seemed to grasp his instructions almost immediately. He followed the lines with his finger and let out a soft ‘I see’. “It does make it quite easy to see the evolution over time.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Yukiya left the paper on the mat so Shigemaru and Chihaya had an easier time seeing it. “In short, the more this line goes up, the more water we had at the time. The opposite is also true, the lower it goes, the less water.”

If one paid attention to the general evolution, although the line would go up and down again and again, the overall tendency was down. Thanks to Yukiya’s explanation as he traced the line with his finger, Chihaya finally grasped its meaning as well and gave a questioning look to Akeru. “The water at Center Mountain is—dwindling down?”

“That seems to be the case.”

Supporting the Imperial Court's investigation were the plentiful cases of wells drying down in the Center area during the past few years. The Center Mountain had always been blessed with plentiful water, however, with a multitude of waterfalls sprouting directly from its surface. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Residences of the Center’s many noble families had been built as if stitching them together, speckled in whatever space the waterfalls left.

Both Chihaya and Shigemaru had confusion written all over their faces. After all, why was it such a big deal if the water levels went down a bit?

“It’s normal if you can't figure out what this means with only a graph. But, try to remember,” Akeru told them solemnly. “Have you forgotten what route the Monkeys used to invade us four years ago? A dried up well.”

Tension rose among the group the moment the Monkeys came up in conversation.

“...... So this talk concerns the Monkeys?” Shigemaru asked in a quiet voice.

“Indeed it does. And it's an urgent matter,” Akeru replied. “Ever since the Monkeys’ first invasion four years ago, the Imperial Court has been examining all the wells and caves in the Center.”

Ultimately, they didn't find any other potential invasion route besides the initial dried up well—or so said the official report. “But, in reality, there are more passages than the one the Imperial Court has under its control.”

“What!?” Shigemaru yelled out of sheer shock.

Yukiya, taking Akeru's role in the conversation, explained, “No need to worry. The other known passage is already sealed and there should be people keeping proper watch over it too.”

After taking in Yukiya’s behavior, Shigemaru blinked in surprise. “I see, so you already knew about the place.”

“I do know about it, yes. After all, I was the one who personally confirmed its existence in the first place. I went through it with my own feet and even saw the Monkeys there with my own eyes,” Yukiya confessed, his tone as if he hadn’t said anything special.

“Just what kind of crazy life are you leading……” Shigemaru muttered with exasperation.

“Back to the topic. What’s the relationship between the Monkeys and the water?” Chihaya, fed up with waiting for answers, asked.

In response, Akeru looked directly at Yukiya. “Then, let's ask Yukiya as he knows these passages from firsthand experience. Is there anything in common between the well the Monkeys used as an entrance and the passage you went through?”

Like a trainee replying to the Instructor's questions in theory class, Yukiya gave Akeru a quick answer. “One could say that, geographically speaking, both were either holes or underground pathways excavated to lead deep under Center Mountain.”

“Then, this is a question for you, who has actually traversed such an underground pathway. What did you have to go through to reach the Monkeys’ territory?”

“What—?” Yukiya was stumped for a second, but it didn’t last long. “...... Water. Now that you mention it, I dove through a mysterious underground lake. Shining water poured on it. The Monkeys were right there after I surfaced.”

“That's it!”

The invasion route that the Imperial Court sealed was a hole opened on the well's very walls. It had once been filled with water, which meant there was no way for the Monkeys to come in from there. So, if one were to assume the Monkeys invaded thanks to the well drying up, and that this was due to the water levels on Center Mountain going down— “Then we could conclude that what separates us from the Monkeys’ den is actually the water itself. Or so His Highness Wakamiya thinks.”

After investigating the matter on Wakamiya's orders, it became clear that—though not without its ups and downs—the overall tendency for the water quantities flowing from the Center Mountain to Yamauchi’s different regions had been solidly downwards. “To top it all off, we got a report saying that the water coming out through the Center's waterfalls had suddenly gone down these last two or three days.”

“These last two or three days……?” Shigemaru murmured weakly. Although Yukiya and Chihaya didn't say anything, the look in their eyes had clearly gotten sharper.

“If it's all groundless concerns, that’s great, but His Highness has been saying he has ‘a bad feeling about it’ nonstop ever since.”

Yukiya groaned the second he heard that. “Now that sucks. The True Golden Raven's instinct is virtually no different from a prophecy. If His Highness Wakamiya is actually saying that, something is going to happen in the near future for sure.”

“We have eyes on any suspicious spots that were found during last time's investigation. The Yamauchi Guard is on the move already, but the area to cover is way too wide. Especially because, if the worst comes to pass, they could end up in a skirmish against the Monkeys.” In short, they were sorely and utterly lacking in manpower. “That’s why His Highness Wakamiya orders you to join the search as soon as the Trial is over.”

“Understood, so I will,” Yukiya said as he straightened his back. “Tell His Highness that I’ll be joining them as soon as I’ve taken care of things here. The Trial of Storm will be all over after tomorrow's match.”

“Got it.”

“My Trial of Storm is all finished, though,” Shigemaru energetically leaned forwards. “I may not be an official Yamauchi Guard yet, but could I still help out?”

“I'll go too.”

Akeru nodded in approval at Shigemaru and Chihaya's requests. “I'm sure His Highness Wakamiya will be glad to hear you say that.”

Yukiya, meanwhile, watched the three of them, all ready to leave that very moment, with a downturned mouth. “Honestly��? I would rather go with you all right now.”

“But you can't,” Akeru flat-out refused to hear Yukiya's complaints on the matter. “Even if we assume a disaster of some kind is going to happen, we can't tell when that will be. It could be tomorrow, in ten days or even a whole month from now. To have you fail out because of this would be completely laughable. Let me give you a message: ‘Yukiya, don’t panic, and come with us only after you've actually finished everything you have pending. We'll talk after that—’ Word for word. It comes not from His Highness, but his wife.”

“Eh—” Yukiya blinked in surprise. “Sakura no Kimi told you that?”

“That she did, and His Highness too. When he heard her say that, he went ‘well, Yukiya is probably well aware of that without anyone's intervention, but tell him I'm of the same opinion just in case’.”

Yukiya bitterly held his head in his hands. “...... Then, please tell not only His Highness but Sakura no Kimi as well that I said ‘understood’. I'll go with them after the Trial of Storm without fail.”

“Got it. And you better not go and screw it all up at the very last moment and lose.”

Yukiya's lips curved into a sly grin.

“Who the hell do you think you're talking to?”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Akeru and the others left. The tent fell into silence and Yukiya sighed. “Well, then.”

The topographical map he had been checking represented the entirety of the surrounding terrain. He had already finished a preliminary inspection when the sun was still high in the sky—the terrain was quite craggy and there was a tunnel one could use as a shortcut if so desired. If he attempted to win in a reliable and steady manner, tomorrow's battle could turn out to be quite complex.

Of course, he wasn't concerned with losing at all, no matter how complicated the battlefield got. He had trained at this field many times before and his opponent was one of his fellow Evergreens—he knew him quite well after three whole years spent together.

What worried him wasn't victory, but rather the time spent on the test itself.

There were Seeds unaccustomed to mock battles taking part this time, so he wanted to avoid any overly intricate strategies and, after hearing what Akeru had to say, the only thing he wanted was to be done as soon as possible so he could join Wakamiya and the rest in the search. He had intended to win in a conventional manner, but it seemed like it was time to change plans post-haste.

“Evergreen Yukiya, I brought you dinner.”

“Come in.”

“Sorry to intrude,” Haruma said politely before coming in, leaving a four-legged tray with food on it in front of Yukiya. Haruma had grilled some mochi with miso sauce he had brought from the kitchen, from the looks of it. It smelled wonderful. “So, everyone has gone back.”

“Yes, I'm sorry. After you went through all that trouble to make this for everyone.”

“Don't worry. I'll bring the leftovers with me and share it with the other Seeds.” Haruma had done him the favor of preparing dinner for him, Shigemaru and the others at a spot somewhat away from the tent. He truly was a well put together junior—he was so casually considerate. Always careful to not be a bother to him.

“Ah, about tomorrow. I'm thinking of giving you command over a detached force.”

Taken by surprise, Haruma straightened his pose. “Me? Is that truly alright? That's usually a role for a Sapling to……”

“I'll carefully consider the members. There shouldn’t be many complaints if we gather people well acquainted with your talent. I'll leave the decision-making on the field to you,” Yukiya said.

Haruma's expression remained solemn, but his eyes sparkled. “That's such an honor! If I can be of help to you, Evergreen Yukiya, I'll do everything I can!”

“Good. Go rest now then.”

“I will! See you tomorrow.”

Yukiya watched Haruma go with light steps, a smile creeping on his lips.

Haruma himself didn’t seem to realize it, but, to tell the truth, Yukiya had felt suspicious about him when they first met. As a Sapling, the two juniors he had shared a room with had been a terribly insolent pair. They were all obedient now, but that was only because Yukiya had hammered the hierarchy between them physically in their very bones.

On top of that, he was very much aware of the fact that he had been an even more insolent junior himself. Yukiya had been under the conviction that an obedient and meek junior just didn’t exist anywhere in this world.

Which was why Haruma's subservient behavior right out of the gate drove Yukiya to believe he had to be scheming something—what, he didn't know—against him. It took him quite a while to realize that Haruma seemed to be, by all intents and purposes, genuine in his admiration for him. The shock was enough to make him reflect on his life choices.

Haruma joined Yukiya’s Tactical Research Group every single day without fail and would take care of any menial tasks out of his own volition—Yukiya didn't even have to give him the order. Haruma was so ridiculously considerate, Yukiya's peers had started to poke fun at him over how he ‘worked a poor Seed to the bone’.

Then there was Haruma’s talent. He was absolutely brilliant, as expected of someone recommended to the Monastery due to his brains. His practical skills were somewhat concerning, but his skill in Strategy was beyond question. Out of all the juniors currently at the Monastery, he was the one that understood Yukiya's thought process best, hands down.

As time went by, his feelings about Haruma had grown closer to what he felt for his little brother back in the Northern Region than just another simple junior. The boy's future performance wasn’t just somebody else's business to him, he actually looked forward to seeing him grow.

But that wasn’t the matter he should be pondering at the moment—he had a task in front of him to complete.

Under normal circumstances, this would be the time to pull an all-nighter and perfect his strategy, but he was already set on a course of action. He felt sorry for his opponent, but he fully planned to settle things fast the next day. That decided, Yukiya went to sleep early that night.

The next morning, Yukiya woke with the sunrise and immediately took bird form, flying around as he studied the training field from above. The weather was nice that day, no wind worth mentioning. He didn't see anything in particular that could potentially hamper his plan.

With that finished, he returned to the tent where he had spent the night. By that point, the juniors assigned to become part of Yukiya's forces during the test had already begun to gather.

Haruma was in front of them all, waiting eagerly for him. “Good morning! How were the skies?”

“The wind is gentle with no clouds in sight. The best weather conditions for a match.”

“That's good to hear.”

Yukiya took human form as he answered, quickly retying his Ornamented Blade in the process. “I'll be relying on you today.”

“Leave it to me.”

They all lined up in the plaza where the tent was. A while later, the Instructors that would act as lookouts arrived from the Unbending Reed Monastery. White banners were raised across the camp, and the trainees too tied white straps on themselves.

Yukiya’s men totaled to thirty and their only available weapons were bamboo swords and whistling arrows. The goal of the test was to steal the enemy General’s Banner. Those who had their strap stolen by the enemy or who the lookouts judged to have suffered fatal injuries were to abandon the field immediately. They had until midday the following day.

They were waiting in line for the match to start when finally the sound of drums came from afar.

——Yukiya’s last test at the Monastery had begun.

That very second, Yukiya started to give instructions to his forces. “Haruma, take your three men and leave immediately towards the enemy’s side through the nearby tunnel.”

“Yes!”

“Now, everyone else. We’ll leave one person behind to protect the General’s Banner and then march all together towards the enemy’s camp.”

After the instructions, the juniors looked at Yukiya with complete disbelief. His assigned lieutenant, a Sapling, even let out a surprised gasp before asking him in a high-pitched tone, “But—what about scouts? And why leave only one person to take care of the General’s Banner—”

“One will be enough. This is a swift attack, our true enemy is actually time.”

In these field practices, the key to victory truly lay in who managed to pressure the opponent’s forces into dispersing. If Yukiya considered his rival’s records up until that moment, his chosen strategy would surely be what they called the ‘badger’. It used a minimal amount of scouts, assigning all remaining forces to defend the General’s Banner instead.

There was also the fact that his opponent had faced defeat at Yukiya’s hands way too many times and had gotten very cautious around him. That surely meant that, at the very start of the encounter, he would send out a lot more scouts than his usual.

“I would assume he’ll send seven scouts at the least. He'll also be worried about the tunnel and send people to guard it, so the number of people away from camp could easily increase by another four or five. Even if some of them realize what we’re trying to do and return to camp, that still means about two or three people less to fight. If my calculations are correct, we’ll be facing only around twenty men once we actually arrive there.”

If the enemy planned to go on the defensive anyway, then the best chance to attack was now, when he didn’t have any information on Yukiya’s forces yet and hadn’t fully solidified his formation.

“Depending on the circumstances, we may even be able to start the battle without their scouts ever returning,” Yukiya declared as he jumped on the back of one of his juniors, shifted already into a horse.

The Sapling turned lieutenant smiled ever so subtly. “And… that’s why you think only one man is enough to defend our Banner…?”

Their loss condition relied on one of the enemy’s scouts coming over to check on them and, having found out about the empty camp, deciding to charge all by himself in the time it took them to launch their all-out attack. However, the prospects were positive. As long as they left someone specialized in archery and with plenty of whistling arrows, Yukiya believed that the trainee should be able to take any enemy scout out without even needing to engage in close combat.

The main source of concern was, then, the tunnel—it would be bad news if the opponent were to use it to send out advanced troops directly to Yukiya’s camp without him noticing. Hence he had sent Haruma there.

“Let’s finish this quickly.”

“Yes!”

They headed out towards the enemy’s camp at full speed. Upon arrival, and just as Yukiya had expected, there were only nineteen boys with red straps hurrying to and fro at the enemy’s camp. Yukiya saw a few of them shift into bird form in an attempt to fight back—with that, the battle was all but won in his eyes.

“Disperse!”

Following Yukiya’s order, the big group of trainees following him cleanly divided into three platoons. Just as they had agreed beforehand, the two platoons on the sides approached the enemy’s camp as they dodged any arrows coming from above. Some of them were intercepted by the opposite side’s bird-shaped men, ending up in a fight, and others took a clean hit from the whistling arrows, but most managed to survive the charge.

Although the red-strapped soldiers on the ground fought back valiantly, the vast majority of Yukiya’s last platoon proceeded to then charge from above. They weren’t given enough time to even release their second round of arrows.

Yukiya spearheaded the descending group, flying right into the heat of the battle and slashing down four or five of the opponent’s men with his bamboo sword. The attack opened the way for one of the Saplings on his side to make a run for it and take the General’s Banner.

“Taken!” the boy yelled between pants, raising the Banner up high for everyone to see.

One of the Lookout Instructors beat the drum.

——And with that, the match was over.

“......And I thought that just this last time I could get back at you. What are you? A demon?”

“People often call me that, yes.”

After the match, no commending each other’s big efforts or any emotive scene like that took place. Instead, Sadamori made his forces line up and verified the actual losses on his side while he headed towards Yukiya with a bitter look on his face.

“Sadamori, for the record, you should have instructed your troops at the start on what they should do when fighting back, whether it is using bows and arrows or transforming into bird shape to go for the melee—one or the other. Otherwise, they can just end up hitting each other. Besides, the Seeds are unused to field drills like this so they’ll just get confused without it, you know.”

“That’s a very fair point, and I thank you for your feedback. But, you see, you attacked before I even had the time to give such instructions! Dammit!” Sadamori bitterly cursed him.

Sadamori had, apparently, seen Yukiya as a rival when they first arrived at the Monastery. Because of that, they hadn’t grown particularly close until they became Evergreens despite both of them being from the North. Sadamori was quite the sore loser but, despite that, he had proven to be quite the good-natured man once Yukiya got to actually talk with him.

“It really annoys me, but this confirms your graduation as the first of the class, right? It was a given, I guess, but still. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Good job from you as well, finishing the Trial of Storm.”

Once they verified everything, they learned that the ‘dead’ on each side had totaled to three for red and seven for white. Meanwhile, three lost their strap on the red side, two on the white. A victory was a victory, but Yukiya’s side had suffered the bigger losses.

Now that he reflected on it, Yukiya realized how reckless his approach may have been. Then, just as he was considering asking Haruma for his opinion on the matter as well, Yukiya noticed that the members of his detached force hadn’t returned yet—it was taking them too long.

“Hey, did you send someone to the tunnel this time?”

“No? I sent guards to the entrance, but they’re all back by now.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Maybe they hadn’t heard the drum beat from inside the tunnel? Yukiya turned his gaze towards the direction where the tunnel’s exit was. There, he happened to find a dark shadow flying in their direction amid the blue sky.

‘There they are’, Yukiya thought to himself at first, but he soon realized something was amiss. His detached unit was supposed to have four men including Haruma, yet he could only see one shadow approaching them. And the way he flew—as if he were panicking. The shadow got closer, and the odd sound of his desperate caws reached them.

The deja vu was unbearable.

Four years ago. The sight of a Yatagarasu flying through the blue sky between cries. Yet another tragic victim of the circumstances, and then what befell Yukiya’s homeland right after—

The Yatagarasu reached them, transforming back into human form as he fell to the ground in front of the other juniors, who had been busy cleaning up the camp. Yukiya pushed away the surrounding crowd and dashed towards him, all to reach the boy before anyone else.

“Koroku?”

He turned out to be one of the Saplings in his detached force. His expression was completely unlike anything he wore when he left camp—it was one of pure, dark terror.

“Evergreen Yukiya……”

“Yes!? Tell me, what happened?”

“The Monkeys appeared.”

For a second, it was as if the world around Yukiya had gone silent.

The next, rising tension made his five senses all the sharper. His heart beat so loudly against his chest that he could almost hear it thumping in his head.

Yukiya asked in a roar, “How many!?”

“I only saw one. It came from behind us all of a sudden and—I wanted to help fight, but we didn’t have anything worth calling a weapon……”

“Then? What about the rest?”

“I don’t know! I just thought I had to at least warn everyone—What should I do? I… I left Haruma, Teppei and Akitoki behind!” Koroku shrieked, having just realized what he had done.

Yukiya left him to it and instead turned towards the petrified trainees behind him. “Bring the Lookout Instructors here right now! And go contact the nearest Guard Station! Tell them to bring every single one of their soldiers and weapons here to block the northern tunnel!”

Following Yukiya’s incisive orders, a few of the trainees sprinted away in a way that resembled headless chickens. With that done, Yukiya returned his gaze to Koroku and quickly spoke, “To leave and warn everyone because you had no weapons was the correct choice. You must precisely tell the Instructors everything that happened when they arrive here. It’ll help us save our companions, got it?”

Koroku nodded as he shook uncontrollably. Having seen that, Yukiya stood up. “I’ll go to the nearest entrance. Sadamori, go to the opposite one and stand guard there until the reinforcements arrive. Don’t go down until we get those weapons.”

“Understood,” Sadamori immediately responded to Yukiya’s orders, a strained look on his face.

“All remaining Saplings, divide into two groups and follow us!”

Yukiya transformed into bird shape and left for the tunnel as fast as he could. A short trip later, they found the entrance. There, a transformed boy struggled as he tried to take off while another, sunken on the ground, looked into the dark depths of the cavern. Once Yukiya confirmed that there were no Monkeys around, he landed as he returned to human form.

“Teppei, Akitoki! Are you alright!?”

The one in bird form cawed without transforming, clearly maddened by the experience. The other one—Akitoki—was still motionless, but he whispered his name in a daze, “Evergreen Yukiya……”

“What’s wrong? Where’s Haruma?”

“Haruma—The Monkey took Haruma with it.”

——It… took Haruma?

Yukiya froze in place. Instantly, Akitoki’s face twisted horribly. “If only he hadn’t protected us! We tried to recover him, but that guy was too strong, it shook me off and my shoulder—”

That was when Yukiya noticed it—Akitoki’s arm was bent in an odd direction, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. All choked up, Yukiya forced himself to nod his head, “I know. This isn’t your fault.”

——The Monkeys had… taken Haruma.

“Evergreen Yukiya, we should go!” The Saplings following him yelled as they caught up to him.

“We can’t!” Yukiya answered. “With no weapons, we are just as powerless as they were to fight them.”

“Are you telling us to give up then!? Haruma may end up dead while we’re standing here!”

“But we can’t die in vain here,” Yukiya insisted resolutely. He heard the sound of breath catching sharply in the Sapling’s throat, but the boy didn’t press the matter any further.

In the end, they managed to send away Teppei, who had hurt his wing, and have Yukiya fix Akitoki’s dislocated shoulder by the time the soldiers arrived with the weapons. Akitoki remained conscious, although pale as a sheet, so ultimately Yukiya and the soldiers brought him with them as they finally went inside the cave.

“This is where we were assaulted.” The spot Akitoki pointed out connected to a subterranean stream, the only part of the tunnel to do so. It was off to the side in a slightly open corner—there, if you climbed down a bit from the more-or-less maintained path, was running water. The current made a soft rumble as it went.

Yukiya had gone down there during the preliminary inspection the day before. Bitterest regret filled him—why didn’t he even consider this possibility?

The Center. Flowing water.

It was such a perfect match for an entry route! They had discussed what the Monkeys’ infiltration conditions were just yesterday.

Yukiya then went down into the stream itself, looking in the direction the water came from. It was a dark cavern, no light whatsoever came from it. Yet there was no mistake, it had to connect to the Monkeys’ territory. He wanted nothing more than to go right after them and save Haruma, but— Yukiya bit his lips.

“Evergreen Yukiya,” someone on the path, where everyone else was waiting, called for him at that moment.

“Yes?”

“Look at this!”

Yukiya ran up to find something fallen in the middle of the road, illuminated by the torches’ light. It was a letter, no matter how one looked at it. The yellowish paper’s quality was atrocious, but he could see the letters written on it with what could be assumed to be ink. It was carefully folded. There, on its front, was the addressee’s name.

——‘To the Golden Raven.’

Next: Yukiya (Part 2)

—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---

1: The ‘teen prodigy’ bit is specifically 麒麟児 (kirinji), which technically means “Qilin colt/filly” but it’s indeed used in japanese to mean ‘child prodigy’. I adapted it into ‘teen’ because of how english works vs. japanese.

#Translation: The Raven of the Empty Coffin #yatagarasu #yatagarasu series #the raven does not choose its master #karasu wa aruji wo erabanai

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xoxorealitygalore · 26 days ago

Text

Nasty Dancer X

Summary: Due to her unyielding confidence, Aphrodite earns her spot on the main roster, becoming The Bloodline's manager — or rather, Sefa's Special Counsel. His Wisewoman. But can she maintain her bold, unapologetic style when faced with her greatest challenge yet: working alongside her ex-boyfriend?

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae @blackchickinthedesert @bratzzzdoll

Nasty Dancer Masterlist

Previous: Chapter Nine

Aphrodite Receiving High Praise From WWE Officials

WWE Superstar Aphrodite is quickly becoming one of the most talked-about performers in the company, earning rave reviews from both fans and officials alike. The rising star has been making waves recently, and WWE officials are taking notice of her exceptional work inside and outside the ring.

Her recent appearance on WWE SmackDown was a major highlight of the week, marking her first televised match since her in-ring debut at the Royal Rumble event on February 1. As the seventh entrant in the women’s Royal Rumble match, Aphrodite made an immediate impact, and fans were buzzing about the potential she showed. However, it was on SmackDown that she truly cemented her place on the main roster.

According to CBS Sports, WWE staffers and talents were seen watching closely in the Gorilla position and other backstage areas as Aphrodite competed in her first WWE TV match. It’s not every day that the company’s internal team watches a performance with such attention, and this level of intrigue speaks volumes about Aphrodite's growing reputation.

One of the key aspects that has garnered widespread praise is her remarkable storytelling ability. Aphrodite's seamless integration into The Bloodline, one of the most prominent factions in WWE history, has only served to elevate her profile. Her natural charisma and knack for building tension in matches and promos have made her a standout performer, even in a group already filled with top-tier talent. Whether it's her interactions with Solo Sikoa, Jey Uso, or other members of the faction, Aphrodite has proven to be an invaluable asset in the ongoing storyline of The Bloodline.

Her storytelling goes beyond the traditional aspects of WWE matches; she brings a depth and emotional resonance that is often lacking in many other performances. Aphrodite's ability to connect with the audience and convey the emotional stakes of a storyline has impressed both her colleagues and WWE officials, positioning her as a future star of the company.

Beyond her in-ring work, the praise for Aphrodite’s commitment to her craft is undeniable. She continues to improve with each appearance, gaining confidence and refining her style. Whether as a dominant force or a subtle character, she’s shown the range needed to thrive in the fast-paced world of WWE.

Looking ahead, the future seems incredibly bright for Aphrodite. With high praise from WWE officials, her role in The Bloodline, and her undeniable talent, it’s clear that this Superstar is poised for greatness. Fans will undoubtedly be watching eagerly as she continues to rise through the ranks of WWE, and with her storytelling abilities and dedication to the craft, it won’t be long before Aphrodite is a household name in the world of professional wrestling.

noitsreallyaphrodite ✓

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noitsreallyaphrodite Through thick and thin, we’ve got each other’s back. #BigBrother 💕

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Aphrodite sat on the edge of her hotel bed, one leg crossed over the other as she absentmindedly gazed out of the window, her eyes catching the fading light of the day.

The bustling streets of Dortmund, Germany, lay below, filled with the usual ebb and flow of locals and tourists alike, each going about their day without a thought of the incredible spectacle that would soon unfold inside the city’s massive arena. She was here for the Road to WrestleMania tour, a journey that saw WWE Superstars traveling across Europe, visiting eleven cities over three weeks to connect with the fans who had supported them through thick and thin.

At the moment, Aphrodite was listening to the familiar voice of her older brother, Lykos, over the phone as she finished seeing her ring gear.

“So, we’re thinking about matching tattoos,” Lykos said, his voice laced with a hint of excitement. He was always the creative one in the family, the one who dreamed up the most outlandish ideas that, more often than not, became reality. Aphrodite smiled softly at his words, leaning back against the pillows, her fingers absently stitching the fabrics of her wrestling top as she listened intently.

Matching tattoos were a tradition among her siblings, something they’d done to honor their shared bond. Aphrodite wasn’t sure when it had started, but it had become a ritual of sorts. Their names were all derived from Greek mythology, a connection to their Greek heritage that their parents had instilled in them from a young age. Each sibling carried with them the names of gods, goddesses, and mythical figures. Tiasa, Bia, Cyrene, Adonis, Lykos, and Xylon.

Her brother’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she focused again on his words. “Shit, it’s between getting the planets representing each sibling and the larger circle being the order we were born or a Greek symbol of our names with Roman numerals of the order we were born,” he said, his excitement clear. Lykos always had a flair for the dramatic, and even something as simple as a tattoo design became an elaborate, thoughtful discussion.

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow as she processed the idea. A celestial theme was fitting. The planets seemed like a symbol of their individual personalities, each orbiting the other in a delicate dance. It was something that could bind them together while also celebrating their uniqueness.

The other design, a Greek symbol tied to their names, with Roman numerals marking the order in which they were born felt more personal, more intimate. It wasn’t just about the symbolism; it was about the story behind the design, the invisible thread that connected each sibling to the others. Aphrodite found herself torn between the two ideas.

“Well, let me know which one y’all pick,” she finally replied, her voice warm but thoughtful. She didn’t have a strong preference for either design, but it was important to her that whatever they chose would represent their bond in a way that felt true to who they were. Family was everything, after all.

Before Lykos could respond, Aphrodite heard the door to her hotel room creak open, and her eyes flickered toward the figure that entered. Joseph walked in with a bag of food in his hands, his face lighting up as he saw her sitting there, phone pressed to her ear. “Bye,” Aphrodite said as she rushes off the phone with her brother.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he set the bag down on the small table beside her, his teasing tone cutting through the conversation.

“Damn, Dottie, over some food and a man. Cold, bye,” Lykos joked from the other end of the line.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’ll talk to you later, Lykos,” she said, cutting the call short with a playful tone. “Love you, brother.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lykos said before hanging up.

As Aphrodite placed the phone on the bedside table, she turned her attention fully to Joseph, who was already unpacking the food he had brought. His presence was comforting. She had been traveling nonstop, moving from city to city, with no time to catch her breath. But in moments like this, with him by her side, everything felt just a little more manageable.

Joseph had always been the calm to her storm. Where Aphrodite was passionate and sometimes impulsive, Joseph was grounded and patient, qualities that had drawn her to him in the first place. They balanced each other out in ways that made their relationship feel effortless.

“So, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Aphrodite asked, her voice light and playful as she reached for a fork from the tray.

Joseph paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at her. He wasn’t a man who cared for extravagant celebrations or grand gestures. He’d always been the type who found joy in the small, intimate moments. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we do on my birthday,” he said, his voice sincere and steady.

Aphrodite’s heart fluttered at his words, but she couldn’t help the pang of guilt that tugged at her. Joseph’s birthday would fall during their time in Belgium, and though she would be there with him, the constant whirlwind of their schedules and the pressures of being part of the WWE roster made it difficult to plan something special. Still, she was determined to make it memorable for him in her own way.

She pouted slightly as she looked at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. “We’ll be in Belgium, Sefa,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of playful resignation.

“I don’t care,” Joseph replied, brushing off her concerns with a shrug. “I’ll be with you, and that’s what matters.”

Aphrodite smiled softly, feeling a rush of affection for him. She knew he didn’t need grand gestures, but she still wanted to do something meaningful, something that would show him just how much he meant to her. “I’ll figure it out,” she said, her mind already whirring with possibilities as she thought about what they could do together in Belgium. Perhaps a quiet dinner in a charming café, or a private stroll through the historic streets of Brussels, away from the chaos of the tour. The idea of spending a simple yet intimate day with Joseph felt like the perfect gift, one that didn’t need to be extravagant to hold meaning.

As the evening stretched on, Aphrodite and Joseph shared a quiet meal together, the world outside their hotel room fading into the background.

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noitsreallyaphrodite Wishing the happiest of birthdays to someone truly exceptional.

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rikishi #BlessedAndChosen

Over the next few days, as the WWE Road to WrestleMania tour continued its journey through Europe, Aphrodite found herself thinking more and more about her family. Her brother’s tattoo idea had sparked something within her.

Being away from her siblings during this time made her miss them in ways she hadn’t anticipated. They had always been a constant in her life, and despite her busy schedule and the chaos that came with her profession, she couldn’t help but feel sad she wasn't experiencing this with her siblings.

As she traveled from city to city, from the bright lights of Barcelona to the historic streets of Vienna, she found herself thinking about her siblings.

They were her foundation, the ones who had shaped her into the person she had become. And though she stood on the grandest stage of them all, WWE’s WrestleMania, with millions watching her every move, it was moments like these, small, quiet moments with the people she loved that reminded her of what truly mattered.

The time in Belgium arrived sooner than she expected, and as she and Joseph explored the charming city, Aphrodite found herself filled with gratitude for the life she had built, both in the ring and beyond. The world of WWE was exhilarating, but it was the connections she had with her family and the people she loved that truly grounded her.

And so, as the countdown to WrestleMania continued, Aphrodite embraced the moments of peace and reflection, knowing that no matter where her journey took her, she would always have the love and support of those who mattered most. And that, in the end, was more than enough to keep her going.

The air in Belgium was crisp as the day unfolded in all its charm. The quaint cobblestone streets of Brussels, with their medieval buildings and rich history, wrapped themselves around Aphrodite and Joseph as they wandered hand in hand, their laughter echoing against the narrow alleyways.

It was Joseph’s birthday, and despite the whirlwind of their WWE schedules, Aphrodite was determined to give him a special day, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos.

She had planned the day with meticulous care, wanting to blend the beauty of the city with simple pleasures that Joseph would appreciate. Their first stop was the Cathedral of St. Michael, an awe-inspiring structure with towering spires that seemed to scrape the sky. Inside, the light filtered through colorful stained-glass windows, casting hues of ruby, sapphire, and emerald across the cool stone floors. The silence of the cathedral felt almost sacred, a quiet contrast to the outside world. Aphrodite could see the wonder in Joseph’s eyes as he took in the grandeur of the space. It wasn’t just the architecture that fascinated him. It was the history, the stories imbued in every stone and every corner.

Next, they went to the Grand Place, Brussels’ central square, surrounded by opulent guild halls and the striking Town Hall. The square was alive with tourists and locals alike, all drawn to the beauty of the ornate buildings and the rich culture of the city. Aphrodite took Joseph's hand, guiding him through the crowds as they marveled at the stunning architecture and vibrant life around them. For a moment, it felt as though time slowed down, just the two of them in the heart of a city that had seen centuries of history.

Their day wasn’t complete without indulging in one of Belgium’s greatest culinary delights: waffles. Aphrodite had insisted they stop by Maison Dandy, a famous spot known for its decadent waffles. They sat at a small table near the window, savoring the warm, golden treats dusted with powdered sugar, and for once, no cameras were flashing, no fans calling out their names just the two of them, enjoying the sweetness of the moment. Joseph’s eyes twinkled with appreciation as he took a bite, his laughter light and carefree.

As the afternoon sun began to dip, casting a warm glow over the city, Aphrodite knew it was time for the second part of her surprise. Later that evening, when they returned to their hotel room, she had arranged for a small, intimate gathering. The room was filled with a sense of quiet excitement, as Joseph’s brothers and cousins arrived, each one with a grin on their face, knowing what was coming.

The cake, a rich, decadent chocolate creation, sat on the table in the middle of the room, surrounded by candles ready to be lit. Aphrodite could feel her heart race as she gave Joseph a playful nudge, signaling that it was time for the celebration to begin. The door opened, and one by one, Joseph’s family filed in, their voices rising in cheerful unison as they began to sing "Happy Birthday."

Jon was the first to stand and deliver his usual theatrics. With an exaggerated gasp, he clutched his chest as though overcome with emotion. “Oh, my baby brother!” he cried dramatically, throwing his arms wide as though preparing for a grand monologue. Aphrodite couldn’t help but smile at Jon’s antics. He was always the dramatic one, the life of the party, and tonight, it seemed, was no exception. His voice cracked as he continued, making everyone chuckle. “I remember the day you were born, Joseph. You were so small, so innocent, and now look at you! I’m so proud of you. I love you more than words can say.”

The room was filled with a mixture of laughter and affection, but then, to everyone’s surprise, Jon’s voice wavered. His theatrical sobs became genuine as tears welled up in his eyes. “I just—” His words were lost as he wiped his eyes, still trying to compose himself, though his emotions had overtaken him.

Joseph stood there, not surprised, as Jon’s emotional display turned into full-on crying. And to everyone’s shock, Jon wasn’t the only one who broke down. Joshua, stood next to him, his own eyes welling up with tears as he put a comforting hand on Jon’s shoulder.

Joseph moved to comfort his older brothers. He chuckled softly, a warm, affectionate laugh that seemed to put everyone at ease. “Come on, you two,” Joseph said, wrapping his arms around both of them. “You guys are such babies.”

As he comforted them, Aphrodite watched the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and tenderness. It was a side of Joseph she rarely got to see. The loving, patient baby brother who had to calm his much more emotionally charged siblings. It reminded her of just how deeply Joseph cared for those around him, how much he was rooted in family.

“I forget how emotional those two can be,” Trinity whispered with a grin, her voice filled with affectionate teasing.

Aphrodite nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Yeah, they always put on a show, don’t they?”

Trinity shook her head in amusement. “I swear they do.”

The night continued with laughter, cake, and more shared stories from their childhood. Jon and Joshua eventually calmed down, wiping their tears and regaining their composure, though they still offered teasing glances at Joseph. Their bond, though often tested by distance and the chaos of their respective careers, was unshakeable. It was clear that family was everything to them, and tonight, Joseph’s birthday was a testament to that.

As the evening wore on and the last of the cake was eaten, Aphrodite pulled Joseph aside for a quiet moment. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with affection, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I’m so glad we could be here together,” she murmured, her voice low and sincere.

He smiled down at her, his eyes soft with gratitude. “Me too.”

As Joseph wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, Aphrodite felt a sense of contentment settle over her. This was what mattered. This was what she had always been fighting for, these quiet, tender moments, where the world stopped and all that mattered was the love they shared.

Next: Chapter Eleven

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months ago

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S.V. Dáte at HuffPost:

WASHINGTON ― The White House’s favored new reporter, the one who scolded Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy for not wearing a suit, was the primary voice at a “news” outlet that has taken $192,000 from President Donald Trump’s political committees, nearly half of which came while he was program director there. Brian Glenn now works for a pro-Trump streaming platform called Real America’s Voice, but from September 2020 to May 2024, he was the most visible face at Right Side Broadcasting Network. Over those years, the outlet took $92,000 in “broadcast” fees, first from Trump’s Save America committee and then from Trump’s campaign, according to a HuffPost review of Federal Election Commission filings. Glenn acknowledged the payments in a brief interview, describing them as “production” costs, and then pointed to the row of television cameras set up in the back of the White House briefing room. “Who pays for them?” he asked, suggesting that the major networks like NBC, CNN and Fox also accept money from the entities they cover. In fact, taking such payments would be considered a serious ethical breach among reputable news outlets. The television networks covering this and previous White Houses, as well as print and radio outlets, all pay their own expenses when covering political events, as does HuffPost. Indeed, the Trump administration, including the White House, has falsely accused legitimate news organizations of corruption because government agencies, even those in the first Trump term, bought subscriptions from them, including some to expensive, lobbyist-oriented trade publications. Karoline Leavitt, the White House press secretary who had worked on Trump’s campaign, also acknowledged the payments. “The Trump campaign paid RSBN for the usage of their live stream,” she said. She did not address HuffPost’s question regarding the ethics of an outlet accepting money from the subject it was covering. Those payments continued after Glenn left RSBN to join Real America’s Voice last spring. The campaign gave the online video outlet an additional $100,000 from June 2024 through the end of the year, capped off with a $57,000 payment on Nov. 14, the week following the election.

Right-wing outfit Right Side Broadcasting Network (RSBN), where Brian Glenn previously worked before high-tailing it over to another right-wing outfit in Real America’s Voice, took over $192,000 in payments from pro-Trump committees.

#Brian Glenn #Right Side Broadcasting Network #RSBN #Real America's Voice #Marjorie Taylor Greene #White House Press Corps #Donald Trump #Karoline Leavitt

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fishfooddude · 1 year ago

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Married Life