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keeksandgigz · 11 months

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lavender syrup (part one of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: Eddie is the owner of the most popular cafe in his small town, "The Mad Alchemist," you are the owner of the rival cafe "Daily Drug". You obviously hate each other, but when a pipe bursts into your cafe that might take months to repair, your contractor assigns you and your coworkers to work with Eddie in order to keep your job, just until "Daily Drug" is ready to run again. Is tolerating him really that big of a feat?

cw: 4k words, swearing, modern setting, allusions to smut but nothing explicit (yet), Eddie calls reader a bitch a couple times and he's such a condescending asshole but in a hot way, i feel like the sexual tension needs its own tw, Steve is also in this <3

a/n: pls like and reblog and feedback is always so very much appreciated!! my requests are always open if u wanna chat <3

divider by @benkeibear

Eddie Munson wasn’t the type to want much from life. He was content in his little town, managing the coffee shop that kept it alive. From the early morning crew of truckers, farmers, nurses and cops to the 9 am rushes of the corporate job workers from one town over to the yoga moms, the high schoolers after the ring of the last bell. Eddie Munson did not have any big plans for his life. The little coffee shop made him enough money that he was able to take care of his uncle, now retired, and live by himself in a small apartment with his roommate, Steve.

He got an associate’s degree in business, and after that he opened “The Mad Alchemist Cafe,” a DnD themed rustic coffee shop filled with beakers, lights and plants. The exposed brick the “interior designer” (it really was just a friend who had a good eye) begged him to paint over was instead littered with posters of announcements. He would host poetry slams, band performances, most importantly DnD campaigns he'd have to close down the cafe for in the evenings. For a few years he had also been hosting Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners for those who didn’t have a family to go home to for the holidays.

He hired his roommate and closest friend, Steve to be the baker. Straight out of cooking school, Steve Harrington took care of the sweet and savory. The thousand- layer croissants that would melt once slightly placed on the tip of the tongue. Airy, buttery pastry that made Eddie's customers sigh with every bite, as they lingered on the wooden bar, conversing with the baristas. The lunch hour crew, asking for meatball sandwiches and messy pasta bowls. He’d make turkeys for the dinners at the cafe, during the holiday season, along with insurmountable potato dishes and stuffing.

Eddie's life was littered with small sprinkles of joy. Everyone knew him as the kid from the cafe, with his long hair, sticking out of the messy bun he would wear to work. It started off as a joke in middle school, when Eddie's hair was buzzed due to a lice epidemic. Steve had miserably beat him at the arcade. He had grown fond of the long hair though, and added to the mystique of his coffee shop. It was also metal as fuck.

He felt like he was the main accessory to his lovely brick building; there would not have been “The Mad Alchemist Cafe” without Eddie Munson, something that both staff and customers knew. The cafe would also not have been the cafe without the three years long rivalry with the only other cafe on their side of town, “Daily Drug” that opened a year after Eddie’s. The brand new establishment that started taking customers from him, claiming that their chai lattes and breakfast sandwiches were to die for.

Eddie had not interacted much with you, the owner of the cafe. Your bossy, stuck up and overall terrible attitude were a house trade mark there. He had been in the cafe though, and understood why “Daily Drug” was such an incredible contender to his establishment. The ambiance was different, like a Pinterest board had come to life. The pink and blue tile that decorated the walls as well as the ironic bitchy posters that ranged from a snarky “What are you looking at?” to a direct and curt “don’t be an asshole” decorated the walls.

It was nothing like the cafe Eddie had imagined, the colorful palette contrasting with the caricaturistic mean and sarcastic ways of the staff, whose bitterness might have actually improved the taste of their coffee, as their lavender lattes tasted way sweeter, the syrup not overpowering the taste of the coffee, perfectly blended with the best milk for the beverage, which he found was almond.

You could have easily spat in his cup, but you serve him with feigned kindness as you make sure to make him hear a soundly “UGH could he be any more annoying?” to a blonde haired coworker, whose name he finds out later is Colette. Colette erupts in laughter as she serves his lavender latte with an egg and sausage burrito with a side of aggressive side eye. You had definitely spat in his drink.

A fifteen- minute car ride later, Eddie enters his cafe begrudged by his inability to master a lavender latte. The taste of his in- house lavender syrup is too artificial, while “Daily Drug”’s try as he might is a flavor that he had never encountered.

The lavender provides a sweet flavor to the drink that pairs perfectly with the bitter coffee and the creamy taste of the almond milk without the artificial aftertaste. He beelines to the back of the building, to the room he called his lab, setting down his bag on a stool next to him as he takes a bored bite out of the egg and sausage burrito. Hm. Steve's is better.

He jots down some notes in his journal. Try lemon for lavender syrup. Fennel seed in the sausage. Paprika maybe? Definitely garlic. He should have listened to his uncle and he should have gone to cooking school before he had opened the restaurant. He knew that he had the talent for it, Steve had even asked him to apply together, but he felt like it was not his true calling.

“Your true calling is bossing everyone around, Ed” said his uncle with a laugh, one of the many sleepless nights he had spent mulling over the cafe during its early days. A knock startles him from his reverie. It's Steve.

“Hey, didn’t see you come in. Are you still stressing over that lavender syrup thing?” he leans on the doorframe, half smiling at Eddie. He came in too early. Him and Steve were kind of the same in that regard, once haunted by an idea, they would not rest until it was executed.

“What was it this morning? Strawberry frosting on matcha rolls?” says Eddie taking another bite out of his stale burrito.

"Nah, it's for the Halloween special, I'm trying to figure out the menu. We need to remember to add more nutmeg to the pumpkin spice syrup this year" Steve says, crossing his arms.

"Shit, yeah, I almost forgot. Also, this" Eddie shakes his burrito towards his friend "does not compare to yours by, like, miles. The sausage is too dry and the egg too cooked" Steve shrugs and fixes his glasses with a smug smile.

"Knew it." Eddie laughs at that, then proceeds to scribble in his leather bound notebook. Then the phone rings.

"Hey Steve, do you mind getting that?" Eddie says, not moving his head from the notebook.

"You got it boss" Steve heads towards the phone in Eddie's office.

"'Mad Alchemist Cafe' Steve speaking...Mhm...yeah, Eddie's in...oh shit" at that, Eddie turns his head.

"What is it, what's wrong Steve?" his tone alarmed as he paces towards the phone.

"Yeah no he's here you can talk to him, Jim" Steve passes the phone, making a face, the corners of his mouth pulled as if he were in trouble. "It's Jim" his contractor. Fuck.

Eddie presses the phone to his ear "Hey Jim, what's up?" his tone tense and cautious.

"Hey, kid, I don't know how to tell you this, but a pipe burst at 'Daily Drug'" Jim sounds scared, but Eddie is still struggling to figure out what that had to do with him, other than the fact that he would finally get back his traitorous customers who had gone to the dark side when “Daily Drug” opened.

"Yeah, ok, and that's my problem because?" he's annoyed at the ominous way Jim called at 8 in the morning concerned for his rival cafe's burst pipes.

"Are you sitting down, kid?" Ed rolls his eyes, he's getting seriously pissed off at this whole mystery thing his contractor's getting at.

"Yeah, Jim. Fuck sake just spit it out"

"Alright, alright no need to get aggressive" Jim takes a deep breath in "In order for the girls at 'Daily Drug' to keep their jobs you need to hire them, at least until the shop is up and running again." Oh shit indeed. Jim trails off, waiting for a reaction.

"How long Jim?" Eddie's fuming.

"It could take up to six months, really, the pipe fucked up the whole kitchen so they need to redo the back and stuff, hell it might take a year knowing how slow these fuckers operate" Jim exhales, he's probably shaking. Eddie did not make his contempt for “Daily Drug” unknown.

“Jesus Christ Jim you can’t do this to me. You know how much that- that bitch hates me. Everytime I go there I'm pretty sure she spits in my coffee. I'm actually convinced they all do, Jim" he's spiraling.

"C'mon kid, don't be stupid. That would violate an incredibly long amount of regulations and they would need to close down if it were true. Which I don't think it is" Jim sounds like he's finding this amusing now.

"This is not funny. And- and then what? The owner just comes in here and she starts actin' like she owns the place? We start sharing responsibilities? That's real cute, Jim, y'know that? Incredibly cute." Only then Eddie had notices how hard he had been gripping the phone. And the armrest of his chair.

"Eddie, you're throwing a tantrum. The owner doesn't hate you, they're hired under the agency and I just pulled some strings because I know you and these girls- these girls have families to support and I didn't want to scatter them all across town. I know they will be in good hands, they're not your employees, Eddie. Get it in that thick skull or I'm closing your shit down" Fuck. He's backed up into a corner.

"Alright. When do they start?" He grabs a pen and a piece of paper and scribbles Daily Drug start dates.

"Okay, so we have eight employees. Four of them are going across town, I have that cafe there. The rest are going to you- Virginia, Colette, Chrissy and the owner are all going to your cafe. They start tomorrow at 9 am. Better brush up on those training books, kid." Jim snickers.

"You're hilarious, Jim y'know that?" he quickly jots down the names and the time, stopping at your name for a second, before putting an angry face next to it.

"Aw, come on, kid. Maybe it might be a great way for you all to bond and put this stupid rivalry behind"

"Yeah- yeah no, and then we're gonna ride on the rainbow towards a pot of gold and do a little jig. Of course, Jim. I am healed already. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow after everything- if that bitch doesn't put a knife at my throat, speaking of, I should hide them" he seethes.

"Don't stress Ed. You'll be okay, what matters is that-" Jim never gets to finish that sentence, blocked by the violent slam of Eddie's phone back into its socket.

"FUCKING SHIT" he yells, kicking the bottom of his desk.

"I take it wasn't good news?" Steve leans on the threshold of Eddie's office.

"Steve- God I want to punch something. The owner of 'Daily Drug' in here. She's gonna kill me. Hide the knives"

"If I didn't know you like the back of my hand I'd say you're a little scared of her, Ed."

"Have you seen her? She's terrifying. So mean. I'd be turned on if she wasn't my archenemy" and he does have eyes, he thinks you're attractive. He's fantasized about putting you in your place, sometimes. About shutting your mouth up, see how witty you were after he'd make you go dumb from a few rounds.

He shakes his head. He has to stop.

"Well, maybe you can be nice to her so we can steal her lavender syrup recipe" Steve suggests. And as morally wrong as that sounds, you've spit in his drink before, so what's a bit of foul play compared to an FDA violation?

"Steven you might be onto something, but for now let's just worry about surviving tomorrow- God I know it's gonna be awful" Eddie says. As he said that, one of his employees, Jeff, comes knocking at his office.

"Eddie, the owner of the other cafe is here, she's asking for you." Eddie's eyes widen. The fuck is she doing here?

"The fuck- Okay thank you, Jeff. Send her back here." He dismisses his barista and Steve follows him back into the kitchen.

There is no hiding you're angry. Starting a job at a place where you knew everyone hated you seemed a bit of a cunt move from Jim, and there you are. Heading towards Eddie Munson's office, walking like you own the damn place.

"You look a little too sure of yourself for someone who lost their cafe, sweetheart. What is it, hm? What are you doing here?"

His condescending tone only stokes your anger more.

"I just came here to see the place, see if I have to dumb myself down. Maybe you guys don't know what cortados are" Feigned pity in your face.

"If you've come here to be a bitch you can go right home. One call to Jim and I can end this arrangement as quickly as it started, let's not get like that, m'kay?" his smile is devilish and god it's so hard to not find him attractive even when you want to rip him to shreds for threatening you.

"I didn't come here to bitch. I wanted to pick up our aprons? You guys have cute aprons. At least you have good taste in something" you scoff, and he shoots you a look. Fucking brat.

"Yeah- um" Eddie stands up from his desk and reaches for a box in the corner of his office "I'll give you two each. Try to keep 'em clean, I don't like dirty aprons. I've seen how messy you guys are at the cafe, that won't fly here 'kay? We really value cleanliness and order here"

"How clean can a cafe run by a man really be, huh? that's probably why your lights are so dim" he wants to kill you, but also pin you against the wall and shove his tongue down your throat so you can stop talking.

"You've had a long morning, sweetheart. Why don't you go home and sleep it off? I'm afraid you're letting off all this negative energy here and we don't want that. Not here" his tone's more stern rather than joking "I'll see ya bright an' early tomorrow morning at nine. Please don't come late, yeah?" he winks at you, cueing you to leave.

As you cross the threshold of the cafe you cannot possibly fathom what was it that left you so flustered and with an insatiable hunger between your thighs.

You pick up your coworker Colette on the way to work the morning after, presenting her with a bagel and all your rage directed towards Eddie.

“No, Col, you don’t understand. He threatened to call Jim for a little remark. You know how insane that is? He’s gonna use whatever sick power he thinks he has over me to make me stay in line. Nope, no sir not with me” you say, turning into the parking lot of the cafe.

“This Eddie guy really is an asshole, huh?” Colette remarks, getting out of the car.

“You have no idea, it’s like he thinks he’s the shit or something just because the whole town loves him”

“Everyone does love me, sweetheart. Good morning ladies, I’d recommend getting in, you have five minutes.” Eddie's right behind you, closing the trunk of his van, wearing one of his dumb satanic shirts. It's black, arms covered by a ratty black leather jacket. His hair is down and a messenger bag littered with button pins is slung over his shoulder, resting on his hip. All it takes is one snide remark and then he's gone inside the shop.

You don't realize you're staring until Colette pinches the back of your arm, you reach for the affected area. “Babes, not him. Literally anyone but him, you have literally spent the whole car ride talking about how much of an asshole he is”

“I have eyes, Col. He’s hot, and as much as I’d love to sleep with him, my hatred for this asshole is a bit too strong. I’d probably punch him mid- act anyway” you snicker and follow Eddie inside the store. Virginia and Chrissy are already inside, you shoot them a comforting look and a light touch to Virginia’s arm, who seriously lookes like she's about to cry.

“You okay, Gin?” you ask, lightly elbowing her arm.

“No, I- I’m okay. Just nervous, also a bit scared. The boss seems mean” she trembles. She's only seventeen, after all. She's been working since she had been able to, if not before. Taking babysitting jobs until she turned fifteen, then just started taking customer service jobs, until she stumbled inside “Daily Drug,” with the extensive resume she had, she had been easy to hire.

“He’s an asshole, but don’t let him intimidate you. He can’t do anything without Jim’s approval, just remember that, hun” you squeeze her arm as Eddie enters, having shed his jacket, putting his hair up, and tying the purple apron around his waist. A small, golden tag says his name on the right side of his chest.

“Good morning, ladies. My name is Eddie, the owner of this fine establishment” he bows, smirking. “The crew at “Mad Alchemist” is deeply sorry about what happened at your cafe. We will do everything in our power to make you guys feel welcome for your short stay here” at the mention of “short” his eyes dart at you. You’re not the only one who hopes this bullshit will be short, dickhead.

You step forward, putting your best polite face on. “Thanks, Eddie. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to keep working, and we hope to learn from our time here” you say through gritted teeth. Even being that nice to him feels like nails on a chalkboard on your brain. “These are my baristas- Virginia, Chrissy, and Colette, my baker” you point at each of your girls.

“Oh Colette, you’re gonna want to meet with Steve, then- He’s my baker and pastry chef. I’m sure you both have a lot of things to talk about, and a lot of work to do since our Halloween special will be dropping in a week from today” a taut smile appears on his lips.

The guy in the back with the gorgeous head of hair and round glasses whom you assume is Steve waves his hand and Colette shoots you an assuring look before she runs to him, disappearing in the back, where you assume the pastry shop is.

No one to run to now.

"Perfect, shall we begin?" Eddie's voice feels muffled in your ears as he assigns each one of his baristas to one of yours for training. The cafe has just passed its early morning peak time, meaning that in a couple hours you will have a lunch rush. Everything feels like it's moving too fast.

The noises around you become clear again when Eddie grazes the bare skin of your arm. You shiver. Unbeknownst to you, his hand flexes at his side.

"Scared, sweetheart? You look like you've seen a ghost..." his mouth is moving, but you can't understand anything of whatever he's saying. You're unconsciously rubbing the area Eddie had touched, his fingers warm yet rough, from all the times he's had to wash his hands throughout the day.

You haven't noticed until now how thick his fingers are. Suddenly, the feeling of a phantom limb reaching out, wrapping a hand around your throat, gently feeling its way down your neck, your shoulders, your clavicle, down your stomach and into-

"You wanna follow me to my office or what? I have a couple questions for you" Eddie breaks you out of your sick reverie, leaving you a bit flushed in the face, afraid to look at him in the eye.

"Yeah-uh sorry. Lead the way" you say, and suddenly the floor becomes very interesting to look at.

Quickly, everyone gets to work. The girls being taught the house drinks by the guys at the bar, whilst you follow Eddie in his office.

“I just need to know if there’s any schedule preferences from the girls, just in case there’s any conflict. I was thinking, since the Halloween special will be dropping, one of these days you might need to sit in here with me and I’ll give you a proper training of what that entails. Y’know tastings and such.” His demeanor has switched from snarky to utterly professional, for which you thank whatever entity in the sky, allowing you a break from his abrasive behavior.

He sits down at his desk and pulls out a notepad and a pen. He looks at you with waiting eyes.

“Yeah, um, Virginia has school during the week and can’t work until after three and she can only work four hours on weekdays, three days a week and usually a full shift during the weekend. Chrissy and Colette can work whenever, but please don’t schedule Col at the early hours of the mornings, she actually cannot function. She’s more useful to you awake” you let out a breathy laugh, remembering Colette putting salt instead of sugar in a batch of banana bread muffins.

In the meantime, Eddie scribbles on his notepad. You feel uneasy in a room with him without the loud tensions of an argument looming, the blood booming in your ears.

“And you?” he raises an eyebrow, lifting his face from the notepad.

“Oh, I’ll just come in whenever you need me. I really don’t mind, I just need a good amount of hours. I um- I have my dad to take at the hospital on Saturday mornings, but I can come after” you say, your face tinging a bright red.

He scribbles that down, embarrassment visible on your face as the tension in the room becomes suffocating.

“Alright, I’ll have those schedules ready by the end of the day. I need you to come in tomorrow through Wednesday. Opening shift Monday and Tuesday, you’ll close with me and Chrissy on Wednesday. Sounds good?” he keeps writing down in his notepad, you nod. He tuts “I need words, I can’t see you nodding or shaking your head if I’m writing, can I?”

“Y-yeah, that sounds good. Sorry” You feel even more embarrassed, the tops of your ears tinging red.

“Don’t apologize. Just do better next time” Eddie thrums a ringed hand on the edge of his desk. He's never seen you this docile and it puts him off. He was hoping for some snide remark, but you're looking around nervously, playing with the laces of your apron, which he finds enhances the curves and features of your body. Wondering what you’d look like in nothing but that apron, all the exposed skin of your back, shoulders and–

“Are we done here?” there she is. The snarky question makes him jump, thanking the desk for covering the lower half of his body.

“Yeah, I can go train you now, just gimme a sec, I’ll meet you outside” I need to get rid of that boner is what he means, but you don't budge.

“Fuck no, you’re not training me. Gimme someone else” you remark, crossing your arms.

“God there I thought you weren’t gonna be a bitch today.” He exhales. “How many people do you see in the staff, huh? It's Steve, Gareth, Jeff and I. Not much of a merry group. You either let me train you or the door is that way.” you can tell he’s had enough of you, which only stokes your fire even more.

“Literally anyone but you. You can train Virginia, I’m sure you have a bit of heart to not be a dick to a literal child. Not that she even needs training, she has more knowledge and better work ethics than you assholes” you spit, and you’re sure Eddie wants to kill you.

“I don’t tolerate this kind of language in my store. I’m sure that’s what attracted all my customers to your store, but you can shut that filthy mouth in here. Now, you’re gonna go out and wait for me to train you, understood?” he's seething.

“Or what? You can’t do shit Eddie. I’m not your little employee, you can’t fucking threaten me” you're winded, this argument is stupid and you want to punch him.

“Alright” Eddie stands up abruptly and stalks towards you. “train yourself then.”

His tone is calm and collected, which makes you tremble. He's close. Really close.

“I wanna watch you crash and burn and struggle to make a dragon’s breath latte. You don’t want me to train you? Fine. Perfect. The less time I have to spend away from your bitch mouth the better my day will be. Recipe cards are on the counter. Have fun” he taps his hand on your shoulder and gives you a pulled smile, then walks back to his desk.

He's fucking brutal.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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jishyucks · 10 months

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Gleam and Glitter — hhj

‣ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, rich-kid!au

‣ wc: 3.4k

‣ summary: You’ve quickly established that no one at this damn charity gala cares about the event’s purpose. They were just there to party. And you wanted nothing else but to leave; alternatively, in which Hyunjin saves you from your misery to see the city’s Christmas lights.

‣ warnings: lots of being annoyed at the rich (even though reader and hyunjin are rich), 1st world problems, reader’s wearing a dress and heels but no specific pronouns are used (I’m pretty sure), the pair eat some desserts

‣ an: 2nd part for my True Love Gave to Me Series! It's a little slow at first but the parts near the end are cute! Just like the Mark one, I wish I could write more for these two, I srsly think I could've done more but still,,, ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

The venue was beautiful.

The ballroom was transformed into the party’s theme, Winter Wonderland, adorned with white, silver, and royal blue decorations. From the ceiling hung giant snowflakes, lit up with twinkling lights that glowed softly within the dim room.

The dance floor, placed in the middle of the room, was surrounded by tables draped in pearly white table cloths, giving it all a sleek, clean look. You can tell how much planning had gone into the centrepieces—delicate ice-looking glass sculptures of various animals. Within each of them were more lights, drawing out the details of the sculptures.

At the other corner of the room, the live band had already begun their setlist. They were dressed in blue or white, or both, as it was the theme of the party. You couldn’t quite tell what song they were playing, but it sounded nice and classy.

And guests were trickling in, entering the room hand in hand with their plus ones. You can tell that they were all in awe from the scene. I mean you don’t blame them—the scene looked like something straight from a movie. Whoever had planned and decorated the venue knew what they were doing.

The venue was beautiful… Too bad most of the people attending were snobby rich bitches who really don’t deserve anything good (respectfully).

The main purpose of the event was to raise money for charities involving children for god’s sake—sure it was okay to go all out and grab the attention of the wealthy, but it was so painfully obvious that two-thirds of the guests didn’t give a single fuck about the charities. They were just there for the publicity, hoping to look good in front of the press and it pained you.

It pained you because, although you barely had the capacity to have passions for anything, you did know that you wanted to use your money for good. And heavy on the good for children.

The party was now in full swing, guests mingling in practically every corner of the room. The live band had just been replaced with a DJ, party songs blasting through the speakers. A small part of you does want to join in, but you wouldn’t say that you associated yourself with any of the people here.

There was one person who you did love being around—your best friend, Hyunjin—but you simply weren’t sure where he had disappeared off to since you had greeted him at the start of the party.

“Shit.”

You’re not sure how you hear Hyunjin groan as he slumps in the seat next to you. He stretches his back over the chair before falling limp.

You can’t help but laugh, “What’s up with you?” You shift in your own chair to look at him, your blue evening gown getting twisted underneath your ass.

“My parents introduced me to like—I don’t know—six old business owners?” Hyunjin mutters, “I don’t even remember a single one of them.”

“Well, you gotta start working on that future CEO,” you joke, slapping his back, “Don’t wanna be the boss who calls his employees by the wrong name, do you?” You know Hyunjin hates when you call him future CEO, because, well, he doesn’t actually want to take over his father’s company once he retires. But being the only child in his family, it’s a responsibility that he couldn’t really get out of.

“No,” he pouts, lips jutting out.

You let out another laugh, this time rubbing his back to provide some kind of comfort. From a nearby group of people, you hear people laughing, though it didn’t seem genuine. You echo them.

“Y/N, they’re gonna hear you!” Hyunjin nudges your arm. “No they won’t. They’re all just caught up in their own world,” You roll your eyes. Then you dramatically say, “Oh how I wish to leave this place.”

There’s a few beats of silence between the two of you. Just by watching Hyunjin, you can tell he’s thinking, eyes darting back and forth as if he were reading a page of a newspaper.

“Would it be crazy if I asked you to run away with me?”

Your heart misses a beat, “What?”

“Run away with me,” Hyunjin repeats. He’s almost expressionless, staring back at you as he waits for a reply.

You blink at your best friend, utterly confused by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “Hyunjin, you really need to be more specific with your words.”

Hyunjin brings a corner of his mouth up towards one side of his face, trying to word what he was asking of you. It wasn’t that difficult to explain, yet Hyunjin’s short on words right now because of all the introductions he’s just had.

“Do you know what an Irish goodbye is?”

You shake your head, “No? Is that even a thing?”

“It’s when you just leave without telling anyone,” Hyunjin explains, “So… let’s leave without telling anyone.” There’s a youthful glint in his eye and you just know that Hyunjin’s ready to take off. He’s excited, even, just thinking about leaving and getting away from this place. You like the idea, too.

“And do what?” Hyunjin shrugs and your face contorts, laughing, “You’re the one who’s suggesting to leave and you don’t have a plan?”

The smile Hyunjin flashes is one that shows off his bottom teeth, brows raised and eyes widened, “Sorry, I didn’t actually think you’d consider it.”

“Do you even know me?” you scoff, “Of course I wanna leave. Anything to get away from these people.” You scoot forward in anticipation to go, but you still really want to hear what Hyunjin’s plan is.

Hyunjin searches the room as if it were going to hand him the answer. Then he hums and looks back at you, “Do you want to go downtown?”

Without any hesitation you nod, “Yes.”

Hyunijn watches as you scan the room, eyes trying to weed out your parents and his. You could guess they were speaking with people you’ve grown familiar with, so you try to pick them out, too. When you couldn’t spot any of your parents, your eyes darted in Hyunjin’s direction, eyes wide and round. “It’s clear.”

You don’t warn Hyunjin before you shoot up onto your feet, trying your best to keep discrete from any wandering eyes. The heels under your feet almost fail to support your pace, but you pay no mind, eyes dead set on the doorway furthest away from anyone’s attention. Hyunjin’s close at your tail, turning back every few steps to make sure that there was absolutely no one watching you both leave.

The adrenaline’s causing your heart to pump above the average, and you can’t help but let out a laugh the moment you reach the door, soon finding yourself in an empty corridor of the venue (save for the doorman at the front and the woman attending coat check).

Hyunjin stumbles out after you, breathing heavily, “You didn’t even tell me you were going to take off like that!”

Ignoring Hyunjin’s exclamations, you start making your way toward coat check, heels clicking against the marble floor. Hyunjin is unsure how you’re moving so quickly in heels, but he chooses not to question you.

“Y/N~” Hyunjin whines, “Slow down!”

“If we’re not quick we’re going to get caught,” you shoot a reply over your shoulder. You kindly ask for your coats, retrieving them within seconds before you toss Hyunjin his jacket. “Yeah, but we need to wait for Mr. Jang to come pick us up!”

By the time Hyunjin finishes his sentence, you both find yourselves outside of the venue, cold air instantly nipping at your exposed skin. There were cars whizzing past, all probably on their way to your desired destination. Right at the bottom of the steps was a sleek black car, similar to what your family owned, and a man who you recognized as Mr. Jang, the Hwang’s driver.

“So you did plan this!” you look over at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, but Mr. Jang will jump at any chance to actually do something.” The boy leads you down the steps and reaches the vehicle before you do. He greets Mr. Jang with a bow and then tugs on the door’s handle, opening it for you to hop in. You can’t help but giggle at the gesture, giving Hyunjin a look before sliding in. He shuffles in after you, smiling out of excitement.

“Where to, son?”

“Downtown, please.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It’s when you both get to downtown that you realize that neither of you knew where to go.

Sure, the plan was downtown but the city was a big place. Hyunjin should have been more specific, because right now, you were both standing in the middle of a busy street trying to decide which direction to go.

“Close your eyes, spin, and then stop when I tell you,” you suggest to Hyunjin, who’s trying to search his phone for any places you both could visit.

“How about you do it!” Hyunjin’s brows furrow and he pouts, “It sounds like you’re going to ditch me.”

“Now why the hell would I ditch you,” you sigh, “Just do it. I would do it, but I’m in heels.”

You gesture for him to go on with the action, but not before he mutters a ‘the heels didn’t seem like a problem earlier’, earning him a thwack on his shoulder.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hyunjin sticks an arm out, using his index finger to point. Then, he begins to spin clockwise. From an outsider’s glance, this man probably looked ridiculous—he was dressed in formal attire and spinning like a top, almost taking out a few passerbyers in the process.

You were finding this so amusing that you almost forgot that you had to tell him to stop.

And when you tell Hyunjin to stop, he somehow ends up with his finger just inches away from your nose. You burst out laughing, your hands coming up to clutch your stomach because, for one, Hyunjin took the challenge seriously, and two, he looked absolutely ridiculous just standing there eyes closed and pointing.

You don’t notice how Hyunjin’s eyes finally flutter open to see what was going on and how his taut expression relaxes the second they land on your bright figure just laughing, even if it is at his expense. His arm drops to his side, making a muted whap against his jacket. This catches your attention.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping a tear that has managed to slip out of the corner of your eye. And when Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, you take a step closer to him, “Hello?”

“O-okay, so, that way!” Hyunjin’s brought back from space, head shaking. He side steps and walks around you, leading the way down the street while making sure you were following him.

Hyunjin has no idea what just happened. It wasn’t like it was the first time he's seen you happy. In fact, you’ve always been happy around him. So, why did he suddenly freeze seeing you happy this time?

Hyunjin shakes the thought out of his head, dismissing it as the remnants of wine from the party still in his system, and continues walking down the street, just a few paces in front of you.

You and Hyunjin weave through the people walking down the street against you, hands full with shopping bags or stuffed deep into their pockets. The pace Hyunjin had taken began to speed up, as if he had spotted something over the crowd that you couldn’t quite see even with heels.

Glancing back, Hyunjin gently latches onto your wrist, afraid that you’d get lost in the sea of people, pulling you closer before he continues to step through the occasional gaps between bodies.

“Where are we going?” you say out of curiosity. Hyunjin’s too occupied to answer you, still keeping his grasp firm around your wrist. He tugs you along for one more block, and by then you can tell that he did have an idea of where you were. Hyunjin knew where to go.

You feel like you’re able to breathe again when Hyunjin leads you into a plaza, and you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. There was more space for people to walk around, buskers at each corner of the opening, and restaurants decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. Some places were blasting Christmas tunes out of outdoor speakers and, from afar, you can see Santa Claus taking pictures with children. You feel your heart fill with warmth in the atmosphere, excited to wander around and kill time with Hyunjin.

“Do you want to eat something?” Hyunjin questions. The boy halts in front of a food truck, head falling back to scan the menu. The food truck was a dessert truck—candied fruit, ice cream, cake pops, and more. You can see that they also sold drinks.

You nod, “What are you getting?”

“I’m thinking a cake pop… you?” The line shifts forward and you both take a step forward to follow.

You hum and try to decide on your own treat, “Can you get me candied strawberries, please?”

It takes a little bit to reach the front of the line and finally receive your food. When the man on the truck hands Hyunjin the food, you go to grab it but Hyunjin refuses to let you take it, pulling the treats back to his own body. “Huh?” you frown, “Do you want me to pay you back or something?” Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of the tanghulu. It was almost unrealistically red, like strawberries you’d find in cartoons.

“It’s cold,” Hyunjin shakes his head, “You can keep your hands in your pockets… I’ll hold it for you.” Then he holds the stick up to your lips, “Here.”

Your brows furrow and you groan, “Hyunjin, I’m capable of holding it myself, you know.” You’re quick to grab the stick from Hyunjin and give him a look, “But thanks anyway.”

Hyunjin grins, "Alright, suit yourself." He takes a bite of his cake pop as you enjoy the sweetness of the candied strawberries. The plaza is filled with a festive atmosphere, and you decide to stroll the rest of the area while munching on the treats.

By the time you were halfway finished with your food, you had been able to properly take in the scene of the plaza. It was actually much larger than it was at first sight, the area stretching down another block or two of buildings. It extended into a wide pedestrian mall, with shops busy on either side of the broad walkway.

Everyone there looked happy, like characters in the background of a movie. They minded their own business, stopping to watch the street performers entertain the passerbyers, or taking impromptu stops at the local shops lined up along the mall.

And though it did seem like such a first world problem for you to want to experience this without the stress that your parents constantly impose onto you to run a company, you like to think that your feelings still count. Even just a little.

“Look over there,” Hyunjin speaks up. He’s pointing further down the road and into a smaller plaza. There were people skating on a small, man-made, ice rink.

A gasp leaves your mouth as you when you take notice of the gigantic Christmas tree sitting off to the side of the rink. It had been strung from top to bottom in lights that occasionally changed colours. Ornaments decorated the tree with large ornaments, accented with ribbons and garland.

It was beautiful.

It was beautiful and you wanted to go get a better look at it.

Leaving Hyunjin’s side, you begin walking ahead of him, long forgetting the tanghulu in your hand. And just like earlier, Hyunjin calls for you to slow down, mainly because you were charging through the crowd with a pointy skewer, but also because he cannot catch up. You paid no mind to his attempts to slow you down. You were already dead set on catching a closer glimpse of that tree.

Hyunjin reaches you when you finally choose to stop. Your head falls back to look at the tree from its topper to its base, mouth falling open in awe, “Tell me why I’ve never seen this before.” Then you turn to look at Hyunjin, who’s looking at the tree himself, “How do you think they decorated it?”

Hyunjin lets out a laugh in the form of air shooting out his nose, “Cause all we know is work and school and business. I guess we never really have the time to enjoy these things, do we?” Then he thinks up a clever answer for your second question, but fails, “And honestly, I don’t know. Maybe one of those man lifts?”

“You’re right,” you laugh, “We need to Irish Goodbye more often if it means we get to see more things like this.” You glance around the area and find a bench nearby. Wordlessly, you grab onto Hyunjin’s sleeve and tug him along to sit.

You can feel how cool the metal bench is through your dress, but you lean back anyways, continuing to admire the Christmas tree. It was weird because you were feeling this sort of delight growing in your chest just at the sight of the decorated tree, though if you were asked what you were feeling you wouldn’t be able to put words to it. It was like the cherry on top of the sundae, perfectly fitting the ambience of everything that you and Hyunjin have seen tonight.

And for Hyunjin, sure the tree and the lights strung up all over the plaza were beautiful, but he was having a hard time keeping his attention on them, and instead kept taking glances your way. It was probably the fact that this happiness was different than the ones he’s seen before. It was like your inner child had jumped out, eyes filled with all the galaxies the universe held.

The corners of his lips had stretched at the slightest, eyes following in pursuit.

Hyunjin realizes now that if you were happy, he was happy. And he’d do anything to make it happen.

But he wouldn’t admit that to you just yet.

Or anyone.

It was enough for now that he had admitted it to himself.

Feeling eyes on you, you catch Hyunjin looking at you, expression soft. "What's up with that look?" you tease, your eyes narrowing. You lean over and nudge his arm with your shoulder.

Hyunjin feels heat rush to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of ears. He hopes that you don’t notice, “It’s nothing… just thinking about how we should actually do this more often.” Hyunjin pries his eyes away from you and forces himself to look at the tree which, frankly, wasn’t as pretty as you.

“We should…” you nod, “This is way better than the gala.”

Hyunjin agrees silently.

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence, just taking in the environment. It wasn’t everyday that you both got freedom like this and it was nice. And you can tell that Hyunjin felt the same.

Before you finally go to speak up after a while, your phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, your heart rate shoots up when you see it's your parents at the other end of the line. You quickly answer it to not cause suspicion, already sensing the concern in their voices.

“Hello?”

"Y/N, sweetheart, where are you?" your mom asks. You could hear your father’s voice saying something in the background, followed by another man’s voice.

"I’m still at the venue," you lie, "I just needed to get air. Why?"

“We found the owner of—” You roll your eyes. Of course.

“I’ll be right there, mom,” you say flatly, “Bye.” And you hang up.

“So?” Hyunjin questions. You notice that he had shifted in his seat to look at you, “What did she say?” He didn’t want to get you in trouble.

“She was talking about the owner of some company,” you shrug, “But that means we have to go.”

You stand up and take one last look at the tree before you have to drag yourself back into your own reality. It was good while it lasted.

Hyunjin frowns at your expression and gently takes your hand in his, “I’ll take you back here soon.”

You smile, eyes lighting up at the thought of coming back here again (and in much more comfortable clothes, too). “Promise?”

Hyunjin’s glad to see the joy instantly return to your previously deflating figure and nods.

“Promise.”

an: Thank you soso much for reading! Pls stay tuned for the upcoming members!

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #my skz writings #my writings

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slickchickchocolatier · 1 year

Text

Robin Hood - One Shot

One shot i started while i was on the family trip. Kind of thought of it during breakfast and liked the idea, so I drafted it and finally got around to finishing it. ;)

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Smut...lots of descriptive smut. Hostage intake, thief/robberies, held at knife point, cursing's, philandering, maltreatment, hints of domestic abuse.....i think that's it.

Smirking as he processes the article, Heeseung tosses the newspaper aside and sets his sights on the magazine that he picked up earlier. Eyes gliding over the cover, the working of his mind maps out the details and operation of his next target.

“Forbes 2023 Most Successful Business of the year, NIA Hotel”

…………………….

Dawning his attire, he laces his black combat boots and manages the fit of his all-black ensemble. Glancing off to the side, the handsome young man places on his black cap, the ‘tip of the spear’ that finishes his look, along with a black mask that covered his nose and mouth, leaving on his eyes to remain partially exposed. Time to go to work.

NIA hotel had the largest revenue in the world, and how convenient that the main hotel building in this city, would contain high valued items on the top floor. It was the largest hotel building in the world with over fifty stories of rooms that carried only the prestigious guests or people with serious money. The owner of the hotel personally had lived in the fiftieth level, along with valuable assets hidden in a safe.

For weeks, Heeseung had calculated his moment to strike as he had spent his months portraying as a staff member of the hotel, sneaking in and stealing their attire and badges, gaining access to the very top floor as he scouted the details of his plan. Getting passed the guards was easy, finding the hidden safe was even easier.

Exiting his rather lavish suite, being the world’s top thief had it’s perks. Even when he disbursed his little ‘gifts’ to the desolate communities, the valued amount of his steal was more than enough for him to retire at such a young age, yet he found life to be more interesting while living in sin.

Living on the top floor himself, Heeseung couldn’t possibly blow his cover by taking the main entrance and exiting through the heavily guarded lobby. So, he opts to exit out of the window, all the way down from twenty stories up. With zip lining wire, wheeled in a small spindle-gun, he takes aim and shoots out at a street light. Once the puncturing arrow had pierced the post, releasing the quick dry cement foam that set the tip in place, he hooked a shoulder strap to the cable, securing his swift travel down and across from his penthouse. Reaching the post, he propels a soft stop by swinging his feet up just before meeting with the post. With the sharp and jagged cleats on the bottom of his footwear, and the handheld spikes at the hilt of his belt, he climbs down the post until he meets the ground safely, and just in time as Jake pulls up in a black van, carrying the additional passengers that all took part of tonights event.

“Pick up service!” Sunghoon chuckles out as he opens the door. Smirking, as evident by his slightly squinted eyes, Heeseung walks up and enters the van, with his deep chuckle heard faintly behind his mask, he takes Sunghoon's hand as the latter pulls Heeseung up and inside the vehicle before sliding the door shut.

“Hey bro, looking good.” Jay remarks as he types away on his laptop. All seven crew members had their part in ensuring that each night, one such as this, went smoothly as they reduced the chances of capture. Through the process of elimination, the group became operationally steady as each member took on their respective roles, making each gig, a success.

Jay was the expert subject matter on computer technology and came from a family of money, so naturally he was able to equip himself with the highest technology products in the industry that included 3D printing, code crypting, hacking, and information intelligence. Sunoo was in charge of the costumes and outfits, creating and organizing the lavish attire for each time they scouted their targets. Jungwon was their communications guru, able to manipulate, splice, and alter wires within any radio system. Niki covered everything in regards to security, and spent the weeks leading to tonight portraying as a member of the hotel’s security staff, gaining access to all the hot spots of the multiple camera angles and motion of direction. Along with Heeseung, he would be the only other member to remain inside the building as he staged himself inside the security post, manipulating the camera systems and quietly detaining the staff members to avoid interruptions.

Jake spent his earlier days racing cars as a hobby, knowing how to move a car effortlessly and memorizing the most discreet pathways of the city, he mapped out their routes and plotted the additional rendezvous points. Sunghoon was the only one among the group that had military experience, having served three years right after high school. The man was notorious in taking apart every piece of equipment and device used in military weaponry and combat stealth, leading him to borrow the ideas from the strategic design and replicating them with the aid of his fellow military connections. Heeseung was the one who would bring home the goods. Being nearly as tall and flexible as Niki, but having the stealth and charm to play his way through contacts, not to mention being gifted with the rare ability of determining pitch of sound, Heeseung could decode any safe just merely by the sound of their clicks. Together, all seven men had spent years effortlessly gaining millions in net worth, all in a single night.

As Jake steered the van through his mapped route, Jay instructs Heeseung as he issues him the pin code to the safe.

“I hacked into the manufactures system, the owner of the hotel uses a company called iSafe.”

Heeseung smirks as he configures his watch. “iSafe? Is that some sort of ripoff from the apple product?”

“Not a rip off, it IS Apple. Its not widely promoted by the company since they are exclusive and remain affordable through word of mouth only. The techs that run the Apple products designed the key pad. I hacked into their systems and found his code, it’s the numbers of his girlfriend’s initials.”

“Girlfriend huh? Wonder if the wife knows about that.”

“Worse, the wife not only knows about it, she has to accept it since there’s no prenup and her family is against divorce. If she decides to leave him, she’ll get nothing. Plus it doesn’t help that it was an arranged marriage set up by her own father.”

“Ouch.” Heeseung remarks. Merely issuing as he clicks in the coordinates on his watch while Niki texts it by phone.

“Yeah, I dipped into this dude’s background. He’s honestly a scumbag, it looks like their whole marriage has been a complete shit show. Man also has a type and it’s definitely..….well….here.”

Displaying a stilled image, Jay reflects the face of an attractive yet heavily altered woman. It was clearly evident that she had plastic surgery, yet that didn’t necessarily turn Heeseung off….not until....

“I’d still tap it.” Heeseung chuckles out.

“Well watch this video first....then tell me how you really feel.” Hitting play, Jay plays out a recording of the pair during their sexual encounter, the woman’s face was filled with so much botox, she displayed absolutely no inflection in her expression, yet her mouth, remained just barely parted, admitted the most pitiful sounding moans the entire crew has ever heard. Laughing at her expense, each member issued a look of confusion as they all compared the sound to farm animals.

“What the fuck? Is that a cow?” Sunghoon inquires as he listens in on the video.

Smirking, Heeseung asks Jay how in the world he acquired the recording.

“He saves all the footage from his hidden cameras in his laptop, I saw that shit and had to see it myself.” Jay laughs out.

Getting a good laugh at the woman’s pathetic expression…or lack thereof, Jake chimes in as he issues out the estimated time of arrival.

“Heeseung, you got 10 minutes.”

Clicking in the last of the coordinates, Heeseung nodded as he shifts his gaze up, and gets into position near the door. Sunghoon grabs onto the handle as he pats on Heeseungs back.

“Be safe. You know where the alternative meet up point is should anything goes wrong?”

Nodding, Heeseung reassures the information as Sunghoon confirms.

“2 minutes.” Jake issues.

Counting down, Heeseung crouches as he braces for impact. With Sunghoon staging by the door, Jake counts off the remaining five seconds as he glides and maneuvers the vehicle towards the curbed edge of the unidentifiable spot.

“5…..4…..3…..2….1! Now!” Jake states as the wheels begin to slightly screech and he purposely planes the vehicle to its side in a rotated motion. Sunghoon pulls the door wide as Heeseung leaps out and softly lands on solid ground as the van never stops moving. Continuously making its way out of the scene and heading to the vantage point, the crew quickly drives away, leaving to swap out the vehicle and stage it nearby the hotel, within communication range.

Leaving no sound to trace or alert anyone of his landing, Heeseung swiftly rolled into the shadows and remained hidden as he maneuvered his way towards the back of the building. Narrowed in an alleyway, Heeseung used the first set of coordinates and located the massive HVAC unit by finding the large vent on the side of the building. Using one of the many toys Sunghoon had given him, he used a multi-tool to unscrew the vent, while Niki controlled the angle of the security camera by gliding the rollover mouse and deterring its line of sight away from Heeseung.

“Okay you’re out of sight. Do your thing Heeseung.” Niki calmly sounds off with a deep voice, all the while the real security staff remained knocked out from the chloroform gas bomb he set off just moments before entering in with a gas mask. Some more goodies that Sunghoon had acquired through his military connections.

Nodding to himself upon hearing Niki’s voice through the bud earpiece, Heeseung finishes up with detaching the vent. Gliding into the duct. It was large enough for him to crawl and move around as he made his way inside the HVAC room, located in the basement.

“I’m in.” Heeseung communicates as he detaches the second vent and enters the room.

Locating the main vent that led to the main air duct, providing majority of the building's airflow, Heeseung detached it from the wall as he did with the other two, and began crawling through the aluminum crevice as he reads the second set of coordinates. Gliding through, he reaches his second destination as he kicks out the vent from the inside.

“Niki am I good?” Heeseung radio’s in.

Locking the elevators internally by setting the magnetic locking feature, Niki leaves all but one elevator stagnant. Looking into the cameras, he ensures the elevator was not in use. Once confirmed, Niki clears Heeseung, to which the latter listens in as he waits for his que.

“Coming up in 3…..2……1…” Niki calmly counts down as Heeseung hears in for the rising of the elevator, which Niki controlled as he operated the feature from the security room. Heeseung waits for the perfect timing as the elevator box rises up. Taking out a small handle, staging it near the roof of the aluminum duct, he presses the button and the handle extends into a pull up bar, securing itself between the two walls with its suction tipped ends. Sliding underneath the bar, feet first, he hangs himself out from the opening as he grips firmly on the extended piece. Looking down, he waits until the roof of the elevator was within his sight, nearly ten feet away before he releases his grip and softly lands on top, riding the box all the up to the top floor.

Looking at the numbers assigned to each vent, reflecting the floor level, Heeseung iterated the numbers to Niki as he continued to control the elevator through the systems automatic feature.

“Coming up on the fiftieth floor.” Niki remarks. As the elevator box reached the top, Niki pauses the motorized mechanism by halting the elevator through its emergency stop feature, ultimately allowing Heeseung to detach the vent and crawl through the top floor within the main duct line.

“Thanks for the lift.” Heeseung chuckles out through the communication piece, a small speaker pin that he attached to his collar.

Crawling through, going off the third coordinates, Heeseung pauses as he reaches the location of a side vent.

“Just reached third coordinates……am I good?”

Carefully scanning through the hidden cameras of the large presidential suite, the entire fiftieth floor, Niki ensures that all was clear on his end.

“All is clear here. Jay?”

Chiming in, Jay radios in an affirmative as he manipulates a military drone that Sunghoon acquired, having firm access of the hotel owner and his girlfriend enjoying their night out as they grab dinner and prepare to take a flight out, while the wife had remained on vacation.

“You’re good Heeseung.”

Kicking out the vent, Heeseung slides out and scans the immediate area. Inside the dining area, the lights had all remained off as the occupants were out and away.

“Too easy….” Heeseung smirks as he quietly makes his way towards the master bedroom. The entire floor level was larger than most foundational houses, it had a cathedral type ceiling and an expanded open floor plan. Not to mention the furnishings and luxury antique paintings that all hung delicately on the French styled panels that decorated the walls.

“Which painting was it again Niki?” Heeseung radios in.

“It’s going to be the one of Mona Lisa.”

“THE Mona Lisa painting?” Heeseung issues as he was stunned by Niki’s response.

“Not the actual, but it is a genuine replica, and its much larger. It still costed him a pretty penny, I think Jay said he paid over 10 million for it. He hired a bunch of artists to trace and reflect every exact curve and brush stroke as the original.”

“The man has money…..good thing I’m about to take it, his girlfriend could use a break from all those surgeries…any more silicone and she might pop.” Heeseung jokes as he reaches the replica portrait.

“Hey lady, you here alone?” Heeseung quietly speaks as he admires the large portrait.

Tracing the edges of the frame, he feels for the specific feature behind the painting’s main creation. Upon feeling the nub, he presses in and hears in on the clicking sound of the frame detaching from the locking mechanism, gently swinging open as Heeseung reveals the hidden key pad that Jay had fore-mentioned, completely flushed with the wall.

Entering the code, the wall slides open within a framed compartment, revealing the top notch safe that contained an elaborate dial. Just as he was about to get to work, Niki chimes in on the radio.

“Heeseung, get out of sight, someones coming.”

“Shit….” Whispering as he curses himself, Heeseung quickly migrates over into the master closet, which alone, was larger than his own penthouse. Taking refuge within one of the mirrored hanging cabinets, he stands in quietly. Rushing out of the open area, the frame quietly swings open once more as he wasn't able to fully secure it in time.

“Who the fuck came up?” Jay radios in.

“Not sure, it looks like the owner had additional security members a few floor levels down…must be a new security feature because that wasn’t set before. But this guy had to have used the ladder well and gone directly up while I was tracking Heeseung’s movements and operating the stand-alone elevator.” Niki explains, calmly tracking the security guard as he conducts his hourly night rove, as prescribe by the head of security and checks the entire main floor level.

“Heeseung you good?” Jay inquires.

“Yeah I’m good…just hiding out.”

“Stay put, I’ll let you know when it’s clear.” Niki reassures as he uses the security cameras that covered the entire floor level, all but the master suite and bathrooms.

Watching as the security guard did his roves, Niki cursed himself the moment he watches the guard taking notice of the painting swung open.

“He saw the painting. Heeseung stay hidden.” Niki radios in.

“Fuck, we gotta go.” Jay issues. “Heeseung stay put, this place is about to be swarmed with cops, we’ll let you know when all is clear right before they come through. Niki, you need to get out of there man.”

“Already moving. Where are you guys staged?”

“A few blocks away, we’ll swoop by and pick you up at Main street, three buildings down from the hotel. Heeseung where are you right now?”

“I’m inside one of the clothing cabinets inside the main closet.”

Instructing Heeseung, Jay continues to elaborate the alternative plan.

“Alright, stay there. Once we get Niki, you’ll have about 10 minutes before the cops show up and reach the top floor, also the owner has been informed, so we’ll have to swoop by and get you fast before he comes back. Can you get down in five?

“Yeah.”

“Okay, meet us at the same spot. We gonna have to kill all comms in order for the radio waves and frequency to be left untraceable. Don’t discard the pieces, just crush it and bring all the components back with you.”

“Got it.”

Ending the communication, Heeseung takes both, the ear piece and the speaker pin, drops it on the floor and stomps it with his boots, before stuffing the evidence in his cargo pocket. Exiting out of the master closet, ensuring that the security guard that blew their cover had already left, Heeseung began making his way out and back to the vent, where he would start migrating to the ladder well and quickly make his way out before the entire building goes on lock down. With just four minutes left, he rushes out and makes his way through the narrow corridor and takes a sharp turn around the corner, where he bumped into you.

Gasping as you felt the rush of hard muscle bashing into you, all the while a pair of strong hands simultaneously reaches up and pins your arms to your sides, Heeseung was just as shocked as you were the moment he felt himself bumping into your body. With the lights remaining off, he quickly reacts without investigating on who exactly he ran into. Turning you around, he pulls you back into his chest as he raises a sharp blade up to your neck and pulls you away and back into the master suite.

“Not one fucking sound. Nod at me.” With his other hand covering your mouth, his deep tone was fierce and forceful, yet calm…too calm, considering he was trapped on the top floor. But, the man was a professional, so it was only natural for him be composed. Nodding as he bids you to do, he continued to drag you back over toward the master bedroom and locks the door.

Your phone began ringing the moment you both entered the master suite, reflecting your husband’s number, which came in as an unfamiliar contact since you never bothered saving it. Initially, you were fond and very much in love with your husband, finding him to be both handsome and kind. But the moment the ceremony of the wedding had ended, he revealed his act and exposed his displeasing nature as a man with absolutely no value or respect for anyone other than himself. He was narcissistic, materialistic, and a philanderer. You grew to despise everything about him, so much, that you had refused to save any part of him in your life, to include his own cell number.

“Whose that?” Heeseung asks, still unable to see your face as all the lights remained off.

“M…my husband….”

“Husband?”

“Yes…..he’s the owner of this hotel….” You softly spoke out.

“You’re….his wife?.....I thought you were on vacation?”

Somewhat shocked at knowing about your whereabouts, you calmly elaborated as you admitted to secretly arriving back home sooner than expected.

“I…I was…..but I had to come back to….to pick up my divorce papers….” You calmly stated, saddened as the emotions of losing connections with your family was produced from this divorce. It was the only reason why you were hesitant, but you couldn’t take it anymore. As much as you wanted to remain connected with them, you only had one life to live, and you couldn’t possibly see yourself living in a lonely state with a husband that you hated, much less hating you back.

Meanwhile, Heeseung cursed himself as he continued to pin the blade to your skin.

“Answer it. Do anything stupid and I’ll slit your throat, so be a smart girl.” Heeseung instructs. You nod as you answered the call.

“Hello?.....”

“Why did you turn the security members away?”

“I…..just got in....i'm too tired and want to get some sleep……so I told them to come back tomorrow.”

“You dumb bitch, someone just broke in. Are you seriously not going to let the security members investigate the house? just wait till i get there, i'll slap you smart.”

Pausing, you quietly and calmly continued to reassure your husband that all was well…..which turned out favorably for Heeseung.

“There’s….no one here. I already checked and nobody took anything……”

“The team said someone tried to break into the safe.”

“yes but…..they had left before they could open it……i'm going to be here....i'll stay awake for a while and keep an eye on it…….but I’m too tired to deal with your security team……they can come back tomorrow.”

“so you’re sleeping there tonight? That’s a change.”

“Well……I figured since your secretary said you were going to be taking a flight to the Caribbean tonight, the house was going to be empty….for once.”

“Huh..sneaky. Well, since you’re there, I guess I don’t have to head back. We’re turning around and going back to the airport but if you see anyone, call security and text me.”

Gulping out of irritation, you calmly reassured him. “Yeah…..i got it.”

“Good little watch doggie. Be good and watch the house while we’re out oh, and Denise says hi.”

In the background, your husbands girlfriend could be heard as she teases a long “Hiiiiiiiii y/n.” as he places the phone on speaker. Heeseung furrowed his brows in annoyance at the total scummy attitude that the man displayed towards you. Despite whatever problems you both had in the marriage, there wasn’t any real reason he could see that would justify the man’s treatment towards you.

“Please polish all my jewelry while we’re gone, I would appreciate it!” Denise states. Both her and your husband continue to taunt you as it became evident that Denise had been living in your house, with your husband, as you had taken up on living in one of the other rooms in the hotel to create some diversion from the ugly pair. If it wasn’t one of the rooms within the forty-nine remaining floors, it was elsewhere in the city or lodging on whatever part of the world you could get away to. So long as you didn’t have to remain beside them.

“by the way, I heard you picked up divorce papers. You really going through with it?” your husband mocks out curiously.

“Yes…”

“Does daddy disapprove? Did he disown you yet? Does he even know?”

You stayed silent as you tried to alter the conversation to its end.

“Just sign it once you get back and I’ll have my things moved out in the meantime.”

“Good riddance, Denise needs more closet space, she says she’s tired of sharing everything with you. Anyhow, you sure nobody got into my safe?”

“yeah…..”

“Take a photo and send it to me. We’re pulling up at the airport right now, so send it within the next ten minutes before we take off, I don’t intend to keep my phone on while we’re up in the air.”

“Okay…..”

Hanging up and ending the call, your husband seemed to be reassured that all was well at the house, more so now that you were home.

“give me your phone.” Heeseung calmly instructs. Doing so, he takes it and drags you towards the safe. Handing it back to you, he tells you to take the photo and send it immediately. You did as he instructed, before handing it back to him as he extends his hand to look over the text.

“Why the fuck did you marry him? Dude is an asshole.”

“……I didn’t really have a choice…..”

Remaining calm and stoic, reflecting your deepest state of unhappiness, you continued to converse with the young man in the dark, not at all knowing what you both looked like. Suddenly, helicopters from afar could be heard making their way over towards the hotel.

“Shit, come here.” Taking you by the arm, he drags you back into the master bedroom, where all the lights remained off and the curtains closed. Taking you into the corner, he pins you back to his chest with his blade remaining close to your neck, all the while he peaked in through a tiny gap between the curtains and looked over the entire area. Taking your phone, he dials in and contacts Jay.

Answering, Jay figured that it was Heeseung as the number came in unrecognizable, yet he recalled seeing it when he hacked and viewed your, and your husband’s profiles. Piecing everything together, Jay figured Heeseung must have made contact with you upon seeing your number.

“Bro, where are you?”

“I’m still on the top floor…..wife came back early.”

“Yeah I figured…I sort of recognized the number. Are you good?”

“Yeah I am, but cops are everywhere and so are the helo’s….”

“Yeah we see them. You’re going to have to stay put. Did she call security?”

“Nah, and it ooks like they wont be coming up. Husband also is….appeased….knowing that his money is safe.”

“Yeah, I was tracing him through the drone, looks like he ended up going to the airport after all. But you’ll have a solid two hours before you can come out. They’re going to do a thorough rendezvous search around the perimeter of the building, and then slowly expand out throughout the city. We’re heading out but we’ll come back to get you, in the meantime, stay there and don’t come out until we call. You gonna have her phone on you?”

“yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Okay, hang tight, we got some time so chill out for a bit.”

“Yeah sure….” Heeseung mocked out as he slightly rolled his eyes while Jay chuckled.

“You’ll be fine man, trust me. Just don’t leave until I call.”

At that, both ended the phone conversation while Heeseung remained vigilant in scouting the area outside as he held you hostage. With the lights peering into the bedroom windows, he could vaguely make out your hair and the tip of your nose from you side profile as your locks framed your face delicately. He was too focused on what was going on outside, he didn’t take any notice of your dress, which was styled as a wrap, similar to that of a robe with a belted sash that held it in place. It began to come loose and slip off. The tie from the satin material was far too delicate for it to remain in place with how you were being pulled, moved, and pushed around as Heeseung shifted positions, dragging you along as he continued to study the movements and routes of each helicopter, plus the cop cars that all remained staged around the entire hotel.

You wanted to say something but feared of speaking as the grip of his hand tightened over your mouth. Slowly as the seconds went by, and each time Heeseung shifted and moved from one window to another, your dress came undone, slipping off your shoulders and collecting at the bend of your elbows while the sleeves coiled up and the entire body of it draped over your derriere, exposing your body. With only a pair of panties on, you slightly whimpered as you felt yourself become completely exposed.

Hearing your voice, he takes a glance down, initially confused as to why he felt your back shiver, when he noticed your dress removed. With your hands pinned on your sides, he made out the fabric thorough the harsh lighting that peeked in from the windows, and noticed the slinkiness of the material, causing him to piece together on just how you ended up becoming nearly naked in front of him.

With the intent on letting you fix yourself, he was just a split second away from instructing you to dress yourself, when you shifted your head inward, facing in his direction as you felt it hard to breathe since his large hand was not only covering your mouth, but his fingers were blocking the airway of your nostrils as well. Taking in your movement, he caught sight of your face and was essentially stunned….so much that he hadn’t immediately realized that you were barely getting any oxygen, which had caused you to admit another whimper as you furrowed your brows together, squinting your eyes shut and shifting your face upwards, where Heeseung gained a better view of it in the lighting, all the while you lifted a hand and placed it on top of his. Finally realizing that you were struggling for air, his eyes widened as he noted his hand blocked our nostrils and mouth. Quickly removing it, you harshly gasped as you shifted your face back to center and your chest raised up high as you took in a deep breath once you felt air traveling back through to your lungs.

Watching as you regained your breath, Heeseung had quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, supporting your body as you felt lightheaded and went limp from the rush of air hitting you. Slightly bent at the hip, your body shakes as your hair drapes over while your head hangs low, leaving your entire back exposed and your rear pressed up against his groin. You were far too beautiful to be treated in such a manner as he witnessed earlier, how could anyone treat someone like you like trash? You were so lovely in the face, and built with such gorgeous feminine attributes, you were the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen.

“Why in the fuck is he hitting up that blow up doll when he’s got her….?”

Perplexed at how any man could be married to someone as other worldly as you, and yet choose someone who was highly altered with a synthetic face, Heeseung couldn’t believe how foolish your husband was.

“Is he fucking blind?......Does he not like real women?.....”

Continuing on with his pensive thought, you finally gained composure as you stood upright, brushing your hair back as you steadied yourself.

Grabbing on to you, his black leathered, fingerless gloves was all you could feel against your bare waist, with your hair draped over your shoulder and dangling against your breasts, you remained perfectly still as he held you tightly against his body. Your back felt as if it was melting against his chest, and while his grip was strong, his breathing was calm and soft.

His nose touches your cheek as you felt his lips tap against your helix when he spoke in a low growling tone.

“Look at me…”

Hesitant….you remained still as you felt a wave of fear hit you. But the moment he tugged on your waist harshly, he reiterates his demand. “I said……look at me….”

Doing as he bids, you shut your eyes gently as you slowly turned your face to look over to him. Slowly opening, you make eye contact and for the first time tonight, you saw his face. He had a slightly sharp nose with high cheekbones, along with wide eyes and cupid bowed lips; his facial features were somewhat defined and matured, yet reflected a certain softness and youth to their expression. Gazing into your eyes, he lost himself as he whispered out….

“Fuck……”

Resting his chin on top of your shoulder, his body relaxes and alleviates the pressure of the blade from your neck, allowing you to breathe a little easier. Yet it was too soon for you to take in any comfort from his demeanor since he began to scrape the smooth edge of the blade against your skin, moving it up and down along the center of your throat. Calmly, he speaks as the tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, with his chin remained resting on the nook of your shoulder.

“……look at me some more.”

You shifted your eyes and locked your vision with his black iris, despite being hidden under the bill of his black cap, you could tell that his eyes were so black, that it lacked any natural luster as they were voided of any shine and remained matte in its bold and dark color, resembling coal. Yet you were surprised, he was quite handsome, and his deep voice had paired his features nicely.

Collapsing the pocket-knife and shoving it inside his cargo pocket, he remained staring as he fully embraced you by the waist, and pulled you in.

“you can relax. I’m not going to hurt you….wasn’t ever going to.”

Breathing steadily, you gave a slight nod as you tried to create just a tad bit of distance between your pressed bodies, yet the moment you took a tiny half step forward, you felt his grasp pull you closer than ever. Whimpering out a soft moan, you shuttered as he rubbed his nose and took in a large, inhaled scent of your perfume.

Groaning upon feeling your body pressed up to his groin, even he couldn’t make sense out of his actions, he was just acting out of what felt right………and you felt more than right. You felt perfect.

Whimpering once more, you shifted slightly as you tried to cover your chest once you had felt one of his hands trailing up to your breasts. Turning your face away, he didn’t stop moving even upon seeing you shy away and trying to cover yourself, instead, he merely shushed you by pressing his lips against your ear.

“Shhhh…..its okay baby…….”

Hearing his soft voice melted you, and you felt your body sink into his while your chest heaved deeply as you started to lose control of your breathing.

“…..how long has it been…..since hubs touched you?” he asks, as he cupped your breast and admitted a slight squeeze while his nose dragged upward near the tip of your ear, resting right above the helix. With a small peck, his lips tap against your ear, causing you to become more unsteady as you felt the knot forming in your gut….something you hadn’t felt for far too long.

“I……mm……it was only once…..after our wedding ….” You mumbled out softly, your tone sounded angelic to him. It was similar to that of a wind chime, with gentle tones of high pitch.

Squeezing both of your breasts, his tongue traces the lining of your ear. The sensation was so good, you hadn’t entirely meant to moan and tilt your head off to the side, giving him more access, yet you couldn’t help it. Reaching behind, you planted your palms on his thighs and tried once more to push yourself way to create some distance, yet this time it was just out of teasing spite as you yearned for more of his tenacity. To be craved by a man was something you were missing out on in life….to be craved by Robin Hood himself, was a big bonus.

Sensing your mannerism and the playful vibe you admitted while softly feeling his legs as you pushed, he pulled….slowly….playing right back. “Ooooh…..trying to get away from me?” He smirks against your hair. You slightly shook your head as you arched your back and pressed the back of your head gently against his lips as your derriere dug deeper against his pelvis. That nearly did him in, gripping you harshly by cupping your breasts, he pulled you and smacked your back against his chest as he burrowed his face into your ear. Whispering in a deep and sensual tone, he says to you, “tell me what you want…..tell me and I’ll give it to you….I’ll give you…..e-v-e-r-y-thing…..”

Raising his hand, he sides eye you with desire written all over his face as he sticks out his tongue, and licks the tip of his middle finger. Traveling downward, he slips it into your panties, and uses the same finger to rub the small nub of your clitoris. Gasping for air, with the punch of pleasure banging your gut and chest, you whimpered aloud as you begged him with a whining tone, “ugh!....i….i want. It……..i want it…..”

“say it louder….” Sliding his finger up and down along your slit, he uses the moisture admitted from the crevice of your womanhood and slowly inserts it inside you. “I want it! I want it!.....” you nearly screamed out as you felt him lift your frame by the inserting grasp he had. With his finger inside, and his palm cupping the base of your soft spot, he raised you to your tip toes as he would slowly thrust it in and out. “ugh! P-please……”

“Please what?” he antagonizes out, yearning to hear more of your begging tones, getting more aroused each time you spoke out to him….yearning for him just as much he was yearning for you.

“Come on baby…..tell it to me like you really want it……tell it to me….like how you really want it…..”

Adding more ferocity to his thrust, his finger re-enters inside your hole as the squelching sound of the lubricant becomes louder and screams inside the bedroom. Feeling yourself gushing out, you finally caved in as you nearly collapsed, had it not been your grasp on his fitted cargo pants along with his wrap around your waist. “….p….please…….fuck me…..”

Turning you around so suddenly, he plasters his arms around your frame as he pulls you into an intense and feasting kiss. Never once breaking, you both nearly ran out of breath until he finally admitted a small gasp of air before proceeding. Bending at the knees, his hands reach down and around your back thighs as he swiftly lifts and cradles your legs around his waistline, carrying you over to the king size bed. Laying you down gently, he hovers above our frame as you both scooted towards the center, remaining in contact through the touch of your lips.

Once in position, he props himself on his knees as his military styled clothing continued to show off his lithe frame. Opening your legs wider, he softly rubs his fingertips against your thighs as he hooks them under your panties, and slides them off. Pulling your legs up and together, he slides the fabric off and tosses them to the side while keeping your ankles pinned together, resting atop his shoulder. Caressing and cuffing them together with one hand, he reaches down and unzips his pants slowly while biting down on his bottom lip, staring directly into our eyes. With the lights from the city peering into through the windows and curtains, a dimmed hue of a glow set the atmosphere right as he admired how beautiful you looked under him.

Slowly taking out his shaft, it pokes against the back of your legs as your ankles continued to rest over his shoulder, covering his length from your vision. You could tell that he was long and thick, based off how it felt against your skin as he rubbed it up and down, and tapped it against your thighs. With the bulging tip, he slides it up and down in between the folds of your slit, coating it with that glistening shine that coated his finger. Entering, the tight pressure of your cavity caused his breath to growl as he tilts his head far back, exposing his protruding Adams Apple.

“Fuck you’re tight….”

Whimpering, you shift your face away as you winced in pain. Reaching up, your hands grab hold of his shirt as you dug your fingers into the material and his abdominal muscles. “Ugh!......i…it hurts!”

Remained facing with the ceiling, as he gasped out a breath of his own, he nodded faintly as he spoke “I know…..but I’m going to take care of that for you in a second……I’m going to take care….of you….” slowly bucking his hips in, he inserts, inch by inch until he finally was all inside you.

Enjoying the warmth of softness of your moist tissue, he flickers his cock as it rests inside, tapping against your walls while the pre-cum seeped out and puddled inside you. Looking back down at you, he finally caught his breath after taking a moment to appreciate the feeling of your body. Like the finest silk, you felt far too good for him to not begin thrusting.

With slowly pumps, he started off with a gentle pace as he asked you, “are you ready?”

Nodding, you felt the stinging pain pulsating as he stretched you out, going in and out…in…and out……

Once your response was received, his momentum became unforgiving as he picked up the pace and thrusted deeper, faster, and fiercely. Groaning out deep tones, Heeseung was overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he felt. It was so good, he had to go harder….he had to make you scream.

Looping his arm around your legs, with your ankles remaining on his shoulder bone, he slightly lifts your derriere off the bed as he continued to thrust and pump his dick into you. Supporting your frame by the lock on your legs, you found yourself lost in the sea of euphoria as you were getting fucked relentlessly by the infamous thief. Not knowing his real identity, you merely moaned out in long exasperating whines and whimpers as you felt more pleasure coming in, and the stinging tinge of pain was disappearing fast. Numbed and yet still able to feel every single inch of his cock thrusting in and out, you gasped out as you whined “p-please….please….ugh…don’t stop…….don’t stop fucking me.”

Turning you over, he places a trail of kisses on the arch of your back as he grabs onto your rear, squeezing your cheeks together as he grabs your waist from behind. Propping yourself on hands and knees, you moaned out upon feeling his wet length trailing patterns on your skin, tapping against your cheeks as he prepares to enter. Steadying your body with a tight grasp, he squeezes your waistline as he re-enters, sliding all the way in. It was becoming easier to enter inside as he was stretching your walls open from thrusting in his large muscle repeatedly.

He never once thought he would ever take a married woman to bed, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d do everything.

Feeling the base of his groin as it presses against your rear cheeks, you gasped out as he starts back up on thrusting, slamming against your rear with sharp and pungent thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against the skin of his base, along with his trousers as he remained fully dressed, he started off slowly and deep before going in at a rapid rate.

“Ugh! Ugh….my God…I’m……you’re breaking me….”

“Oh fuck yeah I am.”

Finding himself tenacious in ruining you, Heeseung took great delight in toying with your words as he slaps himself against you each time he thrusted in, pulling you by your waist simultaneously as he re-coats his dick with that precious liquid that emerged from you. The consistency started to thicken and turned white from the constant friction and rubbing from the thrusting. Watching it formulate before his very eyes, he watches as a thick, white ring of cream outlines his girth, growing and expanding along the inches the more he kept fucking into you.

“Ugh! ….fuck! I’m going to cum!” you whimpered out. He responded by increasing the pace yet again, spanking his groin against your round bottom as he powers in all the energy and masculinity into your womanhood, claiming you as he tells you to cum.

“Cum baby……cum with me…”

Thrusting in with high tenacity, you both fell into the hands of your release as you reached your orgasms. Nearly screaming, you felt the tears of pleasure stream down your face as you felt his groin gyrate and vibrate against your rear as he filled you up, pulling you in towards him by his grip on your waist. Turning you over, he lays you down and re-inserts his length once more. Leaning in between your legs and plastering his chest against yours, he locks his lips with your own as he begins to thrust once more, initiating round two.

Grabbing onto your neck, he breaks away just slightly as his nose and lips remained touching yours. His thrusts caused your body to shift upwards as he watched you bolt up and down from his impact, loving the way your placid expression from earlier, was broken as he fucked you.

“let me give you a pearl necklace to wear around that beautiful neck or yours baby….”

Bumping up and down as he continued to thrust, you admitted a nod as you furrowed your brows in pain from the overwhelming pleasure hitting you once more. “ugh! D….d…too deep! You’re too deep!”

“Yeah?......lets go deeper baby……”

Gasping for air, he succeeded, though you couldn’t imagine how he accomplished the task as he was already going in all the way in. By lifting one of your legs and leaning it against your chest, he was able to reach depths that you had no idea existed until he pointed it out…literally.

“Oh my God! Ugh!...p…please….”

“I know baby….i fucking know……come on, keep taking it. You’re doing so well……you’re doing soooooooo good……come on baby, keep fucking it……fuck it….fuck it baby.”

“ugh!” you gasped out repeatedly, to which he responded by issuing teasing words as he breathed into your mouth. “Right there baby? Is that the spot?”

“Uuuuuugh!”

“Yeah? Want me to keep hitting it? Just like that?....come on baby, let me beat it up for you.”

Tapping against a spot deep inside your gut, you reached up and gripped his chest as he breathed deeply into your wide-open mouth. He refrained from kissing you, taking the moment to enjoying swallowing in each of your moans as he fucked you harder, faster, and stronger.

“oh fuck baby, come here.”

Feeling himself reaching ecstasy he quickly pulls out just in time as he kneels himself up and reaches for the back of your head. Pulling you in gently, he strokes his throbbing member as he ejaculates along your neckline, coating you with the pearl necklace that he enjoyed seeing you wearing……because it was his.

Growling out the last of his moans, he leaned back in and kissed you repeatedly as he caressed your face. Noting the lack of energy and your eyes fluttering shut, you became weak after succumbing to his performance. With one last kiss on your forehead, he gently pulled the covers over your body and fetches a few of your husband’s belongings from the master closet.

Snagging your phone, he quickly calls in once more.

“Yo.” Jay answers.

“Be around the block in ten, right next to that Lebanese food cart, I’ll meet you there. Don’t worry about the cops, I scouted a loop hole route. Trust me. See you soon.” Hanging up, he left no chance for Jay to respond as he erases the call history, not at all concerned as the number he dialed in was that of a disposable phone. Leaving the crew untraceable.

Placing your phone down at your nightstand, he takes one more glance over and admires your sleeping state before leaving you to rest. Decoding the safe, Heeseung worked quickly as he clears his throat, still catching his breath from the heightened pleasure he felt from fucking your brains out.

Swinging the safe door wide open, there, the entire life’s value of your husband’s assets was free for the taking. Gold bars, velvet bags of diamonds, shareholder certificates, and large stacks of cash, a wide variety of investments that Heeseung stuffed into your husband’s gym bag. Shedding off his combat styled attire, he stuffs it all inside the bag while adorning the gym clothes he snagged from the master closet. With his cap remaining, Heeseung left his face partially hidden as he dressed himself in sneakers, basketball shorts, a fitted tee shirt with a sports jacket. Sliding back inside the vent, realizing that the guard never noticed it being detached from the wall, Heeseung slid and crawled through, configuring his way through while dragging the bag along through the spacious air duct.

Reaching another vent, he kicks it open and emerges out, into an empty guest suite located two floors below the top level. Figuring that the guard had already discovered the detained guards and reset all the controls in the security room, Heeseung peeked out through the small peep hole on the door, and there it was, off to the corner of his vision, he could see the security camera that covered the hall of the forty-eighth level. Containing the view of the door, Heeseung exits the room, casually, portraying himself to be a guest at the hotel as he remained inconspicuous. Tucking his hands inside the jacket pockets, he walks out and heads over to the elevators, walking past a few other guests and even a couple of roaming security guards. Watching as Heeseung stood calmly, waiting for the next elevator, one of the security guards noted Heeseung’s attire and tapped his shoulder.

“Excuse me sir. The hotel’s gym is currently closed for the night.”

“Damn….well that sucks.” Heeseung hisses out.

“I know, we apologize for the inconvenience. However, there is an exclusive gym down the road that is open to all guests of the hotel. Its nearby, just a few buildings down, past Main street. Don’t mind the police, there is an elaborate search of the hotel since there was an intruder alert.”

Feigning a slight gasp with a surprised look, Heeseung calmly converses as he built a false rapport with the guard. “No shit…..huh….is it safe to leave the hotel?”

“Oh yes, nothing to worry about Sir. Everything is under control. We’ll have the man arrested in no time, we had cleared the top three floors and figured he made his way through the ladder well. The police are in a high state of alert, so please don’t be alarmed if they ask to check your bags as you exit the hotel.”

“Of course, man, thanks so much uh…” extending his hand, Heeseung hinted for the man’s name.

“Oh, Robert.” Shaking hands with the guard, Heeseung nods as he continues. “Robert. Nice to meet you man, Ethan.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Thanks for the tip, I’ll see you around man.” Heeseung enter’s the elevator with two other guests, listening into on the guard, he overhears as Robert radios in and commits to standard protocol.

“Three guests making their way to the first floor, two males and one female. Both cleared.”

As the elevator doors shut and started to move, Heeseung side glances at the couple, taking note of their distracted presence as they both displayed their loving affection towards one another. Pressing on the third floor button, Heeseung remained cool as the elevator reached the level. Walking out, he notes the security camera covering the entire hallway, leaving no door and room out of its line of sight……except for the vent that was on the dead-end wall, underneath the camera, out of the vantage point.

“Too easy.”

Casually walking up, Heeseung takes out a key card, one that he had taken over a week ago when he scouted the entire top floor portraying as one of the lobby staff. Coding it with the hotel’s computer system, he copied the hotel manager’s master copy. Opening the door closest to the opposite corner of the camera, the angle only captured the top corner of the door, gaining enough sight to witness it opening and closing. Entering the master key into the slot, the guards in the security room watched and noted the door opening with Heeseung entering the room. Mistaken as a guest of the third floor, the guards shifted their focus back to one of the middle floor levels once the door to the room had shut.

The moment he entered the room, he swiftly ducked and leaped out, right from under the camera’s lens. With the door only partially covered, there was no sight of what went on underneath the center of the panel, leaving Heeseung free to feign an entry. Taking out the vent, he re-enters inside the duct, and crawls through, recalling the coordinates from earlier and developing his own alternative set, he reached the very start of his journey for the night, and found himself back in the HVAC room at the hotel’s basement. With only minutes, possibly seconds left before someone would notice the vent’s manipulated and displaying evidence of security breach. Heeseung quickly reaches up and undid the vent that led outside, held in place with an instant drywall gum that he applied on the corners of the vent, setting it back in place as a precautionary measure in case the guards conducted their roves along the perimeter of the hotel’s exterior. With no way to screw it back on from the inside, Heeseung got crafty and experimented with multiple home products to develop this concoction.

Pressing it outward, he grips on the grooves of the vent with his fingers so as to not let it fall and hit the ground, causing noise to alert the police stationed out on the front and back, occasionally roaming around. With the helicopters hovering over the neighboring buildings about five miles out, he would have just seven minutes before they would migrate back over the hotel. Quickly exiting out of the duct, he props the vent back over the opening, before climbing in between the neatly trimmed trees that outlined the hotel, providing a luxurious lining of landscaping beauty. Remaining in the shadows close to the trees, he travels on the opposite end of the foliage, making his way the in the direction of Main Street, passing by the back side of the fine establishments that neighbored the hotel. One he reached the fourth building down, he walked through the narrow alley way and emerged from the side, with the sight of police officers and the massive hotel building all at a solid distance. Right on time, a white SUV pulls up.

Rolling down the window, Jake peeks his head out as he looks behind and takes notice of the hotel and the line of police cars that covered the entire entrance.

“Need a lift?” Jake chuckles out.

Smirking, Heeseung walks over to the passenger side and gets in. Driving off, they head out to meet up with the rest of the crew, splitting the earnings as per usual.

Media outlets along with social media platforms blasted the news of the robbery. For days, nothing but talk of the hotel owner’s entire life investments, was all stolen. Desperate to seek information, the police released a massive million-dollar reward for any leads.

………………….

“This is Belift news. It would so appear that there is still no signs of the infamous thief, who is socially identified as Robin Hood. Once again, the thief has emerged victorious in stealing over 400 billion dollars’ worth of assets that included shareholder stock certs to major corporations and companies around the world. What is even more strange, is that Robin Hood, who was always known for his generosity in leaving a fraction of his prize to the most impoverished areas of the city, had skipped out and took everything for himself, as no one has come out with claims of receiving a gift at the doorstep. Of course, it has been three days since the incident, police express that Robin Hood may be more cautious and is remaining under cover and may possibly leave his gift after things calm down.”

Turning the TV off, you sipped on your coffee as you relaxed on the balcony, taking in the beautiful sight of the city in a separate hotel. What with the safe breached and your husband’s life’s savings all taken, you didn’t bother to remain at the NIA hotel any second longer once you notified him. Knowing that he would fly back immediately, you left him with a simple text….

Sending out the half-hearted message, you immediately blocked out his contact, not at all wanting to entertain whatever response he would text back. With the divorce papers unsigned, you didn’t even care as you realized that lacking his signature, would only mean that the divorce is contested on his part, yet you also knew that he wouldn’t show up at court to provide a defense, meaning the judge would automatically rule in your favor, making the divorce as binding and legal. Either way, you won. He lost.

Hearing the bell ringing, you got up and checked the peephole to see the hotel’s concierge staff member on the opposite end with a delivery man next to him. Opening the door, you greeted the two men as the staff member nodded and respectfully spoke.

“Ms. Y/n, there is a delivery for you that requires your signature of acceptance.”

“Oh, a delivery? ….That’s fine, where do I sign?” a bit confused, you signed the electronic pad, reflecting your acceptance as the delivery man handed you a box made of leather. Thanking the two men and gently shutting the door, you walked over to the table where you set the box down. Opening the golden latch at the front, inside was a smaller box made of velvet, with a small envelop wrapped with a red ribbon. The wax melt that sealed the envelope contained the letters “RH”.

“It….it couldn’t be….”

Opening it, you read the small letter that was handwritten with such delicate calligraphy.

“Tis the night where thy heart yearns for thee, I pray thy Maid Marian, remains happily free. Just as the swallows that fly above ye pretty head, I sit and stare, painting the canvas of ye blossoming face from thy bed. For I seek the comfort of her warmth and touch, Come out wearing this above ye bosom, the one whose heart I miss much. Wait for me, as I come to ye, Become thy Maid Marian, forever with me.” Love, Robin Hood

Opening the smaller box, laid delicately in place, was the most beautiful piece you ever did see. A necklace….made entirely out of white pearls.

.....................

"let me give you a pearl necklace to wear around that beautiful neck or yours baby…" - Robin Hood

-Fin

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

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sdv-roseglass-farm · 1 year

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Sebastian x Tattoo Artist!Reader

This was requested by @dexpairs-blog :) Sorry it took so long, I have been busy with university, hope you enjoy it!

Sebastian had heard about the farmers cousin moving to the town a month ago - and had seen them around briefly. However, due to him working on a large project, he hadn't really talked to them much.

It wasn't until he had overheard Willy telling Gus about his new tattoo that he got from you that his interest was piqued.

His mind drifted towards you often, especially with different designs he could get.

He has always wanted to get tattoos, but never really got round to it.

One day, when the farmer was visiting Robin he casually ask about you, asking if you retired from being a tattoo artist or currently one.

When getting confirmation he would gather up the courage to ask you when seeing you in the saloon.

He would be flustered the whole time, having rehearsed how he was going to ask you since he decided he was going to look into getting the tattoos more seriously.

But finally standing in front of you, he noticed just how beautiful you truly are. With the warm light of the saloon causing you eyes to shine like stars.

He forced himself to look away, stumbling over his question but losing focus on how you are looking at him.

With being informed of your interest in getting a tattoo though, you organise for him to visit you the next day.

He spent the whole night panicking, unable to sleep and overthinking the interaction and how it would go.

When he went over the next day, he was shown some of your artwork, with you explaining how you used to have a studio in Zuzu city but it was closed down due to the owner wanting to sell it.

He fell in love with your pieces the more he looked at them, with the attention to detail and the passion you had for each one causing him to be unable to stop looking at you.

He decided his first tattoo should be a wizard staff from Solarian Chronicles, and he quickly lost track of time during the appointment as he watched you work and spent the whole time talking, even with him struggling to respond at times (socially awkward Sebastian)

He went back quite a few times, with planning more and more tattoos, loving how much care you had and the time you spent together.

After a little while he would start visiting to see and hear you ramble about some other clients and their tattoos, looking at your draft sketches and letting you talk through them as you try and decide on a few ideas to send to the client.

He would get sleeve tattoos, with letting you have free reign on ideas, knowing he would love anything you design.

When you two finally got together, not much would change - though you would allow him to give you a tattoo.

If you got married and had children, he would get their names tattooed on him over his heart, alongside something important that reminds him of you. These would be his favourite, alongside the wooden carving on his right leg that was of a carving Robin made him when he was a child.

Robin 100% cried when seeing that tattoo, because while they are not close - he does still love her a lot

After he moved out as well, he would get a small tattoo somewhere of something that reminded him of Maru, though he doesn't really tell anyone about it out of embarrassment and awkwardness.

#stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #sdv #sdv fanfic #sebastian sdv #stardew valley sebastian #stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley imagines #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley headcannons #sdv fanfiction

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midnightmagicks · 14 days

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FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Day 8: Free Day (Spontaneous)

Spontaneous: performed or occurring as a result of a sudden inner impulse or inclination and without premeditation or external stimulus.

Warm firelight danced across the length of the somehow cozy ishgardian inn room. This room was more like a small apartment nowadays; The occupant practically renting the room permanently. Another nearly permanent fixture of this particular room sat in his usual spot nearest the fireplace, curled up in a large cushioned chair.

While the owner of the inn room was out currently, E’mal waited patiently within for his no doubt speedy return. Hopefully speedy, given everything that had occurred this choice day. On a normal occasion, E’mal would busy himself with either a book or perhaps a knitting project to pass the time. It wasn’t uncommon for the other to take care of a task or job before retiring for the evening. However, his mind right now would not allow for that kind of focus. So the small Rava, curled comfortably on his side, gazed at a new piece of jewelry that graced his hand. His left hand, to be precise.

The ring was breathtaking. A beautiful plant-like filigree adorned with small diamonds and pearls that wove to the centerpiece; A violet gemstone array in the shape of a flower. He hadn’t been able to stop staring at it since Ezekiel had slipped it onto his finger. He could feel his cheeks flush once again as he giggled to himself, pulling his hand to his chest in pure glee.

He was taken completely unaware by the proposal. He knew Ezekiel very well by this point, he’d say. The man was not one to take spontaneous action. So this came as an even greater surprise, in his eyes. He had fully and completely not expected this. How had he missed Ezekiel planning something so important? When did the man find the time?

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard him; Heavy boots combined with subtly metallic clangs. The knob of the door turned and E’mal sat up straight, staring towards the figure entering the door with a bright smile. He hopped from his seat, tail wiggling happily as he nearly bounced his way to the door to greet his new fiancé.

Mentions @bloodredhands :) This is a sufficient way to announce that Gay Bunnies are getting married in game, right?

#funny bunny// e'mal khama #magician behind the screen// ooc #ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2024 #Day 8: Free Day (Spontaneous)#They Gay and In Love #Ezekiel Carus #gay bunnies gay bunnies gay bunnies

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

Photo

Villain: Dastigaan, The Maddest Mage of our Age

There’s a secret they won’t tell you about descending into the pit of madness. It’s that once you realize there’s no bottom your fall begins to feel a lot like flying.

It’s a well known fact that casters frequently meddle with powers beyond their understanding, at risk of not only inflicting trauma to their surroundings and their own mind, but onto reality itself. Dastigaan was the sort of mage folk all to reductively refer to as “mad”, the sort that confused the trauma he caused with an indicator of his growing power, and sought to cause more as a means of pushing his limits. He dealt with dark powers and lost himself in the forbidden reaches of the multiverse, returning home as a catacylsmic storm of arcane power that just so happened to still wear a mortal’s skin. Before he could unleash his terrible power he was caught and imprisoned by the great mages of the realm, an imprisonment that’s lasted for decades and will very soon come to an end, possibly with the party’s unwitting aid.

Adventure Hooks:

Dastigaan’s escape begins in the most innocuous way: The heroes come into conflict with a belligerent magic shop owner, who over promises on the capabilities or reliability of particular items and then throws the party out (using telekinisis) when they come back to complain. As they’re picking themselves up off the ground, a helpful tiefling by the tame of Tristham approaches to help dust them off and offer commiserations. the shopowner was an old business rival of his who elbowed him out of the magic trade and has been running roughshod over all the other enchantment vendors in town. Mutual cursing of the shopowners’s name turns into an offer of drinks, which turns into a completely innocent discussion of just how one might get into the shop and swipe a few choice items along with the owner’s collection of crafting diagrams. After the party returns victorious and after the heat dies down, Tristham will mention that he just so happens to have another job in the works, and that the party have just so happened to prove themselves more than qualified for an interview.

The architect of the big heist is one Ildra of Volennwal, a retired military officer and decorated war mage in her 60s who became dissolusioned with the kingdom’s goverannce after sustaining heavy personal injury including the loss of one of her arms to secure a victory that the diplomats traded away for trade concessions before she had even recovered. IIdra apparently has a plan to break a vault full of treasure held in reserve by the crown in the case of wartime, but is skeptical of the parties abilities to help pull it off despite her quartermaster Tristham’s appraisal. If the party want in, they’ll have to prove they can handle some danger... say by raiding a particularly notorious dungeon and bringing back a relic that will be useful in the caper

Drawn in by the promise of good pay and rich rewards by heisting an arcane vault, the party are half way into the execution of their plan when they discver that what they’re ACTUALLY doing is helping to break one of the most dangerous casters alive out of wizard jail. Do they abandon their plan an attempt to escape? Turn themselves over to the authorities? Go through with it and embrace their future as troubleshooters for a would be tyrant? They better make their decision soon, Ildra brought a small army of her old mercenaries buddies as a plan B of brute-forcing the jailbreak, and they won’t be too happy seeing their point-team turn tail and run.

Background: Far from the gibbering, nonsensical caricature that one could assume of most “mad” mages, Dastigaan is calm, cool, and in many ways perfectly reasonable. Backpacking through nightmare dimensions let him shrug off the destructive impulses of his youth and come to terms with what it really means to be a master of the arcane. The problem is where this reason will take him, as in order to avoid further pain, imprisonment, and attempts on his life, Dastigaan decided a few decades ago that each and every mage that acted against him or aided in his imprisonment must be made an example of. In order for these examples to be effective, they must be so direct and horrifying that they scar themselves onto history, a personal apocalypse delivered to each of the realm’s greatest casters to ensure the world learns from their mistake in opposing him.

This was exactly Ildra’s intent, having studied at the knee of one of those powerful mages and realizing far too late how his loyalty to the realm and distance and lofty position made him out of touch with the sacrifices of common people his grand stratagems necessitated. Knowing that she could never hold him, or the crown he served to account, Ildra remembered one of the old wizard’s forwarnings about the Maddest Mage of the Age and knew she had a weapon.

Further Adventures:

If your party don’t pick up on the original magic shop plot-tread (bastards) consider having them join up with the mercenary company that Ildra employs, or come into service of one of the mages Dastigaan is going to eventually target just before he escapes on his own.

The escape of the Maddest mage of the Age is going to make the great wizards and sorcerers of the realm shit their collective robes, having them stockpile arcane weapons, vanish completely as they flee to other planes, or drop all their responsibilities and disguise themselves as commoners while they wait for this all to blow over. While the panic and the chaos it brings begins to trickle down to the commons, the party end up adopting a skittish grey cat who seems intent on following them about for protection. This cat is infact Ildra’s mentor, having polymorphed himself into an easily overlooked form with a collar of nondetection.

While he possesses innumerable forbidden magics learned in his time beyond the stars, Dastigaan’s chosen method of avenging himself against his captors is to open the door to his good friend the outergod of paradox and let the lovecraftian horror horror go to work. Each of these violations results in the creation of a grisly monument, proportional in size and horror to how culpable Dastigaan believed that victim was in his imprisonment. Some are merely fist sized idols of clay and still living meat, others are grotesque instillation that eat up the lives and bodies of an entire city block.

#villain #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #horror #heist #theif #shopkeep #low level #mid level #Merchant #mercenaries #jail break #wizard #warlock #sorcerer #warfare

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capricornlevi · 2 years

Text

professional obligations - osamu miya x reader

summary: attending your neighbourhood's annual business awards ceremony is not exactly your idea of an ideal night out. however, the owner of a shop a few doors down from your cafe makes an appearance and, to your surprise, you end up liking him quite a bit. timeskip osamu x reader.

cw: explicit sexual content, consumption of alcohol

NSFW, 18+ - MDNI - MINORS and AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 5.9k

“Champagne?”

The waiter holds out the silver tray with a polite smile and no judgment in his eyes, so you take two of the flutes without thinking twice about it. You’ll need some liquid courage if you have any hope of sticking this out to the end.

If you had any other place to be on this Saturday night then you likely wouldn’t be here right now, in a mid-range hotel ballroom, attending the 25th Annual Local Small Business & Restaurant Awards ceremony with absolutely no connections to help you break the ice, and without a date by your side to keep you company.

You knock back half a glass of champagne with a grimace, hoping the waiter isn’t offended; your expression has nothing to do with the refreshments.

The champagne is actually quite delightful.

Thankfully, he’s moved on to serve the table next to you and so he doesn’t notice. You spot him chatting with the co-owners of a successful flower shop located across the street from your café, congratulating them on their win. You seem to be the only person having difficulty with small-talk this evening.

Your table has mostly been cleared except for a few coats and handbags draped over the backs of empty chairs. You watch as the guests mingle on the ballroom floor, showing off their medals and trophies and certificates.

Your own award sits proudly next to your place card – a small golden trophy bearing the name of your coffee shop, with “INDEPENDENT CAFÉ OF THE YEAR” written in tiny but perfectly-engraved letters at the base.

It’s silly. Just a trivial little token. After tomorrow’s celebratory post on the café’s Instagram account, you’ll likely forget all about it.

It’s silly, meaningless, but you feel proud nonetheless. You smile to yourself, allowing a moment of indulgence as you reflect upon your journey.

Running your own business hasn’t been easy.

It all started five years ago when you were fresh out of university, burdened with student loans and with absolutely no plans for the future, and so you took up a job as a barista in a locally-run café to pay the bills. You had zero barista experience and could barely prepare toast successfully, let alone the intricate pastries that the café was known for, but the elderly owner took a liking to you and gave you a chance to learn from her. Her wisdom and experience were unmatched.

Surprisingly, you found yourself loving almost every part of the job - baking in the tiny kitchen, brewing the coffee, chatting to customers - and just one year after joining you were promoted to supervisor. Business was never better than with you in charge and so you climbed up the ranks quickly, and when the owner retired three years later, she offered you the right of first refusal in buying the place.

It seemed ridiculous at first. You were twenty-five, had no experience in the behind-the-scenes aspects of running a business, and still had most of your loans to pay off. Even though your heart soared at the idea of making the café your own, it just didn’t seem realistic.

However the owner, only wanting to earn enough from the sale to retire comfortably, set the asking price far lower than what was typical for this area. It was still a big commitment, but it was one that you couldn’t refuse. As a result, you were able to secure a small business loan from the bank and, with your mentor’s blessing, started a complete rebrand of the café the moment your signature was on the dotted line.

The café soon became remarkably popular. It went from being a hidden gem that people tended to stumble upon by accident to a bustling local hotspot, reviewed in countless travel guides and magazines.

Word-of-mouth did the rest of the publicity for you. You only use fresh, local ingredients in your baked goods and the finest coffee beans for your beverages, and the steady line of customers outside the café every morning shows how your efforts are appreciated.

The award helps, too.

Setting aside your awkward reluctance to mingle, you suppose this evening hasn’t been a total waste. You allow yourself this moment of pride in your achievement.

“Best café, huh?” a voice calls out from over your shoulder, and you turn to face the person speaking. “Not surprised, to be honest. I had ya pegged to win it from the beginning.”

Standing to your left-hand side is Osamu Miya.

Osamu Miya, the owner of what is soon-to-be a chain of beloved onigiri businesses, is shooting a lop-sided smile in your direction, making your face heat for reasons you don’t quite understand.

He’s wearing a shirt and tie - business formal, as the dress code stipulated - but his suit jacket is slung over his arm, the top button of his shirt is undone, and his dark hair is a bit more dishevelled than it was when delivering his acceptance speech onstage.

You just stare at him for a moment.

He’s standing here as if you were expecting to see him, praising you so earnestly and seemingly without any ulterior motives. You’re very confused as to why he’s doing this.

You’ve spoken to him all of twice in your life; the first of which was to place an order at his shop to see if it was worth the hype (it was), and the second time was when you knocked on his door to ask him to sign a petition for new parking regulations to be implemented in the neighbourhood. Both conversations were brief and civil and very unexciting.

You don’t know him at all. To be honest, the only thing you have in common is that your café is three doors down from his flagship store.

And to be even more honest, a tiny part of you has been quite jealous of him for a while now.

You wish you didn’t feel this way. No part of you wants to begrudge anyone’s success — it’s not that he doesn’t work hard, he really does, you’ve seen as much from the countless times you’ve passed his shop on the way to work — but he just manages it all so effortlessly. His shop has been open for only ten months now and he’s already expanded to two new locations. He gets more publicity and acclaim than you’ve seen from any other business at this event, and every afternoon you see how the queue for his place doubles that of yours.

He has been honoured with no less than four awards for Onigiri Miya - Best Casual Dining, Best Newcomer, Most Popular Promotional Campaign, and the coveted Small Business of the Year prize - and the only times you’ve spotted him over the course of the evening have been while he’s on stage collecting a trophy or when he’s surrounded by people congratulating him on his success.

He seems perfectly nice, but some dark part of your brain worries that he’s just here to rub it in. He’s received fawning praise from pretty much every other person here – maybe he wants you to do the same?

Worst of all, you know he doesn’t mean what he said about anticipating your win tonight. He’s never even been to your café.

This is especially hurtful considering you bought not one, not two, but three onigiris when you visited his shop, yet he hasn’t bothered to even try a shot of espresso.

How rude.

He must notice the way you tense up, your lips pulling together tight, but his smile doesn’t falter even for a moment.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, gesturing to the one beside you. Up until twenty minutes ago, it was occupied by an overly-chatty local councilman who hogged all the red wine and kept making jokes at his opponents’ expense, but from the way he suddenly sprinted outside while on the phone with his campaign manager, you doubt he’ll be returning anytime soon.

You shake your head and watch as Osamu takes a seat by your side.

“Some event, huh?” he observes conversationally, as if you two have known each other for years. “I kinda figured it’d be boring as shit, but an open bar fixes all that, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you repeat back to him.

Your delivery isn’t exactly rude - even as jealousy rears its ugly head, the rational side of you knows that none of this is really his fault - but any observer could see that you’re not returning his enthusiasm at all. You’re barely smiling, nodding along just to be polite, clearly distracted.

Still, he perseveres.

“And hey, thanks for gettin’ that petition started, by the way,” he carries on, “I’m sure ya saw already, but it’s helped business on the street like nothin’ I ever saw before.”

Damn, he’s good at this. You feel your defences drop, the hostility evaporating from your system with every word that comes from his mouth.

Still, you don’t want to give in. He’s surely here just to pad his own ego, right? What other business would he have talking to someone who he barely knows?

“Yeah?” you prompt, testing his resolve. You look his way, trying to gauge his reaction – if he’s lying, you’ll surely catch him out now. “You think so?”

Osamu nods thoughtfully, the very picture of sincerity, and passes your test with flying colours.

“Hundred percent. It wouldn’t’ve gotten anywhere if ya hadn’t put the time in. I’m only sorry I didn’t get to help ya a bit more.”

Oh, shit. You’re smiling now. You didn’t do it consciously and you’re not even sure when it started, but it’s happening. You can’t seem to stop it.

“No problem. I’m glad it worked out,” you concede, taking another sip of the champagne – finishing the champagne, would be more accurate. You hadn’t realised how quickly you knocked back that last glass.

Osamu seems to have had a few glasses, too, judging by the pink blush that’s dusting his cheekbones.

It looks sort of nice, actually.

Both the blush and his … face, in general.

Woah. That development takes you by surprise.

Osamu leans back in the chair, looking at you in a way that makes you worry you’ve been found out, but his expression doesn’t betray anything other than a fond curiosity.

“Wanna go for another?” he asks, gesturing at the empty flute in your hand. “A drink, I mean?”

You glance around the room, trying to find the friendly waiter with the tray of champagne. You can’t see him, can’t see anyone offering glasses to the crowd – the crowd which has thinned out considerably since you last checked, leaving only half the attendees standing around. It must be later than you thought.

“I can’t see any servers … I don’t think they have any more champagne.”

Osamu flushes.

“I … uh, didn’t mean from here.”

He - what?

You set the glass back down on the table a bit too quickly, hoping the gesture doesn’t come across as hostile.

“I just meant … this place is gettin’ a little tired,” he explains, his delivery remarkably confident considering the blush has reached the tips of his ears. “There’s a bar just down the street if ya wanted to go fer a nightcap or somethin’?”

Your grin is back, and you blame the champagne for the words that slip out next.

“Getting tired of your adoring public?”

Osamu clutches his chest in mock offence. “You’re tellin’ me ya don’t adore me?”

It’s getting really difficult to pretend you have no interest in talking to this man. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you flipped, how you want to say yes to his request right now. You want to go for a drink with him. You want to keep the conversation going, to maybe find out he’s not as cocky and self-assured as you originally assumed.

You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking things over.

“I might not adore you,” you begin, laughing when he pretends to slump down in his chair with despair, “yet, anyway,” and he sits up straighter, encouraged, “but I will go for a drink with you, if that helps things?”

“That’ll do fer now,” he agrees, holding out a hand to help you up after you’ve grabbed your award from the table and slipped it carefully into your handbag. “As long as we get out of here before the mayor’s staff try to corner us again.”

You cast him an amused glance. “I thought you said this was a good night?”

“Yeah, it was, when the bar tab was still open,” he scoffs. “I couldn’t subject ya to their lecture about fuckin’ urban sanitation without at least one drink in your hand.”

Once you’re on your feet, he lets go of your hand and turns to fetch his jacket and his own awards from his table, promising to be back in just a second.

You take a few moments during his absence to try and process this whole thing, willfully ignoring the pang of disappointment you feel at the loss of his touch.

This is … weird. Not ten minutes ago you were sitting alone, proud of your victory but still sulking a little, feeling an embarrassingly childish resentment for the star of tonight’s show, Osamu Miya.

But now he’s after ruining the whole thing by walking to your table, charming you out of your self-imposed isolation, and making you kind of … like him.

And you’re leaving this event to go for a drink with him. Just the two of you. Alone. Since that’s the perfect way to commemorate the third conversation you’ve shared together, apparently.

Your mind starts to race. Are you friends now? Is he going to start stopping by the café in the mornings? Will he expect you to do the same?

Maybe this is too much too fast. You start to have second thoughts, instinctually racking your brain for a decent excuse to bail out.

But then you see Osamu approach you again, his tie loose around his neck and smile still so infectious, and all those anxious thoughts disappear … only to be replaced by more exciting, more confusing ones.

Seeing him now, he’s taller than you remembered - broader, too, as shown by the way his shirt tightens against his chest as he moves - and his features more striking, with his grey eyes capturing your attention in a way you’d never noticed before.

Your integrity is taking a serious hit tonight.

Still … you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit curious as to how things will play out from here.

___

The bar that Osamu takes you to is surprisingly cosy. You’re not sure why, but you had expected something lavish - this is an expensive neighbourhood, after all - but this seems to be more of a family-run establishment, small and contained, with an open fireplace and candle-lit lamps providing most of the visibility.

The wall is lined with booths and cushioned seats, only a few of which are occupied, and the music is playing through an old vinyl player perched on the bar counter.

You much prefer this to one of the busier, fancier cocktail bars that have popped up on this street.

The bartender waves at you both as you walk inside, clearly recognising your companion as he gives him a friendly greeting. You take a seat in a booth by the corner as Osamu goes to place the drinks order.

Once he returns with two beers in hand you stop nervously fidgeting with a loose napkin on the table, instead choosing to lean back in the chair to appear more settled.

You smile, thanking him for the drink.

Osamu takes his seat but doesn’t even get to take a sip of his beer before his phone starts to ring.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, grabbing the phone and turning down the call. “I’ll mute it.”

“You sure?” you ask in a way that’s almost teasing, prompting a grin and a shake of his head. “It could be urgent – it could be about another award.”

“You’re tryin’ to embarrass me in my favourite bar?” he asks, as close to deadpan as you think he can get. “After I got my hopes up you were startin’ to adore me?”

You chuckle and shrug, trying the beer yourself. It’s nice – from a local brewery you hadn’t tried before. He has better taste than you’d thought.

“That was my brother callin’,” Osamu explains with a roll of his eyes as he says the word brother. “Dumbass is playin’ abroad right now - well, the game is over, so he’s technically celebratin’ - and he doesn’t have any concept of time or schedules.”

“I mean, you’re out drinking too,” you observe, prompting another dramatic eye roll.

“He doesn’t have to know that part!” Osamu objects, sliding his phone into his pocket and leaning back in his seat. Another heart-melting smile. “Plus, I’ve got company. That’s where I wanna keep my focus, not on whatever shitty drunken singalong ‘Tsumu’s gonna try an’ start again if I pick up his call.”

Your face heats. At this point, you’ve given up all attempts at staying resentful.

Which reminds you of something you’ve completely forgotten to tell him.

“Congratulations, by the way. I never said it earlier – four awards, very impressive,” you say, finding that against all odds, you actually mean it.

“Thanks,” he beams, running a hand through his hair. “But it shoulda just been three, to be honest.”

You frown, confused. Osamu was the frontrunner for every award he was nominated for tonight, and you hadn’t taken his modesty to be that extreme. “What do you mean?”

He catches your gaze, almost as if he hopes the point will come across through eye contact alone; when it doesn’t, he clarifies;

“You shoulda won Small Business of the Year.”

Your resulting laugh nearly makes you choke on your beer. It’s flattering - sweet, really - and now that you have more faith in his intentions, you can appreciate the gesture.

But you’re also a realist. That award was one you knew you weren’t walking away with tonight. “C’mon-”

“I mean it!” he objects.

“Miya, I know you’re being nice, but you opened two new shops this year alone. And hey, don’t get me wrong, I did fine. But I didn’t get nearly as much business as you did over the summer.”

“Firstly, call me Osamu,” he retorts, his expression showing that he’s clearly having a lot of fun with this. He pauses as he brings the glass of beer to his lips. “And secondly, I’m not just being nice – I voted for ya.”

You blink at him for a moment, heart fluttering in your chest as you process the admission.

It doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He doesn’t sound like he’s lying. Still, you’re baffled – there were dozens of businesses on the shortlist for the award, and you can’t imagine Osamu Miya putting your name above all the others.

Mostly because he’s never even set foot in your door.

“I - uh, thank you, Osamu.”

He laughs. “You look confused.”

“Well, I am a little,” you admit, not even sure of where to start. “I appreciate it, but I just … have you ever tried my coffee? I mean, it’s completely fine if you haven’t, I’ve just never seen you-”

“I get it every day.”

You freeze, expression shifting from confused to utterly taken aback. “What?”

“I put in a mobile order every day, around eleven in the morning. I’m usually busy in the kitchen at that point, so one of the sales assistants collects it and I give them the order number.”

Same order, same time every day …

“Shit!” you exclaim, suddenly putting it all together. You set your glass back down and clap your hands together, lifting them to your mouth as if you’ve just solved some complex mystery. “You’re the one who buys all my lemon cake!”

He shakes his head — no malice in the gesture, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is that a question or an accusation?”

“Definitely an accusation,” you answer, knowing without a shred of doubt that your assumption is correct. Of course, this also means that Osamu is telling the truth about his consistent ordering, but you’ll unpack that in a moment. “Every day I get an order around that time – the drinks change every now and then, but they always order a slice of lemon loaf cake. Always.”

“And yet, no loyalty programme for the cakes,” he sighs, “I get every seventh coffee free, but no stamps for the cake. Just heartbreakin’.”

“I’ll take your suggestion on board,” you acknowledge with a soft laugh, thinking back to how long those orders have been coming in and how many slices of cake that must equal - a lot, if your addition is anyway correct - and feel this pleasant, warm feeling flood your chest.

Guilt also starts to tug at you, but you can’t see the sense of dwelling on that emotion for too long.

Not when Osamu’s here, looking at you like that, professing his admiration for you not just as a business owner and an equal, but as a purveyor of baked goods as well.

The least you can do is buy the next round.

Two beers later and the conversation drifts back to the topic of work, but in a different way than before. This time, it’s more vulnerable; the struggles of getting started in the hospitality industry, the insecurities of your line of work, and how the ever-changing nature of the city landscape means your business plan might change overnight.

“I guess I, uh, kinda worry sometimes,” he admits quietly, looking down at the table and tracing circles on his glass with his thumb. “About this whole thing, runnin’ it by myself.”

“Worry about what?” you ask, hoping your question comes across as reassuring and not outright dismissive. “Your place is the busiest on the street from what I’ve seen. Definitely the most stable business at the event tonight.”

“Thanks,” he replies, eyes flickering up to yours again. His lips quirk upwards when you meet his gaze. “‘I ‘spose I just worry that it’s more from … name recognition, than anythin’ else. And I don’t like that.”

“Name recognition?” you inquire. “From your brother?”

He nods. “Tsumu’s - well, he’s not a celebrity, exactly, but he’s well-known around here, as much as it kills me to admit it,” he says with the ghost of a smile. “And I guess I just … don’t want people to be comin’ to my shop out of some sort of sympathy. Like they think I’m only runnin’ the place because I couldn’t make it in volleyball.”

Before you can think things through, before your brain can slow your muscles down and offer you the chance to think sensibly, you reach a hand over to rest on top of one of his. He doesn’t acknowledge it with words, but he lets go of his glass and rests the hand down on the table so you can properly clasp it.

He continues speaking before either of you has to address the impromptu hand-holding.

“And I know it’s stupid, right? Cos hey, as long as business is comin’ in, it makes no sense to complain. But yeah … that’s the worry, I guess.”

“I’ve never met anyone who thinks that about you, Osamu,” you say softly, ignoring the thrumming of your heart in your ribcage as you feel his fingers intertwine with yours. “And I certainly don’t, anyway. You’re just a talented guy who puts in a hell of a lot of hard work.”

He smiles again. “Is that why you’ve gone all mushy on me? Ya like my work ethic?”

“Shut up,” you scoff, a little petulantly, “being nice to you isn’t mushy.”

“I’m a fan of mushy,” he clarifies, tracing slow circles on the back of your hand, “if that helps things.”

It does, and you show him as much by tugging on his hand, tilting your head towards the door to show your intentions.

Osamu pays the bar tab while you collect your things. A taxi is called, goodbyes are said to the bar staff, and for the second time tonight, you leave together.

Though this time, you know exactly how it’s going to go.

___

Osamu’s hands on your waist are careful but firm, pushing you back against the door as soon as it closes behind you.

The ride to his place was only ten minutes long - all of which was spent making out like desperate teenagers in the back of the taxi - and now that you have some privacy and space to yourselves, you’re not sure how you can last even a second without touching him.

You can’t imagine a better kiss, and then he gives you a better one just moments later.

You arch into him, feeling him groan against your lips, looping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against him to feel as close as possible.

The kiss goes from languid and passionate to heated and messy, and you let out a whimper when his tongue meets yours, licking into your mouth as you keen almost pathetically.

The varnished wood of the door feels cold against your shoulder blades and you shiver. Osamu notices, resting a hand on your nape to pull you towards him.

You fist your hands into the crisp fabric of his shirt. He smells incredible, clean and fresh, and you want to make his hair look even more dishevelled than it did after he ran his hand through it at the bar. What started as him trying to guide you away from the door has now turned into something that would be more accurately described as grinding — his hips are flush against yours, and you feel so desperately empty that you start to rock back and forth almost involuntarily.

“Do ya wanna-“ he mumbles into the shell of your ear once he pulls away, lips pink and kiss-swollen, voice torn and almost desperate, “- want to go to bed?”

You can think of nothing in the world you’d want more.

Your nod comes instantly, so enthusiastic that it should be embarrassing but it isn’t, and he takes your hand in his once again and leads you to his bedroom.

His surprisingly neat, very organised bedroom.

But you don’t have time to survey your surroundings too much because before you know it, Osamu is guiding you to lie down on his dark-grey bedspread, caging you in with his strong arms.

He leans over you, covering your body with his, peppering soft kisses to your jawline and whispering sweet praise into your ear.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted ta do this?” you hear him say, and you grin lazily as you finally run your fingers through his hair. “How long I’ve tried ta build up the courage ta ask you out? To have you like this underneath me, making those pretty lil’ sounds fer me?”

Warm, liquid heat starts to collect in your stomach, and you suddenly feel that you’re both wearing too many clothes.

You reach for the buttons of his shirt and feel his lips curl upwards against your neck. You undo his tie before starting to unbutton the rest, exposing more and more of the hard muscle of his chest. Not content to let you do all of the work, he paws at the back of your dress until he finds the zipper, lifting your back off the bed for a moment as he unties it.

Osamu sheds the rest of his clothes as you shrug the dress and your underwear down your legs and onto the floor. When he leans over you again, you notice he’s hard; you feel exactly how hard he is when his cock presses against your stomach. He grabs your tits, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you moan more wantonly than you thought possible.

You’re not usually this vocal, but he seems to draw it out of you.

Things escalate quickly, or maybe they don’t — you can’t really tell how much time has passed. All you know is his broad frame engulfing you, the pretty words he’s whispering, and the feeling of his fingers as they dip into your underwear and run through your folds, your body growing warmer and warmer under his touch.

You gasp - gasp audibly, your voice weak and thready - as he circles your clit, feeling how wet you are and slipping two fingers inside you moments later.

Your entire body shakes, trembling as he starts to move his hand, and you can hear how he’s working you open. The thrusts are steady and careful, his fingers curling in a way that makes your words slur - a string of ‘Osamu, Osamu, right there, please, please, fuck’ on repeat until your mind stops working - and you feel yourself dripping down his wrist.

Osamu looks delighted. When he’s not kissing you or rutting gently against your thigh for some relieving friction, he’s propped up on his other arm and just looking at you, taking in every lip bite and flinch and the way your hips cant upwards when he switches to a new angle.

He looks like he’s having even more fun than you are, which seems impossible since you’re practically on fire, that ball of heat growing and burning and getting more intense until –

“Fuck, Osamu, I’m coming,” you gasp, rocking against his hand as he fucks you through it, feeling it ripple through you for what seems like hours.

Your eyes screw shut as you come but when you finally gather enough strength to open them again, you see him admiring you with blown-own pupils, his cock rock-hard and leaking against his stomach.

“Need you,” you just about choke out the words, your body feeling utterly weightless. You’re surprised at how soon you want to go again, still feeling the aftershocks pulsing from your core, but the way he’s looking at you now makes you want to lean over and take him in your mouth.

“Need me?” he mumbles, pulling his soaking fingers from your pussy with a lazy smile.

You want to laugh, smack him playfully and bite back with something like don’t let it get to your head, Miya, but your mind isn’t letting you get that far. Instead, all you can articulate is a broken-sounding;

“Need you inside me.”

Thankfully, Osamu doesn’t try and tease you any further. Your words ignite something in him; he pulls back on his haunches and grabs a condom from his bedside table before you can even blink, breathing out a low moan as you start to pump him slowly. He fucks into your fist, biting into his lower lip as he does so, hands resting on his muscular thighs.

He starts to leak into your palm and at that, he’s had enough of the touching, leaning back over you and kissing you in a way that knocks the breath from your chest.

He rolls the condom onto his length and positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit and making you whimper, and gives you one last look to make sure you’re ready for him – he’s not exactly small.

You nod, certain that if he’s not inside you soon, your core will start to physically ache.

He pushes inside you in one slow but fluid motion. It fills and stretches you in a way that you’ve never felt before and your thighs spread wider for him, needing to feel that sensation again and again. Once you’ve had time to adjust to his size, he starts to move, thrusts steady and firm.

It’s unbearably hot. Every movement, every touch, it all makes you feel as though you’re burning up underneath him. Judging from his expression, he feels the same.

If he seemed like he was enjoying himself before now, it pales in comparison to the look on his face at this moment; cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering shut as he swears under his breath, lips shining from having kissed you over and over.

He tells you exactly how good you’re making him feel: how your walls are squeezing him just right, how he’s imagined fucking you before but this is somehow better, how you’re so wet he wants to stay buried in your pussy forever. You want to reply but his thrusts are hitting too deep for you to form coherent sentences.

His hands are back on your waist, manoeuvring you easily since the pleasure has rendered you utterly boneless and pliant underneath him.

However, that all changes when you see him approach his peak - you can tell as much from the way his movements turn erratic, and the swears and praise start to flow out as if he has no control over it - and you decide to take charge. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you, gripping his shoulders and leaving little crescent-moon indentations in his skin.

He groans into your shoulder and comes deep inside you. He keeps thrusting into you; even in his fucked-out state, he seems intent to bring you to the edge along with him.

It works – you come again without warning, the build-up from before now entirely absent as the orgasm burns through you. You cry out, the sound barely muffled against his shoulder as you spasm around his length, your quaking thighs struggling to stay wrapped around his hips.

Cliche as it may sound, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You take a ragged breath, feeling your chest move up and down, your nipples grazing against his chest. His lips are still at your pulse point, kissing you gently.

Slowly, very slowly, you start to untangle yourselves. Osamu pulls out with a soft hiss, still half-hard, and you let your legs fall back against his bed. You lift a hand to your forehead, feeling how your skin is damp and flushed, and let yourself come back to earth as Osamu disposes of the condom.

He returns a moment later, laying down next to you on the bed, giving you a smile that is surprisingly but achingly affectionate.

Your heart skips triumphantly. You’ve gone from resenting him to liking him to really liking him in the space of a single evening, and there’s no denying how much you want him to keep smiling at you like this for the foreseeable future.

He cups your face with one of his large hands, and you can easily predict what he’s about to ask you next.

“Wanna stay over?”

You hum, pretending to think it over even though, once again, you know what your answer will be.

“I mean, it’s sensible – we share a commute,” he points out, and you can’t argue with him on that one. “Plus, I heard ya make decent coffee.”

You let out a weary sigh, oozing fake annoyance. “So that’s why you brought me over?”

“Nah, it’s just yet another point in your favour.”

Before you can say anything else, he brings you in for a kiss - tender this time, soft and careful - and as strange as it sounds, you find yourself looking forward to the morning after. And maybe the morning after that, as well.

There are definite perks to working three doors down from Osamu Miya.

#osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #timeskip osamu miya x reader #haikyuu #may tries to write #timeskip osamu has taken root in my brain #those damn compression sleeves!!!#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader

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