#but if you think i would cheer on harassment even if i had leagues of evidence you are Sorely mistaken

[aritany]

I've followed Alex Harvey's blog for a bit and I've never seen them even talk about you once. I think the last anon may be trying to use you to harass another author. I really think you should try to corroborate claims like this because posting an anon with a specific callout can lead to harassment for the other author.

see related post

[gremlingottoosilly]

Just one shot [Military photographer!Reader x CoD characters] part two

You successfully escaped the hell of the art school — in debt, with nothing but your(shitty) camera, a diploma and disappointed parents who never understood your life choices. Being a part if the military wasn’t your first option, but what else can you do? And at least, people here are fun to work with…

Content: female!Reader, lots of bad jokes, young!Reader, nationality is not stated but has a strong accent, a little bit of angst, I have really vague understanding of the army, Reader is short&not really strong, slow burn, Reader is shy and not very social

Character focus in this chapter: Soap, Gaz

🤨📸

Being one of the few women on base, who were not constantly engaging in combat or military trainings, had more downsides than benefits. You are not just weaker than your fellow soldiers, since your profession let you escape the gym as long as you wanted, but also more desirable to pick on. Short, shy, forced to talk to everyone so you make photos for the yearbook of each unit, while working exclusively alone — by all means, you are the perfect victim to evil pranks and not very clever romance attempts.

Right now, for example, you were clinging to your camera, while desperately trying to look for the way to escape a soldier’s grasp without making too much noise or attack him directly. You are good with riffles, and the camera is heavy enough to be considered a weapon — but still, you are not a close combat fighter.

Of course, this guy was trying to ask you out — a typical behavior for boys who haven’t been in touch with reality for a whole months straight, and were seeing you as an easy target. You hated this and you hates the feeling of helplessness that came with such situations — but there was mostly nothing you could do.

— Aye, mate. I would advise yer stop bothering our fine lassie out here and shut yer puss.

Oh.

There he is, your prince with mohawk and accent that you still can’t quite process.

You never knew that seeing his weirdly serious expression would make you cheeks blush, but you decided to blame it on the general anxiety of this situation. A recruit who was harassing you quickly disappeared after a friendly hand of Soap resting on his shoulder. You didn’t exactly knew what he was saying to him, but it was clear, that not something all fun and cheerful.

And still, Johny — even if would never dare to call him that — saved you. Now you were standing in the hallway, with your camera held close to your chest, and shaky, still unstable legs.

— Thank you, sergeant. I was…well, I wasn’t expecting him to being so stubborn about wanting to know me.

— Yer were standing here like a deer in headlights. He was quite a munter, but why didn’t you said anything, lassie?

— Thought we were alone and it would be useless. Plus, I was really worried that he could broke my camera if I would refuse him too harshly, so…yeah.

You tried to smile, to make some silly joke out of this situation, but Soap clearly wasn’t convinced. If anything, he looked even more worried — and placed one hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing soft skin under your jacket. He tilted his head, now looking a little bit like a bird — cute, curious one. You tried not to think about how pretty his concerned eyes were, but failed.

— Next time, you gonna bring yer arse to me second some hackit would try to bother you again. Got it?

Ah yes, because you really want to bother your very attractive superior about some idiots trying to get to you. On the other hand, however…he looked really worried. And it’s not like you would be constantly clinging by his side — even though you would still need a few photos for the 141 album.

It wouldn’t hurt, to hang out with him and the other members a little bit more, right? For purely professional purposes, of course, you don’t want to seem like a silly little recruit who is hanging out with people way out of her league. Even if this is true, and they are way too cool for someone like you.

📸📸📸

— I’m just not sure whether he likes me or just tolerates me. I get mixed signals and I’m terrible at reading them.

— Mate, if Soap would hates you, he’ll be very vocal about it. You can’t just shut him up most of the time, so I doubt he hates you. Seems like the opposite, really.

Gaz was the easiest person to get along with — and the most friendly as well. Your photoshoots quickly became a way for you to share latest gossips and just chat in each other’s company for a little bit. You liked having a friend like him — while not particularly close one, he was also very acceptable of your way of (over)thinking and shy personality.

And he looked great in sunglasses.

It’s funny, because you actually hated making photos of people in sunglasses, darker lenses would always direct light right into the lense and would mirror everyone in front of it, but Gaz somehow make it less terrible — while looking like a freaking superhero movie character.

— You sure? He always uses his dialects on me and, um, I know English, but he somehow makes me feel like I don’t.

— What kind of words does he using? And you can always ask him to just speak normal English, you know.

— This would be insensitive! I appreciate his culture and don’t want to seem like an ignorant jerk. And, erm, he is calling me bonnie all the time, which is weird, because I am clearly not a rabbit.

Gaz froze in place for a second — a perfect pose for you to make another photo. Then he bursted out in pure laughter and, quite frankly, you have no idea what so funny about Soap basically calling you a bunny without any reason.

— And I thought I am bad at clues. He likes you, for real, if he calls you this.

— Wait, then what…what does this mean?

Gaz laughed again — a pure sound that is forcing you to also start giggling a little bit, only saving a little bit more stability in the camera because of your professionally trained and experienced hands. You smiled, trying not to look at him too much — but really, Gaz is very pretty when he is smiling.

So making a lot more photos feels a little bit obligatory.

— It means that he called you pretty. Like really, really pretty. Scottish dialect and everything.

Soap…called you pretty? Oh no. Oh no, no, no, you can’t have that! You both needs to be professional and…well, you really should stop thinking about these two guys. Way out of your league. You just a photographer, and they are legends.

Gaz patted your shoulder, bringing you to a little but awkward, but still warm hug. And to be quite honest, you never wanted to break this hug. Ever. Especially when he was holding you gently, in a way that didn’t feel threatening. Making you smile every second of it.

Do you have a multiple attraction problem?

[sunatooru]

Just to be funny and chaotic, I’d like to request head cannons of Oikawa, Atsumu, Terushima, and Futakuchi reacting to their crush or s/o punching a fangirl or not hesitate beating the breaks off of them. I’m tired of the clichè mean fangirls that need to be told off by their idol to not harass his s/o or the s/o cries over them and lets them walk all over her.

Y/N’s normally chill and nice to everyone but they won’t hesitate in decking a bitch in the throat or nose with a smile on their face. Imagine the shook expressions on everyone’s face when:

Fangirl:*is rude and talking shit about Y/N*

Y/N: 😊 *punches her hard enough to break her nose and looks to her volleyball player crush* Either put these bitches in their place or I’ll put them in the hospital 😃 *says sweetly*

These were fun to write! Hope you like them xx

~

Warnings: gn!Reader I think, physical violence, fangirls being very rude

~

Oikawa

* everyone knows he has his group of fangirls

* They’re always there, bringing gifts and praising him

* So when they saw you hanging on his arm, they felt threatened

* They couldn’t believe he chose to be with you, as if you were some demon

* The didn’t hide the dirty looks they gave you, getting more rowdy until a trio decided to corner you

* “Oh look, it’s the clout chaser.” You ignore their snickering, rolling your eyes

* “You don’t even deserve Oikawa. He’s out of your league..look at you thinking you’re so cool just because he gives you attention. He probably just pities you, I mean I would too. I can’t believe-“ she can’t even finish her sentence as you punch her face

* She stumbles back and looks in shock, her friends trying to help her

* You grip their shirts, pulling them closer before speaking

* “No no please continue…” you smile

* “Something about pity? League? You sound like jealous little girls hah. You really want to know why he chose me? Because I’m not desperate for 5 seconds of attention…” you scoff and laugh in their faces

* “What the-“

* “Oh look, your precious setter is here.” You announce, pushing past the girls and walking towards your boyfriend

* “B-babe what’s-“ he tries to hide the shock

* More shocked that you could do that and look so…cool

* “Call a cult meeting before there’s no members left.” You walk past him, a few seconds later he’s chasing you to apologise

Atsumu

* His fangirls always begged for his attention

* But he ignored them, only sparing a glance to snarl at them when they interrupt his play

* He had a reputation and it was surprising when he managed to get into a relationship with one of the nicest people in the school

* But to his fangirls, you were a problem

* Always whispering about you, fake smiles when you cheer in the crowds and trying to get with your boyfriend

* You make your way to the gym and notice his fans And they kiss their teeth at you

* “Why are you here? He doesn’t need you distracting him, like please, we get it. You’re obsessed with him”

* You sigh loudly and walk towards the entrance

* “Ah hello? We’re talking to you bitch.”

* And just like that you swing your hand and swipe it hard again her neck

* Pushing her back as she starts coughing

* “Obsessed?? Me? Stop being a stalker and get a life.” You laugh, the boys running out after hearing some commotion

* “Angel? What happen?” Atsumu runs out and looks over you

* “Nothing. Just your little stalkers here thinking they could run their mouth…either put these bitches in place or I’ll put them in hospital.” You blink innocently at him

* He can help but smirk and nods

* “Yes ma’am”

Terushima

* He didn’t really do much to get so ‘famous’

* He was just a guy who likes to have fun and girls seemed to like that and he was captain of the volleyball team

* But what they didn’t like was that he liked you

* They saw the way he looked at you, the whole school did and you found it cute at his playfulness when he would approach you

* You two had gotten close and his fangirls were far from happy

* You’re just walking and minding your own business before a girl bumps your shoulders as they walk past

* “Uh what..” you turn around and she crosses her arms

* “Oh look, it’s Yuuji’s plaything.” She scoffs, laughing at you

* “What did you just call me?”

* “Exactly what you heard. I don’t know what he sees in you to be following you around like a puppy. Like you’re nothing special, even the dirt under my shoes are better. You must think you’re so cool now that you’ve got him wrapped around your fing-“

* You slap her hard across the face, fuming as she stumbles back

* “You’re talking a lot for someone who tries to hang off him all the time. If you’re jealous just say it and go. Don’t be a bitch because you lost. No wonder he hasn’t noticed you. Ugly personality, ugly person.” You clench your jaw, turning around and seeing Terushima gawk at you

* “Apparently she thought I was competition but hopefully that slapped showed we’re not in the same league.” You give him an innocent smile and walk away

Futakuchi

* he was already pretty intimidating and only gained attention when he became captain

* They liked how he taunted opponents and his general confidence

* And over time a small group of dedicated fans was established

* And they hated you. His long term partner

* They would sneer at you all the time, starting rumours in hopes you’ll break up

* He even went to them to stop but they pretended to know nothing

* You’re sitting down waiting for him in the canteen when you feel something wet on your arm

* You turn and see some of the girls surround you and feign innocence

* “Oh we’re so sorry. We didn’t see you. Oh are you waiting for Futakuchi? You’re still together?” They sigh

* “Of course we are.”

* “Is he not tired of you yet? I would be. You’re nothing special. You don’t even do anything for him. We do so much! He would be better without some like you and I’ll happily replace you.”

* You see red before your swing your arm and punch her across her face

* “I don’t know who you think you are. But don’t talk shit to me like I care about it. You’re so pathetic.” You grit your teeth, breathing heavily until you feel an arm around your shoulder

* “Damn babe, didn’t know your right hook was that strong.” You stare at him

* “Shut up…fix your fans before I actually lose it.” You mumble, grabbing your bag as he pulls you away

* “Don’t worry, I’ll let them know exactly what I think about them after we eat. My treat.” He winks

[bluefirewrites]

hey if it's okay can you write random willex headcanons?

Willie thinks Alex is way out of his league and super self conscious when it comes to talking to him

I’ve made this point before, but I would like to make it again and add some more details. 

To Willie, Alex is this accomplished person- with passions and goals that he’’ll still be able to fulfill even though he’s a ghost. 

Willie loves to skate but it’s not like he could turn that into a career or compete if that was what really wanted to do (not like he would do it if he had the chance- doesn’t want to complete his unfinished business). He thinks he’ll get left behind while Alex goes off to bigger and better things. 

Alex has this amazing support system, unlike what he has at the HGC and Caleb- why would he ever want to spend time with Willie when he already has this close-knit group to hang with?

And come on- Alex is tall, blonde, and handsome. A deadly combination. 

He probably inwardly cursed at himself for laughing and saying ‘pancake ya’ to this cute ghost (”Really? Pancake ya? God, that was lame...”)

Alex is the affectionate one out of the two

He would slowly ease into the whole PDA thing because he still harbors some anxieties as a result of his parents’ treatment of his sexuality. 

But once he becomes comfortable enough, he initiates a lot of physical contact when he and Willie are together. 

As I mentioned before, Alex’s hugs are amazing. He hugs everyone but especially Willie. And Willie doesn’t get a lot of hugs anyway, and Alex seeks to remedy that. 

Alex would definitely be the one to nuzzle his nose against Willie’s before sharing sweet kisses on the couch during band rehearsal. Or lean his head on his shoulder. 

But for some reason, Willie always initiates hand holding. Just like how he did when they went to the museum for the first time. To Willie, hand holding is more intimate than hugs. 

Quick ones: 

Alex likes to stick fun stickers onto Willie’s helmet. His favorite one is a small ‘Baby on Board’ sticker. Willie agrees. He is baby. 

Willie for sure sneakily promotes Julie and Phantoms. Dropping a business card or two, pulling up their videos on managers’ laptops. He was the one who gave the boys the idea to book the Orpheum gig that way. 

Willie tells Alex about TikTok and shows him all the dances. Alex kills it and Willie honestly could watch his bf dance all day. 

Alex learns skateboard maintenance for Willie. He carries wrenches and replacement bearings in his fanny pack in case Willie needs it. 

They both trip homophobes who harass couples on the street. 

I know we see a lot of clothes sharing, but imagine Willie wearing Alex’s cap. That paired with his long hair- he would reach max skater status. 

Willie does things to make Alex laugh whenever he gets hit with random waves of anxiety and nerves on stage. He would make funny faces behind audience members or steal hats or signs and wave them around, cheering loudly at him. 

They love going to the ballet together (like the Get Down, iykyk). They both make an event out of it even though they know no one would see them. Willie would dress up in his blazer and Alex would wear that dress shirt (Caleb may be evil, but the style tho). 

[sunflowershouto]

when mineta hits on their crush - bakugou, kaminari, kirishima

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Thank you for the request, darling! I love jealous headcanons so these are definitely fun for me to write! If anyone wants to see this headcanon with other characters, lmk! <3

My requests are open!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Headcanon of Bakugou, Kaminari, and Kirishima reacting to Mineta creeping on their crush.

𝐛 𝐚 𝐤 𝐮 𝐠 𝐨 𝐮

✧ Bakugou usually ignores Mineta when he’s like this. Paying attention to some sad little creep is a waste of time, and frankly he doesn’t usually care to stop his classmate’s behavior.

✧ Despite that, when Mineta starts talking about L/N, Katsuki finds himself listening quite closely, an irritated grimace on his face as the stupid grape-head rambles on about how he’d like to see her in the girl’s locker room.

✧ He sits near you in class, and just as you’re about to spin-kick Mineta into orbit, you hear Bakugou scoff, his glare directed right at Mineta. His expression is much harsher than usual, but it looks like he’s trying to play it ‘cool.’

✧ “Oi. Do you know how pathetic it is for you to be drooling after someone so far out of your league?”

✧ You’re kind of shocked. Sure, he’s more going after Mineta than complimenting you, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to get involved at all. You’re confused as to why he suddenly intervened, and you feel like you’re watching tennis as your head turns back and forth between the two.

✧ Mineta sputters out some excuse about how beauty needs to be admired, his usual creepy speech about how he’s merely a misunderstood appreciator of the female figure. Gag.

✧ Before you can get a word in, Bakugou cuts in again.

✧ “I’m sure her boyfriend would beat your wimpy little ass for saying that!”

✧ “My who?!”

✧ “L/N has a boyfriend?” Now it’s Kaminari chiming in, both disappointed and surprised. “Damn!”

✧ “Yeah, as a matter of fact, she does! And it’s not gonna be some damn extra like one of you!”

✧ Most of your classmates are now huddled around Katsuki’s desk, prying to hear the name of the mysterious boyfriend that you didn’t know you had. You’re just dumbfounded, staring speechless at Bakugou and wondering where the hell he was going with all of this.

✧ They’re all nagging him now, eyes wide as they asked how he knew, and who he was.

✧ You know exactly what he’s gonna do as soon as you see that stupid smug grin cross his face. “Bakugou, don’t you da-”

✧ “It’s ME! Now will all of you losers go back to minding your own business?!”

✧ Before anyone can react you’re dragging him by the ear out of the classroom, marching him down the hallway and ignoring his profane protests. You start interrogating him as soon as you’re alone, asking him what the hell was wrong with him, why he’d tell your entire class a lie that was obviously not true.

✧ Bakugou, as Bakugou does, gets angry and tells you that he was doing you a favor, and that you were lucky to even be associated with him like that. He expects a thank you, because now Mineta will leave you alone.

✧ He’s going on a whole angry rant about how he only did it to shut the kid up. HE IS SO SMUG.

✧ You cut him off with a kiss, and when you pull away, now it’s him asking you what your deal is.

✧ “I thought you were my boyfriend?” you remind him, blinking innocently. “Saturday. Pick me up at six, and don’t be late.” You walk away before he can really respond, and he starts yelling at you to ‘get back here right now!’

✧ Sure enough, 6PM on Saturday, he shows up outside your house.

𝐤 𝐚 𝐦 𝐢 𝐧 𝐚 𝐫 𝐢

ϟ Kaminari and Mineta will occasionally scheme together, but not this time.

ϟ Denki has never really been interested in creeping on L/N the way Mineta has, and honestly sometimes he wants to electrocute his classmate just for looking at her.

ϟ It’s between lectures, and Aizawa isn’t in the room, so things are a chaotic mess, as per usual. Mineta is being Mineta and Kaminari is getting increasingly more irritated.

ϟ Mineta makes some weird crack about how he wants L/N all to himself, and Denki snaps.

ϟ You’re on the other side of the room, and Kaminari walks over to you, making sure that Mineta is watching before turning to you.

ϟ “Hey, L/N.” He’s clearly nervous out of his mind, and Jirou and Momo, who you had been talking to, are staring. His internal thoughts sound something like ‘WhatAmIDoingWhatAmIDoingWhatAmIDoing.’

ϟ “Come with me to the arcade later. I’ll pick you up.”

ϟ  ?????? THIS WAS NOT PART OF THE PLAN. THERE WAS NO PLAN.

ϟ “Uh. . . Okay?” you laugh, face heating up slightly as you looked up at him. No big deal, your crush just asked you to go out somewhere with him. This is fine.

ϟ She said yes?!?!?

ϟ “Sweet! Then it’s a date!” he cheers, a grin spreading across his face. Part of him is exploding because he just scored a date with the hottest girl in Class 1-A. The other part of him is gloating over the fact that he just schooled Mineta.

ϟ  “Right! A date,” you echoed, smiling as your blush deepened.

ϟ  What you weren’t expecting was for him to lean over and kiss you before returning to his desk, his hands resting on his head.

ϟ  “WHAT WAS THAT?!” Mineta is completely dumbfounded and on the verge of tears. “Not! Fair! How long. . . How long have you been hiding this!”

ϟ “What can I say?” Denki laughed, acting as though he’d been confident and aloof the whole time. “Guess I’m just a catch.”

ϟ Mineta ever speaking about you again is sure to get him zapped, if you don’t manage to do something about it first.

ϟ No one except you and Denki (and Jirou, who totally figured it out by herself) know that you hadn’t really been dating.

ϟ To this day, the memory of that day still haunts Mineta.

𝐤 𝐢 𝐫 𝐢 𝐬 𝐡 𝐢 𝐦 𝐚

♢ Eijirou already thinks Mineta’s whole shtick is pretty deplorable, so when it comes to Y/N, he’s always been a little extra touchy.

♢ Kirishima is a softie, but he’s not super great about expressing his feelings, so when anyone asks why he’s so specifically bothered by Mineta harassing you specifically, he defends himself by saying that the manly thing to do is to stand up to him.

♢ You’ve always sort of had a thing for Kirishima. After all, he always goes out of his way for you, whether Mineta is involved or not.

♢  Eijirou is practically your best friend, so you’re around each other more often than not, meaning that when Mineta is harassing you, Kirishima is most likely around to hear it.

♢ Most of the time he trusts that you can handle it yourself, it’s one of the things he likes about you. But sometimes, when Mineta goes too far, he steps in and makes sure to put the little scoundrel in his place.

♢ Today, it went too far.

♢ Usually, Mineta just stuck to words, and by now you’d learn how to deflect it. Today, though, was one of the few instances where Mineta just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

♢ Your costume had been torn during training; it was nothing too scandalous, just your midriff had been revealed.

♢ Of course it was enough to make the grape-head lose his mind. He was all over you, and you were struggling to shove him off.

♢ “HEY.”

♢ You’re relieved to hear Kirishima’s voice, and soon Mineta is torn off of you and thrown harshly to the side, where Eijirou starts to yell at him.

♢ “What are you all bent out of shape about? Not like L/N is your girl or anything!” Mineta’s grating little voice argues.

♢ “As a matter of fact, she is. And even if she wasn’t, a real man would have helped her out anyway, you little creep!”

♢ You’re watching, somewhat shocked. Had Eijirou just called you his girl? Had he meant it?

♢ Mineta storms off in a jealous rage, and Kirishima smiles when he turns to you. “You good?”

♢ You nod, unsure of how to approach it. He barely even seemed like he’d remembered what he said. When you try to bring it up, he initially waves it off, but both of you know there’s definitely something more there.

♢ You ask him to meet you after school, and you’re impatiently watching the clock all day.

♢ You meet up in front of campus, and you start to ramble, not really sure what you’re saying but just trying to clear up whatever had happened.

♢ Kirishima cuts you off by pulling you close to him, his hand is on the side of your face. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase, ‘kay?”

♢ You’re dating from then on out, and literally none of your classmates are surprised.

//

[jj-bxby]

Where Do We Go? |Chapter Two| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary - Y/N is a Mainlander who has just moved to The Cut. When she meets her new neighbor, she just may have found the family she’s been searching for, and more.

gif credit - @rue-bennett

Word count - 4.1k (oopsies)

Warnings - Teenage drinking, mention of abuse, fluff at the end

A/N - Okay so I went a bit extra for this chapter, so please let me know what you think! And just ask if you’d like to added to the tag list for the series ❤️

JJ slung his arm around me, walking me over to the small bonfire his friends sat around. The bubbly blonde told me about how I would love his mates and I would become one of the pogues before I even knew it, and I sure as hell hoped he was right. We came to a stop at the fire, and JJ gestured proudly at me before exclaiming a little “Ta-Da!”

“Hey, you found Mystery Girl!” The brunette chuckled.

“Well, she isn’t a mystery anymore. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are the Pogues. Pope, Kie, Sarah, and John B.” All of the pogues greeted me kindly, and Kie patted the empty spot next to her for me to sit down. “So,” Kie began, “We hope we didn’t bug you too much by asking you out here, it isn’t every day that someone new moves in!” She flashed me a smile. “And don’t worry, we don’t bite.”

“Except JJ.” John B grinned

“JB, don’t be a little shit, alright? We want her to stay, you doof,” Sarah said as she gave him a little push on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had to deal with JJ the whole way here. John B seems to be in the minor leagues compared to him, at least on the Shithead Scale.” Kie, Sarah, and Pope all laughed with me while JJ and John B looked at each other in mock-offense.

“Thank God we’ll finally have someone else who can put up with them.” Pope smiled.

“Oh yeah, it can’t get much worse than JJ scaring me awake and making me face-plant out of my hammock.”

“JJ did what, now?” Kie cocked an eyebrow at JJ accusingly.

“Okay, in my defense, I tried to wake her up calmly! She looked like she was gonna karate chop me or something when she shot up outta there!”

“Yeah, because waking a random stranger, who you have never spoken with, from her nap is sooo calm,” I teased. “But yeah, when he woke me up, I was not expecting it. He’s lucky I didn’t headbutt him!” I pointed at JJ, and he smiles.

“Yeah, don’t wanna damage the money-maker.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Your ego would have cushioned the blow.”

“Goddamn, girl, you’re gonna give J a run for his money,” JB chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, Pretty Girl got me this time,” JJ retorted while he stood up, walking over to me. “C’mon, can’t leave ya empty-handed.”

I nod at him, accepting his outstretched hand to help me off the log. “Back in a minute, guys.” JJ led us both to the standing keg in the center of the beach.

“Can you tell if they liked me? Was I saying stupid shit?” I asked the boy, slightly nervous. This was a new thing to me: I was never one to care about what people thought of me, so why do I care now?

“Don’t worry, doll, they loved you,” he winked. “Not everyone can handle me and my—“

“Bullshit?”

“I was gonna say cockiness, but that works too. But anyway, they love you. You’re a natural pogue, Y/N. I think Kiara and Sarah, like you, especially.” We finally reach the keg, and he turns to face me. “On tonight’s menu, we have beer or vodka with some strawberry lemonade Crystal Light. Pick your poison.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, suddenly finding the sand very interesting.

“So, uh, here’s the thing. I’m not really a drinker,” I begin, finally looking back up at JJ, who’s gaze never left mine. “And—“

JJ cuts me off, quickly. “Shit, I’m sorry. Look, you don’t have to pick anything if you don’t want to, it’s not a requirement or anything. And I don’t want to pressure you, you know?”

“Oh my god, JJ, shut up for just a second, okay? I was gonna say I haven’t ever drunk, so I don’t know what I like. I was gonna ask you what you thought I should pick, you dummy.” I giggle at him as he rakes his hand through his hair.

“Well, in that case, I’d say beer. Just don’t drink too quickly, ‘kay Pretty Girl? Don’t want you throwing up on me,” he smirked.

“Alright, beer it is, then.”

JJ knelt down to grab a cup and pour a drink, still chattering on about how I need to drink a glass of water for every cup of beer. It’s so stupid, but I was so in awe of him. This boy I knew nothing about just mystified me, everything about him did. The way his lips curled up at the edges whenever he said something he thought was funny, the curves and lines of his biceps, how wisps of his hair were caught in the starlight perfectly, and, oh my God, his eyes. They were so brilliantly blue. They were the kind of blue that made me hear Hawaiian waters in my ears. The kind of blue that brought a sense of serenity, despite the chaos around us. The brilliance of his eyes did not hide their depth — at least not to me. I could see the shimmer of midnight within them, and the kind of navy blue found in an endless, bleak cavern. Behind the cool, icy facade, there were storms dappled throughout the calm. JJ handed me my now full cup, and I opened my mouth to ask him a question, but a voice interrupted me before I could even begin.

“Found another Touron to fuck, aye, Maybank?” JJ’s head snapped to the source of the voice. Another tall blonde had walked up to us. This boy seemed to be the complete opposite of JJ: Gelled hair, board shorts, a pastel-toned shirt, and an air of arrogance surrounding him. He wasn’t calming like JJ, he was intimidating.

“Lay off, Rafe. She isn’t a Touron, she just moved to the island,” JJ spat. He then grabbed my hand protectively, seeming like he wanted to shield me entirely from the drunken boy’s words.

“Ah, so she’s a long-term fuckbuddy, then.” The boy, Rafe, cackled as he swayed. JJ just rolled his eyes and squeezed my hand in his, his eyes finding my own.

“He’s drunk, Y/N, don’t worry about him. Not that he’s any less of an asshole sober.” I nodded, and JJ faced Rafe again. “Go off to your Kook friends, and don’t fucking talk about her like that, got it?” Rafe rolled his eyes and ignored JJ, instead locking his gaze on me.

“Once you see his old man smack him around, you’ll change your mind about him, babe. He ain’t worth shit.”

I kept my eyes locked on Rafe’s as I spoke slowly, my voice unwavering. “Leave us the fuck alone. Now. I don’t care who you are, I don’t know you, but I will not back down to you. So you better stay in your damn lane. You seem like one to not fight girls, but I don’t discriminate.” I finish, and immediately turn around and head off towards the bonfire where the pogues were sat, tugging JJ along with me.

He stopped us and I spun around to look at him, glancing over his shoulder to see Rafe giving me a smug look as he took a swig of his vodka before I shift my eyes back to JJ’s. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’re a feisty one, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well I don’t exactly take kindly to people who harass my friends,” I sigh. “I’m kinda scrappy, I guess. At least that’s what my everyone used to tell me.”

“Friend, huh? I like it. And, look, I’m not looking to just fuck around with you, y‘know? If I told Rafe that, it’s all he would have fixated on.” His gaze falling to the sand.

“JJ, I get it. Don’t worry, okay?” I wait for him to look at me. “I’m a walking box of daddy issues, anyways,” I smile slightly, and JJ gives me a laugh.

“Well, damn, we have even more in common than I thought, Pretty Girl. Now, let’s head back to the fire, you need to relax after all that.” I smiled at JJ and noticed how his eyes flicked to my lips for half a second. Just friends, though... right? JJ guided us back towards the group, his arm slung around my waist, and I was definitely hyper-aware of every inch of his skin pressed against my midsection. I take a sip of my beer, trying to distract myself. Finally, we stopped at the bonfire, and everyone gave us a little cheer and a wave, and JJ pulled me down to sit beside him.

“Hey, was King Kook giving you shit, Y/N?” Sarah asked me.

“Yeah, ’cause we’ll mess him up if you want us to,” Kie butts in, giggling. “But seriously,” Sarah continues, “You looked pretty pissed off, did Rafe say something? God, he’s such a dick. And I can say that, ‘cause I live with him.”

“Ah, he was just drunk and pestering us, is all,” I say. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Yeah, the pretty one can fend for herself, it seems. Not that I wouldn’t have stepped in if they threw down, of course. But, that being said, I would be pretty curious to see how badly Rafe would get his ass beat.” JJ grinned at me proudly, and I wiggled my eyebrows at him as I sipped on my drink.

“So, on a more serious note, what do you think of the OBX so far, Y/N?” Pope asked me.

“Oh, it’s so frickin’ gorgeous!” I nearly yell, and I bring my hand up to cover my mouth, surprised by my outburst. I giggle before I continue on. “Well, at least what I’ve seen of it, I guess. But I really can’t wait to go out on the water, of course I still need to find a boat somewhere, but the sea is so perfect for swimming. It would be damn good for fishing too!” I was pretty obviously excited, and John B grinned at me.

“Well, missy, you’re in luck. The HMS Pogue is in need of a drive again, and we were planning on going out tomorrow. You up for a little initiation ride?” John B asked, raising his eyebrow.

I smile widely. “Hell yes, I am!”

“Well, it’s settled. Tomorrow, you’ll officially become one of the pogues, Y/N,” Kie said excitedly.

JJ raised his cup, “To the pogues!”

“To the pogues!” We all cheered. Everyone began babbling together about things that needed to be ready for tomorrow — and whether or not they should push me off and into the sea to see if I can get back onto the boat as a ritual.

I smiled at the sight around me and took a swig of my drink, and JJ bumped his shoulder into mine before whispering in my ear. “See? I told you they’d love you as much as I do, Pretty Girl.”

I suppressed a shiver when I felt his breath against my ear, trying my hardest not to falter in my voice as I responded quietly. “Mhm, I’m pretty hard to not love, huh?” I brought my cup up to my lips again, and he cocked his eyebrow at me, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Goddamn,” he murmured as he shook his head. He glanced down at my cup and looked back up at me, concerned. “You better slow down, you know. I know you haven’t been drinking before, so… Just be careful, ‘kay?”

I rolled my eyes at him, sipping my drink again. “Oh don’t worry about it, I have to get used to it somehow,” I say, brushing him off. I can see that his brows are still furrowed, and I think for a second. “Y’know, if you’re really that worried about me, I guess you can stay at my place tonight.”

“Oh really, now?” He questioned teasingly.

“You’ll be on the couch, dumbass.” JJ just laughed, and his brows softened in relief.

“I like this arrangement. I’ll take care of ya if you need it, Y/N.” I nod at him, and I realize that I just invited him back to my own house, and I wonder when I became so brave. I turn away from JJ as Sarah asks if I’ve ever been scuba diving before, and I begin chatting away. As we talk, I can feel JJ’s gaze on me, and for once in my life, I don’t mind it. For once, having a boy pay attention to me was a good thing, even if it was simply him being a concerned friend. Eventually, I finish my drink and JJ pours some water into my cup, I mouth a silent ‘thank you’ to him, before turning back to Sarah and Kie.

“What brought you to the Outer Banks, Y/N?” Kie asks me.

“Oh, I guess it a bit of a long story. But… I think I just really needed a fresh start.” I say quietly. It wasn’t technically a lie — it was more of an omission. It was a long story, and I did need a new beginning, but I didn’t exactly want to say why. Not yet, at least.

“Hey, I think we’ve all felt that a time or twenty,” John B says reassuringly. “Do you have a job lined up out here yet?”

“Oh yeah, I’m teaching dance classes to little kids over on the North Side. I used to it back on the Mainland, too. Actually, I was a dancer myself back there.”

“Ooh, is it the one that’s brand new?” Sarah asks me, and I nod. “It’s only a few minutes from my house! You have to come over, Y/N!”

“I’d love to,” I smiled widely at Sarah.

“Here, gimme your phone, girl,” I laugh and hand my phone over to Sarah, and she enters her phone number for me. My phone ends up being passed between all of the pogues, all of them entering their contacts and sending themselves a text to get my number. I smile as JJ passes my phone back to me, finally, him being the last one to enter his number. Sarah is extra bubbly now; telling me about how she’ll let me pick through her closet, how we’ll walk on the boardwalk and see all of the small artisan shops, and how she wants to take me to the little ice cream stand that sets up every day near her house. “Kie, you have to come too, it’ll be a girls’ day! Don’t even start on how you don’t like unnecessary gender roles and shit, okay, it’s just an expression.” Kiara smiles and tells us that shes in.

“So if it’s just an expression, does that mean I can come too?” Pope asks, feigning a pout.

“Nope,” the three of us say in unison. “Look, we have to show her that there’s actually shit to do on the island, aside from working and fishing,” Kie says as she gives Pope a kiss on the cheek.

“And we have to get to know her too, duh. Can’t do that with you boys around,” Sarah smiles at me. “Don’t worry, we won’t do anything crazy, though.”

I smile back at them, and I tell them that I can’t wait for our girls’ day. I go to take a drink from my cup, only to find that I’ve finished my water, and I make a pouty face. I stand up, looking around. “Anyone need a refill?”

“Yeah, I do. You sit back down, though, I’ll run and grab some,” JJ tells me. I roll my eyes and tell him a little thank you before passing him my empty cup. I sit back down and see that everyone is looking at me expectantly. “Uh, did I do something wrong?” I ask.

Pope shakes his head, “No, no nothing wrong. It’s just—”

“We haven’t really seen JJ take to someone as quickly as he has to you,” Kie explains. “He doesn’t usually trust anyone very quickly.”

John B nods at me. “Yeah, the closest he gets is being flirty with Tourons that he wants to f— Ow!” Sarah smacked him on the arm to cut him off, and John B gave her a little glare as he rubbed his arm.

“It’s nice to see him actually let his guard down and hit it off with someone,” Pope clarifies, smiling kindly. “He’s a good guy, he just doesn’t trust people very easily.”

“But, he clearly sees something in you to change that,” Kiara adds. “I think he picked a good person to put his confidence into.”

I smiled to myself, appreciating the pogues’ reassurance. It feels like I’m actually surrounded by love for the first time in my life, and although it frightened me, it made me so happy at the same time. When JJ came back to us, we all laughed and drank for a few more hours, before finally deciding it was time to head back to our homes. We were able to walk together the majority of the way, but eventually we had to split off. Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and John B all headed back to his house, and JJ and I branched off to my own. Admittedly, I was quite buzzed. I was lucky to have JJ at my side, as I nearly tripped a time or two, and he caught me every time.

“Y/N, you’re lucky I decided to come with you,” he laughed. We had finally reached my doorstep, and I was facing JJ, my back resting against the door.

“Y’know, JJ, I wish I’d done more stuff like this back on the Mainland. Made more friends, gone to more parties. I would have had a much better time,” I told him.

JJ smiled softly at me. “As much as I may agree, I’m glad you didn’t. I’m glad I get to meet you.” I grinned lazily at him, fumbling for my keys in my pocket, eventually finding the right one and shoving it into the lock, twisting the key and opening the door. I kick off my sandals and JJ does the same.

“So, I don’t exactly have a guest bedroom, but I do have a futon couch.” I say, grabbing blankets and a pillow out of one of my packing boxes and tossing them onto the couch. “I’m so fucking tired.”

JJ sits down, and looks at me, tilting his head. “You know you’re one of us now, yeah?”

I think for a second, not sure how to respond. “I mean, I guess. For how close-knit you all are, I’m glad you guys accepted me.” His lips curled at the edges, and his eyes left mine.

“Me too, Y/N.”

I clear my throat slightly. “Well, the bathroom is down the hall, and the kitchen is right over there if you need water or anything, okay? And my room is just past the bathroom if you need me. Don’t need me,” I say jokingly. JJ smiles as he lays his head back against the couch. I walk off to my bedroom to change out of my clothes, wash my face, and finally lay down.

•

JJ had finally fallen asleep after nearly an hour of thinking of you. He couldn’t get you off of his mind; Your smile, your laugh, the curves of your body, the way he found you sleeping in your hammock that day. You had looked so peaceful, your features soft. God, he just wanted to touch you. He hadn’t wanted to fall for you, but from the moment he’d seen you that day, his heart had skipped a beat. It still made his heart quicken thinking about it.

Kie just pointed you out to all of them, and JJ had to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground.

“Hey, who’s the new girl, JB?” He’d asked, taking a sip of his can.

“No clue, dude. I didn’t even know the house had been for sale, honestly.”

That’s when he saw you looking towards them, and waved as he flashed you a smile. He caught himself staring for an extra second, studying the way your cheeks looked as they flushed with color, and the way the right side of your cheek dimpled as you smiled.

Sarah gave a small whistle when she noticed him staring. JJ snapped his head to her, flipping the bird.

“Ooh, JJ’s ‘boutta be whipped y’all.” Pope cackled.

“J, you don’t even know the girl! Try not to stare so much.” Kie said smugly. JJ groaned, and chugged his beer. He knew they were right, he was staring. But he couldn’t help it, he had never found anyone that attractive. Ever. Something within him felt drawn to you, like a tether being pulled in your direction.

JJ snapped awake as he heard a small yelp. He slowly relaxed back into the couch, until he heard it again. He stood up cautiously, trying not to bump into anything. He padded down towards your room, hearing soft weeping as he grew closer. He gently opened the door, only to find you with a tear-stained face, thrashing your head against the pillow as you whimpered. His heart hurt at the sight, and, without thinking, he sat on the bed, and gently woke you.

•

I don’t totally remember what my dream was to make me wake up with tears running down my face and choked out screams escaping my throat, I just know that it was JJ who held me against him as I woke. I do know that it was JJ who stroked my hair and told me that I would be okay, that he was here. I do know when I finally looked up at him, he was the one who wiped away my tears with his thumb. He was the one who kissed my forehead as he helped me slow my breathing. I know it was him who told me that it was okay as I whispered so many apologies through my tears. His voice was the one to calm me as thunder cracked through the sky, lightning illuminating the room. “Shh, Y/N, it’s okay. You’re safe. I promise. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” he mumbled to me, stroking my back. He continued holding me against him, murmuring calming things to me, helping me relax.

“I’m so sorry, JJ. I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember,” I whispered as I shook my head, my breathing finally evening out. “God, I’m sorry I woke you up. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that.”

JJ sighed, and he pressed a kiss to my hair. “It’s okay, doll. I always wished someone was there to do this for me. I’m just glad you weren’t alone.”

I pull back from his chest to look in JJ’s eyes, getting lost in their blue spell. “Thank you,” I whisper. He tilts his forehead to rest against mine. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, just as they did earlier that night. Boldly, I pressed my lips to his gently. And while JJ seemed surprised, he didn’t pull away. He moved his hand to rest against my cheek, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone delicately. I felt as though I was melting as he moved his lips against my own. I brought my hand up to his hair, finally able to run my hand through his soft mess of hair. We sat like that for what seemed like forever, our bodies intertwined as our lips slid together as thunder clapped through the sky. Until eventually, JJ pulled away, out of breath. “I… I shouldn’t have done that, have I? You’re drunk, Y/N.”

“No, JJ, I barely am, okay? I’m the one who started it, remember? God, I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” The words seemed to pour out of me, and I was suddenly exhausted. “I… I know it isn’t great timing. But I meant it.” JJ’s eyes examined my own, studying how my lashes grazed against my brow bone, and how gorgeous my lips looked despite being puffy. “Please, just stay with me tonight, JJ?”

He nodded slowly before laying back in the bed, opening his arms for me to crawl into, finally resting my head against his chest. JJ presses a kiss to the top of my head before mumbling quietly, “I won’t leave you, Y/N.” I finally closed my eyes again, listening to the fluttering of JJ’s heart and feeling his hands playing with my hair. I finally felt safe as I drifted off to sleep. It was the best sleep I’d gotten in years.

•

taglist ~ @hmspxgue @drewswannabegirl @jiaraendgame @midnightmagicmusings

[wxlfstxrx]

sweater weather chat #5, part 2

our dear @shinymooncolor​ asked me to help write part 2 of her amazing text fic that had me screaming into my pillow at 6am. lots of hockey puns, lots of laughter, and lots of flirting oOoOooOOoo. thanks shiny for the guidance, and i hope you like it as much as i do :) characters by @lumosinlove​!

They had won. He had had his second shutout of the season. A perfect way to pay back a new sponsor. Kasey had never cared much for sucking up to the guys in suits. He had a handful of lucrative endorsements— he didn’t have to do much besides wear certain brands for press and endorse a bunch of stuff like skates, equipment, and even hair products once in a while. 

The teasing over the past few days had been near insufferable. And he still felt like kicking himself. But he’d been so frustrated and turned on and Nat knew. She knew what a single snap would do, knew he had to suffer through another two hours worth of presentations. He had tried to pay attention, he really had, but once he knew Kris was taking notes, his mind had drifted. Having his girlfriend live texting and snapping pictures of herself did not help. His phone had glitched at one point, and the texts had been sent off to the worst imaginable group of people. Even texting his mother by accident would have been better than his immature, prankster teammates. 

He stomped down the hallway, following the excited chatter and buzzing of his team. He knew the press would be interviewing him, so he stayed in character, not even wincing when Pots threw an arm around his shoulders and cheered loudly before smacking a kiss to the helmet perched on the top of his head. He did, however, squeeze back when Leo wrapped an arm around him, part congratulating and part sympathetic, and he patted his rookie mentee on the back in response. 

Coach began his victory speech as he slowly and methodically padded down, unlacing his skates and disregarding the increasing volume that arose on the back of a win. He ignored the pointed whispers of the boys next to him— Kuny and Nado were always up to something, and he wasn’t going to rise to their bait. Not this time. 

Dumo got his attention as he sat down heavily next to him, between him and his Russian stall neighbour, wrapping a sweaty arm around his shoulder and waxing poetic about his saves. He rolled his eyes, but immediately re-schooled his face as the media swarmed through the doors. They descended upon him and Cap, and he politely answered questions with pre-studied replies and polite smiles. There was a commotion and some wolf whistles and whooping, but he resolutely ignored it and continued speaking to the reporter.

“No, I’m always preparing differently, each game is new and you can never truly rely—” He stopped short, feeling his cheeks flame; even his many years of psychological training and optimisation had not prepared him for the sight of his six foot teammate dressed up in fishnet tights, some sort of leather bodice and his tattoos on full display. Their teammates were whooping and guffawing, and when Nado caught his eye, he winked exaggeratedly and blew a kiss.

“What the bloody fuck,” Kasey whispered, his jaw dropped and his face bright red.

Nado casually sauntered over to him, falling into Kuny’s stall with frankly too much grace for someone in five inch stilettos. He draped himself against Kasey’s side, and Kasey blinked, leaning back.

“Hey, handsome,” Nado smirked, curling a lock of Kasey’s long brown hair around his finger. He leaned closer, his breath tickling Kasey’s cheek. “I bet my stick would feel great in your crease, don’t you agree, sweetie?”

Bewildered, Kasey’s gaze snapped to the rest of the locker room, purposefully avoiding looking into the cameras. God, he bet the media was having a field day with this… whatever this was. All around him, his teammates and some of their partners who had come down to congratulate them on their win were bent double with laughter, with Pots right at the front gleefully recording the whole spectacle, presumably for Nat, who had not been able to make it due to a gig on the other end of the city.

Nado hooked his legs over Kasey’s on the bench, throwing his arms around him as he seductively trailed a finger down his cheek. “Or, if that’s not your cup of tea, I’m happy to let you cover my crease any time. We can work on our power plays together.”

Someone roared with laughter, and Kasey pushed Nado, who was practically seated on his lap now, off of him. The heavily tattooed man pouted, his big blue eyes glistening like the ocean on a clear summer’s day. 

“Aww, c’mon babe, don’t I look hot in leather? The boys seem to think so, and something tells me that you do too,” He smiled sweetly, and Kasey scowled at the others. Tremzy looked like he had just scored his first goal in the league, and Harzy had an arm slung around him, grinning smugly. He met Leo’s eye, and he gave him an apologetic smile and half nod, but his eyes were glittering with amusement. 

“I—” Kasey had to stop himself from cussing in front of the media, and he groaned instead, running his hands through his frazzled hair.

“Err, sorry,” The reporter— not Skeeter, this time— cut in, evidently entertained but also very confused. She turned to Nado, seeing as Kasey had buried his face in his hands, muttering under his breath. “Jackson, help me to understand the situation here. Is this some sort of new game ritual you have, or are we missing something?”

Nado smiled lazily, leaning back against the stall divider beside him and combing his fingers through his floppy brown fringe. “Ask Kuny, he’s boss.”

Realising what Nado had done, Kuny spluttered, glaring warningly back at Nado, but he simply shrugged and began to rub Kasey’s back sensually.

Kasey jumped, and he quickly whispered to Nado as the reporter headed over to a very harassed looking Kuny, the cameras trailing behind her.

“Nado, what on earth? What are you guys playing at?”

“Sorry man, I had to. ‘s my punishment for that whole… thing with Kuny’s cousin. He made me do it,” Nado grimaced for a second, then shrugged, batting his eyelashes. He looked down at himself, cocking his head and nodding in approval at the tight leather bodice around his torso. “Gotta admit I look smashing though, I might just have to get a picture of this for the gram.”

Kasey sighed, and looked over at Kuny, who was surrounded by the media and the rest of the team, in their various states of undress.

“Nado been bad. I punish him,” He replied curtly, not wanting to speak more than he had to. Talker snorted, and Sergei and Dumo both barked out a laugh which they covered up with a cough.

The reporter’s eyebrows flew up beneath her bangs. “Oooookay, seems like there’s been lots of, uh, love going around today,” She turned back to the cameras, which swung back round to face her, and she began wrapping up her interview.

Kuny awkwardly slid away, approaching Nado and Kasey as the press made their exit. He thwacked Nado upside the head, and he yelped. 

“Fuck you. You— You buttface,” Kuny growled menacingly, but everyone around them burst into another round of laughter.

Timmers wheezed, and he slapped Kuny hard on the back. “Fuck Kuny, you’re a real special one, you know that?”

“What?” He glared. “I cuss at Nado, why you laugh?”

“Nothing,” Timmers shook his head, his hazel eyes bright and shining with mirth. “Nothing, Kuny. You’re good. Stay like this forever, please.”

Pots, who was still recording, whipped the camera around to face Kasey and Nado, still seated on the bench, Kasey having forgotten about removing his gear when the press had come in. Nado instantly threw himself back onto Kasey’s lap, flicking his fringe dramatically and smiling at the camera.

“Say, Nado, why do I have a feeling you’ve got more to offer than what you’ve given us already?” Pots grins, zooming in to Nado’s wink.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask!” He lifted the back of his hand to his forehead theatrically, his voice a high pitched whine. He didn’t even break character, Kasey had to give him that, but before he had the chance to push Nado off him again, the other boy had cupped both his cheeks in his large hands and brought their faces close together.

“You know, I think the ref should’ve given you two minutes in the box earlier,” Nado simpered, waggling his eyebrows at Kasey, who decided to fix his gaze on the long scar running across his teammate’s face rather than look into his eyes. “Because baby, you’ve got me hooked onto you.”

Kasey’s eyes flew up to meet Nado’s in a frown. “I— That wasn’t— What?”

Tremzy gasped loudly. “Blizzard, are you… blushing? From that pick up line?”

“What? No I’m not,” Kasey tried to defend himself indignantly, but Nado was grinning from ear to ear and even Loops, who had been silently watching all this while with a mysterious smile, snickered at that. 

Nado turned so he was straddling Kasey, and his hands gripped onto the dividers on either side of them, effectively caging Kasey in his stall. With nowhere else to look at, Kasey dared to roam his eyes over Nado, from his chin-length brown hair falling into a curtain around his face, to his confident smirk, down to his bare unshaved chest, still glistening with sweat from the match earlier and the stifling heat in the locker room. 

Up close, he could see the details on his tight leather corset, the three heavy straps in the front and the tight shiny material stretched out at the crotch, giving Kasey an impressive but probably very inappropriate view of Nado’s groin. He flushed even more as he realised Nado’s bare ass, save for the fishnet stockings, was planted on his lap. 

Speaking of the fishnet… Fuck. 

Nado had actually shaved his legs for this. What the hell. His long legs were spread wide open and his muscular thighs were pressed against his own, and those stilettos... His stall suddenly seemed very warm, and Kasey leaned back against the wall behind him, his head thunking against the wood loudly.

“Oh, Kasey,” He pinched Kasey’s flaming cheek with one hand, and he swatted it away, huffing in embarrassment. “Seems like the fishnet and leather are indeed to your liking, eh?”

“Fuck off,” He muttered in response, crossing his arms and turning to the side.

“Oh, but don’t you just love the way the fishnet feels against your legs?” Nado purred into his ear. “Just imagine, darling, what these legs will feel like, wrapped around your—”

Kasey stood up suddenly, his hands sliding under Nado’s ass and lifting him up. Nado shrieked and clutched onto Kasey’s broad shoulders tightly as he turned around, slamming him up against the empty wall beside his stall. He leaned in close enough so their noses were almost touching, his light brown eyes blazing, a stark contrast from his usual calm and collected front. “Yeah, Nado? You wanna go? Why imagine? I’m not afraid of spearing you. Think you can handle me, hmmm?”

He raised a brow, and Nado’s eyes widened in shock. He heard a mixture of gasps, chokes and laughter from behind him, and his lips curled up in a victorious smirk. He stepped back from the wall, walking them over to Kuny, who was seated by his stall. Kasey let go of Nado, dropping him into his roommate’s lap, and nonchalantly turned back to his stall to continue undressing. As he tugged off his leg pads and skates, he called over his shoulder to Kuny.

“Take your work wife home, won’t you, Russian God? He’s got a timeout.”

With that, he peeled off his jersey and the rest of his gear, and headed to the gym to cool down, leaving the rest of the team in chaos.

On the way out, he passed by Kuny patting Nado on the head comfortingly and telling him, “Hehe, not be bad anymore. I’m win.”

He was sure he heard Nado respond with a “Fuck, I think I need a cold shower. Now.”

[burntmcnuggies]

Dabi SFW Alphabet

No warnings! Just fluff! Enjoy! :D

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) he’s not very affectionate, but shows he loves you in his own way. He’ll let you stay the night with him on occasion and hold you in his arms. He’ll also let you touch his face, and he hates when people touch him. He’ll also get you small things. He’s never been in a real relationship, so he doesn’t know how they work. He asks Toga and Twice and gets you a teddy bear or flowers every once in a while. It’s rare, but always surprising and sweet.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) he doesn’t really do friends that much, but he would definitely count on you and trust you to have his back. The friendship started when he broke into your house to hide out from the cops. You were watching a movie and eating popcorn and just sat there staring at him. You both stared for a while before you looked back at the tv and continued watching your movie. He was confused. You were just too tired to deal with anymore shit. You’d had a shit day with shitty people. He threatened to kill you, but you just blinked at him and commented about how beautiful his eyes were. He looked at the movie and instead sat and watched it with you until the cops left the area. You promised not to tell anyone in exchange for him never breaking into your house again. He broke the deal, but you never told.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) he secretly likes to cuddle. He’ll act cool and irritated and complain you’re too hot, but he secretly loves when you cuddle him. He also likes to feel your smooth hands touch his scarred skin, makes him feel at ease. One thing he loves to do though, is spoon with you. (Ngl I had a five minute thought session of the spelling of spoon cause I thought it was different for some stupid reason.) feeling your body heat and being in complete control makes him feel powerful. He could burn you to a crisp if he wanted, but you’re the least annoying person to him, so that’d be a waste.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) he’s a villain and has no intentions of settling down and getting married anytime soon. He believes marriage is just a new title for you both. If you know you love each other what’s the point in getting married? He’s good at cooking, but horrible at cleaning. He’ll leave all of that up to you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He would either burn you to death cause you know too much, or kidnap you and keep you as a slave to the league. He’s not taking any chances of you spilling the beans to the heroes or anyone else for that matter. Always be cautious if you’re planning to end it with Dabi. Choose your words carefully or you’ll end up in ashes. When he breaks up with you, be prepared to be threatened.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) he thinks marriage is pointless, and it would openly display a weakness to other villains and heroes if they knew this sinister villain were married. People wouldn’t take him seriously enough as a villain. That’s what he believes. However, if you annoy him enough he’ll give in so he can stop hearing you “bitch” about commitment. It turned out not to be that bad, except he melted his wedding ring a fight. Not on purpose. It’s the knowledge that he’s your husband officially now that makes you happy. And he’s all about you wearing your ring. It shows everyone you’re his.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) he’s very rough and sadistic. If you fell and scraped your knee. He would kneel down acting like he was going to look at it, but would instead flick it really hard and grin at your pain. Eventually he’ll grab you a bandaid and tell you to stop bitching. Emotionally if you’re sad, that’s when he’s most gentle. If you’ve had a bad day at work and you’re crying, he’ll try to comfort you. “You look really ugly when you cry, you know that? Who gives a damn about your shitty co-workers?” He will drape his jacket over you. “And your boss is just a lil cock-sucker. You could always just say the word and I’ll use them for fuel to burn your work to the ground.” Villainous, but he is a villain. It always cheers you up knowing he would seriously go to such lengths to make you happy and cheer you up.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) He tried to ignore that he loves your hugs, but sometimes can’t control it. When you spend the night with him you always lay with him and hug him, he won’t admit it but he likes your hugs, even if he finds them annoying sometimes. Unconditional love and sweet hugs were never apart of his childhood, and if you happened to stop hugging him, he would just hug you and not let you go.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) takes him a very long time to say it, if he even does. He doesn’t really believe he needs to tell you he loves you. He expects you to already know how he feels. The first time he said it was when you were complimenting his looks. Telling him how handsome he was, how strong he is, how his determination is so admirable, and that no matter what happened that you would always be by his side to support him and his dream. “Well, well, that’s not a bad attempt there. Better than your previous ones.” He knows you’re trying to make him feel more confident in his looks and heart, but it never works. “...don’t leave me, (Y/N). Or else I’ll have to burn you alive. It’d be a shame to see the woman I love turn to ash.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) will get jealous easily depending on what the situation is. If you’re purposefully trying to make him jealous, beware the consequences and prepare yourself for a very long night of punishments. If someone is hitting on you, he’ll walk up to you no matter where it is and grin sadistically at the man. “Hey doll, this guy givin’ you problems?” He’ll activate his quirk and stare him down intimidatingly. “If so I can fix that right away.” Whoever it is will run away in terror. Unless it’s a hero, and then you know you have to drag Dabi away before he really gets arrested.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) he likes his kisses to be heavy and hot. He likes to assert his extreme dominance over you and show you who’s boss. He likes to kiss your lips, cause he knows once he kisses you you’ll be thinking about him all day. Another spot would be under your jaw. He likes this spot for some reason. Maybe it’s the fact that if he could he could bite into you harshly and make you bleed. And to mark you and let everyone know you belong to him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) horrible. Never bring him around a child ever. He’s already had a bad enough childhood as it is, and he doesn’t want his child to experience that. As for other kids, he finds them greatly annoying and when they cry and scream all he wants to do is shut them up and scare them. If he had a kid with you... don’t expect much. He won’t help a lot. But he enjoys laying around with your infant in his chest while he watches tv. He’ll let them do whatever they want. He only wants to give them a good life he never had.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) he’s lazy. He’ll lounge around without a shirt with some sweat pants on. His hair will be pretty messy and sticking up more than usual. A lot of the times you catch him staring at himself in mirror running his fingers over his scarred skin. Then he’ll glare at his reflection. You always walk behind him and hug him and kiss all of his scarred skin. Then he’ll pull you into the shower innocently and wash your hair.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) he’s an animal at nights, relentless in the bedroom... if you know what I mean. That’s his ideal night. However, sometimes you need a break from his constant sexual harassment even though he’s your boyfriend. He’ll be grumpy, but end up breaking into your house unannounced and watch movies with you. Sometimes, he’ll do your hair, or paint your nails with a bored expression. He’ll even wear face masks with you to soften his wrinkled skin. One time, you straightened his hair flat against his head and laughed as hard as you could because he looked like a more depressed and scarred version of Shigaraki. He ended up forcing you to pass out as punishment.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) don’t expect him to ever open up to you. He’s a very secretive man, you don’t even know his real name if he even has one. He’ll tell you about missions and complain about the other members of the league of villains, but anything about who he was before that you’ll never hear. Soon, he’ll tell you eventually. Just not any time soon.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) he’s not easily angered. If he is it’s very passive and threatening. You have seen videos on the internet of some of Dabi’s appearances from civilians when they perform the large scale attacks, and he loves to taunt the heroes. You’ve never seen him yell, only angrily glare or scoff with a sarcastic and rude remark.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) When you begin to talk about your past, it always appears he’s not listening. He doesn’t really care all that much. He likes focusing on the now and the future. However, he pays close attention to things that make you upset. If you talk about a traumatic experience, he’ll act as if he’s not listening, but secretly he’s promising you that he’s never gonna let whatever happened happen to you again. Then other times, he’ll remember the embarrassing stuff about you and tease you to death.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) His favorite moment in your relationship was when you got embarrassed for Shigaraki calling you both out for being a couple. You were, but it was only the beginning and you were still embarrassed and uncomfortable being around so many dangerous villains. You became super flustered and red in the face. He loved teasing you and peppering your face in kisses just to embarrass you and make you flustered.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He’s a bit protective, he can’t really do much since he’s a villain and would be recognized or put you in more danger if the heroes were to discover you and him were romantically involved. If you were in danger by another villain, he would surrender himself willingly for your safety, but once you were away and safe, he would activate his quirk and kill off the stupid villains that thought they could contain him. He’s your hero basically. He wants you to protect him by just being there for him and being an outlet for his stress and pain. He wants you to just reassure him he can make this dream come true no matter what, and that even if he’s alone, you’re right there beside him. It’s all he ever wanted. Was to be loved.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) doesn’t really take you on dates, doesn’t remember anniversaries, and doesn’t really care about the everyday tasks. If you tell him about an anniversary, he’ll just be a bit dumbfounded at how long you’d actually been dating. “That long? I’m surprised I haven’t killed ya yet. So loud and annoying.” The next day though when he forgot, he’ll bring you flowers he stole since you seemed down about it. Also Toga and Twice pestered him time get you something since he was being an ass.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) constant sex. It’s tiring, and honestly drains you, but it’s something he likes. You’ll have to put your foot down when it comes to standing up for what you don’t want. He’ll take it as a joke at first. He also never listens to you. If you tell him he’s beautiful and you love him, he will scoff and call you a fucking liar. Something else he does that annoys you is picking you up from work just to take you back to the league of villains headquarters to just chill with you. It’s sweet, both you always get these suspicious stares. One time, a hero recognized him and he had to flee and leave you by yourself in a bad part of town. You stayed where you were and he eventually came back to get you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He thinks he’s ugly. You heard from Twice that some wannabe villains called him disgusting, and a freak, and that his disgusting face made them wanna throw up. In the end Dabi incinerated them. He could care less, but you know that there’s something he’s hiding behind those surgical staples and black hair. One time to make him feel better, you put heavy make up on him. He didn’t like it, and neither did you. He was surprised you didn’t like it, but it made him happy you loved his appearance despite his scarred up body.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) not really. Having you is like having a favorite shirt, you’ll always wanna wear it and treasure it forever since it’s your favorite. He doesn’t need a shirt to live though. He enjoys your company, and can talk to you about anything but chooses not to. He would definitely miss you. The league would have to deal with his extra grumpy attitude if you were ever to disappear. It’d be very difficult to find someone to put up with his bullshit like you do.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) he secretly wants you to become a villain with him. He wants you to come on missions with him and have his back the whole time. He’ll protect you don’t worry, but his main concern is you being captured by heroes. They’re sneaky sometimes, and he’d be damned if he let one of them take you. He would have a lot of fun with you. If you were to become a villain. His favorite thing with you would be to attack heroes on patrols and taunt them. Also go to malls and steal things. He likes being sneaky with you too. He’d be proud.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) he wouldn’t want a partner trying to change him. He ain’t gonna change for nobody. Not even you. So if you get in a relationship with Dabi, you’ll have to love him for who he is. He doesn’t want someone who disagrees strongly with his dream. He hates heroes, obviously. He hates your co-workers. He hates how sweet you are but still love him. He hates how he feels for you and how you make him slightly weaker. But that just means he loves you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) one of the worst things you have to deal with is how much he holds you in his sleep. His arms will be tightly around your waist or shoulders while you sleep so you can’t get up at all. One time you had to pee so bad you almost did it right there on the bed. If you hadn’t yelled right in his face and squirmed like a worm then you surely would’ve busted your bladder. He also is such a heavy sleeper. The end of the world could be happening and he’d sleep right through it. One thing that wakes him up immediately you’ve learned is that the staples under his eyes are extremely sensitive, and if you touch them, he’ll wake up immediately and become irritated.

[uswnt-owns-this-homo]

Let a Bitch Hit You- Julie Ertz x Reader

     AN:  Here’s my attempt at a protective JJ, hope I did it justice!

TW: Homophobia, mentions of drugs/alcohol, cursing of course, homophobic slurs and language

You take a deep breath as the ref blows the starting whistle, the Courage kicking the ball back to their defense, signalling the start of the game. You try to follow the ball as much as possible, taking care to stay in position and wait for opportunities and passes to come your way. You can’t help but to think of the circumstances as your teammate, and long term girlfriend, Julie Johnson, gets the ball, and passes it quickly, opening up space and helping the Red Star’s attack. 

      The significance of the game is not lost on you, your first one against your prior team. Jaelene Hinkle, one of the most openly homophobic people in the league, had pushed you towards your transfer, though you and Julie were already discussing a request at a later time. After her and Ashlyn’s epic twitter battle, Jaelene had lashed out slightly, demanding that you, as the “resident queer on the team’’, get dressed for games and practices in a different area, so that she “could change without being leered at”. 

      The rest of the team, minus your national teammates, had just let her go along with it, not defending you or telling her she was wrong. This, along with direct statements to you about your sexuality, including, but not limited to: constantly telling you you’re going to hell and sinning, pelting balls at you during practice, and, during team bonding events, conveniently forgetting to invite you, leaving you disconnected with the rest of the team, had led to the situation at hand.

      Your former teammates, bar the national team members, attack you mercilessly. They go for cheap moves, like holding your jersey during corner kicks, and performing late slide tackles, obviously targeting your notoriously weak ankles and knees. Throughout the game, Julie’s frown has become more prominent, her play more sharp, focused on getting the win over the people, or more accurately, the person, who contributed to her girlfriend's small fall down the rabbit hole.

       Instead of discussing the transfer, and the events behind it, with a professional, you had turned to alcohol, and over the counter medications, drinking booze and then taking benadryl, or cough syrup, and sleeping for days. You had kept up your facade of your usual happy, energized, rival to Sonnett in memes personality, up until you had moved in with Julie in Chicago. She had quickly noticed your actions, taking count of the vodka and medicine bottles, and had pushed you to see a therapist, resulting in your sobriety of now 4 months. 

      Hinkle makes the mistake of going in for a late slide tackle, clipping your already sore ankle. You turn to her and she sneers, winking at you. You slowly get up, rolling your eyes as the ref allows play to continue.

      Julie has been slightly more aggressive when facing Hinkle, and some people have noticed, mainly you, and of course the target herself, especially after a particularly hard run in was made for the ball.

“Hey, Johnson, how about you clean up your play? This is the third time you’ve shoved me, getting sloppy there, homo?”

      The look on your girlfriend’s face says it all, and all you can do is run to put a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep her from retaliating.

“Aw, look, dyke is trying to stop big bad Julie from starting something she can’t finish. How’s the cough syrup binge going, Y/N? Still sober, or have you fucked that up as well?”

      You just blankly stare at her, feeling old urges resurface, trying to stay in the present, as well as keep Julie from getting carded.

“You know, I think you transferred because you know I’m right, and you can’t face the fact that you sin everyday, and don’t like that your sickness is brought to light, isn’t that right, Y/N?”

      Julie shakes you off, stomping forward and shoving Hinkle, causing you to follow, holding her back slightly, your team, and the opposition coming together in a large huddle, Alyssa grabbing Julie and holding her back..

“Alyssa, please. No, Y/N, she can’t talk to you like that! I mean, the league has done jack shit to her for harassing you, or for poor sportsmanship, or any of the other numerous things she’s done. Jesus, you tried to kill yourself! And what does she get? Absolutely nothing!”

Jaelene seems to falter for a moment, before her face turns in a sneer.

“Poor Y/N, can’t take any criticism, what’d you do, try to get away from it?”

      Julie finally breaks out of your and Alyasa’s grip, lunging at Hinkle, landing a solid punch to her jaw. The ref comes running, putting her hands on both players. Julie is still attempting to reach Hinkle, and laughs at the red card she’s shown.

“Oh yeah, fucking let the one who’s caused severe emotional and mental harm to my girlfriend get off scott free!”

Coach calls her over and she rolls her eyes, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, glaring at Hinkle when she fake gags. 

You’ve had enough, officially snapped, gone off the metaphorical rails of tolerance of douchbaggery.

“You know, you can insult me, make me want to cease living, but you have no right to be disgusted. Any god I know would be appalled at how you’ve treated my community, and I know you don’t go to heaven just on the merit of being a homophobic christian. Ash was right, you have no place on the national team… You wouldn’t fit,”

      You shove her backwards, taking your yellow card with a grin. Play resumes relatively quickly, and your whole team goes forward into the second half with a renewed passion, compensating for Julie’s red. You lose yourself in the game, giving it your absolute all, and laying yourself out on every possible play.  You manage to score 3 goals, one which could have been defended by Hinkle. 

      The whistle blows and your team rushes you, picking you up, hugging you, and cheering. You all head back to the locker room and you spot Julie, staring at her phone, a blank stare on her face. You sit beside her, putting your arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

“Thank you, so much. For defending me, for fighting for me, even though I really missed my favorite ball feeder,”

Julie cracks a smile and shrugs.

      You pull her in for a short kiss, trying to  convey all of your love for her. You all walk out of the locker room, bags and bus buddies in tow. Julie holds your hand as you walk to the bus, rubbing a thumb over it as you stare blankly ahead of you, thinking back on your whole experience with Jaelene. Julie wraps her arms around you as you both get onto the bus, finding your usual seat beside Alyssa, who smiles worriedly at you. You take a deep breath and look at Julie.

“I just, I thought transferring would give me peace, but she’s still there, the thoughts, they’re still there. Just. Why is it such a big deal to her? I’m just living my life, trying to be happy, and she constantly made me feel, hell, sometimes still makes me feel, worthless, and I know therapy helped, but still, sometimes, like tonight’s game, brings it all back,”

      Julie gets a look on her face, as does Uncle Naeher. They look at each other and nod slightly, brows furrowed.

“Come on Alyssa, Y/N, sit here, we’ll be back in a second,”

You curl up in the seat, listening to Julie talk to Alyssa’s seat mate, and one of your friends on the team, Sam Kerr.

“Look, me and Alyssa have to go do something, we’ll catch an Uber to our place afterwards, could you do me a huge solid, look after Y/N for me? Make sure she stays talking, doesn’t zone out too much?”

Sam nods and Julie sighs, turns to you, and kisses you on the forehead.

Okay, love, I’m gonna go, sort things out.  I’ll be back in a bit, before you go to bed, okay?”

You numbly nod, heart racing.

      She quickly turns to Sam, nods, and goes to get off the not yet started bus. Coach looks at her and Alyssa, and they talk for a few seconds before he waves them on, glancing back at you. Sam moves to sit beside you, and you curl up to her side, silently wishing it was Julie.

      You’ve made it back to the hotel, eyes red from your crying on the way back. You carry your bag to your room, Sam walking you to it and giving you a hug as you walk inside. You put your things down, taking care to organize it so you don’t have to deal with it later. You turn the coffee maker on, set it to hot water, and start to run it, putting a tea bag in and leaving it to brew while you shower. You get your sweats and long sleeve t-shirt, taking out your toiletries and turning the water on cold, hoping the chill will help pull you out of your funk. You hop in and sit under the water, shivering slightly, but unwilling to turn it warmer. 

      You must sit there for an hour, slowly numbing even more from the cold water. You vaguely hear the room’s door open, Julie setting down her bag and putting her keys on the desk.

“Y/N? Babe?”

      You want to turn your head, say something, go lay and curl up in your girlfriend’s arms, let her reassure you, but the motivation doesn’t come. So, you sit and numbly watch, shivering and lips turning blue, as Julie comes in the bathroom, looks to you, and immediately rushes into the shower, clothes on and forehead cut, eye black.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here, stayed with you, I just. She did this to you, without really trying, I couldn’t just let that happen,”

      You just shrug and hug her, trying to get warm, regretting your tactic for pulling yourself out of your mind.

“Okay, we need to get you warm. I saw your tea, you can have that, and then we can lay down and watch that documentary you heard about from Rose?”

      You nod, watching her turn water to warm, and strip, leaving her soaked clothes on the bathroom floor. Julie slowly washes your hair, conditions it, and takes a cloth to your slowly warming body, every touch and prod gentle and full of love. She keeps you under the warm spray for a while, holding you and rocking slightly.

“Okay, now which one of my hoodies do you want? We have the Santa Clara U or the Red Stars one, and some sweats, and some fuzzy socks are in your near future,”

You smile.

“You wore the Red Stars one more recently, so that one,”

A small blush runs across her cheeks, her usual confident demeanour gone.

“I’ll see what I can do, charmer. Ready to get out, get bundled, and get cuddled?”

She goes about shutting off the water, looking down to nod at you, and then stands up, you still cradled to her chest. You have a moment of realization.

“If I ask nicely, will you avoid putting clothing on?”

She sputters and turns tomato red.

“I- what? No, clothes are going on so I can properly warm you up, no more sly passes! I’m trying to take care of you, short stuff,”

You glower, sigh, and wrap your arms around her neck, waiting for her to put you down.

“Okay, look, tonight may have gotten to me, just a bit, but even all wacked out, I know somethings wrong. What happened to your face, and where’s Uncle?”

She sighs and starts to towel you off.

“Fine, The Giant and I went to have a chat with Hinkle, and I had her record it. I simply started talking with Hinkle, trying to reason and help her to understand things a little better, and then she hit me, and I didn’t hit back, and then she hit me some more,so now we’re hoping that we can send this to the big people in charge and maybe she’ll get suspended or in trouble or something. Alyssa is back with Sammy trying to stay away from conflict for the rest of her life. She did tell me to tell you to come down tomorrow if you needed some tips for dealing with the whole situation. Honestly think it’s the most she’s spoken this season,”

      You hug her and wrap the towel around her shoulders before smacking her gently in the leg.

“No more inciting violence in the hopes that you fuck with people who have ‘wronged me’ or whatever it is you said that one time, got it? Also, you need ice, but I will say I love a girl with a black eye,”

      You walk off into the main part of the room, ruffling through Julie’s bag to find her sweatshirt, lifting it over your head with a triumphant croon.

“Aw yeah, the epic girlfriend hoodie, let’s go!”

      Julie chuckles and walks out, coming up behind you and grabbing her SCU hoodie, pulling it on and winking.

“So that next time you want a sweatshirt, you can have a freshly me scented one,”

      You roll your eyes and grab a pair of training shorts, pulling them on and grabbing your tea, laying back carefully on the bed.

“Okay, coral documentary, snuggles, and then sleep,”

      Julie nods and gets in bed, pulling you close and grabbing the laptop beside the bed and opening up Netflix.

“Sounds like a pretty amazing night to me, shorty, let’s watch us some ocean stuff,”

     Needless to say you’re crying by the end of the documentary. Julie jerks awake, her soft snoring abruptly ceasing.

“What? What happened, who hurt you, I’ll let em’ punch me, get their ass suuspeendedd,”

      You chuckle, still crying slightly.

“Nobody, babe, just, he loves coral! And it’s disappearing, and he’s sad and all emotional and now I’m all emotional!”

      You sniff a few times and shut the computer, quickly putting it on the bedside table.

“Please don’t let anyone hit you again, Juls, pretty please,”

      She sleepily grunts and mumbles.

“Man, sometimes you just let a bitch hit you, ya’ know. Gotta get the w somehow, cause I sure didn’t get it during the game,”

      You laugh and wrap her arms tighter around you, knowing it’s going to be a bit of a long road ahead, but certain that the whole situation will pan out, and that you have Julie by your side through all of it.

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: Request from Anon- “ could you write one where the reader is a rock singer and they and mcr are on warped tour together, and they both lowkey like each other but think they’re both out of each other’s league, and find out that they’re both secretly into nerdy stuff + maybe getting together? thank you so much xxx”

AN: This is a multi-part series--I couldn’t help myself! Also, I based this fic around something Gerard said in a Rolling Stone interview:

Hope its ok Anon! enjoy!

You had dreamed of this moment since you first picked up a guitar. Back then it felt like an impossible fantasy, being on stage with your band, playing in front of a crowd of screaming fans; which is why it felt so surreal when your manager Tim told you that your band, The Violent Delights, had booked Warped Tour.

"June 18th," he told you with a satisfied grin, "you're in for the long haul, kids."

Your band-mates let out a collective shriek of joy, while you planted a grateful kiss on Tim's cheek.

"You're an OK manager, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, dramatically wiping his cheek where your lips had been. "Now you guys better get practicing. This is a good opportunity to really get your name out there. Plus you got some real popular acts to compete with."

Your interest was peaked. "Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Off the top of my head? Fall Out Boy, Dropkick Murphys, and I think a band called My Chemical Romance."

"Oh shit, My Chem?" your bassist, Gavin, piped up excitedly. "That's the band I'm always trying to get Y/N to listen to."

"I'll have to finally borrow their last album," you replied, "gotta scope out the competition after all." Gavin rolled his eyes while you laughed.

Your manager got serious. "It's three months on the road, and its gonna take a lot of energy and hard work. Quite frankly, it ain't glamorous."

"Tim, when have we ever been glamorous? I wouldn't care if it were a 12 month tour," you declared, "I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world." Liz, your drummer, nodded in agreement beside you.

"You might be singing a different tune when you haven't had a shower in three days."

"As long as I'm singing it in front of an audience, we'll be fine."

* * *

Back at your apartment you marked June 18th on your calendar with a star, feeling invigorated with excitement all over again. This was it, you thought, the next level for our band. You were determined to give it your very best, outperforming every other band there.

After all, you had worked so hard to get to this point. Starting in friend's basements and tiny cafes, the band had slowly built up a sizable following of loyal fans. You were no longer the opening act, drawing sell out crowds more often than not. You made a promise to yourself that the band wasn't going to lose this momentum. There would be no distractions for you on this tour, just hard work and the thrill of performing. That meant no parties, and absolutely no boys. You weren't ready for another relationship, you told yourself, especially since the last one ended in disaster.

Yes, this was the moment the band had been waiting for. You let the warm excitement that this knowledge brought envelope you, and you lay your head down on your pillow, falling asleep to fantasies of what lay ahead.

* * *

Its a long road from Maryland to Ohio. Columbus was the first stop of the tour, which meant your band had 6 and a half hours to go over the set-list, make adjustments  discuss their hopes and fears for the three month experience. Gavin gave you a few CDs to listen too, including My Chemical Romance's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.  You had heard their first album ages ago and enjoyed it, but there was something incandescent to the music you were hearing now. It stirred a whirlwind of heavy emotion, and you were enthralled from beginning to end. You made a mental note to see them perform at Warped as soon as possible.

When your bus arrived at its destination, you felt the unwelcome buzz of nerves building in your stomach. This was real, you thought, this was happening. You were used to performing at this point, but it was the amount of people you'd be performing for that was nerve-wracking. Not to mention the fellow artists who may be watching and judging your sound. You breathed deep and tried to push past the nervous thoughts that hummed incessantly around your head like insects.

Your band-mates were buzzing about with excitement, but you needed to distract yourself. Fresh air always helped settle you, so you grabbed your shoes and decided to go for a walk around the venue.

It looked almost like a circus with all the trailers and tents that had quickly populated the surrounding area. Merch stands and catering tents were being organizes as dozens upon dozens of vans and trailers pulled in. There were already a few fans camped outside of the chain-link fence that surrounded the area, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of their favorite artists.

You kept wandering, and you saw that a band was being interviewed in the media tent. There were five of them, each holding a microphone; but one member, a dark haired boy, was doing most of the talking. He was cute, you thought, and your stomach did little flips watching him respond to the questions that were being asked.

You watched a little bit longer from a distance, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Gavin and Liz, who had been doing a bit of exploring as well.

"Hey, there you are! I was talking to a few people by the catering tent. They said some bands are having a party on their buses later tonight, we should check it out." Gavin informed you excitedly.

You hesitated. No parties. "I dunno, I want us to be in good condition to perform tomorrow."

Liz chimed in. "All work and no play, Y/N. C'mon, it'll be a great chance to make some connections with other bands."

"If you don't come with us," Gavin pronounced dramatically, "we'll be far too devastated to perform tomorrow." His hand went to his forehead, as though he was about to faint.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Pretty please?" Liz stuck her lower lip out pathetically.

"With sugar on top?" Gavin added.

You glanced at the black haired boy in the distance. Maybe he'd be there, a small voice in your head piped up.

"Ugh Fine! But I'll only stay for a little bit."

Satisfied, the pair stopped harassing you, and left you to continue wandering, promising to meet up with them later.

* * *

People spilled out from open trailers as music blared from an unknown source in the background. Some were already far gone, stumbling from place to place, or lying on the ground blacked out.

You followed Gavin inside one of the trailers. You watched as he interacted with the strangers inside with ease, a trait you envied. He managed to find you both drinks, and you grabbed the mystery beverage, sculling it in hopes that it would numb your nervousness. You may have been a great performer onstage, but offstage it was easy for your social anxiety to take the wheel.

Gavin began to walk away, ignoring your whispered pleas not to leave you. Fuck. It always felt awkward to not know anyone at a party. You clutched your red cup like a life jacket keeping you afloat in a sea of drunken strangers.

A man approached you out of nowhere, the smell of alcohol emanating from every pore on his body.

"You look lonely." He leered at you expectantly.

"Then it seems like you need glasses. I'm just fine on my own."

He laughed. "Ooo! I like you. You've got spunk. Name's Brent, guitarist from Midnite Heist."

"Can't say I've heard of you guys."

Brent was either oblivious to your indifference, or just chose to ignore it. "So how'd you end up at this party?"

"I'm in a band on the tour too. Lead singer actually."

"No way! That's awesome, we need more talented eye candy on this tour."

You screamed internally while he droned on, tuning him out as you continued to sip from your fast emptying cup.

You scanned the room, watching people laugh and dance. Your stomach suddenly flipped again as you noticed the black haired boy from this afternoon, solemn faced and quiet, silently nursing a diet coke in his hands. He was clearly not having a good time. The guitarist who had been talking you up soon saw you looking at the sullen figure and turned his attention towards him, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Gerard fucking Way!" he bellowed, carelessly sloshing his drink as he waved him over, causing a stream of alcohol to fall to the floor below.

Gerard seemed to hesitate before walking over. "It's been awhile man," he said softly. His eyes, a warm hazel, flicked to you repeatedly as he spoke. "you here for the whole tour this time?"

Brent laughed, his sobriety dangling by a thread.  "Yeah, but still not up on the main stage, unlike you big-shots." he said, punching Gerard in the arm. Gerard offered a crooked smirk in return, his patience already wearing thin. Brent nudged you in the arm. "This is Y/N, her band is new to Warped. I told her I'd show her the ropes." He grinned at you. Ugh.

Gerard seemed to sense your discomfort. "Welcome, nice to see a new face around."

Brent interrupted before you could respond. "How come you're wasting time with a coke? I would've expected you to be the first one wasted here."

Gerard's jaw clenched, and you cringed internally at the sheer awkwardness of the encounter. "I'm sober now," he informed Brent, "I don't touch that shit anymore."

Brent laughed dismissively. "Dude, you?  Do you even remember the last Warped tour? I'll give it 2 days before you're lying face down in the bushes again." he laughed as if he had just said something hilarious.

You were livid, and Gerard was on edge. You decided to step in when you noticed his knuckles turn white from clenching his coke can.

You moved slightly, ready to get between them. "Hey you know what? I'd really love a coke right now too. Mind showing me where they are?" you looked pleadingly at Gerard. He took the hint.

"Follow me."

You gave a curt wave to Brent, who looked on in confusion before continuing his drinking binge.

You stepped outside, and the sounds from the party behind you became a faint, thumping buzz in the background. You were both silent for a moment before you decided to break the ice.

"So that guy was a dick."

Gerard's scowl turned into a thin, lopsided smirk. Your heart melted a bit. "Yeah. I just realized some of these people are only tolerable when I'm drunk."

Stop. Move away. You don't need a distraction like this. You tried to scold yourself but words kept escaping from your lips, prolonging the encounter.

"This is my first time doing Warped Tour, but I'm assuming these parties are pretty much never-ending?"

Gerard pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Oh yeah, its every night for some of these bands. You're in for an interesting experience." You looked at him for a moment, perhaps for a bit too long. You had never seen anyone look so beautiful while surrounded by clouds of smoke.

"Yoohoooo! Y/N!" you heard the hollering of a clearly tipsy Gavin call from the doorway of the next trailer. "Where'd you go? The night is young! Get back here!"

You sighed. "That's my cue. Well actually that's my bassist, but he'll never let me live it down if I don't go back in there."

Gerard turned his head to the side and exhaled. "Catch you around. Next time you need rescuing from a douche-bag just light the bat signal."

You gave him a soft smile, forcing yourself to turn away and walk back to the trailer. As you did, you whispered aloud to yourself as a reminder:

"No distractions. No boys."

[go-redgirl]

Ellen DeGeneres Loses 1 Million Viewers After Apologies for Toxic Workplace

When Ellen DeGeneres returned from a summer hiatus to open the 18th season of her daytime talk show in September, she came armed with an apology. “I learned that things happen here that never should have happened,” she said. “I take that very seriously. And I want to say I am so sorry to the people who were affected.” Those remarks came in the wake of reports of workplace misconduct at “The Ellen DeGeneres Show.”

Viewers tuned in for the apology: This year’s season opener had the highest ratings for an “Ellen” premiere in four years. And then they tuned out. “Ellen” has lost more than a million viewers since September, according to the research firm Nielsen, averaging 1.5 million viewers over the last six months, down from 2.6 million in the same period last year.

The decline has come at a time when workplace behavior, in Hollywood and elsewhere, has come under intense scrutiny against a backdrop of protest and social change. It is a startling setback for one of daytime television’s most successful franchises and for Ms. DeGeneres, who was at the forefront of an earlier cultural shift when, as the star of a prime-time network sitcom in the 1990s, she announced that she is gay.

The show’s loss of more than a million viewers translates to a 43 percent decline, representing a steeper drop than any of its competitors. This TV season, “Ellen,” the winner of dozens of Emmys since its start in 2003, is no longer in the same league as traditional rivals like “Dr. Phil” (3.1 million) and “Live: With Kelly and Ryan” (2.7 million). Now it finds itself uncomfortably close to shows hosted by Maury Povich (1.4 million), Kelly Clarkson (1.3 million), Rachael Ray (1.2 million), Tamron Hall (1.1 million) and Jerry Springer’s former security guard Steve Wilkos (1.1 million).

The loss of viewers includes a 38 percent decline in her core audience, adult women under 54, according to Nielsen. And it appears to have put a dent in the show’s ad revenue. From September to January of the 2019-20 season, “Ellen” brought in $131 million from advertisers, according to the research firm Kantar. That has fallen to $105 million for the same period in 2020-21, a drop of about 20 percent.

Ms. DeGeneres, 63, has publicly mused on the possibility of leaving the show in recent years, and the spotlight on her workplace troubles has added to the questions about her future. Her talk-show contract runs through next year. Warner Bros., the division of AT&T’s WarnerMedia that produces “Ellen,” confirmed that the show would return for a 19th season in September, after her usual summer hiatus. A spokeswoman for Ms. DeGeneres declined to comment when asked if the 2021-22 television season would be her last.

“‘The Ellen DeGeneres Show’ remains one of the top three highest-rated syndicated talk shows this season,” David McGuire, an executive vice president of programming at Telepictures, a Warner Bros. subsidiary, said in a statement. He suggested other reasons for the decline, like changing viewing habits during the pandemic.

“While broadcast is down across the board and Covid has been challenging for production, we are looking forward to bringing back our live audiences and a 19th season filled with all of the hilarious and heartwarming moments that have made ‘Ellen’ one of the longest running and most successful talk shows in history,” he added.

Whether or not the next season of “Ellen” is its last, WarnerMedia and Ms. DeGeneres are together for the long haul. In 2019, the company made a deal with her to produce four programs for its HBO Max streaming platform, including a home-design challenge series; a dating show; an animated show, “Little Ellen”; and a documentary series on inventors made in conjunction with the Albert Einstein estate. (In another deal, she recently signed a multiyear pact with Discovery to produce natural history documentaries and series.)

Public perception of Ms. DeGeneres started to change in July when BuzzFeed reported that several of the show’s former and current staff members said they had confronted “racism, fear and intimidation” on the set. Several staff members also said producers had sexually harassed them. Warner Bros. investigated the workplace and found “deficiencies.” Three high-level producers were fired, including Ed Glavin, an executive producer; Jonathan Norman, a co-executive producer; and Kevin Leman, the head writer. Ms. DeGeneres apologized to her staff before addressing her viewers in September.

Some observers believe the accusations may have weakened Ms. DeGeneres’s relationship with her audience. The host built her show as an oasis from the outside world, a place of goofy dancing, light jokes, cash giveaways to surprised audience members and high-wattage celebrity guests. Several years ago, she adopted “be kind” as her motto, in response to the suicide of Tyler Clementi, a gay college student who took his own life after being bullied.

“Her brand is not just being fairly nice — it is ‘Be Kind,’” said Stephen Galloway, the dean of Chapman University’s Dodge College of film and media arts. “She’s chosen two words to stamp herself. You cannot have hypocrisy better defined than when you’ve chosen those two words to define yourself and everyone is seeing the opposite is true inside your show.

“The reason the incident with the producers was such a difficult and perilous moment is it’s the first time where something surfaced to indicate that a family — Ellen’s own professional family — was dysfunctional,” he continued.

Ms. DeGeneres referred to her motto in her on-air apology. “Being known as the Be Kind Lady is a tricky position to be in,” she said. “So let me give you some advice. If anyone is thinking of changing their title or giving yourself a nickname, do not go with the Be Kind Lady.” She added that she was indeed the cheerful person she appeared to be on television, but was also someone who experienced moments of sadness, anxiety and impatience.

In addition to her daytime show, Ms. DeGeneres is also a prime-time star for NBC — and her show for that network, “Ellen’s Game of Games,” also a Warner production, has lost 32 percent of its viewers this season, as well as 35 percent in the adult demographic important to advertisers.

Even with the complications affecting all talk shows during the pandemic, “Ellen,” with its loss of 43 percent of its audience, has suffered a steeper decline than its rivals. “Dr. Phil” is down 22 percent, and “The Kelly Clarkson” show has lost 26 percent of its viewers. Kelly Ripa and Ryan Seacrest’s show has just lost 3 percent, and “Tamron Hall” is down 9 percent.

Ms. DeGeneres beat the odds to make her show a success. There is a television graveyard filled with the comics, actors, anchors and reality stars who have taken a crack at syndicated talk shows only to be yanked off the air because of low ratings. And when “Ellen” premiered, she also had to overcome the hesitancy of affiliate managers who thought an openly gay person could not connect with the women who make up most of the daytime audience. Her quick wit and approachable manner earned her millions of fans and ultimately a plum late-afternoon slot in most markets. As recently as a few years ago, the show was drawing roughly three million viewers an episode.

As Ms. DeGeneres fights through a loss in popularity, she has turned to celebrity friends to help her make the case that there is not much difference between the on-camera Ellen and the real Ellen. When Michelle Obama was a virtual guest last week, she spoke warmly about the time she went to Ms. DeGeneres’s house and they played a piano duet together. A video clip of the pair at the piano was shown.

Another recent guest, Jennifer Garner, also appearing remotely, raced to her hotel room balcony at the host’s request to tell passers-by how much she adored Ms. DeGeneres. “I love her!” Ms. Garner shouted. “She’s kind! She’s a humanitarian! She loves animals!”

By John Koblin

The post Ellen DeGeneres Loses 1 Million Viewers After Apologies for Toxic Workplace appeared first on New York Times.

[jhopejoon]

Affinity + K. Namjoon

❦ → [pairing]: kim namjoon x reader

❦ → [genre] : good ol’ fluff, but it gets a bit frisky hehe 

❦ → [warnings] : n/a

❦ → [this is a respost from my main blog uwu]

Lazily, you twirled the plastic straw in your daiquiri- the substance was practically watered down now due to you neglecting it. Sighing, you rested your hand in your palm as you looked at the guests mingling around the wedding reception. Everyone was already a bit tipsy- you could hear your aunt loudly talking over the music. The autumn air blew a bit, making the lace of your dress swish by your ankles.

“Sweetie, why don’t you come to the photo booth and take some pictures?” you laughed at your mother’s wine drunk state, as she leaned into you. You could smell the pungent odor of the overly expensive alcohol linger on her breath.

“Nah, mom maybe later. I already went twice with Yoongi and Guk.” you sighed, referring to your Older Brother and Cousin. Your mom hummed behind you leaning into kiss your cheek.

“Okay dear,” she sing-songed as she sauntered away, stumbling slightly in the grass. You wiped away the residue of lip gloss that was left on your cheek, and groaned a bit. Pulling out your phone from your clutch the time read 5:53 pm.

I’ll go back to the room at 6. You thought to yourself as you downed the last of your drink.

“Whoa there sis, don’t you think it’s a bit early to be getting drunk?” a deep voice chuckled behind you. Grunting, you put the glass down on the table a bit hard.

“Yoongi, if you don’t shut the fu-,” Yoongi squished your cheeks with his hands making your mouth form the resemblance of a fish. He hummed and grinned at you, the bitch was mocking you.

“Now now,” the platinum blonde chided, releasing your cheeks and sitting back into the chair, “I know damn well, you have been eyeing Namjoon like you want to choke on his big, thick coc-”

“Yoongi!” you shouted at him, cheeks blazing with pink. He leaned back in his seat, circling the rim of his wine glass grinning at you. He clinked his gaudy rings along the glass and ‘tsked’ at you. Scowling at him you stuffed your face with the rolls that were in the basket on the table.

“__, it’s okay you know,” Yoongi said looking at you with teasing eyes. You glared at him through puffed cheeks filled with fluffy dough, swallowing a bit roughly before speaking.

“It’s not  mom and dad are practically begging me to be in a relationship. Its harassment,” you whined to him picking at pearls that laced the linen table cloth. Yoongi eyed you, and you knew why. It’s not that your older brother pitied you, he just knows that you’ve always been insecure when it came to relationships.

“Sis, I don’t know why you’re scared to date you aren’t that ugly-,’ he yawned bringing the wine glass to his mouth. You threw a half eaten roll at him as he brought the glass down from his mouth. He caught it with ease, “Thanks I was getting hungry,” he winked at you, shoving the entire roll in his mouth.

“Don’t be a dick,” you hissed stealing his wine glass and taking a sip. He barked a laugh, the silver in his ears tinked together softly. He chewed the roll in his mouth about to steal his glass back when someone interrupted you.

“Min Yoongi! Can you please stop harassing your sister or I will personally chop your dick off!” You looked behind you to see your best friend, Jess, in all white. She held a wine glass in her manicured fingers, her wedding band tinking against the glass as she slapped Yoongi on the head with her shawl.

“Woman! Stop hitting me- Ow!” Jess, continued her assault as you sat there and continued to drink.

“Hyung, what did you do for my wife to hate you?”  Your cousin Jungkook laughed, placing his hands on the back of your chair up behind you. He grinned at you and leaned down to peck your forehead. You swatted him away as you downed Yoongi’s wine.

“Hey, Jess, darling, can you please not assault my best friend?” Jungkook said after taking a swig out of his beer bottle. Jess looked up from hitting Yoongi, rolling her eyes she stopped and shuffled over to you. Yoongi rubbed his head whispering curses beneath his breath.

“__! As much as I hate to agree with your idiotic brother, he’s right. You have been looking at Namjoon for awhile now.” Your best friend teased, as she sat down in the chair on your left.

Wincing upon hearing his name again you sighed. You looked up discreetly to see Namjoon laughing with some of the guests. Ironically enough- you were both part of Jess and Jungkook’s wedding party. You two even walked down the aisle together. But, you never had the guts to ask him out or anything. Thinking that he was way out of your league. His dark brown hair looked soft, and the richness of his tan skin made him stand out in his grey tux. The silver hoops moved with his head as he laughed- all dimples and smiles.

“Jess you do know I am, me, and Namjoon is.. Namjoon?” you spoke with wide eyes leaning towards your friend. Jess rolled her eyes and looked at Jungkook and Yoongi. Looking at them as if she was saying, “help me out you dumbasses.”

“Uhhh,” Yoongi crooned, as he swatted Jungkook on the back of the head making him choke on the beer he swallowed.

“Wow! Would you look at that duck, it’s such a nice color! Guk, let’s go look at it!” Yoongi said dragging the younger man by the collar of his tux. Jungkook whined, but complied as he was dragged away.

“Idiots,” Jess mumbled into her wine glass. You snorted leaning back into your chair.

“Tell me about it,” you said rolling your eyes. Jess eyed you from the rim of her glass, bringing it down from her mouth she was quiet for a second.

“__, not to be that person, but Joon has been eyeing you since the ceremony. Also he has asked me about you a few times.” Jess said smirking at you while smoothing out the lace in her wedding dress. You looked down at your manicured nails and sighed.

“I think he’s cute and I want to get to know him, but like I said he’s Namjoon and I’m-” Jess squished your cheeks in the same manor Yoongi did.

“Hey, stop it you brat, Namjoon would be an idiot if he didn’t ask you out.” Jess said sincerely, you looked her in the eye and rolled your eyes once again.

“I bon’t bow,” you attempted to say through puckered lips. Jess grinned at you and released your cheeks.

“You won’t know until you try, and you could either find out and something good happens- or never find out and never know, and in this case I don’t think finding out could be a bad thing,” she said taking your hand in hers.

A small ‘tch’ came out of your mouth, the words of advice given from her- were what your uncle always told you. She patted your hand and stood up, the dress swishing by her ankles. Winking at you she sauntered away, and leaning in to give your cheek a quick peck.

You tapped your nails on the table inquisitively, and thought to yourself as you eyed Namjoon again.

I hope you’re right Jess. 

A few hours passed and you still haven’t talked to Namjoon-- besides the few glances that you stole from each other when one wasn’t looking. The reception now moved inside the quaint pub due to the autumn weather dropping the temperatures, also being close to the ocean. Sighing for what seemed the one hundredth time, you looked at the time once again. 7:32 pm. You finished your water and got up from the secluded table to go tell Yoongi you were leaving.

As you tried to maneuver your way through the drunk guests, your dress caught under someone’s shoe causing you to stumble forward. Squeaking as you tried to move a bit to prevent yourself from toppling onto people you already ran into a firm chest. Large hands caught your waist, as you stumbled forward into their grasp.

“I am so sorr-,” Your words came out in a garbled mess as you looked up at your savior. Oh fuck. Namjoon grinned from above you, his dimples more prominent now that you were up close. Your mouth was slightly parted resembling a dead fish, at least that’s what Yoongi said.

“It’s all good love, are you alright?” His voice was rich, as if someone was dragging their body through honey. You blinked up at him, cheeks probably the same shade as Jungkook’s hair.

“I-I um,” Namjoon chuckled as he pulled you closer to him to prevent you from stumbling into anyone else. Large palm sliding against your bare back- curse Jess for making you, the maid of honor, wear a backless dress. You could feel the coolness of his rings glide up your back, to rest right above the swell of your butt.

“I am so sorry Namjoon,” you spoke without hesitating for once. Your hands were on his chest as you tried to maintain eye contact. His deep brown eyes looked so warm and inviting. His laugh was deep, he took a hand away from your waist and gestured you to the bar. He guided you through the sweaty bodies -- a palm placed over your bare back. Your cheeks were ablaze as you made eye contact with Jess who lifted up a champagne glass as she mouthed, Cheers.

You were about to flip the bird, when Namjoon’s voice caught you out of your thoughts.

“Did you say something love?” Namjoon asked as you sat down on a cushioned stool. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, shaking your head furiously you closed your lips. You felt a bit awkward under his stare, the low bass of the music wasn’t helping much either. Looking up at him again he smiled at you and took a seat next to you, leaning his elbows behind him on the counter.

“Namjoon thank you for helping me, and I am also sorry-,” He turned his head to look at you -- his deep eyes melted into yours, as if he was saying it’s okay. You smiled at him, and turned your attention back towards the abundance of sweaty bodies dancing. After a few seconds Namjoon cleared his throat and began to stand up. You felt embarrassed that you weren’t able to talk to him without getting flustered -- and you thought he was leaving. About to get up and leave, Namjoon stood infront of you, a shy smile on his face as he held a hand out for you.

“Dance with me?” He asked with a hopeful voice. You parted your lips a bit, and smiled at him nodding. Pulling up the train of your dress, you placed your smaller hand in his warm palm as he guided you to the dance floor. A slower song began to play -- ironically. Veering a bit to the edge of the dance floor where less people were centered, he placed both his hands on your hips, surprising you a bit. Looking up at him, he had his full lip caught between his upper teeth. Cheeks burning - you placed your hands on his strong shoulders feeling the rigid muscles beneath his suit jacket. The music was loud, and made the blood in your ears thump.

Namjoon guided you through the beat, his palm sliding between the planes of your back, setting fire to the smooth surface. He kept eye contact with you as he pulled your body impossibly close to his firm body, your hips aligning slightly below his. Your hips hurt from the constant movements to keep up with the rhythm of the music. Resting his forehead against yours he licked his plush bottom lip as he swayed you from side to side.

Your breathing became erratic, as he slowly spun you so that your back was facing his- he guided his hands along the lace of your dress. You could feel his warm hands mingle with the coolness of his rings, as his hands settled on your hips and pulled you back to him. You gasped quietly and gripped his hands that held your waist.

You felt his mouth trail the side of your neck and up to your jawline, his plush lips were soft against your skin. Eyes widened you held your breath, as you melted into his touch. He hummed in your ear, as he continued to move you to the beat of the song.

“You know love,” he said in a low voice against the shell of your ear, “We did walk down the aisle together, so I have no idea why you are so shy.” Your breath hitched a bit you as you stuttered to find your words.

“I-I uh,” having no clue how to answer him, Namjoon chuckled and pulled away from your ear. Pulling you against him again, he pulled your hips side-to-side in a swaying motion, snaking his palm down the front of your stomach. You might as well just had sex with him right there. Tilting your head back on his chest, you got the courage to snake a hand up to his neck-- feeling his pulse and the slight stubble on his prominent jaw.

“__,” your ears perked up to the sound of Namjoon saying your name for the first time. Turning your head up to look at him, he smiled and spun you to face your body towards him. The dance floor was getting crowded -- noticing, Namjoon guided you outside to the deck of the pub.

The cool air nipped through the fabric of your dress- shivering, you pulled your hands to your arms as Namjoon and you walked along the cobblestone road. Namjoon stopped walking and removed his hand from your back, you stopped and turned around to look at him.

The full moon shone on his stature, illuminating the grin he gave you. You smiled at him, as you walked closer to him and unwrapped your hands from your body. Grabbing the lapels of his suit you pulled yourself on your tiptoes and pecked the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you for asking me to dance,” you murmured against his mouth. As you pulled back you could taste peppermint on your cupids bow, the smell of aftershave enveloped you. Looking up at him through your lashes, he gave you a toothy smile, his dimple winking at you. Taking a deep breath you smiled for what felt like the tenth time, shivering again you bowed a bit to him.

“Goodnight Joon,” you said quietly, looking at him one more time before stepping back to return to your room.

Before you could turn all the way around to leave, warm fingertips wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back.

“Wait.” Namjoon said a bit loudly. Startled, you looked back at him. Releasing your arm, he looked at you for a few seconds before he began to take off his suit jacket. Confused you stood there as the cool air nipped at your flushed cheeks.

“Take my jacket, you look cold,” Namjoon spoke as he came closer to you.

“Joon it’s okay-,” He shook his head as he threw the slate grey material over your shoulders, and adjusted it. The jacket swamped your slightly smaller figure, he held onto the sleeves and looked at you.

“Perfect.” he said lowly. You were sure, you could have passed out right there and then if it weren’t for Namjoon pressing his lips against yours.

Gasping a bit, he tested the waters by pecking your lips gently. His full lips were soft, and warm. He pecked you again, pulling your hips into his as you gripped his shoulders. Namjoon’s free hand cupped the back of your neck and twisted the curled hair at the nape. His thumb rubbed your pulse and over your jaw.

You mewled and let your body seep into his, he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth gently, making the skin pulse. You shuddered against his hold as he sneaked his tongue to probe at the roof of your mouth. Nipping and sucking the plush skin of your mouth, you tried to keep up but he was overwhelming, intoxicating.

He slowed the ministrations on your mouth, you whined. Pulling your bottom lip back once more, as he placed a final peck to your mouth. Breathing a bit heavy, Namjoon pulled away. The moon illuminated his flushed cheeks and swollen mouth. Forehead leaned against yours he breathed into your skin, as you tried to catch your breath.

“Goodnight love,” Namjoon whispered releasing you. Letting go of your body, he winked at you and walked back in the direction of his room. You stood there dumb-founded, and mouth tingling.

“What the..” you were confused as you sat down on the bench next to where you and Namjoon had your ‘moment’.

Pulling the jacket tighter to your body, you felt something crinkle in the inside pocket of the jacket. Furrowing your brows you stuck your fingers in the pocket and wriggled out a small piece of paper. In clean handwriting there was a note.

I’m gonna need that suit jacket back, love, in the meantime use it to keep you warm -- I’ll see you at brunch tomorrow, and hopefully after that as well. :)

xxx-xxx-xxxx (In case you miss me too much before tomorrow)

K.N xx

You laughed to yourself, holding the paper in your palms.

“Kim Namjoon,” you whispered, cheeks warm. “Kim fucking Namjoon,” you said again with a smile on your face. 

hope you all enjoyed! this is a repost from my main blog, @jiminspjm​, my rapline content will be posted here now! I ill be making my navigation and all that this week, so please be patient uwu

[pjnuzlockes]

EHED: Chapter 1

Remember when I said I was gonna update on Wednesdays? Me neither

They’d cover more ground if they split up. After asking pokemon along Route 1, Brinley reported that the Rockets had been last seen along Route 22, and Gary decided to push on ahead. 

Anything to distract him from the pain.

Route 1 was a very long path, a meadowy area that separated Pallet Town and Viridian City. It was dotted with tall trees that the Pidgey line nested in. Along the dirt path worn down by years of travel were holes dug out by Rattata. A few insects buzzed along and Pidgey swooped down to catch them. 

No clouds blocked the sun. Light breeze. Perfect weather for Finley to sunbathe. 

Oscar, on the other hand, was already sweating. About an hour into the walk, he needed a moment to rest. “Oh, Arceus, why does it have to be so hot?” he complained, sliding down the tree he leaned against.

“Oh, come on!” Finley said. He laughed. “It’s not that bad! Just get yourself an enormous plant on your back and you’ll feel great!”

“No!”

Finley pulled a vineful of grass and tossed it in Oscar’s general direction. It drifted uselessly in the opposite direction. “Hey, we should look for a teammate. Quit your griping and go catch something.”

“Can’t. Don’t have any pokeballs.”

As though summoned, several pokeballs materialized just above Oscar and bounced off his head. Mew appeared a second later, snickering.

Oscar tried to catch the balls as they rolled away.

Finley stopped one and laughed again. “So, were you just waiting for an opportunity to do that?”

“Yep,” Mew said. “Got these from Viridian. Figured you guys might want to expand your team a little. Also, here’s some potions.” She tossed them to Oscar, who actually managed to catch this time. “Don’t worry about how I got these.”

Finley and Oscar exchanged glances.

“I wasn’t worried until you said that,” Oscar said. “Did you do this to Gary too?”

Mew furrowed her brow. Then she gasped. “Oh, crap, I forgot! Go catch some pokemon, I should probably help Gary out.” And with that, she was gone.

“... ‘Kay.”

Getting bonked on the head by a pokegod that then vanished to go harass his best friend should have bothered Oscar more. Something about it should have, at some point, stopped him and told him “Hey, this whole situation is kind of messed up.” But, whatever Bullshit Alarm Oscar had ever been equipped with had long since been stamped out. Instead, he shoved all the items but one pokeball, did a series of dramatic poses holding it with Finley, and collected himself. 

“Okay,” Finley said. He cleared his throat. “Since you have the active researcher license, you can really catch whatever you want, but you’ll still only get one shot for each line. How do we wanna do this? Planning has never really been our strong suit.” And on top of that, they’d only really be able to catch one pokemon per area because of wildlife conservation laws. There were some exceptions, but Finley doubted they’d ever encounter them.

Like they’d ever run into a shiny with their luck.

“Well, since that is the case. I was thinking, I’ll really only aim for a Pikachu in Viridian Forest, other than that, I’ll just see what happens.”

“Okay, so we’re going to face the Rockets with whoever we happen to run into along the way. Great.”

Oscar shrugged. “You did say we suck at planning.”

“I did.”

“Not as bad as you suck at throwing grass. You’re literally a grass type!” Oscar grabbed some grass and tossed it at Finley. Just like before, it floated away on the wind.

“Oh god, you’re worse than I am.”

Oscar snorted. Some movement above them caught his attention.

A couple Pidgeys. They landed in the grass and pecked at the ground. One stopped, cocked his head at Oscar, then returned to pecking.

“Psst, Finley, go talk to them,” Oscar whispered. There was no telling if they were able to speak Kantonian- though that was relatively common on routes closer to towns. Best to have someone else do the talking, just in case.

Finley crept forward. “Uh, excuse me? Do either of you wanna join our team?” He asked, in perfect Kantonian and completely misunderstanding Oscar’s intentions.

One Pidgey flew away, but the one that had looked at Oscar stayed. He studied Finley for a moment. He looked tired. “What’s the team for?”

“Well, it’s, it’s pretty dangerous. We’re, uh. Going to take on the League and fight the Rockets.” That probably didn’t sound particularly inviting.

“Just the two of you?” The Pidgey gestured back to Oscar, who was watching while rubbing one arm.

“Uh. Hopefully not,” Finley admitted. “We haven’t really thought that hard about it.”

The Pidgey just stared back. He looked even more tired than before.

“We don’t really know what we’re going to do. But that’s why we’re asking. Better to ask then just lob a pokeball at you, right?”

The Pidgey took a deep breath. “I see.” He flew over to Oscar and landed on his shoulder. “Name’s Charlie. I’m joining the team. Someone’s gotta make sure y’all don’t get yourselves killed.”

Oscar tapped the pokeball on his forehead. Charlie didn’t resist.

“Welcome to the team, Charlie!” Oscar smiled. He sent the little bird back out. No use keeping him cooped up in the ball all day. Plus, it was more fun with a crowd. It made it feel less like Brinley and Gary were off somewhere far away.

The rest of the walk to Viridian went by quicker. Keeping up with Finley and Charlie’s well being in battle distracted Oscar enough from the heat that he almost celebrated when what had to have been the twentieth Rattata launched itself at them.

At least the team was getting good experience. Bit by bit.

Viridian City was a small haven before the twisting, winding roads of Viridian Forest. Named for the shade of the flora, the area was absolutely bursting with greenery. Every house had a garden and community buildings were packed with potted and hanging plants inside. Oscar couldn’t help but smile at a particularly vibrant pecha plant as he walked to the Pokemon Center counter.

After a quick rest (and restock at the Mart), Charlie spoke up. “We should head north to Route 2 first. Then come back for scoping out Route 22. We won’t be able to go far, but we should try to recruit as much as possible.”

Oscar nodded, done playing with a fern planted next to the road. “We may be able to meet up with Gary and Brinley soon, too.”

“Let’s not get too far into Route 2. Don’t really wanna run into any Weedles just yet,” Finley added. “We’re not quite ready for that. Even if I’m part poison type, I’m still not resistant to Weedle poison. And you and I both remember what happened last time we had a run in with a Kakuna nest.” He looked pointedly at Oscar.

Oscar laughed. “We were fine.”

“No Weedles for Oscar,” Charlie said. He had the feeling he would have to make a lot of rules like this.

“What about a Rattata?” Oscar pointed ahead where one sat, grooming herself. “Hey! Wanna join our team and help us beat up Team Rocket?” he called.

“Shh! Not so loud! What if a Rocket was nearby?” Charlie hissed, exasperated.

The Rattata ran to them. “You’re fighting Team Rocket?” Hopeful. Eager. “They took my friends. The whole nest hasn’t seen them since. We don’t even know if they’re okay.” She looked Oscar right in the eye. “Catch me. I wanna join your team.”

Oscar obliged, and let her back out. “Well that was easy. What’s your name?”

“Vivi.”

“Vivi, do you wanna help me destroy our best friends in battle?” 

“Absolutely.”

---

Route 22 was rather different than the previous areas. It was more rocky, the grasses scraggly where they once were lush. Not to say that the route was devoid of life, it was simply where the terrain became more mountainous. Plenty of pokemon made the area their home, mostly the more rugged lines that didn’t rely on grasses as much for cover. 

A lake had formed toward the center of the route, making what would have otherwise been a short walk to Victory Road more difficult. Old paved roads were cracked and in need of repair, but hadn’t been made a priority over the repairs needed in cities and towns. It was generally assumed that trainers that went out to Route 22 could handle themselves.

“We’ll go no further than this first patch of grass,” Oscar said. He ducked as a troop of Mankeys jumped from the tall rocks overhead. 

Charlie returned from his quick scouting. “Doesn’t look like Team Rocket’s here. Your friend must’ve chased them off.”

One of the Mankeys stopped. She watched for a moment, then grabbed a rock and launched it at Oscar, nailing him in the head. “HEY TRAINER!!”

Oscar yelped and Finley jumped into a defensive position.

“Leave him alone!” Finley growled.

“DO YOU GUYS NEED A MANKEY?” she shouted.

“Oh my god, we can hear you just fine,” Vivi muttered.

“If I catch you, will you agree not to throw another rock at my face?” Oscar rubbed his forehead. He made a face at the small smear of blood on his hand. 

“YEAH SURE.”

Oscar chucked a pokeball at her, which she promptly burst out of. “Hey!” 

The Mankey laughed. “OKAY, TRY AGAIN.” Another pokeball, which she burst out of again, laughing. “OKAY, OKAY, I’LL STOP. FOR REAL THIS TIME.” To her credit, she actually stayed put and allowed herself to be caught.

“Stop shouting,” Oscar said as he ignored the voice inside him saying to keep her in the ball.

“I do what I want,” she said, quieter now. “The name’s Reggie. What I want is- I wanna tag along.”

“Um, okay.”

“Hey, Oscar. I like the new style!” a familiar voice said.

“Gary!” Finley cheered.

Brinley smiled brightly. “I see you guys are getting quite the team. Did Mew give you supplies too?”

“Yeah, seriously, how’d you catch so many pokemon already?” Gary added. He pointed to the Pidgey on his shoulder. “I was only just able to catch Melody here like an hour ago.”

“She stopped by earlier this afternoon,” Oscar said. “Guess she got sidetracked.”

Vivi, Charlie, and Reggie exchanged confused looks.

“Maybe we just had bad luck. Wanna battle?” Gary asked. “We wanna see how well we’re doing with our training.”

“You’re on!”

The first round was bird versus bird. Charlie was faster and just a smidge stronger. Several well timed gusts later and Melody was defeated. 

Next up was Brinley. Reggie jumped at the opportunity to fight someone who didn’t have the advantage.

“Be careful Reggie. No throwing rocks,” Oscar chided. 

“You got it, boss!” she agreed, kicking Brinley in the legs and knocking her over. 

Brinley retaliated with a scratch across Reggie’s face. It hardly left a mark.

“Sorry, kiddo. We Mankeys have pretty tough skin,” Reggie said, kicking again.

This time, Brinley fell onto her back and held up one hand. “Alright, I give. You kick hard.” No need putting herself and Gary in danger when the outcome was clear.

“Well,” Gary said, tossing some coins to Oscar as though he’d been expecting this. “That was anticlimactic. Looks like you got yourself some pretty tough teammates!” He bent down and helped Brinley up. “We’ll totally get you later.”

“We look forward to it,” Oscar said. He and Gary fist bumped. “Next loser buys lunch?”

“Next loser buys lunch.”

[sugar-petals]

Trophy Boyfriend (m)

PAIRING: yoongi x ceo!reader

WORD COUNT: 37k 

SYNOPSIS: He’s accomplished. He’s sexy. He is the perfect subordinate. But something about your new secretary seems off. Yoongi wouldn’t be the first spy in your company.

GENRE: business au — smut | action 

WARNINGS: dom!reader, brat/painslut!yoongi, cunnilingus, bondage, riding, cockwarming, edging, vaginal sex (protected), thigh riding, slaps, anal (unprotected), fingering, mention of blood, no prep, name-calling, spanking, aftercare, scent kink, cbt, harassment, hurt & comfort 

A/N: welcome to this monster of a one shot. if you like e2l, grab a snack 😄requested by @.hopiiiie​!

You smack down the papers on your desk where they disperse. Fury. The file, albeit your favorite contender, is immaculate except one detail. 

It’s in the middle of the timeline where the letters appear larger than the surrounding ones, as if you put a magnifying glass on top of the hefty pile.

Yoongi worked at Lexcom four years ago.

With the top tier league. The luminaries. The impostors. Your greatest rivals.

He even listed them below, one by one, in the neatest of bullet points. Nothing could be more irritating. But the hiring contract form is already on your desk, begging for you to fill in the blanks and boxes with his name. You turn the CV upside down so you don’t have to see the tidy font anymore. To your dismay, even the reverse side of the paper has a detailed work history written on it. And a compilation of rather lofty awards.

You shove one of the other, much more slipshod applicant files on top of it and get up, rip the window open. You hope that the wind carries out all of the CVs with one gush. But it’s May. There’s no breeze at all. The door to your office slams into its dated angles when you leave the room. Even that sound, though always gratifying as of recently now that nobody is actually around, doesn’t make it any better.

The secretary room feels all too empty now. You pace around on the carpet, going through the details of the CV over and over again inside your head. What keeps on bothering you — the sheer audacity. Or was it, well, plain naïve? Impossible. Anybody at Lexcom and from Lexcom knew you’d stay away from them as much as possible. Even if the person had left work at their headquarters a relatively long time ago. Four years, within the pace of the current market, is a very long time, that’s what you own up to, but still: Yoongi was in direct contact with the elite team that so ruthlessly conducted the scam of the century. And now he applied to become your new assistant.

The carpet already sports traces where you had been walking in circles thinking about it. Hiring, how much you hate that nasty shit. There are twenty files that came in with the post from Monday to Wednesday, pre-selected with utmost care, but all of them straight-up bogus with the most improper of qualifications, and one that fits, one!

There’s no alternative. You lean on the secretary desk with both fists closed. Seokjin left it spotless and the drawers in remarkable order. That was back when you didn’t slam doors. It’s so lifeless in this room. You miss him.

After punching in a quick 5-number combination into your desk telephone, a high-pitched, cheery voice emerges at the other end of the line. It’s Park Jimin from HR.

“Can I help?”

“Hey Park. It’s about the applicant, Yoongi.”

“Oh! Yoongi, yes?”

“I’ve checked his curriculum again. I don’t know what Seokjin would even say about that. Need to know your take before I decide.”

“The curriculum, um. Well, I think— Worth the risk,” Jimin shortcuts, “qualifies as basically stellar”.

“Hm. What I thought.”

You already suspect why. Yoongi has a background in accounting, which was one of Jin’s very few shortcomings, but nevertheless, a crucial one. He always had to delegate some of it and couldn’t catch up either. As per the Golden Book, you do require at least five years of accounting experience for the position, and let Jimin know every now and then when new applicants call, especially with the current situation. It’s why you decided to pick Yoongi’s file as a favorite in the first place instead.

“You didn’t ask twice back when Seokjin applied. Why now?”

“I know. This is... a tougher decision. He’s excellent, that’s why.”

You can almost hear Jimin nod through the speaker.

“He even owns and writes for ‘Six Rules’. Never guessed who could be behind that.”

The infamous business blog that’s been making rounds. Jin bought and praised the book that was released under the same title probably two years ago, you don’t quite remember.

“Yeah.”

“You might as well say, Yoongi is not a secretary. He invented it.”

“That’s a stretch.”

“You should read the book. I have it, too. It’s like declining Celine Dion if she calls. His work at Lexcom is long over. Four years is quite a long time.”

“That I agree with.”

“The fact that he put Lexcom in the CV in the first place. Nothing else shows he has nothing to hide. That’s not a strategy of someone who wants to harm our company. Lexcom is sneaky. Yoongi isn’t. He has all of his cards on the table. Think about it.”

“Well, he can’t lie on his CV or leave it out, Park.”

“Jin would like him. That’s all I can say.”

“I’m not convinced. Check your email after lunch.”

“Read the book.”

“Oh well—”

“You’re missing Jin because he went by everything good that Yoongi wrote. Good meaning, everything.”

“I hope so. Later, cheers.”

The telephone beeps away until you put it down. The shelf next to Jin’s desk does have a couple books left in it. You already know that he doesn’t have to take them with him to memorize what’s inside. Or maybe it would have been too much of a hassle to bring home. You clear out a dozen empty folders and stack them on the desk so you can browse through the book titles without taking out each one of them. Keys to Management, Accounting 101, Advanced Grammar, Essential Steps To Successful Consulting, Basics of Civil Law, Copyright Law—

Six Rules: The Way of The Secretary. It’s not a job. It’s a lifestyle!

Written by Min Yoongi. Published by Lexcom Press. Seoul, 2016.

You shake your head in disbelief, toss the blue hardcover back and forth between your palms. Quite a lot of pages. The table of contents reveals the same neat structure from Yoongi’s CV, even the same font. He’s consistent. You decide to go back into your office and put the book on the fringe of your desk.

The twenty files in the center, almost impossibly scattered now, went through Jimin’s fingers last week for selection. Judging by his enthusiasm for Yoongi, you start to doubt that he handed you the nineteen other obviously bogus applications without bias or knowing full well which one would make the race according to your criteria.

The hiring contract looks even more tempting now. You turn around the top page of Yoongi’s curriculum again to dart your eyes across the first part of the work history for what feels like the 30th time today. A lot of management accounting here, auditing there. Time abroad in Switzerland, one and a half years. Maybe he is, indeed, the Celine Dion whose call you should by all means not decline.

The corridors are strangely silent when you clatter through them, headed to your office when the sun rises above the Han River. You hear from the social media department forming a decent queue at the coffee machine preparing their tea and macchiato that there’s been gossip, but they pull rather furtive and taut faces when you ask what that gossip was about.

At your desk, the first thing you do is check your email. Jimin’s upbeat replies from yesterday evening moved down a little, while a new message from Namjoon popped up. Your CCO since a year, yet already irreplaceable. It doesn’t have any content except a sequence of letters and numbers.

— CODE 19. #9828.

#9828 looks familiar. You gather Yoongi’s file, by now, the only one on your desk, and glance to the header where the same number is imprinted with italics. It’s the applicant cipher. And code 19, integral to the Golden Book, is universally known since the last incident, shortly before you took over the company from your mother.

Code 19 means threat of espionage.

You reply Namjoon a short confirmation right away and storm out the door. HR here you come. You knew something wasn’t right with Yoongi the second Jimin handed you the batch of files.

Jimin, ruffled hair but collar stiff, paces up and down on his rather maltreated office carpet whose halcyon days have long passed. The printer you lean on is currently busy spouting data sheets and stock results. Economy department sent a request, and Jimin has the only printer on the floor. The door is firmly closed. Your patience is running out but Jimin still goes onto his fifth tangent.

“Y/N. Code 19 is not a fact, it’s an assumption. It’s a possible threat. You were the one saying that when you instructed me to the Golden Book. Joon picked a up a rumor at a meeting, that’s about it. There are a lot of jealous people out there. They don’t want Yoongi to strengthen our business. They know he’d perform well here. As your backup.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t you check the news on your app? Lexcom has its eyes on Hoseok’s company. They won’t send us a spy. Just because you consider them a rival, doesn’t mean they think of you as one in return. Those days are gone. They think we’re out of the competition already. We’re way below. Not dangerous to their monopoly game. That’s what Lexcom thinks. Hoseok’s company is where the money is instead. The innovations. The right minds, the right people, the right symbols and slogans. It’s where Lexcom will attack. If they send a spy, if they send Yoongi for their gain, then he’d go there. Yongsang Digital is on the rise. Hoseok is a brilliant head. His softwares give solutions where nobody thought problems would be.”

“Park, you sound like you wanna work there. Our company doesn’t create artificial needs.”

The social media directors and other staff strut down the corridor and Jimin pauses until they reach the stairwell.

“It’s not the point. What I wanna say is. Y/N, you put your signature on the contract. The paperwork is done. You can’t fire him before he even shows up here. You said his book is great yourself!”

“The rumors. I’ll take them seriously. I trust Namjoon’s weary eye. He won’t mail me Code 19 without a solid reason. Yoongi is a real risk. I don’t care about Lexcom’s interest in Hoseok and his slogans.”

The chatter in the stairwell slowly ceases and Jimin no longer sounds like he’s short of whispering.

“It’s nothing of substance to pin down. Yoongi’s interview went well. He’s dapper, he’s smart, he can handle a stress situation. Every interviewee reported a good impression. Namjoon’s eye gets a little too weary when he’s busy elsewhere. You act like Yoongi is about to replace you or hangs outside your office window like Tom Cruise with binoculars, what on earth.”

“Impressions aren’t everything. Especially when it’s someone who’s been in the devil’s den.”

“Four years ago! Before the scam went down, and that wasn’t even in his department.”

“Four years ago. It was the adjacent department, he was involved for sure.”

The printer stops. Jimin takes out the papers and staples them.

“This is HR. I do this every day. You trust me as much as you trust Namjoon, do you?”

“If you spill too much praise for Yongsang Digital and read books by Lexcom Press, maybe not.”

“You read it, too!”

“Recommended by you. Listen, Yoongi arrives in one hour. Namjoon is not in office, I can’t call him. He’s in another external meeting, they have a presentation going on there.”

“If that’s not fate?”

“Fate isn’t what makes business good and safe. Yoongi is an excellent candidate. But I decided that we have to annul—”

Jimin’s phone rings only once. It’s the reception’s number popping up on the screen. After nodding twice, Jimin, past the printer, rushes out of the door smiling. He has the printed papers clamped under his arm. The front page has a sticky note on it. For Secretary M.Y. — Please report + double-check. You follow Jimin down the corridor fuming.

He’s already here. Fifty minutes early because he can. The hailed secretary genius from Lexcom. Fifty fucking minutes. Because he’s ‘dapper’, polished, handles stress well, and writes dastardly prodigouous books about lifestyle, not jobs. With all these trophies and the right type of experience. You already know Yoongi’s a big piece of shit.

Jimin’s back before you is almost taunting. Going down the steps from the center hallway seems to take forever. Perhaps it’s just the feeling in your gut, but even the new elevator is terrifyingly slow today. Fuck Orbit Electrics, all they can do is craft you a shiny bleeping steel box that looks good but won’t actually go up and down the way it should. It’s a disgrace, it runs on your goddamn software. You check the display panel where a red number glows. 6th floor. Jimin’s smile in the mirror becomes all the more annoying. He notices, and starts going through the papers humming a Celine Dion song. At least is smells good in here, some nice aftershave.

You distract yourself with the small reading session’s afterthoughts from yesterday. The book persuaded you too fast to tick the boxes and put down the signature. Maybe it was the adrenaline, the affect. Yoongi is passionate about business. Every page reads very much like it. But now, in a sober moment? Too much regret, at the wrong point in time. You would be glad to have Yoongi join the office if he had been a trusted employee so far in another department.

Heck, you’d even take him if he worked at Yongsang Digital before the company blew up. Jimin is right about Hoseok and his team, they do bring the innovation on the market. But Yoongi, effectually, is not from Yongsang Digital. A walk through the office this morning reminded you who would be the one and only person suitable for this job, still. How can you miss Jin so much?

3rd floor. Jimin not only hums, but also dances from foot to foot. Your eye rolls won’t faze him. He keeps on swaying. HR is one hell of a department. Their coffee is too strong there. Jin always had two cups of tea each morning. Herbal. You are glad that he, judging by the pictures on his feed a week ago, has found a little share of peace in life with his family. Gwangju is a nice city. He got hired at a consulting business, gave up on smoking.

Jin’s happiness was more important than this job. Not that he didn’t enjoy the office work, but Jihye wasn’t content in clouded Seoul after their marriage, as were the kids. Jin thought the same after a while of hearing complaints and mentioning it to you, which was probably a good sign. A joint family decision is much better than being at opposing ends. When you love each other, you feel each other. Much of that mentality, although not in a romantic way, made him the secretary he was. It’s where the certificates came from.

The farewell was on good terms because you knew about Jihye’s opinion. It’s was not because Jin followed the Six Rules, which, even after reading the book you could not reconstruct in hindsight. It was the honesty on both sides that made him the ideal assistant to you. His most important contributions are already engraved in the frames all around his office. Trophies, who cares. Jin got it all written down for him.

The staff from the relocation team got your personal order to let them hanging because Seokjin said he was moving on, he didn’t need the certificates anymore just like everything on the bookshelf. That his professional and platonic time took place with you was the only memory that counted and that he took with him. So the certificates still stayed next to the door to your office, behind the wall at the oaken desk. You walk past them every morning when you come into your office. Even today, and you looked at them for much longer than usual.

1st floor. Your absent-mined stare on Jimin’s hands doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. You think about how the certificates could either be a menace or reason for a good belly laugh to Yoongi. Even if, yes, his file reads like an unblemished success story. So far. The benefit of the doubt still rules. But that doesn’t mean you will cast aside all suspicions. The stocks are doing well, yet you can’t manage the loss of not having them stabilize throughout winter. 

A loss that would come about so easily if Code 19 hit the bullseye and Yoongi’s ties with Lexcom were never cut in the first place.

His CV certainly could make someone believe that he really did, since he’s been busy accounting and doing freelance jobs since then. It’s all in the timeline. It was all very unlike his work with software at Lexcom. But finding out how loyal Yoongi is even to his font, you can’t exclude the same for his former employer. You have to call Namjoon as soon as possible to verify things. Otherwise, instead of the certificates, Lexcom’s eyes dangle on the wall the second Yoongi moves in. Metaphorically speaking. Or quite literally. Surveillance software is the new market. You have to speak about the strongroom with Namjoon the second he sets foot in his office again.

“GROUND FLOOR,” the elevator voice announces.

“Ah, Front of House. Always a joy,” Jimin finishes his dance with a wink at his own reflection in the mirror. HR really does have the strongest coffee. Or the toners from Jimin’s printer puff out some weird fucking fumes. You’ll alert Taehyung that it needs maintenance.

Jimin stacks the papers against his knee twice to make them look less disheveled and greets two guys from the IT. Your eyes are elsewhere. There’s an up-tempo jazz tune coming from the street. The musicians, one with a trombone, another with a cello, the third with a guitar, are not something you’d see or hear from your office during the day. They tap their feet in perfect rhythm on the pavement opposite the the foyer glass facade where a turnstile spins and lets in both people and the melody.

Good, groovy music. It’s what you always liked. Your mother wanted SeoulTec to be at the heart of the city for that purpose, too. To feel the beat of the alleys. Jimin doesn’t really seem to bother, striding past the cafeteria where the pastries are all sold out today. Your eyes dart back to the entrance, musicians, and the street.

Even now, curious people are peering in to look at the silver statue located in the middle of the foyer. A giant and sleek crane, curved and sculpted almost entirely out of chrome. A symbol that decorated the hall for almost twenty years after a modern artist with a complicated name decided to design and build it under difficult circumstances, which in and of itself was symbolic for the company.

The interest in the passers-by, however, even if you see them almost every week when you come here, makes you smile. Maybe Front of House isn’t too bad, after all. Yoongi’s arrival is making you think about things you took for granted. Because everything inside of this building could be going down within the span of a day.

Behind the statue, some ludicrous ad standees and service desks stretch out row after row. A few steps away — the reception with a quirky pot plant next to it. A queue of roughly fifteen people ranges from one standee to the place where you see Taehyung sit at his computer, in his second-best suit with the little dots on the shirt underneath. It’s one of those days.

“Nice morning, T!” Jimin greets, making the people in the queue turn their heads after just randomly staring around looking rather impatient.

“Rowdy morning,” Taehyung cocks a brow from behind the reception table, typing while he speaks. “You’ve heard that Yoongi is here, right.”

You’re sneering.

“Apparently, he’s an, uh, ghost? Jimin looked like you said to him on the phone, ‘hey Park, come down, Mister Lexcom arrived with flying colors!’ What happened to the fifty minutes earlier promise?”

Taehyung bites his lower lip.

“Well, ah. He is not here. Um, using the normal entrance. I didn’t want to talk too much on the phone. It’s because—”

“Hmm?”

Taehyung isn’t normally that shy.

“Yoongi’s got a fancy car. He did come in through Front of House but decided to leave it in our subterranean before you both could come down. The elevators are slower today, don’t know why, beats me. Couldn’t really stop him.”

If gazes could stab, Taehyung would be impaled by yours now.

“A fancy car, you say? And you just gave him access to the subterranean. Where my car is.”

“He’s your secretary. I’m obliged to give him the access password. That’s in the Golden Book.”

“Anyways,” Jimin interrupts. “The queue is getting longer. T is busy. Come on, Yoongi can’t access the building again from the subterranean without a key card, the code only goes one way. Concierge, would you be so kind?”

“Here it is.”

He hands over a turquoise, rectangular chip. The number #9828 is stamped into the white name field in the middle.

Min Yoongi, SeoulTec. Executive Assistant. DOB 09-03-93.

You take it from Taehyung with an empty smile.

“Last time you gave out the password. Apart from that, by the way. Send someone to take care of Jimin’s printer later.”

“Okay, Ma’am. On the list.”

“So long, T!” Jimin waves. “We’ll meet the ghost now.”

Your smile becomes twice as empty, and the chip two times as heavy in your palm. Seokjin handed his key card in a few days ago, with Taehyung becoming a bit teary-eyed. It was so used, the turquoise had come off. He had deserved to carry it all day.

Jimin already heads to the elevator again and presses the -3 button, then puts in the password. You join him with a teeth-gritting scowl. Impossible to hide how much you despise Min Yoongi, the grandiose fuck. He could have parked outside and asked you about garage opportunities later and not change his mind the last minute to make you wait at the reception. This is Lexcom type of conduct, you can smell it before the elevator even hits the basement level.

“SUBTERRANEAN,” its electronic voice drones over your heads.

Jimin grins when the doors part and the scent of gasoline engulfs you.

The designated area is a small walk away. If he wasn’t with you right now, Jimin would prance along the way and sing, “yay, I meet the Six Rules guy!”

“Excited? This is the HR dream,” he spouts.

“The day you get that Code 19 is a serious order I will be. I signed a contract to make our stocks drop.”

Hiring Yoongi was a death sentence.

“Too late for that order.”

You knew what happened back then when it was first used. Tax fraud allegation. False, but reputation ruined. Lexcom used the SeoulTec blueprints they got their eyes on, just a bit altered here and there, instead and hit it big. The spy was never identified. The rage still anchors from your head to toe. It’s what made your mother resign. You feel it now, all the more, and Jimin’s salesman smile makes it worse.

“But ready to throw hands with my own Executive Assistant and drag him out through the entire foyer.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“The foyer.”

“To let everyone know the SeoulTec safety policy. We won’t go bankrupt again.”

“So, throwing hands for that, then.”

“If need be, my office stays Tom Cruise antics free.”

“Tom Cruise? Try shake hands. Gotta stay professional. Dragging doesn’t send a safety message either. Keep your boxing gloves in the ring. Whatever pent up stuff you got going on there... Yoongi is a good guy.”

Jimin pats the stapled papers with the sticky note resting in his left hand, turns a corner into the parking lot. Only a few steps and one heavy door left, past the large “private garage” arrow. Jimin puts in the password once again to make the door click open.

It’s when the smell of diesel gets the most intense that you see his silhouette.

Surprisingly petite. A fresh haircut, ruffled through quite deliberately with gel in it. A suit in royal blue, so dark and velvety, Taehyung would dissolve in a jealous fit. The collar crisp and stiff, more than Jimin’s. Slightly tapered shoulders but without pads. A suitcase in his right hand.

He bows deeper than you thought. But you know why. That’s Rule Number I in the book.

You stop, keep a good distance, bow down half as deep. He pushes back his hair into its original form as you do.

“Hey, Porsche.”

His voice is deep and throaty. You sigh — at least on the inside. He’s seen your car. Parked at the other end of the garage by itself. He knew exactly it was yours and nobody else’s. The game of chess is on.

“Hey, Benz.”

Right behind him. A glossy car, CLS, all black, epitome of class. You know that the Lexcom executives drive the same brand, some even Maybach models. CEO Jeon does. If you drive Benz, you are Lexcom. You are part of the luminaries.  

“Utmost pleasure. I’m sorry for the inconvenience with the reception.”

His deep eyes glower. Do you hear some nervosity in his voice?

Jimin reminds you of something important with a mere nod.

“Catch.”

You toss Yoongi the key card. A quick throw. Snap. His fist closes around it without a flinch to be seen from the rest of his body. One segment on his CV said: Interests — basketball.

“At your service. Thank you for accepting me.”

You twinkle. Maybe there is this tone of nervosity indeed. Now it’s your turn to remind Jimin.

“Park, would you be so kind? Pass him his first task.”

“Oh, yeah, the papers. Welcome to SeoulTec enterprises.”

The salesman smile grows wide. In return, Yoongi’s bony fingers store away the key card in his suit’s inlay, then reach out to the papers. He scrutinizes the first pages for a few seconds, then bows to you again.

“Perfect. That’s my job.”

You might as well pass out from gritting your teeth. He’s so inconceivably full of himself. That’s his true profession.

After Jimin and him exchanged some friendly verbiage for introduction, the sole noise between the three of you is Yoongi further rustling with his papers on the way up. You don’t know what else to say or think other than sizing him up. He’s just two feet away. Whatever gel he smeared into his hair to make it stick and shine, it’s the sign of a lot of time in the morning and haughtiness that surpasses your entire innovations department, and these are the guys who get all puffed up each time you drop by. Not even close, he’s worse. You have nothing against competitive intelligence between corporations, but he radiates it: Something far too dodgy and illegal. It’s the way his grey tie is fastened, his shirt is cuffed. Sabotage. Dirty cash bags. Drugs. Foreign prostitutes on corporate excursions. There has to be something weird about a guy that refers to their boss by her car’s brand and then goes on playing nice.

If you could drag him out through the foyer, you would not think twice at this point. But who are you to go about that just now without proof other than Namjoon’s judgement and your learned lessons from the resignment that broke your mother’s heart. Jimin is right to keep the boxing gloves away and be a reasonable leader, but how else can you assure that Yoongi hasn’t bribed Taehyung with two hundred thousand Won, knows how to hack, and installed a camera and microphone in his suitcase. Only when it’s too late and the damage is done can you do something about it. Even the actual fist fight you’d be more than down for wouldn’t harm the public image of SeoulTec as much as being betrayed and deceived again from your own ranks.

The elevator still smells like way too much petrol when the voice announces the 8th floor. But the only thing that concerns you is Yoongi’s aftershave. A distinct mix of orchid, sandalwood, something else, something more dangerous, luring. It’s driving you absolutely nuts, you wish you could wreck his. Jimin sends you a knowing glance. That is Rule Number II in the book at work you’re seeing indeed.

The two rugged IT guys from earlier set up an account and all the other paraphernalia for him, extra security at your demand, firewall. Jimin talks with Yoongi outside of the room. It’s unintelligible. When the IT leaves, Yoongi parts from Jimin bowing and props his suitcase onto the desk in a very non-Seokjin-like manner.

How dare he.

This desk is holy.

Big deals might not have been signed on it, that was on your desk. But here, SeoulTec’s future was still decided through the minutiae that Seokjin treasured and took care of. The way the suitcase just lands there— you can already tell, the right dose of respect is not flowing through Min Yoongi’s veins as expected. The way he throws himself into the chair, too.

“Thanks for the PC setup, seems very comprehensive. Got the password.”

“Good that you mention it. If there’s any concern, consult me first.”

“Will do. This office is nice.”

“Glad you like it. Utensils are in the left drawer.”

“Ah, for the papers. I won’t distract you further, I know you’re busy.”

“Just give me a shout, and there are cookies in my room.”

You can’t believe your just said that. Cookies. 

By the time you sit down, door open to the secretary’s office, the papers are distributed on his desk, the suitcase is still in its place. Yoongi himself you see study the bookshelf with eager eyes, seemingly content, then working through the papers one by one with a stern gaze. You at least pretend to preoccupy yourself with medium priority phone calls and drinking three cups of extra strong coffee in the hopes that you can still wink at yourself in the mirror by the end of this day Jimin-style. Two hours later and the papers are on your desk, everything summarized, everything corrected. It’s all so neat. Every other CEO would do a standing ovation. But you don’t.

Every detail from the report has been scrutinized. You can tell by the bright green and orange highlighter pen marks all over. He was beyond thorough. You didn’t just hire a spy. You hired the self-proclaimed secretary mastermind who does appear to live up to that name. Shooting yourself in the foot by having him work for you is an understatement.

But who are you not to bite your tongue now and utter the due praise. There’s nothing to hold against him.

“Good job. Check your mail in a minute.”

“Oh yes, thank you Ma’am!”

Yoongi only smiles and spins on his tapered heel to return to the desk.

“Take a cookie before you go. I have chocolate, cream, and plain.”

“Right!”

He now heads to the small tray that you set up at the window. It’s deliberate — the view stuns anybody who lingers for a couple seconds. But Yoongi’s eyes won’t break from you the second he got himself a cookie. He doesn’t seem to plan biting into it anytime soon either.

“You have a question, right?” he says instead. Any other boss would love a secretary knowing what’s on their mind. But you don’t.

“The Six Rules,” you cock your head. It doesn’t take much more to get him talking. 

“I knew you’re heard of it. Jimin said he recommended it to you.”

“When exactly did you come up with them?”

“Roughly four years ago, I think. It was a time when I learned a lot.”

“Four years, I see.”

What a fucking coincidence.

“Is there anything specific you want to know?”

Again, he knows your mind too well. He’s probably trained in planting cameras everywhere as much as he is trained to read your body language to a T.

“That’s it for now. Jimin was right to recommend it.”

“I’m honored. And this is cream, right?”

He holds up the cookie.

“Oh. Yes. My favorite as well. I’ll send the mail now.”

“Will reply in a minute!”

He leaves the office munching. A little ping from his PC lets you know that the data was transmitted. The amount of grudge you have sending it to him gladly wasn’t. But given how his eyes seem to read you like a book, Yoongi already knows how you hate giving him this task. It has to be done, it’s urgent. At least he didn’t mute the PC volume, that’s at least one good sign. So you hear what’s going on. Or maybe it’s done to distract you on purpose. He shouts into your room.

“Great, I’ll read it in a second!”

It really snaps you out of your train of thought: His voice is so raunchy. The distance from your desk to his is far enough to make him raise the tone this way, but close enough so you can enjoy the timbre. It almost makes you forget about Namjoon’s warning.

“Take it slow, it’s 50 pages. Nothing to read in one go. It’s the work of a couple years condensed, plus it’s still growing.”

“Splendid. Hold on.”

Just when you want to reply, he opens his suitcase. Without making it too obvious, you grab your phone, unlock the camera. Should he fuck around, you’ll have solid evidence. Something to rub into Jimin’s face as proof that Yoongi was in fact, the man you knew he would be. When the suitcase is wide open and he reaches inside, you are ready to press play. What comes into your sight, drawn out by his hand is—

A tissue. 

The wipes his hand, the corners of his mouth, stands up, and drops it inside the bin behind the door to the hallway all crumpled up. Going back to the desk, he shuts the suitcase and lifts it from the table. As accurate as his pen circles on the first papers you looked at, he brings it down at the left side of him where it remains closed and ignored once he resumes scrolling at the PC. Your camera’s press play button remains untouched. Instead, you’re taking up an incoming phone call.

From Yoongi’s desk, only clicking and scribbling noises reach across the room while you make calls with project managers whose words about revenue, discarding and filing ideas, the new stakeholders — go right past your left ear at the phone speaker. All you care about is that Yoongi is taking notes while he goes through the Golden Book PDF. He’s taking. Notes. And scrolling slow. Soaking up every word. The project managers asking about the databases only get a less-than-satisfactory “hm, hm” of yours at the other end of the line.

You hang up all too soon. This is of no use. Emails you click away into the low-priority field. Then, stand up to walk into the secretary room. If only you could give him another task. But reading the Golden Book is strictly required on the first day. Because the book itself says so. You hate your own policies. They’re shit.

“How are you advancing?”

“Page twenty, Ma’am. I’m quite impressed. There are some profound things in there.”

You peek at Yoongi’s notes. He’s written two pages in petite lettering already. That’s what happens when you make your own company’s number one codex spy-proof but hire one regardless.

“The Golden Book... only gives employees a rough outline, a contour if you will. It’s more superficial than you might think. It changes all the time, too.”

“It looks more than just a guideline,” he shakes his head. You can see him pat the embossing on the front cover. The golden crane. “I’ll definitely keep these things in mind. Everything sounds like it comes from experience. And, lessons learned. I wouldn’t understate that.”

That feeling again. Just an inch under your skin. You’re boiling. It’s hard to hide your clenching fists before his eyes behind your back. Not only do you hate your policies. But also having to go full sophistry mode with Tom Cruise disguised as Celine Dion in your office doing his job as excellently as you thought he’d do it.

“The purpose was to not repeat mistakes, but also, to weed out the employees who harm the business.”

“Have just written that point down. About the nondisclosures and such. You might know, I’m big on security. A lot of people want a piece of good work. I’ve written Rule Number III considering this back and forth.”

Without a doubt, you know you are about the worst CEO of whole Seoul when it comes to hiring. Even Orbit Electronics couldn’t fuck up like that.

“I see you’re a few steps ahead.”

“It’s the cookies, Ma’am.”

Yoongi, after having a cup of herbal tea, flops his jacket across the hat rack where Seokjin’s old light blue umbrella still dangles side to side. He checks whether his shirt is tucked in properly at the waist three times, then jots down something on his notepad. You step inside the secretary room with an orange folder in your hand.

“Ready to go?”  

“Looking forward to this.”

A quick glance into the bin and the certificates without being too obvious about it is harder to pull off than you think, but at least he leaves the room first. Who knows, he might have hidden a camera in the tissue. It would be unobtrusive enough.

“We start at innovations, last is maintenance and warehouse. The IT is a larger department, I’ll show you around tomorrow. It’s a bit overwhelming at first. You already know Taehyung, but we can still visit Front of House instead. I’ll introduce you to the service desks, they will call you here and there. Cafeteria should have new snacks by now, and green tea cake.”

“Yes, I like cake rolls. That’s an AB blood type thing to do.”

“Oh, AB is yours.”

It’s a bit of an outdated practice. And superstitious. But still, a custom. You’ve been wondering about his blood group since Taehyung handed over his key card.

“Let me guess yours. B, perhaps?”

“It’s zero.”

“Fitting of a chief executive. You might prefer rice cake, then.”

“I do. The ones with strawberries and chocolate on the inside.”

Yoongi closes the door behind you, then writes something down below the underlined rubric ‘Rule Number IV’. You don’t want to say anything about it. Now he even takes notes about your habits.

There’s loud chatter in the staircase now.

“Okay, so, innovations department is first. Curious. Quite lively around here.”

From the group of staff entering the corridor, a lady in a red suit and black wavy hair separates into your direction. Her smile is brighter than ever, particularly when she sees Yoongi looking all professional with his notepad and the most creaseless shirt in the entire company.

“Hey sweethearts! The new secretary?”

She blinks, earning your nod.

“Yes, just joined us.”

“Min Yoongi,” he retorts. “And you are?”

The lady’s eye smile lingers.

“Kim Hyuna, Development.”

“Oh, that’s where we’re headed.”

“Great, just come along in a minute! Whole team could use someone handsome to look at. Y/N, the file?”

“Yes, the new blueprints,” you hand over the orange folder, brow knit. Hyuna browses through the pages with her usual sound effects. Yoongi takes notes.

“Oh, this pretty design. Mh, an algorithm. Okay, okay. Ah. And this is the script we need. Wow, top secret, even! Look at this, so brilliant,” she turns the page to Yoongi now, then looks at you. “Hey, Y/N, you don’t seem alright, what’s wrong?”

Your eyes and ears might as well implode. Jimin was right with your bad temper. But it’s not like everyone in this building would give you a solid reason for it. A rice cake doesn’t sound so bad right now.

“Read it later, Hyuna,” you tip the cover of the orange folder over until it closes before her eyes. “I just want to show Yoongi around in the corridors and get to know each other. But I think we should start with the cafet—”

“Come on, you two lovebirds,” Hyuna flounces down the hallway now, orange folder resting laxly on her left forearm crossed before her chest. “Probably a good thing Jin went to Gwangju.”

The words are like a slap in the face. You can already feel your heart beat five times as fast.

Yoongi looks up from his notes to look at you.

“Jin?”

“My... former secretary.”

On top of a rice cake, you probably need to refresh your deodorant if this goes on. Hyuna opens the door to the development office with a cackle.

“Was off limits for her, frustrated the entire department, but you don’t have a wedding ring, do ya? No offense, you look good.”  

Yoongi shakes his head.

“I’m not, not married, uh—”

“I already love this,” Hyuna says, then shouts into the office where about ten busy staff members type and pin things to the wall where sketches and algorithms are drawn all over the place. “Look at that, she finally got herself a boy toy, hah! About time!”

Applause from all corners of the room.

Maybe taking him on a tour through the building to buy time backfired not just once, but two times.

Yoongi has to leave earlier. The fifty minutes he arrived before the actual morning appointment, minus ten or fifteen that you spent in the subterranean, pay off now. He glances at Jin’s wall certificates a couple of times while packing his briefcase. His suit is more clean and well-fitted than ever. Yoongi tosses the wrapping into the bin and picks up his jacket again. He looks at the umbrella, then back to your office, suit case in his right hand and notepad safely stored inside.

“Great time working with you,” he says.

“You know what you’re doing.”

“Always part with good words,” Yoongi bows. “And, don’t work for too long.” You realize that he just quoted page 50 from the Golden Book, hoping he doesn’t notice your desperate want to stress-eat all the remaining cream cookies. “That complements what I wrote in Rule Number V.”

“Our books might not be so different, after all.”

“We enjoy the same cookies. No surprise to me.”

A charismatic, winning smile follows. One knowledgeable about the accolades listed in the front pages of the Six Rules webpage. One knowledgeable that a Mercedes waits for him. One knowledgeable of how insufferable you find him, but can’t do anything, just anything, about that because he’s secured himself that secretary room like a tick on a patch of skin. And you can’t scratch him off without risking parts of him getting stuck in this enterprise even deeper.

He turns toward the door after a 90° bow. More a butler than secretary, you think, uttering a mumbled goodbye formulaic and as meaningful as a piece of toast. The key card bleeps.

“See you then.”

So casual. And he’s out the door.

A fourth cup of coffee is deeply needed now. Even if your hands are jittery. Think, think back to how this all started. Your brain is absolutely blank. What holds you back from firing him right on the spot?

What damage control task Yoongi gets tomorrow is certainly not dependent on the printer in Jimin’s office that gets important assignments from any other department on the hallway. And not on Kim Hyuna’s orange file. Nor Kim Taehyung. Generally speaking — after knowing Jimin’s recent canticle about every other enterprise in town except SeoulTec, you plan to thwart his undertakings on top of Yoongi’s, drastically so. His dedication is elsewhere. Yes, he caused this. The nineteen bogus files had an ulterior motive and weren’t selected according to the guidelines at all. Jimin stepped on all principles of fairness, he probably threw away the other good applications right away. Elsewhere he must go. Yongsang Digital could need an HR manager. Not now. Yoongi is first.

Neither Namjoon’s email nor phone react. You go to HR again where Jimin, staying late as usual while there’s virtually no one else on the corridor, says he has word he returns in two days. The journey is quite long as is the presentation he’s at. Orbit Five enterprises in Daegu where a new hardware prototype model had been launched. Namjoon gets busy with some press releases next week, but this launch is more important, he has to show attendance, presence. Until then, Yoongi can’t be fired on a solid basis for practically any accusation. But Jimin knows that you came for another question. He coaxes it out of you by imitating the faces you were trying not to pull in the elevator coming back from the subterranean after first meeting Yoongi.

“Oh, Mister Lexcom, such scent!”

“I do have a question on that...”

“Such! Scent!”

He’s caught up in the impression. Talk about professional. You want to deck Yoongi in the face so he flies out the building on the legal basis of tax fraud, but here your HR manager has his fun ridiculing you. Perhaps, truly, there’s nobody ‘professional’ except the cafeteria guys who sell more cakes and snacks than even Taehyung on a bad day can eat.

“Now, really. What’s in his aftershave?”

“Orchid, sandalwood, spice, duh. You dig that, grump? You’re acting weird.”

You’re already on your way out.

“Was nice talking, Park, good to see you.”

“Might be a bottle blonde but I still know the gentleman’s essentials.”

“It’s late, time to sign out,” you shout going down the corridor. Jimin shouts right back.

“Calm your anger issues until tomorrow and just fuck him!”

Spice it is. The third ingredient. What spice exactly? You should have asked. Let’s see if he wears that tomorrow. The aftershave seems to follow you everywhere — even dropping to the subterranean on the elevator again, where you check your emails on the phone. The field where Namjoon’s messages always turn up is still empty.

Instead, a new flagged mail is at the top of the feed. Kim Eonjin, CMO. Here in marketing since 2013, the only person you trusted to fast forward the Code 19 alert to. She writes she advises care for “the matter” and to remember the last meeting you had. Where you got to know the market fluctuates too much to tell, that Yongsang Digital can make the big decisions currently, and not SeoulTec. But a crucial detail and Lexcom could outdo all five competing enterprises in the field with a new software launch. Better than Orbit Five’s, no matter how enthusiastic Namjoon was to see it, which truly meant something — usually. That alone would be all fair and just. But what if that crucial detail came from your office, Yoongi’s keen ears to be precise.

The email attachment has new contents for the blueprint in it, less significant ones, but just about a hundred pages worth of packed information and sketches. Those you make a mental mark to send to the development office. Eonjin is clever. Really clever. She knows that Hyuna works best when there’s a lot to do. Otherwise, she does things like spontaneously proclaiming a dinner date on Friday for Yoongi and you earlier. During lunch break at the cafeteria. Even if she knew that you’d roll your eyes at that and go eat elsewhere in town at Sunmi’s food stall, dragging Yoongi with you knowing that otherwise, the whole IT department seated at the other cafeteria table would deliver him whatever codes in jest. Because they can’t shut up either. Which further prompted Hyuna to announce that you might actually be dating already. Who treats their secretary to Sunmi’s sandwiches on the first day, hah, you lovebirds!

While in reality, Yoongi got an important text and had to drive around the block for a private matter at a place he said was in Hannam. In the meantime, you ranted and cried your eyes out to a strangely customer-less Sunmi for 30 minutes straight, with the rather juicy tomato sandwich she made you almost ruining your suit. If there’s no queue at Sunmi’s, Namjoon is out of office, and Taehyung gives out passwords because he can, a day is truly hell. Except this one flagged email on top of your feed. The elevator is beeping again.

“SUBTERRANEAN.”

You reply an “OK” to Eonjin feeling the need to develop a safety plan with Namjoon. Who knows, the IT department might be a bunch of arrogant pricks, but their work is hard to underestimate and so essential to keep the corporation out of getting into the red. Lexcom is unpredictable, so is Min Yoongi, and you already know he wants to get involved under the guise of being such a secretary mastermind. Maybe it’s a good move to have the enemy up close in the other room. One mistake from Yoongi and you have compelling evidence, Hyuna’s antics aside. You will finally understand why Lexcom did what they did. You’ll get into his head and find out. You close the email inbox, tuck away your phone, and step into the cloud of fuel again.

Where the Mercedes stood after Yoongi’s arrival is now a gap that you do end up staring into for three minutes instead of heading to your own car. You hate realizing how you think about these things so much.

Finally. The paper box with red felt marker on the top lid has been making your mouth water all day. Fried potato starch noodles that Sunmi prepared in a matter of three minutes. You push the container into the microwave where they sizzle and permeate the apartment with a flavor of sesame and soy sauce, then practically fall into in the armchair in your living room. Christie S. Kwon keeps on looking at you strange, but gives off a satisfied meow once you pat and scrub her head multiple times, the neck, too. The cat makes herself at home in the kitchen once content, watching the moon rise at the skyline. She dozes off in a matter of two minutes.  

On your lap now rests Six Rules. Already tossed and turned more than Jin could have possibly read it throughout his entire career at SeoulTec.

Again, you start with the introduction text. All sentences as correct as Yoongi’s way of bowing, and his collar. He must be good at ironing. You read through the table in the middle of the page once more, each rule one by one, then go to the chapters where each individual rule is elaborated and exemplified. Chapter six in particular makes you ignore the blip of the microwave where Sunmi’s noodles steam the front window from the inside, making Christie S. Kwon purr in her sleep.

Once you did fetch them from the microwave, they’re already lukewarm. The book is closed, balancing itself on the armrest of the chair while you provide the searchbar on Yoongi’s website with some fodder.

#taxes #lexcom #rule VI #yongsang digital #orbit five #about me #stock market #ceo #notes #basketball #blood types

Much like Christie keeps on mewling in her sleep because the noodles still smell that tasty, you’re not running out of tags any time soon. How to get into his brain if not this way. You memorize everything about the website, and not just the text. The layout, the images, the filing system, the email addresses and contacts, too. If you want to get into his head, you do it properly even if it’s a lot of work. If Yoongi can take notes, so can you.

Hyuna gets her hundred pages tomorrow. Less fuel for her boredom. You, however, will not rest until you regain yours. Min Yoongi, executive assistant, is already making too many waves.

When the noodle bowl is empty and the moon has almost reached its zenith, you upload a final user picture of a typical and inconspicuous Incheon sunrise holiday shot and create a new email address that you enter in the form at the bottom of the page.

Contact: christie.s.kwon@seoul-mail.com.

Subscribe to Six Rules Club and get access to unique information!

You click the blue subscribe button.

Taehyung comes along carrying three pastries in a plastic bag and a rucksack. You’re not the only one trying to survive the schedule.

“Not running out today!”

He touts, passing over a flyer after you held the elevator door open for him.

“Which floor?” you ask.

“On my way to the restrooms, five. Need a large stall.”

“Changing suits, huh?”

You point at the rucksack. Taehyung nods.

“New interns are coming, Jimin will be there, too. Need my A-Game.”

He might mess around with passwords, but hard work Taehyung does not shy away from.

“That’s good, and he’s getting busy. But what about this?”

“Take a look, just in.”

The flyer showcases Orbit Five’s new hardware at a glance, all nice in bright colors with detailed descriptions. Taehyung says it was in his lockbox this morning. Someone got it from Namjoon, and someone passed it on to him, and now he passes it on to you. What a giant hassle. It’s about time Namjoon returns to cut the chain of command short. The elevator almost gets to floor five that Taehyung, already fiddling with the rucksack to get his grey suit out, remembers something.

“By the way. Yoongi’s an early bird,” he laughs. “Seen the Mercedes park on the subterranean CCTV like fourty minutes ago.”

“I know, just walked right past it.”

“He’s different, isn’t he.”

“Very much so.”

The elevator doors part, revealing the ‘restrooms’ sign on the opposite wall. Taehyung tips his invisible hat to you.

“See you later ma’am, gotta stun the entourage with my suit.”

“Good luck,” you maintain, but Taehyung already speeds to the right. “Tell Jimin to take care of the interns for me.”

His desk is empty, but the noise from the end of the corridor is all too treacherous. You find Yoongi cramped into Hyuna’s office, surrounded by the IT guys, female interns from the marketing department, and the whole Development team. They sat him down on a desk between a scanner and laminating machine. Even if you thought the coffee from yesterday didn’t really do much, your blood pressure goes straight through the roof of SeoulTec in this very moment.

“Hyuna, everybody, what on earth!”

Yoongi looks rather apologetic, too caught in the middle. He’s in a silky blue suit today.

The marketing interns and IT guys chirp into your ears from all sides.

“Jimin told us that he’s the Min Yoongi!”

“Look at how he’s dressed!”

“You’re too good at hiring.”

You make your way past the mob to the laminating machine trying very hard to keep a straight face.

“Doubt it.”

Hyuna tugs at Yoongi’s tie as a brief retort.

“Really? You got us a rockstar secretary, hah. Need any condoms?”

You pull Yoongi from the desk and guide him toward the door under the jeers of the team.

“No thanks. Yoongi, lock the door when I’m not in the office yet and you arrive early. Lock the door... in general.”

Hyuna yells out loud.

“Ohh! Lock the door, Min Yoongi! Now she got a reason to use her own condoms!”

Thunderous groans and applause. The entire room is laughs. You strike a serious tone.

“What did I write about sexual harassment in the Golden Book.”

“Says the exec who takes her boy toy to Sunmi’s!”

“Do you even understand what sexual harassme—”

Hyuna clicks her tongue while you still speak.

“Oh shut up. Jimin even said you read Yoongi’s book and liked it a lotty dotty lot, hah.”

More laughter.

It’s like a police interrogation. Whatever you say will be used against you. Whoever has control over this enterprise, the CEO in supposed charge it surely is not.

Yoongi looks a little flustered and helpless when you shove him out into the corridor, past the interns who pat his back and blow him kisses.

Too bad you can’t fire every single person in this company. At least they kept Yoongi from being all by himself around your office. Hyuna’s everlasting chaotic nature might not be so bad, after all. But still, you see Yoongi scratch his head seemingly confounded.

“You okay?”

“I mean, I met the employee of the month. And it’s a lively place.”

Ever so diplomatic. You are the one to lock the door with your key card before dropping a pack of old business cards on Yoongi’s desk. That’ll preoccupy him with the contacts archive to fill in.

Sunmi rocks her Doc Martens against the counter, already looking as angry as you do. The pans, pots, and two grills of the stall are turned off except the deep fryer that spins around some fries. Children play in the park, but nobody seems to bother with the generous offer of a couple thousand Won for Japchae, chalked onto a small board by the side of the road with an arrow below, pointing toward the stall.

“We served him everything on a silver plate,” you stir your ramen when Sunmi hands it to you, then add a few spritzes of soy sauce. “Blueprints, codes, prototypes, and a reason to give us bad press just because Hyuna thinks I should fuck him. I’m scared to read tomorrow’s newspaper.”

“Oh fuck, man. You get an extra sandwich to stock up for the afternoon. With extra radish.”

“Sunmi, I pay. Your customers, recently...”

“The queue will come back, don’t worry.”

“I can send you some hungry people from our cafeteria. There are plenty.”

“That’s where they went, aye!” Sunmi giggles into her apron to hide her smile. She doesn’t like her crooked front tooth.

“They’ll come back to you once Seoul Daily sends us reporters asking about a sex scandal. Caused by the damn employee of the month.”

“Ah, Hyuna. All because the fucker Yoongi wrote that book and Jimin fell in love with it.”

“Yeah. That’s how I got those nineteen shit CVs. Jimin might as well have given me just that one application and said ‘hey I want this one just take him’. Like, no illusion of choice, you know.”

“That sucks. What did Yoongi write in his cover letter again?”

“Kind of, everything I wanted to hear. Good crisis management, written communication—”

“No, not that. What did he say about his real motivation to do the job, why he applied?”

“He just said he wanted to be of good service. Something super cheesy.”

“Sounds honorable given that Lexcom might have sent him.”

“I know, yeah.”

“So far your employees sound worse than he actually is. And I don’t get the feeling that he hides stuff. Except the Hannam thing.”

“He looked a bit distressed when he came back from that yesterday.”

“Oh really?”

“But not for too long.”

“Yeah, you told me, he bounced back from this rock star thing as well.”

“Hannam is different, though. He had to really hurry to get there and didn’t want to give any details. Just, none.”

“Really wanna know what goes down there. You know what I’m thinking?”

“Sunmi... he’s the spy, not us. We got into enough trouble already. It’s all exposed. We are the ones embarrassing ourselves. He doesn’t even have to move one finger. At this point, we can’t provoke it anymore.”

“We’re not spies when it’s good ole Sunmi driving around randomly to deliver some glazed chicken and rice, you know.”

“I know that you navigate Seoul very well.”

“And?”

“That makes me worry because you’ll do it.”

“Nothing easier than that, nobody will know I follow him except you.”

“Murphy’s Law ahead.”

“Murphy’s what?”

“Everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Happened in the last two days all over the place.”

“Fuck that law. We go by the Golden Book. And nowhere does it say in there that the sandwich lady can check up on what the secretary does in Hannam to come back weird like that.”

“The Golden Book has Code 20 listed. For stalking. I can’t break my own law there.”

“Code 19, 20, whatever. You said the codex is just in the way since he started and he’s using it against you already.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll completely disregard it. It’s made from experience. And stalking isn’t cool.”

“But you went through his webpage...”

“Like a normal person who’s interested. I still went by the Golden Book.”

“This situation doesn’t compare. Yoongi’s a very particular case. He needs new rules. And new rules we only get by new trial and error.”

“Sunmi, Hannam is taboo for you. Who knows where he really goes. It could be dangerous. Or think about it, he might not go there again tomorrow.”

“That’s why we should go now!”

“I’d rather have the extra sandwich. Sans mayo.”

“Y/N, you never take any risks! Such a bore!”

“When I take risks and don’t think twice, you know what happens. My signature on a contract with Lexcom’s eyes and ears embodied.”

Sunmi points at you with a ladle from the grill and her most mischievous of grins.

“Hey, at least they come with a silk suit on.”

“That’s true. But a stack of dynamite won’t turn any less dangerous with silver wrapping and a greeting card.”

“Oh man, loosen up. Hyuna, she isn’t very far from the truth. You’re kinda frustrated.”

“But I don’t take Yoongi as my punching bag for that. Even if he wasn’t affiliated with Lexcom.”

“Are you so sure?”

“I’m very sure.”

“Don’t pretend you never wanted to go out with Seokjin. Come on! And who said she wanted to throw hands the other day, punching bag much! Frustration, but denial as a cherry on top, huh.”

The deep fryer turns off. You get out your car keys and zip your jacket tight at the neck. A deep sigh.

“Sunmi, one last question. Should I hire you?”

“Sorry, what?”

“You do start to sound like the people in Hyuna’s office.”

The office door is locked. You pull out your key card, swipe, then enter. Yoongi gives you a sweet smile from his desk, although again, it seems like something has ruffled his feathers.

“About 40% done with the cards,” he types, a few double clicks follow.

“Is that a secretary ethics thing to always arrive early?”

“I mean,” he lets go of the mouse now. “You read the book, right.”

Sure you did. But the pages make your head spin.

“Yeah.”

“It’s courteous, I think. Letting someone wait is the worst thing you could do. And even when your superiors are still busy when you come around, a secretary, by default should be invisible.”

Sort of like Tom Cruise indeed.

“Yoongi, what I mean is that you can enjoy your break. I’ll give you coupons for the green tea cakes if you like, Jimin always hands them to me.”

“I’m really not used to this,” he blinks. “But if that’s your wish I will always enter five minutes after you come back from break.”

“Extra mile, I got that.”

“Extra mile. And thank you for the offer.”

You cram around in the drawers of your desk, then get out five coupons that had amassed over the last few months. Jimin doesn’t like green tea rolls and figures you do. Somehow you are glad that he didn’t get the idea that Taehyung could have a better use for them. Because now, you can get Tom Cruise to sit in the cafeteria.

“The cards in the archive can wait. Take one, make yourself comfortable in the foyer,” you hand him the little vouchers with a silver crane printed in every bottom right edge.

“You mean, I can prolong the break?”

“Of course. I have a meeting on floor two now anyways, won’t be good company.” You already usher him toward the door. “Greet Taehyung and Jimin if you see them walking around with the new interns. You can talk to them if you like.”

His aftershave starts messing with your head when the elevator goes down. You step out into the second floor headed to Eonjin’s office. Yoongi does an awkward tiny wave with the coupon in his hand when the doors close and the elevator drops to the ground floor.

Eonjin practically pulls you into her tiny, dim lit room after you knock.

“Y/N! Is #9828 around?”

She starts tugging at your suit from all sides.

“No, he’s— Hey, what are you doing!”

“Bugging devices,” she mouths, without actually speaking it out loud. She pats around, you turn by 360° until she turns the light up to full brightness. “Seems ok. Your cell phone is also in your office, right?”

You nod.

“Thank you for the hundred blueprints, lifesaver,” you sit down on the sofa opposite Eonjin’s messy desk, located underneath a giant infographic about the 4 Ps of marketing on the wall. Product, price, place, promotion.

“Hyuna will leave you alone when Namjoon returns,” Eonjin fiddles with a shelf now. All orange files. “And Yoongi’s foul play has an end. What’s he doing now?”

You shift back and forth in the sofa’s middle pit where a lot of decisions about SeoulTec had been pondered through the years.

“Triple threat. I sent him down to Front of House for cake, interns, and chatty Taehyung.”

“He’ll be preoccupied.”

“Backfired the last few times I tried this. At least he’s not in the office. He’s always there early.”

“Really, check your devices. Could be any type of sabotage. Smart phone in particular, it’s portable. Did he behave suspiciously so far? Saw him enter your office yesterday in passing, but I didn’t see much more.”

“He’s kind of overly formal and odd I guess. Increasingly so. He says things about being invisible and whatnot. And he drives to Hannam during lunch break but won’t say why, and comes back exhausted. All the work he does is super pedantic. He keeps taking notes about the most trivial stuff. It’s creepy. His website has a lot of talk about Switzerland and taxes on it. I signed up there.”

“What!”

“With a fake profile and blocked IP, and I didn’t do much on there. I just looked at tags and some entries that he wrote when he first made the website.”

“Was there something about Lexcom?”

“Nothing.”

“Be careful subscribing to that site, I’m telling you.”

“I’m not doing anything extraneous. And Yoongi isn’t too active on there.”

“He’s been marketing the shit out of that book, didn’t he?”

“So successfully that everyone in here has read it by the end of May.”

“Genius secretary you say.”

“Yes, that’s his moniker.”

“What a hot air balloon. Sucks that Namjoon won’t reply, I just wonder what the hell is going on in Daegu. I mean they launch the latest hardware idea and he can’t even get proper wifi? Even his private number seems perpetually blocked!”

“If he’s somewhere strapped to a chair at Hannam and Yoongi’s henchmen put a gun to his head...”

“You think he’d resort to such a method?”

“Wouldn’t exclude it. Yoongi’s politeness schtick doesn’t mean anything. Did you check Namjoon’s social media activity already?”

“Yeah. He didn’t post anything recently.”

“Then that’s more than suspicious. A Communications Officer without any tweets?”

“Yeah, we gotta do something.”

Sunmi’s ash grey Honda sounds like a smoke-burping dragon going down Hannam Bridge. The sky is clear. You’ve insisted that the Celine Dion playlist starts to get annoying at least three times yelling from the backseat, but Sunmi keeps on shaking her head and turns up the volume a bit more each time.

“It’ll make us look and sound casual. We’re just delivering some chicken, remember. Bitch, this is the Sunmi express!”

“Oh gosh, just stop swearing like that,” Eonjin complains from the passenger seat, still hiding behind a rather crease-laden map that was likely considered recent back in 1982. “Y/N, how the fuck did you two even meet?”

“You just swore yourself!” Sunmi laughs and stomps on the accelerator. Eonjin looks indignant.

“No, really!”

“I don’t know, even CEOs get an empty stomach?” you shrug, adjusting your shades and the extra large hoodie Eonjin gave you before departing from her office. The huge box of chicken resting across your thighs is way too hot to handle. You already hate this.

Sunmi keeps tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to the intonation of Celine Dion’s dramatic falsetto blaring from the speakers, backed up by heavy percussions.

“Y/N likes very spicy sandwiches. And nobody does 'em like I do in Seoul. Even her cat gets my food sometimes. Special edition!”

Eonjin buries her face in the Itaewon district on the map.

“Ah, I see, uh. Question answered.”

Celine Dion hits a perfect high note when the Honda exits the bridge. The cafeteria with Taehyung, Jimin, Hyuna, the chatty interns, and a couple greasy IT guys at full throttle about their god complex at the neighboring table is now but a distant, yet much-cherished dream.

The license plate of Yoongi's black CLS before you vanishes on the left behind the first block of toplofty skyscrapers when Eonjin pulls out a bag of crisps for 128₩ from her jacket. You can’t believe your own eyes.

“What are you doing!”

“Can’t use my 4 Ps of Marketing here. We’re out of office. Sunmi is right.”

“Right about what?”

“Oh, well.”

The bag pops open while Sunmi already twirls the steering wheel to the left, causing an abrupt turn. You hold on tight to the box of chicken while your seat belt does the rest until the chassis balances and Yoongi’s sleek Mercedes shifts into sight again on the main street. You sigh, push the shades further up your nose bridge. The things you do for Namjoon.

Even now, the Honda continues to burp and rattle to the sound of the orchestra whose impetus seemingly presses you against the backseat through its sheer ostentation, while in reality, it is the speed of the car.

“Ladies, I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What I meant by Sunmi is right was, we gotta look natural,” Eonjin says, shoving two potato crisps into her mouth at once. “We’re just delivering a box for Mister M.Y.G. and fuck him up. Want some? They’re really crunchy.”

“Not in the mood, I’m sorry.”

Sunmi turns down the volume at least one bit.

“Yoongi is the real snack we’re after anyways. I got so curious how he looks like.”

“You won’t be so curious anymore if we see him walk into a mob boss mansion in a minute,” you mumble into your hoodie.

“The usual pessimist,” Sunmi darts a quick glance across her shoulder to face the back seat, and chuckles. “And you’re not even the one with everything to lose.”

Eonjin looks as confused as you are.

“Sunmi, what do you mean?”

The music stops. Her finger stays on the pause button.

“My customers. They don’t seem to come back recently.”

“Oh...”

“Maybe it’s Wang’s new restaurant at the end of the street that opened last week. Their food is good. They don’t have sandwiches, but a lot of staff. I was happy when you showed up with Eonjin at my stall today. Takes my mind off things, we can have some fun.”

You reach your hands out to the driver’s seat, and rest them on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for that, Sunmi. That sucks big time.”

Eonjin puts down her map.

“Hey, why doesn’t anybody pull a huge marketing stunt for these sandwiches? I mean Y/N eats them every day!”

Sunmi is the one shrugging now.

“Nah. I’ve tried everything, really. If we get caught up in a scandal here they might sell again. Ya-hey!”

The Honda goes on burping and bumping music two skyscrapers later. Nobody in the rusty car really bothers looking at the black Mercedes driving in the parallel alley. Celine Dion is at full blast now. You have to scream against the ariose and pompous voice and orchestra.

“Sunmi, listen. You can start at our cafeteria any time!”

Eonjin loudly agrees.

“Yeah why not!”

But Sunmi doesn’t reply. Instead, the whole car comes to an abrupt stop. The seatbelt digs into your chest. You can’t breathe. Once the breaks kick in, both Eonjin and you slam back into your seats.

“Sunmi!”

“Shit!”

“What happened!”

“There was, someone crossed, the road, fuck!”

Eonjin cries out.

“Did we hit them?”

“No, but...!”

For one moment, you see nothing. No orientation. The seatbelt relaxes around your chest again. Your breath goes fast, but it’s back. Then, a wild knock against your window.

Shock.

The voice is all too familiar.

Sunmi pushes the pause button almost automatically. She's dead-eyed. Silence. And then—

“You fuckass pricks, I just got a new bag! What are you doing, hah? What's going on! Reckless driving motherfuckers! Who do you think you are, Honda twats! You're fucking ugly! Speeding through Hannam like dumb shits with the volume up!”

Hyuna’s bright red grimace of anger appears up close when you operate the crank to bring down the window. You take off your glasses for her to recognize you. Her eyes go wide.

She stumbles backwards.

“What! Sweetheart, you?! And, Eonjin?”

“Get, get in the car, Hyuna. Fast.”

You size her up head to toe. She seems alright. She didn’t fall. Sunmi successfully evaded her. Other cars behind you are already honking. You still feel so dizzy.

“Oh, okay, uh!”

You open the door, grab her shopping bags, and stuff them under the driver’s seat from behind. Hyuna climbs over your lap to the other side of the back seat, pulls her seatbelt down.

Eonjin sighs out, picking up the map she dropped.

“Hyuna, what the fuck! Use the traffic lights to cross the road!”

“I can’t walk there, I just had to carry a lot, goddammit! I had a good time shopping!”

Sunmi, eyes still wide in panic, looks back at you, then Eonjin, then Hyuna.  

“It’s the Kim Hyuna?! From your office, Y/N?”

“Yes, you idiot!” Hyuna promptly replies, stifling your voice before you can even raise it. “Are you Y/N’s chauffeur or what! You need to quit your job, hah!”

“Me, an idiot?!”

“Calm down now!” Eonjin grits. “Hyuna. This is Sunmi from the sandwich stall!”

More silence. Hyuna’s jaw drops.

“Are you kidding me!”

“We explain that in a minute. Sunmi, get going. We’re losing Yoongi. We gotta hurry.”

“Losing Yoongi? Sunmi driving? What’s going on here!”

Even now, Hyuna still wildly gesticulates around. You need to dodge her arms about three times. Sunmi restarts the engine. In about half a minute, the Honda rattles down the alley twice as fast now.

“Hyuna, listen. We suspect that Yoongi has some shady business going on,” you crank up your window again. “Something with Lexcom. He always drives to Hannam for something.”

“Really now? Lexcom?”

“Namjoon sent us Code 19 for Yoongi.”

“Yoongi? He’s a fucking spy?!”

“Looks like it. Namjoon’s social media went dead since he got hired. It's all very weird.”

“Huh, I thought Namjoon is in Daegu? With the prototype thing?”

“We’re not so sure about that anymore.”

“So, Namjoon thinks Yoongi spies on us for Lexcom. And you get into Sunmi's car to find him on lunch break, but instead! You try to run me over, what the heck— I thought you make good sandwiches and mind your own business! Clown.”

The Honda goes even faster. The polished Hannam apartments blur outside your window. You were wrong about Lee “Leadfoot” Sunmi being a decent driver.

“I’m not a clown! You were the one crossing the street from a dead angle! And I heard you’ve been on some bullshit in the office, too!”

Eonjin deliberately presses the play button.

Celine Dion’s ginormously loud and emotional outcry about how her heart will go on interrupts the conversation. After two seconds, Eonjin shuts down the CD player completely.

“Do I have your attention now?” she grumbles. “Stop fighting. The only clown in this game is still Yoongi. He got us into that mess. While we were arguing, he parked his car over there.”

She points toward a tower-like building at the far end of the street.

“Eonjin, my ears!” Hyuna just keeps on whining. "Celine Dion, what?"

You shush Hyuna with a quick hand gesture.

“Wait a minute, Eonjin! Yoongi parked?”

Sunmi slows down the Honda. She checks twice whether the music is actually turned off now.

Now it’s your jaw that drops virtually into the subterranean if it were actually below you.

The building where the Mercedes stands has a bright yellow sign at its very top. You recognize the lettering almost right away.

Yongsang Digital headquarters.

And at the entrance: The tall silhouette of Kim Namjoon.

“Four gals on a fucking trip, hah!”

“Quiet, Hyuna. Only Sunmi should be visible! They have their CCTV everywhere.”

Eonjin rustles behind the map, peering across the upper part just enough to observe the entrance.

“We’re not breaking in or something, calm down,” Hyuna wails in return. “Just want something to happen!”

“They just walked in like three minutes ago,” you murmur into your hoodie, then pass Sunmi the paper box of chicken from your lap. It’s kind of lukewarm already, as are your thighs. It’s a miracle that the container survived the heavy brake earlier with just a kinked upper corner. On the top lid, a name field with red felt marker scribbled right across in Sunmi’s typcial convoluted handwriting.

Cruise Chicken Delivery Service Itaewon. Fresh and red hot! For M.Y.G.

The Honda, even though its engine is turned off and the hand brake is on, rattles back and forth when the driver’s door pops open. The car still didn’t recover from the race through Hannam. You wonder whether it will even start again later.

“Thanks. Just stay wherever you are. And check your phone, Y/N,” Sunmi whispers, making sure her apron and cap sit right, and her name tag is horizontal before crossing the road.

While Hyuna tries to suppress her “yes, fuck it up!” cheers, both Eonjin and you look at each other like Jimin just singlehandedly hired CEO Jeon from Lexcom himself.

You're all too familiar with wrong decisions and regret.

And now that.

Sunmi casually struts toward the entrance, snapping her fingers, and moving to the nonexistent beat of Celine Dion’s I’m Alive that made the speakers burst when you went down Hannam bridge earlier.

“She’s the right kind of person to do this,” Hyuna snickers into her fist. “Just look at her.”

You want to crawl under the driver’s seat and pretend to be one of Hyuna’s new bags.

“She said we need new rules. Guess I have to abolish Code 19 and 20 altogether.”

“Come on, Y/N. Cruise Chicken Service from Itaewon is just delivering something! Only another day in the fast food business. Relax, hah.”

“We can get into serious trouble though,” Eonjin cowers down. “And Namjoon messing around at Yongsang Digital is not good at all either.”

“Yeah, he lied about being in Daegu. And they shook hands and smiled, I saw that. Namjoon was in his best suit. He had his bling bling watch on, you can see that shit from a mile away. And, look.”

You point at Yoongi’s Mercedes. Namjoon’s BMW parks right next to it, door to door.

Hyuna peeks outside her window from below.

“Snug, aren’t they. Becomes more intense with every minute, hah.”

You fiddle with your smartphone under the sharp eyes of Eonjin, going through both your emails, chats, and other messages. You hope that Sunmi typed in your number correctly. It was all in a hurry. You hate improvising.

“Any vital signs?” Eonjin asks, then ogles the BMW again.

“None yet.”

“Ah, probably a good sign, hm,” Hyuna flashes a smile. “None of them actually know her. The delivery thing is genius.”

You disagree.

“Should have called the police. Should call them now. Something is terribly wrong about Yoongi and Namjoon messing around at Yongsang. We only went for this because we thought Namjoon was in actual danger...”

“Police ain’t needed. The only thing—”

Your phone buzzes. Hyuna starts screaming.

“Oh gosh, oh gosh!”

Eonjin reaches her palm to the backseat to cover Hyuna's mouth.

“Don't yell! Open the message, Y/N, quick!”

Your nervous fingers need three taps until they activate the little window on the screen.

Comin’. Stay down. — S

Hyuna can’t stifle her second scream either even if Eonjin tries her very best to contain her.

“Sunmi made it!”

“Hush!”

You leave the message window open but duck down even more.

Eonjin gasps into her map herself when the doors of the building swing open.

Sunmi casually walks out with Namjoon on her left and Yoongi on her right. Both men head towards their cars. You can see that Yoongi carries the chicken box, half open.

The Mercedes reverses out of its parking space, first. Smooth and elegant. When Sunmi struts toward the Honda, snapping fingers, the BMW’s window winds down and Namjoon, sunglasses on and laxly steering the wheel, makes a short departing gesture. Sunmi tips her hat, then gets into the Honda's driver’s seat, wordlessly turns the keys, shifts gear.

“Jesus Christ, Sunmi, what happened?!” Hyuna pokes her arm.

Sunmi hands you her phone.

“Stay down until we’re out of the CCTV range. Click on the video. Explains everything.”

The engine takes four trials until it crackles again. Then, the Honda follows the BMW and he Mercedes downtown.

You press play on the video. A shaky view through a thin corridor appears. An edge of the chicken container shakes back and forth at the lower end of the frame. It’s Sunmi walking towards a room. The camera turns dark when she stuffs it into her apron. But the audio is still on. Two men are whispering from the side, or wherever Sunmi walks. You recognize them without a doubt. The voices are Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s. The camera stops shaking. Sunmi stays still.

“It’s just the way I thought,” Namjoon says. “Same shit, different company. Fed up. I can't do this any longer.”

“Do you think warning Y/N is a good idea already?”

Yoongi’s voice is even more hushed.

“We have concrete evidence. I think we should go for it. This is dangerous. And we can only pretend for so long. They’ll find out we’re from SeoulTec soon enough. You might be, but I’m not the most believable shareholder.”

“I don’t trust this either. Hoseok gave us an offer way too early. That's fucking strange!”

“Because he has to launch the software fast, he has no time. Hyuna and Eonjin are already busy finalizing the blueprints. Yongsang can’t wait. They have to use them first. We were the best and only opportunity for him.”

“I can’t believe that Hoseok managed to hack the innovations team.”

“We should have been more careful with the blueprints. Hoseok has already started using the codes, did you see that?”

“You mean, the presentation?”

Yoongi sounds confused.

“Yeah, you could tell they took basically everything Hyuna worked on and made it their own.”

“Sorry, missed that. I was too busy pretending I care about stocks. Hoseok has a keen eye, he’s asked me a couple detailed questions yesterday, I’m still sweating. If I blow our cover this is going downhill. We're so close.”

“The only thing that’s important is that I keep my social media clean of anything. They could hack into it within a minute.”

“But you did send Y/N the warning and Yongsang’s postcode, didn’t you, Joon? #9828.”

“Yes, but I couldn’t write anything else.”

“No wonder she’s not been doing anything about it yet. She misunderstood.”

“I guess— Damn, time is running out. Half past already.”

“Ditch that coffee, we need to get out of this kitchen.”

Rustling. Steps. The camera shakes even more. Loud commotion. It sounds like people bumping into each other. Yoongi sounds like he’s having a heart attack.

“Who, who are you!”

“Shut it! I’m Y/N’s friend! Sunmi!”

“Sunmi?! From downtown?”

“She sent me to look for Namjoon, we’re outside with Eonjin and Hyuna!”

“What!”

Yoongi still keeps his voice low, but you can tell the panic in his tone.

“Back to the kitchen! Come! There’s no CCTV in there!”

More rustling.

“Aren’t you from the sandwich stall Y/N always goes to? And why the chicken?”

“Yes, that’s how we planned to get in.”

“What did you just hear when we talked, Sunmi?”

“The whole conversation.”

“We need to get out of here.”

“But we still have to say goodbye to Hoseok, shit.”

“Hoseok?”

“That’s Yongsang’s CEO!”

“You fuckers look like a million bucks right now, come on! I give you the chicken, we walk out of here together like nothing happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at this box. We wrote ‘for Min Yoongi’ on it. This will look like you just guys ordered some food for lunch. Take the container and start eating! Where is this guy Hoseok’s office?”

“Third floor, it’s made out of fucking glass.”

“You walk past like you have to attend a meeting elsewhere, wave goodbye from a distance, and just munch. I take the staircase in the meantime. We meet at the reception, like ‘by chance’. And then exit the building, all three. Easy business. Y/N is still waiting outside, we’re in a delivery car.”

“Okay, we just pretend we all part ways first when we’re in the car. There’s CCTV outside.”

“And then we meet at my food stall together. It’s close to this new restaurant, Wang’s.”

"Oh man! Are you sure that all of that works?"

"Take the box, fucker. Go."

After a few more seconds, the video ends. No more storage left says a little flag at the bottom.

The deep fryer is working overtime. Eonjiin made sure everyone has their smartphones turned off. She made Namjoon and Yoongi check their suits for bugging devices thrice.

Sunmi, albeit barely concentrated on her work, stacks sandwich after sandwich together while everyone comes together at the counter. It’s pure mayhem until Namjoon gathers his words. He’s still shaking.

“I sent Yoongi to work for Lexcom four years ago. To find out what they’re doing,” he begins. “And this week, I made Jimin hire him to become your secretary, Y/N. While we both went to Yongsang Digital under the guise of being their new shareholders, simultaneously. That’s why we turned up with our best suits, the expansive watches, parked the cars right before the Yongsang building. So they would think we’re the richest blowhards around.”

“What! What do you mean! What was that for! Hah?”

Hyuna is redder than her suit and keeps on tugging at Namjoon's shirt. The sausages on Sunmi's grill start to look jet black because she doesn't turn them. Namjoon's voice becomes even more frail.

“Calm, please, stay calm. B-both times. I suspected they were trying to mess with our company. In the first case, I sent Yoongi because I knew that a scam was going on at Lexcom. It was too late, they already made the tax fraud allegation against us, and they launched the stolen product that we had been working on. This time, with Yongsang, I had to be faster and go there myself. I didn't want to make the same mistake. Of course I lied about being in Daegu. I was busy gathering information from how Hoseok was hacking into Hyuna’s database. Yongsang Digital has been doing the same thing as Lexcom four years ago. They stole shit from us. So I went undercover.”

“So that’s why you said your social media went dead...”

“Yeah. You didn’t understand the email I sent you?”

“No, I thought the postcode was Yoongi’s applicant number.”

“Oh fuck...”

Yoongi buries his head in the napkin Sunmi had handed him a minute ago.

“So— you thought I was spying on you?”

“Yeah, all the time. I thought you were doing some horseshit with Lexcom. And that you kidnapped Namjoon. That’s why I sent Sunmi to find and observe you.”

Hyuna builds herself up in front of Yoongi and pushes his chest now.

"Yeah! We were fucking worried! All because you two couldn't get your number right in that email? Shame on you! I almost died!"

"Hyuna, what?"

"Sunmi was speeding down Hannam lane like a maniac and almost knocked me over after I walked out of a boutique!"

Namjoon knocks his head against the stall counter now.

"What... have I done."

Yoongi wipes his forehead with the napkin now, and Hyuna lets go of him.

“I can’t believe it. Hoseok spies on us and steals codes, Namjoon and I spy on him in return, and you spy on us pretending to be a chicken delivery racecar driver. This industry is nuts.”

“We didn’t pretend! I’m actually a food delivery,” Sunmi pouts right away.

“But you made up another name, didn’t you. Cruise, uh, Delivery Service or something.”

“That was just a detail. You two jackasses, you pretended to be some loaded as fuck stock owners from the Wall Street! You were eating caramel cookies in Yongsang's designer break room! I thought vigilante justice is less luxurious!”

Yoongi looks mortified.

“Jackasses? We did it to protect Y/N’s business from another bankruptcy, all we have to do is alert authorities and they will jail Hoseok and his hackers! Namjoon and I tried to fit in there, that's all that was.”

You put down your sandwich and point at Namjoon with narrow eyes now.

“Hey, are you sure that they won’t accuse you of espionage yourself? You didn’t get into Yongsang through legal means, did you?”

“Ahm, we just walked in and said we’re interested in stocks after Hoseok’s product launches. I mean, Yoongi actually has stocks in Switzerland! That the product is made from a code that Hyuna made? Hoseok pretty much told us himself, we didn’t have to do anything!”

“Yeah. He invited Namjoon and me for his short presentations. And we saw that most of the software design had SeoulTec written all over it. Hoseok is too arrogant not to keep it a secret. Anybody who would have walked in there as a guest listener would have found out that he stole the codes!”

“If that guest listener knew what we develop here,” you raise a brow at Yoongi now.

“We’re 'stockholders', we know how each software company works.”

“Thanks to that, we have an issue with the police. One glance into their data bank and they will know Yoongi works as my new secretary, and Namjoon as our CCO. We fucking trapped ourselves.”

“Wait a second,” Eonjin puts down her fries. “If I can detect evidence on my PC that they hacked us, I can be the one who reports them. The police will never know about the stockholder thing when Namjoon and Yoongi retreat from Yongsang Digital without a trace. I mean, you used different identities, right? How did you get to know each other, anyways?”

"Same basketball team in high school," Namjoon clasps his hands. "I kept up with Yoongi for years during our business majors. We even made a start-up once, that was auditing. Ten years ago, but it failed. Then I found out about Lexcom's scam when I was already working at SeoulTec. Sort of by chance. So I called him up again, and suggested that he should go to Lexcom to investigate. Yoongi was a rising secretary at the time, he just came to Korea from his time abroad in Switzerland. Of course, Lexcom hired him. And for the identities we had for the stakeholders make believe — We were a bit, say inspired by the initials of our pets. Ryan and Holly."

You have to bite your tongue at that. Christie S. Kwon dot fucking com.

“And yeah," Yoongi puts down his napkin. "We used fake IDs. Namjoon called himself Mister R. from New York and I was Mister H. from California. They didn’t even ask about anything else, I just flashed them my Switzerland stocks on a tablet, the car, how I worked at Lexcom four years ago, and Hoseok already asked us to join. He was easy to persuade. He offered us the stocks. They thought we wouldn’t know about SeoulTec’s innovations because we supposedly came from the states. They just rolled the presentation and bragged about their stolen software to impress us.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes.

“So much about legal. You really went in with fake IDs? You're both a fucking mess. But, how unprofessional can Yongsang Digital be!”

"Better than actual theft. I mean, we just showed them my stocks, watched a presentation, and put on an American accent. We didn't have bad intentions, it was just a reaction to when Namjoon spotted malware in the system last week. We knew someone was extracting our blueprints. But we couldn't prove it was from Yongsang yet. So we decided to take matters in our own hands. That's why I showed up at peculiar times in the secretary office, too. We were just demonstrating interest in Hoseok's stocks, nothing wrong with that."

For some reason, that, too reminds you of Sunmi's motto. Well, well! We're just delivering. Fresh and red hot!

“At least that’s good,” Eonjin says, “that you didn't use your own names. We can work with that. I say, we focus on how I found out how they stole the codes, and send you two on vacation while the investigations are running. We need proof for the malware, too. Then we're good to go.”

“True. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find evidence about what they stole,” Hyuna munches away at her sandwich. “The base code will probably be damaged in some parts where they attacked and extracted files.”

Namjoon nods at that.

“We know exactly which blueprints they used, too. When Hyuna can prove that her email inbox was leaked, and which ones of the top secret blueprints were stolen, Yongsang will get fined and Hoseok will be put on trial for being the fraud he is.”

Hyuna’s angry red cheeks turn back when she hears that.

“My inbox, too? Fuck 'em! And when do the Yongsang scammers plan to launch my software, then?!”

“In about two weeks,” Namjoon rubs the back of his neck. “That’s a month before we want to bring our prototype on the market. We also have information about how Yongsang cartelizes with Lexcom to make it a successful launch.”

Another collective jaw drop. The sausages are already starting to turn into coal, emitting pitch black smoke. Even Sunmi puts down her ladle. You are the first to say just about anything.

“You’re only saying that now?! They work together?  Joon, don’t fuck with me. What on earth is going on. What is Lexcom doing!”

"I know. It further complicates things. That could be the lawsuit of the century," Namjoon cracks his knuckles, bites his lower lip. No eye contact.

“They’ll just fix the price," Yoongi adds. "Yongsang's profits will skyrocket. Probably into several trillion Won. They have the industry in their hands now.”

The memory comes back. Your mother, with the newspaper in her hands. Crying. The reputation of years, the trust from clients, all gone in one day. You knew exactly why Namjoon did not mention a single word about hiring Yoongi.

Now you're the one to get red in the face.

“With our fucking product!”

“Yeah, Y/N. It's kind of a dilemma. And we don't have much time left." Yoongi stirs in his fries with a sigh. "I thought we could do this more, I mean, discretely. I need a giant cup of herbal tea."

"I just can't believe it," you reply. "Yongsang stole our blueprints and cartelizes with Lexcom. Where do we even start.”

"At least it's not too late. But we have to do something about both enterprises."

"And I'm, sorry," Namjoon adds. "We should have figured that the postcode was the same as Yoongi's applicant number. You should have known earlier."

That’s what Jimin meant by leaving your boxing gloves in the ring. This is the ring. It was never Yoongi. Not one second. He was the good guy, and Jimin never lied. He was the one who gathered all the information about the tax allegation, too, in order to warn Namjoon four years ago. Maybe there was hope.

"Don't be," you say. "It was an unlucky coincidence. And you had to stay in the shadows about it anyways. Otherwise, Yongsang would have known. I mean, and we still have to be careful."

Hyuna brings her fist down on the counter, almost knocking over the mayo.

"These fucks!"

Eonjin nods. She's chewing at her nails now.

"That's surveillance for you. If it was only Yongsang's hacking, we could alert the police. But with a whole cartel. It'll be tough. We're already neck deep in trouble ourselves. We're not any better. Cruise Delivery Service fucked up."

"Then we can't do worse, can we?" Hyuna asks.

Eonjin wraps her hair around her head twice to cover her face. Her head limps down, and not even Namjoon's pat on her shoulder seems to help.

"No, we really can't," she sniffles.

"Then," you take out your phone, "we use our last and best weapon."

"What do you mean?"

"Fuck Murphy's Law. We use it to our advantage. He'll destroy everything."

Sunmi blinks at you, while Yoongi tries to get a glance at the number on your screen.

"Who? Y/N, who?"

The speaker first beeps a few times, then, a cheery voice emerges, next to an avatar with a man smiling impossibly bright on your screen.

"Hey, hey grump! Can I help? By the way, think I found out which aftershave it is, did an actual Google search. And the new interns, oh! They are mighty, mighty fine. Oh yeah. Ask T, he's super in love as well. They were all saying how handsome he is, they got manners. If you still think Yoongi's an ass, you might as well grab yourself one of those. There's about fifteen of 'em. The exact opposite of the IT nerds, can you believe it? That's the HR dream. I don't know how you survive that much stress without fucking anybody to dust. Man, I could use some attention as well. You're so glad, got dozens of cute people on your corridor. Anyway. What did you want to ask, Y/N? How's Christie S. Kwon doing?"

Hyuna taps Eonjin's arm in the background with a cackle.

"He's the right guy for that, just look at him. Sexy, hah."

You only see Jimin's backside when he slips off Namjoon's passenger seat in what possibly are the tightest pants anybody at SeoulTec has ever worn. The passenger door slams shut, as does the driver's where Namjoon just entangled his long legs and stepped out, and you're alone again, with Eonjin and Hyuna giggling to your either side on the back seat. You hear Yoongi's door close just a few seconds afterwards. Then, the entrance door to Yongsang Digital headquarters is cranked open.

The back seat is much broader than the Honda's and super sleek. Even Sunmi, surrounded with a bunch of soda cans, babbling and cracking jokes from the trunk has enough space to stick her head out. Namjoon was right that all four of you should get into the BMW together. While Hyuna bargains with Sunmi to give her one of the cans, Eonjin continuously strokes her hair back, then puts it into a ponytail, takes the scrunchy off again, and starts from the very beginning.

"Nervous, Eon?"

"Well, let's hope Hoseok isn't that heterosexual," she peers through the window, phone in her left hand ready on dial. The windows are gladly darkened, so either of you doesn't have to duck down now. "I pray for the day that I can actually use my 4Ps once. I feel like Tom Cruise and this mission is impossible."

"No guy is hetero when it comes to Jimin," Hyuna wiggles her eyebrows, an open lemonade can in her hand now. "I think even Taemin has a big crush on him."

Sunmi, a brand new 5,000 Won bill rolled together and clamped behind her ear, makes big questioning eyes from behind you.

"Wait, who's Taemin?"

"Works at maintenance," Hyuna explains. "Yesterday, you won't believe it. He tried to fix Jimin's printer even if there was no problem at all. I think he just dropped by to get charmed."

You clear your throat at that.

"Hope keeping track of that didn't make you neglect that task."

Hyuna quickly stiffens her posture and puts her chin up, arms akimbo.

"Y/N. Really? I'm the employee of the month. I got this done in ten minutes. If Jimin lets his eyes sparkle and Yoongi can get the USB stick in the right spot, hah. Then we can open a glass of champagne at Sunmi's in thirty minutes."

"Would love to," Sunmi puts her thumb up. Eonjin keeps on staring at her phone.

"Nothing yet, they've been inside since noon."

"Five minutes almost. They should be in Hoseok's office by now. Operation Gentleman's Essentials begins."

Hyuna almost chokes on her lemonade.

"Oh Lord! That name cracks me the fuck up!"

You shake your head.

"Let's hope the same doesn't apply to Yoongi. I get the feeling that he will lose his cool soon. He's a secretary, not 007. He likes cream cookies, green tea rolls, and Swiss chocolate. I wonder why Namjoon could persuade him to do all these jobs just to save SeoulTec in the first place."

"He might not be James Bond. But Mister Yoongipenny!" Sunmi raises her own soda can. "Don't worry."

Hyuna clinks her nails against the soda can and casts a frivolous gaze toward you.

"You're concerned about him, hah. The crane lady and the secretary rockstar, I see. I give you condoms anytime, that would be the cutest dick ever to hop on. Or wait, this is just a fling, isn't it. After you cool off, maybe you like Sunmi? She's got edgy shoes and a good swagger when she dances!"

"Hyuna, you're inappropriate again. My private endeavors aren't yours to decide. I don't need suggestions when they're that aggressive. I decide for myself."

You try to focus on the entrance of Yongsang Digital. But you know that there is nothing to see anyways.

"Sorry, but your sex life is the only thing that worries me. The entire department. You need something to improve your moods. I'm always half joking, you know... but you always seem so lonely and dissatisfied. Sometimes people need a nudge, ya see. I know what's best for you."

"No. And why do you care about that? You've almost ripped Joon's shirt to shreds and unleashed a mob on Yoongi. I don't know who needs some mood management in here."

"We all do," Eonjin taps around her phone, looking for messages. "Some Swiss chocolate wouldn't be a bad idea right now. And the champagne."

"Yeah, that'll do. My grill needs a bit of cleaning but I can make us some fried tofu noodles, I got kimchi in stock as well. Namjoon was so stressed yesterday, he ate three sandwiches and two bowls of vegetable rice. I didn't have that much revenue in a week."

"Operation Gentleman's Essentials could cause the SeoulTec stock crash of the decade so we need that money," Eonjin exhales. "I can't even think about a marketing campaign to save us with, I don't know, just about any new product. Think we need to ask for the PR department to fix it all up in advance."

"Don't think too much ahead," Hyuna says. "But you're right... this all isn't very healthy."

"Start with the soda cans," you raise your brow, "maybe it's that what makes you wanna mess with my sex life."

"Man, he calls you grump for a reason, Y/N! You're so negative. Can you be any less stubborn?"

"Dissatisfaction is the reason new things are made. Supply and demand. If I wasn't dissatisfied, I'd not be driven. Am a CEO."

Hyuna laughs.

"More like, a cat person."

Eonjin puts down her phone, screen still turned on, but still empty of any commotion.

"She's right about dissatisfaction though. The supply and demand. It's what Lexcom and Yongsang don't see. That's why they have to steal our shit. They're cowards and don't know what customers want."

"I thought the same," you nod, "they also want to skip the process of observing customers. They take our results to skip the efforts. Just to release is earlier and get the money. I think this is more insidious than anything Cruise Delivery Service has ever done."

"If they actually still exist," Sunmi puts down her soda can. "I think we've done our part."

Hyuna goes into pouting mode again.

"Eh. I'm already feeling bored. The boys club is out there doing shit and we hide in a car, hah."

"Waiting for SeoulTec to go bankrupt. And my damn sandwich stall."

You pat Sunmi's arm in return.  

"You know what I wanted to say before we almost had the accident? I made up my mind about it."

"Huh?"

"If SeoulTec makes it, Sunmi, you're hired. I mean, it's just a possibility, you don't have to."

"What!"

"You know... it'd be great to have the Sunmi Express Takeaway where the city feels alive. I think a lot of people would enjoy it."

"But, but—"

"Take your stall with you. We have enough space at the entrance. You can do whatever you like there."

"But, doesn't it look shabby? Your building is very modern."

"Don't give a fuck. You can access and use our cafeteria kitchen as well. Front of House will like you, I promise. Taehyung will print out flyers of your menu and hand them out. You don't deserve to be beaten by Wang's kitchen. You need a queue. When your grill is back in good form, of course."

"T—Taehyung? The reception guy you talked about, with the nice suits?"

"Yeah, he's cool. Unless he gives out passwords to potential spies. But that's another story."

"You mean Yoongi, hah? Come on Y/N, he didn't turn out to be the threat you thought he would be."

"I just wonder why he did all of this for Namjoon."

"They're basketball buddies. Didn't they create a start-up, too?"

"Doesn't really explain why they playing their Mister Yoongipenny game by themselves."

"Maybe Namjoon likes you? Maybe he likes Yoongi?"

"Even if either was true. That's not enough of a reason. He even lied about Daegu just to be at Yongsang."

"Whatever drives him, I just hope it won't get in the way with Jimin's big day."

"That, too. Eonjin, is there any message at all?"

"As with Sunmi, that's probably a good sign. None."

"Oh I went through hell in there! I had no time to call. Even my video was bad, I was lucky the phone didn't fall out of my apron!"

Hyuna already disagrees.

"You did a good job, it was all improvised! I wish I could dance like you."

"Hyuna, you did some proper tap-dancing on our last Christmas party in the office, don't complain," Eonjin laughs, for the first time that seems like an eternity.

"That was fun. Maybe that's why they voted me as employee of the month later?"

"In May? That's a delay of several months!"

"I was never good at statistics. Like causation and correlation, hah."

"Not so sure anymore whether what you put on that USB actually helps us," Eonjin says. "What exactly did you make her programme, Y/N?"

Hyuna sulks in her corner now. Employee of the month — devastated.

"In the words of Kim Taehyung," you smile to yourself, "When your opponent is better, all that's left is to sabotage. Hyuna didn't do a bad job, I'm sure. It's not about statistics."

"Oh really, you liked the result?"

Hyuna looks more hopeful now.

"Didn't have all the time in the world to review it, but I thought they were great at first sight. I will when Hoseok wakes up to the biggest stock crash in the history of software."

Sunmi can't believe it.

"All just through one USB stick?!"  

"Not really. We rather make use of Hoseok's own shortcomings, he'll sabotage himself. All it needs is a little spark. That's what I made Hyuna programme."

"What shortcomings do you mean?"

"Greed. Arrogance. Impatience," you count each off by a finger. "You'll see what happens. The trick is simple. It's not even classic malware."

"For real?" Hyuna asks.

You affirm.

"Yes. All it does is infuse Hoseok's news feed with fake articles how Lexcom is developing their own software, one with a bigger budget, and it looks strangely like his. Meaning ours, our stolen prototype, but you get what I mean."

"What? You think that works? How is Hoseok going to believe that, hah?"

"That's where Jimin comes in. He plays a filthy rich Silicon Valley innovator working at the enterprise 'Chim Parks' who can present Hoseok a new, improved software."

Sunmi scratches her chin, looking a little lost in the trunk now.

"But, Y/N... that doesn't make any sense!"

"Because it doesn't stop there. Hoseok will not only believe Lexcom stole the same software and now competes against him. Once Jimin presented the Silicon Valley software to him, he will give Hoseok a free trial version in exchange for the stolen prototype data. This trial version happens to be infused with the faulty codes from what, have a guess!"

"Uh... No idea."

"Codes from Namjoon and Yoongi's failed start-up product. We call it Di-On 2.0. That was Jimin's idea."

Sunmi looks completely startled.

"What the fuck!"

"Hoseok will trade us the stolen prototype back hoping that he'll get Jimin's fancy software to compete against Lexcom who supposedly betrayed him. The consequence being that both the cartel gets broken and we get all the data from our prototype back."

"Do you really think Hoseok would trade our software back against Namjoon's?!"

"We made it a free trial so he gets interested. Well, hopefully. But making this trade will increase how much he wants it, but doesn't really have to pay a price. The fake news articles that we feed him with will let Hoseok think the old software is basically worthless since Lexcom is working on it with a bigger budget. Which he can't keep up with. Yongsang's revenue isn't the highest."

"Probably why they're stealing shit in the first place!" Hyuna points out.

"Yes, exactly. So Hoseok will take what he gets now. Jimin sends him Di-On 2.0 from his tablet, make big eyes and raves about how awesome it is..."

"And what about the USB stick, Y/N?"

"That's Yoongi's task. While Namjoon and Yoongi involve Hoseok in conversation in the kitchen before their negotiations start, Yoongi quickly infiltrates Hoseok's office. He just says he has to go to the toilet. But instead, he brings fake news onto Hoseok's PC."

"But, the CCTV!"

"Yoongi will change into janitor standard clothes that he wears under his suit," you explain. "Taemin gave it to him, they are used in every enterprise. So Yoongi can act like he's cleaning Hoseok's office."

"And then he hurries back to the kitchen with his normal clothes back on," Hyuna adds.

"Yes, and he does change in the restrooms."

Sunmi clasps her hands, nervous.

"That takes a long time, ugh."

"Yes. That's why Jimin will unleash his most demonic charm demon during the conversation in the kitchen to buy time. When Jimin starts talking, literally hours can pass. You can't even do anything against it. It's not his forte at SeoulTec. But today it is."

Hyuna puts up a hand for a high five.

"Jimin's gonna talk Hoseok's ears off while Mister Yoongipenny becomes Mister Maintenance and gets the USB in place!"

"That's the plan," you smack your palms together. "With Mister Yoongipenny!"

Sunmi sighs out loud.

"So complicated!"

"Everything can go wrong. But as long as Jimin can convince Hoseok to try and use the shitty start-up codes, we've won."

Sunmi looks even more nervous now.

"But why?"

"Hoseok will be in a hurry to recode the new software for his launch. He can't release the same one as Lexcom when they have more money. It's impossible to fix the price now. He'll realize too late that Di-On 2.0 is so old, it's not compatible with any hardware on the current market."

"In short: We get our prototype software back. While Yongsang releases Di-On not knowing that it's super outdated and whatnot. All while Hoseok thinks Lexcom backstabbed him, and he severs ties between them because of it."

"Meanwhile SeoulTec can sell the software that was hacked and taken from us but we got back because Yoongi is a good cosplayer, Jimin talks a lot, and Namjoon has coded some real bullshit ten years ago that is so bad, it'll make Yongsang's stocks crash."

Eonjin bites into her sleeve not to comment on that, but eventually, still does.

"No PR campaign can save him from that embarrassment."

Footsteps. Besides the ubiquitous typing noise from the secretary room, you can hear Eonjin, Jimin, and Hyuna cackle in the hallway. It takes about five minutes until the chatter dies down and doors click in their locks. Then, eerie silence to your ears that are used to something fairly different.

Earlier in the cafeteria, Namjoon lamented almost endlessly at the neighboring table, then to Sunmi behind the counter about how the 'Three Cackling Musketeers' had simply taken the liberty of using his cherished tablet to monitor today's stocks. It seems to you that they didn't give it back yet, and how would they.

Yoongi keeps on typing with an occasional stop to pick up a cookie from the plate next to him. He looks a little funny with stuffed cheeks because he mindlessly bites off too much at once. Email after email on your screen disappears once you've written the obligatory two liners as a reply each, and the phone comes to rest. You enter the secretary room not so much ill at ease, but with a certain relief in your voice.

"Set. The prototype will be out by Tuesday. You did a good job."

Yoongi swallows, shoves away his notes, closes a few windows on his desktop fast.

"Then what about a break, foyer?" he says.

"Cafeteria's packed, the interns like it there. Must be the new sandwiches or Sunmi's entertaining every customer as usual. But we can finish earlier, actually."

"Oh! And Taehyung must be busy, too? Yeah, sure, Ma'am."

"He is. We can head to the park or something. Three minutes to walk. Downtown isn't too crowded today. If you like."

You pick up your trench coat and bag, the car keys, too. Yoongi swiftly lifts from his chair as well.

"That sounds good. It's a nice place, at the lake. But you don't have to. I know you barely have any free time already. Those were a lot of phone calls earlier."

"You say that as if you were a waste of time and the stocks are more important than my employees. Do you really know whether I think that way, about you?"

"No, uh— Of course not, ma'am," he shakes his head quite vehemently. You tinker with the keys.

"Hyuna often crosses the line. But, I think she was right that I need some more balance."

"More balance?"

Yoongi takes his own fitted coat from the hanger. Bedizen, as always. His suitcase stays next to the desk.

"For private life, and such. And I think the park lake is nice, too."

"We have to sneak out though, I think. Somehow."

"Foyer, you mean. Yeah, we can't go through there. That's a ruckus. Subterranean is better. Don't forget your suitcase."

"Oh, right!" Yoongi takes off his fine blazer to have one layer less, grabs the suitcase. May is being all too moderate. His shirt is in creases underneath. He tries to smooth at least the sleeves. "I'm sorry," he says, "I look a little stressed."

You shake your head.

"Since we got news from the stocks, you're less tense. I don't think you look bad either. You just had no time to iron. Won't make you a bad secretary. You're still up against Joon in the employee of the month poll, aren't you?"

Yoongi laughs a little. His eyes are downcast. Pretty lashes.

"People won't see anyway if you wear the coat," you add, swipe the key card at the door. "Unless you're not wearing it, that is."

The door glides open now. Your tone is unequivocal.

"Is it your wish I won't?"

"If you don't mind to have the creases— for my eyes only."

The corridor is as silent as before. You shut the door with a bleep. Yoongi faces you in earnesty. His eyes are fervid.

"I don't."

"Possibly less."

"Less?"

"I mean less than a shirt for my eyes only."

"Don't mind, either."

"Indeed so?"

"Everything for you, boss."

"You'll have to tell me about the Six Rules in depth."

The elevator ejects you into the subterranean entangled, Yoongi’s shirt is half open. Orbit Electrics knew what they were doing when they made the entire hoist extra slow. You're glad Taehyung and virtually everybody else is busy in the foyer and not going up and down from floor to floor.

Yoongi hums into the kisses so pliantly. He's buttoning down for two inches more. Your hands rest calmly at his neck. The mirror that had given you a good view of his backside has a few streaks on eye level now. The pitfalls of men's hair gel and getting pinned against a shiny surface. But you don't care. The maintenance heading for Jimin’s printer tomorrow always starts their tour scrubbing here, and they don't bother with speculations. The elevator doors are already closing.

“Whose?” Yoongi asks, parting from your lips apace.

“Your car. Wanna see you clean it up later. And drive home with my scent in it.”

“That’s a really good argument. What scent is it going to be, anyways?”

“Whatever you tickle out of me. Secretary job.”

Yoongi can't hide the arrant amusement on his face. At least, he tries to.

“But that’s nothing I could scrub off afterwards with a quiet conscience.”

“Then I’ll see you crawl and climb around in my office instead. Buckets and all.”

“You like when I clean something for you, I'll write that down.”

"Later, Romeo."

The black windows block out the neon gleam from the subterranean lighting on the ceiling. Yoongi, lips locked again, has to fumble for the button thrice until he finds and pushes it. The four lamps of the Mercedes switch on as does the ice blue ambient lighting of the dashboard. Now, the back seat delves into a gleam. To your surprise, the lights even coruscate a little, as if someone lit a candle.

“Comfy,” you retreat, rearrange on his lap.

“We can have music, too.”

“You know what I like.”

Now, your eyes are blithe.

“Rule Number I. Go the extra mile showing respect to a superior. What genre? I have everything.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“Hm?”

“Jazz. Soul. Maybe?”

“Comfy and groovy it is,” he plants a kiss on your collarbone, then bends to the driver's seat to mess around with the touchscreen. A few seconds later, trumpets, bass, and percussion resound. Yoongi gives a testing smile.

“Use Me. Bill Withers, August 1972. B-Side: Let Me In Your Life.”

“Is that supposed to be subliminal?”

“If you want, it will be, Ma’am.”

“Then, can I use you, Min Yoongi?”

“Beg you to.”

He's nestling with his hands around your hip when he slips into the backseat again. You're detangling your hair. He's been an avid kisser.

"What was Rule Number II again."

“Know how to please the senses if I'm not mistaken, boss.”

"That sounds interesting. Are you sure it's not Sex Rules instead of Six Rules?"

"I've pondered it. Glad to interest you very much."

"Pants off, Romeo."

His belt clicks open already.

"Just a second."

And he shoves the hem to his ankles. No way for your eyes to miss his boxers bulging out center. Yoongi notices. You yourself are striping down the elastic of your waistband, and get rid of the trousers in celerity to hop on his crotch.

"Any thighs spare today?"

"By all means, help yourself."

"What's the safeword, Mister?"

"I suggest your blood group."

"Oh, zero. That's good."

"Yes."

"Then we use yours or 'go on'. AB, I mean. Then B is for pause. A is for more."

Your neck is brimming. Yoongi's lips are hot and glossy on it. Between your legs, Yoongi's knee grazes at your pubic bone. Easing forward sends a tingle up your spine. His slimming to the calves while shapely at the thigh where you shove up his boxers with your grinding. It leaves a mess, and your own panties disheveled either way. Yoongi is too busy purling into your skin and lapping at it. Only his thigh muscles react to your movement. They clench and declamp, erratic within the rhythm that your hips gyrate to orienting itself at the cadence of the song until the trumpets abade into silence again. A new tune starts with a silent piano.

"Please the senses, what else is there?"

“Rule Number III. Safer is better,” he murmurs into your hair.

Yoongi's lips are cerise. The bulge at your core is still waxing.

"Not planning on maternity leave either."

Yoongi hums again.

"Sorry, driver's seat."

Reluctantly, you glide off his lap to the side when the piano goes into a forte. Yoongi rummages in the depot of the car dashboard until he draws a magnum packaging out of it. Before he can open the wrapping, you tap his shoulder.

"You know what?"

The tone in your voice seems to sway him pressing the stop button of the music.

"Any concern, Ma'am? We can always stop."

"Just an idea. Fancy a more sophisticated spot for us? We can do something stupid and have fun." You pick the condom from his fingers, nod towards the pedal. "I bet you didn't miss that the subterranean has not just an exit."

"It goes downwards over there, doesn't it."

Yoongi looks toward the direction of your car, parking next to a barred descent to a lower plane. It's a dark area.

"It does. To my personal strongroom."

"That one should be 5-0-6 on the CCTV in your office, isn't it?"

He saw it passing the table where the cookies are led out.

"Nobody else has the footage. I can easily shut it off, too. Same goes for opening the bars. All electronic."

"Rule Number IV. Your bosses' preference will always be worthwhile. Sometimes it's more than just strawberry and chocolate rice cakes."

"Well-remembered. Shall we go?"

Yoongi laughs.

"What would Hyuna say? When out of all people, you are the one to suggest that we can do something fun and stupid, that's a must."

You wave around the condom between to fingers. Yoongi turns the key. The blue lights turn slightly orange now that the engine purrs. He maneuvers the car out of the parking lot, then past your Porsche. You can see how veiny his hands are at the steering wheel. Something must have gotten his blood going.

The Mercedes parks by itself in the empty plateau. You decode the CCTV from your phone, shut it down. Equally, you open the round vault door with a face recognition. Exiting the car, you leave behind your own blouse and Yoongi his boxers, shoes, socks. The only thing you take with you is your phone and the condom. Yoongi has kept his tie on. The rest he stripped off faster than in Yongsang's bathroom. You notice that he's clean-shaven. Not a stubble. Maybe lasered. Maybe waxed. Whatever secretaries do nowadays in their regimen. But you have to redirect your eyes since the door is bleeping. A timer to open within thirty seconds.

"We don't have piano music in there," you turn the door's wheel clockwise. "That's the only thing I don't like."

"I can play the piano."

"You do?"

"Can give you a taste with my fingers."

With a massive boom, the door opens inward, as does the tight grid behind it. You tug Yoongi in, switch on your phone screen for light.

"A taste... Have you seen what's dripping down my thighs already?"

"Doesn't mean there can't be more of it."

"Good argument." You rotate the light switch on the wall until the quadric room brightens into a deep yellow. The door churns back into its round frame. You swipe into your phone to keep the locking bolts retracted as they are. A row of deposit boxes rows up to the ceiling on the left-hand side. "Just need a bed to sit on."

You trace the lockers, counting.

Yoongi smirks.

"I suggest starting with #9828."

He can't be smirking just because it's his number. He's seen you like what you saw stiff against his abdomen.

"The floor's too hard for you. I'm going for something else. I sort until #1000 only anyways, this isn't like Lexcom's vault."

"It soon will be when stocks crash."

You hand Yoongi the condom to roll on, browse the shelves where gold bars are locked in behind glass until you reach the other section of the vault, quick. Behind a grey lattice, cranking to the side, you pick up bank notes, strip off their red paper wrapping, and toss them toward Yoongi.

"Soft enough to get fucked on?"

"Softer than cream," he sticks a bill between his teeth with nonchalant fingers.

"Rascal."

You empty five, six, seven, eight more box contents onto the floor. The room already starts to take up a very different scent. Not of bank notes, but a familiar aftershave. Sandalwood. Without counting, you estimate that there are about 200 Million Won on the floor, Yoongi and his net cash excluded. Both your ankles are already disappearing when you wade toward him, sit down on his chest. The back of Yoongi's head sinks into the paper a little too much for your taste. That's what the tie is for. Pulling at it lifts him ever so slightly towards you, although you realize his Adam's apple doesn't like it. So you loosen the sling. Yoongi's sleek bangs fall out of his face. That's not happened before so far.

"Could be a good ride without a fancy car, could it."

You're tantalizing. Yoongi's chest is hot under your thighs, between them.

"Don't need a fancy car as long as you fancy me."

"Cheesy, aren't you?"

"It's a lifestyle."

"I wanna go for it. Any risks involved?"

"I'll keep your pussy wet."

You gird him closely with the tie once more.

"Quite an ambitious secretary."

"Doesn't mean I won't start slow."

The bills rustle around when Yoongi brings his hand up. The veins have seem to bulk out even more into a blue relief.

"A piano session, I see. You may. Blood group: AB."

Yoongi bites his lower lip. Your eyes glaze over observing him so closely, doing his work. Finger tip after finger tip testing which one fits best on your clit. He's monitoring your reactions after each rub and prod, and he has a lot to see.

Whatever lube issue you ever thought running into, fucking someone after such a long time, has proven itself to be unfounded. It's his thumb that smoothes into you with the most ease. It's slightly broad and angular. It's the best access, while the rest of his fingers can rest on your pubes and massage into it with broad, sweeping circles. You thought he'd be silly about this. He has no intents of retracting his thumb.

You graze his collarbones with a digit almost mindlessly, catching yourself just rock against his hand to get the maximum traction out of it. A bad idea. A good idea. Your body doesn't know. All you feel is the arousal tint your vision and dripping Yoongi's chest with drops of clear fluid.

"Damp day, isn't it," he says. "In Spring."

"I'm looking for some heavy rain."

Yoongi's intonation sounds all the more tempting now.

"Are you testing me?"

"No need to test to know you're a good weatherman."

He increases the frequency of his thumb circling. You can't help but moan along. The vault is too small for it to take up an echo. All you hear is your voice stay up close inside the walls, and only amplifying with his movement. He's too good— for his own good.

You loosen the tie from his neck, to his surprise, and detagle the nod. He slows down his fingers.

"Those hands are dangerous," you say, picking them up. "Way to go. Can I?"

He nods.

"Sorry Ma'am, I just type a lot. And now... they're preoccupied anways."

In a matter of half a minute, Yoongi finds himself with bound hands. He wiggles his wrists back and forth in the knot of the fiber, going nowhere, only fastening the gusset more because of the movement. You're shaking your head.

"I said they're dangerous, that needs a punishment. Just inhibiting them isn't enough."

"Are your punishments severe, boss?"

"Going by the Golden Book, they aren't. Unless someone leaks data. Then I'll be hard on the perpetrator. You're lucky."

"I made you leak, didn't I."

You squint at him. He's serving you his salesman smile.

"Giving me the brat? Hard punishment it is."

The smile grows even wider.

"Extra hard? I'm curious. Haven't had someone beat me up for long."

Tongue in the corner of his mouth, he's toying with your gaze. It doesn't take long for you to get the idea.

You don't bother answering. Despite all efforts not to, Yoongi exhales with a little fuck under his breath. You're sliding down his cock.

The paper stacks won't sit well in your hand, but they doesn't have to. You trace his jaw with them, side to side now.

"You need a smacking?"

"Need's an understatement."

"Then get ready weatherman," you fixate his head, hand grabbing the underneath of his chin. "It's raining bricks."

"Fucking— hot."

It's his face you're going for, down on his cheek. Flat side. It doesn't leave cuts. The bils disperse around his face like a paper halo.

You're satisfied how it turned out. A bounce of your hips landing on his own sweetens his expression for you all the more.

"Good— showers today."

"You took that one well."

A kiss to the cheek. It's a bit red.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

You test one of the stacks, make sure the wrap is in place.

"Mouth open, Romeo. Show me your teeth."

His jaw loosens. You hook your fingers at his lower lip.

"You got cute buck teeth. They look expensive."

"They are. But I only paid so I can smile at you."

"Smiling is good. Biting is better. Corny sucker." You shove the stack between the two pearly row of teeth. "Keep still that way. Secretaries from Daegu normally don't keep their mouth open as wide."

"A for me."

You nod. He bites down on the notes. The look in his eyes makes you drip on his cock.

"Good boy." You flick his nose with your middle finger snapping from your thumb. He's wincing. "Long as you know your place."

I will, he wants to retort, and you know he does, but the gag in his mouth prevents the words to come out clear.

Taking in his scent makes you want to curl up and cum right away. You slap your ass down on his thighs, take his dick deeper. Yoongi, still trying to manage the stack barring his jaw, does as much as whine. It gets louder when you sink down on him completely, but discontinue the thrusts.

"It's no punishment if I ride out all of your cum and call it a day."

"Nh—!"

No movement. Still hips. Yoongi twitches inside of you. Moans. Writhes.

Still no movement. It's if as his cock begs inside of you for a more fervent drilling.  

"You'll fucking suffer, brat. I'll destroy you."

The whines blend into lumbering breaths, making you wonder how far his stamina is going to take him. Yoongi's hands are visibly shivering, much like his legs.

You take out the gag of notes from his mouth. It only closes with dire efforts, and too much saliva sploshing out to soak his dried lips. You continue thrusting down on his shaft for a dozen times.

"Let me hear, pretty love."

It's easy for your labia to glide open on his shaft, perhaps too easy, as the promise of wet weather did not fall short. Nor does your teasing. The amount of friction is barely enough to shove the condom up and down, and keeping him half in. It's torturous. It's in his eyes.

"Please. Break me, boss, please..."

"Oh I could," you slow, even more. "But I wanna use you later. Can't empty all of you."

"Boss, you're so cruel—"

"Be grateful for your dick riding."

You barely thusted twenty times. That'll train him. The yearning is in this face already.

"I, I am!"

"Then sip this up and make me come."

You huff out and slip off his dick. The condom is decently bulging out with precum at the top. Yoongi's head tilts back into the pile of notes when you sit on his face. Support from your legs helps you to push up your pelvis enough for his tongue winding into you. No hesitation. It curls, it prods. It explores. It looks for the spot that his thumb left just teased enough not to make your back arch.

An almost electric charge begins to make your body brim.

You want to grab hold of sheets but there is nothing but money. To your relief, Yoongi rustles with this arms above his head, still tied.

"Hold— on there," his lips drip, and just a second after, the teasing of his mouth resumes.

You grab his upper arms on either side. They're firm enough for you to find hold to lace on during the rise of your orgasm. He's purposely putting some tension into his muscles.

Yoongi isn't stupid.

Nor half as experienced as you thought he'd be, having been so busy around the globe.

You come on his tongue with a feeling so carnal, either of your knees in the pile of money seems to flicker, and then disappears trembling. No sentence in your mind makes sense anymore. Just the hot shot of pleasure pooling in your loins, bringing more fluid down, way down, for him to swallow. All support from your legs ceases to hold your hip in place.

Holding on to Yoongi's arms even more is the only way to prevent you crushing in his face from the jaw upwards with your weight. You can barely loosen the knot of the tie for him to get his arms free to come and prop your waist up. His tongue is still lapping and sucking until you feel the licks become aching on your clit.

"Zero, Yoongi— Sensitive," you expel, and he leans his head back. Your legs still tremor underneath you.

"You alright?"

He helps to lift you off from the crouched position, making you stand as good as possible, and you nod.

"That fucking tongue... shit!"

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

"Need a moment, oh my god."

He offers his chest to lean at now, humming. You snake your arms around his torso, barely standing. He holds you until at least a bit of sentiment returns to your legs. Severe breaths are replaced by flimsy ones when it does. Embraced this way, you'd expect his boner to press firmly into your stomach. But he's flaccid. And the condom is bulging out much heavier at the filled tip.

"Did you—"

"You can't just crush me and think I won't find that hot, Ma'am."

Shaking your head in disbelief is too much of a hassle now. But if you could, you would now.

"How much more of a painslut can you get, Min Yoongi."

"Who gets cum fed from their boss like this."

He nods toward the floor where crumpled bills are spread under your feet, almost flat to the floor.

"I'll probably feel that ten days from now. Sorry for cutting it short, my brain just did a somersault."

"Don't worry boss. I have a rule for that, too."

"Oh, right. There was one."

"The fifth rule. Don't overdo it. Some things are best saved for later. Nothing works all at once."

"I don't even want to know what you saved for later," you wipe some sweat off your forehead. Yoongi seems a bit bewildered.

"Wait, Y/N. Was it— bad?"

"If you just make me drip and come like that... what's next, enlightenment?"

"Damn... You scared me for a minute there."

"I'm the scared one. You sit next to my office every day and talk with a tongue like that. Where the fuck did you learn this!"

"Won't distract you from work, I promise."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one getting turned on!"

Before Yoongi can reply, your cell phone vibrates a few times on the floor. You pick it up sighing.

"Ah, shit."

"What's wrong, someone calling?

"No, battery is at 10%. I still have to give you my number in the car. There's a lot to clear up around here."

"Yeah," Yoongi looks around. "But I wrote down I needed to clean something up for you. You can go into the car and type in your number into the dashboard, it has a button for that at the top. I'll clean here, I mean the vault door stays open until someone turns the wheel."

"Okay, but you'll just bag this," you get up to draw some large grey sacks from a corner behind the shelves. "No issue. We won't stuff that back into the lockers or something. That takes forever."

"Are you still going to use the bills? Some might be a little, uh, stained and creased."

"Well, yes."

"Really, boss?"

"Now that I think about it. It's the money I'll send Yongsang after they demanded compensations from Jimin."

"Holy fuck, what? They really did?"

"This very morning. Chuck the condom into one of the bags as well. It's all still gonna be cleaner than most of the money Hoseok handles. I might fuck with you. But he won't fuck with me."

Taehyung steps into the elevator with his third-best outfit, trying to camouflage a giant grin.

"How was his suit like?" he licks his lips. You press together yours. The grin is too knowing.

You should have considered that he checks the CCTV of the subterranean every now and then. The vault, at least your personal one, he won't and cannot monitor.

At least Yoongi has black windows in his CLS, too.

But you have to live with the fact that Taehyung knows you only took two days from “Apparently he’s a ghost” to “I fucked my secretary”.

You elbow his side and watch him laugh even more.

“T, you should rather tell me how the press handled the big reveal.”

"Stocks are great, I mean, that happens when you chill out for once and have fun."

"Oh, I see? Backhanded compliments are the currency at SeoulTec now?"

"Am not complaining."

"Me neither, in fact."

"About what particularly?"

"Jimin does a good job hiring people. Extra salary coming his way. Next month. I will pay the Yongsang recompense for him as well."

"He does hire well. Not to mention he is a good actor, anyways."

"One day... he'll stop calling me grump and gets promoted."

The elevator tingles.

"Don't think he wants that," Taehyung shrugs.

"It's true that the position is already perfect. He just deserves something extra, you get what I mean. But I can't just gift him a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, can I."

"Hm. You know what, Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"You might wanna try something counterintuitive."

"Well, shoot."

"Promote Taemin."

"Taemin from maintenance? Into Jimin's office?"

"Jimin's liking the attention. Taemin finds a lot of fault in his desk tools as well. He's always on their floor to wipe something."

"Probably just to hear Jimin laugh, doesn't he."

"You got it. So, just an idea. Taemin is qualified anyways. He can do anything. I don't know why he is still busy wiping elevators and whatnot."

"Sounds like win-win."

"It's what I'm saying."

"Will give it a try."

The elevator doors pop open. Taehyung rushes out left-bound toward Eonjin's office. You stay inside the cabinet and wait for the doors to shut again.

But you hear more footsteps.

From behind the palm plants nearby, Hyuna turns around a corner and dances into your direction. She pretends to get into the elevator singing, then steps out again, messing with the ankle-level laser that lets the doors rattle, indecisive whether as to close or not.

"We'll talk later, lovebird," she chants.

"Am busy."

"Busy busting his balls, I know! I told you!"

"Seriously... Taehyung can't keep a secret. Does Jimin already know?"

You turn toward the mirror, demonstratively taking out your phone to swipe through your apps.

"So it really happened, I knew it. And Taehyung? He didn't tell me anything. I can just smell it. Don't even pretend! This entire building feels different. You got yourself that boy toy, hah."

Of course. Her entire dancing charade was just a bluff to test you. Hyuna's methods become more intricate by the day.

"Kim, back to blueprints, there's an evaluation coming up. We gotta stay on top now. Seoul's press would eat up anything controversial right now, the entire Di-On plan would have been in vain."

"Yeah, yeah, lovebird," Hyuna rolls her eyes.

"And don't buy too many of Sunmi's soft drinks. That shit gets you high. Miss Employee Of The Month. How can you even focus on coding?"

"Hah! That shit's delicious! And Sunmi needs her revenue!"

It's like talking to a brick wall.

"At least everything's back to normal in here. And don't worry about Sunmi. Her queue is back and longer than ever."

Hyuna makes an odd face.

"What? Back to normal? You fucking around is not normal, chief! I'm so close to throwing a party. I don't know if Sunmi can stock up on champagne anytime soo—"

"Blueprints, Hyuna. Blueprints. This is SeoulTec, not a nightclub. My birthday is in three weeks, we celebrate then. There's plenty to do beforehand, still."

You tap your fingers against the sides of the phone. Hyuna just laughs.

"Plenty to do? More like plenty of doing your boyfriend! For how long didn't you have someone?"

"Get to work."

Her lighthearted As you say! gets cut short with the doors closing. A second later, your phone buzzes. It's Hyuna's icon popping up in your messages.  

— gotta have some fun in life, y/n ;) you already know it's a good thing. i'll keep it a secret though. fuck him rough.

Raindrops dabble on the aviary in the garden. There are only few cars, all headed to Incheon airport, chattering down the adjacent road every five minutes, maybe less. The frequent thunder at the bay makes them barely audible anyways. The rugged pines are swaying all around the pavilion at the pond.

But it's warm indoors. With nothing particularly interesting on the news, however. You zap back and forth since seven fifty, but the channels aren't as interesting as what goes on in the other room.

You sit and stare into the tube, hungry, one ear very much observant of the rummaging in the kitchen, and the constant walking noise. A little later, the footsteps cease for a second. You're twice as attentive now. To your surprise, the cat purrs in the hallway. It's her cozy-smoochy type of purr.

The footsteps resume their way to the living room. You stretch your neck out to look into the hallway. With his hair a little messy, Yoongi shuffles around the corner.

Now, the red off button on the remote yields to your digit fast. Yoongi slouches down next to you on the couch because he realizes too late how soft the cushioning is. It's unusual to see him in anything but a business landscape or driving around in Gangnam, now with a tight Muji shirt on, fairly low-cut, jet black.

After switching off his phone and tucking it underneath the table, he opens the noodle boxes that he balanced onto the nearby table, watches them steam away quite intently with two pairs of bamboo chopsticks, still wrapped, sitting right and left on several napkins with the crane logo embossed. Both smells of soy sauce and spices layer in the room like an invisible blanket of scent. Yoongi seems to wonder about something, scratching his chin. It catches your attention, but still leaves you in the dark.

Outside the formality of the office, and without the constant thought of Lexcom, the simplicity, the trained sleek demeanor, in his mannerisms has almost dissipated. He took a long time in the kitchen, too. He's relaxed. To your surprise, he's brooding more.  

"Sunmi always gives customers two extra napkins when the food is more grease-laden," you say after lighting strikes outside at the harbor.

"She does very well with the stall. I've seen her bustle inside at the cafeteria counter as well."

"Yes, working out how to rotate best, currently. With a better salary than at Cruise Chicken Delivery Service. Was about time we got her into the cafeteria. She even traded her Doc Martens against the uniform without saying anything. I think she really likes it at Front of House."

"Wouldn't be surprised if she takes over the foyer in a week," he clicks his tongue, and grins.

"Me neither."

The thunder keeps on rumbling. Another flock of cars, heading towards the airport, makes their way down the road past the alley of cherry trees.

Yoongi settles on the big purple satin pillow in the righthand corner of the couch, pulls up and fondles his knees. His sweatpants, calves downward, have cat hair all over it. Nice to be at home. This might be what Hyuna called balance.

"Clingy, isn't she," you say.

"Cats like me more than dogs, I guess."

"In that case, I myself am a cat."

"Why not."

Yoongi takes his chopsticks and shoves their thin paper wrap off, then snaps them apart in the middle. He turns to you, noodle box in his hand, stirring. You lean over to kiss his nose. The rain keeps on pouring onto the pavilion roof. It's rhythmical. A few birds nestle in the aviary to hide from the sweeping drops as they always tend to do. Yoongi settles closer to you now, leaving the pillow.

After cracking apart the chopsticks, you want to pick up the other box of noodles to stir them yourself, wait, taste a bit, then remain startled. You're sniffling. Something isn't right.

"Oh?" Yoongi's eyes get a little bigger now. "Is it that food?"

"Nothing, just. It's unusual without your aftershave on. Really different."

Especially now that he's so close.

"Ah, that one. I didn't apply it today. Funny you noticed."

You're chuckling, then pick up the vegetables from the box with the chopsticks.

"First it's causing me a hassle, and when I think it'll be there, it's gone."

"It did?" He perks up, chopsticks tucked into the box again. "It's not that strong I hope."

"Sometimes people get used to what they wear and forget about it. My whole office is like, it's like you dip it into the bottle, too every morning."

And you're more intimately familiar with it than just that.

"The office... Guess you're right. Sorry for causing a nuisance."

"Didn't say it was a bad thing. Nothing against your normal scent either. Mind you."

"I bought it when I received a call from Jimin that I have a chance to start at SeoulTec and follow-up the work of— Jin, that was his name, right."

You're nodding.

"It's strange. He was all about perfumes and whatnot as well. He's read your book anyways. Looked up to you. He's doing well in Gwangju. I mean, with your guidelines he can't go wrong."

"Really? The Six Rules?"

"Didn't know that either until recently. Think, now I know why I wasn't keen to see Jin leave an empty spot that's hard to fill. Little did I know, your philosophies are the same. I thought you were polar opposites."

"The spy thing," he nestles in his hair, "wasn't the best way to introduce myself."

"Now you can. Different place, different start."

"But not the 'Min Yoongi, 26, from Daegu' way, I'm thinking."

"The cat needs that introduction, perhaps. Tell her about the trophies you won."

"She'd be so bored, it's not impressive."

Yoongi slurps up a few noodles after testing for temperature. He can barely keep his mouth closed because they're still so hot.

"Cats don't usually become secretaries, she wouldn't be bored. It's two different worlds. Don't burn your tongue right there, Romeo."

He swallows.

"Am trying!"

"There should be a rule that prohibits hasty eating."

Yoongi shrugs, draws another string of steaming noodles from the box.

"I think it's called common sense."

"Theory: Yours disappears whenever it's in my radius."

"No objections. Good theory."

"Or is it because you're just into that."

"Not burning my tongue in particular. But maybe other stuff—"

"Might have gotten myself a masochist secretary indeed."

"That sounds like something Hyuna would say," he munches and laughs, seemingly at once, but at least, you note, he waited for the noodles to cool for a bit.

"She pretty much already did. Kind of insistent as always."

"I mean, was Hyuna ever wrong?"

"More often than not," you nod. "She said you look good. That's understated."

"It's my job to be. I hope! At least."

"You didn't ever look bad as far as I can remember."

"I mean— And what she said about being a boy toy..."

"Is that in your manual?"

You tap Yoongi's chest with nonchalance in your tone.

"It's a lifestyle, anything can be arranged."

"Was she the one who gave you the condom?"

"Like ten of them, in an envelope," he gestures. "Taehyung dropped by with it and we both thought it was regular post or something."

"She even signed it?"

"Yeah, there was a note inside. With 'by Cupid Of The Month' written on it. And more 'xo's than I've seen in my entire life. And I thought, she spent her money on this?"

Yoongi scratches his head. You're mostly bewildered, too. 'Cupid of the Month' had stopped at virtually nothing. But who's surprised.

"Typical of her. Sorry that, you know, she's been so direct with you anyways. I don't know what to do with her. Hyuna's a wild card. All people at Development are like that."

"I mean, she introduced me to colleagues in her office, I got free contraception, she made compliments. Can't really resent her. If you go by the Golden Book, Hyuna's an outlaw. But if you go by what she accomplishes, that's a different story."

"Hm. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea to keep the condoms," you twirl the chopstick into the noodles. "I do get cravings."

Yoongi perks up.

"What cravings, Ma'am?"

You smile to yourself already.

"Oh, Romeo is interested?"

"I'm the genius secretary supposedly. Making sense of— My superiors is the least I have to do. I think that's what the manual is about."

"Information intake, isn't it," you crawl toward him. Yoongi sets his noodle box aside almost like robot on autopilot, all while staring at you. "I don't think you have troubles filling, you know. The empty spot."

He's staring even more, pupils blown wide enough to replace the dark hazel of his eyes with sheer, deep black.

"Pleased to do anything. Boss."

"You wanna know where that empty spot is?" you watch Yoongi's eyes drop to your crotch. "Well, almost."

Now, he's raising a brow. Palm flat, you pat your lap instead.

"Here it is. For my bratty brat. But not with a full stomach. If you fancy it, later."

"You mean— For a spanking?"

The nod that you let his words follow is deliberately tantalizing. Yoongi's chest rises and falls quite heavily.

"Hyuna hears that through the grapevine before I even raise one hand."

Yoongi's eyes crinkle at the outer corners. It's mischievous. He does look like a rascal the way he is one.

"Maybe... it's the spanking echo she's hearing."

And how could you not chuckle, now, too.

"You're fucking funny."

"Oh, well."

"I have more things like these in mind. If you wanna hear."

"Yes, yes," he loosens the seam alongside his shirt's cleavage, as if it were a collar and not so loose already.

"Just keep on eating," you retreat from the proximity, falling back to your spot in the sofa. "We're not in a haste. I've known you for two weeks or so. Rule Number V, remember. Slow."

"Right."

Yoongi picks up his noodles again, but he's not quite focused. Teasing gets to him. He's aiming to finish up fast. You eye him with a little mischief in your smile yourself.

"So, you really like to know what I've been thinking about, anyways?"

"Virtually nothing against that."

You tap your chopsticks against the edge of his takeaway box.

"Been thinking about how I love to test how obedient you can become. Curious how far it goes."

Christie meows in the hallway. You're starting to think she has synced with Yoongi's mind. Because that's what happens when a cat brushes herself against a secretary's legs each time. Bizarre, isn't it.

"As, as far as you desire."

Yoongi seems to have some troubles leaving his jaw closed.

"You didn't even hear what exactly I'd like to do. Got a whole list in my mind."

"Fair enough, but I don't think anything less than worthwhile is on that list, uh."

"How come you think you won't be selective? There's a lot."

"You smacked me in the face with money and sent it to your arch enemies. What's next? It can only be something good."

His intonation alone makes you throw your head back into a deep laugh. Particularly the 'what's next' undoubtedly appears to be something that he picked up from your tone.

"That was for the lack of anything else at hand. You like bills?"

"Mister Jung Hoseok at Yongsang does. I like the smacking part more."

Good answer.

"It's why I figured spanking suits you."

"My ass comes for free."

"Now you're the one who's teasing."

"Learned it from the master."

Yoongi crams the empty noodle box shut, wipes down his mouth with the napkin. Christie mewls again, scurries down the hallway into the kitchen heading for her metal bowl on the floor.

"But ah, I'm sorry Y/N, you weren't finished with the list."

No, you weren't. It makes your thighs tingle just thinking about it.

"Talk about ass. Anal sex in the whirlpool? I know it's a bit outdated. But you've probably seen that it's got an edge to hold onto. It's good to just bounce, and not slipping away. No guarantee that your dick won't break off."

"No doubts you're capable of causing that," Yoongi holds his belly, stifling another laugh.

"Hyuna came into the elevator recently and said the exact same thing."

"She's prophetic."

"It was about busting balls or something? I don't know what her partners go through. Like on a regular basis. I think it's that E'Dawn fella who works at the market. The guy probably gets fucked into oblivion all night with ten toys and a champagne bottle stuffed inside of him or something."

"As much as I want to be envious of him with that... Maybe she's not as we see her behind closed doors, I don't know. You surprised me, too."

"Oh, with what?"

"When I was in the development department. The whole office said you're a spoilsport or something. I think the opposite is true."

As expected of the gossip central. By now, all it does is amusing you.

"Well, work is work. When the software has to be protected, this is what we focus on. People will stew in their own grease about me being a spoilsport until Taehyung passes out a rumor that I might have, say, repurposed my own vault."

"Well, he just said he saw us head to the car on CCTV, didn't he."

Yoongi might be right about that now that you think the scenario through, the camera angles in mind. The walk from elevator to cars is fairly long.

"Yes? And afterwards, some interns came along to pick him up for after-work hours. All you see on the footage then is only that the car drives off to the lower level where the vault is and comes back, I guess, two hours later?

"Yeah, like that."

"We've been lucky Hyuna holds her tongue, too. Hard to believe she really promised. I don't know how she found out. I think she tricked me into telling her but that's not quite it."

"I think... that's my fault," Yoongi shrinks in his spot. "It wasn't kiss-and-tell, but, yeah."

"What, she knew because of you?"

"No, uh. After I went back home after we cleaned the vault. I've accidentally texted Namjoon something I wanted to send to you. Your numbers are very similar. I think I made a mistake with the dashboard button to access your number after you typed it in."

"Namjoon?!"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"I think we both have a numbers problem. What on earth did you send him? Nudes?"

"No, just an audio file."

"What!"

"No, no! It was just music. It wasn't me moaning or something."

"Thankfully, oh my gosh. But— That made Namjoon pick up on what was going on? I don't get it."

"I realized too late that it was the wrong number. It was just from the album. But I wrote your name and "for you" underneath."

"You mean Bill Withers' album?"

"Yes. I think the song was too telling."

"Which one was it?"

"Kissing My Love."

"Oh..."

"It wasn't explicit at least. But I think he understood right away. I couldn't send it again, I was afraid it would get posted to wherever."

Now you get it.

"That's why you've been calling me by landline yesterday? I've been wondering why you acted so strange about it."

"Sorry again, Y/N."

"All this technology and we're still human."

"The only thing without number errors is probably the software."

"That's because Hyuna developed it. She's best when busy. I can send her and Namjoon some new blueprints next week, I think. It'll take their minds off before the entire department implodes... discussing our love life."

You tuck your own noodle box away, with only a few chunks of too-spicy garlic at the bottom that you left out with deliberation. The hormones that Yoongi gives you just sitting on your sofa are making you feel hot enough.

"I don't think they're bored enough," Yoongi shakes his head. "We have a lot of stuff going on with Lexcom trying to save face and blaming us in the press. And people are still angry that Yongsang demanded money from Jimin even if it's all paid."

"Such a mess. But at this point I don't bother. The Di-On plan worked. My secretary is trying to send me music. All I care about."

You unfold one of the napkins, trace it across your lower face quite diligently.

Yoongi reaches underneath the table to grab at and bring up his phone, switching it on with a little 'ding' noise.

"Um, you might like this, I don't know."

You scoot next to him, gawking over his shoulder onto the green-lit screen where an "Unnamed_1" file pops up under his fingers.

"Cool, more jazz?" you ask.

Yoongi fumbles to press play to an untitled file. Piano music starts playing. It's lighthearted.

And then, a little heavy. Saddened.

Then, cheery again. It goes back and forth.

It's as if it was telling a story.

"From February," Yoongi says.

"That's you?"

"Yes. I had some time to compose back then."

"For how long have you been doing that?"

"Since second grade. I own a grand piano since the eighth."

"You're really good. Eonjin tried to play for two years, this is so much hard work. Why is that piece not named, it's so beautiful. I can really see the atmosphere."

"Ah... Thank you."

"Tickles— My own ivories."

You bite your lower lip.

Yoongi has to blink a few times.

"Sorry, what?"

"Nevermind, Yoongi."

"That sounds like a good title, to be honest."

"Hm?"

"Nevermind, I mean."

"Guess it fits. What key is it, anyways?"

"D Major, ma'am," he hums.

Now you're the one blinking.

"Hey, wait a second. Are you flirting?"

"I might be."

"Press pause right there."

The piano music stops. Yoongi lays down the phone on the couch flat, screen down.

"You said something about ivories," he pries. "I'm just curious."

"Is that an AB?"

"That is an A."

"Oh, want to hear more of my piano innuendoes, huh?"

"How could I not."

Yoongi almost cracks up when you flip him over onto his chest by the waist, and drag him by the ankles to get him towards you where you want him on the couch.

"Bummer the jacuzzi isn't running. I would break your dick off I swear," you tickle Yoongi's sides. "Come, come here to Mistress. Need something else to substitute for it."

"At your service," he crawls until settling on your lap, face down.

Maybe Hyuna will hear the echo indeed.

His pants are loose enough to slide them down with relative ease. Pleased to see what is there to inspect, you trace the outlines of his peach fuzz at the bottom of his spine, down to his little compact cheeks. Goosebumps spread all over while Yoongi wriggles his face into the couch whimpering. Grazing your nail into his skin seems to be particularly fun given how he arches a bit more each time. Even if there's not a hint of aftershave, something else strikes you as smelling really good, radiating from all over his skin.

"What shampoo do you use?"

Albeit barely audible, Yoongi still manages to mumble something even if the way his balls slips between your thighs makes his legs visibly twitch hard.

"Pa, passion fruit. Some no-name brand."

"Very nice."

Another pinch, more poking, and Yoongi's ass slowly comes alive with tiny red marks and an overall flush. However satisfactory it is, what pleases your ear more is the pained groan coming from him when you squeeze together your legs and put pressure on his balls.

"Is that an A for me?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Ah—"

"If your balls survive the weekend I am skeptical about. You did say you envy the E'Dawn guy for getting his spare of torture."

More pressure.

"Don't really need 'em," he grits. "Long as your pussy is wet."

"You do learn fast, love. Ready for some spanks?"

"Beg you... to."

You already cup your palm on his right side of the butt, about the lower half where the most flesh aggregates, adapting the shape with your fingers.

"This one's for 'D Major'. You're so cocky, even Jimin couldn't pull that off."

The first hit is deliberately crisp. His ass is cushioning your hand with a slapping noise louder than you thought it would give off. Yoongi bites into the fabric of the sofa, nose scrunching together.

"Nnh—"

"And this one's for 'softer than cream'."

A lighter blow stamps his ass a little redder. Judging by the double twitch in his legs, he's surprised. You realize how much you love playing with his anticipation. Yoongi's face soon buries in the sofa again when you make sure he feels you tugging and compressing his balls with the inner sides of your knees from either side.

"Sorry, boss! Ah!"

A third whack to his other cheek, remaining the cupped shape of your palm.

"Say it louder."

More pressure on his balls. It's not Christmas, but you start to think it's still fun playing Nutcracker. Yoongi's ass is turning cherry pink around the main red spots in the meantime.

"B for a sec, oh my god, oh my god," he gripes until you pause right away. Yoongi's breathing hard. You relax your thighs entirely, wait until his jaw declenches and his face begins to emerge from the surface of the couch.

"Is it really okay to go on?"

"Yes, just, just a moment. Oh, fuck..."

His mouth gapes, saliva pools at either side. You pat Yoongi's hair from behind, feeling it through. It's quite soft without any gel in. You check how his breathing goes in a heartbeat. But he's already grinding his cock against your thighs again.

"Okay, Yoongi?"

"Okay."

"I'll give you two more. Without the balls."

"They're blue anyways, shit."

"Mh, it's making you horny?"

"Too much, Mistress."

"Then keep your ass still and don't rut. Or else it gets worse."

"Sorry, it just happened! I just love your legs..."

He really is a secretary masochist.

"You want a punishment."

"I'm desperate."

"AB?"

"Yes, and, it, maybe it should be, I mean. Fa— fast. Please. I'm blowing up soon. I'm so sorry."

"You naughty piano boy."

First, you flick his ass to get him accustomed, then deliver another pair of spanks to either side of his butt. Each is not as strong a hit as before, but still makes him jiggle. A really stark neck vein starts to thump and run up his tan neck. Yoongi's ass is completely ruined with blotches by the time you end.

You roll him off your lap, awkwardly so, to lay back down alongside the couch. He rotates to support himself from the side instead after his breath stagnates. It hurts too much with his ass facing downward on the couch.

"Calm, calm," you stroke his loins, and twist his fringe out of an otherwise pinkish and sweaty complexion. Yoongi almost immediately twitches. "Sensitive, aren't we. But your balls survived."

Kind of red. Bigger and more bulging, solid, pushing up against the brimming shaft that you would love to flick just like his ass.

He really did become hard. And close. Very close.

"I really thought I'd come, sorry—"

"Don't be. Your screams make me wet enough."

"Ah. That's the goal," he rubs his ass. "How many did I take?"

"Five, two hard ones."

"I need to work on that. As for being wet..."

His eyes linger on your abdomen.

"I'm not gonna shove it in your face, I'll do that later. We need something messier first. Real dirty shit."

"Yes, my goddess?"

"I do have an idea."

"Sounds good."

"Should we do something fun again?"

Yoongi licks over his lips.

"Is there a 'place' I don't know of."

"The garden is in full bloom," you point toward the window. "Nobody can see inside."

"It's still raining, are you serious?"

"The pavilion is made of glass. Did you see it?"

"Oh, right!"

"It's quite beautiful indoors. A lot of ivy covering the outside as well."

"There might be a little bit of evening heat left."

And less presence of a weirdo cat watching you fuck trying to figure out what the hell is going on with these humans.

"We take two blankets. Wrap yourself in one, I join in a minute, I grab two things."

"Okay!"

"And take these here, your socks get wet on the lawn otherwise."

You hand Yoongi your blue felt slippers to put on, open the squeaky old door to the garden's porch and where Yoongi quickly hops out. Wiping the saliva off his chin, he vanishes inside the pavilion with slightly dewy hair. The thunder, gladly, has not returned since a few minutes now. You're heading to the cupboard in your bedroom.

The birds have started to cease chirping while the rain still panders on the transparent roof. Yoongi has spread out one blanket on the powder-coated steel bench inside of the pavilion, the other he hands you right away coming through the little glass door. He looks mystified.

"You put on a skirt, Y/N?"

"Easier to fuck you like that."

"In, indeed."

"No prep, but at least I wanna bounce good on you. Here," you hand Yoongi a little packaging in exchange for the blanket. "Lube that cock up, I need it slick."

"You, you want me in—!"

"Yes. I don't care. The full load if you can. Wanna go for it?"

"That's an, an A. We don't have the jacuzzi, after all."

"You said you were tested last month, right."

"Yes."

Yoongi's pants are shoved halfway down his thigh. He hardly dares to use his entire palm to distribute the light yellow, cold lubricant.

"What's wrong?" you ask, wrapping yourself into the blanket chest downwards, keeping your sweater on. "Help necessary?"

"No, it's just, I'm really sorry if I cum early. Next thing Hyuna needs to send me in an envelope are blue pills or something. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you made me implode last time. We're even. Take a little more of it, it's cold enough to kill that boner for a while. We're outside, that helps, too."

"Don't want to ruin the blankets entirely."

"I might leak on there too, ignore it. I'm horny as shit. I just need cock in my ass."

"Nevermind then."

Yoongi slathers half a palm full of the liquid over the tip of his cock. Its veins turn greenish, slightly azure. They're even bulging out more than the vein at his neck. The throbbing comes back. You pull off your own shoes and socks.

"If you weren't close I'd step on that dick properly."

"Maybe you should, if it hurts I'll cum later."

"Mh, really?"

"AB."

You place your foot at his crotch, stretching your Achilles heel back and forth a little. A day on the couch can always leave it a bit rusty.

But Yoongi was right saying he'd prolong this way.

Letting the underside of your foot grind, then press against his length, he grabs at the bench where he first finds grip and goes red in the cheeks and collarbones. You slip your right hand between your legs and deliver a few quick rubs against your clit while Yoongi winds on the bench.

"Ah! Oh, fuck!"

Good sign. Now the blood's elsewhere. Retreating your foot, Yoongi's pants have ridden down even more. And underneath the hem of your skirt, a little transparent droplet, bordering milky white, runs down the inside of your thighs.

"Look what your voice does, Yoongi darling."

Trembling bottom lip, he looks up and sees.

"That's, that's sweet."

"You're lucky it's not my period. Might be fun when I think about it though."

"When is it, normally?"

"End of the month, coming up."

"We have plenty of condoms and towels if you want a bloody fucking. Wet is wet."

"That's the motto," you glance down your thighs. The droplet is making its way. Yoongi catches himself fondle at your hips absentmindedly.

"Shit, I wish I could make you come earlier."

"If you're lubed enough, anything is possible, Min Yoongi."

You gather the blanket and get on his lap, a little stumbling. Yoongi brings you upright with the help of his arms.

"You okay?"

"Too horny. Fuck you and your passion fruit schtick. That shit messes with my mind. Been waiting for that veiny dick too long."

"Served to you slick," Yoongi reaches down between his legs, and peels the foreskin of his glans. It glistens with the cold lube, slowly heating the liquid up for you. "Anything to alleviate your cravings."

"Knock before you enter."

"Of course."

Yoongi grabs his cock by the base and taps it against your clit, which ends up spritzing the lubricant all over your labia. The electric feeling shoots back through your loins. It's been a couple days since the vault.

"Is it good like that, Y/N?"

"That's how you get in. Slow now. I'm not stretched out. Just give me the tip."

"I can use my fingers first."

"Tip, Yoongi. Your fingers are dangerous."

Grip tight on his shaft, which alone makes him inhale sharply already, Yoongi obliges, circling in the head at your entrance. It's about a quarter in, by now only dilating the muscle enough for you to feel his superficial warmth. He's struggling a bit to bring it in further, almost slips off. 'Slick' was no lie.

"What makes you relax?" he mutters in your left ear, tempting now.

"Kisses, Romeo. And don't come."

"Trying hard," he leans in. You pull down his jaw by the sides with two fingers.

"Where's that tongue I love, busy elsewhere?"

He shakes his head briefly. Between his teeth snakes out, coated wet, the light pink delight where saliva pools. What dabbles between your legs like the rain, with added lube now, even, Yoongi seems to have going on with his mouth.  

"I love your drool. Good darling," you nibble at his nose, making him crosseyed to follow your movement. Yoongi's cock stays quivering at your ass, half an inch deeper, but still, with a significant part of his tip visible. "Do I squeeze your cock well?"

"It's, it's too good. Ow—"

Sitting still hurts. Yoongi's ass will be green and blue by tomorrow.

"I'll step on it more next time I get the chance, do you hear me?"

"Yes, goddess, oh shit."

You could do as much as sneeze and Yoongi would be bubbling over like a well. Licking off the saliva from his tongue creates long, gorgeous threads down your chin, thinning out as they drop on the blankets. Finally.

You open.

With the help of your own hand, eventually, you stuff the rest of his tip inside of you. To your pleasure, your palm feels Yoongi's cock vein pulsing even harder than before. It's so big and bulging. A little crinkled at the base, and protruding in S-shapes and zigzags the most where his girth spans the widest and your hand rests. You could just climax to the mere thought of it. Yoongi's shampoo really has been getting to you.

"Is it good this way?"

"Just how I want it," you shed the blanket, shove up your skirt a little more. "You feel very good, Min Yoongi."

"Utmost, cordial pleasure, M—Ma'am."

"You're close, my love."

"Yes, hurts..."

"Don't hold back. Cream me up."

He looks at you with big, kittenish eyes.

"Can I, can I really?"

"I don't care. Cum in my ass. You have to clean it."

"I have... a lot of cream for you."

"You're a fucking secretary whore. A."

Yoongi releases with a bass grunt from the very back of his trachea. Droplets from his black bangs nestle between his lashes when he tilts his head back against the bench. The welcome heat of his sperm seeps through the inside of your rectum.

You milk him. Hard. With full tension of your sphincter pressing around the area where his tip ends. Your hand squeezes onto the vein to grout his girth alike, feeling his balls contract and release just inches below. They're pumping more hot bits of seed into your ass the more you jerk him roughly. The more dire, agonizing growls drop from Yoongi's throat, the greedier your hand becomes.  

And so does Yoongi's.

You feel his thumb back pricking at your clit. His hands shake too much to keep his finger firmly in place. Instead, you feel him poking, rubbing you in a helpless frenzy. His eyes look blood-shot when they flash at you. Even though his hands begin to tremble even harder, you see one thing in his gaze. Determination.

The friction against your clit becomes so sloppy, he glides off several times. But that, in return, makes him press his thumb down even more, causing you to squeak and clamp at his shoulders with new each wave of heat and lust that his movements kickstart through your body. He's not giving up so fast. The rain drums onto the roof incessantly.

You want more.

A lot more.

The sheer fury in your scowl brings out a yell that reverberates in the pavilion.

"Do it faster, dirty fuckslut!"

With the words, your forehead comes crashing forward against Yoongi's. His tongue yields immediately to yours jabbing inside. You push it in, retreat, then slide back in to its farthest point, crisp, until Yoongi chokes up. His tearing eyes glower with a spark so gluttonous, you feel yourself leak. The pulse of his thumb against you gains even more acceleration. The heat becomes scorching in your abdomen.

His scent is all you can think of now, and the beat of the rain on the roof. Everything else blacks out. When the edge comes and you part from the kiss, your ass almost automatically pops wider and swallows Yoongi's creamy cock by three inches more, clamping around the vein, and getting fully stuffed and shot up with semen, with lube, his fat fucking girth. The throbbing vein pulsing into you. When the orgasm sets off, your entire core jolts under the fast stimulation of his hands. A thin streak of blood starts running from Yoongi's left nostril and mixes with the drool on his lips. The wind outside hammers against the glass walls of the pavilion while the length of Yoongi's dick crams into your ass further. Your eyes roll backward into your skull. He rubs you through the violent twitches of your body until his hand cramps up and he switches to the other with haste, even more avid digits carrying your through the high until you hit balls deep. The neighbors prove to be on a stroke of luck today when the thunder sets in to drown out you screaming his name.

A late-night flight takes off and leaves Incheon buzzing with the noise of the turbines. A few cars are still going back and forth the lane.

Yoongi's whole body still shivers with sweat. He hangs on the bench like a demolished ragdoll, your sleeve pressed against his nose to catch the rest of the blood. Your body is still buzzing with adrenaline from head to every toe.

Ever so slightly, you lift yourself from Yoongi's cock that doesn't seem to plop out of your asshole right away. His tip is quite broad and acts like a hook inside of your rectum, keeping his semen in place until he helps you with his hands.

The skirt, now pulled down, does a bad job at covering the dripping gape of your asshole. You pull the blanket around the two of you more tightly.

"Ouch, oh fuck..."

"My baby's hurting. Let me hear."

"I think they split in half. My, my balls. Shit."

"You shot that in deep," you slurp off the remaining saliva from the corners of his mouth. "I love your cream serving. Shoved a lot of things around in there. Guess I'm a dirty boss."

You're giggling. Yoongi's ears turn red.

"I like that."

"And your cock is perfect."

"Did it, feel nice?"

A strong nod comes as a fast reply.

"You almost made your hand fall off for that," you pick up his wrist to plant little pecks on it. "This darling working hard, does he. My ass still doesn't wanna close. It misses you. I got more cream than the cafeteria makes in one day."

"If, if you care sharing. You said something about cleaning earlier."

"Oh yes. That serving's for two."

"Yes, Y/N. Can I?"

"Your tongue still ready to go? Tell me when the sleepiness kicks in."

"I'll scrape it out if I must, I'll do anything, boss. AB."

"We'll go inside and I hope I don't lose any of it on my way. Alright? I think your nosebleed stopped by now. It wasn't a lot. Come."

You both stand up trying not to lose balance, thus, holding on to each other inside the blanket.

Outside, you walk through the grass on bare feet, watching out for lightning. But, as Incheon's sky seems to follow however the weatherman sees fit, the thunderclouds have seemed to become tender against the stars again.

"You get a lot of my blood going, Y/N," he says.

You open the porch door for him to slip inside the living room.

"Love you, Yoonie."

Much like the rain, the shower water is running down with a perpetual splash. It's entirely dark outside by now, with few stars peering from behind a translucent grey cast. The moon looms from one corner of the window and sends a soothing, cool light. Yoongi's lips are warm on your shoulder, his hands suave on your back. They circle in the shampoo until it foams up and runs down your legs. His phone is going off in the other room, and you already know it's Namjoon blowing it up with messages and calls.

"He's turning into Hyuna," you say.

"And you turn into me by the scent of it."

"I like passion fruit."

And stealing his shampoo just because.

"Next you just rub on my aftershave and go."

You turn up the shower handle to increase temperature ever so slightly when the warmth of his kisses leaves your skin.

"I might. Just to see how Jimin recognizes it, he's been trying to tease me."

"About your perfume?"

"No, that I like your aftershave."

Yoongi tampers with the sponge from the shower tray and distributes a bit more shampoo on it.

"I can just wear more of it and don't care, does that solve the problem?"

"That'll probably make the air fresheners obsolete at SeoulTec."

"Are there actually any?"

"I've been asking myself the same, to be honest. One day we'll have pollution alert because of the subterranean fumes."

"Ah, we'll have to ask Taemin at maintenance about this. I'm sure he has an idea, Y/N."

"What I've been thinking is that there will be once car less down there, anyways."

Yoongi seems to understand. He brings the sponge up to your collarbone.

"Mine, I believe?"

"I can pick you up," you affirm. "Or if you like to spend more time around here, we'll go together, anyways. No guarantee that Tae's eyes won't fall out when he sees us arrive together on CCTV."

"It's only a matter of two weeks until the entire company knows," Yoongi squeezes the sponge to bring the foam out, and it bubbles down your breasts, then dissipates with the water stream from above. "Taehyung gets chatty at the cafeteria."

"Oh yeah, and especially now that Sunmi is there, I don't know. Can't really keep this a rumor," you shift in an attempt to get Yoongi to move his sponge around a bit more. "Or do you say that so everyone knows you belong to me?"

The blush that traces along his cheeks does not come from the high temperature in the bathroom, you are sure.

"I mean," he stammers. "Namjoon knows, Hyuna does, Taehyung, Jimin."

"Yes, I'm aware. It's like a chart for exponential growth. Or some domino effect. But I wanna know what you think."

Yoongi seems to compensate for a lack of reply with more sponge rubbing. Your chest is getting warmer and warmer from all the friction and hot water.

"I, uh."

"You think I have something against it when you want to show us off?"

"When you put it like that."

"If you reply to Namjoon later, I mean, do I care? And it's better if we don't lie about it in the first place. You think that would be good?"

Yoongi stops moving about now.

"No. Surely not," he puffs out. "I don't want to live a lie."

"It's not about showing off either. If people know, they know. Their opinion is out of reach for us," you shrug. "If they think we're show-offs, that's how they think. We're just together. What pretense is there. Except maybe the cars. Those are ritzy enough."

Yoongi starts giggling. You turn down the water temperature ever so slightly.

"I don't know about you," his lips go into a pout. "Taking public transport from Incheon to SeoulTec is hell and takes an hour. We're not going anywhere without fast cars. You commute a lot, of course you drive Porsche."

"If I stay at your home we can almost walk or take the subway."

"Mine? It's not as nice as your house."

The shower stream changes to cold a little. You've already warned him about how old the boiler in the basement is. He doesn't seem to bother the temperature change. It goes back to warm in ten seconds either way.

"What about it, are you piling designer drugs in there or something?"

Even after asking two times already, you remain curious. Yoongi has been reluctant to say much about his home.

"It's a bit spartan I guess."

"Hey, more place to fuck!"

"I don't even have a garden or a whirlpool somewhere. It's not homely either," Yoongi continues to scrub. "I wish I had a cozy armchair like that. My taste— sucks. There's nothing special about my place."

"Oh come on, isn't that the please the senses rule? You walk around with gel in your hair. No person like that has a shitty home."

"I try hard not to be boring like my house."

"Yoongi. You're a dirty liar. What are you saying," you cock your head to the side. He shrugs a little, finishes scrubbing. The stars gleam brighter outside, and the moon wanders, steady as always. You reach for the lotion to apply gently on Yoongi's backside after turning off the shower.

The familiar piano tune resounds. Nevermind. A few geometric architectures pass, alongside shops that Hyuna and Jimin like to frequent during the holidays. The lights of Cheongdam station illuminate the end of the street.

Namjoon hasn't been calling Yoongi today. Only Eonjin pops up in your email feed while you're going down Hannam bridge, joking about how everyone at Marketing seems to have relocated their offices into the cafeteria to get advice from Sunmi. Attached, a picture with the new interns smiling bright at today's second software launch press conference in Busan.

The event, she writes, has brought a lot of shareholders there, too. You reply congratulating, and with a question about how Jimin and his department are doing in the meantime. Other than that, there are no mails to drag around on the screen.

Yoongi's CLS takes a corner into a side street with guest houses, then enters a tunnel. The lights overhead almost fly since he can go faster on this lane, then fade once the end of the tunnel approaches. A big sign frames the exit.

Gangnam District.

Yoongi steers toward the northern area and talks about how he learned Taemin lives about two blocks away from his house just a few days ago. The piano piece comes to an end just before he parks in front of a glass facade, interlaced with concrete and stairwells in between, three levels high, yet still towering. A few plants form a guard of honor at the entrance.

"The cat has her time off, that's good," the car door clicks into its place after you shut it. Yoongi follows suit on the other side and presses the red lock button on his car keys. The turn signals flash once, then, the Mercedes falls asleep.

Yoongi opens the front door with a four-digit numeral code that seems familiar to you. He hesitates for quite a moment before typing it into the blue grid. So you realize: He's changed it recently. He looks at you, testing whether you saw the numbers. You're nodding.

"Does she like being alone?" he closes the door behind you.

Whatever Yoongi has done to prepare his house this morning before going to work, it primarily seems to have targeted what the rooms smell like.

He must have crawled around on every marble tile and parquet with a tiny paintbrush, coating the gaps with something suspiciously reminiscent of—

Sandalwood.

It's everywhere.

Not that he doesn't make you horny already.

"Alone? She can recover from all that scrubbing against your leg, her hair is falling out already. You're a fucking cat magnet."

"It's falling out? That is unintended!"

"I'm glad she likes you, though. Makes two of us."

"Ah," Yoongi exhales, and places the keys in a white little tray next to the cloakroom where you already pace about, looking for a good spot to hang up your spring coat. Eventually, you find a broad metal hanger, streamlined, to carry the light attire.

"And hey," you add, "it's not boring here."

"You have access 24/7 with the code now," Yoongi pulls off his black loafers, arranging them next to your shoes.

"That's a number I won't mess up."

"Unless I play piano or sleep, knocks on the door have quite an echo in here either way. I'll hear it."

"Oh yes. You don't like walls, do you?"

Even a brief look to the ceiling reveals the gallery on the third floor where a few statues protrude from the edge on wide pedestals, integrated into the balustrade. You never thought it could be this spacious judging by the facade.

"Walls? Just the ones inside you."

He pulls off his own trench coat, hangs it up next to yours.

"My walls is where you're headed, Min Yoongi. Cocky fuck."

"Hyuna's condoms got a special place, do you wanna see? Before they run out."

"Sure thing. Doesn't she send you and Taemin a new supply at every opportunity?"

"Pretty much," Yoongi takes the stairs, you joining parallel on the step. The entire stairwell has a modern slant to it, with wide pillars supporting a wooden handrail on both sides. "She should make a safer sex campaign or something."

"Or she just wants to make everyone have sex for the gossip."

Yoongi lifts a brow. You currently pass a bit in the staircase where slender poles of bamboo tower on the right side. The stems reach up from the basement where they firmly anchor in a raised bed. Behind the bamboo installment, you can see a box of glass embedded into the architecture. Awards, gleaming in platinum, bronze, and gold. About a dozen or more.

"I'm not sure," he murmurs. "She has this 'have fun, lovebirds' schtick."

"She says that to me as well!"

"Whatever she tries seems to be working."

"It's Hyuna," you say, taking the last step. "She'd be happy to know you found a good place for cupid's present."

"Oh, I hope so. Over here."

Yoongi points toward the other end of the room where the balustrade is. To your confusion, the only visible interior in this part of the room is a white pit, a few inches deep engraved into the floor, and dark blue cube structures scattered around, inside, or alongside it. The pit appears to be made of a smooth surface.

"What is that?"

"I told you it's boring."

"No, it looks interesting. Is that a sculpture as well?"

"Sort of. The cubes are depositories for various things. I can activate the whole thing if you want."

"Sure, go ahead. Does it have lights or something?"

"No, but this."

Yoongi claps his hands two times. A sensor at the ceiling flashes up in yellow, then rotates. You can hear some sort of pattering noise coming from the cubes inside the pit.

And then, water starts to spring up from the upper edges of them. The pit on the floor catches the surge and distributes it evenly in the room. It is not simply a hollow in the ground, but a flat basin. Yoongi heads to one of the larger, inactive cubes on the edge of the pit while you are still frozen stiff.

"What!"

"I figured that the third floor needed a bit of decoration," he opens the structure at the side to reveal simple drawers. While he rummages, you step forward and pull your socks off, twirl through the room tip-toed. Gangnam's clear sky outside makes for a good scenery. The beaming skycrapers don't annoy you as they are usually prone to on other days.

You're cheering.

"Oh, you put the Rome in Romeo!"

"Rome? Because it's an aqueduct?"

"No, this is the Trevi Fountain."

He's grinning a little, and picks out a condom from the drawer.

"You don't even need a coin spare to get lucky in here," his eyes follow your path through the room now.

"My whirlpool is a joke against this. What's next, a sauna? A tennis court on the roof?"

"That's the only special feat I have in here. Your pool is much cozier and romantic."

"The only one?"

"The rest is glass and concrete," he shrugs. "Was a hasty time I got this built."

"Liar, you have statues over there! And the, uh, bamboo thing! Where are the statues from, anyways? Holy shit!"

You wonder whether it is some Olympian, perhaps Olympic type of figure on the right sight of the balustrade. It sure looks like it. Full nude, athletic body. Chiseled into perfection. SeoulTec's crane in the foyer looks like a bad joke compared to it.

"Present. I was just glad someone had a better taste than I did," Yoongi tears open the condom. You head back to him now, feet leaving wet blotches on the floor behind you.

"May I ask who it was?"

"Namjoon."

"Really?"

"It was for my birthday two years ago."

"Are you sure you're fucking the right person?"

His eyes are downcast. You glance down to Yoongi's hands peeling the Magnum.

"Time flies."

"I'm jealous of him. You know Namjoon since forever. You're a good team."

"We have a lot to catch up with," he exhales. You can see the tension creep up his torso. "I thought— the same about Seokjin and you."

You swallow. It's a bitter taste in your mouth. You don't feel like cheering anymore.

"Yes. We have. That's a draw," you reach your hand to shake his. The water of the cubes keeps on pattering. "Two jealous fucks with missing years."

He squeezes your palm. Still no eye contact. He looks at the statues instead.

"Cheers to that."

He keeps on fixating on the statues. You exhale. There are a thousand and one feelings in his gaze.

"Namjoon took your virginity, didn't he."

"There was a bet. And a lot of soju involved."

"Time really flies."

You let go of the handshake. Yoongi rubs the back of his neck.

"It does. Even managed to get sober."

"Maybe you would have been a good drinking buddy when I was busy crying over Seokjin."

Pause.

Something changes.

Yoongi looks beyond indignant now. Even against the sound of the fountain, he's almost yelling.

"What! He made you cry? Seokjin?"

"I have to blame myself for that," you stroke a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Really now?"

"It's been years," you tremble. "I didn't realize he was about to be, well. Engaged when I asked him," you knead your palms together. It's if as the feeling of back then returns. "I was already hesitant. Thought it would mess with work. In the end, it messed with it more because I hesitated. I did move on after we got tied up in the tax scandal rumors. Had no other choice. But I didn't feel good at that time. Jin's wife still resents me. She said I'm a homewrecker. I couldn't have known about her."

The tenderness returns to Yoongi's voice.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Doesn't that mean, you said you couldn't have known! Don't blame yourself."

"Maybe it was better that they went to Gwangju. Although— I went through hell offering the vacancy. I thought ill of you as well. Thank Jimin for insisting we avertise the job opening."

Yoongi chucks the open condom back into the drawer. The cube closes without noise. The water keeps on running.

"You had several good reasons at that time to think ill of me," Yoongi says.

"It wasn't the spy thing. I was just quick to assume things because I messed it up last time."

He shakes his head. His voice becomes firm again.

"Don't say that, Y/N. You didn't mess it up. You were still a good team regardless with Jin. And you didn't assume things. Namjoon's mistake made you think the number was correct. You had a reason."

All you can do is sigh out, but the water swallows the sound.

"Code 19— It became more than that. It became, something like, a convenient reason to get rid of you. So I wouldn't have to deal with the same issue all over again. I got the same dangerous feeling once your CV was on my desk. I didn't know I was wrong about everything. I was too stupid."

"I would have done the same in your stead. Don't castigate yourself. You have a lot of responsibility."

"It's easy for you to say that. But you didn't hear the shit I said to Jimin. I said I'll beat you up and drag you out. I called you a clown, too. I said all these things. To everybody. And then I agreed to chase your car into Hannam with the girls. Do you understand? I was ready to hand you to the police... We almost killed Hyuna on the street because we were reckless. Heck, I told entire deparments bullshit about you!"

"Well... Not complaining."

You fall comepletely blank.

"Huh?"

"You thought I broke the law, after all. My reputation you don't have to worry about."

"Why?"

"I get it strategically ruined every four months or so, this is secretary business," he nervously rubs his wrists down his legs. "But in this case, all things were clarified, weren't they? I have nothing to complain about. Everybody knows I went undercover by now. And that Hoseok was the real perpetrator. Why do you have a bad conscience, everything turned out fine!"

"Doesn't change I did that stuff. I look like a fool. And you were innocent."

"Y/N, listen to me," he cups your shoulders with his hands now. "If you were a bad CEO, SeoulTec would be in ruins by now. The opposite is the case. And we got together. If you called me names, then you did. None of us can change that. Nobody likes a spy in their enterprise. Especially when a lot of sacrifices were made for it in the past. It wasn't wrong to take the Code 19 alert seriously. It's my fault, and Namjoon's, that we didn't inform you correctly. We're the fools. That was careless. We fucked up times more and caused you all this mess. If you would beat me up and kick me out? I'd deserve it."

"No. All you did was miss out on a detail in the Code 19 email. That was not deliberate."

"I'm sure we did something very wrong when we managed to cause you and the girls to drive to Hannam. Some stuff must have happened for me to appear that untrustworthy to you."

"Well... I thought you kidnapped Namjoon because his social media died. And that you installed cameras in my office. I was also mad that Taehyung gave you access to the subterranean password without asking me since the vault is down there."

Yoongi sighs, hands gliding off your shoulders.

"Ditto. It's just like I said. Assistant Min Yoongi made a very bad first impression, posed as a traitor, and left his boss completely in the dark about it. I carry the can."

Now it's your voice that goes through the roof.

"Ditto you say? That was just me being paranoid! And blowing everything out of proportion! Jimin probably thinks of me as Seoul's number one imbecile. I wanted to fire him! Can you imagine that, Yoongi? Firing the guy who hired you and saved our plan with Di-On? You're dating a first class idiot!"

Pause.

Yoongi's shoulders are visibly shrinking together under the weight of your words.

"That, that's a draw, Y/N," he soothes to assuage you. "We're even. Okay. That was... both subpar. But it's useless to feel guilty now. Everything's in the past. There is no need to bring yourself down. You know that it's not good for you. Please. Do you understand that? I don't want my girlfriend to hate herself. Nothing of what you said harmed me at the end. I'm alright. And if you still think you are an idiot — it takes two to tango. I was very stupid, too. I made you fear for someone else's life and the safety of the entire company. That's even worse than making you cry. I'm a shithead. I hardly deserved when you said you want to invite me to your house and spend time. I have to be very grateful for your trust. It must have been twice as hard to open up again after what happened with Seokjin, and Lexcom. And Yongsang. Everything. You're crafted of steel and still let me in. How can I not be grateful. Y/N."

He claps his hands twice. The fountain ceases almost immediately. You fell silent, too.

"This place... isn't good for us, Y/N. Downstairs. Come," Yoongi breaks the quiet after a minute, offering his arm for you to link with. "We both have to make our amendments. But we'll eat, first."

You hook into the angle of his elbow and whisper a little okay.

Yoongi guides you toward the stairwell again. The tension loosens around this shoulders.

The little rice cooker steams and puffs every other minute, but it's not loud enough to disturb the music in the room. Yoongi's hands waltz across the keyboard, bringing the lighthearted melody to life. He was right that the house carries an echo quite well. It's a good way to pass the twenty minutes until the rice is boiled enough. Despite its lean and simple design, your chair is quite comfortable. It naturally rocks a bit back and forth, too.

On the kitchen counter, accompanied by several Santoku kitchen knives in a granite block, several types of sprouts, zucchini, and a small pile of watercress wait to be mixed into the pan where a sauce now simmers just enough to stay warm on the gas stove, all while letting the spices and herbs that Yoongi mixed into them earlier infuse the decoction. The sky outside remains crystal clear as before. Seoul is vibrant.

When Yoongi gets up from the grand piano and joins you in the kitchen to put white porcelain bowls on the table, about half the house has taken up the smell.

"How hungry are you?" he gazes across his shoulder while stirring the zucchini pieces into the pan using a wire wisk.

"It's like— as if I skipped lunch break and didn't visit Sunmi's stall combined."

"No problem Ma'am, I used three cups of rice instead of one today."

Now, the watercress disappears inside the sauce, all while Yoongi turns the gas influx button and the circular blue flames dim a bit more. The rice cooker starts to jingle just a minute later.

"Shame we can't order stuff from Sunmi's takeout anymore since she moved," Yoongi says, filling the bowls. "But if this is only half as tasty, we should be alright. I hope you like it."

After handing you chopsticks, he sits down at the opposite side of the square teak table, now rocking back and forth as well.

"The only close delivery is Wang's restaurant," you mix some of the rice into the sauce. It's nice and sticky. "I don't want to know what my employees think about having to order there now when Sunmi is not available in the cafeteria."

"Betrayal, I'd rather starve, hah!" Yoongi wildly gesticulates with his chopsticks, imitating Hyuna's voice and mannerism. You've rarely seen him act silly this way. Your laugh may be surprised, but genuinely entertained.

"Sunmi will be installing a new delivery service in two months if it goes on like that. She gets Taehyung to drive the Honda around or something. We had a food supply shortage last Monday and Thursday. People really love the sandwiches."

Yoongi ruffles his hair and puts a napkin into the V-neck of his shirt.

"She is busy. Hope I'm a worthy substitute cook until then. Personal Cruise Rice Delivery right here."

"I think it tastes good. Is that part of secretary training?"

"It's not a part, it's a must. At least for me. Secretaries are the modern day knights," Yoongi ours himself some water now, then fills your glass, too.

"Oh, you mean people think they have just one task but actually—"

"They have to be good at everything, yes. You got it. It's like being Miss Moneypenny."

You have to chuckle to yourself. If only he knew.

"If you keep it up like this, I'll make you my Squire then."

"Yes, Lady Y/N," he makes a tip on his invisible hat. "Any wishes? We still have desert coming up."

"Methinks something with fruit."

"Oh yes! Fruit is a good choice."

"I won't eat all the rice and get full until then, I promise."

"If you like— Got a bunch of strawberries from the market yesterday," he nods toward the fridge. "You're lucky."

The chrome dishwasher rumbles and churns alongside a continuous pumping noise. There's a lot to rinse down. Yoongi said it's one of the few times he won't do it by hand.

By now, the sun has disappeared behind the skyscrapers. On a walnut wood tray, you light an oil lamp and some incense in the living room where three chairs and a sofa center loosely around the piano. Even if the herbal note of the sauce still lingers in the air, the familiar aftershave scent begins to become more prominent after Yoongi returns from the bathroom on the third floor. It mixes with the sage, neroli, and amber of the incense quite seamlessly, making the air thick with aroma.

"Oh, aphrodisiac," Yoongi hums, eyeing the incense box you chose from his petite collection.

"Strawberries also classify as such, don't they."

Yoongi confirms, already looseing his V-neck a bit. A bit of a tan line is visible where his collar normally is.

"We're having a good evening, Y/N."

The dishwasher thrums a bit in the background now. You put the charred matches that you used for the lamp and incense back into their little blue box.

"How about I fuck you on that piano?"

"Thought about it. But probably a safety risk and not so, uh, comfortable. I know Rule IV applies here since it's your preference, but Rule Number II and III are more important."

His face makes you coo. "That's a lot of thought you put into that, hm. Did someone fantasize?"

"One of my knightly duties is to think of ways to indulge you."

"Which other ways did you think of? I hope I could persuade you it's not boring here."

"I think you accomplished that. But it's mostly because of your presence."

"Flattering me a lot today, are you."

"By all means, you're my guest."

Again, the invisible hat tip.

"Thank you for hosting me. I really like this house. I don't say this to be polite. It really looks good."

"Oh right, the other ways!"

"Yes, tell me. I'm curious."

"There's, well— Let's see. A TV room on the basement level that has a very smooth furniture landscape, it's very easy to clean, too. Then there's the rooftop, uh, and the bathroom, third floor, with an antique tub. I sleep on the first floor, it's a plain room, however."

You ponder for a moment, then lift the oil lamp and incense on their little tray with either hand.

"We pick that one."

"The bedroom, yes?"

You're already heading toward the stairwell downwards, balancing your cargo with care so the lamp won't fade out.

"Whatever you say is plain almost always turns out to be quite spectacular."

Yoongi's cock is hard against the base of your spine. His hands shift alongside your waist a little when you gyrate back on him. The streamlined chaise longue is velvety enough to allow unrestricted movement. You face the side of the house where Yoongi's bedroom admits a broad view onto the Han River. Little car lights, illuminated bus windows, and the ubiquitous neon bling on the horizon paint the surface of the river like a movie. You imagine how its ripples and larger waves translate to your hip movement.

Whatever it does to him, Yoongi's speech center seems to have drifted off to another dimension.

"This is— I got, how's your ass, Y/N? From the pavilion. I mean!"

You purposely press your butt cheeks to either side of his erection, encompassing him. Meanwhile, your core strains on his nimble lap, enjoying its warmth.

"Still feel your dick inside. Phantom sensation. Or maybe it did break off and stayed in there. Who knows. The ways of the world."

You turn, stick your tongue out at him.

"What, uh?"

"I'm kidding. It's all normal. Anal works for me. Your dick has a good shape for it."

"Oh, eh, good. Good. That's very good. Tremendous. Yeah."

You halt your movement while he keeps on babbling and smoothing over your waist.

"Romeo."

"Hm? Yes?"

"Don't let my ass turn your brain to mush so early. We didn't have soju or anything."

"Nn—no. Right."

"And yet, my host acts drunk."

Drunk on ass.

"You're just, just so beautiful tonight."

"Maybe you're more susceptive to incense. That must be it. Aphrodisiac much. Or are there actual designer drugs in the bathroom, huh?"

The tray is quite close to the chaise longue and infuses the air with more aroma by the minute. You make a mental note of it. Yoongi's fingers at your hip and belly seek more friction now.

"I love, really love. Incense," he whispers, mouth hanging half open. "It's smoking. Hot. Like you, boss."

"M-hm. Should I torch your cock, you have to say something, though. Could melt the condom off."

You resume gyrating. Yoongi, more by chance than deliberation, starts dripping saliva on his naked chest. And there it is again.

As if by automatism, his hands wander from your hip already. Downwards.

"Don't care if you burn me. I just, wanna. Make your pussy a waterfall."

"Good thing that'll douse down your cock."

"Yes. Yes, Mistress."

"I'll see how much of a pounding your balls can take today. They have a lot of clit service to do. I like when they slap against me."

"Clit service is a secretary's favorite."

Almost parallel to his words, Yoongi's finger tips follow suit on your labia. They are a lot less eratic by now. You find yourself rutting against them in a matter of second to seize the opportunity. His hands will shake soon enough.

"We're playing nutcracker. Let's hope I don't split your two friends in quarters today. Or is that what you're going for?"

Furious nods. Yoongi's drool trickles to either side of his loins. His eyes are glossy and big, gleaming with the night life of Seoul in then at you from behind his fringe.

"AB."

You squeeze your ass onto his lap so snug, Yoongi gasps out. Dirty boss mode activated. You're flashing provocative eyes at him.

"I'll crack you apart like a passion fruit on a Santoku, you fucking greedy whore."

"Please, please, yes Y/N—"

"Gouge out the seeds. Stir it up. Make some juice for me. How's that."

"Take it. Take as much as you want."

Your palm takes the familiar spot on his girth. Good thing you always have the vein for orientation purposes.

"Can I?"

"You can."

"Roll the condom on Yoonie, it's time for a a chopping."

"I do like your floors. All of them in their own way."

Yoongi bumbles and sways in his seat as a response. You twist the incense stick into the tray's mold where most of the ashes had gathered during the evening. Outside, the glowing outlines of the skyscrapers start fading, window by window where people wander to bed equally late, headed for a rough upcoming day.

Seated at the edge of the grey box-shaped bed, half twirled into the white sheets with his legs, Yoongi finishes replying to a few emails and messages on his phone, then stores his phone under the cube-shaped nightstand, alarm clock set to 6:15 AM, and looks up.

"Glad you do."

"It's very well-designed. I bet the TV room is just as nice. Yes, my home's cozy but—"

"I do still like yours better."

"I really wanna know why you're so stubborn about this."

"It's sterile here, I just don't like it as much as I used to."

After finishing up the tray, you button down one of Yoongi's spare shirts. As most things in his wardrobe, it sports only black and white. He is intent more than ever when you sit down next to him, however, even in the dim light the emerging bags under his eyes are somewhat visible. From the nightstand, you pick up a water bottle and hand it to him.

"But, can we have our breakfast on that landscape thing you mentioned?"

"Everything is possible," Yoongi unscrews the cap. "Is there anything you want from the bakery? It's around the corner."

"If it's not Sunmi's pastry and cakes, what's the point?"

"Then I will personally call her and pay extra."

He starts drinking. You finish buttoning down the shirt. It's softer than you thought on the inside.

"I'm messing around, the bakeries in Gangnam are nice. Anything with mocha or red bean flavor, if you find something."

After placing the bottle on your side of the bed again, Yoongi takes up the sheets to slip underneath them now.

"Red bean? Definitely a good choice."

You follow, patting the extra pillow that Yoongi got from the basement into the right shape before lying down. Yoongi claps one time to switch off the light bar at the ceiling. Only Seoul's moon is left now, illuminating half of the room through the large glass front from between three skyscrapers.

"What do you like, Yoongi?" you ask, voice dulcet now. You hear him ponder for a moment.

"I think, Soboro bread."

"Because of the strawberry jam you can put on top, isn't it."

Your tone is playful. Yoongi wiggles himself into the blanket now, his legs reaching a bit to your side of the bed so you can intertwine your own with them.

"Almost. Not quite. The guess was pretty good though."

"The inside— is soft like my ass. That must be it."

Yoongi shakes his head. It ruffles his hair into the fabric of the pillow.

"Which bread can compete with your ass when it comes to softness?"

You try again.

"Okay... Is it because of the streusels is has?"

"Nope."

"Hm. Running out of guesses, honestly. One nil for you."

"The thing about Soboro bread is," he scrambles closer, ribald now. "You can fill it up with fresh cream."

"Ohh."

"It tastes the best for me that way."

"I wasn't entirely wrong about guessing it has to do with my ass."

"True. It's nil-nil again."

"Your guessing games are quite fun. We need some fresh cream for breakfast tomorrow."

"Definitely. Was fun today, too."

"Yes. Sleep well, you've been looking very tired."

"Couldn't rest last night, I was a bit nervous."

"Because I'd come here?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

Sighing out loud was not your intent. But it being so late and your body so lax, it escapes you without much of a filter.

"Come on. You don't have to be a full-time genius or whatever. That's madness. You already thought a lot about how to host me. I like all of this here. You cooked well. We had a lot of conversation. Sex was amazing. You're amazing. When it comes down to it— I don't need much. Just food, a solid roof over my head. And you. Don't worry about all the rest."

"I'll try next time. I just wasn't sure if you like it here. Even the bedroom and so."

"No, Yoongi. It's more important that you like it here. It's your home. I need to be assured you feel comfortable in your own skin, in your own life, you know. If you say it's just nice when I'm here. What happens when I'm busy elsewhere, and you're in this place feeling shitty all day? That can't be right."

Yoongi's voice turns a little shaky now.

"There are— some odd memories attached to this house, I guess."

And there it is.

Silence reigns for a minute until you clap your hands to switch on the dimmer again. The light bar illuminates the room when you sit up and look him in the eye.

"It's because of that," you say, "isn't it. Why you hesitated to go here with me."

"Yes."

"And why you said this place isn't good for us. Even though it's the most tastefully made house I've ever seen."

He sniffles a little, says nothing. You entangle your fingers with his on his chest. You see a tear well in the corner of his eye.

"I know that�� I know, moving on is hard," you say, filling in the silence after another passing minute. "If you— See, there's an empty armchair in Incheon. And a cat who likes you, too. It might get a little stuffy in the garage with too cars, but, if you pack a bag after breakfast, we can be right there after work already. I'm serious now. You need to get the fuck out of here. I see how you look at the statues. This is suffocating you. If you'd rather sit on my porch with me right now instead of lying in your damn own designer bed, then we both know where it is best for us. If you hate the house, I'll start hating it, too. We'll stay in Incheon."

"Can I really do that, Y/N?"

"We'll somehow get the piano over there as well. I'll call up Orbit Five, they have a service for that. It's of no use if you don't feel well here. Things won't get better just because I'm around. We could ask Taemin to check up on your house if that's okay. I mean he lives close, he passes Cheongdam every morning. I'd be happy to host dinner for two tomorrow night. And— the day after tomorrow. How often you feel like it. Okay? Say something."

"It's okay with me."

"You don't have to force yourself through this here to accomodate me, and think the new memories will overwrite shit from the past. I shouldn't have asked about visiting your house so much. I really thought you genuinely didn't think it was worth it because it would be too lackluster to bother or something. Should have seen the warning signs."

"No, it's alright. I can pack some things together. I'm sorry for this. But maybe you're right."

"Don't apologize. My apartment is nice enough for three. I look after the details."

"I'll cook the dinner. Taemin gets my front door code."

"Alright. Just so you know. We'll take it easy after work."

You slide your hand out of his now.

"Thank you again. I don't take it for granted."

"I'm looking forward to dinner."

"Me, too."

"Sleep now, we'll bother with the rest tomorrow."

One clap and the light bar fades into the obscure of the ceiling again. Outside, the city smog has waned. Stars, billions of them, some bright, some barely visible, some twinkling, some stark, splatter on the ecliptic rising from behind the river and skyline.

"You're the best, Y/N."

"Life is like chess. Where there's a knight, there's also a queen."

"Who's king? The cat?"

"SeoulTec."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"We talk at work. I'd fuck you to sleep but it's getting too late by now. Can't do anything."

"Oh right, Rule Number V."

You nod, then press a kiss on his forehead.

"Good night, Romeo. Don't sweat things. I'll handle this."

The jacuzzi keeps on bubbling and chortling. To your ears, Sunmi's Honda engine sounds tame compared to it. Yoongi however finds it amusing how the old ghastly pump rattles around and makes the brim of the entire contruction vibrate. At the push of a button, you activate the water nozzles to whirl the water back and forth a little while you both try to balance tall, chalice-shaped glasses above the water, scooping strawberry sorbet out of it.

"Let's hope the cat doesn't get curious again. She hopped in here last time I was trying to relax. One wet pussy is enough in here."

Yoongi can't swallow properly and almost gets some sorbet in his airways from laughing.

"She even tipped over the shampoo bottle. Into the water! Took five days until she started to smell like actual cat again," you go on, stirring the sundae a bit.

"It wasn't something like— passion fruit shampoo, then?"

"No, a perfumed one. Nasty stuff when you use too much of it."

"Oh god."

"Oh cat you mean! Christie. She's one of a kind."

You raise your brows into the direction where her little basket is tucked into a corner. Yoongi finishes up his sorbet and seems to look a little serious by then.

"About that... Can I ask you a question?" he says.

"Well, anything."

"It might be a little, say, private."

He fiddles with his spoon.

You let your legs float with the pulse of the water nozzles quite casually.

"We may or may not be in my private realms here at Incheon, Cheonseok Road fifteen. Let me in your life and such."

"Well, uh. I don't want to embarrass you with it. But I have to ask."

“Yes?"

"You said Christie... Is that related to Christie S. Kwon? Someone signed up on my website. With that name. I—"

Now you're the one to cough up on the sorbet.

You completely forgot about that.

The subscription.

You reach out of the jacuzzi to put the empty sorbet chalice down, and gather yourself.

"That, yes. Is my online alter ego."

"Oh!"

“Say, um, I got inspired by the cat. You know I was a bit undercover, you know myself. I was researching about the Six Rules and such. Just, being discreet with it. I couldn't possibly pick my own name."

Yoongi shrugs.

"Yes, that's no problem? I was just wondering if there was a connection."

You breathe out the relief now.

"But, how did you actually get a sense it was related? Can't pride myself with a software safety premise when I'm that transparent just making an account.”

The corner of Yoongi's mouth rise into a lingering crescent now. He licks the sorbet from the corners of his lips.

“Taehyung. He has the exact same sunrise picture at his desk. As a greeting card, I guess. Or some photograph with your name on it.”

You have to laugh. Of course. The sunrise. Taehyung, forever the nostalgic, never bothers removing old cards from his pinboard.

"Oh gosh. That was 2014 when we formed the team. You want cards, too? Everybody gets one now and then, I make them myself."

"That sounds nice. Sure thing! I've been planning to personalize the secretary room anyways, with some things here and there."

"Ah, that fits."

"You're a good influence for my taste in things. The sunrise icon struck me in the first place because it was well-shot."

"By the way. Am very happy with my subscription. Good site."

"Any plans to prolong the subscription? It has to be renewed every now and then, just for the algorithm."

"Rule Number VI applies here."

"Choose well and commit."

"Your file has proven to be immaculate in every detail."

"Then, happy birthday, boss. I'll be your trophy boyfriend."

do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. mentioned car brands: No endorsements, infringements, tarnishments, and dilutions intended. they are for descriptive purposes only. © 2017-2019 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved.

[mermaidxatxheart]

I Wish

Chapter three is here. I will make this short and sweet. @i-have-arrived-bitch has harassed me into posting more of this story ;) honestly it didn’t take much convincing. 

Word Count: 4.579

Warnings: descriptions of vomiting, swearing, probably terribly translated Romanian. I used google translate and tried very very very hard to pick through the meanings and actual definitions of words to use the right ones, but it’s still google translate, so if I did it wrong I’m so sorry. I tried and feel free to send me a message and correct me, because there’s going to be a lot of it in this story, so I could use the help before I post it. I’m very nice, I won’t bite if you drop me a message and say hey, thought you should know it should be said this way and I”m happy to fix it. 

Chapter Three

Harry

I heaved a sigh and tossed another pamphlet on the coffee table. I really didn’t want to do this, but I needed to face the music.

 “What was up with Si this morning?” Liam asked, glancing up at me.

“I have no idea. Who knows what she was on. She came home at three this morning, obviously drunk as hell. But from the way she was acting this morning, I would say she probably took something,” I dropped my head backwards onto the couch to stare at the ceiling.

 I felt Liam watching me. I knew it was hard on him to see Sirena going through such a hard time, he was one of her best friends. Hell, all of my friends loved her, especially Liam, Niall, Louis and Zayn.

“You two will get through this, mate,” he said, trying to be helpful.

“What if she’s cheating?” I blurted, voicing a thought that had been nagging at me since we got home for this hiatus. I knew the reality of that being true was slim, but Sirena was so far out of my league, part of me just kept thinking she was going to find someone better, someone on her level.

“Harold, if there’s one thing you don’t need to worry about, it’s Sirena cheating. That girl loves you,” Liam said positively.

 “So, what the hell happened? She was fine only a few months ago. And then this… drinking, partying, maybe drugs… all out of nowhere,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I looked suspiciously at Liam, a thought occurring to me.

 He seemed to feel my gaze and looked up. “What?” he asked.

“You two are awfully close,” I commented and he rolled his eyes.

“Harry, I’m not sleeping with your girlfriend,” he said exasperatedly.

 I waved my hand, pushing that aside. I had moved on. “No. I didn’t think you would. I just meant that she considers you one of her best friends. She would tell you things she might not necessarily tell me, right? So… has she mentioned anything happening lately?”

“Oh,” his face relaxed as he realized I wasn’t accusing him. “No. She hasn’t said anything to me. If something happened that was bad enough to make her start drinking like that, I would have told you. I don’t care how close she and I are. If it puts her health at risk, screw secrets, mate.”

“So. What do you think?” I asked.

 He closed the pamphlet he was reading and studied my face for a minute.  “I think something big happened to her a few months ago. An event or some huge news that’s bad enough that she doesn’t want to talk about it and this is how she’s dealing with it. You know her as well as I do. When she’s upset about something, the worse it is-the less she talks about it. And if she’s not telling you, then it’s really bad.”

 I frowned. What could be so bad that she doesn’t want to talk to me about it?

 “If you want, I can talk to her,” he offered.

“Maybe, but not right now,” I blew out another sigh and dropped head backwards again. “I love the girl and everything, but sometimes, I think she tries to push me to the breaking point.”

“Why would she do that?” he asked.

“I think she’s trying to see how far she can push me until I leave. Until enough is enough.”

“And are you there?”

 I looked at him and shook my head. “You don’t give up on the people you love.” I said evenly. My phone started ringing on the side table next to Liam, he glanced at the screen before tossing it to me.

“Dani,” he said and I answered, wondering why she was calling me.

“Hey, Danielle.”

“Your girlfriend stood me up,” she snapped. “I texted her to see what time she wanted to go pick up our dresses for that release party and she never answered. Unless she’s still asleep.”

 I closed my eyes. “No, she was awake when I left, but I do know she said she wasn’t feeling well,” I said, covering for Sirena.

 It wasn’t like her to just ignore Danielle. Even after Liam and Dani split, we all still remained friends. And much to everyone’s surprise, she became one of Sirena’s best friends.

“She could have at least answered me back,” she grumbled.

“Agreed. I’ll check on her in a little bit to make sure she’s okay,” I said. “Mind if I pick your brain really quick?” I asked. If Sirena hadn’t gone to Liam, she had two other people she might talk to about what’s bothering her: Danielle Peazer or Niall Horan, one of my other bandmate and best friends.

“Go ahead. If you’re thinking about looking for a mental health facility to stick her in instead, I know just the one to put her in.”

 I snorted. “Maybe later. Has she mentioned anything major to you? Anything a while back?”

“Nope. Everything’s fine,” she answered.

“Okay. Thanks, Dani,” we hung up and I looked over at Liam.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She’s ignoring Dani for some reason. I swear, I don’t know what to do with this girl,” I sighed.

“Wanna take a break and go see Zayn? That might cheer you up,” he suggested.

 I nodded, standing up and he clapped me on the shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll call her in a bit to see if she’s actually okay. We’ve only been gone three hours. How much trouble can she get into?” I asked rhetorically, following him out the door. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

 Sirena

I looked at my phone screen as Harry’s face popped up. I bit my lip and declined the call. I was almost to my Gran’s house, according to my GPS and I couldn’t be distracted by Mr. Perfect.

 I turned down a barely visible road, trees so thick they blocked out the overcast sky. About a mile down the secret road, there was a huge stone wall, like a gate house with a gothic wrought iron fence blocking the road. I slowed down as I approached, wondering how I was going to get in when the gate creaked open. A light was flashing on my dashboard and I realized it was an automatic remote sensor. I drove in and followed the massive length of the driveway. It led to a round-about with a little flower bed around a beautiful stone fountain. The house was, in fact, a manor done in a very traditional gothic style.

 A stone vestibule extended from the door out over the gravel drive, protecting the drivers from the rain. I parked under it and got out, grabbing my bags and ringing the doorbell. My grandmother answered, her face lighting up into a huge smile when she realized it was me.

 “Oh, my sweet înger,” she greeted, pulling me into a tight hug.

 I wasn’t feeling much like an angel today, but I kept that to myself. Now was not the time for sarcastic comments. I hugged her back, happy to have something familiar near me.

 “Hi, Gran.”

 She let me go and held me at arm’s length. “This is a nice surprise,” she commented. “Come. Put down your bags. I’ll make you food,” she said, pulling me inside.

 The foyer was massive, dark cherry woods formed archways leading to different areas of the house. The ceiling was slightly domed, designed like a Japanese geisha umbrella. I could almost picture this being a house in Romania. I was turning, trying to take everything in at once, but at the mention of food, my stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry. My stomach is pretty upset. But I will take some water, if you don’t mind,” I said, setting my bags in one of the arm chairs next to the grand staircase.

“Fine, but you’re too skinny. You turn sideways and that handsome young man of yours is going to lose you.”

I rolled my eyes as I followed her to what was presumably the kitchen.

 “Is he here with you?” she asked, glancing around as if maybe he were hiding.

 “No. He stayed home,” I said, feeling myself getting anxious about telling her why I was here. She was never as big as a believer as her mother.

 “That’s too bad. When are you going to make me some grandbabies?” she asked and I felt my face heat up.

 “Maybe someday, Gran. Is Nan home? I have a problem,” I said as we entered the most beautiful kitchen I had ever seen. It was my dream kitchen if I could ever design one. I felt my jaw fall open slightly.

The ceiling was dark wood while the cabinets were a warm chestnut brown. The walls were granite stone blocks fading from a dark brown to a white cream color and rough, not smooth. The counter was granite slabs of the same colors, matching beautifully with the walls and the stone tiles that made up the floor.

The island in the center was massive, about six feet long and four feet wide with drawers on one side, bookshelves at either end for cook books and a microwave underneath across from the stove with cabinet space on either side. On top was a sink, a fruit basket and a cutting board, ready for use. On the other side of the kitchen was more counter space with a secondary sink, dishwasher and a large arched window looking out over the massive rolling backyard. A matching breakfast bar ran the width of the back of the kitchen and I could very easily see myself getting comfortable in a life here.

“No. She’ll be home soon. Sirena, what’s the matter?” she asked, looking at me.

“I’m in love with this kitchen.” I said, walking around the island.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen it before,” she laughed.

“Just… in constant awe,” I lied.

“Have a sit,” she pointed to the breakfast bar and went to the tall cabinets, pulling on one, which turned out to be the fridge. She filled a glass of water and set it in front of me.

“Thank you.”

 She sat next to me as I took a small sip. “Is it Harry’s?” She asked and I choked.

“What?”

“The baby that’s making you sick enough to rush up here on short notice. Is it Harry’s?”

“I’m not pregnant. This is way worse.”

“Something you need Nan for?” she raised an eyebrow.

 I nodded, feeling my stomach climbing into my throat. I didn’t trust myself to speak as I covered my mouth.

“Your eyes always lose their sparkle when you’re sick,” she looked at me curiously. “Bathroom is through that door and to the left,” she pointed without looking.

 I rushed to find it, emptying my stomach once more. I quickly rinsed my mouth out when I was done and I could hear voices in the kitchen. I went back out and reclaimed my seat as Nan was putting things away in the cupboards. I always loved seeing my Nan. As a team, they taught us Romanian from a young age because she only ever speaks her native language.

“Ah, fata frumoasa mea, când ai ajuns aici?” she asked, hurrying over to give me a big hug.

“She said-“ Gran started.

“She wanted to know how long I’ve been here. I know. I remember my lessons, Gran,” I said with a smile, turning to my great grandmother. “I got here about five or ten minutes ago. I haven’t been here long, Nan,” I promised and she smiled happily, pulling back to take a good look at me.

 She searched my face, her smile fading. “Arati diferit,” she commented and I frowned.

“What do you mean ‘I look different’? Different how?” I asked, confused.

“Ești o versiune diferită de tine.”

“A different version? Yes! Nan-that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!” I said excitedly, realizing she would actually believe me.

“Oh, mama,” Gran started, waving her hand.

“No, Gran. She’s right. That’s why I’m here. Yesterday-I was living in Texas and single. And then I have this crazy dream and I wake up dating Harry Styles, and living with him in London for a year,” I said, my eyes starting to fill with tears. I hate crying. I tried to blink back the tears of frustration as Nan perked up when I mentioned a dream.

“Vis? În ea a fost acolo o mulțime de ceață?” she asked.

“Yes! There was so much mist I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and it tingled, like static. And then this thing started chasing me so I ran.” I recalled, seeing the dream vividly in my mind. “Then images started flashing on either side of my path, like projections on movie screens and I heard someone calling my name.”

“Who was it?” Grandma asked, leaning forward on her elbows interestedly.

“Harry. I felt like it was coming home after months of being apart when I saw him. I couldn’t breathe, it felt so real.”

“Because you love him.”

“Gran, I didn’t even know him before this morning,” I sighed, brushing away the tears that spilled over.

“Spune-mi ce sa întâmplat în continuare.”

“Okay, so next I reached a bridge. This dilapidated, broken wooden rope bridge that looked like it hadn’t been touched in two hundred years. Harry was on the other side, so I crossed it and then I was struck by lightning. Harry and I both fell over the edge. Then I woke up on my father’s couch in a stranger’s apartment in a country that I’ve never even been to.” Gran sat back and looked at her mother.

“Mama, you don’t think,” Gran started.

“Fulger? În cazul în care a făcut-o ai lovi?”

“On my shoulder,” I said, gesturing to the back side of my left shoulder.

“Show her, child,” Gran urged and I pulled my jacket off.

 I pulled my arm out of my sleeve and lifted up my shirt to expose my back as they both walked behind me. Nan’s cold fingers touched my bare shoulder lightly and I winced.

“That’s where it’s been hurting all day,” I said quietly.

“Your scar hurts?” Gran asked.

“What scar? I don’t have a scar back there.”

“You were struck by lightning when you were seven. You don’t remember?” she asked.

“Gran, except for my Dream-I’ve never been hit by lightning,” I said seriously.

“Show me how to take a picture on that fancy phone of yours. I can never remember,” she held out her hand and I pulled out my cell.

 I ignored the voicemail from Harry and opened the camera app. “Just push this button right here,” I showed her and moved my long hair out of the way.

 Nan lifted my shirt more and I heard the click of the camera.

“Here,” Gran handed my phone back and I pulled up the photo.

 Starting at my left shoulder and spreading down and across my back was what looked like a lightning bolt. Not the aluminum foil kind in a school play, I’m talking the ‘turn-night-into-day’ kind in the sky. Ugly, purple splotches spread around the impact site and the scar itself was pink and angry looking, which means it was still fresh.

“I’ve never had that scar before, Nan.”

 She came back around to face me, her look very serious.

 “I remember the stories you used to tell us, about Ivan, about being able to change things by wishing. The power you talked about, you never came out and said it, but it was magic, wasn’t it?” I guessed and she nodded.

“Ivan kept a journal about all the wishes he made in the dreams. We can get them for you if you want. I just don’t know how much good it’s going to do for you,” Gran said uncertainly.

 “Because he didn’t change everything around him in a nap” I said and she nodded.

 “For two hundred years, Ivan and his descendants kept journals about wishing, describing each dream and wish they made. The journals include more than just that, though. Day to day occurrences that affect the dreams and wishes. Then all of a sudden, they just stop. No more wishing and no more journals. The stories were passed down as just that, stories. The journals were kept safe and preserved, just in case the magic came back.”

 I felt my stomach starting to act up again. “Why?” I asked, my muscles jangling.

“Who knows? Maybe they had a lemon of a kid who didn’t get the gift, or didn’t believe. Maybe they decided we had enough money so they didn’t need to keep wishing. For whatever reason, the magic stopped for two hundred years. Until you.”

“Why me?” I asked, trying to control my shaking.

 “Prin toate drepturile, ar trebui să fie mort.” Nan said.

 I felt the blood drain from my face. “Dead? Why should I be dead?” I exclaimed, my voice cracking slightly.

“Mama!” Gran scolded. She looked back at me, but there was no avoiding this answer. “There was one account of a family member who died during his dream. Someone filled in the journal telling of how miserable he was without the girl he loved. So he tried to wish her back to life, or himself into a new life where she was still alive. The theory was, the stress of such a big wish was what killed him.”

 I opened my mouth, but she clearly wasn’t done.

 “But why you survived, now that’s curious. Maybe the magic was building up all this time like carbonation behind a cork. Maybe you were really unhappy in your life and your wishing was just so much that it turned it back on like a light switch,” she shrugged. “Or maybe you’re incredibly powerful. I mean-you changed your whole life. Not just dreaming of investments, but your whole life, complete with memories,” she continued and I shook my head.

“All of my memories are from my old life.”

“The memories I mean are the ones you described in your dream. The projections on the mist. But in all the accounts I’ve read, I’ve never heard of mist that thick. And you said the bridge was broken down.”

“I’m confused,” I held up my hand, pausing them. “Be right back,” I hurried to the bathroom once more. I rinsed out my mouth once I was done and my phone started ringing. I jumped and pulled it out to see Harry’s face. I bit my bottom lip and declined the call again. I didn’t want to talk to him and say something really wrong. Not at least until I had time to adjust. I went back out and Gran frowned.

“Was that Harry calling?” she asked. I nodded.

“Probably freaking out about where his girlfriend is,” I muttered. “Do we know where she went?” I asked.

“She is you. You’re still the same person, she just has more memories than you, different ones. You should talk to him. You’ll feel better,” she said as I took my seat again.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. My throat was raw and sore from vomiting so often today.

“We’ll explain more tomorrow. But for now, you should call Harry and rest.”

“But what if I say something totally wrong?”

“So, make him do all the taking. It will help you sleep,” she said confidently.

“Why?”

“Am putea spune despre boală înainte de a merge,” Nan said and my brown eyes widened.

“Illness? Yes, tell me about the illness. I knew this was killing me,” I muttered. Gran gave her mother another look.

“It’s not a big deal, nothing life threatening, înger,” she said, placating me.

“Considering that I should be dead and I can’t stop throwing up, please tell me.”

“Ivan would get these headaches after his wishes. Not your average headaches, these were bad-in bed for days bad. They would stop once the investments started paying off. It’s just a side effect of separation from what you wished for, for some reason, and as far as we can tell-the bigger the wish the more severe the illness.”

“Great. So what do I do?”

“Spend time with Harry. He’s clearly what you wished for. He’ll make you better. Some of Ivan’s kids described what felt like a clicking in their chest the exact moment the illness stopped.”

 I nodded and stood up.

 “We’ll explain more tomorrow,” Gran added, standing up as well and leading me towards the stairs.

“Gran, what about Alek?” I asked.

“He’s good. Studying in Cardiff at the moment. They have a wonderful genealogy program there.”

 I breathed a little sigh of relief. “Do I still speak to him?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes, but he’s not a fan of your boyfriend,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve seen the way that young man looks at you and I can see why Aleksei is so protective,” she added, leading me down a long hallway and through a doorway into a very impressive bedroom. It had a California king four post bed that looked absolutely to die for. At the foot of the bed was a couch in front of a fireplace. A small, two-person glass table sat off to the side in a little alcove.

“This is mine all the time?” I asked, setting my bags on the bed.

“Yes. Your sister has the room next door and your brother down the hall. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I like to sleep in, but my crazy mother rises early. Michael gets here at about ten. Yes, you’ve met him before.”

 I nodded. “Who’s Michael?” I asked.

“He comes in to clean for us,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and from her tone, I expect Michael will be very good looking.

“Okay.”

 She kissed my cheek and left, closing the door behind her. I grabbed my pajamas, an oversized tee shirt and some boy short panties, and changed, picturing Harry’s face the whole time. It was still pretty early, but after a whole day of being sick, I was exhausted.

“I wonder what you’re doing,” I murmured, grabbing my toothbrush and going to the en-suite bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth and got comfy in bed. I dialed Harry’s number and waited for him to answer. I could do this. I was still the same person. I mean, honestly, how much could I have changed? The ringing stopped and there was silence on the other end for a moment.

“Please tell me you’re not dead on a ditch somewhere,” he said, his voice tight.

 I thought about how I would respond and decided to just be myself. I would deal with any backlash. “And this is what, exactly? My ghost calling you to tell you which one?” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh, thank god. You’re fine.”

 I felt the churning in my stomach ease slightly. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t get to answer your calls earlier. The first time I was driving and the second time I was talking to my grandma.”

 He we quiet for a minute. “I have so many things I want to say to you right now,” he muttered.

 “Say them,” I prompted.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Just taking off and not telling me where you were going! Don’t you know how worried I was? Where in the world are you? Dani called me saying you were ignoring her. I thought you two had plans to go pick up your dresses for the album release party. I don’t even know what’s going on with you these days, between the drinking and whatever drugs you’re doing-it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. And I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what happened, but you clearly don’t,” he took a deep breath and I brushed away the tears that had fallen.

 Fake me had screwed up big time.

“Harry-“

“I’m not done,” he said, his tone a little softer now and I had a feeling that the angrier part was over.

“Okay, sorry.”

“I wish you would have waited for me. You know I love going to see your grandmothers. And we could have gone to see my mum and made a vacation out of it,” I waited for him to continue. “Now I’m done.” 

I sniffled reflexively. “Harry. I don’t know where to start. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve been putting you through lately. I know this isn’t what you signed up for. The drinking and partying-it’s done. Ends now. I swear it. I know I’ve probably said that a million times, but this time I mean it. I don’t care how long it will take for me to make this up to you, I’ll do it. And as for what happened, I’m not sure. But as soon as I figure it out, I’ll tell you. I’ll always tell you. And as for where I am, I’m at Gran’s. I didn’t even think about your mom. This was a last minute thing that had to be done. I know that doesn’t help, but it was important,” there was a long pause and I could feel the change in the conversation.

 He was done being mad.

“When are you coming home?” he asked softly and I had no problem imagining him lying in our bed in just his boxers.

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. I’m not sure yet.”

“I really miss you, Si.”

“I miss you, too,” I replied, only half surprised to find that it was true. I had liked Harry Styles before the wish, but now? I don’t know what I would do without him. And that was the problem. My heart said I was crazy in love but my head said you can’t be in love with someone you just met.

“Are you feeling any better? I know this morning you said you were feeling sick.”

“I’ve actually been sick all day. That’s part of the reason I came here. They have all these crazy Romanian remedies. I can’t even keep water down. So, maybe it’s a good thing I’m not there so I don’t get you sick, too,” I said, stifling a yawn.

“You should get ready for bed,” he said.

“All done. I’m in my pajamas, which I believe is actually one of your shirts and a pair of boy shorts.”

“Mmm. You’re so mean to me,” he sighed.

 I snuggled down under the covers and turned off the lights. “You love when I’m mean to you,” I teased, surprised at how normal joking with him felt.

“I wish you hadn’t left. I really miss you.”

“I’ll be home soon. There was just something I had to do here. I know it doesn’t make sense, Harry and I’m sorry,” I closed my eyes, relaxing to the sound of him breathing.

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me when you get home,” I smiled. “What can I do to help, baby?”

“Stay on the phone with me? You’re making me feel better,” I said honestly.

“How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“Tell me what you did with Liam today,” I said, getting into my favorite sleeping position.

 He began talking and I drifted off to the sound of his perfect voice.

Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @dsakita​ @i-have-arrived-bitch

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 225: Interview with a Vampire

Previously on BnHA: The Shigaraki Squad (after some debate) set out to rescue Giran from the Liberation Army’s clutches. Tomura plans to sic Gigantomachia on them, although the guy is still a-snooze for the next two and a half hours, so who even knows how that’s gonna work. Anyways though, the rest of the gang, Dabi included (over his protests), arrived at the designated meeting location in Aichi prefecture to be greeted by none other than Slidin’ Go, because apparently you can’t fucking trust anyone nowadays. He led them to the center of the town, which turned out to be populated by members of Re-Des’s army, including his top brass. Everyone attacked at once, and the League set to work kicking ass and not even bothering to take names because they’re just gonna kill everyone anyway so who cares! The chapter ended with Toga gettin’ ready to throw down with Kizuki, a.k.a. my new badass lady villain fave who can blow shit up with her mind, holy crap.

Today on BnHA: The Liberation Army continues to battle the League, confident in their eventual win, mostly because Re-Destro has somewhat smugly deduced that the League currently has no Noumu to spare. Kizuki, who is apparently a journalist, faces off against Toga and hounds her with questions about her past. Seems she’s specifically the type of journalist that likes to harass people about all of the most personal and private details of their lives. Toga sets to work stabbing all of Kizuki’s redshirt goons and sucking their blood, but this winds up backfiring as Kizuki makes brutal use of her quirk to blow up said blood. So basically she explodes Toga from the inside out. Somehow Toga doesn’t fucking die, and although I Have Questions About This, we can save that for later since the story is moving forward with or without my suspension of disbelief, and next up on the agenda is a motherfucking Toga flashback, folks.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 226, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

hahaha

welcome to Deika City, population: villains

holy heck

so that’s how it is, huh Horikoshi. just make all of my jokes for me before I ever even get the chance. who cares if the references are American. it’s 2019 and our mangaka are international now. next up is Homestuck jokes. I feel attacked

anyway so we’re zooming in on the observation tower again. how nice. is Giran fucking dead yet I wonder

oh hey

not only is he not dead, he’s smiling and taunting RD in spite of having recently lost a hand piece by piece!

you guys. Giran is legit the most OG motherfucker in this entire series, dead to rights. I adore him

and he can’t say he wouldn’t love to watch all that unfold

by the way, getting back to that earlier panel for a second, it occurs to me that of the three “rescue” arcs we’ve had thus far, only one has featured an actual damsel, and that was a baby damsel at that. like, a six-year-old girl. so like, that was more about her being a small child than her being female. and meanwhile the “damsels” in the other two arcs consisted of (a) the toughest motherfucker in class 1-A, and now (b) the most hardboiled fucking guy in the entire series. and by contrast, female characters have played critical roles in all three arcs on the rescuing side, and now we’re about to see two lady villains fucking throw down

like, I know I give Horikoshi a lot of shit for not having more badass female characters, but a lot of that is because BnHA honest to god is a cut above most other shounen manga to begin with when it comes to feminism. and it just makes me want it to be even better, because I know it could be

god, I can’t wait to be reading manga like 20 years from now, though, when Japan is (hopefully) finally a bit more woke

anyway I went on a tangent there didn’t I. so yeah, Giran. MVP

holy shit

son of a bitch can we just take a moment to appreciate how good the villain of this villain arc has been so far, though? like, he’s straight up evil, but not in an obnoxious way like Stain or Overhaul. this piece of shit knows what he’s doing and is cold blooded as fuck and actually seems to have a plan! I hate him and he’s been awesome so far

anyway so here’s his three reasons then

brb just gonna :| about that a bit, and also wonder why the fuck we apparently don’t have anyone this smart on the heroes’ side. except Hawks, maybe. goddamn

although he’s slightly off the mark there though, isn’t he! it’s astounding to me how much these villains -- and well, everyone really, except Bakugou Fucking Katsuki -- are underestimating All for One, though. like, they really think he’s gone for good. Overhaul was out there trying to become the new kingpin, and now RD is smugly monologuing about how the weapons All for One left behind are all gone and the League has no remaining assets left. well, a month and a half ago you wouldn’t have been wrong, RD. but things have changed now pal

and shouldn’t he know about Gigantomachia, though? even the heroes know about that one. if they were spying on the League with a fucking satellite, wouldn’t they have noticed the giant boulder man continuously trying to crush Tomura for two-day stretches at a time??

you guys it’s going to be so fucking satisfying when Tomura crushes this jackass though

and we’ve got some very interesting quirks going on here! someone here seems to have a targeting scope, and they’re firing a fucking laser from their mouth like fucking shoop da whoop lmao

and then there’s that one dude about to throw a fucking Volvo at everyone. and lots of elemental quirks, and one guy who seems to look weirdly similar to Kurogiri. it’s like a fucking Where’s Waldo of villains though

what in the hot hell

??? !?!?

oh I see. so it’s exactly what it looked like

(ETA: but you guys why does it remind me of this:

?????)

Spinner what the fuck is your quirk!?!?

now we’re cutting back to Kizuki yesssssssssssss

she says that all of the army’s soldiers have undergone daily training. oh wow, whoopty freaking doo. good for you guys. so like every other character in this series, then

these “late starters” are going to whoop your ass and I’m so freaking here for it

oh dear

well there goes a great deal of my fondness for Kizuki straight out the fucking door. asshole journalists are pretty high up there on my list of types of people that I hate

(ETA: you know what though, I like that she has a unique personality. even if it’s one that annoys me. she doesn’t just blend in, unlike some other villains I could name (there were eight of them, and they were named after Buddhist precepts, hint hint). plus she really does have the best quirk in the business. Kizuki you’re a real piece of work but I respect you dammit.)

anyway Toga so whose ass do you want to kick first. you got this girl I believe in you

:DDDDDDDD

probably shouldn’t be loudly cheering at this man’s extremely gruesome murder. and yet. here we are

lmaoooooooooooo

while you were talking my girl up and absconded hahaha

friendly reminder that Toga Himiko is like #9 on my list of favorite characters and I would kill for her! I stan one (1) fearless bloodthirsty bitch

wow

all right, geez! fuck, y’all are real sensitive about a little attempted murder

so now Kizuki is asking Toga what kind of life she’s led to end up like this

I honestly want for nothing more than for Toga to have not had any sort of tragedy in her young life whatsoever, and to just be Like That. please. Horikoshi. this better be good

(ETA: it’s mostly good! we’re fine.)

anyway so Toga’s crashing through some stunt glass in the front window of some janky little bar, and skidding to her feet because she’s amazing and won’t let a little thing like being flung through a storefront window stop her

but as she skids, Kizuki is telling her to watch her step and Toga’s looking behind her, startled

oh fuck

joke’s on you, Toga’s amazing and won’t let a little thing like being blown to bits stop her

...right?

(ETA: lol)

interesting that the word “superpower” was used again here instead of “quirk”! what the hell do these guys have against that word anyway. I get that they’re following Destro who laid down the law in his book which is basically their personal bible, but that shit was like 200 years ago though. ah well, cults are weird

anyway so her quirk is Legit though, ngl. what can I say, I have a weakness for quirks that go boom

haha so Toga is fucking fine apparently and she’s sitting there kind of smoking a little and looks a little singed but otherwise not too worse for wear

there’s about half a dozen people attacking her from all sides, though. one of them is carrying a giant stock pot. that shit better not have boiling water in it. listen Liberation Army do you guys want to die fast or slow

oh shit

looks like my girl went and made that decision for you huh

oh my god

finally an explanation for the mask!! after... 150 chapters. holy shit

anyways. thirsty girl. Horikoshi’s got me out here rooting for some decidedly morally grey people, sob, and I ain’t even mad

so Kizuki looks very excited and is realizing that ingesting people’s blood is what lets Toga transform into them. so I guess she knew about her quirk, but not the mechanics of it

(ETA: her interest in this makes sense, though, as it explains the whole “attacked her classmate with a knife and sucked all his blood” thing.)

omg

(ETA: hey, we never did get an explanation for this! Toga are we still waiting on part two of your flashback where you interned at Cirque du Soleil.)

lady. me too. I’m still mad at you, but. we’re on the same side in this instance

DSFKJSDLFKJDSKHFS

NEVER FUCKING MIND!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK

FUCKING -- BUT THEN --

WELCOME TO BNHA WHERE CHARACTERS WILL INDEED DO ALL OF THE FUCKED UP SHIT YOU WERE WONDERING IF THEY WERE CAPABLE OF DOING WITH THEIR POWERS. HOLY SHIT

(ETA: I mean, it’s brutal and I’m mad she hurt my girl, but I’m also so impressed that Kizuki went and used her quirk in such a logical and devastating way. haha but Toga should still be dead though.)

so Kizuki is chiding Toga for attempting to disappear into the crowd, and she says she’s taken measures to ensure that she goes along with her interview

oh my god. fuck her up Toga please. make it hurt. girl

so now she’s bragging about how their soldiers will gladly become detonators! wow!

I love how Horikoshi makes the distinction between villains who at least care about their own, and villains who don’t give a fuck about anybody. like, the League is still evil -- Toga stabbed a man in the neck not ten pages ago -- but there’s no doubt whatsoever who we’re supposed to root for her. Toga is just as crazy as this lady, but she tied a handkerchief around Twice when his mask got torn. meanwhile Kizu blows up her own subordinates so she can get the hot goss from her victims before she murders them

OH HEY TOGA BACKSTORY

(ETA: I’m not sure if the phrase “eldest daughter” implies she has siblings? the flashback wasn’t exactly clear on that either. imagine the drama though! omg.)

this! I’m here for this! details without context! if you show us the context you had better not try to make it all saccharine, Horikoshi, do you hear??

MORE DETAILS

because she felt like it, Kizuki. fuck off

I love the description of her as a bright and reasonable girl, though. back when she first disguised herself as Camie I suspected that it might be her, but it seemed far-fetched because she showed herself capable of being perfectly logical and sane while disguised, and it was a side of her we’d never seen before. but I love that, though. I love that Toga’s particular brand of being unhinged doesn’t require her to be dumbed down. she’s brilliant. she just also happens to really, really like stabbing people

fffffffffdslkaj

(ETA: just for the record, I’m not on Team This Guy Is Somehow Related To Deku, sorry guys. he does look like him, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s just a coincidence. Deku is frequently described as having a very ordinary, plain appearance, so I don’t think it necessarily means anything if we happen to see another minor character who bears a slight resemblance. who knows, though, maybe I’m wrong. we’ve had important characters make their first appearance as background characters before -- Kirishima and Ms. Joke come to mind -- so it’s possible! but for the time being I think the likelihood is fairly low.)

TOGA YOU BETTER NOT DIE. YOU BETTER MURDER THIS LADY WITHOUT GIVING HER THE ANSWER SHE SO DESPERATELY CRAVES, AND ONLY THEN THINK THE ANSWER TO YOURSELF AND YOURSELF ALONE. AND THE ANSWER BETTER BE SOMETHING LIKE YOU WERE TIRED OF BEING NICE AND WANTED TO BE YOUR ACTUAL CRAZY SELF

so help me god you guys I’m like two seconds away from adopting a serial killer. she will not get along with her other siblings and it will not be pretty. but I love her though omg

(ETA: yeah it’s done. it’s a done deal. the boys can look after themselves so it’s not a problem, and Eri... well they’ll just have to keep an eye on Eri. as long as they don’t leave the two of them alone it should be fine! Mirio will look after her.

what even is my current adopted kid count anyways. let’s see... Katsuki, Izuku, Shouto, Mirio, Tamaki, Eri, Hawks, and now Toga. am I missing anyone. -- oh right, Shinsou! so that’s nine. plus the 17 other 1-A kids who are quasi-adopted as well. shit, did I adopt Tomura. I think I was on the fence. my fictional family is getting so complicated lol.)

lol sob

yes Toga you’re so normal. and she likes the Liberation Army sob. of course she does. she likes them so much she’s gonna murder the shit out of them

how is that the end of the chapter. shit. one more week to go and then the Golden Week break fffffff Horikoshi you’d better be kind to us with next week’s cliffhanger. please. omg

(ETA: no complaints whatsoever. that was some good shit.)