#but she could think about the fact that she's sex neutral or whatever for more than 2 seconds

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread    

A Day of Fallen Night

slow character focused epic fantasy prequel to priory of the orange tree

set during the grief of ages, when Wyrms are on the rise and devastating cities across the world

the teen heir to the throne, a middle-aged tomb keeper at the priory, a young warrior from the north, and princess from the mountains of the east

motherhood, survival, politics

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 05

Clockwork x Gender Neutral Reader - Jealousy/Friends w/ Benefits

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Jealousy, toxic, cunnilingus, possessive, friends with benefits, miscommunication, domination, angry sex, degradation

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.0k

A/N: Let’s ignore the canon fact that she doesn’t like to be called Natalie anymore… It’s weird to write out someone moaning the name ‘Clockwork’ HAH

Jingling through your keys, you finally found the one to your front door and shoved it into the lock, pushing the door open. The warmth of your house was much preferred over the chilly night air outside, shedding your jacket once you stepped in and hooking it onto the coat rack. Your friend stepped in with you, closing the door behind herself.

It was hard to see, shoveling around in the dark in search of the light switch, flicking them on once your fingers brushed it. Everything was how you left it the night before, walking towards the kitchen as you tossed your bag onto the counter.

“You can just toss your stuff in my bedroom.”

She nodded, turning down the hall and hauling her backpack with her.

You went about turning your old coffee pot on, pushing your sleeves back as the stout smell of coffee brewing warmed the air. In the mood for a sandwich this late, you collected a few pieces of bread from the pantry and all the other things you preferred, setting everything out, enough for the two of you.

You and your friend from work were planning a little late-night drinking and movies, her boyfriend freshly dumping her and leaving you to console her. You didn’t mind, more than willing to spend a night talking crap and relaing. It was going to be a good night. But as you reached for a knife in the neat knife block you kept, you flinched as you noticed one was missing.

Stepping back, you looked around, searching to make sure you hadn’t unknowingly moved it.

But when you heard the small tap of the blade against something stiff, you turned, pressing your back against the counter.

“Hi, angel.”

“Ah, Natalie… You scared me.”

The girl stood relaxed against the doorframe leading into the kitchen, her arms crossed as she tapped the blade's edge against the clock face lodged into her eye socket. You cringed at every tap, back stiffening straight as you watched her, contents of your meal long forgotten. She had broken in…

Clockwork was no stranger in your home, or to you. Being childhood friends, you had seen the thick and the thin of it, always more than willing to lend your aid when all the shit with her life went down. What neither of you really expected, was the staggering amount of times she would find her way into your bed.

It was nothing serious, just time to blow off steam and be gone by morning, back to whatever life she had away from you. Natalie had her life and you had yours, occasionally mixing the two when you both needed it.

But that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling you got when she pressed off the frame and began to saunter towards you.

“Who’s that?” She slid past the counter, angling the blade of the knife to tap against the polished wood, tapping rhythmically.

“Just a friend.” You could hear her coming back down the hallway, light footsteps pattering closer. You gave a weary look to Clockwork, fingers gripping onto the counter as she appeared in the doorway. She stopped, stunned that another person had appeared, rightfully so. You were just hoping Natalie didn’t decide to turn around and give the poor girl a full view of her left eye.

“[Y/N]? Who’s this?” The air was tense as you looked towards her, weary eyes faking a half-smile. Clockwork was staring daggers down at you, arms crossed and fingers gripped tightly around the hilt of the knife, a warning. You knew what it meant.

“Uh, an old friend. Sorry, but… do you think we could do this another night? I’ll make it up to you.” You gave a sad smile, internally begging her to just agree and leave, glances quick between her and the brunette hovering above you, her demeanor growing impatient.

“Uhm… Sure, yeah. I’ll just, uh, see myself out…” You let out a sigh as she stepped back down the hallway and collected her stuff, a concerned final look as she waved goodbye and quickly left. Clockwork didn’t move until she heard the rumble of your friend’s car leaving the driveway, finally sliding the knife onto the counter as she stepped closer, invading your space.

“What was that for?” You asked, exasperated at her rudeness. You went to press off the counter, ready to kick her out yourself when a firm hand gripped the underside of your jaw. You gasped, fingers pressing into your cheeks and keeping you looking at her face, a scowl plastered as Natalie leaned down to your level.

“Wanna really tell me what was going on here?” Her grasp tightened, a little whimper slipping past as you clawed at her arm.

“I told you, she’s just a friend-”

“Oh, like how I’m just a friend? That’s cute. Were you planning on showing her your idea of being friendly?”

She was mad, eye glaring and teeth gritted as she taunted you. She smiled at your pitiful attempt to struggle against her. You had no idea, but Natalie had just gone through a bad night and all she wanted was to bury herself between your thighs and forget about it.

But when she heard a second pair of footsteps follow you in, she couldn’t help the swell of jealousy that took over her. You didn’t belong to her or see yourself in a relationship with her, but that didn’t stop the possessive tendencies the brunette experienced. You may not be hers, but that cunt sure was. Clockwork was just plain angry, now.

“Nat…” You tried to groan out, but she was shoving you down onto your knees, hand still holding firm on your jaw. Watching through weary eyes, she began to undo her belt, slacking the leather to the side as she unzipped her ragged jeans. It was hard not to whine and struggle against her, your little noises egging her on.

“Sorry? What was that?” She was pushing her jeans down to her midthigh, leaning back against the counter as she dragged your head closer, tangling her hands against the sides of your head. You gasped, hands stabilizing yourself on her knees as you knelt before her, face level with her boxer briefs. “I think you should thank me for not killing her in the first place.”

Reluctantly, you nodded, curling your fingers into the waistband and tugging them down her thighs. You pushed her jeans down to her ankles, shaky hands gripping her knees as she spread her legs further, smiling down at you.

You didn’t get a minute to think before she was pulling your head in, shoving your lips against her warm cunt and sighing above you. You got to work, knowing full well that only doing what she said was the way to get her out of this fit. Spreading your lips, you lapped your tongue through her folds, her hands tight on your head as she groaned, pushing her hips further.

Running your tongue over her clit, she's hissing, angling your head up so she can rut her hips down. She’s practically bullying her cunt onto your tongue, the muscle running through her folds and collecting her slick with little consideration for you or your ability to breathe.

“Such a fuckin’ brat. You seriously- ah- seriously think you can just dismiss me for a friend. I didn’t know friends begged each other to fuck them, angel.” She was being mean and she knew it, your pouty eyes telling her you didn’t mean any harm; didn't stop the swell of anger she felt when she saw you inviting someone else into your home. This was hers.

You whine as you suck on her throbbing clit, her arousal coating your lips as you drank her up. You want to pull back and spew your apologies, pleading that nothing was going to happen, that you belonged to her. But she kept her grasp tight and your face shoved into her cunt, your tongue pressing into the tight ring of her entrance as she groaned. She tasted so good, your fingers gripping her legs as you nudged your jaw open further to soak against her swollen folds.

“See? You’re so easy. It takes nothing before you’re begging to please me like a dog, hah-” Despite her harsh words, her thumbs brushed your cheeks, pushing your hair out of your face as she kept her eye on you. You stared with fluttering eyes at every desperate push of your tongue, leaving her groaning and hissing as she rutted against you.

Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are watery, but Clockwork persists, chasing that twinge in her gut at the way you whine and huff against her cunt.

“So, tell me. Were you- hah- were you planning to show her how good your tongue feels?” You’re shaking your head, trying to at least as Natalie’s fingernails press against the back of your head, tangling into your hair.

“Or, maybe how nice that ass looks after it’s all red with handprints…” The hungry smile plastered on her face has you whining, fingernails digging into the muscle of her legs as you pressed your knees into the tile of the kitchen floor. Your jaw was beginning to hurt, lips suckling on her clit as Clockwork’s thighs tense around your head.

“No- M’promise- Nat-” But her head is tilting back, she writhes as you moan into her wet cunt, the vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up her spine.

“Tell me who you belong to, then, angel.” Clockwork knew she didn’t really own you, too caught up in her life and past to settle down and really take you for herself. But this: this view, your body, your mouth, yeah- those were hers. She wasn’t going to share, no matter how crazy she sounded.

“Mnh, you- Just you- Mnn-” You bully your tongue back into the tight stretch of her cunt, her walls fluttering around your tongue as you nudge your jaw up, shoving your nose against her clit.

“Sorry- aha- come again?” She was close, the way her thighs trembled and voice became shaky giving it away.

“Nata- Natalie- All yours-”

Maybe it’s the sickly sweet way you moan her name against the slick of her puffy cunt. Or maybe it was the way you ground your jaw as you plunge your soft tongue deeper into her plushy walls. But most of all, it was how you looked up at her, bright eyes fluttering with eager intent, filled with nothing but want.

Because she’s cumming, and cumming so messily all over your mouth. “Fuck- Yeah, mhn-”

But you don’t stop, continuing to dip your tongue into the velvety flush of her cunt as Clockwork strains above you, clenching the back of your head tight against her. It finally takes her dragging you back by the hair, her heavy eyes and flushed face bending down to yours. Her slick is glossed so prettily all over the bottom half of your face, a thumb coming to swipe at your lips before she’s shoving her lips against yours. You both groan, tangling your hands into each other's hair as she drags you back up to your feet.

It’s a blur of haze as she’s dragging her jeans back up, wrapping a tight fist around the back of your neck and holding you tight against her.

“I think I deserve to watch this ass bounce on my strap, yeah? What’dya say, angel?” A lazy nod and you’re being tugged down the hall towards your bedroom, cold coffee long forgotten.

It was toxic, and nasty, and possessive as fuck, but you both knew it was perfect for each other. Your lives were so different, so intense, so if you could spare your nights for just a while- being a little jealous wasn’t so bad.

Natalie kept a hold on what was hers, and maybe, you could be one of those some day, too.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[simp4konig]

I'm so normal about Nikto rn

Mildly nsfw?? Idk just a heads up

But just

Nikto, gripping her hips, thinking to himself: She's just being friendly- she's just being friendly- think pure thoughts

Y/N, sitting on his lap and holding his face hostage between her titties, thinking to herself: I wonder when he's gonna make the first move... do I have to make it if he doesn't? Oh my god what if I've been reading him wrong all along and he doesn't even like me??

Nikto: Well, maybe I am obsessed with you

Y/N: Well, maybe I like that :lipbite:

Flirtatious Reader x ...Dense? Nikto

Fem! Reader coded, BUT it can be viewed as gender-neutral if you squint. 🩷💟💜

Word Count: 2237

🪼

Reader is addressed as "You". No Y/N used.

May be self-indulgent. May be a projection of my own feelings. Oops. 🙊

Please read the * at the end of the post for my clarification 💙🩵🤍.

Edit: Minor typos. I fucking hate EVERYTHING!!!

❗SUGGESTIVE CONTENT AND SOME DISTURBING IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT ❗ (No sex nor anything overly grotesque, but includes some descriptions of both). Readers are warned for suggestive content.

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Well.

The title is perhaps a teeny, weeny little tiny bit misleading 🤏…

…

…Who am I kidding 💀,, it's as misleading as it gets LMAO

Because let's not kid ourselves here: Nikto is NOT "dense", NOT an "oblivious" man, NOR is he the type to be misinformed about someone's objective[s].

Nikto is a perceptive man — he's interrogated enough people to know what makes them tick, to distinguish lie from truth.

If somebody's intentions aren't innocent and they have ulterior motives, Nikto is always the first to know; it's his job to be informed, after all.

Hence, he notices the intonations of someone's voice growing or lowering, the imperceptible change in pitch, their nervous stutter as they unconvincingly concoct a lie, how their testimony does not align with the facts, and how they've suddenly become fidgety and shift from his scrutiny...

Hence, he recognises the subtle shifts in someone's facial expressions, can read between the lines of their non-verbal gestures, their change in behaviour, their overall unease expressed without them realising it, how they're giving themselves away no matter what they say…

Hence, he takes notices the way that someone fiddles agitatedly with something in their hands, how they pick at their nails in an almost panicked way or dig their fingernails into the skin of their palms, how they're biting their bottom lip or chewing on their cheek, how their smile is lopsided and doesn't quite reach their eyes, how they avert their gaze…

Nikto is anything but perceptive. He isn't oblivious — not "ignorant", not "unaware", and certainly not "stupid", or any other words synonymous with the previous — especially when it regards what people think of him.

How people think that he's disgusting.

How everyone avoids him like the Black Death, as if he's diseased and close proximity could kill you. As if his disfigurements were contagious, and the best bet would be to stay far, far away from the diseased.

Therefore, he's not oblivious that the words which you would whisper into the brocoli ears obscured by his mask are innuendo for something for more; he's not oblivious of the sexual nature of your hands absentmindedly caressing his lower abdomen, simply inches from his clothed crotch; he's not oblivious that your touches are quite risqué, that you would provoke him on purpose, that you would sit directly on his lap and feign innocence as you would flutter your eyelashes and smile ever so sweetly.

Nikto is perceptive. Very perceptive. And he's certainly not stupid...

...they just don't perceive your flirtatious actions as anything other than some joke.

So, he has rationalised your flirtatious behaviour as friendliness. As how you express your personal affection. Or, affectations.

Whatever it is that you're expressing, it must be a joke. Surely.

Since you're the Beauty, he's the Beast. But, unlike the Beast, he is a monster which cannot be redeemed. He's been cursed to suffer mortal purgatory, while immortal, demonic voices haunt him every hour, every minute, every second of every day. It's torture.

And you want to torture him some more by tormenting him with your unashamedly forward displays, your devilish seduction, tempting him into finally taking what he's been desiring ever since you arrived in his life.

How could you want him? Do you even want him?

No. You don't. There is no way that you do.

Because he's not talkative like some of the other operators, not hilarious like the colleagues who make you laugh, not affectionate like a lover could, not good company, not a good person as a whole.

He's introverted to a concerning amount, so silent that sometimes he appears deceased as he lies next to you on the nights you come over.

Maybe it all used to come naturally to him, but it's a struggle to feign his role as a functioning human being, so to actually be one? Sometimes he questions if he's more monster than man, as that role seems to be effortless.

Perhaps this is all some heartless idea of a practical joke, some sort of sick sense of satisfaction arising in you to toy with Nikto's emotions. And, like a child bored of that toy, discard it in favour of a newer, better, prettier one.

Why would you want to be around him? What is there to like? Is there even anything to like?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Because what's there to like? Frankly, if he doesn't like himself — or selves — then how could he expect you to like him? All of him? Them?

This isn't affection, he would tell himself; either it's disingenuous and forced, or you're faking it for your own amusement.

Or... maybe it is genuine, and it isn't fake... but it's all an act of pity, since you feel sympathy for the lonely outcast and have some sort of strange moral obligation to a lunatic as fucked-up, ugly, and disfigured as him, whose been unable to have a meaningful relationship — platonic or otherwise — in years.

Especially right now, with you straddling his lap and cradling his masked face in between your breasts, he still can't wrap his head around it, and it's all incomprehensible.

At times, Nikto has considered that he's overthinking it, and that you have no ill intentions, and you're just innocent and clueless with how much you affect him.

And it would have been endearing if it wasn't so fucking frustrating.

With that in mind, for him to make the first move and jeopardise what he thought you thought was a strictly platonic friendship? He couldn't be more sorry, and would leave you alone forever and never speak to you again, even if it was physically painful and equivalent to ripping his own heart out and squeezing it until its contents popped — just for the pain and the heartache to go away forever.

...

Seriously. It's so fucking frustrating, and it's as if he's being wilfully ignorant or something, and doing it on fucking purpose.

He's delusional, yes, and you've always acknowledged the fact that more than a few screws were loose, but the entire mechanism, but it pisses you off that he continues to delude himself, rather than accept that your affection is genuine, and not some cruel joke.

You don't get bored of him, and won't. Ever.

Yes, he's not talkative, but you find solace in presence and relish the peace and quiet; yes, his sense of humour is nonexistent, but you don't need to be laughing when he still brings a loving smile to your lips; yes, he's introverted, but does that really matter? To you, you being the exception to his isolation is worth everything.

Do you care that he's not a good person? No. To some extent, neither are you — you're no saint yourself. Nikto's morals may not be grey, but smudged entirely, and his methods questionable…

…and? You don't have it in you to care. Because it has reached a point where Nikto genuinely cares for you, and you likewise for him, and his actions demonstrated what he could never convey through words; that he would never, ever hurt you. And that's enough.

As for him not being naturally affectionate?

Well. You've tried everything: guiding his hands onto your hips; sitting in his lap and straddling his lower half, arms around his neck; hell, even flashed your tits under the guise of the clasp of your unintentionally becoming undone, and, oh, could you please do it for me, Nikto? You aren't bothered by the nudity? Sorry. That was just a wardrobe mishap. You don't mind, right? You can touch all you like, because I don't mind.

But he doesn't respond. Doesn't fucking do anything. Just has his shoulders tense and arms loose by his sides, not reciprocating any touch, not touching you unless you give him permission, as if he's been lobotomised and can only take explicit orders.

You're exasperated. It's exhausting.

But how much more goddamn obvious can you be? What will it take for him to open his eyes and see that this isn't a game to you? That you're willingly giving yourself to him, because you want to? Because you want him?

And, yes, his hands twitch with the gnawing itch to touch you; his body shakes with anticipation, antsy; his shoulders are tense, back straight as a plank, muscles flexing with restraint; and, of course, he's so fucking hard that he's almost nauseous.

But will he dare misinterpret your suggestive behaviour as anything more than flirtation, teasing, and risk jeopardising his whole friendship with his one and only friend? No. Not a fucking chance.

One of these days, you swore, you were going to tear off his mask clean off his face and grab his jaw to roughly kiss him on his scarred, mishapen, and malnourished lips, only pulling away when neither of you can breathe, then look him dead in those steel blue eyes and confess that you don't give a shit what, who, or why he is, only that you want him, uncaring of the whats, the whos, and the whys — especially the "whos".

No amount of initiating physical contact could entice him to touch you. You were at wits' end.

One of those days came; and that day was today, as you two were lounging on the bed, with your arms wrapped around his neck and legs straddling his lap.

Sheepishly, you untangle your limbs from around his, and crawl to sit beside him, legs tucked up to your chest and arms wrapping themselves around your knees pitifully if it wasn't for the fire in your eyes.

"...Nikto."

Nikto's back straightens at the speed of light at your tone of voice.

...Oh. Oh God.

This is it, he thinks. This is the day where everything ends. Eventhough you're his everything and that without you he'll be nothing, you're going to tell him to go, to get off you, because you've realised that he isn't worthy of your time or your company. Or maybe you've discovered his obsession — you — and the shrine he keeps of your stolen "lost" possessions and prays to it as if by an altar, how he would worship the ground you work on if it wasn't so conspicuous, how you're the only reason he hasn't given up and put a bullet straight through his own skull so the voices shut up once and for all and—

"Do... you even like me?"

...What.

What.

What?!

Like you? Are you serious?!

He doesn't like you! He couldn't ever like you!

He adores you! Loves you! Worships you! But even then, no synonyms of these words would sufficiently convey his adoration, his unconditional love, his devotion. Would kneeling by your knees and ripping his beating heart out be enough? It still wouldn't. So he won't... mostly for your sake.

Struck dumb, dumbfounded, and utterly confused, he stares at you, his bloodshot steel blue eyes unblinking. Since he can see how your eyes are glistening, he's willing tears on your behalf, just so tears don't stain that pretty face.

Eventually, he says with complete certainty: "...Like would be putting it lightly."

"Then..."

You sniff, and Nikto flinches, but he otherwise remains stiff, not wanting to touch you and make your state worse.

"...then why won't you touch me? Don't you... find me attractive?"

Instantly, he states: "Because the touch of our hands would insult your body."

"You've... you've got to be fucking joking."

"No."

"Is... i-is this some— some kind of fucking joke?"

"...No."

Sadness dissipating, it transforms into incredulity, until you almost laugh. This is unbelievable. It would be endearing if it wasn't so fucking frustrating. You don't know if you want to punch him or kiss him.

"Nikto. Nikto Nikto Nikto. For crying out loud — I WANT you to touch me."

"We're… I'm fucked up. You should have... better."

"Haven't you ever considered that I like my man fucked up?"

Oh God.

Man. Not men. Man.

“You... still should have better.”

You snort in amusement. "What, someone more fucked up than you?"

You roll your eyes, almost out of boredom, but you don't miss how his fists clench, blood boiling as he's silently seething at the mere idea of someone else stealing you. Having you.

“Better is not an option. From my eyes, you're the best man for me out there.”

A wheeze leaves his broken vocal cords — a poor imitation of a human laugh.

But it wasn't a laugh. He isn't laughing. Miraculously, tears collect at the corners of his dehydrated eyes, and he thinks that he might cry.

His voice cracks as he asks uncertainly: “...Best?”

“The very best," you affirm with a smile.

He must be dreaming. This is all a dream. It's everything that he's been dreaming about. Maybe he's dreaming right now, and he'll wake up in a cold bed. Alone.

“Well… maybe I am obsessed with you."

"Maybe?"

"...I am obsessed with you."

"Okay."

"Maybe... we're so possessive that we'll never let you go. Never."

"Never?"

"Never."

“Well,” you begin, clucking your tongue, as if chastising him with the "tsk". “Maybe I like that. Maybe I like being wanted like that.”

"...You won't."

"I do. Otherwise, I wouldn't have even entertained the idea of being around you. If I was a rational person, I'd have ran for the hills. But? I'm not."

"..."

"Now touch me already," you say, unceremoniously snatching his idle hands and guiding them onto your body. "I'm yours. Don't wait for permission like some fucking dog."

You don't have to tell him twice.

"Yes."

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*imma b real w u guys, i had no fucking idea what to name this: ...Oblivious Nikto? ...Ignorant Nikto? ...Delusional Nikto? ...Unaware Nikto?... eventually I settled with "dense", tho i STILL don't know if that's suitable?????

Anyways... sorry for the sort of misleading title??? It was not intentional 🥲. The only reason that it's addressed at the beginning is because I didn't want any misconceptions about what I think of Nikto. No, he is not oblivious, as I gone above and beyond to clarify at the start. 😭

A/N:

To 🪼 anon sending me the asks: I love you. And I love you. Did I mention that I love you? Because I love you. 💫💖✨💖✨🧡🧡💫💖✨💖✨🧡🧡🧡💖✨💖✨💖🧡🧡✨✨✨ (im the monster under your bed, but instead of scaring you, i hold your hand at night 😈... I LOVE UUU/!!!!!!!! 🧡🧡🧡💖✨✨✨💫💖🧡🧡💫✨💫 DONT THINK THAT I DONT SEE YOU 👿👿👿!!!! ggRRGRHGKG FROM NOW ON ALL OF MY NIKTO WORKS ARE A PERSONAL TRIBUTE TO U IDONT EVEN CARE ANYMORE)

Random notes:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO NIKTO, THE UGLY UGLY UGLY MOTHERFUCKER!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎊🎉🎊🎊🎊🎊🎁🎁🎁🎂🎁🎁🎉🎊🎊🎉🎊🎊🎊🎊🎉 (yes his bd is tomorrow but i dont CARE!!!!!!)

Nikto and I are both Libras... 😳 OMgogmgomg we are DESTINED to be together!!! 🫣🫣😫💦💦💦💦💧🌊1!1!1!1!!!!! GUys IT WAS FATE! 1!1!1!!!!1!!!!!!!! /j

Ok but /srs, got the Ghostrunner 2 Endless Moto DLC for my birthday and ive never been happier omg 🥹 (going to replay the whole game all over again lmao 💀)

Lastly? Um. I love you all!!! Thanks for 750+ followers???+@?! When did THAT happen? @?!@??????!?? 😭😭😭💫💫💫💫 THANK YOUUU 🫶🫶🫶🫶💖💖💖💖

[personasintro]

Employed 01 | jjk

⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴; Being independent while living the harsh reality of adulthood is sparked by arrogance in the form of the most infuriating man you've ever met.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: ceo!jungkook x reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: explicit language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 16.4k+

banner by: @archivedkookie // thank you so much again for making this for me! ♡

index (to be added)

El: I think I'm drunk again

"think or know?"

El: know then

El: turns out I didn't have sex yesterday 

El: god I already masturbated twice today!!!

You could survive without that information, a snicker leaving your mouth at your best friend's messages. She had a date yesterday. Well, you're not sure if it was officially a date or she just hung out with one of her co-workers she's been flirting with for weeks now. 

Elaine broke up with her then boyfriend recently. This co-worker of hers has caught her eyes even when she was in a relationship (with a total douchebag). Not mentioning he's still in a relationship with his girlfriend. They're not on good terms either but still. It's complicated and who are you to judge?

"make it three then" 

El: it's not helping :/

"because he's all you're thinking about"

That one is true. He's been a topic number one in any of your conversations.

El: that's true lol

El: but I'm kinda scared to get involved with someone from my work

"I'm not surprised, it usually is like that"

"but look, you're never gonna find out if you don't try it"

While you're trying to be as supportive as a best friend can be, you do have your own opinion about her little shenanigans. But in the end, you do want her to be happy and not be depressed because of her two failed relationships from before. This guy at least seems to be treating her right and he's a proper gentleman. Not a red flag which cannot be said about the previous two ones. 

El: so you think I should give it a chance?

Jumping from one relationship to another is... you're not sure what to think of it. Everyone's different and you try to keep being open-minded. If he makes her happy and she wants to try it, why not? 

You know you would be more wary, especially after a heartbreak. You would focus on yourself first, recharge and regain self-love or whatever people do after a break-up. 

Before you can type your reply, another message pops up.

El: because he treats me right and everything's perfect... I'm just scared of that one fact of working together

"well working with friends or family never does any good, the same goes for relationships"

That's a fact. In most cases it's the worst anyone can do. 

"but try it if you feel like that's the right thing"

You're not one of those friends who give false hope. You're honest, try to be without getting too honest which could potentially hurt someone. Elaine is a wonderful woman. You've known her for years and have been best friends just as long. It's unfortunate the majority of your communication is done through messages and occasional video calls. Ever since you moved out of the country, you've been away from everyone. 

However, you knew what you would lose in order to pursue a different life you always wanted.

El: what about you tho? have you found yourself a job yet?

The question you've found unpleasant back home – and you still do. 

"no :("

El: don't worry! you just got there

El: I'm sure you'll find one soon x

Sighing, you wish Elaine's words would come true. Preferably very soon.

You send her a quick thank you with a heart emoji before someone slides onto the opposite seat. Met with a wide grin and crinkled eyes at the ends, your before neutral expression turns into a surprise and happiness. You didn't hear him coming!

"Hobi!" you greet him after not seeing his face for a few days.

He's been your friend for quite some time now. Actually, it's safe to say he's been a huge help ever since you decided to move here. It lasts until now and without his help, you're not sure if you would've ever had the guts to leave the comfort of familiarity of your country.

"Hey," he greets, laughing a little as the air becomes more cheerful. Or maybe it's only you and the fact he's no stranger to you. 

Having prying eyes on you almost all the time is still a little uncomfortable. As if they knew you're a foreigner right out of the bat.

Hoseok chose to meet up at his favorite place. He's a little late, but you don't have the heart to scold him for it. You know it's only your anxiety of having to be here alone, feeling strangers' eyes on you. Luckily, you did the typical trick. Staring into your phone, minding your business and trying to act unbothered. 

"Have you ordered anything yet?"

"Ah, no," you shake your head, "Was waiting for you."

You had to tell the older lady to give you more time since your friend should be arriving anytime soon. 

"Sorry for running late, traffic here is no joke." he apologizes, shrugging his overshirt as he hangs it over the bag of his stool.

"It's fine." you tell him, catching his amused expression which causes you to purse your lips. 

"No scolding?"

"I was about to but I changed my mind."

"Of course you were." he laughs.

Before another word can be uttered and a fit of giggles surround the round table, what you assume is the owner – the same lady that asked you for your order earlier – comes back with the same kind smile. Hoseok says both your orders, already knowing your usual choice since you're here the third time already. Like you said, it's his favorite place to eat. Korean barbecue is definitely worth every penny. 

"I didn't wanna tell you on the phone but–" He giggles when he notices your wary look. "You haven't found a job yet, right?" He makes sure.

For some reason, your cheeks heat up in guilt. Guilt from not being able to find out despite living here for two weeks. Okay, it might not be a long time but the whole process of finding a job is way harder. You've been through something similar back in home. Having to experience this all over again feels very saddening. You would lie if you told you haven't had any expectations. Of course, you know it's not going to be easy but still. You hoped it would be easier.

You're a little fucked up from the situation back home. The months you waited to get a job and then lose it in the span of one month. Wasn't your fault, but it still hurts though. 

Shortly said, you just can't allow yourself to experience that again. 

"No." you mumble, placing your elbow on the table as you prop your chin on your palm. 

"Perfect," he says, met with a raised brow from you. "I have a friend."

"Oh god."

"No, listen to me," he presses. 

Hoseok has a lot of friends. Different types of friends. While you haven't been able to meet most of them (which you're sure is not even possible since he's got a lot of them), you've heard of them. 

"He owns a company. A very prestigious one," 

That has your eyes widening.

"He's been looking for an assistant, told me about it when we went out for a whiskey."

"Since when do you drink whiskey?"

"Not the point," he grits, "Anyway, he just mentioned it very briefly but then an idea sparked when I was home. How did I not think of it sooner? Right, like–"

"Hobi." You motion for him to shorten it and to get to the fucking point. 

"Right," he laughs, "So–you should work for him."

You blink and stare, breathing out a chuckle. "Just like that?"

"Well, no." he frowns a little, "You should probably go to the interview–but honestly, you have nothing to be scared of."

"But assistant? What are the requirements? What about–"

"He's gonna tell you everything. We don't talk about work much and he only briefly mentioned looking for an assistant. But you're great and skillful. What else do you need to be an assistant?"

"I don't think it's that easy, Hobi. Especially if it's some big company like you said."

Hoseok leans back, shrugging. "He's my friend. He's gonna take you in." he promises and waves his hand, sending you a little assurement along with a wide supportive smile. 

You're not sure you're assured at all. But you have nothing to lose. You told Elaine to try it because else she wouldn't know. Even though this is not about a relationship at all, there's some similarity to the situation. 

And you're going to listen to your own advice.

Hoseok wasn't lying when he said about his friend's company. That alone made your stomach shrink with unease and the only thing that calmed you was the reminder of their friendship. Regardless of this successful friend of his and what he said about his business, you expected a decent and nice building. 

Not a freaking tallest and biggest building on a street full of companies. 

Holy shit. 

That's your first reaction you luckily keep to yourself while you stare at the tall building. Oh god. You're ten seconds from running away like a coward but you can't. You simply can't let a stupid stress affect you. This is a great opportunity for you. 

Plus, not to mention the lengths Hoseok went through to get you a chance to have an interview here. He talked to his friend because of you, purely because of that you can't disappoint him as well. 

Staring at the building, it screams of wealth even from its exterior. Is it stupid to say it kind of looks a little intimidating? Sure, your nerves could play a role in this as well. It looks like the entire building is covered in glass, in one you can't see through from the outside. Plus it looks super clean. 

Do they get it cleaned often? You laugh at your thoughts, releasing a breath you've been holding before you finally start walking toward the entrance. 

The only info Hoseok gave you was time and date. He told you there's nothing to worry about and you'll find your way around. Despite the lack of information, he tried to assure you. But walking up the stairs, you mentally curse at your friend. He might've done that because he didn't want you all stressed out, but it has a complete opposite effect.

So you remind yourself of his words of assurement and just go for it. 

The tall and huge door is automatic. Of course it is. It opens as soon as you're close enough, fast enough so you don't have to halt your steps which happens often with automatic doors. 

Scent of freshness and (novelty?) hits you pleasantly as soon as you're inside. It's everything you see in big movies. A lot of space, minimalistic but pretty interior. Everything is modern and even people working here are dressed elegantly, in dark blue color that is matched with white. 

"Miss? Where are you going?"

Almost jumping at the sudden presence beside you, you see a bulky man with a security tag attached to his elegant shirt. Even security has elegant attire? Holy fuck, Hoseok, where did you send me?

You're impressed, almost too impressed but that only sparks your stress even more. 

Especially when you see the man patiently waiting for your response. 

"Umm," Great. "I've got a job interview here?"

He scans you as if he's searching for any hints of lying. What is this? A fucking pentagon? 

"They'll give you directions at the reception desk. Please, continue past the detector." he says professionally, pointing at the detector system you've only seen at airports.

"Thank you." You try to send him a polite smile, your legs suddenly feeling a little wobbly in those heels. 

You chose an elegant outfit, a nice soft pink set with a touch of a few decent silver accessories. It's not too much but it screams of elegance which suits their theme. You paid extra attention to your make-up and hair, putting all your effort and not only because it distracted you today. 

The reception desk is at the very end, not hard to miss as a huge logo of the company is lit up and attached to the marble wall. There is a young woman aware of your presence immediately, welcoming you there before asking what you are looking for. If they're surprised to see you here, they don't show it as much. 

After explaining you're here for the job interview, she asks for your name and after she checks your information, she gives you directions to get there. There are a lot of employers, busy doing their job as some of them wait for an elevator. There are three of them! 

Other than that, nobody really pays you any attention as a silent chatter involving business resounds inside the elevator. Some of them get out sooner, some of them wait until it's their turn.

Number twelve lits up as a robotic voice informs you of the floor you situate. You get out, not quite sure where else to go as you look left and right. A little confused, the young receptionist hasn't offered any further information beside getting out on floor twelve. That's until you see a group of young females gathered on the left side of the building. Getting a feeling this is it, you walk toward them.

There is another receptionist desk, a few chairs and leather sofa in the hallway as all of them seem to be waiting. This is it.

"Welcome, miss. Are you here for the interview?" Someone asks, catching your attention as you notice another receptionist with the same attire like the one that greeted you earlier. 

This one has short hair, perfectly straightened and styled.

"Oh, hello. Yes I am." you respond lightly as she nods.

"Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a glass of water?" she asks after she points toward the group of women that are waiting. 

"No, thank you." you smile, luckily finding yourself a free spot where you can sit down. 

It's interesting to see different types of interested parties. You notice how each of them are women and you wonder if that was a requirement or it's because of something else. 

Either way, they're all dressed perfectly and definitely put their best effort. Again, Hoseok said this is a good and big company, so it makes sense everyone probably wants to work here. It's not like you don't feel like you don't fit it, even though it's stupid and they most likely want this job just as much as you do. However, some of them look confident and determined to even be here. They came prepared. 

You purely judge it by their confidence that oozes out of them, without them having to talk at all. 

And then there's a few of them that look nervous, even though they try their best to hide it and match other's energy. 

As much as there's Hoseok enthusiasm about his friend giving you the job, nothing's sure and the huge queue just proves it.

You definitely feel like you could relate more to the latter. You're a little nervous and everyone's eyes are on the door when it gets open, another woman getting out of there. She greets the receptionist before walking away with confident steps, her heels clacking against the marble floor.

You gulp, curling your toes in your heels.

You sit there and wait. Not going to lie, you think about pulling out your phone and at least entertaining yourself with the device until it's your turn. However, no one seems to be doing that and you definitely don't want to give an impression that you don't want to be here. You can't be sure.

There are eyes everywhere, including cameras that you've noticed are in every corner. They don't miss anything. Every fuck up there possibly could be, they're going to see.

But it does make sense. They need to be protected.

One thing about you is that you don't like waiting. You can be patient but after a while you get bored. You've watched your surroundings for the past forty minutes – what else is there to do? 

Your boredom is bound to end eventually and when your name is called, you spring onto your feet. They must've sent your information to the receptionist on this floor, since she never asked for your name. But that's the least of your worries when you finally walk toward the other room. Too focused on not stumbling and doing something embarrassing, you focus on your steps until you get inside the room where everyone has been walking out of. 

It's huge.

This is no meeting room or room designed for job interviews. This is an office. A huge one with a freaking seating area. Your mouth is agape as you notice a similar design the whole building has. The only difference is the view over the entire city and little coziness this office has. It's slightly more personal without having any personal pictures or anything – at least that's what you've quickly caught onto. 

It's hard to navigate around the room, you're not sure where to go. 

"Are you going to come in or not?"

A deep voice resounds around the corner making your eyes widen and stomach shrink. Embarrassed of being called out at checking this place out and clearly not moving, you clear your throat and reach the corner.

A man. 

He stands behind a desk, eyes focused down as his fingers briefly touch the stack of paper spreaded on the dark oak desk.

Before you can utter a single word, politely greet whoever this man is, he speaks again.

"Are you mute?"

What the–

"No?" you almost scoff, frowning a little which causes him to finally lift his gaze up.

He stares you up and down, scoffing silently under his breath. His dark eyes are one of the first things you notice on him. Even from a distance, you can make out the dominance in them. He's tall and has broad shoulders which are definitely more defined in the white button-up. The black suit hugs his form perfectly, like it's been designed for him.

You're not stupid. This man is important. And young. He's too young to be the CEO. Don't they have someone on their team to do the job interviews anyway? Whoever he is, he's clearly confident and full of himself. Perhaps you're mistaken but well...

He cocks his brow at you, eyes motioning at the two chairs in front of his desk. He's telling you to get there and sit down. 

You listen, despite your eyes attached to his form as he no longer watches you. He sits down, making himself comfortable as he peeks into the papers. Your full name comes out of his mouth, reading it aloud as the question sits in the air for a moment.

"Yes, that's me." you jump in to answer, not wanting to make this any more awkward.

You're still slightly perplexed by the not so pleasant start. Suddenly, you understand why most of the women out there were nervous. 

While you sit down and have him right in front of you just a few feet away, you try not to stare too much. He is young. He could potentially be Hoseok's friend. 

"Have you brought any documents with you? CV? Documents of your skills and diplomas? Anything?"

Gulping, you nod before you pull out your finished CV that Hoseok has helped you with. 

He takes it from you, flipping through the pages as he stays quiet. His face is hard to read. A frown clouds most of his features and he looks stern. Too stern for such a young male.

He briefly glances at you, while you play with your nails out of his eyesight. God. What was that look for? You know you're not overly qualified and you haven't graduated from a prestigious school. Your hope of getting this job is slowly dying down as he remains quiet before he tosses the papers onto his desk.

He leans back, glancing somewhere above your head as he sighs. "Why do you think you're suitable for this position?"

Okay, you got this. Fuck, you hate this question. You need money, clearly.

"You know, most people don't even get a chance to get to the job interview stage. Not people with your CV and education history."

"Pardon?" Your response is immediate. With an edge to your tone.

However, he is unfazed. 

"Why are you here, Miss–" He stops before glancing at the papers again before saying your surname. 

This dude is fucking–

Forget he's the hottest piece of man you've ever seen. You can tell right out of bat he's arrogant, a little too arrogant. You know he probably has different types of people coming into his office, you're aware your education record isn't something mind-blowing... but he can still be polite and not so rude.

And before your attitude can come to the surface, you remind yourself why you're here.

You need this.

This is your chance.

You've been staying in your AirBnB ever since you came here. Since you have no job yet, you can't exactly rent any place. So you're paying for the apartment that's your temporary home with your saved up money. You need to find a job and then a place to live in as soon as possible. 

"My friend told me about this job. He knows the CEO. Maybe you could ask him, he probably knows of me."

He knows the CEO? Really, Y/N? You stupid–It makes you sound as if you're completely relying on your friend knowing the CEO. Which is not entirely true. Still, you chose your words diplomatically and maybe this man could change his attitude since you're coming from – is it an inner circle? – or in the worst case, he's–

"I'm the CEO."

Of course he is. 

Fuck. 

Isn't he too young to be running this place? 

"Oh," you mutter, "Well, Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and–"

"And you think just because you know my friend you're suitable for this position?"

"No!" you exclaim, maybe too loudly which has you shut your mouth immediately as a frown makes it onto your face. 

Minus the fact he called Hoseok his friend, when he's your friend too, he sounds almost amused and definitely rude. 

"I had people graduating from Harvard coming in here before you."

Congratulations, you mentally snark.

What does he want you to say? 

I'm sorry I wasn't rich and smart enough to graduate from Harvard? 

"All I meant was that Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and that I should try it," 

You completely miss out the part where Hoseok was entirely confident he's going to give you the job. From the looks of it, he's far from it. 

"I may not have the greatest experience in this field, or I haven't had the luck to have an outstanding education record, but I'm hard-working and I learn fast."

"Hard-working and learning fast is not enough." he informs you.

"What else is there to do to be an assistant?" you ask, your mouth shutting up once again when you see the look he gives you. Wow, he has a very intense glare. "I mean–what does it require?"

"A lot of things. Executive assistant does not only perform administrative tasks, but there's a lot of research and tasks beside it. Not to mention I need someone I can rely on whenever."

"I'm a reliable person."

"Hoseok's word is not enough." he grits through his teeth.

You frown again, starting to get pissed off at his attitude. "I can prove it to you."

"Why should I give you a chance?"

"So I can prove it to you?" you deadpan, his glare dropping as he scoffs.

"You're awful at answering questions." he notes, mumbling under his breath almost as if it's not aimed for your ears.

But you hear him regardless, pressing your lips together as you straighten yourself. 

There's silence that follows. It lasts long, almost too long so you consider walking out of here. His phone vibrates as he reaches toward the device and sighs eventually. 

He puts his phone to his ear, answering with a dry Yes.

He listens for a moment. Frowning as he leans against his chair and looks at the ceiling.

"Yes, she's here."

Hoseok.

He's calling him. 

That has your attention as the young male whose name remains unknown for now glances back at you. With the same stoic expression, of course.

"Ho–"

He sighs, pinches his brow. He's listening, rolling his eyes here and there while you find it amusing. Though you don't dare to smile or even give him some sort of reaction that he might see.

"You owe me." he grits before ending the call. 

He tosses the phone back where it was, not looking pleased at all.

"I'm doing this because Hoseok is my friend."

You stare, ignoring the way your chest clenches with sadness for some reason. Or maybe it's a disappointment and embarrassment. 

"You have five working days to show me your potential. If you mess up, you're out of here."

While your not old self would tell him (very happily) fuck you, you know this is your chance to prove more things and not just to others, but to yourself as well. Even having this company's name in your CV is going to be a major help. 

"Thank you." you tell him instead, standing up as he snatches your documents off his desk and hands it to you.

You snatch it back, offering him a tight smile when he glares at the obvious attitude. 

"Here's the contract. Read it, do not sign it yet. Just an idea of what's awaiting for you." he explains, standing up. 

You feel like nothing can prepare you for what's awaiting for you. 

"I'll make sure you're not going to regret it. I mean it–I know I'm not the perfect candidate to work in your company, but I'll prove to you with my hard work that I could be. And not only because of Hoseok."

He stays silent, simply watching you. Not looking sold at all. 

But you nudge your ego away and accept the challenge this man might be. 

"Thank you again, Mr..."

His jaw clenches. 

"Jeon."

The familiar beeping he has grown used to and is a part of his everyday life, rings around his silent office. It rips his attention off the papers in front of him. With a single click, he accepts the call from the front desk on this floor.

"Mr. Jeon, I'm sorry to disturb you but you've got a visitor." The feminine voice that is somehow a part of his everyday life as well resounds. 

Brows pinching together, he stares at the phone with a slightly irritated look. Everyone knows they should not disturb him when he's in the middle of reviewing potential deals. He likes to stay focused. And even Soyeon's automatic apology did nothing.

"I don't have any visits scheduled." he responds, unimpressed and indeed bothered by the interruption. 

The young woman that has been working for him almost since the very beginning keeps herself composed, not showing how intimidated she is by him. 

"I'm aware, sir. But he's saying he's your friend?"

"My friend?" he deadpans. 

There's only one person who could come unannounced, enough to disturb him from–

"Jung Hoseok?" she asks unsurely.

Of course it's Jung Hoseok. 

No one barely comes here for visits. Everyone – and by that he means everyone that knows him personally or professionally – knows he doesn't appreciate visits. Not before his lunch and not even after. He's here to work. 

A sigh makes it past his lips as he scratches his eyebrow. "Send him in."

Despite the lack of visits he barely gets – just because he doesn't want them – he still made sure people that know him are on the list. In case there is some kind of emergency and for some reason can't be contacted. You never know. He takes precautions. 

Jung Hoseok is one of those people on the list. 

But the difference is no one really abuses that kind of privilege that gets him through security. Basically gives him a free pass around the building. 

"I get it from here, sweetheart. Thank you. He's my friend." He hears from behind the door, a chuckle of disbelief makes it out of his lips before his office door is open.

His receptionist stutters over her words but before she can make a proper sentence, his not by much older friend closes the door with a thud. Arms outstretched and wide grin, he stares at him unimpressed. 

"Surprise!" Hoseok chimes, striding toward his desk as if he owns this place.

Even with his presence here, Hoseok doesn't come here often. In fact, he can't remember when was the last time his friend visited him here. But out of people coming here unannounced, Hoseok makes the most sense. 

It can be seen he's not here often, momentarily ripping his gaze off the frowning and intimidating CEO to admire the spacious office. 

"Indeed," he mutters.

"Oh, come on. At least look like you're happy to see me!"

"Why pretend?" he simply asks, the older pursing his lips as he rolls his eyes. "Is there a reason for your... surprising visit?"

"Of course there is," he confirms, slouching himself in one of the chairs. He sighs in content, a look of surprise at how comfortable that chair is. "Alright, I'm sorry for popping in just like that–but I was around and since you barely answer my calls–"

"I'm busy."

"I know you're, Mr. CEO."

He rolls his eyes at Hoseok.

"So I came to you."

"Why? We saw each other last week."

"I'm gonna ignore that comment," he remarks, causing the younger one to shrug. "Anyway. I thought this would be better to discuss in person."

He sighs, leaning against his chair. "Just spit it out. I'm really busy."

"Okay," he says, propping his ankle against his knee as he shakes his foot. A habit of his friend that he noticed a long time ago. "When we were hanging out, you mentioned something about being in need of an assistant."

"What? You wanna be my assistant?" he jokes, amused by the idea. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and almost flips him off. But then he remembers his visit here has a purpose. He would rather not risk anything. 

"No, Jungkook. I do not want to be your assistant," he emphasizes, causing his lips to curl into an amused grin. "But I know someone that might wanna."

"Hoseok," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want any of your–whoever that might be–in my company."

"What does that mean?" he gasps.

"Your choice of friends or people you know are... questionable."

"Okay, that's actually very rude!" 

Jungkook shrugs. "It's true."

"How did you know I'm talking about my friend?"

"I didn't, I just called them that to keep it respectful."

"It's not one of my hook-ups!"

"Spit it out. I don't have time for this nonsense." Jungkook sighs, staring at the ceiling. Hoseok is really testing his patience. He's hungry and with a lot of work in front of him.

"My friend moved here recently and has been searching for a job. I thought you could give her a chance, I can totally vouch for her."

Jungkook blinks at the ceiling, staring down at his friend without having to move. "What this friend of yours accomplished?"

Hoseok's eyes widen and he almost stutters. "What do you–"

"Her skills? Education?"

Hoseok is the one who just blinks as Jungkook sits up straight with again, unimpressed look. "I'm not employing just anyone here, Hoseok. This is a successful company for a reason."

"Well–I don't know about any of that but I know she's hard-working and–"

"You don't know and you're here asking me to give her a job?"

"I'm asking you to give her a chance." Hoseok corrects.

"Hoseok, you're my friend–I...I don't hate you–" Hoseok glares at him. "But no."

"Jungkook!" he whines.

"I don't know this person and from the looks of it, you don't know either."

"Just because I don't know her entire resume doesn't mean she's a stranger. Just FYI–" He frowns, "But please. Just give her a chance. I need your help."

Jungkook lifts a brow. 

"You know I never ask you for anything."

That one's true. 

Whatever power Jungkook has in his young age – the age of twenty-eight – Hoseok has never asked him for anything. Let alone use him. He's the most valuable friend he has. Not that he would ever say it out loud. Not in usual situations anyway. Hoseok is aware of that.

"She's been trying to get a job ever since she came here. She lives in–"

"I don't care," he interrupts, scratching his forehead as he tries to soothe the wrinkles there that are caused by frowning. "She probably can't find a job because she's just not... good."

"That's not true," Hoseok quickly jumps to remark. "You know how hard it is to find a job nowadays."

It's silent for a few moments.

"Please."

"Don't." Jungkook stops him, closing his eyes.

"Just give her a chance."

He already curses himself mentally for this. Perhaps he feels a little embarrassed for Hoseok.

"Fine."

He cringes when he hears a loud squeal of excitement.

"Just one interview. That's all I can promise you." he informs him firmly.

"Thank you!" Hoseok sits up straight, his sneakers thumping against the floor. 

"Now go, I've got to work."

He doesn't argue, right on his feet as he can't stop grinning at the annoyed man. 

"Soyeon will give you further information." he mumbles under his breath.

"Great! Well, I would ask anyway."

Of course he would. 

"Don't forget to eat."

"Okay, get out now." Jungkook mumbles quickly, ignoring the teasing smirk from his friend as he strides out of his office confidently.

Hoseok is at your place. If that can be called that.

You're only sure of that because one of the lights stopped working, the bulb burned out. Rather than having to deal with any additional expenses, because you're never too sure and it's better to be safe than sorry, you asked Hoseok if he could come today and change it.

Plus, you need someone to help you with the stress you know your job interview would bring you. And you were goddamn right.

However, that's not the only thing you're bringing with yourself.

Since you gave Hoseok the second card and code to your temporary home, you knew he would be there already. You told him to wait up for you, way before you had the opportunity to meet his friend.

That man can't be anyone's friend. You doubt it.

The moment you get your shoes off and meet Hoseok's sheepish grin, he has no time to react as you reach for one of the cushions and start hitting him repeatedly. He squeals as if his life depends on it, though no real damage is done as your frustration takes over.

"That. Was. Fucking. Awful!" You say with each hit, finally getting the cushion snatched from you as he tosses it back onto the couch behind you.

"What happened?"

Glaring at him, you see it in his eyes. The hidden glints of knowing, even the tiniest tint of apology. 

"Why didn't you tell me he's fucking arrogant and rude?"

His cheeks heaten up as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "He can be rough around the edges, but he's not that bad."

"No!" you yell, "He's even worse!"

"Okay, let's sit down and talk." he tries, giggling nervously as he leads you to sit down.

You do, huffing out as you cross your arms over your chest. The feeling of embarrassment and close to humiliation keeps coming back every time you think about the entire moment you spent in that building. You've never felt more like shit before. He made you question your abilities and skills, judged you by your resume within seconds. He made you feel like you're nothing.

Not mentioning he's not interested in hiring you at all. He made sure to let you know that. 

"Y/N, come on..." Hoseok speaks after a moment, softly and sorry just as he looks.

"Why didn't you tell me? I came there and–" You don't bring yourself to say how hopeful you were when coming there, despite being nervous. "You promised me it's going to be okay." you add way quieter, embarrassed to admit it out loud. 

It sounds childish but Hoseok was the one who sparked hope and confidence in you. He assured you everything is going to work out. Of course you knew it couldn't be all true. There is always a space for failure or something not going according to plan, but this? This is your worst experience in months. Definitely takes the cake for the worst experience here in Seoul. 

"I'm sorry," You hear, his features softening as he squeezes your forearm. "I knew if i told you how he can be, you wouldn't go there. I didn't want you to miss this opportunity."

"What opportunity?" you scoff. 

While you realize he wanted to help, what's the purpose of it if his friend isn't exactly one that wants to help?

"He made me feel stupid."

"No," Hoseok argues, earning a glare from you. He wasn't even there! How can he argue about that? "He's just very selective with his staff."

"Oh, trust me, I figured. I mean, he wasn't exactly secretive about that."

Hoseok nervously laughs and rubs your arms. "But besides that, how did it go?"

"I–" you stop, thinking for a moment. "I don't know if it was me or you, but somehow I convinced him to let me prove myself."

"Y/N, that's amazing!" Hoseok yells excitedly, receiving a pointed look from you.

"I mean... it's worth a shot," you mutter, "But I feel like I'm gonna get fired before stepping in there."

"Listen to me," Hoseok says, scooting closer. Straightening himself, he makes sure you see his persistent features and the seriousness behind them. "You're gonna rock it there. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Jungkook can be difficult and I can't promise he's going to be all sweet, but if you'll do your job well then everything's gonna be fine. Trust yourself."

"Hobi, I trusted myself and coming back from there, I feel like utter shit."

"Come on now..."

"No, you didn't see how he looked at me. He told me people that graduated from Harvard come there looking for a job. Do you get it? Harvard. Or a fucking Yale!"

"Yeah..." he mumbles, "I told you he's successful. So is his company."

"No shit."

Hoseok chuckles, "That doesn't change the fact that you're good. You'll get better."

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel panic arising at the thought of going back there. You don't have a choice though. You can't live here for any longer and you need a job desperately. 

"You're the only one that thinks this. And sorry, but that's not enough."

What you mean is that it won't affect his friend's decision in any way. Hoseok is no help at the moment. He got you the job interview which of course has helped, and you will let him know that as soon as your panic fades away a bit. But from now on, it's just you. 

You'll need to prove yourself.

To wipe that arrogant look from Jeon's face.

You were up for a challenge, but this one seems to be the biggest yet. 

Hoseok laughs at your words, knowing very well what you mean. Trying to light up the mood, he pokes your side with his elbow. "I'll beat him up if he's gonna treat you wrong."

"Sorry but from the looks of it, it seems like you're the one who would get his ass beaten."

Snickering at Hoseok's loud gasp – the one you know its purpose is to lighten up the mood once again – you can admit that out loud. The arrogant prick has muscles on him. You could see it from behind that desk alone.

"I'm prepared to take the risks from you." he jokes, teasing you.

"Oh, shut up!"

He laughs loudly, the ringing sound causing your lips to twitch. All the amusement is gone as his face pops up in front of you again. So are you reminded of the negative experience you unfortunately went through not even an hour ago. 

"No offense to your friend, but he's a fucking asshole." you spit, not even thinking of how Hoseok can feel about you cursing at his supposedly friend. You should've been more considerate but rather than being met with offended Hoseok, you hear his laugh again.

"Well, sorry to say this but you need this asshole."

The worst part of it is that he's absolutely right.

You made sure no disaster would happen from the beginning. Like for example, waking up late on your first day of work. Just to be safe, you set up around four alarms to make sure you won't be late.

Besides not eating anything from all the nerves, you've received an encouraging message from Hoseok who puts a lot of faith in you. At least someone does. You certainly stopped the moment you met Mr. Jeon.

Or Jungkook. Like Hoseok calls him.

It feels weird to put a proper name on him. First name, is what you mean. It's weird to even call him by it in your head. There's undeniable respect (or a fear) you have of him. Even by talking to him for a few minutes, it seems like he's going to pop up the moment you call him by his first name in your mind. 

With an empty stomach, minus the glass of water you gulped down before leaving, you get on your way to Jeon Investments Inc. The ride in a cab is full of anxiety and no matter how many times you try to steady your breathing, you feel like you're on the verge of a panic attack. Even the poor driver seems to be concerned as he asks you if you're okay. 

Turns out, after you read the contract once you found the courage, there might be a lot of things you're not prepared for. Minus all the professional terms and conditions you're supposed to comply with, you feel lost. Utterly lost. And fucked.

You've got many questions. Once you ask, you know you will come out as inexperienced and even dumb. Being an assistant is not just taking calls and dealing with emails. That much you understood after reading the ten pages of a very professionally and legally written contract. 

There is so much expected from you and being truthfully honest, you're not sure if you can make it. 

Curiosity got the best of you and after gulping down a whole glass of beer – let's ignore the fact you bought it to yourself even despite your financial state – you of course, googled your boss. Can you even call him that yet? Is he officially your boss? No contract has been signed. Mr. Jeon made sure of it. 

There are many articles about Jeon Jungkook. Most of it is just boring and professional stuff. It contains the same information – and there are not that many to begin with – but from the looks of it, it seems like Mr. Jeon is one lucky fucker. Has been born into a wealthy family and like in the famous books and movies, has inherited the family company. The man is practically swallowed in money.

He's successful. And well known amongst business people. Surely, he's no stranger in this particular circle of people.

But at least this is different from all the books and money. Because even though he's successful and has many official photos from different events, he's no celebrity. His life is purely private and no one digs in it. Which is probably for the best for him. This man is practically mysterious.

You're reminded by your conversation with Hoseok after you calmed down after your breakdown. 

"How did you even meet a guy like him?"

"Jungkook? Ah, I've known him since he was a kid. You could say we're a distant family."

"What?!" You screeched at the thought of it. And you have no idea why. 

How did you find out about it only now?

"Well, my great aunt actually married Jungkook's mom's cousin?" He questioned almost unsurely as he frowned in thought before he nodded. "Yeah. It's a little mixed up and we're not really blood related but yeah."

Thinking about it now, it makes sense. 

Where else would Hoseok meet someone like him? Without a doubt, he must've attended some private college and surely, all types of schools before that. God, he's definitely one of those people that were in a private daycare! You can only assume and you don't want to put any stereotypes on him, but based on what you know about him, he lives a different life than you and most people for sure. 

Who owns millions worth company at the age of––How old is he? 

That's something you forgot to ask Hoseok. 

The cab ride is awfully fast. Which you should be glad for. You're ten minutes earlier which is definitely better than being late. Plus, it will take you some time to get to the top floor. Especially if you'll have to go through the same process with security like before.

You do. 

The security makes you do the same routine like you had to go through when you first got here. It is their job and you fully understand that, though you're a little annoyed when they eye you as if you're carrying a gun underneath all your clothing. After all of that is done and you do have to inform your arrival at the front desk, you're finally allowed to go on the lift. 

You're not even sure if you work at the same floor where Mr. Jeon is, but guess you will find out. Despite your inner nerves and anxiety crawling up your throat, you try to appear confident as if you're not ten seconds from a mental breakdown. 

Your presence is luckily ignored, everyone seems to be on their way to work as most of them exchange greetings. Since you don't know anyone and you're not familiar with any of their faces, you remain silent unless you share eye contact with someone. You have no problem politely greeting anyone. It does put you a little at ease when most employees give you the tiniest tilt of a smile. 

The floor that you're slightly familiar with is less empty than you remember it to be, but there are still a few people walking down the halls. Getting to the front desk, you wait up there when you find it empty. Not trying to get nervous because of it, you keep looking around. You definitely look out of place. No doubt there. 

Someone gets out of the backroom and the female you're already familiar with, gets behind the desk. It doesn't take too long for her to notice you and when her eyes fall upon you, you make sure to greet her and explain why you are here. 

You're not sure if she's informed of your purpose here but she nods regardless.

"Mr. Jeon is not expected to arrive for the next hour. But that doesn't concern you, at least not now. First, we have to give you an attire."

Oh, that's right. 

Everyone has a certain dress code and since you haven't received any clothes, or instruction what to wear, you wore something work appropriate. Something similar you wore to the job interview.

"Come with me." she says with a little smile, motioning you to follow her as she leads you down the hall. 

She stops, pulling out a card from her pocket as she attaches it to the scanner. 

Opening one of the doors that is similar to the next dozen ones you've passed by, you walk inside. It's a small sized room, compared to the big halls and enormous office you were interviewed in. There's nothing special about it, though you wonder what this room is for. Besides a transparent circle shaped glass table and tall sized dressers, there's not much in here. 

Still, the room is designed well and goes with the rest of the company's aesthetic. In the corner you notice a small kitchen cabinet. There is a coffee machine and a table next to the cabinet with two stools. It seems like a breakroom but you're not sure. It seems... small compared to what this company is. 

The drawer being open is heard as the female that is yet to be introduced to you, asks your size. You answer her and watch in awe as she pulls out clothing. 

"Do you prefer pants or a skirt?"

A little taken aback, you look at her and notice her wearing a skirt. Well, you did shave your legs. "Skirt." you respond before thinking it through. 

"You can wear whatever is more comfortable to you. Mr. Jeon isn't too stern about women wearing skirts and it's completely up to us. Of course, you can change it whenever you want. You don't have to wear skirts all the time," she explains as she sets the pile of clothing that matches everyone's attire on the glass table. 

"You can wear your set of clothes too, they don't have to be company's. Some employees prefer wearing this since it saves money. But you're free to buy and wear your own clothes as long as it meets our dress code. Nothing too revealing and in the dark colors, so black or dark blue,"

You try to give attention to every word she says and you desperately let too much information sink in. Her mouth just won't stop.

"The heels you've on are fine. That isn't provided by the company, though we do have some emergency options in the dresser there," She points at one of the dressers. "You buy your own heels, that is something the company gives you money for every two months. It's added as an extra in your paycheck."

Luxury. 

"This room is not an official break room. That's somewhere else, I can take you there," She says when she glances at her watch. "This is mainly just an emergency room when you need to change clothes. It's almost like a storage room. But you can come here and make yourself coffee. I prefer to do that sometimes because it's close to my desk and it's less crowded. No one really comes in here. It's not used as much."

You nod as she glances around.

"The windows are tinted, so no one can see inside. So don't worry about the lack of curtains. You can change your clothes here, it's safe."

"Thank you."

"Very well then. I'll let you get changed. You can put your clothes back in that dresser in the corner and get them back when you clock off."

"Okay, thank you."

And with that, she spins on her heels and walks out of the room. She closes the door after her to give you some privacy. Not wasting any time, you quickly change your clothes and do everything based on what information she told you. The clothes fit and surprisingly, it's very comfortable as well. 

Your hands caress the material of your skirt and without doubt, it's clearly expensive.

Adjusting your hair, you walk out of the room to find her waiting for you. Once she sees you, she wastes zero time and starts leading you elsewhere. You have a lot to catch on.

She briefly starts pointing at the countless doors, explaining what's behind them. As much as you listen to her and try to remember everything she's saying, there's no way you will remember all of it by the time she's done. 

Passing through the glassed big room with a long table and dozens of chairs, she introduces it as one of the meeting rooms. 

"It's the most used one. Big meetings and contracts are signed there." 

There is also a big projector screen on one side of the wall with the greatest view of the city. 

She points to restrooms, not wasting time in going in there as she reminds you there's not much time. 

This girl is like a robot. She says everything fast and there's no hint of doubt or anything. You wonder how long it took her to learn everything. There really is no way someone is able to know all of this in a day. But rather than being met with any sign of empathy, she keeps showing you around and throwing new information on you from every side. 

"As you might have noticed, I work at the front desk on this floor. We will mainly work together, but your job as an assistant is closer to Mr. Jeon. Whatever you will have to deal with and prepare, I will inform you about. It's your job to make sure it runs smoothly."

She says as you follow behind her, trying to match her fast and long strides. 

Oh god, you can't do this. And you're not talking about walking fast in high heels. 

"Now this," she says, close to her desk and across from Mr. Jeon's office, before she opens the door. "is your office."

You both walk inside. Immediately met with the luxurious interior, you stare at the beige and goldish furniture that despite the color, it all seems minimalistic and clean. The entire room smells nice, and is definitely cleaner thoroughly. There's a white desk and behind it is the entire wall of long shelves with binders sorted most likely alphabetically. Even the shelves are backlit with LED lights. Since the entire building is covered in windows, there is an amazing view on your right side as you stand in front of the desk. 

"This will be your workplace. You will handle all calls, emails and everything of that sort here. Of course, you will be required to move around the building, so this place is mostly for you to handle the things where you need some peace and quiet."

"Wow," you manage to say. "This office is beautiful."

There are even nice plants in matching pots that make this place more alive.

"It sure is," she hums, "I don't think you will use it that much though."

You look at her a little confusingly. "Well, it's mainly for those calls and emails. You have tons of other work to do."

You don't get the courage to ask for more information. At least not now when you barely have enough time to blink.

"Follow me."

She leads you further down the hall, knowing every corner like the back of her hand as she greets passing by coworkers automatically. Some of them steal a curious look at you, but their prying eyes are long forgotten when your focus is elsewhere. 

"Saja," The woman calls out, stopping between the huge door frame. 

Across her shoulder, you notice a spacious room with multiple tables and stools around them. This has to be the break room she told you about before. The scent of morning coffee mixed with freshness hits your nose, the freshness that floats in the air through the entire building. 

One of the employees turns around, her gaze falling on her colleague shortly after as she excuses herself and walks up to the two of you. You notice she looks at you for a short period, mainly keeping her focus on the woman in front of you.

"Could you please show–I'm sorry, what was your name again?" she asks, glancing across her shoulder as her apologetic eyes fall down on you.

Ignoring the pinch of embarrassment, your name fills the short silence that is shared between the three of you. 

"You don't mind me calling you by your first name?" she assures.

"No, that's fine." you respond, hoping all of you can be at least friendly with each other. She did call the other woman by her first name. 

"Great," she takes a breath as she turns back facing – was it Saja? "I need you to explain to Y/N what's expected from her, especially today. I showed her around, so I hope–" She glances back at you, "You slightly know your way around."

Saja nods, clearly knowing this beforehand because her reaction is not full of surprise. In fact, there's zero surprise.

"She's your responsibility right now," She reminds her and even though Saja nods, you see her brows slightly raised in a mere annoyance. "Don't forget, Mr. Jeon expects everything to run smoothly."

"Of course." she says.

The woman that has shown you around turns to you, her lips close to a soft smile but her mind seems to be elsewhere. Clearly she's rushing to go back to work, at least you assume that is the reason for her abruptness. When she glances at her watch, it confirms your suspicion. 

"Well, good luck on your first day."

"Thanks–" You stop, giving her a questioning look when you realize you don't know her name. She hasn't introduced herself to you.

Whether the realization hits her at the lack of introduction on her side, she doesn't show it and offers you a simple answer.

"Soyeon."

"Thank you, Soyeon."

"Just listen to Saja here, she will explain the rest to you. And don't stress too much."

That's easier said than done. 

"Any advice?" you ask, chuckling nervously as she gives you a sympathetic look.

"Don't mess up."

Your mouth falling open and a total despair dominating your features, you watch Soyeon wave at you before she scurries away. You swear your heart just dropped and the stress of not being able to do this comes up to you in a bigger intensity. 

Though you seem panicked and not present, you do notice Saja's eyes scanning you from head to toe as she clears her throat. Looking at her, she motions you to join her in the room. Ignoring all eyes on you, you focus on her as she leads you toward the kitchen counter. 

"Mr. Jeon comes at half past eight every morning. Occasionally an hour earlier, so you should always be prepared for that just in case,"

What are you supposed to do? Spread a red carpet for him?

"By the time he comes here, he needs to have his schedule ready for him. You also do that a day prior, sending him his schedule electronically. But you still need to have everything ready the day he comes in, so this means all papers and other details that he needs to check over or have it prepared for him."

You nod along with her explanation as if you've done this before. 

"The assistant before you had that prepared for you, so you don't have to do it today. But it is expected of you to do that tomorrow and from now on,"

"Okay."

"Mr. Jeon doesn't like someone coming inside his office when he's not there. But as his assistant, he prefers all the documents to be on his desk, fully prepared and ready for him, when he gets there. That's where Soyeon comes, she's going to inform you Mr. Jeon entered his office and that's when you bring his morning coffee to him."

Is he a king or a boss?

Mr. Jeon seems like the biggest menace already. 

"Are you listening to me?" she frowns.

"I am, it's just too much information and I'm trying to process it."

You're not met with an ounce of empathy as she scowls at you as if you've done something wrong. That leaves you a little bitter but you don't let it show. You simply just stare at her, a knowing glint in your eyes when you're clearly not scared by her little attitude. What did she expect? Was she I Know It All when it was her first day?

This is insane. 

There's no way anyone that comes to work on their first day knows everything. Not to mention even if that person has experience in this field, every company is different. Every boss is different. Every boss requires something different.

"You better learn fast then. Mr. Jeon doesn't like slackers."

Frowning again, this time you can't fully hide it as you give her a look. Did she call you slacker just because you don't know everything? Which is absolutely fine because Hello, it's your first day here!

She glances at the wall to check the time on a big circled clock that is attached to the wall. Wow, even the clock looks fancy!

Oh shit, she's walking away. Quickly catching up to her, she starts showing you the coffee machine. Automatically, she prepares the cup and barely gives you any time to fully grasp what buttons she's pressing.

"Mr. Jeon should arrive any minute. Soyeon will let you know and you'll bring coffee to him. Along with the papers that are on your desk, I'll show you which ones."

"Won't the coffee turn cold?"

He's not here, he is supposed to arrive. You might not well Mr. Jeon well but he seems like the type to get annoyed when his coffee is cold. And judging by Saja's pause, he most likely is and your guess has been right. 

"If he comes later, you'll just make him another one." 

Mentally shaking your head at the ridiculously over some coffee, she motions for you to grab the cup as she ushers you out of the break room. You try not to spill it, matching her pace as she gets inside your now office in long strides as she opens the door fast and wide. You even passed Soyeon's reception desk but you were rushing to even notice her.

She tosses the stack of documents onto your paper. Ready to walk out, you stop her abruptly by quickly saying; "Thank you!"

She stops, barely giving you a glance across her shoulder as her light hair shines in the natural lightning. She styled it in a neat ponytail that makes her look super professional. 

And with that, she leaves with no words.

She lets the door open, not even closing it behind her as you stare at the door frame where she was standing just seconds ago. Blinking and swallowing down the irritation, you place the steaming hot coffee on your desk. Careful not to spill it over the documents. That would be truly a horror scenario. 

Sighing, you rub your forehead softly, trying not to rub off any make-up you put there. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, cursing yourself for not putting it up. 

The beeping sound comes from the desk, causing you to jump in surprise as you look around. It's coming from an office phone and you quickly rush to it. You stare at the multiple buttons and touch screen. Logically, you pick up the actual phone and put it to your ear.

Before your mouth opens, Soyeon's voice already reaches your ears.

"Mr. Jeon just entered his office. You have his coffee ready?"

Glancing at the steaming hot coffee, you answer. "Yes."

"Perfect," she sighs, almost in relief. "Oh, not sure if Saja told you but there's an iPad in one of the drawers in your desk. We all have one. That's going to be your best friend from now on."

"Oh, okay, thank you."

In fact, Saja did not tell you about it.

You've got so many questions about the stupid iPad. What's it for? Why do you need to use it? But before you can actually ask anything, Soyeon tells you one last thing before ending the call.

"You better get him the coffee now. Mr. Jeon doesn't like waiting."

Mr. Jeon can go fuck himself. 

Still, you carefully grab the cup of coffee and the documents. Trying to balance it in both of your hands is no joke, but you somehow manage as you rush out of your office. Passing by Soyeon who's on the call, your eyes meet but there's no time for any sort of interaction besides that as you knock at Mr. Jeon's office door. 

"Just get in, he knows it's you." Soyeon whisper yells at you, a hand covering the phone's microphone.

Aren't you supposed to knock? Fuck, you're going to fuck this up so badly.

You can barely open the heavy door, but again, you surprise yourself by managing to do that without any damage done. Being back in this office brings memories but there's no time to dwell on it, not when you have a job to do. 

You see him.

The suit jacket being tossed over the couch that's pressed against the wall, right next to the massive windows. He stands tall, wearing a black button-up with slacks that match his suit jacket. You don't look too much, setting this down onto his desk just as he reaches it and sits behind it. 

When you look at him, you notice the look he gives you.

A look of disbelief that you're really here. He definitely thought you would give up.

But rather than give him that satisfaction – and the fact you need this job – you send him a smile. "Good morning."

You're pleased with yourself. Maybe you caught him off guard by having everything prepared for him. Well, they said he needs these two things from you today and you've managed to do it. That sounds like a success, right? 

"What is this?" he asks, ignoring your greeting like the arrogant prick he is.

He stares at the cup of coffee, annoyance overshadowing his entire features. And you thought he already looked annoyed.

"Your coffee?" you ask dumbly. 

Confused of why he's even asking, you notice his jaw clenching before he looks away to take a deep breath. Breath to regain patience. One he doesn't seem to have. 

"Is this a joke?"

Your eyes widen, a lump creating in your throat as you stare at his cold demeanor. "Pardon?"

"I don't drink macchiato."

How were you supposed to fucking know that? 

"I'm sorry–I didn't–"

You didn't make it. You didn't know.

But he's not interested in your apology. Nor witnessing you being a stuttering mess.

"Black. No sugar." Is all he says through clenched teeth.

Is this a fucking coffee shop?

His eyes are on your hands as you carefully grab the failed coffee. You have a feeling as if he's going to attack you any second and even such a detail like him glaring at your hands seems intimidating.

Sighing, he ignores your presence as he pulls the documents you brought him closer, opening one of them.

With a clenched jaw, you walk out of his office in complete embarrassment and anger. It feels like you're going to cry and you surprise yourself that you already feel this way. This day could not be worse. 

You've managed to already fail and fuck it up, right in front of Mr. Jeon. 

Luckily, Soyeon is not at her desk when you pass by. Finding the right way to a break room, there are less people there than before. Everyone has gone to work.

"What are you doing?" Soyeon suddenly walks in, an iPad in her hands. "Please don't tell me you haven't brought Mr. Jeon his coffee. I saw you walking in there."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mutter through clenched teeth. "Wasn't the coffee he wanted."

"You got his coffee wrong?" she shrieks as if it's the end of the world.

Preventing yourself from rolling your eyes at the dramatics, you rather explain it. "I wasn't the one who made it. Saja did without telling me what coffee he drinks."

Soyeon stares and you don't know what to think of her look. Does she think you're accusing her that this is her fault? Well, it sort of is but they're colleagues. You don't want to make enemies here. So you nervously chuckle and quickly add;

"She probably got it mixed up."

Soyeon walks closer, helping you to navigate your way with the machine as you silently thank her. 

"She knows Mr. Jeon's coffee preference." Is all she says before she gives you a knowing look, walking away with a sympathetic scrunch of her brows. 

As the coffee pours and the sound of it fills the silence, you stare at the city view. 

She purposely gave you the wrong coffee.

Soyeon never specifically said Saja has set you up. She didn't directly hint at it and perhaps it's just been your rash judgment. Reminded again that this is only your first day here and you don't know anything or anyone, perhaps she made a mistake. That could be the case too. Though you feel bad for thinking the worst, which stems from the fact people are assholes, you focus on doing a good job from now on.

Not that the previous mistake was really your fault. 

You're that kind of person who tries to set the record straight no matter what. So this bothers you even now, but Mr. Jeon definitely doesn't care about any of your explanations. The warning look he gives you when you bring him the right coffee shuts you up immediately. 

Plus, it could all be just a mistake and you wouldn't want to make any accusations over a stupid coffee choice. You haven't graduated from Harvard as Mr. Jeon was so kind to remind you, but you're not dumb. You're not going to make enemies – nor you ever want to. But dealing with not so important things on your first day is not it. Even if your ego and tendency for justice is highly bruised. 

When you're back in your office, you try to make sense of all the papers and documents. There's no one exactly guiding you for it. Turns out the iPad that has been given you shows you Mr. Jeon's schedule. It must've been done by the previous assistant. Everything is neat and in order. You can do that.

You're in the middle of reviewing the device, trying to see how things were previously done so you could do your best, when your phone rings again. You click on the touch screen, staring wide-eyed when it comes to life and Soyeon's voice fills the silence.

"Hey, Mr. Jeon has a meeting at ten. Your presence there is needed."

It's almost embarrassing how your stomach churns at that information – and especially at the thought of it. Being in a meeting full of wealthy men? What are you supposed to do there?

"May I ask why?" you ask – nervously – because you're not sure what you're supposed to do there. 

You've read the contract. First of all, there is too much information for you to remember all of it. Accompanying Mr. Jeon to meetings among other things is one of them, that much you remember. 

"You won't accompany him to all his meetings. This one's big, so you're mostly there to take additional notes and whatever Mr. Jeon tells you."

Is he going to tell you? Because it seems like he expects you to know everything right off the bat. Though you keep that snarky remark to yourself. 

"You just need to be present and actually listen."

A few minutes later, after being navigated by Soyeon to the big meeting room she had shown you earlier, it turns out you were actually right. The room is filled with men wearing suits that scream rich and regardless of their clothing, you can tell they're important. Their age differs, it's a good mixture of young and elders. You do find some comfort when there are two other women there as well. Though, you have no idea what's their purpose or if they're one of the investors, the meeting happens after the official greeting.

They take turns. Setting up their presentations as they continue to speak about either theirs or someone else's business. You're not sure what you're supposed to take notes of. In fact, Mr. Jeon hasn't spoken to you since he successfully ignored your presence here.

He sits at the head of the long table, dark eyes settled on whoever is presenting, listening to them carefully. He has documents settled in front of him, which you soon figure out are the other investors' plans. Whatever they're presenting to him, he has in front of him on paper. You quickly note the nervousness that some men, older than Mr. Jeon for sure, show and truthfully, you don't blame them.

It feels weird to be seated behind the same table as them. You sit on the right side of Mr. Jeon. After a while, he leans back and makes himself more comfortable. Your attention is put on him, noticing he's been playing with a pen, twirling it between his long fingers. Are those rings? You quickly look away, cursing at yourself over and over again. 

Well, it's no secret this arrogant fucker is hot. You haven't had the chance to properly... look at him. The dominance oozes out of him which makes him slightly intimidating. Or maybe it's a mixture of his stern and cold exterior.

You're not a fan of him. That much is clear but none of that is important. You don't need to be one. You just need this job and stupidly said, the money that comes with it. If having to put up with someone full of himself like Mr. Jeon, you will have to endure it. At least until you'll be able to find another job. Having an experience in this company would open many doors for you for sure.

Look at you. 

Here you are thinking of this when no contract has been signed yet. 

A notification pops on your iPad and you stare for a moment before looking around. Are you allowed to look? It's not your personal iPad, it's not like whatever there is is your personal stuff, it must be work related. Before the screen can darken again, you check it. It's a file you open, trying to look as discrete as you can. Everyone's listening to Mr. Choi (if you remember the name in his presentation well), so you quickly take a peek. 

It's a file with everyone's name and the name of their business and presentation. Some of them are marked with a cross and others with a questioning mark. Frowning a little in confusion, you look around. Your breath hitches as soon as you find Mr. Jeon staring at you from your side. 

His stare is cold as ever, his eyes not faltering as you realize. He's the one who has sent you this. You're not sure why you send him a soft nod, silently telling him that you understood.

No reaction comes from him and his attention is directed back to the presenting man.

It continues like this. As the man comes and goes to switch places at the presenting spot and in front of a huge screen, Mr. Jeon slowly sends you his decisions. It's the only communication between you. 

As the meeting continues, you mostly take the notes for yourself as you separate the projects based on Mr. Jeon's previous marks. It's mostly to keep it more neat for you. You're not sure what you're supposed to do with it, but you'll find out from either Soyeon or Mr. Jeon himself. If not, you're just going to have to ask. You're not a fucking mind reader.

All presentations roughly take two hours, you swear your butt has no feeling from all the sitting. Your stomach is empty and it feels like you've lost your butt, it intensifies when you stand up. Mr. Jeon shakes his hand with the others, giving them one last greeting before he walks out of the room. You rush to catch up to him.

Your heels clink beside him as he's aware of your presence. He has to be. Yet he doesn't even spare you a glance as he stops at the elevator and clicks on the button. The elevator door opens immediately, a little surprised how hectic and fast everything seems, you take your place a little behind him.

"I want their presentations sorted out."

Oh my god.

Maybe this day is not going to be so bad after all. 

With a little smugness spreading in your chest, you confidently state; "I've already done that. I'll send it to you."

And then he glances behind him, right back at you as he makes sure you see the lift on his brow. Does he not believe you? Is he impressed? It's so hard to make out what he's thinking. He's definitely a very hard person to be around with. Hoseok deserves a golden medal for putting up with him. 

Irritated by his reaction, with swift taps to your screen, a sound of email being sent fills the elevator.  

You plaster a fake smile at him, making sure he sees it as you softly say. "Already done."

His features harden as he turns around. "I'm staying in for lunch today."

"Okay?" you ask unsurely.

You hear him taking a breath, but you can't see his face since he's not facing you. But he's undoubtedly irritated by your unprofessional response or at all, by your presence. 

"Have you not done any research?" he snarks.

Taken back for a second, you quickly shake yourself out of it. "I have not been informed about your lunch, no."

"Careful, Miss Y/L/N. You're already off to a bad start."

Before you can open your mouth and inform him that the bad start wasn't your fault at all, he doesn't seem to care as he stops you with his palm lifted in the air. His fingers slightly curled as his rings shine.

"This time make sure the coffee is black, or you'll be out of here faster than you can spell coffee."

Opening your mouth at the audacity, luckily for you he turns around right after as the elevator dings and informs you of the floor. He walks out and leaves, leaving you there with an open mouth and anger rising. Before the elevator door can close again, you quickly make it out of there and walk toward your office, hoping your walk doesn't come as aggressive as you feel.

Turns out Mr. Jeon also sends his preference for lunch and it's one of your duties to get it for him. Among all the information Soyeon has been able to give you, one of them is that you either have to get it ordered or get it personally. She explained it when you were on your way to get his freaking black coffee. It's dark just like his personality is.

You might not be an assistant before – you knew getting him things like this would be your responsibility and well, job as well. Mr. Jeon wants this and that. Mr. Jeon prefers it like this. Mr. Jeon doesn't like that.

It hasn't been even a full day of you working, yet you feel like you want to strangle that man. He has power, everything around you, in here, is his. He can afford getting this kind of service and you're paid for it.

Perhaps it's your own irritation that is simply caused by the mentioned man, but you feel more like his slave than an assistant. 

Luckily, he chose Italian for his lunch today and Soyeon helped you in showing his favorite restaurant. How she knows all of that about him is beyond you. Anyway, they could get it delivered just in time, so it's kind of your lucky day. All you have to do is to get downstairs and out of the building to take it. Plus bring it straight to his office, of course. 

"There are a few restaurants that take time to get it delivered, or sometimes they are so busy that they can't get it delivered in Mr. Jeon's scheduled lunch time. That's when you have to get it for him instead."

It's what she told you when she was clicking Mr. Jeon's order.

"There is also a car in the garage that's for this purpose. When you need to run some errands to be exact." 

That freaked you out. 

You're new. Not just here but in this city. You don't know its streets and even though you don't doubt the car has navigation, you're a little stressed about that. But can you show it? No. You don't need anyone doubting you.

Nerves are calmed down when you get your boss his lunch and everything runs smoothly. He gets his pasta and even though he barely acknowledges you, it's a success. 

One of the things you always worried about when coming to a new job is being left out. Being in a new collective is never easy and it can be nerve wrecking for obvious reasons. So when Soyeon suggests you join her for lunch, you relax and happily agree. 

It becomes your chance to meet – as you could say – your colleagues. They're welcoming and curious, asking you how you ended up in the city. For a moment it seems like you're a new attraction and despite all the attention on you, you prefer they engage you in their conversation. Even though you're the main topic of it. 

Saja is there as well. You still don't know what to think of the whole coffee situation, but she seems at ease and not looking as if she was aware of her mistake. 

"So, how do you like it here, newbie?" Max, the tallish dark haired guy with sharp eyes and prominent features asks.

"It's her first day." One of the women whose name you can't remember points out.

Max gives her a look, "So? She already feels about it somehow, right?"

He looks at you, and so do the rest of them as you're just trying to enjoy your beef broth. "It's been slightly stressful, but it's my first day. So I'm just trying to remember everything."

"Honestly, we all have been through that. First days are never easy." The woman speaks again as Soyeon shrugs while Saja reapplies her lip tint.

"Ah, the pressure to not fuck up is tough, right?" Max complains as if he's the one that's been through the most stressful day. Well, he might have. You never know.

"Max." Soyeon warns him.

"What? We're not in the company." He rolls his eyes which amuses you as Soyeon glares at his audacity to roll his eyes at her. 

"I can't imagine being Mr. Jeon's assistant. The pressure must be a lot." The woman says again, her short hair barely reaching the top of her shoulders as she pouts slightly. 

"What are you talking about? Mr. Jeon is a great boss." Saja says, twisting the lip tint close as she puts it into her purse.

"I never said he's not great," But you can. While she remarks at Saja to correct her, she simply shrugs. "I just mean the pressure is even bigger considering his assistant works with him the most."

"I could do it any day." Saja says confidently.

Your and Max's eyes meet for a brief moment, his lips twitch slightly but he seems to not react much. You're slightly curious about his reaction, though you act like you haven't seen it as you continue enjoying your soup. 

"Good luck to you, really," The woman says, "Have you managed to mess something up?"

You swallow down the broth, straightening yourself as you clear your throat. They all stare at you expectedly, the table quieting down. Oh god. "I, ah, I mean is nothing big, at least I think."

They stare even more and you mentally roll your eyes before muttering under his breath.

"I got him the wrong coffee." 

Soyeon turns her head at you, staring and for a moment you think she's silently scolding you. Not that you care, they can all fuck off. You've had a rough day and it hasn't even ended. While the woman stares at you in empathy, Max goes back to eating. 

"I mean it's not that bad." she adds, voicing her empathy. 

"Was he mad?" Max asks. 

"Well," you hesitate, cocking your head to the side. "He wasn't happy for sure."

"Oh poor you." The woman whines as if you're destined for death.

And that's when you glance at Saja. She stares and that's when you know she realizes. You're silent, not really sure if you want to throw her under the bus. It's also a great opportunity to see how she's going to react. She clearly saw your look. It's a silent communication between you.

She clears her throat, "Oh? Was that the wrong one?" 

"Yeah." you deadpan.

"Sorry about that." Is all she says as the conversation drifts to a different topic. You enjoy your meal, finally getting some food into your empty stomach. 

After you're back from lunch break, you get back into sinking as much information as you can on your own. Which means – exploring the new device that has been given to you, along with basic information about Mr. Jeon's meetings, schedule and even the emails he has sent. For a certain time being, you feel utterly lost. Not that's not any news.

You try to not let yourself lose in the craziness and hecticness this company seems to be holding. Everyone seems to work automatically, not mentioning they're synchronized like the greatest machine there could exist. Except, they're all human and perhaps they forget you're one too. Or maybe they just expect you to know everything and jump into this work. Is it possible?

Between the chunks of time you seem to have, you doubt yourself and your abilities. It's not the actual work you doubt. It's the fact that everyone and everything seems to run smoothly and fast, while you're left in your own chaos in the tallest and biggest building on this street. 

Though, you're not as useless as your doubts and anxiety might've made you feel. You get a hang of Mr. Jeon's schedule and work plan. At least most of it. 

This man is busy. Not the usual busy. 

He has meetings every day. It doesn't matter whether they're long or short, it takes most of his time. There is a bunch of material and stuff that needs to be prepared for him – every day – and he has to get through it all. 

No wonder the man is so bitter.

With so much work on his shoulders, you would fuck the money and end this business.

Perhaps, that's why you're not the millionaire here. 

Chuckling at your ridiculous thoughts, you're in the middle of checking the mailbox when the phone rings. Recognizing the four code number, you realize it's Soyeon and you already brace yourself for whatever dumb requests might Mr. Jeon has this time. 

"There is Mr. Kang on the line, he wants to schedule a meeting." 

"Okay–" 

Before you can ask her anything quickly, there's a beep sound before a male's voice resounds in the speaker. Greeting him politely, the call runs smoothly as Mr. Kang seems to be very easy going and helps you navigate yourself even without him knowing. 

You check Mr. Jeon's schedule, noticing Mr. Kang is already one of his partners and it turns out, Mr. Jeon has invested a lot of money into his entertainment business. As he tells you and requests, your boss' presence is needed and it's not a meeting that could be done directly in the company. That's why you choose the day where his schedule is not as crazy. 

You're not sure if you've scheduled it right but Mr. Kang seems to be pleased either way. The call ends shortly after and you're left in silence. Leaning back in your chair, you sigh in relief.

That wasn't so bad. 

With upcoming calls, there are numbers straight up calling you but thanks to the call with Mr. Kang, you already know what to expect. You schedule a few meetings here and there, making sure you make reminders for Mr. Jeon. Some of them had to be added or pushed forward. You're not sure if you're doing well, but you're going with your intention. You'll soon find out anyway. 

Surprisingly, the rest of the days goes like this and your brain is focused on doing the job, rather than stressing over everything. It keeps you pleasantly busy, or perhaps it's because there's no one that brags in here and pours hundreds of new information on you. 

You barely see your boss. He's mostly locked in his office, preferably not wanting to be disturbed – something you quickly pick on. Or maybe it's your assumption because how else would you know? You've been locked in your office (not literally) and doing (hopefully) your job. 

Though, he asks you to bring him one of the old contracts between one of his partners. You search for it, but luckily the previous assistant kept things neat. Therefore, you haven't spent too long searching for it and probably testing Mr. Jeon's patience. 

When you come into his office, after announcing yourself of course with a gentle knock, he taps into his laptop barely giving you any sort of gaze. You're used to it by now. Even though he seems to be busy, you still mentally roll your eyes at the lack of... respect? Acknowledgement? He surely could be more kind if he wanted to.

As you place the contract onto his desk, informing him of it even though he knows, you spin on your heels to get back to the safety and comfort of your office.

"Wait," he says as if it physically pains him to even talk to you. Or maybe it's just the gruff of his voice and the depth in it. You're surely assuming a lot of things. 

Turning around and trying to keep your facial expression polite, you give him a questioning look. One he finally sees when he finally decides to spare you a glance. 

"I need you to reschedule the meeting with Mr. Kang. I already have something planned there."

Frowning in confusion, you try to think back of his schedule you've seen dozens of times by now. Have you made a mistake? You're sure his day was mostly free, in terms of nothing big scheduled and planned.

Or there's a chance he made a mistake? You did send him his schedule though. He must've approved when he had no objections. Until now. 

"Your schedule was free on that day, sir." you inform him, the tone hesitant as if you already suspect he has made a mistake. You're still wary about it though.

He stops typing, his eyes flickering back to your figure for a split second that has your stomach clenched in discomfort. This is it. You're either getting scolded or fired. The first option seems more pleasant. 

"I've got a private schedule." he remarks with the same stoic expression you've seen a handful of times. Does this man have any emotions? Because you're seriously doubting it. 

Oh well. You couldn't have known he has a private schedule. Shouldn't you know about these kinds of things? 

"Oh, sorry. I will reschedule the meeting right away." you say, swallowing down your pride and the need to voice your thoughts. 

Of course, you know you can't speak freely because this is your freaking boss. He's cold and demands professionalism. It wouldn't be right of you to tell him that you didn't in fact know about his private schedule. Because there is no way you would know. 

And perhaps there might be a little luck in all of this. Maybe he clearly sees the distress on your face as he rolls his shoulders before opening his mouth.

"I wanted to add it and send it to you after reviewing my schedule." he informs.

You both stare at each other for a moment, while you're processing the fact he just indirectly told you it's not your fault. He knows you wouldn't know.

"Just make sure the meeting is rescheduled," he mutters, eyes focused on the screen of his laptop again. "You may leave."

Thank you, your Highness.

You leave for real this time. With a tiny feeling of accomplishment in your heart.

Mr. Kang – or what you assume his assistant to be exact – has shown no problem in rescheduling the meeting. You were slightly worried he wouldn't be pleased but after his assistant checked with him, he didn't seem to mind at all.

The sun is setting down and the view from your office is worth every second. You even steal a quick photo of it before you return back to work. 

This room is quite isolated but even the little sounds you could've heard throughout the day, just the ones that let you know this place is active and busy, have subtly faded away. The company is less hectic and everyone's probably on their way home. You won't lie, you've checked time and according to a contract that was given to you, you should've clocked off already.

But – you had a few emails to sort out along with your own personal research of Mr. Jeon's working ethic and schedule. You understand things more now, you studying and trying to get a hang of it certainly helped. 

You're not a coffee drinker but you've made yourself one after stealing five minutes, to get yourself one in the break room. The cup is now empty, sitting on your desk as you've left the door ajar. You have one more email to read before you pack it up. Even Soyeon is not at her desk and you assume she already left home. 

You're in the middle of staring into the screen, your eyes slightly aching as your door is suddenly pushed open. The sound is loud enough to catch your attention, even if it wasn't for your peripheral vision. 

You stare wide-eyed at Mr. Jeon, glancing around as if he's checking to see the room intact. Once he finds nothing suspicious or worth his attention, his gaze falls down on you. 

"What are you doing here?"

Somehow that question is invading, yet it's simple and said with a cold tone.

Opening your mouth, you try to find the right words as he glances at the surely expensive watch hugging his wrist. Not mentioning it all matches with his dark suit. 

"You were supposed to leave an hour ago."

"I wasn't sure–"

"You didn't read the contract?" he cuts you off, frowning. "It clearly states how long your usual working days are."

In fact, you read it. Along with the information that there is something called a basic shift and additional schedule. It consists of special events, occasions when you're needed outside of the company and your usual working time. So far, nobody has really talked about it yet and it's something you need to know about more.

"I wasn't sure–" you continue, louder or at least loud enough to catch his attention and let him know he interrupted you. The way his face twists into irritation is not something you should play with. 

But His Highness is probably not aware that interrupting is considered as impolite.

"--I could leave just like that since it's my first day. Actually, I was planning to finish an email before leaving."

"You're better here when you're well rested each day. I don't need an employee who works overtime because they can't finish their work on time."

The jab is there, loud and clear, one you should've been prepared for. Of course he's going to give you an attitude about this. 

"Didn't Miss Kim tell you when you're supposed to finish?"

You have no idea who Miss Kim is, it's either Saja or Soyeon. But one thing you know, none of them let you know nothing. 

"In fact, no she didn't." you inform him with a pointed look, watching him narrow his eyes at you. 

Whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. "Pack your things and leave."

He goes to turn around and leave, your panic getting the best of you as you quickly jump to your feet. "And come back tomorrow?"

His steps halt to a complete stop as he glances across his shoulder.

"You said you would give me a chance."

"And I'm keeping my word, Miss Y/L/N."

Pressing your lips together, your fingers leaning against your desk as you try to prevent them from shaking. 

"I want all the documents on my desk before eight tomorrow. And don't mess up my coffee."

And he's out of the room, leaving you with your mouth open and eyes widened. You slowly blink, realizing hitting you slowly and surely as your lips stretch into a wide smile.

You're expected here tomorrow. He didn't fire you. 

Yet.

Your legs and walk flow in a confidence you were definitely lacking the day before. Even though this job seems like something where you don't know what to expect every day, you're more content with yourself by your yesterday's performance rather than disappointed and upset about it. 

Though, there is still a slight fear of what's awaiting for you creeping around the corner. But you don't let it ruin your morning. Now when the sun starts to peek in, the morning's fresh air naturally lifts your mood.

Maybe it's not just the fear that could potentially make you anxious. You also have a huge respect for this job. Not only because you need it, but you also want to do your best. While you truly admit you wouldn't be able to work there without Hoseok's help, you'll try to prove you deserve to have a place there.

Mr. Jeon would never even let you enter the building if Hoseok wouldn't persuade him to give you a chance. Figuratively speaking. Mr. Jeon isn't probably the person that deals with employing people from the start. They have to go through different check-ups and rounds until they get a chance to see the boss himself. His word is final though. You don't doubt he's included in all those decisions, but you can't imagine him dealing with every single interested party when it comes to new job positions. 

You truly appreciate Hoseok's help. But you can't help but feel slightly embarrassed that he had to put effort in persuading his friend. You still have Mr. Jeon's face right in front of you. That one look that reminds you why you're there in the first place. 

Your ego has to go. At least you have to push it to a certain level, so you won't get too discouraged. Again, you need this job and the money it offers. This is the only reason why you're walking inside the building, blending in with people you would never truly blend in. At least you don't believe that. 

You're wearing the clothes Soyeon gave you. It's safe to say it's one of the reasons why you look like you're one of them. Well, you are for now. You can only hope you will when you hopefully sign the contract. 

A card is given you at the reception, the kind woman informing you of its use as you simply just have to scan for entry. Not literally. It's just to log in your information to the database of when you're arriving and leaving. Everyone has one.

Glad for this new information, you scan the card in a nearby scanner before waiting for the elevator. You put it into the small and very inconspicuous pocket in your skirt. One thing you've got to say about the attire, is that it makes you confident. You already feel successful while wearing it, which is ridiculous and definitely sounds like it, but it feels like an honor to represent this company. Even on your way here, you noticed a few interested gazes aimed at you.

The material feels expensive, almost forbidden to wear in fear you would stain it somehow. Coming inside here again, you're a newbie regardless of how you feel outside of this tall and massive building. 

As you come up to your floor, greeting who you could call some of your colleagues (despite there's no way you'll get familiar with all of them) Soyeon is not present at her front desk but you're guessing she must be somewhere around. Who you do find and spot coming out one of the rooms is Max. You halt a little, surprised by his sudden presence as he seems equally perplexed to see you. But the look is quickly wiped away as he shoots you a wide and friendly smile. 

"Y/N, so you didn't give up." He tries to joke, clearly hinting at the fact that yes, you're still here. Even though you're not sure why he would think you wouldn't. God knows what they think of you or what information they have about you.

Unless Mr. Jeon is keen to gossip and open with his employees, there shouldn't be too much stuff that could reach their ears. 

"No, not yet." You settle on a faint grin, keeping the joke afloat.

"I do like you, so I really hope you stick around."

"Oh, was that a compliment?" you laugh. He definitely knows how to make someone nervous.

He opens his mouth, a grin still attached to his lips but before he could make you even more assured than he already is (which is a total sarcasm on your part), someone comes out of the break room, interrupting the moment.

"Are you done flirting, Maximilian?" Saja, wearing the same attire as you, hair in a perfect sleek low bun, doesn't bother to show a hint of smile. "Our policy says there are no workplace relationships allowed." She reminds him, almost annoyingly which leaves you totally dumbfounded. 

Glancing at Max, he seems just as dumbfounded because first of all, where's the flirting? Sure, Max is a little on the flirty side but you assume that's a part of his personality. Who knows, but still, such a bold assumption is not exactly appropriate. 

But Max doesn't falter, he doesn't look embarrassed but the way he looks to his side where Saja's standing, he looks her up and down, almost in a bitter way. 

"Is there a reason why you interrupted our flirting?" he asks instead, causing you to almost choke on your spit as you clear your throat and fail to hide the awkwardness you're currently and undoubtedly feeling. 

She chuckles, not buying his attitude. "I need her to show her stuff. So please, take it somewhere else and preferably to someone else. But make sure Mr. Jeon doesn't know about it."

"You and your threats."

"The company's policy. Not threats." She corrects.

Are you interrupting something?

Max turns to you, rolling his eyes. "You know, friendliness is not against our policy."

"Explain it to Mr. Jeon, once he's the one who catches you."

"Catches doing exactly what? Talking to my new colleague? Please." 

You purse your lips, shifting weight on your feet. This is really awkward.

"Max," she says his name, laughing almost bitterly as she shakes his head as if to call out his bullshit. He doesn't move though, lifting his brow. "I'm just informing you."

"I don't need you informing me. I'm very much familiar with our policy. Now, Y/N, it was lovely talking to you and I do hope we will talk in the future, preferably not getting caught by someone." he teases, grinning at you as your cheeks heathen up as you send him an unsure grin. 

You murmur something in return, not even sure what comes out of your mouth as he shoots you one last smile before walking away. Saja stands there, raising her brow at you almost as if it's your turn to get scolded. 

"I wasn't lying. Mr. Jeon does not allow any relationships. I'm sure it's in your contract."

The one that isn't signed yet though. You keep that to yourself. 

First of all, you didn't even think about Max that way. Not unless she made it seem as if it's something bigger than it really was. Not aware of her true intentions, you don't even try thinking of it because it's pointless. 

"Is there a reason why?" you ask instead, her brows shooting up in a silent surprise at your question instead.

"I'm pretty sure it's because it could potentially ruin the progress of working. Just measure to avoid any misunderstandings and problems. Most companies do that. At least the ones I worked at did."

"Max seems like a friendly person. I don't think he was flirting."

A little annoyed as she seems to look, perhaps it's the still ongoing topic that annoys her, she stays silent for a moment. You don't give her the time to respond though. 

"It was nothing but a friendly conversation. Nothing to suspect or worry about."

The look on her face is worth your slightly passive-aggressive reaction as a grin threatens to make it to your lips. "Well, I advise you that."

"Thank you, I will take it to heart." you promise her, almost cackling when her expression drops and it turns more serious.

"Let's go to the office. I need to explain a few things before Mr. Jeon arrives." she grits through her teeth.

Despite the not so friendly exchange, a smile remains on your face as you slowly follow her to your office with slightly more confident steps.

During the ten minutes that are spent in the pleasant interior of your office, you deduce Saja is more informative and helpful than she was yesterday. Regardless of how quickly words spill out of her mouth to the point you think you might get a whiplash (again), you're trying to sink every information she has for you. She even made a few notes, point by point, that consists of basic information you'll need. 

You appreciate the work she put into that, or that she took the time to write all of that, regardless of its length. With that being said and sent to your mail, she leaves you to do your job since the time is ticking and Mr. Jeon will be here any minute. 

As explained and not forgotten, you make sure the cup in your hold and its content is the right one. Despite your boss' words of how he wants his employees well rested (though you're not sure if that's possible due to the amount of stress and work), you have barely slept well. Though, you hope the make-up you're wearing hides that tiny secret well. 

You don't dare to judge. Everyone here seems to be working well, perhaps they don't experience as much stress like you do – obviously. 

Coming inside his office after announcing yourself of course, you're not shocked at the lack of eye-contact and attention as you settle the cup down.

"I hope it's the right one." he says, something in his tone that you can't quite point out. Did he just make a joke? As many things here and in life generally, you don't dare to say and be sure. You don't know him and his personality is something you're still trying to figure out.

It's that moment and a few seconds of lingering silence that eventually causes him to pry his dark brown eyes off the laptop's screen, setting those distant and dark orbs on you. It's the clear quirk of his brow that brings you back into reality.

"Of course it is." It's funny how quickly you say it, with urgency as if you didn't get it wrong only yesterday. To your defense, it wasn't exactly your fault. Actually, it wasn't your fault at all. Saja made it and you just brought it to him. 

It still bothers you that you're the one who messed up in his eyes. Or in anyone's for that matter. He watches you for a second, enough to make you nervous while you're inches from his desk and well, him. He does radiate dominance and coldness. It doesn't make sense that Hoseok is friends with him. He's a complete opposite.

As much as you're curious about the man in front of you, you prefer not to ask your friend too much about him and his life. One, it shouldn't interest you enough to want to know it. Second, Hoseok is a very good friend with him and not only that, they're some distant family. While Hoseok is your friend and the closest person you have in the country, he's not your best friend that could potentially spill you anything. 

In other words, it wouldn't be exactly wise to try and pry. After all, your curiosity should go aside because this is your job. You shouldn't play with fire or dig into this and him. You won't risk that. 

"I had your documents and papers prepared before you came in,"

Stupid. You inform him of something he clearly saw when he came in here. 

"I hope everything's right."

"You hope?" he questions his brow in the same position that has been questioning you. 

He leans back against his chair, elbow resting on the arm handle as he brushes his fingers over his chest. He doesn't pry his eyes off you.

"You really want this job, right?"

You open your mouth and give him a look, once you can't even define yourself but obviously almost spills out of it. He notices it, he surely does because the little twitch the corner of his mouth makes is enough proof of it.

"I want to do my job right, sir. I'm still new and I'm learning." you answer him, diplomatically with a hint of honesty and roughness that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by him. 

Whatever argument he would have prepared, he decides to keep his mouth shut and just watches you with almost piqued interest. Or he's deep in thoughts, like you said, you can't quite figure him out.

"Learning is fine, but I hope you're aware you have to be quick at it. We don't have time for any slackers or slowness."

Well, damn. What encouraging words. 

"I'm not a slacker and I hope I'm not slow either."

If he knew you even dreamed about this job, your first day haunting you even in your sleep.

"You do a lot of hoping."

"Sometimes it's the only thing we can do."

He stays silent for a moment, "I could argue with that," he protests but he says it with no remorse or anything negative. Just merrily points out. "I could also give you a few encouraging words, but I'm not sure what help would that make."

It would certainly make you not want to shit your pants in his presence, but you don't tell him that. 

You're not here long enough, but you can't imagine him being all sweet and encouraging. It just doesn't suit him at the moment. You're aware of your judgment and assuming, so you stop and straighten yourself more.

"I need to see results, not give out hope."

That's a bit cold, but you offer him a short nod.

"Got it."

"Alright," he sighs, straightening himself that he's no longer in his leaned back comfortable position. "I need you to get a car ready for today's lunch. I have a meeting at that time and you're coming with me."

You nod, hiding your shock and maybe fear? Who knows. 

"Any restaurant preference?"

"Italian. The one in the Four Seasons Hotel. Call them and reserve us a table. Just mention the name Jeon and they should confirm it."

"Got it, sir. I'll call them right away."

He nods, scooting closer to his desk, dismissing you with no other words needed. 

Turns out, he has a driver for special occasions. Not sure if lunch with a business partner is a special occasion, but this time you meet Mr. Jeon in an underground garage. Not having the guts to ask if you're late, you keep your mouth shut and the two of you get inside the car. 

You're sure you're not late, you were informed about the specific time when you delivered him the news of the successful reservation. Soyeon, whom you met during the day, has given you some details of how usually these meetings work and how you should prepare. Turns out, you're there to assist Mr. Jeon – schedule any possible future meetings and give him information about his schedule. 

It's understandable that a man with so much work on his shoulders can't remember every single thing, just as much as he can't manage the little details. That's why he has an assistant, that's why you're going. 

The reason for your presence there is no secret to you, and you knew that without Soyeon telling you. Still, you appreciate her trying to help. 

The drive there is spent in silence, a little awkward you would say. One of Mr. Jeon's driver is an older man. Not too old though, maybe old enough to be your father but he seems nice and polite. You can't exactly tell when all you exchanged were greetings before you joined your boss in the backseat.

You also can't say it's the most comfortable ride. You mean... Mr. Jeon is sitting right next to you, even though there's a little space between you – it's still the closest you've been to him so far. 

Man with such distance he seems to radiate, it feels odd to be so close to. He's a stranger, someone who literally has your destiny in the palm of his hands. Big hands at that. 

Something you've noticed before but is clear now as well. You're purely judging the way his phone looks small in his hold. You don't dare to make it visible that you're silently side-eyeing the man. He's not exactly the type to break the awkward silence, but he seems to be too engrossed in his phone to maybe even notice. Or care. 

The silent radio music is the only thing that prevents complete silence. And you find yourself staring from the window, your purse clutched to your side with the needed iPad in it.

It's when a rustling sound comes from the side, catching your attention as you watch Mr. Jeon tucks his phone back into his slacks pocket checking his surroundings out of the window. 

"Mr. Liang owns an agency that represents people who would potentially want business investors to invest in them." Mr. Jeon suddenly says, breaking the silence with his smooth but deep voice.

The moment you both share a look, which is just simply looking into each other's eyes, you almost panic and look away. You hold the stare though, not wanting to get intimidated by the man's eyes or aura. He seems clueless about that, more notes the slight surprise or confusion on your face.

"It's not important information but you can't go there and be completely clueless." he explains, causing you to nod in understatement.

"I thought most business partners come straight to you." Meaning to his company and through their employees, they got to the boss – Mr. Jeon.

You're not ashamed to have a question, a meer curiosity coming to the surface. Mr. Jeon doesn't look bothered, which is a good sign. 

"They do. But most people don't have the resources to do so. We're not a company you can just easily approach. We're talking about millions here, not a few bucks. So owners of agencies like Mr. Liang, they take care of all the important stuff. They take a share from the potential success, that is if I decide to invest in whatever they come up with."

"But they still pay for it, right? They have to be able to allow an agency to represent them."

"Of course. Nothing's for free, Miss Y/L/N," he answers, "If it's a beginner whose business is new, they usually take loans. They still need to pay."

You know how frustrating it feels not to have enough money to be able to go after your dreams. It's a sad reality. People have to take a risk to be able to go after them, most of the time to get into debts. 

It's surely not something Mr. Jeon has ever gone through. You don't judge him. He had the luck to be born into a rich family, which doesn't always have to be positive. You're just comparing the two different worlds. Regardless of that and anything that's obvious, Mr. Jeon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. 

You wonder if he can even empathize with the struggles these people, or any ordinary mortal is going through. Does he even realize how tough it is for some people? In a way, he's helping them by investing his money into their business but still. It's not for free. You've seen the numbers. He has a good share after that as well. 

After all, he wouldn't invest if it caused him to lose the money. He needs a profit off the things he invests his money into. And from the looks of it, he's doing a fucking amazing job at it. 

You arrive to the Four Seasons Hotel shortly after, Mr. Jeon dismisses his driver's attempt of opening the door for him. It's a little detail but you notice it nevertheless, focusing on yourself instead and trying not to trip in your heels.

Mr. Liang is already inside by the time you get greeted by the lovely staff. Their swift greetings aimed at the man beside you prove he is a regular here. That much was clear to you when he said to mention his name when you were about to make the reservation. 

Just like the most business partners you had a chance to see, Mr. Liang is older than your boss for sure. He's in his mid fifties for sure, but his appearance screams important and business. You're purely judging it by his suit and overall vibe. For his age, Mr. Liang definitely takes good care of himself. 

He's either surprised Mr. Jeon hasn't come alone or because he sees a new face. But judging from the information you've received, you would say it's the second option. You're right because seconds after and after the two men bow at each other, he looks at you. 

"New assistant?" he questions with a smile, outstretching his hand for you to shake.

You politely take it, bowing to him. Mr. Jeon watches the interaction, sitting down as he adjusts his suit. "We'll see."

Is all he says, your frown wanting to come to the surface but you surpass it. It's awkward and perhaps quite embarrassing to hear him saying that in front of a stranger. Mr. Liang seems to be a little taken back, but for whatever reason (or his own sake) he does not ask any further questions. 

They start chit-chatting when menu orders are given to you. You stay quiet, pulling out the iPad from your purse to prepare. Drinks are ordered and you stick to the soda, even though it's nothing like you. It's not like you should care about the bill, one of those two surely pays but still. It's a safe choice. 

"I'll come back to take your meal order." The waiter says, bowing to everyone at the table before he retrieves back.

The man starts picking their food, silently flicking through the menu. "Order something too." 

Mr. Jeon speaks beside you, not lifting up his gaze as he still scans the item in his hands. 

"This should be your lunch break, Miss Y/L/N," he reminds you.

You notice Mr. Liang lifts his eyes to watch you two but his lips stay sealed shut. 

"So order something and eat."

Well, how were you supposed to know that? At least he informed you and spared you the embarrassment of having to spend this meeting with an almost empty stomach. It's a bare minimum but regardless of that, this is still work. You're working during your lunch break. So it is touching that he wants you to eat and not starve.

That would be a really asshole move, considering they're about to have lunch during this.

"Okay." you almost whisper, looking at Mr. Liang as you send him a tiny smile. He reciprocates it and luckily, gives you no attention.

After you order the food, the two business men go straight to work. You assistate, jumping in whenever you're needed and after tasting delicious Italian food, you feel better about the entire meeting. Everything runs smoothly and even though it's hard to detect any positive emotions on Mr. Jeon's face, he seems to be pleased enough with the outcome.

Surely, you can't be a good judge of this, but considering this is your second day properly working in this company, you're proud of yourself because you knew everything. You haven't done anything ridiculously hard, mainly gave information of Mr. Jeon's schedule and did research when he asked you to, but still. You're proud of yourself.

There was not a moment where you were lost and that's a win. Especially in the presence of the boss himself. 

When you get back, Mr. Jeon retrieves back to his office, informing you he doesn't want to be disturbed and all calls should be handled by you or anyone else. You nod at that, bowing at him one last time before you separate your ways. 

"How was it going?" Soyeon asks once she spots you walking by her desk, her eyes sparking with hidden interest and curiosity.

How was it going? You ask yourself. Releasing the breath, a content smile makes it up on your face. "It went actually well."

Soyeon's brows lift up as if she expected something else, though it's quickly wiped away as she gives you a cheerful smile and thumbs up. 

You're ready to walk away but you halt in your steps. "Mr. Jeon does not want to be disturbed." you inform her.

The entire moment is professional, bringing something joyful to the hopeless situation you're in. You're merely informative, making sure Mr. Jeon's orders don't go ignored. Soyeon nods, watching you the entire time you walk to your office.

You sit in your chair, leaning back as you stare at the ceiling, giggling to yourself. The joyful moment doesn't last long though, the phone ringing loudly brings you back to reality and reminds you that nothing is won yet. 

But it's on a good path and that's exactly what you let remind yourself for the rest of the day. 

"Is your boss hot?"

The second day at your work has ended successfully and so far, Mr. Jeon hasn't come to find you and deliver bad news. That's enough to celebrate and perhaps open a bottle of wine to celebrate, but you simply cannot. You can't risk a headache or potential hangover. 

Since living overseas can be lonely and the last thing you want is to bother Hoseok. He has his own job and can't hang out with you whenever you feel like it. Therefore, you didn't consider inviting him over because there's no need to.

And FaceTiming with your older sister is just enough. It's what you used to do most of the time when you were back home. 

She moved out to Spain at the age of twenty-two which is sooner than you. For you, it was difficult to leave home and everyone there. For her, not as much. She has always been more adventurous and braver when it came to stuff like this. That's why it was such a surprise you decided to move here. Well, you did talk about wanting to come here but it was mostly fantasy talk.

She surely didn't take you seriously, knowing you wouldn't just pack your things and leave. However, you've met Hoseok and if it weren't for him, you wouldn't have the guts to leave.

"What? You did say he's young." she elaborates, shrugging at the raised brow you're showing her.

"So he's gotta be hot as well?"

If it were for you, that's exactly how you would describe your boss. Which by the way, seems very inappropriate and you almost get embarrassed for thinking it. It feels weird to be talking about it openly, even if it's your sister. 

She visibly shrugs, propping her chin on her palm. "He's young and successful. It would be a shame if he wasn't hot, just saying."

"He's decent," you hum instead, not giving the pleasure to unknowing Mr. Jeon that yes, he is hot indeed. The fucker knows it anyway for sure. "I'm more concerned about his personality. He's very firm."

You elaborate more, explain her everything from beginning in more details since messages do not give it justice. She's no stranger to your situation. 

"Well, thank god for your friend then," she says after you tell her about the interactions you've experienced with your boss. "And you don't have to work for him forever, right? You just gotta stay there for a while and then you could find something different."

"Whatever that's gonna be, I feel like it's not gonna be anything better."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because his company is one of the best known in South Korea. He's a millionaire."

"Maybe you could work for another millionaire then." she jokes, earning another glare from you. 

"It's not that simple."

"Hm," she hums, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Is he like, super famous? I could google him. What was his name?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "He's known but he's private. People tend to put their interest and attention on idols and actors, actresses. Not millionaire heirs."

"You know what you should do?"

"What?" you deadpan, knowing one of her brilliant ideas are about to come out. 

"You should make more friends. You never know. They might help you in the future, in any field."

That's not exactly a bad idea, you know what she means. 

"I'm not gonna make friends just so they could help me when I need them." you point out.

"That's now what I meant," she argues, "Not in that way. But it's not bad to know more people. You gotta understand you don't have your family there, Y/N."

"I know that." you mutter, rubbing your forehead as you make yourself more comfortable in your bed. 

"Just think about it."

"Yeah, yeah." you wave the topic off. "I'm ready to make more friends. But currently, there aren't many opportunities to do so."

"What about your co-workers?"

"Right," You press your lips together. "They're all... I don't know, some of them are very welcoming and obviously, the company is large so I don't know everyone. I don't think it's even possible. But some of them are really serious. I don't know how to explain it."

"Maybe it's a cultural thing?" she questions.

"They're just very skilled in everything and I'm a newbie." You're reminded of Max's words. He calls you a newbie. 

"It will get better, I'm sure."

You're not sure about that, but you nod and end the topic there. You catch up over other stuff, mainly your sister talking about the reconstruction of her and her boyfriend's bathroom. Once a set of yawns keep coming in the midst of your call, you decide to end it there.

Making sure your alarm is set, even though it's automatic by now, it takes you a minute to stare at the ceiling before darkness swallows you whole. 

This time more confident to meet Mr. Jeon's orders and deep eyes that follow you into your dreams.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

You are my absolute favorite Elvis writer. I have a request...😏🙏🏻. Could you doooo smut with either 1964 E ike Frankie and Johnny ...or bde.. I'm torn between the two. Can you doooo like the reader gets really mad at Elvis for some reason and she tries to dominate him but he puts her in her place?

Hot 'n' Cold

A/N: Thank you so much anon, that's so sweet! I went for 1964 E as I feel he doesn't get quite so much love on here. This turned out a little... mean? Perhaps the closest to a yandere Elvis I have ever written (but still not that close!)

Pairing: 1964!Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.6K

TWs: Slapping (reader slaps E), infidelity, rough sex, possessive kink, breeding kink, reader cries, mood swings, p in v sex.

“Don’t be silly, baby. I have to kiss her. It’s in the script.”

Elvis has just returned from filming Viva Las Vegas and he’s already a little frustrated with your lack of enthusiastic welcome home. He knew you’d be annoyed with all the stories in the papers, but he wasn’t expecting to be ambushed with questions the minute he walked through the door. He’s trying to play it cool though, hands thrust in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face. 

You draw yourself up to your full height (all five foot two of it) and shake your head determinedly. 

“It’s not just kissing, El, and you know it.”

“Baby. Come on,” he wheedles, closing the distance between you and putting his hand on your cheek. This sort of thing usually does the trick when you’ve heard something about some other woman.

You push him away, angrily. “No. You can’t charm your way out of this one, Mr Presley.” 

He sighs loudly, letting his hand fall back down next to his hip. “Whaddya want from me, then?”

He’s basically pouting at you now, and you don’t think that’s fair. He doesn’t get to pout, when he’s the one who’s been fooling around. You’ve seen the papers, you know the story, but this time it seems more serious than usual. What do you want from him? Marriage, commitment, babies… the whole fairytale. But right now? Right now you want to get even. 

“I want you to learn your lesson.”

Elvis cocks an eyebrow. “What lesson, honey?” You’ve never spoken to him like this before and he’s not sure he likes it. 

You huff now. “That you can’t mess around with other girls, El.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve told you, I’m not messing…”

You stare at him, angrily, trying to think of the sorts of things he usually says to you and how you can turn them back on him. But you’re too worked up, so you can’t think of anything other than slapping him across the face. 

“Ow!” 

He stares back at you in complete disbelief, his hand moving to rub his stinging cheek. You’ve definitely never done that before and he’s sure he doesn’t like it. 

“You deserved that!”

You kind of enjoyed slapping him, the rush of adrenalin through your body and the look on his face afterwards… In fact you enjoyed it so much you’re about to do it again, but he anticipates it, grabbing your wrist roughly. 

“Uh-uh, no you don’t.”

You try to wriggle out of his grasp but it just gets firmer and he catches your other hand now too, since it’s flying around dangerously close to his face in a way he doesn’t care for at all.

“Elvis!” You just about shriek, as he spins you around and walks you backwards until you collide with the wall. 

“Shush.”

He’s never known you to be like this, but then he’s never had a relationship go quite so public. He certainly didn’t want it all over the papers, it was embarrassing for God’s sake and he’d told Ann as much. But you can’t slap him. Whatever he might’ve done. 

He stands, pressing you against the wall with his body, holding your hands out to either side of your head for just a moment. Your head swims, wondering what he’s going to do next, your body reacting embarrassingly quickly to him being so close and so dominant. You’re supposed to be pissed with him but your panties are already soaked. His lips collide with yours in a bruising kiss and you can’t help yourself, moaning into his mouth. His hand is under your dress and pulling down your panties and then you hear him undoing his belt. He grabs your leg and forces it up as high as it will go (which is pretty high, you used to be a gymnast), stopping kissing you to watch your reaction as he thrusts inside you in one quick movement. Your eyes roll back in your head and you groan. 

“Whose pussy is this?” He growls, lips and teeth finding the skin below your ear.

“Y-yours, El…” you moan. 

He’s let your wrists go since you’re impaled on his dick now, trapped between him and the wall, and your fingers find the hair on the back of his head and knit themselves into it. 

“Good.”

He starts to move, short little thrusts, trying to drive himself somehow even deeper inside you. You whimper, fingertips pressing into his scalp, feeling almost uncomfortably full. 

“I decide when I want it,” he continues, his voice low and dangerous. “You make sure it’s always ready for me. Y’hear?”

His eyes are staring into yours now and it’s all you can do to nod and tell him yes. He starts to thrust a little more now, drawing out slowly and then slamming back into you full force. Your body rocks and you cry out. 

“No tellin’ me who I can see and who I can’t.”

You look down at him through tear-filled eyes as he keeps up the torturous rhythm. 

“I’m Elvis Fucking Presley and I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

You’re still whimpering, so he stops moving, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing them, forcing you to look at him. A tear runs down your face. 

“Did you fucking hear me?”

“Y-yes. Yes. I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t expect you to j-just want one girl.”

He lets go of your face, suddenly seeing the tears there and gently wiping them away with his thumb. 

“Good girl,” he says, softly, picking up a much gentler pace now. “Takin’ me so well.”

You try to steady your breathing but you feel all over the place, he’s being so gentle now it makes you want to cry more, somehow. 

“I love this pussy, baby,” he murmurs, sensually. “It’s so good to me.”

You still can’t speak so you just sniff in response. He starts to kiss your neck, rolling his hips into you in a way he knows is guaranteed to make you cum. Your sniffs turn to soft moans. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Mmmm. Yes.” You bite your lip, trying to control the tears. His mood swings can be so difficult to deal with.

You can feel the edges of your orgasm as he keeps rolling into you, his heavy breath hot on your ear, little moans falling from his lips as he feels your walls start to flutter in anticipation. 

“C’mon baby. You can do it.”

The words of encouragement push you over the edge and you squeeze him, your orgasm ripping through your body and making you moan. He moans too, feeling you and hearing you, and he knows it won’t take much for him now either. He starts to pick up the pace, quick thrusts that slam your body into the wall repeatedly. 

“You want me to make ya a mama?” He pants. 

Your eyes go wide like saucers and you nod quickly. “Yes, y-yes please.”

“I’m gonna fill ya up… make ya mine…”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s never spoken to you like this, he always pulls out and cums somewhere else, so worried about accidentally getting you pregnant, so sure about it not being the right time for a baby yet.

“Please… please El…” you can’t believe you’re begging him right now, when you’ve already cum, but you want a baby so much. 

“Can’t wait ta see ya growing that baby inside ya…” he continues, thrusting even faster. “Knowing yer gonna be mine forever…”

“Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.” It’s like his words alone are pushing you to another orgasm. 

“That what you want?”

“More than anything, El.”

There’s a wicked glint in his eye as he pushes your leg somehow even higher and hits somewhere deep inside you. You cry out in ecstasy and another orgasm hits you, almost as strong as the first, and you find yourself hanging on to him desperately as your legs turn to jelly and he pounds you through it. 

“Fuck!” 

He cries out, shooting his release into you, your walls squeezing it out of him for what seems like minutes. When he’s finally done he staggers backwards and pulls you with him. 

“Lie down on your back and put your feet up in the air.”

You stumble over to the bed and do as you’re told, your brain foggy and confused and unable to fathom why you’re doing what you’re doing. Eventually you ask.

“What’s this for, El?”

He’s lying next to you, holding your hand kind of sweetly. 

“It’s the best thing to do to make it take.”

You look at him, baffled. 

“To make a baby, honey.”

Your eyes go wide again. “You meant it?”

“Of course I meant it, honey. Imagine a little Presley runnin’ around the place. Can’t think of anything better.”

“So… you… are we gonna get married?” 

He nods. “When the time is right. You’ll see. For now you just concentrate on eating right and growing that little baby inside you. And if this one doesn’t take, there’s plenty more chances to practice…”

You smile and let him kiss you, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you can’t help wondering when exactly the time will be right. As you curl up in bed with him later that night, and he rubs your belly and tells you he can’t wait for it to be full, you wonder if this will mean he’ll stop wanting to be with other girls. Surely if you’re married and you give him the baby you both want so much, he’ll be happy? And surely you will too?

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

[haggishlyhagging]

English speakers have a set of [+ male] predicates for penile activities and what can be done to the penis: father, sire, beget, impregnate, penetrate, ejaculate, castrate, fertilize, deflower, inseminate and emasculate. There is no semantically symmetrical set of predicates for activities performed by or to the clitoris, labia majora or minora. Male perceptions and activities dominate the sex-marked predicates, which is, perhaps, the structural reason they are a fixed set, closed to women. The semantic structure reflects social reality: men take over whatever they like from the women's sphere with impunity. Indeed, they think of such acquisitiveness as their right and prerogative.

Shut out of agency in sex-marked predicates, women must rely on nouns and multisyllabic phrases to describe our experiences. What we have are nominals—clitoridectomy, infibulation, excision, and hysterectomy (since women's genitalia are categorized not as sexual parts of our anatomy but as reproductive "equipment," "plumbing")—or phrases in which the predicate is one of the helping or semantically empty verbs: to get/be aroused, to get/ be excited, to get/be hot, to have an orgasm. But none of those phrases is uniquely [- male]. If anything, they are sex-neutral, and both sexes use them. I would suggest, however, that as women have acknowledged they have sexual feelings and decided they want to talk about them, they have borrowed already available, formerly [+ male] terms. Thus, lacking a female-specific word like ejaculate, women have begun to use the noun orgasm as a verb: "I orgasmed all night."

In fact, a woman's sexual experience and feelings are nonexistent if we believe that the English vocabulary describes reality, because there are no [- male] words for sexuality. There are hundreds of words and phrases for male sexuality and what men do to women; the slang vocabulary of English reflects the male's obsession with his penis and its "'personality." Men even name their penises and talk about them as though they lead an independent existence. Men's obsession with their penises and its structural centrality in PUD is a given, rarely worthy of comment. Men are "supposed" to be obsessed with fucking women. (Men who aren't are deviant.) One can say of a woman, "She's oversexed," but we rarely hear that adjective used to describe a man. Instead, the categorial dichotomy—men have the predicates, women get nouns—again applies. There is a predicate for describing the male activity of fucking lots of women, "womanize," and a noun, "womanizer." A woman obsessed with letting men fuck her is a "nymphomaniac," not a "*mannizer." There is no such [- male] agentive noun; it would be a semantic contradiction because PUD assumes that agency is inherently [+ male]. Womanizer and nymphomaniac both express negative judgments, as Gary Hart, Jimmy Bakker, and Jimmy Swaggert could testify, but unless a womanizing man lives in the public arena, his "weakness" is more likely to be overlooked or tacitly condoned. A woman, however, once branded as a "nymphomaniac," is condemned to a more marginal life than most heterosexuals.

To the best of my knowledge, women have not shown the exaggerated regard for their clitorises men give to their penises. When women talk about their genitals, they say "'down there." Whereas men's genitalia are objects, women's are described as a location. In contrast to the penile vocabulary [- male] words and phrases focus on the place where men stick their penises or the end result of heterosexual coitus for women, having babies. An exception to this is the verb menstruate, which is intransitive (there is no object) and requires a [- male] agent. Other female biological processes, however, can be talked about only as states, as nouns. Women "go through menopause," we "have a climacteric," even though menopause is a process that continues for years, sometimes a decade or more. And, to avoid using the one verb we do have, women have an extensive vocabulary of euphemisms: fall off the roof, be on the rag, Aunt Jane is visiting, red Herbie has come, to be unwell, have a period, be on the mattress, it's that time of the month, and have the monthlies. Women do not act; we have a function: reproduction. PUD describes our lives as nouns, nouns, and more nouns.

-Julia Penelope, Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Fathers’ Tongues

[wellofdean]

Re: Dean, the MoC, Amara & Mary cont'd.

Post 2 of ?

In my previous post, I tried to set up the origin of Amara -- she is born OF DEAN as the result of his contention with the MoC (his shadow, or the contents of his personal unconscious), but now, who is she? Amara is the personification of an aspect of Anima, which Jung describes as the feminine principle within the collective unconscious of a man, which is a primordial, mysterious, elemental force.

Amara is the original bearer of the mark, so now, instead of looking into the face of his personal darkness, or the disowned part of his own personality, Dean is looking at the much more difficult to fathom Archetypal source of ALL (Collective) darkness, the disowned facet of all creation. Amara is the manifested half of the 'dark' side of every fundamental duality: light and dark, heaven and earth, masculine and feminine, logos and eros, order and chaos, etc.

Now, it's important to realize that many languages (and definitely English) have, embedded within them, a constellation of metaphors with connotative meaning: light is good, dark is bad. It's important, for the purposes of thinking about this topic to consciously forgo those connotative meanings in favor of neutrality, because, as in a photographic negative, both light and dark are necessary to create the picture, and contain within themselves the seed/manifestation of the other. The yin/yang symbol shows this very explicitly: ☯️. These opposing aspects of fundamental duality are proposed as the neutral, necessary cosmic elements without which, nothing could be, and they are equals without hierarchy.

Ok, so. To the story: I will tell you without reservation that when Amara first arrived and put her hands on my darling Dean, I fucking hated her. It deeply creeped me out when Amara touched his face, her fingers making depressions in his skin, and when she kissed him, I had to watch that shit through the gaps in my fingers. Those moments are all pretty intensely and INTENTIONALLY violating and unsettling, and that is how we are supposed to feel about them, and it's very obviously how Dean feels about them. Jensen understood the assignment, and fucking delivered as usual, because he is EXCELLENT at his job. There is not a single moment of Dean's responsiveness to her that doesn't feel icky and coerced.

While the text does play with our expectations about what will happen when a man gets sexed up by a beautiful woman with amazing boobs, it's pretty important to notice that Amara is not even remotely a 'love interest'. In fact, she's not even a woman; she is a symbol -- a personification of darkness as opposed to light, the feminine as opposed to masculine, destruction as opposed to creation, chaos as opposed to order -- she is the dark side of every imaginable duality in the flesh and Dean is weak before her as anyone would be (and is in the story). She is essentially, elementally bewildering and dangerous. On top of all that, Dean is not her opposite, cooperative force, Chuck is. She is not Dean's projection of the primordial feminine (Anima) she is Chuck's. Further, if we have been watching carefully and we are picking up what MoC Dean was putting down, we know that Dean's heart is engaged to another. He cannot love her for so many reasons. He can only be in her thrall.

Supernatural does every little thing it can to make whatever is going on between Amara and Dean weird and gross. Like, she is an infant he carries in his arms, a little girl who comes on to him in a threatening way, and a woman who forces herself on him. He clearly doesn't want to be there and SAYS SO when he's not with her, but can't understand or deny her pull when he is. He can't understand what the feelings he has for her are, but he knows he can't hurt her, that he is drawn to her, has to respond to her. Like, no one involved was presenting this as GOOD. It is deeply uncomfortable. If you hate Amara for coercing Dean, and feel icked to hell whenever they interact, congratulations! You're supposed to! But I think it's useful to consider what she actually represents in the narrative, and why contending with her is an important part of Dean's process.

Amara is also, it is very important to this particular narrative to note, the side of the duality that AS A CULTURE, we tend to devalue, because Chuck forced hierarchy upon that which is equal. Amara has been the victim of a great injustice: she has been denied, suppressed and imprisoned by Chuck/god himself. She is Chuck's disowned shadow. And this is what I mean when I say the Supernatural very often DEPICTS misogyny intentionally in order to critique it rather than actually replicating it with an unconscious rubber stamp. Chuck's actions are presented as unjust. The suppression and subjugation of the feminine is wrong in Supernatural's cosmology, and ultimately, personally, I can't hate her because I love what she is to the story.

AND!! There is a great deal of correspondence between Dean and Amara. Both of them have been caged in a way. For Dean, it's the way he has suppressed the soft side of his nature. The way every vulnerable desire he has ever had has been sacrificed to 'the life' and it began in childhood. Dean is so unusually compelling because so much of his Shadow is actually constructive and positive, and full of love,

And, Dean and Amara are both angry, and the source of the anger is what has been denied them. For Dean, it's the life he might have had without hunting, without having to become what he is, and endure what he has endured, and for Amara, it's her rightful place in the cosmic order. She is the primordial feminine side of the dual nature of all creation, and Dean has suppressed so much of himself that is culturally configured as feminine.

I love that Amara thinks she wants Dean to "unite" with her the whole season long, but then learns how far Dean is from wanting that, because while Dean might be struggling to let what is soft in himself live, in his life, this is not manifested or projected onto a woman, it's queered. Like, using this scaffolding for the story and then making it EXPLICIT that she is not the site of Dean's desire is SO LOUD, my friends. So much of Jung's writing on this topic is so difficult to accept if your orientation to the world lacks a fundamental assumption of gender essentialism, and Supernatural managed to QUEER that by making Dean's dualities with Cas (heaven and earth!) more important than any relationship with ANY woman. It was right there, and would have been SO EASY, but ... Nope. They leaned in to the queer.

I love when Amara realises where Dean's heart is engaged (and, let's remember that during this season, Cas has surrendered his vessel to Lucifer, and that Dean has suffered endless mockery and insensitivity about his love for Cas):

In the end, Dean becomes the soul bomb that will destroy her to save heaven and earth from the combined destructive force of Chuck's unintegrated Shadow and the Archetypal manifestation of darkness and destruction, but it's his shadow work, his understanding of broken-hearted vulnerability to love that allows him to really see her, see what she actually needs, and find a way to give it to her, allowing Amara to forgive and find rapprochement with Chuck.

Unfortunately, Chuck is still a little self-involved shit, so...

So finally, we arrive at Mary. After Dean gives Amara the empathy she needs to put down her anger and make peace with Chuck, she diffuses the bomb in his soul, and gives him what he REALLY needs...

(to be continued, because it's just...too long.)

(GO TO PART 3)

[sage-exe]

Darkling x Fem Reader

Pairing: Darkling x Fem Reader

Summary: word has been spreading around that you where the Darkling’s whore, it made you upset, when you go to talk to the Darkling about this reoccurring issue the two of you get a little side tracked..

Word count: 4K words

Warnings: slut shaming?, nsfw, angry sex, corruption kink, consensual sex, breeding kink, bondage kink kinda, obsession, wife kink, hair pulling

You were wandering the halls of the little palace after dinner, searching for the library. You overheard some Grisha whispering to one another around the corner, curious you started to snoop.

“Yeah, that ‘sun summoner’ is probably just his whore, she’s not actually as strong as he says she is, she didn’t even grow up here, he simply likes fucking her.”

You were taken aback by the harsh words, gripping onto your black kefta as tears welled up in your eyes. You rushed off to the Darkling’s quarters only to be stopped by Ivan, one of his guards.

“He’s busy.” You frowned and tried to push past him.

“P..Please this is important.. let me see him for just a minute..” you kept trying to push past the wall of muscle to no avail till suddenly he let you pass, leaving you stumbling and almost slamming right against the Darkling himself.

“Hello, is something the matter?” He spoke in a calm, velvety voice. You nodded and he led you inside his quarters.

“What’s going on?” He leaned against the war room table and crossed his arms.

“T..The Grisha are spreading rumors that I’m just your little whore, that I’m not worthy of being here because I didn’t grow up in the little palace..” you frowned, still upset hearing the news a second time. The Darkling hummed, almost bemused by your frustrations.

“And what am I supposed to do about it? If I mention this issue they’ll only suspect it more.” You glared at his expression and felt rage build up inside you, he was right of course, but the fact he didn’t show much care in the matter made you upset. You pointed a finger into his chest and tears pricked at your eyes.

“Y..you treat me different! This is the reason they started all these rumors.. t..this!” You motioned to your black kefta. “They probably think we’re engaged or having sex and I don’t like that!” His face stayed neutral, causing you to get so angry, until his thumb grazed your cheek, wiping at a tear that threatened to fall.

“That’s because you are different. They are simply Grisha. We? We are much more powerful than they could ever imagine. Besides, so what if their imaginations get the best of them, their ideas aren’t half bad.” He smiled softly and held your face in his palms, almost eye level with you. You took a shaky breath at the simple contact but it was the way his dark eyes peered into yours like he was craving you, like every little movement you made he was studying. It made you squirm and lose all the confidence you came storming into the room with earlier.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, they don’t deserve your tears.” He leaned in and kissed your lips, moving one of his hands that was on your cheek to snake down to the small of your back and pull you in against his warm body. You didn’t try to struggle, you didn’t even find an ounce of hate that you felt earlier just a couple seconds ago. You found yourself melting against him, kissing him back, loving the way his hands gripped you closer almost like he was starving.

His grip on you got tighter, his kisses got needier and rougher as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, letting out a soft groan before lifting you onto the war room table.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled against your lips. His hands slowly caressing down the sides of your body.

“Y..yes..” you wrapped your arms around his neck and he lunged forward once more, crushing his lips to yours almost in a frenzy to have you all to himself. His hands grabbing at whatever he could touch, nearly pressing you against the table to have his way with you. The two of you got lost in each other, his hands gripping the base of your throat and your waist while your hands tangled in his hair and his shoulder. You wrapped your legs around his waist and let out a soft groan, gripping a fist full of his hair.

A knock sounded at the door and he let out a frustrated groan “wait here..” his lips lingered on yours, kissing you once more, like he was unable to pull away from you

The second knock sounded impatient, the two of you broke off from the kiss breathless and the Darkling walked off to answer the door. You checked your appearance in the mirror, your lips were swollen and you had a dark blush on your cheeks, your hair a bit messy and clothes disheveled. The Darkling looked similar when he turned to glance back at you, his hair in messy swipes and his lips plump.

Once the Darkling spoke with one of his guards he closed the door and turned back to you.

“Apologies but I have business to attend to.. please meet me back at my quarters later tonight?” The question caught you off guard but you gave a small nod. He turned to leave but then rushed back over to you, seizing your face in his hands once more to place another kiss upon your lips before walking off to deal with the issues at hand. You blushed and looked down at the floor of the war room, curious on how you were supposed to leave without Grisha questioning you. You remembered the Darkling’s words

‘That’s because you are different. They are simply Grisha. We? We are much more powerful than they could ever imagine.’

His words made you feel special, gave you enough confidence to walk out of the war room and to the common room with everyone else.

Zoya caught sight of you and snickered to her friends, whispering and smirking silently to them. It annoyed you, but she could do whatever she liked. The Darkling chose you, you wear his colors, you get to feel his body pressed against you and the warmth of his lips. She doesn’t get any of that special treatment, she’s just like every other fan girl of the Darkling. Zoya was gorgeous though, you weren’t sure why the Darkling chose you over her, her perfect raven hair and beautiful face. The only thing that wasn’t pretty about her was her snobby attitude.

You held your chin high and walked off to get yourself a warm cup of tea and to settle in some corner of the library to catch up on studies while you waited for the Darkling. You got lost in the literature, learning more and more lore of the so called saints of Ravka, of the three different amplifiers and about Morozova himself. You finished your cup of tea and noticed the library begin to darken around you, the Inferni must not have lit the candles yet. So you closed the book and looked around, the ghost of a touch on your waist. You turned shocked as the Darkling took hold of your waist.

“Hello my love, are you ready to go to my quarters or where you planning on leading me on?” He questioned, noticing the book in your hand.

“I..I was just reading while you were busy, I was gonna come to your room I promise..” you blushed, squirming in his hold with his penetrating gaze. He smiled and lifted his hand to rub your cheek with his thumb.

“Let us get going. I will lead you to my room through the servant’s secret entrances. No one needs to know of our relationship yet, I can tell it makes you uncomfortable.” He led you to a bookshelf, pulling a book down and a door opened. He held the small of your back, walking you through a maze of catacombs under the little palace until he opened a door into another hallway. The door to your left was the Darkling’s chambers, his bedroom. The thought made your stomach flutter and you gripped onto his sleeve.

“Are you alright sweetheart?“ he unlocked the door with a key before walking into the dark room, leading you in with a gentle hold of your hand, giving your knuckles a gentle kiss. You nodded and blushed at his simply yet sweet gestures. His room was full of paperwork, his bed was huge, covered in dark silk sheets and furs, black curtains hanging from the bed frame as well as his windows. His room was beautiful, you wanted to examine it further but got distracted when the Darkling started to take off his coat.

“You can call me Aleksander or Kirigan. Or just simply Alek” you flushed as you watched him, he was unclasping the multiple rows of buttons on his kefta, slowly but surely. His long fingers working with the metal leisurely as he watched your every move. You looked down embarrassed, messing with the sleeves of your own kefta.

“Make yourself at home dear, soon enough you’re gonna be face down in my sheets crying my name.” He smiled and smoothed his hair from his face, pulling off his kefta and showing off his muscular pale arms. You drew in a breath at his vulgar words, causing your cheeks to heat. You slowly sat on his large bed, staring up at his ceiling of constellations. You heard him clear his throat, immediately training your gaze to him. He stood right in front of you, his hand lifting your jaw up to his eyes.

“How beautiful..” he stroked your jawline, leaning down to eye level with you before pulling you into a deep kiss. You shivered and wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping onto his hair once more. His warm arms enveloped you and helped lay you down into his large silken bed. He bit down on your bottom lip and a soft groan escaped you. His lips trailed down your jaw, to your collarbone and neck, causing your breath to hitch. His hand trailed up your thigh slowly, pulling at your kefta buttons.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled against your skin, making your body tingle.

“Y..yes I..I want to spend the night with you.. I want you to do these things with me..” you blushed, gripping onto his shirt. He smiled and sucked against your neck, turning the two of you around so you straddled his waist while he leaned up and kissed your lips, pulling your kefta off your shoulders. You pulled the kefta off your arms and reached for his shirt.

“Someone is needy huh?~” he smirked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling it back. You let out a soft moan and whimpered, his teeth sinking into where your collarbone met with your neck. You let out a soft yelp, leaning your head to the side to give him better access as he gripped your hair tighter.

“They’re right you know.. you belong with me.. you don’t belong anywhere else.. I want you to stay with me. Rule the second army with me.” You whimpered as his hands slid up the back of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

“A..are you proposing to me..?” You tilted your head, messing with the buttons on his linen shirt. He smiled softly as he watched your nervous habits, he took both your hands and pulled them up to kiss them.

“I would love it if you where my wife, we would be unstoppable together.. I’d treat you so well..” he kissed your finger tips before he pulled off his own shirt, his muscles littered with scars and wounds. You let out a soft gasp, grazing your finger tips along his scars.

“Don’t worry love, I’m alright..” he kissed and bit down into your neck again, leaving marks and nearly drawing blood. You whimpered and dug your nails into his skin, earning a hiss of a groan from him. He stared at you, rubbing your hips gently and he smiled.

“Can you do something for me love?~” you tilted your head confused. “I want you to pull off the rest of your clothes then get down on your knees and suck my dick.” You blushed at his request, but you loved the idea of it. You crawled out of bed and pulled off your bra, your pants and panties and then knelt down in front of him on the edge of the bed, his pants unzipped and his bulge visible from inside his underwear.

He pulled out his cock and let out a soft groan. You blushed and even let out gasp when you saw the sheer size of his length. You weren’t sure if it would even fit in your mouth, but you tried. You gripped the shaft with both of your hands, rubbing it slowly while you swirled your tongue on the tip, the taste of his salty precum already on your tongue. He let out a ragged breath and gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. You took your time, slowly sucking on the tip, enjoying the sight of him twitching beneath you like this. With him being such a man of power you wondered if he would beg for you to keep going.

He would tug at your hair when you went too slow, thrust into your mouth and shudder and whisper soft praises to you.

“You’re doing s..so good my love.. keep going..just like that..” you wanted to please him, to hear him praise you. You took more than just the tip into your mouth, sucking what you could with your hands still pumping his shaft. He let out a loud moan and thrusted deep into your throat, causing you to tear up and almost gag, freeing one of your hands to grab at his thigh. He chuckled, watching you squirm and struggle to take his cock in your mouth.

“That’s it, take it just like that, don’t cry darling.. you’ll make me feel guilty for face fucking you like this~” he dragged a hand down his face and moaned softly, gripping the back of your head. You looked up at him with tearful eyes, gripping onto his thighs as he stood. You looked confused before he grabbed your head and started thrusted into your mouth ruthlessly, causing your tears to spill over your cheeks and a muffled moan to fall from your lips. He didn’t spare you a second of breath, he kept thrusting his cock down your throat, greedy and hungry for his release. You closed your eyes and let him use your mouth, letting his grip on your head tighten as his thrusts lost their rhythm.

“Fuck.. I’m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours sweetheart..you’d like that won’t you? Since you’re such a slut for me?” His words made you clench around nothing, your gaze blurry from the tears as you struggled to make out the form of his figure. Right as his hips began to stutter you felt a gush of warm, thick fluid in your throat, he gripped your hair tight as he waited for you to swallow his cum. You swallowed it and gagged on his cock that was still in your throat. You squirmed and he soon pulled away from your mouth. You panted, out of breath and stuck your tongue out for him, so he could see that you swallowed it all.

“You did such a good job sweetheart, but you missed some~” he wiped his index and middle finger across your chin, picking up some drops of his cum that fell before shoving his fingers in your mouth, relishing in the way you licked them clean.

“How obedient, I think I should reward you now darling” You nodded and looked up at him, feeling him pull his fingers from your mouth and lift you up onto his bed. He laid you down with such tender care before grabbing your legs and spreading them, his head delving between your legs. He slowly licked and bit into your inner thighs, teasing the sensitive skin. You let out a whimper and grabbed onto the sheets tightly.

“N..Ngh…Alek…” you whined his name, causing a low growl to come from his throat. He grabbed at your thighs, digging his nails into them before he started to lick and suck at your clit, causing your body to arch off the bed and a cry to fall from your lips. His movements were rough, calculated. He knew exactly how to please your body till you were shaking and crying. You grabbed for his hair, tugging at it as he ate you out like a starving man. The feel of his mouth on your cunt sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. You let out a quiet moan and tried to muffle your noises into your hand, afraid the guards might overhear. Kirigan relished in the way you tasted, licking up your fluids and prodding his fingers into you gingerly, curling them in the spot that made you moan the loudest. He pulled away only for a moment and mumbled against your inner thigh.

“You’re mine.. you belong to me. If I want to call you my slut I’m allowed to, got it?” You whimpered at his words, earning a sharp bite to your inner thigh.

“Do you understand?” You nodded your head and panted softly.

“Y..Yes sir..” he smirked at your response, leaning back down to suck on your clit, shoving a third finger inside you. You squirmed beneath him as he stretched your pussy with his fingers, using the slick from your arousal to thrust his fingers in and out of you.

Between his fingers fucking into your g spot and his mouth sucking on your clit relentlessly you couldn’t hold on much longer. Your legs trembled as they threatened to squeeze around his head, his shadows quickly seizing your legs and tugging them apart while his hands stayed busy, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips as you neared your high. You couldn’t squirm or pull away, his shadows pinning you down in his dark silken sheets. An orgasm rocked through you, a silent moan shuddering through you, his actions not relenting in the slightest. You squirmed and trashed, begging quietly to him.

“P..Ple..Please too sen..sensitive..too much..” you mumbled, your eyes fogged over from the pleasure. Kirigan ignored you and your pleas, curling his fingers inside your contracting cunt as your arousal coated his fingers, dripping onto his bedding as he flicked his tongue over your clit, causing your body to jolt at every flick.

Your body convulsed at the intense pleasure his tongue was forcing from you, still abusing your sensitive clit and shoving his fingers into your cunt. He didn’t care if you were begging him to stop, he was going to force another orgasm out of you. He loved the way you screamed his name and scratched your nails into his upper back.

“P..Please Alek.. A..Alek..!~” you sobbed and formed crescents into his shoulders with your nails, causing a hiss of a moan to come from him. He cast his shadows once more to pin you to the bed, covering up your mouth to quiet your loud cries as he continued to tongue fuck your pussy. You couldn’t take it anymore, you felt your body tense and your cunt clenching around his fingers as another orgasm was ripped from you. Your legs trembled and shook as you panted softly, your attention vaguely focused on Kirigan.

He sat up slowly and licked his soaked fingers clean before he kicked off his pants and underwear, staring down at you with black seductive eyes. The haze from your intense orgasm fogged your thoughts, leaving you to stare up at him and take in all his features. His dark raven eyes and hair, his muscular, lean build, and the way his cock twitched with anticipation as he lined up with your cunt. You grabbed onto his shoulders tightly, giving him a slight nod.

He didn’t waste a second, he rubbed the tip of his cock in the slick of your arousal before he shoved inside of you to the hilt, a cry coming out of your lips. You squirmed beneath him as you cried, tears streaking down your cheeks. He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, kissing your neck and biting it as he whispered.

“Shh shh… take my cock just like that baby.. you’re doing so good..” he pulled out just to slam back inside of you, starting a slow lazy pace so you could acclimate. He kissed your lips, rubbing the fast pulse on your wrist to sooth you. The feeling of his cock buried so deep inside you made you squirm and whimper his name.

“A..Alek..” he smirked at the utter of his name, thrusting faster inside of you, moving his hand to wrap around your throat and squeeze. You gasped and grabbed at his forearm, letting out a strangled moan. He chuckled as he watched you struggle and squirm beneath him.

“You’re okay love, I’ve got you.” He used his free hand to grab your hip and slam into you at a brutal pace, still choking you and causing you to see stars. A sheen of sweat started to cover the both of you as lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders as he pressed you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna fill up your sweet pussy with my cum till you’re stuffed full. So everyone truly knows that you’re mine. You’re all mine..” his voice came as a deep rasp, speaking between his rough thrusts. The head of his cock kissed your cervix, you squirmed and clung to his shoulders.

“Please.. need you..” you panted in shallow breaths, trying to muffle your moans in his sheets. He gripped your jaw and forced you to face him.

“Look at me when I fuck you. Otherwise I’ll have to turn you over and fuck you face down.” You whined at his words, covering your face with your hands. He let out a growl and flipped you on your stomach, lifting your hips in the air before slamming back inside of you. He groaned, picking up his pace.

“You’ve been very bad.. not listening to me when I give you orders..” he slapped your ass, leaving a sting as he fucked you. He rubbed the soft plush of your ass before slapping it harder. You let out a cry, gripping onto his sheets before he shoved your head into the pillows.

“Lay down and take it like a good girl, you deserve this punishment for being so bad, make it up to me alright?~” you nodded your head, facedown in the pillows before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back, pulling you into a rough kiss. Your makeup streaked down your cheeks with your tears as he thrusted farther inside you, pressing against a spot that made your legs shake. You gasped against his lips, your body trembling as he slapped your ass again. You could feel your body building up to another orgasm and you could tell he was near his first.

“F..Fuck baby.. love the way you feel around my cock like this..” his thrusts lost their rhythm before a warm gush of liquid flooded inside of you. The feeling of being so full of his cum and the way he thrusted it deep inside your cunt made a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your orgasm left your body trembling and shaking, your mind going completely blank. You felt his warm hands running along your body, rubbing your sore and tired muscles while he kissed your neck.

“Common sweetheart, you can take a couple more rounds I know you can~” you gripped onto the sheets, shoving your hips against his, a growl coming from him.

“Yeah? You desperate for another round of being fucked senseless.” the roughness of his voice made your body melt. He snaked his hands around your body and pinched a nipple with his fingers, causing you to gasp. His thrusts started up again, rubbing against your g spot as his cock twitched inside of you.

“F..Fuck..” you mumbled into the sheets, gripping onto them before he pinched your nipple harder.

“Watch your mouth, otherwise I’ll have to punish you for being a bad girl.” You nodded your head slowly and panted softly as he continued to thrust his dick deep inside of your cunt, watching as your mixed arousal dripped from the two of you. He fucked you till he could assure that you wouldn’t be walking for weeks on end, sweat dripping from your bodies, bites and bruises scattered along your body, his cock turning soft inside you as you struggled to breath beneath his trembling figure. He pulled out, admiring the way you squirmed and twitched beneath him.

“You’re so good like this my love..” he used his fingers to make sure none of his come dripped from your pussy, shoving his fingers back inside your cunt.

“There we go.. make sure you’re nice and full..” you whimpered and grabbed at his forearm.

“P..Please no more.. I..I can’t..” you watched him smile and he pulled his fingers away, licking them clean before his other hand rubbed your cheek.

“Relax sweetheart, we’re done for the night, I’m going to run us a warm bath and I’ll hold you till you fall asleep.” You nodded and wrapped your weak arms around his neck before he carried you to the bathroom, resting you inside the tub with such care. As the warm water filled the tub you made room for Kirigan to sit behind you. He eased into the water and grabbed some soaps and a washcloth, rinsing your body off and scrubbing it gently with the cloth, rubbing his fingers into your scalp with soap suds. You melted against his warm chest, feeling your eyelids droop and your muscles relaxing from the intense night. He kissed your head and rubbed your sides.

“Get some rest, I’ve got you sweetie, just relax..” his deep voice was soothing, lulling you to a deep sleep against his chest, the beat of his heart a faint echo as the world around you drowned out into the background.

Ty for reading! If you want any more specific things with the Darkling he’s my current fixation :)))) lmk!

Btw this caption on Pinterest is so real

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 7

Grandpa piss, being a part of the Remote Viewers Division doesn't prevent you from being a deadbeat. KILL him Eva.

What were YOU doing at the devil's sacrement, King [insert name here] Sheran-Sharm!

I love women who are tortured for an eternity and then die in some way that will not kill them in a way that matters #signaliscore posts

Man haha I wonder if this might be saying something about Yugo (and Joris, but that goes without saying on this blog)

I have seen people criticize this moment, but let me be the devil's advocate: after seeing years of fans saying that Flopin is the boring twin, or that Eva has no backstory, them getting a problem-causing grandpa is literally so good.

And I think I understand why Flopin did this, since he says himself that he actually feels like the boring twin... I understand why he felt like going with this man, to learn about this guild, and where he comes from.

[starts hacking up blood] you know what other duo of demigods in this franchise had a twin who felt like they were living in the shadow of their sibling and his wonderful white fur—- [is shot by animal control]

I loooove comparing all the characters in this show, because it's genuinely a good way to approach Krosmoz, since Tot likes exporing the same themes (immortality/family) over, and over, and over, and over. And what I can say rn is: man, having normal parents makes jealousy-based plots much more tame. Atcham went in a "I want to be great like you, so I need to end you, you don't care about me like I care about you anyway" direction instead of a "I want to be great like you, so I'm gonna leave and work on myself, and then we can stand side by side someday"

I do think he is going to hurt his sister in some major way with this decision and in the end it will be a bitter, or bittersweet memory <3 I believe in the power of toxicity <3

To elaborate on the thing I said about titles, Astra is the ruling queen (to be precise, she is the daughter of the king of Bonta who was mentioned in seasons 1-2 and OVAs, who seems to have passed away); while her wife is either queen-consort, or a princess-consort.

However, Wakfu kingdoms may have worse, weirder rules than real life about inheritance.

The reason I am not getting my panties in a twist about the same-sex aspect of this (besides me supporting toxic royal yuri + being against homophobia or whatever) is that this is a magical universe, idk. they could adopt or get magically pregnant. It's literally a non-issue for me. UNLIKE PEOPLE NOT UNDERSTANDING THE CONSORT SYSTEM AND—-

Joris is present in all the kingdoms as Yugo's emotional support mediator/ambassador, except for Brakmar. I assume they simply do not let this fucking man into their palace, and rightfully so. He's literally a Bontarian narc. He'd use that chance to steal documents or some shit.

Btw I find it so funny how he keeps the same neutrally haunted look.

If a Bonatrian political leader goes for a week without wanting to start genocide against a people who isn't into the main 12 gods, they start getting the shakes from withdrawal.

I imagine living for hundreds of years and experiencing unimaginable suffering would make one pretty averse to being bossed around by some random guy who was born into wealth and has not known a second of grief in their life.

I feel it is important to point out: Joris was the one who made sure the meeting with Astra happened. He also felt this was important enough to try and organize meetings with other kings and queens. This is a dangerous situation.

As always, absolutely nobody listened. Nobody ever listens.

As I was saying, I imagine living for hundreds of years and experiencing un—-

I think the fact that Joris went with them has to say something about him. Yes, it is probably his sense of responsibility — he doesn't exactly want bad things to happen...

But also it explicitly puts a wedge between him and the Bontarian government. He values Yugo more.

[max1461]

Let me start a new post, regarding some discourse, so that we can avoid bothering OP and furthermore so that we can properly abstract away from (whatever turn out to be) the irrelevant points of the initial seed of discussion.

A woman flashed her boobs to some strangers in New York. Someone on twitter said this was sexual assault. I and other commenters contended it was no big deal. However, I added:

I do think there's a relevant distinction between simply being nude/topless/whatever in public, which I think should be regarded as perfectly socially acceptable, and flashing someone, which is kind of an inherently somewhat sexual performative act. I don't think that flashing in a context like this should probably be regarded as sexual assault, that seems a bit much. In general I think that people are (for the most part) sexual creatures, and so any free society is going to feature some amount of public display of sexuality, whatever form that takes, and there's nothing really wrong with that. It doesn't seem like any big deal to me that this girl flashed these people. But there definitely exist contexts where I think it's reasonable to consider flashing alone to be sexual assault or sexual harassment, and I don't think that should be elided. And I don't think it should be determined on crude grounds of gender or sex either; it's important to have some thoughtful and conceptually robust sense of when sexual acts, e.g. flashing people, are playful and harmless, and when they are in fact potentially threatening or boundary-violating.

Here the discussion split. In one thread, @sivavakkiyar said:

I agree with the nuance of total determination, but the applicability only makes sense now. There’s very good reason to suppose a man who took off his shirt on camera would not be considered ‘flashing’, even if he was flexing his pecs or whatever: the assumed sexual component, regardless of the intent of the woman involved, has to do with the inherent sexualization of…uh…female…presenting…nipples. We’re on the same page of ‘assault’ being ridiculous in this context, but even if you were to ask this woman ‘when you took off your shirt, you knew it was sexually suggestive, yes?’ and she said ‘yeah’, it wouldn’t really change the fundamental question—-I mean that’s obvious as a part of her joke, but—-the guy with pecs might equally be ‘yeah, I’m hot.’ You know?

And I replied:

Well yeah that's part of my point. There is totally a context in which a guy flexing his pecs at you, in some sufficiently aggressive or unwanted way, could be sexual harassment. But that doesn't mean that all men flexing in public is bad, or even all men flexing at someone in public is bad. The standards one takes up for this, whatever they are, should be gender neutral—which would unambiguously mean that women showing their bare chest in public would get vastly more accepted, not less.

In another thread, @wildgifthorses said:

It seems like this is just an area where it makes sense to have sex-asymmetric norms. Trying to make a workable sex-symmetric norm about this just leads to absurdity no matter what you do.

And added the following in the tags:

Here I would like to make my reply to wildgifthorses.

I think you have implicitly invoked, here, precisely the gender-neutral distinction which is relevant: reasonable knowledge that you are violating someone's boundaries and disregard for those boundaries in spite of the knowledge. Most men can be said to have a reasonable expectation that the average woman will be bothered by him flashing her his junk, and consider it a boundary violation. Most young women can reasonably expect that a crowd of passers-by will not feel violated by her flashing them her boobs. While there are sex- or gender-asymmetric facts about society being invoked in this sort of moral calculation, the underlying principle is fundamentally sex- and gender-symmetric. And why should it not be? I can think of plenty of contexts in which a man might be made very uncomfortable by a woman aggressively showing him her boobs, however common or not that happens to be, and in those scenarios I think it is very reasonable to say the woman is in the wrong.

We get absolutely nowhere good by making needlessly gendered distinctions in our abstract principles, as (in different ways) the last 10 years and the previous 5000 before that should make evident. I think until certain follies heretofore characteristic of human society are well behind us, we should probably err very far in the direction of absolute sex- and gender-insensitivity in our most abstract ethical principles, even if it runs us into trouble sometimes.

[friend-of-a-cat]

I've been debating on whether or not I may be agender (or something similar) for the past two weeks or so, and I'm legitimately so confused about the entire thing. I feel like it's breaking my brain, because, on one hand, it feels somewhat right, but on the other, I also don't give a shit if people see me as a woman? And I'm fine with being a woman I think, but I also think I just generally don't give a shit about gender, so I don't know if that just makes me gender indifferent or if it means something else.

Ultimately, I know that if I want to take up the agender label that's totally up to me if I feel it fits, but it's just... confusing. I don't know if my indifference to gender stems from something like my asexuality and sex aversion or my upbringing (my mum didn't necessarily raise my brother and I as 'genders', we just did whatever and dressed however and liked whatever) or a general dislike and rejection of gender stereotypes or something else. But also... I don't know. I feel like I also have a kind of blockage to the idea of me being agender from living my life as a woman up until this point. Like, I feel conditioned to it, if that makes sense. I feel biased. Though I also think, at least right now upon writing this, that if I could have picked a gender earlier in life, and I wasn't conditioned by society to be a one already, I would have picked none if I had've known that was an option? But I'd also just go along with anything. Like, if I were born male I think I would have just cruised by in life as a guy and not really cared (except for the fact that I also would be thinking the same things I'm thinking right now I guess lol). I've realised that I don't really feel connected to 'woman' as a gender (I mean, I relate to being a woman, but also not), or even really the concept of gender, because I think it's kind of stupid and pointless to me. I mean, in saying this, I am still attracted to guys romantically, and that has to do with gender, so...?? I don't know. Like, I know that you can still be a woman and not be feminine and shit, but like... I've never related to people of my gender. I mean, I like feminine things and I like masculine things and I like gender-neutral things but I also don't think we should label things as 'feminine' or 'masculine' or 'gender neutral' or whatever because who cares?? I mean, some people do. Lots of people do. People do feel a strong connection to gender, and I think that's great, and I'm happy it exists because it makes people happy, but like... I don't think I've ever thought to myself "I'm glad I'm a woman". But I'm also not NOT glad to be a woman. I just haven't really felt a connection or a 'pull' to any gender, really. I mean, kind of. But not really. I'm relatively indifferent to the concept as a whole. In saying this, I've related way more to guys throughout my life, and many of my friends have been guys because I've just... had more fun and related to them more? Though this wasn't entirely because they were guys - it's just because of the people they were. But I also don't exactly feel like I'm a guy, either. And I don't exactly feel like I relate to being nonbinary. The concept of calling myself trans also doesn't fit. Some days I do feel like it would be really cool to just... be able to shapeshift and try out different things just for fun and to see how I'd feel? Like try out a different sex and gender and appearance and see. I like the way I look, though. And I'm fine with using she/her because I don't know what other pronouns I'd use?? Like I've been referred to as such my whole life and I don't really care but also right now I'm kind of like ehhhh. But I don't know if I'd want to go by they/he/whatnot. I know there are tons of other options but ehhh. If my pronouns were 'none' I think that'd be cool. Maybe. Maybe it would be less complicated. Dude, I don't know. It's 2:28 a.m. and I'm confused and I don't know if this makes any sense. I also feel like I'm flipping between feeling like this and then also not. I think just needed to ramble a bit to some strangers on the internet to get my thoughts in order lol.

I guess another reason I made this post is... does anyone else feel the same way? I mean, obviously people do, but yeah. I also know a lot of ace people (and aros, as well) experience a kind of disconnect with gender as a whole or their body - not that I personally feel disconnected from mine, per se (though if I didn't have fucking boobs and a reproductive system that'd be swell, but it also just is what it is, you know? I don't really see that as dysphoria, it's more like they're annoying and useless to me lol). I don't know if this is that - a disconnect from gender due to my asexuality. Like... for the people who do 'feel' gender... how? How do you 'feel' it? What is it meant to 'feel' like? I think I might need some helping sorting out my thoughts. Or not. I don't know.

Anyway, I think, first and foremost before any label, I'm just me, and that's okay. Even though I love that we have more terms to express ourselves in such ways now, it's still limiting. I'm ace and I love that the term exists because it's felt empowering to me (also pretty lonely, too, but... you know). Like... I'm ace. I'm ace and it feels so good to say it. Demiromantic fits me the best in that department at the moment, too. I don't know if agender fits me or not yet. This has been stewing for two weeks though and I don't know what exactly set me on this line of thought. I've decided I'm going to sit on it for a while and think - and by 'sit and think' I really mean probably forget about it because gender is something I rarely think about in any context (besides when I'm angry at people for being discriminatory). Though, the reason why I didn't realise I was ace until a few years ago when I discovered what it is is because I never thought about sexual attraction because... I never felt it, so... I could use that logic here, too. But it's sadly not that simple to me right now lol. It's hard to express stuff like this. As in, stuff you DON'T feel. I know it doesn't have to be hard, but I'm finding it hard lol, and I don't really know how to go about it. And again, I keep changing my mind on my thoughts and feelings because the whole prospect is daunting to me.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED Talk. As per usual, thoughts and discussions are welcome. I kind of feel like I'm oversharing my life, so I'm so sorry lol. Also this is a long post lmao. But it was kind of nice to put this into words.

It's also kind of funny that this crisis is happening in pride month. I fully came to terms with the fact I was ace last pride month and actually told people then lmao (I did know a year or two earlier but didn't tell anyone about it besides my mum briefly and vaguely lol). Anyway, happy pride?? Lol.

[kjack89]

Back to Where We Started (Chapter 1/?)

For @theworldfallsup for my 10 year/4k follower anniversary, who requested a Mr. & Mrs. Smith-type AU.

It's gotten long, so I'm splitting it into multiple chapters, largely to force myself to actually finish it.

E/R, modern AU. CW: Mentioned character death, gun violence, everything you'd expect from an action movie AU.

Cosette offered the two men sitting on the couch in her office a tight smile. “I’m sorry for being late,” she said as she sat down. “My last session ran over.”

“It’s fine,” the blond man sitting on the left assured her with a faint accent she couldn’t quite place.

She nodded, giving them both a quick once-over as she pulled her pad of paper close to her. For as long as she’d been doing this, it would never not surprise her how much she could learn about a couple before they even got into whatever issue had ostensibly brought them in for couple’s therapy. In the case of the two men sitting in front of her, the tension between them was palpable, mostly based on the fact that they were sitting at opposite ends of the couch rather than directly next to her. And based on the way his knee was bouncing at about ninety miles an hour, the darker-haired man was particularly unconvinced that this was going to work.

“So,” she said, “my name is Cosette Fauchelevent. Which one of you is Enjolras?” The blond raised his hand and she smiled at him before switching her gaze to the brunet. “And you must be Grantaire.”

“I assume these incredible deductive reasoning skills explain the exorbitant price we’re paying for this,” Grantaire said in lieu of an answer.

Cosette didn’t so much as blink. “Then let’s get right into it to justify the cost,” she said pleasantly. “What’s wrong with your marriage?”

Both Enjolras and Grantaire stared at her. “Who said something was wrong with it?” Enjolras asked, his brow furrowed.

“Mostly the fact that you’re sitting here,” Cosette said, still pleasant. “But if you’d rather, we can back up a little. How long have you been married?”

“Three years,” Grantaire said.

Cosette nodded. “And how often do you have sex?” This time, she didn’t wait for either of them to protest. “Sex is a cause or symptom of larger issues more often than you might think, so better to get it out in the open.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “Sex isn’t really our problem,” he muttered, the tips of his ears burning red, as Grantaire crossed and recrossed his legs, studiously avoiding looking at him.

Cosette just nodded again, scribbling a note on her pad of paper. “On a scale of one to ten, how satisfied would you each say you are with your sex life?”

For the first time all session, Enjolras and Grantaire glanced at each other. “Eight,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire looked back at Cosette.

“Wait, is ten the best or is one the best? Like is ten mind-blowing sex every day, and one is bad missionary once every six months, or—?”

“Just answer instinctively,” Cosette said.

Grantaire jerked a nod, looking back at Enjolras. “Ok. Ready?”

“Ready,” Enjolras said.

They both looked at Cosette and said in perfect unison, “Eight.”

Cosette jotted down another note. “And how often do you say ‘I love you’?”

The question was met with a stunned sort of silence. Then, Enjolras leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Yeah, I’m lost,” Grantaire added quickly. “Is this a one to ten thing?”

“It’s really not,” Cosette said, circling something in her notes. “But how about I make this easier: do you love each other?”

Again, silence.

Cosette let it linger for as long as she personally felt comfortable with before clearing her throat. “Maybe we should back up even further,” she said, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourselves, like what you do for a living? Sometimes that can be a sore spot between couples.”

Enjolras looked visibly relieved at the change in subjects. “Oh, well, I’m involved in local politics—”

Grantaire snorted derisively. “I think she meant, like, your job.” He glanced at Cosette. “Which is a sore spot, because he doesn’t have one.”

A muscle worked in Enjolras’s cheek. “We’re very fortunate to not need a second income, which allows me to focus on things that matter,” he said, something warning in his tone. “And I don’t know that I’d consider photography a real job, anyway.”

“Is that what you do?” Cosette asked Grantaire, ignoring the murderous look he had just shot Enjolras. “Photography?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said gruffly. “I used to be a wildlife photographer. Traveled all over: Sub-Saharan Africa, the Middle East, the Korean Peninsula, Siberia—”

Cosette cocked her head. “I wouldn’t think there’d be a lot of wildlife in Siberia,” she remarked.

Something shifted in Grantaire’s expression. “You’d be surprised,” he said before clearing his throat. “Anyway, now I mostly do, like, weddings, senior portraits, stuff like that.”

“I’m sensing that you’re not particularly enthusiastic about the type of photography you’re currently doing.”

Grantaire jerked a shrug. “It’s fine. It’s steady. It’s – well, I mean, it doesn’t quite compare to traveling the world, but…”

He trailed off and Enjolras shifted impatiently in his seat. “But we both agreed that we can do a lot of good right here in this community, right, honey?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart,” Grantaire said, saccharine sweet. “Of course, if it weren’t for traveling, we never would have met, so…”

“Oh, where did the two of you meet?” Cosette asked.

“East Africa,” Enjolras and Grantaire said, again in unison.

Cosette nodded. “Were you on vacation?”

“Something like that.”

Three Years Ago

Enjolras wasn’t naïve about what he looked like, so the fact that he managed to slip unnoticed through the crowded market in Bujumbura spoke to how much effort he’d put into learning how to blend in. It was a necessary survival skill, after all, given his line of work.

It was also a skill put to the test when he overheard a snippet of conversation between two men in police uniforms patrolling the outskirts of the market, and more specifically, the name General Lamarque. Enjolras’s step slowed, and he lingered longer than was wise to overhear what they were saying next, hopeful that it would be about the continued rumblings of revolution that Lamarque was stirring in the former capital city.

Instead, what he heard next made his blood run cold.

“Le Général Lamarque est mort.”

And then: “Assassinat.”

Enjolras was immediately aware that these two were not the only police in the market, and that the police he saw were much more heavily armed than usual. And scanning the crowd as if looking for someone.

He backed away quickly, his heart pounding in his chest as he rapidly thought through every exit strategy he had developed over the past few weeks living in Burundi. But he hadn’t thought that this would happen, at least not this early on, so the vast majority of them wouldn’t work, especially if the police were looking for anyone they could reasonably accuse of being involved.

Like anyone foreign, and traveling alone.

He couldn’t do anything about the former, but he could try to figure something out for the latter.

Plan decided on, he turned on heel and strode back in the direction of city centre and the few hotels in the area, hoping he could find someone friendly. It wasn’t exactly a tourist-heavy part of the world, but there were bound to be a few NGO workers who wouldn’t have been evacuated yet.

He managed to make it inside a hotel lobby before he was stopped by two men in paramilitary uniforms who spoke to him in rapid French. Enjolras only half-listened, looking over their shoulders into the bar he could just see, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he locked eyes with a dark-haired man sitting by himself at the bar.

Not that Enjolras particularly cared at the moment, but the man wasn’t much to look at, though judging by the way his shirt tightened across his chest as he moved, he was well-muscled, and that mattered far more given everything. “Cet homme là,” he said, interrupting the man speaking. “C’est mon ami.”

He didn’t wait to hear what they said, just brushing past them and making a beeline for the man in the bar, who smiled when he approached. “I was wondering when you’d be back,” he said, with a kind of warm familiarity that Enjolras wouldn’t have appreciated under any other circumstance. “I was beginning to think I was going to spend the evening drinking by myself.”

“You’re traveling together?” one of the military officials asked sharply.

“Of course,” the man said, as if it was obvious, and Enjolras thanked whatever higher power might exist that he was rolling with it. “Do you need to see our visas, or…?”

A sudden burst of gunfire came from the street, and the officials exchanged glances. “You should get to your embassy,” one said shortly before they both hurried outside, leaving Enjolras alone with the man who just might have saved his life, or at the very least, kept him out of a Burundi prison cell. 

“I hope you don’t think that was, uh, forward of me,” the man said, almost a little sheepishly. “Only the bartender just told me that someone was assassinated and the military police are looking for anyone traveling alone, and then I saw you, and, well, you looked a little desperate, so I just figured—”

“You figured correctly,” Enjolras said, cutting off the man’s ramble. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of more gunfire. “And while I thank you for your assistance, we should get out of here.”

The man nodded and turned back to the bar, grabbing whatever he’d been drinking it and downing it in a single gulp. “To the embassy?” he asked. Enjolras hesitated, because of course he had absolutely no way of explaining that going to any embassy was as dangerous for him as staying put, but thankfully, the man then offered, “Or I have a connection that was going to take me to Kenya tomorrow anyway, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind an extra passenger.”

“Are you sure?” Enjolras asked, surprised.

The man shrugged. “He owes me a favor,” he said breezily. “Or ten.” He looked at Enjolras expectantly. “So what do you say?”

Enjolras shrugged as well. “It’s as good a plan as any,” he said, aiming to match the man’s breezy tone.

The man laughed. “Not exactly brimming with enthusiasm, but I’ll take it.” He held his hand out for Enjolras to shake. “My name is Grantaire.”

“Enjolras,” Enjolras said, shaking his hand, but before he could say anything more, there was the sound of a distant explosion. “How would your connection feel about moving our trip up to today?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Grantaire said. “I need to grab my bag from upstairs. Do you…?”

“No,” Enjolras said, thinking of his clothes, forged passport and array of weaponry currently stashed in what had been General Lamarque’s camp outside the city. “No, I never travel with anything I can’t afford to leave behind.”

Grantaire smiled at him. “Well,” he said, “just as long as that doesn’t include me.”

Enjolras laughed as well. “Don’t worry,” he said, and it was only after Grantaire had left for his hotel room that Enjolras added, “it absolutely does.”

— — — — —

Three nights later, Enjolras slipped out from under Grantaire’s arm still draped across his waist and held his breath when the other man shifted in his sleep. But Grantaire didn’t stir and Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief before standing and heading over to his bag to grab his satellite phone. He glanced at Grantaire before stepping out onto the balcony, closing the door softly behind him.

Then he called Combeferre.

“Thank God you’re alive,” Combeferre said by way of greeting, and Enjolras half-smiled as he leaned down to rest his elbows on the balcony railing.

“Alive, and made it to Nairobi,” he reported. “Wish I could say the same about Lamarque.” 

Combeferre sighed. “I know. It’s a tough loss.”

“Tough?” Enjolras repeated. “It’s going to set back progress in the region by at least a decade.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve got bigger problems than that,” Combeferre said, a little grimly.

“Like what?”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “The Burundi government evidently recovered some of your personal effects, and after connecting your most recent alias to some of your other ones, well…let’s just say you’re being blamed for the assassination. Meaning you’re also now on every terrorist watchlist in the world.” Enjolras had expected as much, not that it made it easier to hear. “Speaking of which, how did you make it all the way to Kenya on your own?”

Enjolras glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Grantaire was still sleeping. “I’m not on my own.”

“You – what?”

This was the part of the conversation that Enjolras had been dreading most. “I met someone,” he said, and when Combeferre was silent, he added, “His name is Grantaire. He’s an American, a wildlife photographer, and he used his connections to get us both out of there.”

“And then you immediately abandoned him in Nairobi, right?” Combeferre asked, and Enjolras could just picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

Enjolras traced a finger along the balcony railing as he hedged, “Define abandoned.”

“Enjolras.”

“He’s very nice,” Enjolras assured him. “And he thinks he just saved my life.”

“Courfeyrac and I wouldn’t have let—”

“You know that, and I know that, but…”

“But what?” Combeferre demanded, exasperated. “Enjolras, you can’t just sleep with a random American you met in a war zone without us thoroughly vetting him!”

Enjolras made a face. “Tell that to Courfeyrac,” he muttered.

He could practically hear Combeferre roll his eyes. “Courfeyrac doesn’t exactly have the same international profile that you do. And this guy could be CIA, he could be INTERPOL—”

“Or he could be my ticket out of here.”

Combeferre was silent for a moment before asking warily, “What do you mean?”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “I mean, it’ll be, what, three to five years before the heat dies down enough that I can get back to work, right?”

“At least.”

Enjolras nodded. “So I’ll spend the next three to five years with Grantaire,” he said, looking over his shoulder again before telling Combeferre, “He asked me to marry him.”

“He – what?” Combeferre said weakly. “It’s been three days!”

That had more or less been Enjolras’s reaction, though he at least had the benefit of seeing how amazing the sex was before Grantaire asked him the world’s dumbest question. But while Enjolras had demurred at the time, he had also been thinking about it. And now he needed Combeferre on his side. “What can I say, almost dying together has a tendency to accelerate the timeline.”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre said, with the kind of patience a parent used on a misbehaving child, “you can’t marry him.”

Enjolras shrugged. “After a thorough background check, I don’t see why not—”

“Because you are wanted by INTERPOL, the FBI, the CIA, Mossad, Hezbollah, the Russian SVR, NYPD, LAPD, and the Cook County Assessor’s Office for $5,000 in back owed property taxes!” 

Combeferre practically shouted the last bit, and Enjolras cocked his head. “I’m pretty sure Courfeyrac added that last one to my file as a joke,” he said mildly, “seeing as how it’s the plot of the Blues Brothers.”

 “That’s not the point—”

“No, the point is, I need to lie low until the heat from any and all of those dies down,” Enjolras said, with conviction. “And the sane thing to do is to flee to a non-extradition island somewhere and wait it out.”

“Exactly, the sane thing—”

“And the predictable thing.” Combeferre fell silent and Enjolras paused before asking, “Can you honestly tell me that you think the CIA is going to come looking for me in a suburb in middle America? Let alone Mossad, or the SVR?”

Combeferre sighed, and Enjolras knew he had already won. “I think we can safely assume that the CIA is going to come looking for you wherever they pick up your trail.”

“Then we’ll do whatever we can to make sure I don’t leave one.” Enjolras half-smiled. “Come on, you have to admit, of all the asinine plans we’ve made, this one actually might work.”

“Maybe.” It was Combeferre’s turn to pause, and Enjolras knew he was readying his most convincing argument. “But what happens to Grantaire after three to five years?” Enjolras was silent, and Combeferre sighed again. “I have always supported you, and I’m not going to stop now, but this is a mistake.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t think it is. Combeferre, you know me. You know that I’m not…sentimental. But Grantaire…” He trailed off and shook his head again. “He’s different. No questions, no demands, it’s like he already knows the truth about me and doesn’t care.”

“Then it’s even more of a mistake,” Combeferre said heavily.

“Maybe,” Enjolras echoed. “But the worst that can happen could happen anywhere, with anyone. So why not?”

Combeferre was silent for so long that Enjolras almost checked to make sure the call didn’t drop. Then, reluctantly, he said, “I’ll talk to Courfeyrac. We’ll get started on the arrangements. Let me know when you’re back stateside.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras said softly. He hung up and turned the phone over in his hands, removing the SIM card with practiced fingers before casually dropping the phone off of the balcony.

And just in time, as moments later, Grantaire stepped out onto the balcony, yawning widely. “What are you doing up?” he asked sleepily, wrapping his arms around Enjolras waist from behind and dropping a kiss onto his bare shoulder.

Enjolras turned to face him. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I was thinking about what you asked me.”

Hesitation flickered across Grantaire’s expression. “I know it’s only been a few days—”

“Yes.”

Grantaire blinked. “Yes – yes what?”

Enjolras smiled. “Yes, I will marry you.”

A grin spread slowly across Grantaire’s face. “Seriously?” he breathed, and when Enjolras nodded, he let out a whoop before pulling Enjolras close and kissing him. “You’re not going to regret this, I promise.”

“I know,” Enjolras told him, closing his eyes as Grantaire pulled him in again.

He’d had worse covers, after all.

And how bad could three to five years of marriage be?

>>Read Part 2>>

[eunoiaastralwings]

Heya Lovie , hope you're doing well😁

I'm obsessed with the idea that Maeglin didn't actually love Idril romantically and it was a rumour made to villainize him to cover up the fact her husband killed him ... I did see a post on it hence why I'm obsessed with it but your thoughts on that?

Second- Maeglin request please if you don't mind 😅 but my idea is a human comes to Gondolin for..whatever reason maybe a black Smith in training? And hence forth maeglin is assigned their mentor. But just said human trying to hide their feelings because insecurity is massive thanks to them gorgeous elves and their annoyingly good looks. I am liking the idea they're a male , even more reason to hide their feelings cause humans don't really accept gay relationships , specially in those times, so safe to assume that elves don't either (but they do thanks to love binds by the soul and not the body of said soul) so just fluff and some young love panic . I completely understand if you don't want to do the whole gay thing, gender neutral is perfect aswell. Take care 💕

Love Through Souls

featuring maeglin x male reader

fandom tolkien- the silmarillion

warnings ooc, shitty writing. . . and what not

a/n am sorry. . .

You carefully tried to do as Maeglin had instructed you - feeling a little nervous with every move. 

You hoped you weren’t too obvious on how you continuously looked at him.

It was because you couldn’t help yourself - from gazing at the tall and dark haired ellon in front of you.

He was assigned as your mentor the moment you show interest in smith work.

It was rather kind of king Turgon to take in your poor shivering human male soul from unkind lands. 

It was common knowledge that the wise king did let almost anyone into his hidden kingdom - to say you were lucky were an understatement.

“Careful!”

Maeglin ordered - keeping you away from the sparks that soared from the fire.

Your heart couldn’t help the involuntary leap it had done when he had put himself in between the fire and yourself - pulling you beside him as it soared.

Maeglin never ceased to mesmerize you everyday with skills and abilities as a smith.

It was rather both inspiring as well as mesmerizing - it had only made you fall deeper for him.

But sadly you knew the case - not only were you a human, but a male. . . besides the young prince had already set his sights on the princess of Gondolin.

She was rather beautiful with her long golden-like hair that seemed to sparkle and tint like of a jewel - and her eyes of deep blue could draw anyone in.

Not only herself - but every elleth and ellon present in your sights only made you question deeper about yourself.

You felt fat and frumpy in the sights of such beauty that left your eyes wide in wonder.

But out of all elves present - especially among the males of course - the only one that truly caught your attention had been Maeglin.

WIth his broody and silent nature - with sharp stares and careful gazes he managed to capture you in at once without taking too long.

You had not meant to fall for the ellon - you had known how humans alone in your village had felt about same sex couples.

Therefore - you could not even begin to think on how elves would react towards it.

So you kept it down - ignoring the hurt that caged your heart every time you spotted Maeglin’s eyes linger on Princess Idril.

But even as you did - everything he said or did, like for example now how he pulled you behind him to protect yourself from the fire - the more you fell and the harder it was for you to suppress your feelings towards him.

It was getting harder and harder day by day to be around him as he mentored you.

Therefore finally you had decided to let it go - for the sake of further humiliation and the ache of your heart you let go of your passion of smithing.

So Maeglin no longer needed to mentor you - and you no longer needed to face him every day.

Your hands delicately brushed over the small metal tag chain necklace you made - it had both your own name and Maeglin’s name carved on it.

It was something you made yourself - sure as you were still learning there were a few dents and misshapes but it was still worth it for you.

You had made it when Maeglin was away with king Turgon in his gardens and was not able to mentor you one day.

While it may never happen - at least you were free to dream about it right? 

Then suddenly your door slammed open - making you jump from the edge of the bed where you were sitting. You instantly hid the chain necklace.

If looks could kill you would be 10 feet under the ground right now - because of how Maeglin glared as he walked over to you.

He reached within milliseconds because of his long strides and you did not even have time to react.

“You could have knocked…”

You said quietly.

“I rather not have - considering how my student failed to attend his class today.”

Maeglin’s deep voice rumbled - making you shiver.

“I had informed the king I will no longer be attending smithwork.”

You said - looking at your feet.

“Yes - I’m aware you informed my ever wise uncle but you did not inform me - nor did you give him my uncle a valid reasoning - therefore I do not approve of you quitting!” 

Maeglin said.

It was the first time you had seen Maeglin react like so - usually he was quiet and reserved but this was like he was speaking before thinking like he usually does.

It means you had struck hard to make Maeglin mad enough to behave like so.

“I apologize for not coming to you. . .” 

You offered a straight heartfelt apology - keeping the chain necklace clasped in your hands and hidden behind you.

Maeglin looked surprised - even a soft red tinge appeared suddenly on his cheeks as he blinked and cleared his throat, looking both shameful and awkward.

“. . .Why have you quit?”

He asked instead - from the sound of his tone, it was easy to tell he had wondered about it too many times and had been trying to hide it. 

But emotions had been something Maeglin always struggled with - either he wouldn’t come to terms with something, or other times he never understood what they meant.

“I do. . . - I do not have the passion for it, no more. . .”

You sighed with a gulp - your hands clasping tighter around the necklace.

“I do not believe that for a second!”

Maeglin declared - making you shocked for a moment.

You only frowned at him.

Then Maeglin tried to peek behind you.

“What is it you hold behind you?”

Your eyes widened and your clasped the necklace tighter.

“Nothing of which concerns the matter.”

You tried to put out formally - then stepped backwards as Maeglin took a step towards you.

Maeglin narrowed his eyes - staring into your eyes as if debating on something in this mind.

This seemed to be the Maeglin you knew  - the one who was careful and calculated, who needed time to formulate his thoughts into words as he stared at the person he wished to speak with. 

Others found it uncomfortable - you did too at first - but later realized it was how he was able to function.

This time however - he swiftly reached behind you.

With this elvish swiftness you didn’t even have the time to react as he quickly grabbed the chain necklace off your hands and dangled it above your head reading engraving on it.

You gasped trying to reach for it - but Maeglin kept it away from your grasp.

“What is this?”

He asked incredulously.

Your heart couldn’t but beat painfully fast.

You managed to grab it back and turned away from him - he probably felt so disgusted.

Tears had pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Nothing!”

“Let me see. . .”

Maeglin offered - feeling awkward and guilty at the sight of your tears.

“No - you should leave. . .”

You whimpered.

Maeglin gulped.

“Please. . .Y/N - I did not mean to offend you. . .It does-”

“It does not matter, please leave. . .”

You said starting to cry, your heart aching.

Maeglin fisted and unfisted his hands - before he harshly turned away slammed your door shut behind him as you cried.

— — — 

It has been a week since the incident. You had been in the gardens - randomly walking thinking of what to do with your life since you already gave up your passion for smithing.

Then sooner or later become the gossip in the hidden city.

You had thought of leaving - but you knew yourself walking outside these borders was a death sentence in a literal format.

You sat near the fountain leaning against it.

It was no use crying - you already did that a few times, no point in wasting another round of tears that can’t help anything.

You leaned back further - when you suddenly felt something odd against your head.

You turned your head to see a chain necklace hanging off the edge of the fountain.

You frowned and took it in your hands softly.

There was a centre stone - pendent necklace - and it had been your birthstone.

Your frown only deepened - then you turned it as you felt something engraved in the back of it in Sindarin. 

You couldn’t understand it - but you obviously made out your name and Maeglin’s, making your eyes widen.

“From me to you, Y/N. Yours, Maeglin. . .”

Suddenly - you heard his name, making your head snap up at him.

Your eyes were still wide and unbelieving as Maeglin awkwardly shifting from one foot to another.

“May I sit?” 

He asked - when you didn’t respond.

You gulped and nodded.

Maeglin sat down close to you - sending you a disapproving gaze and looked so much like King Turgon’s scowl as you tried to scoot away. 

You sighed staying put.

Either of you spoke for a long time - simply staring ahead.

“You know. . .it is frowned upon. . .and perhaps even wrong. . .”

You bit your lip saying it.

“What is?”

Maeglin frowned.

“Two males. . .in a relationship. . .”

You struggled to stay.

Maeglin didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I have given it thought and I do not see any wrong in us. . .”

He tried to say.

But you shook your head.

“Mae. . .It is frowned upon. They will not accept it. We will be disowned, mocked and gossip.”

You softly said.

“Why do you think they will not accept? Humans do not accept this form of relationship?”

Maeglin frowned - some bit of fury in him rising.

“No. I presume the same for elves.”

You frowned.

“Sure. . .It may not be common and I have not seen another couple such as this. . . but Gondolin will accept us. . .”

Maeglin promised you.

“How?”

You frowned deeper.

“Because elves do not care for what body your lover is, meleth. . .we love and cherish through souls. . .that is love. . .and that is what my mother has taught me. . .”

He said quietly and softly - still having a hard time talking about his mother.

You blinked, sighing. You were scared that you will not lie about.

“Are you sure. . .they will not. . .”

You struggled to say the words.

“Trust me. . .”

Maeglin whispered and you nodded.

Then he leaned forward - pressing his lips against your lips calming the anxiety in your heart and soul. . .

Maeglin was right. . . this was love through the souls. . .

Taglist form

tara's taglist: @wandererindreams @fizzyxcustard @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @floraroselaughter @mismaeve @bunson-burner

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

[catstarkapologist]

Rating ships that I've come across that include Ned or Cat (with comments):

Disclaimer: No one gets a 10/10 because that's for Nedcat and Nedcat only.

Ned/Daenerys: 4/10 if we're talking about show Dany. Not a great ship but overall not one of the worst ones in this list. Their personalities don't much that well and he's much older than her. 1/10 if we're talking about book Dany. She was 13.

Ned/Cercei: 8/10 To be honest I've been criticising this ship for a long time but I finally get the appeal. They had that chemistry. He'd be good for her, she'd be bad for him but oh well

Ned/Robert: 9/10 Canon. I mean... they wouldn't work in the long run but they do have that something between them. Robert's literally in love with Ned.

Ned/Rhaenyra: 5/10 If we're gonna ship Ned with a Targaryen I prefer it be her over Dany but it still doesn't work. He'd be better than Daemon though. (Daemon they will never make me like you)

Ned/Ashara: 9/10 I'm not sure if I have shared my opinion on them before but I think they're a very cute couple. Ned's relationship with Ashara is like the sweet first love. (Well maybe not so sweet because of the way it had to end but you get what I'm talking about.)

Ned/Elia Martel: 5/10? I'm a bit neutral about this I don't have many thoughts.

Ned/Sansa: -1000/10 people are disgusting.

Cat/Jaime: 5/10 They don't work ofc but I have read some hate sex fics with them that have been... interesting.

Cat/Roose Bolton: 6/10 Y'know what I hate him but every time I come across this tag I am actually a bit intrigued. A bad ship objectively but it's fun to think about.

Cat/Tywin: 4/10 There's a pattern of shipping Cat with horrible people. It doesn't make much sense but it's not ment to make sense so whatever. Random ships like that are actually kind of fun. The fact that they're on enemy sides adds some interest to it. He's much older than her though.

Cat/Robert: 2/10 It just doesn't feel right. If we're going to ship Robert with anyone it's going to be Ned. Plus the one fic that I've actually seen with them Robert was basically just taking advantage of her.

Cat/Brandon: 7/10 Almost canon lol. It's not bad but I mostly like reading about them in Nedcat fics where they were a thing before Ned and Cat got together. Brandon's usually either an asshole or has just died in those fics and it makes things more interesting for Nedcat.

Cat/Cercei: 8/10 Lesbians. I respect it. I love watching Lena Headey and Michelle Fairley together in interviews so it makes me feel like their characters also have chemistry even though they hardly interact.

Cat/Littlefinger: 2/10 I don't think I need to say much on this.

And a little bonus:

Ned/Cat/Ashara: 9/10 I love Ned/Cat, I like Ned/Ashara, what could go wrong?

[squirrelno2]

Assuming that you play Swtor... Who are your main 8 Ocs and what's your favorite class/romance?

muahahaha so you have in fact met at least one of them via my sideblog, @relevant-url-incoming, because you asked about Kit there, but I always welcome the chance to ramble/infodump/annoy the shit out of people who are following me for not-even-star-wars-adjacent things SO:

(disclaimer: this may get spoilery. it's all very out of context spoilers, but if anyone reading this cares about swtor spoilers. be warned.)

Ven is a name some people following me here will remember, specifically as a four year old Nautolan who adopts Dogma, the clone. She also, in the grand scheme of my silly little swtor nonsense, is a time traveller who grows up to fuck shit up in the distant past. As one does. She's my trooper and my Alliance Commander and my precious baby girl mary sue beloved. She's also committed a few war crimes in her youth but what is a war crime to the star wars galaxy anyway? nobody knows. it's fine.

Nalyan is her brother, newly introduced in the same fic series i allude to above, and my smuggler. He is... grumpy. and an asshole. and also overall much more likely to save an enemy than most of my ocs, but that always surprises people due to the grumpiness. I ship him very hard with Corso and Risha who I do not ship with each other, which makes for a delightful dynamic in my head. sometimes besties just have sex with the same man it's whatever.

Kitiver is my Jedi Knight whose anxiety made him fall big-time, and he is full of self-loathing and self-doubt. He's overall kind of neutral in how the game sets up morality but when I write him it's the inwardly directed anger and the way that splashes out onto others that keeps him dark, even though all he wants is to be a good person. He doesn't really believe he's capable of that, anymore. oops.

Kaojacol is my Consular who went from a kind of coldhearted closed off person to the biggest softie who just wants to be a good friend and wife and mom. She's... a good friend? to be fair to her the wife and mom thing kind of got out of control with the whole zakuul thing. Sorry Felix and also the kid I made up for them.

Exchei is my Sith Inquisitor and she's so nice, for someone who'll shock you with Force lightning if you piss her off. Her backstory is always kind of fresh in her mind, and she really really wants to reform the Empire and stop slavery. also if you give her something nice and expensive and don't betray her she'll love you forever, which is how Andronikos sold her on the whole romance thing when she still wasn't sure if she could trust him.

Ri'gastio is a fucking asshole and also my bounty hunter. He's just. He's the guy who does every mean thing and kills everyone he can kill and makes everyone pay for everything he does for them because he figures if the world screwed him over there's no point in him being nice. He might as well do the same. I want to smack him so badly.

Tavansa is my Sith Warrior, she is my pathetic wet cat lesbian who just wants Vette to love her in spite of her many murderous tendencies and the fact that she's kind of unbearable to be around. A real attack dog kind of person, if an attack dog was also always calculating how people might perceive her behaviour so she can make sure the people (Vette) she cares about see her in the best light possible.

Sarrant is my Agent and he's... very hard to explain honestly? Like he starts out super loyal and that gets burned to hell and back, and he falls for fucking Kaliyo of all people even though he likes to let people live and help them out and generally enjoys being nice, and he also will just cut a bitch for looking at him wrong - man has issues. He's made lighter choices than his sister Tavansa but he is equally fucked.

As for my favourite class and romance uhhhh... story-wise it probably is Jedi Knight because that shit is juicy, though i think in terms of juiciness Agent is also up there. But if we're talking straight-up soft spots I really like the trooper storyline. I like that I got to force Ven to solve the trolley problem like twenty times. That was great. She names her kid after Jaxo, that's how bad that hurt her.

I also really like romancing Jorgan, possibly also because of Ven, but especially for Timothy Omundson's little voice crack when you reunite with him. Like damn. how can i resist that. I haven't romanced Elara in-game yet but the version of her that lives in my head and is married to Ven and Jorgan is great. kind of terrified to find out if the actual romance lives up to that but I adore her so if it doesn't I shall simply rewrite it.

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Sex and Violence

Welcome to “Mind the Rocks, Boys: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s4e14: Sex and Violence.

Men are killing their wives for what seems to be no good reason, and so the boys, of course, investigate. Turns out they’re on the hunt for a siren, which takes on the form its victim most desires. In the midst of the hunt, tensions between the brothers are simmering, mostly because Dean hates that Sam is doing whatever he’s doing with Ruby and lying to him about it. It doesn’t help that the Hot Doc they meet while on the case is totally into Sam and not Dean (this isn’t a situation Dean’s familiar or comfy with), and when Dean finds out Sam has boinked her in her office while he’s supposed to be working, Dean accuses HD of being the siren and goes off to solve the case on his own. Jokes on him, though, because the FBI agent he teams up with IS, in fact, the siren (oh, and should we talk about how it’s presenting as a dude for Dean?). Eventually FBI Siren infects both brothers and it honestly doesn’t take much stick-poking to get them right at each other’s throats. In fact, they come very close to killing each other when Bobby shows up just in time to gank the monster and save the day. #bestfosterdadever. The episode ends with Bobby leaving the boys with a slight stinkeye, and the boys shoving their real feelings under the rug, as per yoosh.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Mace:

Cas you’re such a snitch

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

this is why you don't keep a meat tenderizer around

Mace:

or maybe just not marry a douche

Lor:

aw lookit ’im sleepin

Lor:

well sure

Lor:

Sam's wearing Wes's sweater!

Mace:

i think you mean honshooing

Mace:

YES

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

now, Dean

Lor:

let's not judge people by their names

Mace:

yeah

Mace:

so this guy’s a dick in several directions. got it.

Lor:

right?

Lor:

I mean, I know there's wacky shit happening, but still

Mace:

yep

Mace:

demons didn’t make him walk into that strip club

Lor:

NOPE

Lor:

"far as I know" LOL

Mace:

HA

Lor:

look it him all in his lovely suit, all leaning forward all earnest

Mace:

yeah. she needs to back off though

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

she does

Lor:

I LOVE that everyone is either a Sam girl or a Dean girl [gender neutral]

Mace:

i mean, Sam in a suit will produce those levels

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

DEAN. WINCHESTER.

Lor:

lololol

Lor:

"I read"

Mace:

HA

Lor:

or it could be whoever is using a Disney princess name

Mace:

(Sirens didn’t lure the men in with sex - they sang to them songs that told stories of the men being great heroes and THAT’s what the men couldn’t resist)

Mace:

HA

Lor:

(oooo. that is so much more interesting)

Mace:

(yep. that’s usually the case with modern takes vs original tales)

Lor:

this is why you don't keep fire pokers around

Mace:

snork

Lor:

everyone would be fine if they just ridded themselves of these heavy blunt objects

Lor:

you glare at that phone, Dean, you glare at it

Mace:

sure sure

Mace:

Dean. Quit snooping

Lor:

he's so WORRIED. and so boundary hopping

Mace:

mrrrph

Mace:

dude. it sounds pretty straight forward

Lor:

right?

Lor:

the misdirection in this ep is awesome

Mace:

you mean the doc?

Lor:

yeah

Mace:

Ha! I feel like it’s pretty blunt, really

Lor:

oh well FINE, smarty pants

Lor:

I was totally fooled the first time

Lor:

heeee Bobby

Mace:

I mean, she’s clearly pulling all these boys in

Lor:

yeah

Mace:

Dean’s freckles are out of control

Lor:

you're supposed to have a one-night stand with him, Dean

Lor:

YAAAS

Mace:

well he knows stuff about Baby and loves her, so he’s halfway there

Lor:

YEP

Lor:

i don't get strip clubs? aren't you just getting all worked up with no way to do something about it?

Mace:

perfect for men who like to pretend to have big dicks

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

so what's the appeal? is it all performance? lookit me I'm at the strip club I'm such a man?

Lor:

wouldn't watching porn at home be more fun?

Lor:

confused in introvert ace

Mace:

maybe it’s like sex larping? they get to pretend for a bit that the women are actually into them?

Lor:

aaah yeah maybe

Mace:

my GOD Sammy looks good in this ep

Lor:

he DOES

Lor:

the undone collar and rolled up sleeves

Lor:

nice parallelism bt Sam and the doc hanging out and connecting with their work clothes a little after-hours rumpled and Dean and Nick doing the same thing

Mace:

yeah

Mace:

Sam. Come on. She’s gross.

Lor:

right?

Lor:

she's just annoying

Mace:

SUPER annoying

Mace:

because you just boned her, Sam

Lor:

yeah, that's not a hunch, Sam, that's an erection

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Mace:

“what’s with you and banging monsters"

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

okay mister I Poked The Stupidest Angel

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOL

Mace:

mmmm, toast

Lor:

"crazy on toast"

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Lor:

with some butter and cinnamon and sugar

Lor:

aw, Dean. he just wants someone to value him

Mace:

yep

Lor:

I VALUE YOU DEAN

Mace:

it’s stupid though that they’re playing it as if the siren is offering dudebro status. Come on.

Lor:

yeah, Dean doesn't want to be brothers with you, Nick

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Lor:

I mean, sure, part of why this works is bc Dean is feeling alienated from Sam, but he absolutely does not want Nick like a brother

Mace:

“and it wasn’t some bitch in a g-string” well, they at least got it half right

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

EW

Lor:

ick

Mace:

oh really, Dean? you’re not hiding stuff?

Lor:

yeeeeah

Lor:

Sam! Stop underestimating Dean's intelligence

Lor:

neither of these two get pie

Mace:

Ha!

Lor:

dude playing Nick is 100% playing this like lovers not brothers

Mace:

and Bobby’s stronger and smarter than both of them

Lor:

YAAAAAS

Lor:

"you boys are drivin, ain't ya?"

Lor:

I LOVE Dad!Bobby

Mace:

YES

Lor:

Bobby. Knock their heads together

Mace:

Aw, Bobby. Good parenting

Lor:

YES

Lor:

"course, me too"

Lor:

you lying little dopes

Mace:

totally unintentional I’m sure, but I love that the siren caused them to tell each other truths they didn’t want to hear instead of lies they did

Lor:

YAAAAAS