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ahundredtimesover · 11 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that.

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—”

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.

He’s unfairly handsome.

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

��No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshine @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker

Series Taglist: @xhazmania @ash07128 @rinkud @junniesoleilkth @junecat18 @peachytokki @baechugff @coralmusicblaze @jalexad

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #boss jungkook #boss au #workmates au

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evinebusinessservices · 2 years ago

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5sospenguinqueen · 7 months ago

Text

Post Race Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Y/N Verstappen wins her first GP in Monaco 2021. Her boyfriend, who was unable to even get his car to the starting line, struggles with it. Protective Max, begrudgingly, gets involved.

Warnings: Swearing. Female reader. Angst. Stroppy Charles.

Main Masterlist

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

User 1 finally got a post-race conference with the ultimate trio

→ User 2 not really the content that we wanted though. Did you see how sad Charles looked?

→ User 3 and the twins were absolutely rubbing it in his face. Did you see them gossiping the entire time?

→ User 4 she's his girlfriend. Not sure she would do that.

User 5 not the official F1 doing the Prince of Monaco dirty and posting about his loss. Like, I think he's already aware of it.

User 6 even angry, he looks good!

User 7 so sad to see. Especially after getting pole. Monaco are mourning for you, Charles.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Next Day

User 8 and after he was absent at her celebratory dinner.

→ User 9 he didn't post anything about her win either, unlike the other drives. Or like anything related to it.

→ User 10 you guys are reaching. They always have seperate rooms. The teams literally have to book them.

→ User 11 yeah but they ALWAYS share.

User 12 charles is obvi the WAG.

→ User 13 not for much longer from the looks of it.

SportsNews added a new reel

Sports News exclusive with Charles Leclerc following his recent loss at Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and others

→ charles_leclerc thanks for having me.

User 13 why is he trying to make it sound like his girlfriend cheated on him.

→ User 14 barbie has a great day everyday, but Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him.

User 15 sounds like confirmation, guys.

→ User 16 does this mean we have a chance?

→ danielricciardo No.

User 17 pop off, Sis

User 18 queen is serving cunt

User 19 she's everything. He's just Ken.

User 20 yell it louder for the misogynists in the back.

User 21 so, we're all in agreement that Charles is the one who fucked up?

→ User 19 after the way he stormed off yesterday when she won? Absolutely.

Y/N Verstappen new post

YourUserName petty comes in shades other than red. (And so does a Championship)

liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others

User 1 i bet their PR teams are having a field day

lilymhe my most beautiful driver

→ alex_albon oi.

landonorris winning looks good on you

→ User 2 little Lando shooting his shot.

→ User 3 i fear this means we are children of divorce.

mclaren our Champion <3

User 4 us thinking we can finally get rid of the Dutch anthem 🥳 Us remembering Y/N's last name 😒🇳🇱

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Next Day

Part 2? Let me know :)

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jihyoruri · 27 days ago

Text

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ CONSUME (richgirl!yn | chaewon x reader )

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing

— BONUNS CHAPTER | the dark sides of the moon family

JUNE 21st 1994

“On June 21st today at exactly 3:14 am Moon Minjun son of Moon Joonho was found unconscious in the road. The 18 year old has been rushed immediately to urgent care and is reported to be okay, but this has us all wondering how and why was he found in this state?”

In the heavy silence of the room, the camera lingered on minjun's face, his expression tense as he glanced between his father and mother. his father scanned the documents in front of him, offering no reaction, while his mother placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, a hint of worry in her eyes..

a reporter finally broke the silence. "Minjun, can you explain why you were found in such a state?"

minjun cleared his throat, shifting in his seat with a forced composure. "I was... out with other young professionals in similar family businesses," he began, his tone carefully measured. "and, well, I believe someone may have slipped something into my drink."

gasps rippled through the crowd as reporters exchanged looks of shock. he nodded slowly, letting the words sink in before adding, "I have my suspicions about who it could be, but I won't be disclosing that in this press conference."

he kept his face neutral, holding the lie in place with an almost practiced precision. but behind the mask, the truth remained locked away, hidden from the prying eyes of the public.

the real reason was overworking and exhaustion and maybe a little bit of over drinking, but nobody would know the conditions of the family.

the headlines were off the rails two weeks later.

KIM SUBIN UPCOMING LEADER OF K.I IS NOW IN CUSTODY FOR SPIKING MOON MINJUN’S DRINK WHICH LEAD TO HIM BEING FOUND IN THE ROAD

poor subin.

FEBRUARY 14th 2014

“On february 14th five members of the Moon family held their monthly conference. The youngest that we know as 12 year old yn was sitting in between her two older brothers while Their father was talking. From what we could see from the video Moon Yeonjin gestured for yn to get a water bottle for her brothers which the she complied to but she didn’t get far after completing collapsing after two steps. An insider reported that the cause was due to lack of food and fluids, which makes us wonder why a 12 year old girl is lacking those nutrients.”

the camera zoomed in on yn’s gaze that nervously swept across the rows of reporters and journalists in front of her as her family stood solemnly behind her. she cleared her throat, mentally rehearsing the words she had been given, each syllable feeling heavier than the last. for some in the audience, this scene was painfully familiar.

a reporter leaned forward, his voice laced with concern. "How are you feeling today, YN? Have you eaten well?"

a faint smile broke through her nerves, and she replied softly, "yes, I've been okay. I had a big breakfast." Her answer brought a ripple of fond laughter from the crowd, a brief moment of levity that softened the tension.

"can you tell us if there's a reason why you weren't able to meet your basic needs?" he continued, a hint of sympathy in his tone.

yn’s heart raced, the weight of her words pressing down on her. "I had been sick the week before," she began, keeping her voice steady. "I didn’t have an appetite and couldn’t keep anything down. I was still recovering during the conference."

the lie words left her lips smoothly, a perfectly crafted explanation. she didn’t dare look back at her family, praying her carefully delivered answer was enough to satisfy the room’s prying eyes.

and make her family proud.

DECEMBER 23rd 2018

“On December 23rd the every single person apart of the Moon family was called into an emergency press conference regarding the business but the business was the last thing on peoples minds after seeing the terrifying look of the family.

People described them as sick looking and pale. The family has never looked like this before in public which is causing a lot of worries onto why every single Moon in the room looks like this, take a look at the video.”

the cameron zoomed in on minjun who looked rather pale his eyes steady on the papers in front of him, the room had an scary silence to it.

the camera went into to zoom in on every single member of the families face, all of them draped in chanel, they all talked normally and acted normally but looked unusual, like a tim burton animation.

they looked sick.

when the camera finally landed on yn, she looked directly into the lens, her eyes hollow, her gaze unsettlingly steady. it was the killing shot of the whole video, an unspoken message from the youngest member of the family, leaving viewers to wonder what unspeakable truth lay beneath the moon family’s facade

#richgirl!yn #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim #le sserafim x reader #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon #chaewon #kim chaewon x reader #girl group imagines

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changetyre · 2 months ago

Note

could you do a 3some between Charles and Lando where the reader is bratty and starts flirting with another driver just to get charles and landos attentions. so because lando and Charles are jealous they take the reader somewhere and fuck her senseless to teach her a lesson. so like super smutty. (bjs, pussy eating, oral, anal etc)

Attention Who** II Charles x Reader x Lando Ⓦ

SUMMARY: Being used to the constant attention of not one but two men you can't stand it when you get "ignored" by both leading you to do something about it.

WARNINGS: **18+**, polyamorous relationship, smut, bratty reader, degradation.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long but here it is ;) hope you enjoy xx

Your eyes scrunched as the sun peaked through the curtains hitting your eyes directly. You huffed not ready to get up but knowing it was about time.

Stretching out a little you stretched your arms to the side ready to feel the bodies of your sleeping boyfriends but to your unpleasant surprise, your arms sunk down touching the cold bed instead.

You sat up, your sleepy eyes looking for any trace of them, freezing on the spot for a few seconds hoping to hear them somewhere around the hotel room.

This was odd. No, it wasn't unusual for them to leave you to head to work. But you were certainly used to being woken up to see them off, kisses being placed all over your body, or even woken up by a pleasant feeling between your legs but you got none of that.

In fact, you hadn't even had any of it last night. They had also left you alone in the afternoon, promising to come back to you at night, but you ended up falling asleep alone.

Now it seemed they had come and gone without a trace and it had now been well over 12 hours since you last saw and spoke to your boyfriends.

You grabbed your phone expecting to see a text from at least one of them but once more were sad to realize there was nothing. You would've gotten worried, maybe even more sad if it weren't for the pictures that soon popped up on your timeline of Charles and Lando arriving on track happy as ever.

Your sadness was quickly replaced with anger, not liking one bit of this lack of attention something you had yet to experience since you started dating the boys 5 months ago. This wasn't sitting right with you.

If they didn't want to give you any attention then so be it but you weren't going to make it easy for them. Getting up you took your time getting ready making sure you smelled wonderful, your hair looked shiny, your skin soft, your lips kissable, and your body irresistible with the outfit you picked out for the day.

Your tube top, mini skirt, and kitten heels left little to nothing to the imagination as you happily strolled through the paddock capturing the eyes of many.

You had purposefully arrived just in time for the press conference and media pen interviews to start. Both Charles and Lando were in the media pen today which is where you were headed with a very specific idea in mind.

Due to your uncommon relationship no one in the paddock knew you were dating both Charles and Lando, only aware of the fact you were close to both, a childhood friend to both, which helped the fact that no one batted an eye when you were a little too friendly with other drivers.

This time you knew whose attention you wanted. Arriving at the media pen you saw Charles already doing an interview, his back turned to you while Lando was waiting for his turn.

You saw him notice you, his eyes quickly scanning your outfit and the anger that filled his eyes before he was called to his interview.

You smirked spotting Franco outside the media pen waiting to be called in.

"Hey, I don't think we've met I'm y/n." You introduced yourself. You didn't miss the way his eyes dropped down to your body before meeting your eyes.

"I'm Franco, you know I've always wanted to meet you." He smirked cheekily.

You were a fool not to admit this man had charm. "Why's that?" You added a flirty tone to your voice usually reserved for your boyfriends.

"Well, you seem to have Charles and Lando wrapped around their fingers wanted to see what that's all about." He closed the distance between you both.

You laughed, your cheeks reddening and that's when you felt a second gaze on you. Looking up you saw Charles's eyes on you, his eyes filled with the same anger that filled Lando's. Now you had both their attention.

Your hand flirtily patted Franco's chest. "Well, I'd be happy to show you."

"Hmm, well that's my day made then." Franco smiled as he shamelessly cupped your jaw dragging his thumb across your bottom lip as if to wipe some of your gloss that was out of place.

You were only human, caught in the moment you failed to notice Charles deciding he'd seen enough only snapped out of the moment when you felt him grab your arm.

"Keep your hands to yourself." Charles stepped in between you and Franco.

Luckily for Franco, he was called into the media pen the same second.

"What the f*ck was that?" Charles turned to ask you.

You dismissed him, watching as Franco walked into the media pen looking back to shoot you a look.

Charles cupped your face bringing your attention back to him. "What is this?!"

"What the f*ck are you wearing?" Lando soon joined you standing behind you caging you between them.

You again dismissed the question your eyes back on Franco who had started his interview although his eyes remained trained on you.

"Really?!" you heard Charles scoff before he cupped your cheek once again only this time pulling you into a heavy kiss.

You were surprised, to say the least, unable to resist the action you simply grabbed at Charles's arms waiting for him to pull away, and once he did you had forgotten all about your previous teases.

"Let's go." Lando grabbed your hand.

"The cameras." your voice was small and shy as you looked around seeing the amount of camera that had just captured the moment.

"It's about time they knew who you belong to," Charles smirked this time as he followed after you and Lando whos grip was tight around your hand as he led you away from the pen.

There was no point in you fighting as Lando pulled you into his driver's room Charles quickly stepped in with you as he locked the door behind him.

"Wanna tell us what that little show was about?" Charles asked you as they once again caged you between them.

You shrugged again, leaning back onto Lando's chest to take some pressure off your feet. You felt Lando's arm wrap over your waist his hand resting over your stomach.

"What did we do?" Lando humored you.

You sighed dramatically "More like what didn't you do."

"It's not even noon what could we have possibly done wrong already?" Charles laughed.

"hmm yeah, you're right." you stepped to the side crawling up onto Lando's massage bed giving them a beautiful view of the lace underneath your skirt. "I love going to bed and waking up alone with not a word from my boyfriends, makes a girl feel real special."

"You didn't get dinner with her last night?" Charles turned to Lando.

"No, I thought you would? When I got home you were both asleep already?" Lando asked Charles just as surprised.

"I thought you got dinner with her and hit the gym. Like this morning when you were already gone."

"I was in the shower!" Lando scolded his boyfriend.

"I went to the gym then came to the track!" Charles raised his voice back.

"You didn't drive with her here?!" Lando gasped.

"I'm gonna go find Franco." you got up from the massage bad ready to head back out.

"Don't you dare-" You yelped as you were pulled back onto the massage bed.

"We fucked up the baby but this-" Lando cupped your barely clothed core making you gasp. "uncalled for."

"Our darling doesn't get attention for a few hours and she's already whoring herself out?" Charles tskd.

"You really think that boy can make you cum the way we do?" Lando shoved a finger inside you, swirling it around making your hips buck with it.

"Why don't you give me the chance to find out?" Despite getting the attention you wanted it didn't mean you still weren't pissed off.

Charles laughed. "Nice try."

Before you could bite back you were silenced by your own gasp as Lando came down on you. He didn't waste any time as he licked his tongue all across your pussy before taking the time to flick your clit.

"Is this what you wanted?" Lando momentarily stopped making you whine.

"Stop whining and put that mouth to use." Charles shoved his cock in your mouth as Lando continued licking you out.

You were struggling, struggling to suck Charles as Lando without warning started fucking you relentlessly.

"F*ck let me get inside her," Charles said to Lando as he pulled out causing you to whine again.

"I was almost cummin-" you cried as this was the 4h time Lando had taken you to the edge only to stop.

"Why don't you get Franco to finish the job huh?" Lando teased.

Charles grabbed you, holding you up before sliding under you on the massage bed.

"Pass me my phone and I'll glad-" you were quickly silenced again as Charles slipped into you.

"He'll never get you this full darlin-" Lando kissed one of your ass cheeks before thrusting into your second hole.

"F*CK!" You moaned as there was no prior preparation.

"Sh*t she's soaking me," Charles smirked as your juices started dripping down the base of his cock.

"Pathetic to think she wanted to try this with someone else." Lando laughed.

"I'm gonna cum!" You let your body fall down on top of Charles as your body began to tremble with the oncoming orgasm.

"Should we let her?" Lando teased as he started to slow down.

"NO!" You yelled. "Please please Lan I'll be good I promise. Please-Charlie please let me cum!" You begged your boyfriends your previous confidence replaced with pure desperation.

"She's asked so nicely Lando, and we did fuck up a little," Charles smirked, loving to hear you beg. He pulled your lips to his into a sloppy kiss as they both picked up their pace.

You moaned into Charles's mouth as you came undone, your legs trembling as you momentarily lost control of your body. You could feel as if they both came inside you, filling you up completely. They were right, no one could ever fill you like them.

#f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1fic #formula 1 #f1 smut #f1smut #lando norris x charles leclerc #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 poly fic #f1 poly #smut

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f1version · 1 year ago

Text

26 BIRTHDAY KISSES ★ CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x gf!reader ( she/her )

summary: 26th birthday, 26 pictures of you and Charles kissing. A kiss for each year.

notes: i’m back from my birthday trip!! i wrote this birthday special in like 30 minutes and it’s still charles’ birthday in a couple of places so… i’m not exactly late! enjoy <3

26 KISSES: A GALLERY

By your beautiful girlfriend, in collaboration with a lot of people but mainly Joris and ourselves.

1. DRUNK DANCING: A month after we got together, we were at Arthur’s 18th birthday. We got drunk, singing and dancing to the worst playlist in existence (Lorenzo’s) and, somehow, Arthur got to capture this moment I barely even remember.

Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2018

2. AUGUST 2019: Summer break, so sweet so loving. You made me promise that if you jumped off first, I would jump too. It took me fifteen minutes to follow after you. Also your kisses were incredibly salty.

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2019

3. THE MONZA INCIDENT: I had red lipstick the night you won in Monza, you told me it looked pretty, I asked you to kiss me, you did. Fast forward 8 minutes it was all smudged over your lips, you were 10 minutes late to the post-race conference, and Sylvia almost banned me that night. (I’m still kind of banned from your driver’s room)

Taken by Charles Leclerc, 2019

4. UNDER THE COVERS: 2020, what a crazy year. This one was taken the day we decided to finish moving in together. You were so excited, wanted everything to be perfect. Today I can say it is.

Taken by Me, 2020

5. WORDS: We were spending Christmas by ourselves, we face-timed our families, had dinner and watched movies. You gifted me three beautiful words I, of course, said back… and we also got a puppy!

Taken by Charles’ phone timer, 2020

6. OCEAN BREZEE: Just a small escapade to take a breath. You were so cuddly that day, Joris was so done with you (he still took the pic though)

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2021

7. CUTE OR HOT: I just wanted a cute morning selfie but, because of you, we ended up in a…promising mood. It was intense that’s all I have to say!

Taken by Me, 2021

8. KISS KISS KISS: 24th birthday, 24 kisses. This kind of became a tradition, let me know if you still want them this year!

Taken by Me, 2021

9. DRUNK AF: How did we got so drunk? Ask Pierre, he was the one hosting. Either way we got another amazing photo of us drunk-kissing!!!

Taken by Pierre Gasly, 2021

10. UNDER THE SEA: I’m just going to say that you and your ‘photo ideas 📸’ folder are attached by the hip. I personally love this one (even if it took half an hour to take)

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2021

11. NEW YORK: Thought you could scape this one? Never! Arthur and I didn’t spend a week listening to your complaining for nothing, babe. You must admit that this kiss was magical, everything was so pretty that day. And then it started snowing!

Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2021

12. EXPOSED: Remember how our amazing soft launch got ruined by our trip to Ibiza? Well, here it is, the image we couldn’t stop laughing at when it came out, we really thought we were sneaky.

Taken by unknown, 2022

13. HARD LAUNCH: A week later we were kissing on live TV. It’s one of my favorite memories, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Taken by F1 TV, 2022

14. BACK KISSES: Just a picture of the morning after I learned that you can convince anyone, even the CEO of Ferrari, to allow you to leave sponsor events early. I really don’t know if you knew those kisses were there, but I woke up to this, took a picture and then left you with them until we took a shower.

Taken by Me, 2022

15. SPONSORED BY AIRMAX: That time your team forgot to book us a flight and you had to ask Lando to ask Daniel to ask Max if we could go back to Monaco with them. I’ve never seen Max talk so much, Daniel laugh so loud or Lando taking so many pictures. He even asked to take one of us, here it is:

Taken by Lando Norris, 2022

16. SIXTEEN: I bet you thought this one would have something to do with racing. Number 16. Sorry to disappoint but it’s our beautiful puppy…Sixteen! I’m not gonna lie, I still hate you for persuading me into that name. Anyways if you kiss the dog you kiss the mom!!

Taken by Me, 2022

17. 25 KISSES: Again, tell me if you want those 26 kisses this year. Look at us last year!

Taken by Me, 2022

18. NEW YEAR, SAME LOVE: Sometimes the world feels unreal when I’m with you, this was one of those days. I felt in another reality, the world slowed down, it was just you and me. I remember thinking “I fell in love with the right person” and then you kissed me.

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2022

19. BLACK SUIT: Remember when your fans thanked me for your “new” outfits? They repeated it was the girlfriend effect, you couldn’t stop talking about how stylish you are with or without me!

Taken by Me, 2023

20. PHOTOSHOOT: You got Joris to take these shots just because you wanted a new wallpaper. I thought it was silly, until one day all of them were hanging around our home. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Charlie.

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2023

21. FIVE STAR CHEFS: Not much to say, just sorry for being so distracting and thank you for the amazing (stolen from Ferrari) dinner babe!

Taken by Charles’ phone timer, 2023

22. RED LIGHTS: This year’s addition to our drunk-kissing collection. I remember you drowning shots with Carlos and Pierre, asking me to dance with you, absolutely failing at that, and then kissing me. After that there’s blurry ferrari red, giggles and a hot bath.

Taken by Andrea Ferrari, 2023

23. LAZY IN BED: Wonderful lazy days by the ocean, that’s how we spent the summer break. That morning in particular you didn’t want to get up, basically gluing me to bed. We got up at 1pm.

Taken by Me, 2023

24. JUST ONE QUESTION: Can I drive the purosangue now? Please please please

Taken by Me, 2023

25. LOVER: This day I woke up thinking about those dreams we talk about all the time, you even remembered me a couple of them throughout the day. Charlie, I do want to do this for the rest of our lives, never forget it <3

Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2023

26. TWENTY-SIX: We are just 26 but I hope our story keeps on writing itself. I love you, these have been the happiest 6 years of my life. Happy birthday bébé ❤️

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2023

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penelopepine · 4 months ago

Text

Elephant in the Room Pt. 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 2218 Content: angst, violence against kid, kidnapping

The only thing Price had planned today was to organize some files and catch up with paperwork. All of that was thrown out the door though when he received a message from Laswell stating that she was on her way, and that he needed to prepare a conference room right away.

It didn't take a genius to tell that whatever was going on was some kind of emergency. A big enough emergency that the rest of the team was not privy to know about.

Just as he was getting settled in the room the door was being thrown open.

"John." Laswell momentarily greets him before heading straight to the front and getting her laptop connected to the projector. "Take a seat; you'll need it."

The screen is turned on as he does as she says and the first thing he sees is a young boy tied to a chair with his head down. The wall behind him is nothing but cracked stones.

Upon seeing this everyone is much more serious now. They don't know who this child is, but it must be someone important for them to be the ones dealing with this situation. Price doesn't have much time to linger on that thought because just as quickly Laswell has clicked play on the video.

A man steps into frame, his face covered, behind the kid before grabbing his hair, and yanking his face up towards the camera.

That is when the boy's face finally becomes visible to everyone in the room. It's a face Price is all too familiar with because in any other circumstance he would have thought he was being shown a picture of himself as a kid. This is not any other circumstance though, and there is a child on screen that looks eerily like him.

"Captain Price, I have to admit you did a good job, but you must have known you couldn't have hidden your son forever." The man brings his other hand up, and gives the boy a hard pat on the cheek, "Go ahead, tell your father how he failed."

"Please," he softly sniffles, "I don't know who you're talking about. I've never met my father; you have the wrong kid."

"I tire of your lies kid," with a growl the man shoves the boy's head back down. "Now Price, If you want to see your son alive again you'll do as we say."

As much as Price wants to continue listening he can't help but drown out all of the sounds around him. That's … his son?

No.

No, that can't be because he doesn't have a son.

His heart pounds in his chest as he thinks about the possibility of this kid being his son, and what he is currently going through. It's hard to deny the similarity between the two of them. Either this is his doppelganger or … this is his son.

“Name." He demands from Laswell. Knowing her, she has already done all the research she could on her way here.

"His name is Andrew." Laswell is now sitting opposite of him as she hands him three folders. He knows instantly that these folders contain every piece of information about his … son. What Laswell does next though is what really confirms everything in his mind. She says your name, asks if he knows you, and that is all he needs to know that this really is his child.

Price doesn't answer, he simply nods, and holds the folders tight in his hands. He goes to open the first one, but Laswell stops him before he can. "John, take these and read through them in your office. They have a lot of information, and some of it is only going to upset you further. Take some time for yourself looking over it while I gather the rest of the boys, and explain to them our next steps."

“What are the next steps?”

“I’ll go over all that only after you read what’s in those,” She points at the papers in his hand, “I imagine you’re going to have a few more questions after, and those can be discussed when planning on what to do.”

With a final nod he stands up, and carefully holds the folder with both hands as he walks back to his office. Price locks the door behind him before sitting down at his desk. Hesitating for only a second before finally opening the file on top.

The first thing he sees is a picture of Andrew, who is smiling brightly at the camera. It’s a stark contrast to the video of him half scared to death.

He'll make sure that his son gets back alive.

Looking at the other papers he sees that Andrew is a football player, seems like he's been playing for years now. What makes him pause though is when he finds a copy of the birth certificate. Very carefully taking in all the information; his son is currently 12 and weighed 5.8 pounds at birth.

Price felt all air leave his body though when he saw the middle name listed. It was his name; John.

That had to mean something right?

He refused to think anymore on that thought though, and pulled out the next file. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to find, but coming face to face with a picture of a 12 year girl wasn’t it. Amelia is the name written under the photo.

It feels as if a rock has settled in his gut looking at her, and thinking about what this means. The first thing he looks for is if there is a birth certificate within the papers. When he finds it the birth day listed confirms his thoughts.

He has 12 year old twins, and he only learned about their existence less than an hour ago.

With shaky hands Price flips through the rest of the paper, and what he finds is photo after photo of Amelia at what looks like school science fairs throughout the years.

Closing Amelia's folder a few minutes later he reaches for the last one. He stares at it for several seconds before opening it up. That is when he sees you; he can’t help, but think that you look just as beautiful as you did all those years ago, if not more so.

His heart broke though when looking through everything. Pictures of you pregnant, in the hospital holding two babies, and then with two toddlers hanging off of you. Price watched as the two of them grew up with each photo.

It wasn’t until he reached the last photo did he finally break down. The photo looks to have been taken fairly recently, and he couldn’t help but think about what his life could have been like if he had just talked to you before leaving. At the very least leave you with a phone number to contact him later with. Price had been selfish though, and left you with nothing; not even a last name.

He couldn’t even imagine what you must be going through right now.

Instantly Price steeled himself with that thought. The son that you’ve raised for 12 years is now in the hands of terrorists, and here he is feeling bad for himself about a situation he caused. He stands, grabbing the folders as well, with a new found strength and walks out of his office back to where Laswell is with the rest of the team. If he tucked that last photo into his pocket then that was only for him to know.

He gives a single knock on the meeting door before barging inside directing his gaze towards Laswell, "What's the plan?"

"John, glad you could join us. I was just finishing up explaining everything to the team."

"They know about all three?" Briefly raising up the files before taking a seat.

"They do."

Looking around at his men he sees that both Soap and Gaz show sadness on their faces. Ghost on the other hand looks as he normally does. "Good, we don't need to waste time discussing that any further then. Let's focus on how we're going to get Andrew back safe and sound to his mother and sister."

“I’m glad you mentioned them actually because that is our next step.” Laswell clicks something on her laptop and the projector changes to show a photo of you and Amelia. “We need to retrieve these two, and get them on base right away. They already have one hostage, we don't need them getting anymore.”

As much as Price wished that he could just leave you alone, he knew that Laswell was right. They already thought Andrew and him knew each other; what’s stopping them from getting you two to threaten him as well. “When are we picking them up?”

“Right after we’re done here. I’ll send you the address now.” Laswell picks up her phone and in a second Price feels his own phone vibrate, “Tell them to pack the necessities; I’m arranging for them to be put up in one of the on base houses.”

Gaz is the first to ask her a question, “I assume a missing child report has already been filed with the police. Aren't they going to be concerned when the rest of the family disappears?”

“The local police are going to be notified later today. We don’t need them interfering with us protecting this family.”

“What about the lad though; what’s the plan for him?” Soap urgently asks.

She turns to face Soap, “I have a team looking into the video sent right now. Their demands are being followed as of now. As soon as we get a location you four are going to be sent out to retrieve him. Any other questions?”

Price knew that each and every one of these lads had a question; it just wasn’t Laswell who they wanted to ask. Ghost’s long staring gaze for example hasn’t left him once during this entire conversation, and he knew he’d be hearing something from the man later on.

Gaz kept glancing in his direction with looks filled with pity. Soap on the other hand was portraying nothing but anger. The sargeant’s shoulders were obviously tense, and he kept flexing his hands.

Not wanting to sit in the awkward silence any longer Laswell is quick to send them off.

It’s luckily only an hour and a half drive to your home. At the same time though it makes his chest tight thinking that this entire time you and the kids have been so close.

Silently they all followed him out of the room, and into the parking lot. Ghost and Soap went to one vehicle while Gaz hopped in the passenger seat of his. It only takes a few minutes into the drive for the quiet to be broken.

“Cap, if you want to talk-” Gaz starts to ask.

“Not now Gaz.” Price is quick to cut him off from finishing his words, “not now.”

He can’t talk about all of this right now. What he needs to do is to just push his feelings down, and focus on the task at hand otherwise he fears that he’s not going to be able to get through the rest of the day. Price still needs to talk to you after all; that conversation is only going to end in shambles.

Thinking about it he wonders how you're going to react to seeing him after all this time. Are you going to recognize him? How much do the twins know about him? It can’t be much considering you knew almost nothing about him as well. These questions flooded his mind for the whole drive until eventually pulling into your driveway.

You lived in a pretty house in the countryside, a place he would have loved to raise a family.

A sudden knock on the window beside him shook him from his thoughts. Ghost stood right by the car door with Soap and Gaz behind him. “You coming, captain?”

Without answering him he opens the door, and starts marching towards the front door. Before he takes a step onto the front porch he turns to address the three men behind him. "You lot stand here while I go try to talk to her. We don't want to freak her out with four strange men crowding her doorway."

Price doesn't wait for them to respond, and simply turns around once more. Time seems to slow down with each step closer to your door. He's not sure how you're going to react, but he knows that he's going to do everything he can to earn a spot in your life; in your children's life.

With three hard knocks he waits for you to open the door, and when the door opens he feels all the air leave his body.

You admittedly look disheveled, but that is not enough to make his heart beat any less for you. Upon seeing him though you have a look between confusion and shock on your face.

He tries to say anything in the moment, but before anything can be said though you swiftly slam the door in his face. Even muffled by the door he can hear a sob coming from the other side.

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

#john price x reader #john price #x reader #task force 141 #fem reader #agnst #call of duty

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loveindefinitely · 10 months ago

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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

12 — IN SOME SAD WAY, I ALREADY KNOW

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“A written statement from the General himself.”

You mindlessly nod, eyes unfocused and ears ringing as you sit at the conference table, Laswell at the head with the paper in hand. Her brows are furrowed, and one of her hands rests at her hip as she reads over the paper’s contents once more.

Everything feels numb. Like your entire body’s been reset, and nothing makes sense – as if your very existence has been muffled.

Price and Ghost sit at the table, too, sharing looks with each other. The Sergeants are out training rookies – and a small, minute part of you is grateful. You don’t want them to see you so…

Whatever you are. Numb, cold, unfeeling. Any adjective that fits.

“Shepherd traded her,” Price seethes, knuckles whitening on the tight grip he has around his pack of cigars.

“But why?” Laswell asks, exasperated, pacing at the front of the conference room. The overhead beams have been left off, so the frosted window is the only source of light. It allows a soft, gentle glow from the moon to fill the room, and it helps with your racing mind.

“We need to find him,” Ghost demands, voice gruff and icy. Thinly veiled anger – you recognise the tone all too well.

“This gives us evidence to push the search further,” Laswell cuts in, her footfalls pausing as she searches the scrawled handwriting for something. “And it opens up a new trail. Why did Graves want you? And what did Shepherd deem worthy of trading his star soldier?”

Your leg’s bouncing, the soft tap tap tap of your foot against the linoleum floor sounding more like a ticking time bomb than anything.

When you look up from the table, your eyes instantly clash with a pair of dark brown. Ghost.

He’s watching you – something hidden behind his gaze that you can’t unpack. Not now, at least, with your mind racing at a million thoughts per hour. With your body feeling as sensitive as a live wire. Every breath feels manual, a feat in and of itself.

You break your eye contact with him suddenly, weary, looking to the window instead. The moon isn’t so complicated; doesn’t hold so many layers of darkness, both in colour and soul.

There’s nothing like the feeling of moonlight against your skin, the brush of nightly breezes against your chilled skin.

“Sweetheart –” Your attention instantly goes to Price, whose hands are clasped on the table, gaze heavy where it sits on you, “Do you know anything at all that could help us. Any leads.”

You go to open your mouth, but everything feels wrong, your stomach sinking and hands trembling and vision going blurry.

Without any thought, or reason, you abruptly stand, slightly shaky on your feet. You swallow, once, a difficult movement against your barren throat. Scratchy and harsh.

“I – I’m sorry, I need a moment,” you manage to mutter out, taking a step back in a shadow of defence.

Brows furrow, a question’s asked – you don’t hear, don’t see, because all you can do is turn and bolt out of the room, shouldering the door open and heading down the hospital light-white corridor, the white burning your vision.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your chest heaving, the echoing sound of your boots against the floor a distant soundtrack.

“Fuck,” you mutter, palms coming up to rub harshly at your face as you slow, unsure. You just need space, a moment to yourself, a place to break apart with no one as your witness.

A slightly ajar closet to your left seems like your best bet.

Heading for it, you push in, the stale scent of cleaning products hitting your nose. It’s difficult to find any part of you that cares in the slightest.

The door closes, and you just stand, for a moment, your head resting against the wood. Every breath rattles your bones, like your core is falling apart at its seams. Another breath. Two more.

Except it’s getting harder, with every breath, to fill your lungs. They come out harried, shallow and not unlike slices of a knife against your windpipe. They tear from your mouth like coughs.

Your back hits the wall, and you slide down, until you’re sat on the floor, head sat between your bent knees as the first tears finally fall down your cheeks. Hiccups leave your chapped lips, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your shoulders shake.

You haven’t allowed yourself to break down like this in... Gods, you can’t even remember. All you know is that it hurts, at your very core, but it’s also kind of freeing.

It’s as if your world is closing in around you; your breaths doing nothing to quell that intense sense of suffocation, cruel in the grasp your fear has around your throat. Nothing makes sense – everything hurts, your tears leave lines of heat down your cheeks –

The door creaks open.

Heart stuttering in your chest, you look up from your balled up frame with blurry vision, to see who your intruder is. Did Gaz or Soap leave the rookies early? Did Price or Laswell get worried and come check on you?

“Sweetheart.”

The tall, threatening frame of the man fills out the small crack of the door in a way that has your breath catching for a whole other reason.

“Ghost?” You find yourself asking, your voice threatening a whine with the state you’re in.

He steps in, the scent of blood and some cologne filling the space as he does. You wipe at your bloodshot eyes, curling in closer.

“If you want to kill me, this is probably your best bet,” you bite, posturing, an attempt of goading so your image isn’t completely ruined. The idea isn’t completely unfound, either – he very well could pull out his gun and shoot you clean through the head.

He shakes his head, closing the door – allowing pitch black to envelop you both.

“You’re too cheeky for your own good,” he mutters, and despite all of your notions of the man, he slides into a sitting position next to you.

If you could stabilise your breaths, you would, if for no other fact than your own embarrassment. Your body still trembles, and small hiccups still leave your lips with every shaky breath.

His presence is warm against yours, and when he moves, the fabric of his uniform brushes against your own.

“Why are you here?” You find yourself asking, a whisper under your breath. Just loud enough for him to hear, for him to hear the fragile undertone. The risk you’re taking, sitting beside him in this state.

He looses a breath – easy, soft. Unlike everything you know about the hulking man. “I understand.”

You can’t help the uneasy chuckle that leaves your lips. “You understand? Mister been-conspiring-against-me-since-day-one?”

“I understand what it’s like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, with no one you trust there to hold you, too.”

You look to him, but in the darkness, it’s more of an instinctual act than anything.

“Didn’t realise you were a poet, Lieutenant,” you chide, voice breaking slightly around the syllables. He doesn’t comment; a small mercy.

He shrugs, brushing against you as he does. “Not a poet. Just a soldier.”

“And an asshole,” you hum, and you can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes you when he elbows you in the dip of your waist. You elbow him back, unthinkingly, freely.

Silence fills in the gaps, except for the background noise of your shaky, tight breathing, and the bounce of your knees.

That is, until the man beside you breaks it.

“I asked my dog what two minus two is,” Ghost says, easily. You loosen your posture, just slightly, brows furrowed when you turn your head towards him once more.

“What are you on about?” You ask, incredulous. He shrugs. Nods.

“I asked my dog what two minus two is,” he continues, despite the confusion that is surely emanating off of you. “She said nothing.”

You let out a shocked, lost bark of a laugh at that, turning your body around so you’re facing him in the enclosed space. “Was that a dad joke?”

“I found out why my dog’s such a bad dancer,” Ghost starts once more, continuing despite your elongated groan. Seems to relish in your dismay.

“And why’s that?” You entertain him, despite the anxiety in your gut, the words left unsaid burning your tongue.

“She’s got two left feet.”

You heave a sigh, shaking your head – but the corners of your lips pull into a cheesy grin, and your breaths are lighter. Easier, natural, less harsh against your dry throat. “Do you even have a dog?” You ask.

“Her name’s Riley. She’s my family,” he says, earnestly, and your heart shatters just a bit more.

“What breed is she?”

“German Shepherd. Used to work in the military, till a mission gone wrong left her too scared to work in the field. Saved ‘er from the pound.”

How can this man be the same one who threatened your life? Who – who had made it very clear how little he trusted you, and was generally such a jerk? A complete asshole, of whom you had no qualms hating?

“She’d like you,” he adds, and you blink, “Always did like girls more than guys. Strong ones, at that.”

“You think I’m strong?”

You can tell he rolls his eyes, even without being able to see it. “I’ll bring ‘er in, when this is all said and done.”

“When this is all said and done, we’ll probably never see each other again. Small mercies, hey?” Your tone takes on a joking lilt.

He doesn’t laugh.

And it hits you, then. How fragile this very situation is. How unimportant, in the real scheme of things, your relationship with the 141 is. When Graves and Shepherd have been dealt with, where do you fit in? What purpose will you have?

You don’t, can’t, truly fit in with them. They’re already so interconnected, memories spent together that you’ll never understand, connections you have no place in joining.

Oh, what a stab in the gut that is.

“I can get Johnny or Kyle if you want,” Ghost offers, but you find yourself answering just this side of too soon.

“No.”

You realise, as you sit here beside him, that he is all you need. Soap and Gaz would’ve tried to ramble or make a move on you, Price would’ve tried to embrace you. Ghost just sits, and waits, his presence speaking a thousand words. He’s your anchor, right now.

“What does a bee use to brush its hair?” Ghost breaks the quiet, once more, his words steady and grating with the low timbre of his voice.

You exhale, but go along with it anyways. “I haven’t a clue.”

“A honeycomb.”

You scoff, but the smile on your face doesn’t waver – your cheeks hurting from the way it tugs on the muscles of your tired face. “That was awful, Lt.”

“Johnny laughed at that one,” he replies, head tilted to rest his skull against the wall. His arms rest on the bends of his knees.

“That’s cause he feels bad for you,” you hum, satisfaction weighing on your words.

Ghost elbows you once more, a bit too hard, but you find the movement grounding more than harmful. Like a way for your body to come back to itself, and register the world around you. No need for self-destruction or derealisation.

“They really like you, y’know,” he murmurs, and your breath pauses in your chest. “The Sergeants. Won’t shut up about you when you’re gone.”

“Well, if you’re gonna hate me, some support is nice,” you retort, and he huffs a low breath. Pauses, like he’s thinking something over. Weighing the risk and reward of his next statement.

“I don’t,” he rolls his tongue in his mouth, “I don’t hate you.”

“You’ve had me fooled,” you retort, the cool wall against your cheek a steady reminder of the world. “The whole threatening to kill me thing, and all.”

“If it means protecting Johnny, Kyle – even Price, I’d do it. Still will,” he says, the last statement bordering on a warning. “If you’ve somehow fooled us all, then I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

You swallow. Scratch at the skin of your wrist.

“I just need to figure this shit out,” you admit, looking to the roof for answers. “Once Shadow Company’s been taken down, and Shepherd’s dealt with, everything can go back to normal. This’ll just be a blip in time.”

“The Sergeants aren’t going to let you go,” Ghost warns, an edge to his words. “What are you gonna do, anyways? Live in the countryside?”

“I don’t know,” you confess, picking at your fingernails. “I’ll figure it out when it comes to it. We’ve got bigger things on our plate.”

With his shoulder pressed against your own, you let your body relax, your breaths finally even. No tears on the verge of falling down your cheeks – and no fear lacing your veins with a thick coat of adrenaline.

However, that short-lived relief is quickly replaced with the all too familiar crash.

Your head pounds, and your limbs suddenly feel heavy. Your eyelids threaten to close, even though you don’t feel the need to sleep.

“Tired?” Ghost asks, low and soft, careful not to startle you. So at odds with the idea you had of him.

Without meaning to, you lean further against him, using his frame to hold your own up. He doesn’t comment on it. “I’m – just need a minute,” you murmur.

His hand moves to rest at the side of your head, pulling you in so your temple rests against his shoulder. It’s warm, comforting – a parallel to the man of which you thought you hated.

Rest comes easy, at the side of one of the men who wants to kill you.

When you come to, it’s with the feeling of fingers brushing through your hair, and the scent of cajun.

The gentle mid-morning light filters into the room, casting light through your closed eyes, the faraway sound of bullets being fired an odd comfort. Soft sizzling, too, can be heard, as well as the chopping of a knife against a board.

“That smells bloody divine, Si,” a familiar, Scottish voice calls, quietened by what you can only suspect is due to your ‘sleeping’. “Ya’d be a bonnie housewife.”

“Watch it, Johnny,” Ghost replies, stern, even with the undercurrent of humour in his voice.

The fingers in your hair continue to card through your strands, pausing to massage at your scalp every now and then. The movements have you melting further into Soap’s lap.

“Ken the other two are goin’ at it?” Johnny chides, and even without vision, you can see the goading smile on his face.

“I ken you should shut your face,” Ghost retorts, the sound of chopping finally coming to a pause. “And, no, you’re a bloody idiot.”

“Rude.”

Fluttering your eyes open, you let out a small huff of air, stretching your tense muscles. They feel sore with lethargy, and stiff from the position you fell asleep in.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart,” Johnny smirks, looking down at where your head sits in his lap.

When you look towards the kitchen, it's to find Ghost, flipper in hand as he stands by the stove, a glass bowl filled with salad to his side. One thing in particular has you looking twice.

“A bit promiscuous, don't you think, Lieutenant?”

Ghost's eyes narrow, but Soap lets out a pleased chuckle. “Like a lad seein’ an ankle, aye?”

Instead of gloves, the pale skin of his hands is shown for the first time, patterns of ink decorating the back of his hands. The small hint of a sleeve has you desperate to see the full thing.

“You're both fuckin’ ridiculous,” Ghost scoffs, starting to swap the contents of the pan into the salad bowl.

As you move to sit up, Soap’s hands fall to your waist, pulling you so your back presses against his chest. His thumbs trace circles into the skin where your shirt rides up, but it’s more out of instinct than anything else.

“What’d you make us?” You ask, rubbing at your weary, sleepy eyes as you deflate against Soap.

“Cajun chicken ‘nd salad,” Ghost quips, serving up a plate for each of you. It smells nothing short of delicious, and you sit up straighter against the Sergeant.

“Lt and Gaz are our personal chefs,” Soap chimes, squeezing you tighter against him. “Bloody perfect at it.”

Ghost rolls his eyes, but comes over with two plates, setting them on the coffee table in front of both you and Soap. It’s a small space, next to the personal kitchen, but it’s nice. Intimate.

The first mouthful of salad is like heaven on your tongue, and you look up at Ghost with wide eyes as you swallow. “This is amazing.”

“You’d better eat it all then,” he jerks his chin towards your plate, grabbing his own before sitting on the chair to your left. Soap, still with his chest to your back, shovels his food into his mouth like a man starved.

It’s quiet, for a few moments, just the three of you enjoying your food.

“What’s the next step?” Johnny asks, around a mouthful. You elbow him in the side, and he feigns hurt. He swallows, before continuing, “Aye mean, what’re we gonna do? What lead do we follow?”

“I think,” you work your jaw around the words, thinking, “I think if we get to the root, we can bring down the whole tree.”

You scan the two men, and it’s Ghost who understands your words first.

“Shepherd. You think we should take him out first,” Ghost leans back in his seat, studying you with calculating, chocolate brown eyes. They shine in the midday light.

Nodding, you swallow around some lettuce, before continuing, looking between the two.

“If we can find Shepherd, and learn why everything’s happened the way it has,” you rub at your face, “Then we can bring it all crumbling down. Like dominoes.”

“He’s MIA,” Soap furrows his brows, placing his empty plate on the coffee table. “We’ve tried finding the twat – he’s gone.”

You shrug, a plan forming in your mind like the final pieces of a puzzle connecting. A small, pleased smile spreads on your lips, before you’re moving off of the couch, ready to head to Price’s office.

“Where’s you going?” Ghost queries, leaning forward, elbows resting on his spread knees.

You tilt your head.

“Power in numbers, right?” Heading for the corridor, you open the door, before turning back to look at the two men one more time.

“I know two soldiers who’ve been waiting for a call.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee @simp-sentral @littlecellist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @browtfyoudoing @oreo-cream @fanngirl19 @infpt-zylith @marispunk @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @xvintageghostx @thigh-o-saur

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vroomvroomcircuit · 10 months ago

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Big Bird and his Cousins

(A/N): Thank you to @mclarengf for telling me about Big Bird getting shrunk and sharing the twitter thread with me

Summary: A small missing information nearly got Max and Lando into a fistfight aka this is my chance to tell more people about Big Birds eight international cousins

Pairings: driver!reader x f1!grid, but especially Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, Checo, Carlos and Zhou got more of a guest appearing

Wordcount: 1.3k

🏎Masterlist🏎

______________________

Most of the drivers have no problem with driving in the rain. But in a downpour straight from the seven pits of hell? That’s something even Max Verstappen says “no” to.

A considerable amount of the grid stays seated in the conference room, where they just got told that qualifying will be delayed by at least several hours. As soon as they were dismissed, (Y/N) sprinted out of the room, uttering something about a small bladder and long meetings and how they clash in the worst way possible.

“Have you seen what they did to Big Bird from Sesame Street? They made him tiny for the past week!” Lando complains loudly to Carlos while scrolling through his twitter feed. But the Spaniard is confused.

“I don’t know who you are talking about, mate.” He thinks for a second. “Oh, do you mean Caponata? They made her small?!” Carlos’ face lights up, remembering the bird fondly. It’s not something you think about every day, isn’t it?

Lando looks at his friend with a befuddled face . “No, you muppet! Big Bird is a yellow bird that is very tall.” Max, who heard the conversation involuntarily, because the Brit speaks passionately loud about this subject, turns towards the other two drivers.

“I don’t know what kind of off brand Sesame Street you two have watched, but the real name of the tall bird is Pino and Pino is pale blue.” His matter-of-fact voice sets something in Lando off. It just doesn’t sit right with him that Max acts almighty and knowledgeable about a topic he read something himself with his own two eyes.

He gets up from his seat, taxing the Dutchman with a belittling up and down look. “If I was you, I would get my eyes checked, because Big Bird is a bright yellow! Watch out for color blindness.” Max also squares up, getting toe to toe with Lando, getting ready to shoot back. “I can show you how good my eyesight is the next time I’ll drive an orange car with the number four off the track.” “It’s papaya!” Lando pulls up the sleeves to his hoodie, getting ready for a fight that goes beyond spoken words.

“No!” Checo intervenes, putting himself between the two drivers. In the meantime the majority of the remaining people in the room put their attention on the, for now verbally, fighting men. “The name of the bird is Abelardo Montoya and the colors are green, red and a bit of pink. Stop arguing about stuff you know nothing about. Also, I’m older. So I'm right.”

His confident statement attracts the arguments from Max and Lando. “You are absolutely wrong!” “Big Bird is not green!” “No, because Pino is a beautiful blue color!” “Shut it, Verstappen, or I’ll show you the way your skin will bruise a beautiful blue!” “Step away, Norris. You are like 12 and build like a stick. You have not the strength to show me anything.”

“Are you sure? Let’s take this outside and I shove a stick up you a-” “What is going on in the house of commence?” (Y/N)’s voice cuts through the noise sharply. The room falls silent for several seconds until everyone tries to explain themselves at the same time.

“Big Bird is yellow!” “No, his name is Pino and he is pale blue!” “No, she is orange and yellow and is called Caponata!” “No, it’s a green bird, you all know nothing!” “Sh, be quiet, Checo!”

(Y/N) sits down on her chair again and waits for them to get finished scrambling to find an excuse to defend their ego. “Did you ask Pierre what Big Bird looks like for him?” She smirks.

Pierre also smiles knowingly, all eyes on him. “We call our Big Bird Toccata and he is white.” Especially Lando tries to defend himself and his Big Bird another time very loudly. But (Y/N) is having none of it. She put her hand over his mouth, muffling his protests while starting an explanation of her own.

“Did you know that Big Bird has eight international cousins? They are part of Sesame Street from other countries all around the world.” While she starts explaining, Lando’s face drops. “While most versions have a yellow bird like the Big Bird Lando references the whole time, they call them different names. In German he is named Bibo, ask Hülkenberg. In the Netherlands, Brazil and France, they got some versions of Big Bird’s cousins. I think in China they changed his name to the literal translation of Big Bird, but he still counts as one of the cousins. They explain it by calling them identical cousins.”

She throws a look to Zhou, who nods in confirmation and adds “His name is Da Niao”. “The cousins also live in Spain, Portugal and Turkey. Did you not know about this? I thought it was common knowledge. It was all over Twitter a couple of years ago. Now I see the threat every now and then again on tiktok with some minecraft gameplay in the background playing.”

Max mulls over the new information. “This explains everything.” Meanwhile Lando is a bit more shocked. “So I nearly got into a fist fight with Max Verstappen, because someone in some writer’s room decided to give Big Bird cousins and never said anything in the show?”

(Y/N) throws him a confused face. “What do you mean you nearly got into a fist fight? Those are muppets from a kids show! How can you pick a fight over muppets in different colors? They are not even real? In what way does this warrant to get physical?”

Well, if you put it like that, it sounds a bit irrational. Maybe silly even. Of course, no one says this outloud, but the faces all around are enough confirmation for the female driver.

“Gosh, that’s childish. But on the topic of Sesame Street: Have you seen the tweets about Big Bird being shrunk? I need justice for Big Bird!” And so a new discussion starts about the sense behind Big Bird being tiny.

A few hours later the track is cleared again after the storm eventually cleared up. Qualifying can finally start.

The interviews after are relaxed in a way no one expected and most of the newer drivers have never experienced before. Maybe it is the collective relief that qualifying is over without any more delays due to the weather or other problems.

“Coming to the last question,” the journalist closes up her post quali interview with (Y/N), “How did you pass the time until today’s session started? Did all the drivers have another Fifa tournament? Or was it Mario Kart this time?”

The female driver laughs a bit about the joke. “Oh no, not this time. I wouldn’t play Fifa with them anyways, I’m too competitive for that and not good enough at this game at the same time. But I’ll keep the Mario Kart idea in my head for the next skyfall rain. But today I was able to educate the boys on some Sesame Street lore, specifically about Big Bird’s eight international cousins.”

The reporter has a bemused face on. “I never heard of them.” “There is a link on the wiki page regarding Big Bird, dedicated to them. It’s amazing and super cute. Look it up!” (Y/N) winks into the camera.

This is the story of how breaking up a close call to a fist fight between two very stubborn drivers led to (Y/N) being a feature on Sesame Street. And how the trend of #justiceforBigBird across many social media platforms became a thing afterwards.

#x reader #reader insert #f1 fic #f1 x driver!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #x driver!reader

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darkeyessdarkheart · 3 months ago

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Good Luck, Babe

warnings: language, implied smut, 18+

pairing: rhea ripley x fem!reader

word count: 3,291

Alright y’all. Bare with me lmao. I haven’t written in years and I’ve been working 12 hr shifts so I can’t promise it’s my best. But here you are for the 8 people who wanted this! lmao. Any feedback or requests would be great! :)

It was a successful post-Wrestlemania celebration in Philly that night. You and some fellow superstars had heard of a local club and decided to continue your celebrations there after the press conference. Music blared throughout the club causing you to feel as if even your feet were vibrating through your heels. You and Bayley were on the dance floor laughing at your sad attempts at dancing. You’d only had a couple of drinks and were just a little tipsy. “Y/N what are you doing?! You look like you’re seizing!” Bayley leaned in to try to exclaim in your ear.

“It’s not my fault! The only dancing I’m good at involves grinding!” You chuckle back at her. She shakes her head taking another swig of her cocktail before looking back at you, eyes glazed over. “I mean, by all means, if it makes it better than that you can dance on me all you want.”

Bayley and you joked back and forth like this sometimes but your relationship was always platonic. You decided to take her up on her offer, taking your free hand and grabbing her free one as well. Pulling her hand up into the air you spun yourself around and began to seductively sway to the music pushing your back closer to her. “Whoo! Yeah girl, damn I didn’t know you could get down like that!” She exclaims as you rock your hips back and forth while also slowly moving down her body and then back up, making sure to push your butt into her. You both laugh as you continue before suddenly seeing a figure coming to loom over you.

“Hey! Mind if I steal your partner there for a bit?!” You hear the voice and recognize it as the New World Heavyweight Champion. You had known for a bit that Damian had a little crush on you. You’d catch him staring at you during rehearsals and at morning gym sessions. He’d always try to spark conversation with you and would even occasionally join in on your workouts if you were working the same area. Somehow he’d always end up “showing you a better way” or form to do an exercise in what felt like an excuse just to touch you. As if you weren’t a professional athlete with years of experience working out. But you didn’t mind, Damian was a nice and attractive guy after all. “She’s all yours champ!” Bayley said before walking away, being sure to look back at you and suggestively raise her eyebrows.

“You did awesome tonight! How’s it feel to finally be champion?” You leaned in to ask him. “Feels almost as great as you look.” He flirts letting his eyes roam up and down your body in your tight-fitting dress. You reach out to playfully push him laughing, “You’re stupid. Thanks though, you look good too.” You smile up at him. Amid your conversation, you can’t help but look over to the bar behind you and see two piercing blue eyes staring right at you. Rhea.

You and Rhea joined NXT around the same time and immediately clicked. You bonded over your nerdy video game tastes, love of horror movies and animals, and her vast intent on exposing you to heavy metal music. You two became best friends and an even better tag team. You even held the former NXT Women’s Tag Team Championships together for a run. However, it all changed one night after Rhea won her first North American NXT Women’s Championship.

You were in your dressing room screaming at the TV like a maniac. “Come on Rhea!” You yelled watching Rhea getting hit on the top rope. In the last second, she reversed the move hitting Shayna with the riptide from the second turnbuckle and pinning her for the title. You bolted from your dressing room to the gorilla, and down to the ring. You threw your arms around her squeezing her tighter than ever before as the announcer declared her victory. “You did it! I’m so proud of you!!” You pulled back smiling at her and practically jumping up and down. You went to hold her arm up in the air but instead, she scooped you up with her one free arm, causing you to wrap your legs around her waist. You laughed in surprise but just smiled right back at her, staring into her baby blue eyes. The crowd erupted as she held the title up in the air with her other arm all while holding you to her.

You made it back to the gorilla waiting for your chance for another hug once the crowd of individuals that had gathered to congratulate her had dispersed. “I still can’t believe it.” She stated almost breathlessly, still slightly panting as she stared at the gold on her arm. “Thank you for coming out to the ring. You know I love celebrating with you.” She smiled at you. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, I love you so much.” You threw your arms around her neck and pulled her into an embrace. Only this time when you pulled apart, you couldn’t help but stop at a certain point. Your arms remained locked behind her neck and her hands remained steady at the small of your back and waist. You didn’t know what came over you, you leaned in and kissed her.

She must’ve been as surprised as you were judging by her slight jump. The second you felt it you immediately wanted to pull away and apologize, not even understanding why you did what you’d done. The thoughts were squashed instantaneously by the feeling of her kissing you back. It was like no other, the way your lips molded together, the way you moved in perfect synchrony with each other, how soft and perfect her lips felt. The first tender kiss slowly turned into more as you felt her tongue piercing run softly across your lower lip as she tried to gain access to your mouth. You couldn’t help but accept, allowing the kiss to become deeper and passionate. Your tongues slipped in and out of each other’s mouths with every movement. The moment came to an end all too soon when you both heard footsteps approaching and jumped apart.

Rhea was quickly busy with another superstar coming up to congratulate her. You used this as your excuse to bolt back to your dressing room. You slammed the door leaning your back against it, panting from pure adrenaline. What did you just do?! Rhea was your best friend for fuck’s sake. You had only ever been in relationships with men your entire life. You thought you’d had good experiences with guys, but that kiss. That was incomparable. You’d never felt such passion and dare you admit it, desire in just a kiss. Had you not been interrupted you were unsure how far you would’ve been willing to take that situation. You shook your head putting your head in your hands, not knowing what was wrong with you. Of course, you loved Rhea, how could you not? She’s gorgeous, funny, caring, and you have so many memories together. But did you love her? Or were you just caught up in the moment?

Surely, after all this time you would’ve known if you were into her, right? Your brain was running 100 miles a minute, completely unsure of what to think or do next. The only clear thought you had was you had to get away. You changed out of your ring gear faster than ever, changed into a baggy hoodie and sweats, pulling your hood over your head in an attempt to hide yourself. You grabbed your bag and headed out to your car and drove home.

Rhea blew up your phone that night trying to call you, text you, facetime you, hell she was even emailing you. You couldn’t bear to hear her voice and own up to what you had done. You were deleting her first at least 100 texts quickly, trying to not even read them. Only seeing glimpses of certain ones as you did so.

Rhea🖤: Y/N, what the hell?

Rhea🖤: Where are you??

Rhea🖤: We need to talk!

Rhea🖤: Call me back now.

Rhea🖤: This isn’t funny Y/N.

Rhea🖤: Answer the damn phone!

Rhea🖤: If you don’t answer, I swear to god I’m gonna bloody lose it Y/N.

You couldn’t even comprehend the idea of speaking to her in any shape or form in this state. Eventually, you decided to block her phone number. You told yourself it would be temporary, just until you were able to clear your mind. To understand why you did this and what your feelings truly were for your best friend. However days passed, you managed to successfully avoid her at shows despite hearing the gossip of her adamantly looking for you backstage at every single one.

Your call up from Smackdown couldn’t have come at a better time. You decided this promotion was the perfect opportunity to extend your sabbatical with Ripley. You’d figure it out eventually, you told yourself.

Present

You and Rhea hadn’t properly spoken in a very long time. In what seemed like divine intervention to you, you always ended up on the opposing show. Only having to be around one another at certain pay per views throughout the years. However, thanks to avoidance and always making sure at least one other superstar was in the room with you, you never managed to be fully alone with Rhea. You were polite of course, casual, but you never allowed the conversation to get too intense before ditching. In the instances you were around one another you’d feel her doing what she was doing now. Eyeing you down, as if she was trying to read you. Trying to understand why you were so willing to throw away everything you had together. All just because you refused to admit your true feelings.

You felt your breath catch your throat but tried to instantly regain your composure, looking back up at Priest. “You wanted to dance, let’s dance!” You squeal at him causing him to chuckle at you. You begin to dance together but all the while all you can feel is what feels like lasers beaming right at your face. Rhea was at the bar with Bianca and Jade, ordering another round and talking amongst themselves. However, Rhea wasn't remotely interested. She was captivated by you.

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

You forced yourself to turn around not wanting to feel her eyes directly on your face. Continuing to sway to the music you push your back around Priest, seductively grinding on him. Closing your eyes you tried to distract yourself from the thoughts of wishing you were dancing like this on the woman across the room. You knew at this point what you wanted but it felt as if it had been too long. Not to mention the thought still petrified you. The idea of further ruining the perfect friendship you’d tossed aside. All because you were a coward.

And guess I’m the fool

Finally, you turn back around, planning on telling Damian you were too drunk and should head back to your hotel. Even though you knew you were fine. As you did so you noticed her beginning to head into the crowd, beeling straight to you and Priest. Oh God. Your heart began to race and your stomach felt as if it had dropped to your ass. Your mind was running through every possible scenario to try to get out of this oncoming shit storm. You did the first comprehensive thing that came to your mind, standing up on your tiptoes in your heels, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing his lips down onto yours. Damian immediately accepted, holding your face in his large hands as you moved your lips together.

The black haired Australian stopped in her tracks as she saw what you were doing.

You can kiss 100 boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You were trying to put your all into the kiss. Anything to try to show Rhea you weren’t interested in her. It felt as if you were trying to put on some elaborate performance but you couldn’t stop yourself. You had your hands on top of his then began to grab his shirt, pulling him as close to you as possible. Priest put his hands on top of yours pulling back, “Woah Y/N, I think you’ve had a bit too much muñeca. I’d love to, but not like this.”

All while Damian is gently “letting you down” she finally reaches you, breaking out into a toothy grin. “Hey mate, Y/N, you doing okay? You don’t look so great.” She feigns concern looking you up and down but you know each other too well. You’d spent more than a couple nights out together and she knew your tolerance was way higher than you were portraying. “I’m fine.” You answer quickly, almost too quickly. Damian looks at both of you assessing the situation, clearly unsure of what to do. No matter what else you tried to look at around the room you kept somehow locking eyes with her again. Those light blue orbs taking your breath away every time. “Rhea, you mind helping get Y/N back? You don’t mind right, Y/N?”

Before you can even protest, she interrupts. “Of course mate. I’ll text you when I get her in. Have fun tonight champ!” She grabs your wrist and starts leading you out of the club, shouting at Priest over her shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You’re trying to pull out of her grip but are unsuccessful each time. She didn’t answer, keeping her eyes pointed towards the exit of the club.

At the last second, she turns, leading you towards the hallway where the bathrooms were. “Rhea, seriously let me go! What are you doing?!” You attempt to exclaim once but she continues to ignore you, just dragging you along.

You reach the bathroom and she opens the door dragging you inside. You look around expecting a multi-stall facility but instead find yourself in a very tight space with the woman you’ve avoided for so long.

“The better question is, what are you doing Y/N?” She turns around finally making eye contact with you again. Your eyes dart once again trying to avoid the intensity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say as your eyes finally settle on a particular piece of graffiti on the wall in front of you. “Yes, you do. You’ve dodged me for years. You don’t want to be around me, fine. But really? You’re gonna try to act like you’re something you’re not?” She shakes her head, her eyes squinting as she looks you up and down as if she was trying to piece you back together in her mind.

“You’re being ridiculous. If Priest wants to pursue me, why shouldn’t I let him?” You cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to subconsciously put a barrier between you and her.

You can say it’s just the way you are

Make another excuse, another stupid reason

“This isn’t what you want, Y/N.” Rhea grabs your chin forcing you to look at her. Your heart is pounding so hard it feels as if it could burst out of you at any moment. You felt a lump in your throat as hard as a stone. The cold feeling of her rings touching your skin would normally make you jump but they felt amazing against your now blazing red skin.

“You may tell yourself that kiss never happened. Bloody hell, you probably have to tell yourself that every day. I bet you think about it all the time.” You felt as if she was rubbing your biggest mistake in your face. You go to smack her hand away, “Stop it, Rhea, it was years ago. I was in the moment and I overstepped. It meant noth-“

She cuts you off, taking you by surprise by pushing herself up against you against the wall, her hands next to both sides of your head. You can’t help the audible small gasp that leaves your mouth. “Tell me you don’t want this.” She whispers as she inches her face towards yours. You gulp.

Good luck, babe.

Well, good luck, babe.

She takes one of her hands and grips your jaw forcing you to look at her. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

You inhale deeply through your nose. Your body was covered in goosebumps yet somehow still felt like it was on fire. Feeling her strong body up against yours was causing your mind to blank. You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of her chest moving against yours with each deep breath you took.

In that moment you felt your once strong front begin to dissipate. “Rhea, I-“ You try to start but the ball in your throat causes your voice to catch. You look up at the ceiling feeling tears prickling at your eyes. “I do want you. I want you more than anything.” The tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you continue.

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” You whisper to yourself. Seeing your tears Rhea backed up slightly, taking one hand and gently wiping at some of the tears. “You’re not an idiot baby.” She softly spoke, leaving her hand to rest on your cheek.

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship but I-“ You open your mouth inhaling deeply then exhaling, trying to stop crying. “I did.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me Y/N? We’d been close for so long. Nothing could and would ever ruin what we have. As friends or, as more.” She enunciates the last part, her Aussie accent thick.

You shake your head, wishing you had a reasonable answer for her. “I don’t know.”

She sighs, pulling you to her in a tight embrace. You exhale, wrapping your arms around her. She holds the back of your head stroking your hair softly. Of course, she’d remember. That was always something she’d do for you whenever you were stressed or upset.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You whisper, squeezing her as tight as you possibly could inhaling her familiar scent.

You’re the first to pull away but remain still, keeping her close. Rhea looks down at you wiping the last remaining tears away. Only now do you notice the tear stains where makeup once was on her face.

Despite the messy makeup, disheveled hair, and groggy voices from crying you couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous she looked.

“Rhea?” You ask softly. “Y/N?” She responds looking into your eyes.

“You’re right. I haven’t stopped thinking about this.” You sigh, shaking your head slightly then grabbing her face in your hands and smashing your lips together. It was as if no time had passed.

The same fire and passion from the first kiss immediately reignited. She reached around your body, holding your lower back and gripping your ass with the other. You moaned softly at the feeling allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth.

You reached your hands out grabbing every part of her that you could reach. From her long black hair, to her waist using her metal chain belt to pull her even closer.

She pulls away and you almost whine. “Come on you, we’re going to the hotel. I’m gonna show what else I’ve been thinking about since that kiss.”

#rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea

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ldysmfrst · 3 months ago

Text

American Mate (12) - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 12 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 9,756

Work count for Story: 86,779

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, possessiveness, angst, minor mentions of past trauma, and self-doubt.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Can you do that?

Can you give them a chance?

Yoongi has more than once said that he would protect you, and now he seems also to want to protect you from his pack if they overstep. Is that something you should be worried about? Could you really ask him to stand against his pack for you? No, not really.

Then again, they are already protective of you– like all of them. They want others, non-pack mates, to know that you are theirs. If this morning was any example of them being protective or possessive, does it get more or less dramatic from here?

Are they just words they will use, or are they actions, too?

You are special to them. Jin told you this during your non-date date and made a change in the contract. The rest of the pack is drawn to you and finds ways to get close to you, seemingly without your knowledge. But oddly enough, you are not offended that they are doing such a thing.

The bigger question is, what will they show you off as?

As of right now, you are only you.

You will find your answers over the next few weeks – you have to.

“Prime Alpha? Luna is ready for us to return to the conference room,” Derik informs him with a smile as he takes in the stressed appearance and scents of those in the breakroom. Knowing these Alphas are mated to his Luna calms his heart and his Beta.

“Thank you,” Namjoon says as he moves to leave.

Yoongi bolts from the room faster than the rest as his Alpha tries to claw his way out from being separated from you. At this point, he could care less about following any kind of protocol. His only goal is to make sure you are alright since he was not around to protect you.

Jungkook flits between wanting to go after Yoongi and wanting to respect his Prime Alpha. Unlike Yoongi, he knows he cannot test Namjoon the way Yoongi, Seokjin, and even Taehyung can.

“Joonie.” Jin calls, pointing to the fidgeting youngest mate, which causes both of the remaining older Alphas to smile.

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, gaining his attention with wide doe-like eyes. “You can go ahead. Make sure Yoongie-hyung is allowing our new mate space to breathe. We will follow.”

Breaking into a big toothy smile, Jungkook nods rapidly with his bunny ears flopping along. He takes off down the hall without a glance back, leaving Derik, Namjoon, and Seokjin chuckling.

“Common, let us go and see if everything has settled with your Luna, Derik,” Seokjin says, taking Namjoon’s arm and pulling him along. He is just as excited as he is worried about the answer.

Walking down the hall, the conference room door is still open, and the scent of vanilla and sweet peas soothes the frazzled nerves of the Bangtan packmates as they reenter.

At this point, the Director has moved to the head of the table, and Derik moves to an empty seat next to him. Y/n is sitting with Yoongi to her right, Taehyung to her left, and Jungkook standing behind her with Jimin and Hoseok on each side.

Not wanting to crowd her anymore, Jin and Namjoon return to their seats and smile at the sight of their mates. All of them happily talk together, and all of them touch each other in some way.

You rest your good hand on Jungkook’s while it is resting on your shoulder as you talk to Yoongi. Yoongi has his tail wrapped around you again but is leaning against Jimin. Hoseok runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair while listening to him talk about what happened this morning. In the meantime, Jimin is holding onto Taeyung’s hand.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Seokjin whispers to Namjoon. “ I’d say she was already bonded with all of them.”

Before Namjoon can reply, Manager Sejin enters the room with a stack of papers in hand, “Well, the contract has been finalized with BigHit, and I have everyone's copy with me. Prime Alpha, do you want me to keep the pack’s contract in the main binder?”

Namjoon’s eyes crinkle into small slits as his posture visibility drops in relaxation as he hears the news. Looking at you after, he says, “You signed.”

You return his smile; this time, it reaches your eyes as you nod your head, “Yes, Prime Alpha, I signed. I had some worries,” you glance at the three you kept behind, “but your pack is very convincing.”

That breaks the gate for celebrations all around. All you can do is giggle as the group of Alphas acts like clowns with funky dancing, shouting, and hugs.

“Well then, I’d hate to disrupt the mood, but Mr. Gulley and I must return to work,” Director Johnson announces as he and Derik stand to leave.

You also stand, “Thank you for your time, Director. I will maintain reports to you as required. Also, if the new girl needs any advice or help, please let her know to give me a call.”

“No worries, Luna. She is doing great, but we will keep that in mind. You just worry about healing and seeing where this,” Derek points around the room at the Bangtan pack, “all goes.”

“I think I have no choice but to heal,” you respond, shaking your braced hand at him with a chuckle. However, the look on Derik’s face makes you slightly falter because his eyes are reflective, making you think he is talking about something other than your hand.

After those two leave, Manager Sejin announces that he has arranged to have food delivered to the pack house soon since it is past lunchtime. This prompts everyone to head out to the vans.

Like the last time you left the office, you find yourself stuck in the middle, but the whole pack is present this time. Everyone has started talking in smaller group conversations that you end up just listening to, as most of it is in Korean.

One thing is certain: your Korean should improve by the time you finish the contract. The thought causes you to sigh to yourself and catch Jimin's attention.

“You okay?” Jimin asks, coming to walk by your side.

“Yeah, everything is going to be okay. Just realizing that I will need to brush up on my Korean more to keep up with everyone but other than that I am actually okay,” you smile.

“That’s good. You can also help us with our English. Remember, if we are ever too much, which we will be, you can always go to your den. That is your space, and we will only enter if you request us to or if we think you are in danger,” he says with a seriousness that resembles your time with him on the balcony.

“I will and I will follow the same respect with each of your dens.”

Exiting the elevator, which surprisingly held all of you, the boys come to a stop. Glances are passed between everyone, and some are glaring at the vans.

“What’s wrong?” you ask them with a sigh. You hope they are still not holding on to what happened this morning, but Taehyung won’t meet your gaze, and you are pretty sure it is still the issue.

“Do you guys still have an issue with James?”

“No, we don’t,” responds Namjoon, to which you raise your eyebrow. “Mr. Green is fine, and we will be fine with him as one of our drivers.”

“So what’s with all the glances and glares?”

“Sugar, the vans only fit five passengers,” Jungkook says as if you should know what that means.

“Yeah, I know. There are eight of us, so we have to split up. We did that before,” you say with slight confusion. “Can we not do that again?”

“What our youngest isn’t saying, Princess, is that everyone wants to be in the van you are in.” Yoongi clarifies, which makes you blush slightly.

“So what do we do? Play rock, paper, scissors?” You say jokingly. Only they don’t see it as a joke, immediately turning into a circle and standing at the ready. “Wait! You aren’t really gonna do that, are you?”

“To be honest, it is the fairest thing to do,” Taehyung says. “However, I get an automatic seat because I am in service to you, right Namjoon-hyung?”

“True, he has to stay with you. However, the rest of us will play gawi, bawi, bo, which is the Korean version of your game of luck. Everyone ready?” Namjoon asks, and everyone nods.

“Taehyungie, call it out.”

After a hysterical match, your van ends up with Jimin and Namjoon. To your surprise, the driver is James. Before you can say hello or get in the van, Taehyung walks up to James and bows, “I am sorry for my rudeness this morning, Mr. Green. I was not aware of your friendship with Miss Y/n.”

James happily accepted the apology but still seemed stiff around you. You don’t blame him for how things went down. Though, you do hope that he will relax around you again. Maybe he will when he doesn’t have a tiger hybrid looking like he is still about to hunt him down still.

Getting in the van, you sit in one of the swivel chairs, only to be pulled onto the bench seat with Taehyung to your left. Glancing at him, you can see that his face is trying to be relaxed, but the thinness of his lips gives him away.

“Still feeling possessive, Taehyung?”

His eyes widen at your question, “Sorry, I struggle with that often, especially when there is someone new to the pack. Are you okay with this? I mean, with me sitting here?”

You glance at Namjoon and Jimin, who are observing. You know, somehow, that if you had a problem with the seating arrangement, either would switch in a heartbeat.

“The driver doesn’t know about the agreement, and even though he signed an NDA, you can never be too cautious, but if you require me to kneel,” Taehyung glances at the open petition, his voice soft as not to carry. “I would kneel as ordered.”

Returning your gaze to Taehyung, you consider his words. He is right. Unfortunately, some people don’t follow the NDAs, and you don’t know James that well yet. There is no promise that Taehyung’s submissive behaviors won't get out to the wrong people.

“No, this is fine besides you need to wear a seatbelt.” You agree but decide to clarify: “For safety reasons, I would like to modify the Acts agreement when dealing with transportation. I propose that you sit behind me, and if no seat behind me is available, you will sit to my left. Are the modifications acceptable?”

“As you wish,” Taehyung agrees. His posture still remains slightly stiff as he buckles up. He doesn’t think you fully understand your position, but you will in time.

“Ooohoo, it is always a treat to see a tamed tiger every once in a while,” Jimin smiles, and you giggle.

Tamed tiger, your ass.

He is stronger and an Alpha, and nothing is tame about him. Even so, his choice to be put in this position is entirely on him. You are sure there are 100 different things he could do to get out of having to be like this with you, but for some reason, he didn’t argue about it.

Trying to avoid that thought process, you redirect the conversation, “I told Yoongi that I wanted to get him and Taehyung a bell because they are both sneaky. Jungkook is sneaky, too. If it weren’t for your manager, I would have been so upset with Thumper and Kisa when they hid from me.”

When Yoongi’s nickname is used, Taehyung and Namjoon start chuckling. You get slightly embarrassed thinking that maybe you should only use the nicknames when talking with the corresponding person.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” Namjoon says. “We are just remembering how excited he was to tell us you gave him a pet name.”

“Oh, I am glad he is excited and not ashamed.” You smile, still making a mental note to talk to them about when it would be acceptable to use your names for them.

“Trust me, Hyung is not one to keep quiet about something he doesn’t like,” Jimin adds. “He can be kind of rude about it sometimes, but he will also apologize right after.”

“Good to know the jaguar is hot-tempered like a normal feline. Gotcha.” You shake your head and smile. “Are you also hot-tempered, Taehyung?”

“Could you not tell this morning?” he snarkily replies.

“Miss Y/n,” Namjoon calls your attention.

“Namjoon, you are stuck with me for the next two months, and the rest of the pack has dropped the formalities with me, and I with them for the most part. You can too, if you want to,” you offer.

That pulls a smile from Namjoon, “I would like that. I do have something that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” You sit back in your seat more and turn to face him fully.

Taehyung has angled himself in the corner while his tail brushes your arm slightly, his eyes also on the Prime Alpha. Jimin has also rotated the chair to face Namjoon as the van becomes quieter.

“Well… ah… now the contract is signed,” Namjoon licks his lips and glances at the other two hybrids. “You went on your date with Seokjin-hyung. Did you think it went well?”

“Hyung,” says Taehyung with a sneer. “You know it went well. I heard you and Jinnie-hyung talk about it after they got home.”

You put your hand on Taehyung’s knee, which shocked him. You answer, “Yes, Namjoon. It went well. I have never had an experience like that. It was nice to get to know Jin. I am sorry, was I supposed to report that to you?”

“Oh no. You don’t have to report anything like that to me. I was just,” Namjoon pauses. “Y/n, I want you to accompany me tomorrow night.”

“Oh, of course,” you respond, pulling out your phone to enter the request into your calendar. Part of being a Playmate means that each Bangtan Packmate is able to request you, and it’s more on a first-come, first-served basis.

“What times are you requesting? I think Hoseok was wanting to request time tomorrow with some of the others as well but I didn’t get a time frame from him. Maybe you can join?”

Looking at the calendar, you notice how blank it is right now. Your life is so simple. Each day is practically clear, but you have a feeling it's about to get filled quickly.

You hear snickering coming from Taehyung. “Hyung, that isn’t how you ask a lady out.”

“Ask out?” Then it hits you. Namjoon wants his not-date date with you to be tomorrow. Looking up from your phone, you see the Prime Alpha, the Alpha Wolf, blushing.

“Yah! I was getting there,” Namjoon sighs. Clearly flustered with the situation.

“Namjoon,” you sweetly say his name. “Are you asking me to join you like I did with Seokjin?”

Another sigh leaves the Alpha sitting before you, “Yes, but it would be in the evening. You would have time to spend with Hoseok-hyung in the morning. Maybe.”

Namjoon straightens his back, causing you to do the same, and looks at you, “Y/n, would you please be my date to the LACMA Gala tomorrow night? It would be an honor to have you by my side, not only to get to know you better but to show you to the world.”

“You want me to go to the LACMA Gala? With you? There will be paparazzi there, and it’s a Gala. A huge, fancy, very publicized Gala!” While you were ready for another swanky dinner, you were not ready for an event as publicized and extravagant as this.

After taking your phone and passing it to Jimin, Namjoon holds your hands in his, sending out his vanilla and leather scent in hopes of calming your nerves.

“Y/n, there will be cameras, but there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that would stop me from having you by my side. I have arranged for gowns to be brought to the pack house, as well as make-up and hair noonas to help prepare you,” informs Namjoon without any hesitation.

“Hyung is going to take care of you, Y/n,” Jimin voices. “You will be treated like a royalty. If there are too many cameras too soon, we can arrange something so that you don’t have to walk the carpet. But you are going to have to get used to cameras eventually. It's hard not to when you are around us.”

“Are you sure you want to be pictured with me? Like at all?” You question Namjoon, but look at everyone in the van. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”

Growls resound through the van, causing you to jump slightly, but Namjoon only holds your hands tighter, “Y/n, I thought Hoseok covered this earlier, but let me remind you… Bangtan Pack does not allow for any self-deprecation.”

Shit.

“I… I wasn’t. I was worried about Army,” you scramble to cover what you said. “They don’t know you have a new playmate, and it may cause a backlash.”

“Nice try. We smelled your scent tinge like perfume when he brought up the fact that it was a Gala, which means you are worried about getting your photo taken, how to behave, or what to wear,” points out Taehyung.

“I know how to behave at a Gala. My mother used to make me go to them all the time. That is the easy part. I was worried about the attire and the photos but also Army.” You defend yourself. “I know how much they mean to you all.”

“Let us worry about the fans. I am sure Manager Sejin and PD-nim have a press release ready to send. Our true Army will be happy for us, and those who don’t will have to deal with it,” Jimin adds.

“We have everything covered. We have been working on everything since the day you greeted us, as Hobi-hyung said,” continues Jimin. “Let Namjoon-hyung escort you to the Gala, please?”

You are amazed at the confidence the three Alphas before you have regarding this very public event. More so, the intonation that you are more valuable, maybe more so than their Army, sends a slight tingle up and down your spine.

“Alright. I trust you three.” Focusing back on Namjoon, you smile. “Namjoon, I would be honored to be your plus one at the Gala.”

The rest of the afternoon was relatively simple. Everyone ate the late lunch together and then broke off into different activities. The maknae line decided to play video games while Jin and Hoseok were watching. Namjoon and Yoongi decided to work on some new tracks.

You decided that it was a good time to unpack. With everything signed now, there wasn’t this hovering anxiety that they would suddenly shove you out the door.

You left the door open a crack in case anyone needed you or for when they would call for dinner later. Supposedly, Jungkook was to cook tonight. You would have to learn their cooking and cleaning rotations to see where you could help them or squeeze your way into a slot.

As a child who spent a lot of time alone, you tended to listen to music while doing things. You put on your Pandora, mainly listening to Alternative and American Pop music from your youth and K-pop.

Currently, you were rocking out and dancing, as much as you could, to God’s Menu between re-folding the clothes you dumped out of your luggage bag Jin let you borrow.

Unknown to you, Taehyung had lost at the video game and came looking for you since it was his “punishment” to help you. Hearing the music coming from your room, he figured you were just relaxing. He looked through the crack in the door to watch your body move to Felix’s part.

It became a mini battle within himself to watch you.

He loved how your body moved, even when you had a miss-step. Your musicality was pretty spot on, and your voice was cute when you tried to hit the epically low notes for which the blonde-haired Stray Kids member was known for.

He knew he could watch and listen to you for hours.

However, he was jealous that you were dancing to Stray Kids and now to the song One by Astro. Why were these not BTS songs?

He wants to hear you sing their songs.

He wants you to be Army.

He wants to watch you move to the sound of his voice in more ways than one– preferably while under him.

It wasn’t until It’s Gonna Be Me from N*Sync came on that he couldn’t stay away. He knew this one, and it wasn't a rival K-pop band. When the chorus hit, he pushed open the door and joined in your dancing and singing.

“But I'm not like them. Baby, when you finally get to love somebody, Guess what?” he croons along with the boy band and dances his way to you.

“Taehyung!” you exclaim, shocked at the hybrid tiger’s entrance and intense look.

Pulling you close at the end of the chorus, he looks you in the eyes and sings, “It's gonna be me.”

You would freeze in your step, but the ‘lady’ that your mother trained into you keeps moving.

“Keep dancing with me, Y/n. You have great rhythm, and it looks like you know a few different choreographies,” he comments, hoping you will allow him a few more moments of your body moving with his.

“Oh no. I just play around with what I have seen.” Then it hits you… he said a few. Pulling out of his hold, you back up to your phone and pause the music, “How long were you watching me?”

Biting the inside of his cheek at his misstep, he says, “Just two songs. Astro and Stray Kids. Really? No BTS songs?”

You smile softly, thinking this could go one of two ways. Either he will understand that you do like BTS but that they weren't in your Top 3, or he will get possessive because you’re his Playmate and had better like BTS.

“There are BTS songs. Like Zero O’Clock, Run, ah um… Oh, I have Rainy Days and Arson too,” you scramble to list the titles of songs you think deal with BTS. Silently hoping to mention his song gave you bonus points.

Your response grants you a smile from him, “Alright. One of these days, I want to hear you sing one of our songs.”

“Ah, no, thank you. I don’t sing,” you say as you return to folding clothes. Wait, these look already folded.

Damn.

“You sounded pretty good to that Astro song. I am sure Eunwoo would appreciate your rendition of his part,” he says, joining your side and folding clothes.

“Not gonna happen. Like I will ever get a chance even to meet a member of Astro, that is if Astro still will stay together after everything,” you said absent-mindedly, rubbing the memorial tattoo for Moonbin on your arm.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks, noting the sadness in your voice and the hint of mold in your scent.

Glancing up at the man next to you, you see the concern on his face, and his ears are trained on you. Smiling through the sadness of the industry's loss of such a talented person, you nod, “Moonbin’s passing still kinda hits me hard, ya know?”

“He was my first bias, I guess you could say.”

Holding back a growl at the idea of you liking someone else as your bias, Taehyung wraps his tail around your thigh to show comfort– not possession.

While he wasn’t close to Moonbin, they were all acquaintances because Kookie and Eunwoo were close. A death in the industry hits everyone hard because they all know how hard it is.

“Facebook showed me an ad for True Beauty, starting with Cha Eunwoo, which led me to find out about Astro and, in turn, Moonbin. His dancing was on point, his voice soothing, and his looks were unique in their beauty. I wouldn’t know much more about the industry or Korea if it wasn’t for him.”

“When he passed away, a bunch of Aroha designed this tattoo,” you pull up your shirt, showing your side and the purple crescent moon with the Astro band’s star logo.

“That is a great way to honor him,” Taehyung says as he traces the outline, which shudders your body.

Dropping your shirt back down and blushing, you pick up your clothes and put them away. “What is it that you need?”

“Well, you should be sitting and telling me where to put those. Remember,” he points to himself. “Servant for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that part. Umm… well, can you hang up those up and give Seokjin the luggage cases back, please?” you ask.

“You got it, but I think his intent was giving them to you,” the tiger says, moving to do as you requested.

“Oh. He doesn’t need to give me his stuff. I have a smaller set that I can use for now. If I need to buy something bigger later then I will.”

“Who’s buying something bigger?” says Hoseok from the doorway. “Are we going shopping? You know you need me there if we are gonna shop.”

Coming out of the closet, Taehyung smirks, “Your Doll thinks she is gonna get away with buying a new luggage set for when we move cities.”

You scoff at him. What does he mean you think, you know. There is no thinking going on.

“Oh, a luggage buy, that is a Jinnie-hyungie department. He likes everyone having the same set in their color of choice. You better talk to him first,�� advises Hoseok.

“I am perfectly fine with getting my own. It doesn’t have to match anything,” you grumble to yourself; like hell, you will be able to afford to buy a matching set.

“Ahuh, yeah, sure I will let him know you need to talk, Y/n. I'm going to give these back to him and see if there are any plans for tonight, and then I'll be back. Is that okay?” Taehyung asks, his hands full of empty cases.

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s late though, I think I might just get something small to eat then head to bed,” you say.

“I will tell him you are hungry too,” notes Taehyung, and out the door he goes before you can stop him.

Seriously, you just said you might eat.

Restacking the clothes in the open drawer, your mind wanders off to how you might have to watch everything you say because it seems like someone has something to do with it, no matter what you say.

“Doll?” Hoseok calls for your attention. “Out of all of us, Seokjin is the most caring. He basically is our Luna, and with that, he makes sure to feed the pack and he ensures we have everything we need. That includes you now, too.”

“I know. I mean, like, I know, but I don’t know.” You let out a slight whine as you shut the drawer and walk back to the bed. “I know because I have been told, but I have never had someone who would take that role with me.”

“I am Luna of the pack. I am the friend who stops the fights, even if they get physical. I am the one to buy things for people in need,” you tell Hoseok.

Taking a seat next to you, Hoseok smiles his bright sunshine smile. “Doll, you can relax now. You have seven mates all looking to spoil you silly.”

“Seven mates that are bonded to each other, you mean?” you correct his statement, which causes him to panic internally because he didn’t even notice his slip-up.

“Bonded or not, you are part of our pack for now. So much so that I heard you have a Gala to attend tomorrow.”

“Yep.” You pop the ‘p.’ “Namjoon apparently wants to introduce me to the world.”

“As he should. The Prime Alpha should be the first person to be seen with you in public. It’s his honor to have that privilege,” says Hoseok.

You nod in agreement. It's odd to think that doing anything with you would be a privilege or an honor, but hybrids have their own culture towards that stuff.

“I know that I mentioned spending time with you and a few others tomorrow.” He puts his hand up just as to snap to him with an apology on your lips.

“We would still like to spend time with you tomorrow. The team of noonas that will get you ready will come around 11 am so we can have breakfast together and help you get ready for your debut,” he excitedly tells you.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you for understanding, Hoseok,” you say as you lean against him.

“Of course, doll,” he says, loosely wrapping his arms around your shoulders, allowing you to pull away if you didn’t want the skinship. When you relax more into his hold, he can’t help but chatter quietly in happiness.

The rest of the night is simple.

Jin orders food for everyone because you are hungry now and wouldn’t listen to you saying you could just have some fruit, telling you that fruit is a snack and not a proper meal. Also, allowing the youngest to cook would “take too long.”

He also makes you sit with him to order you a new matching suitcase set in a deep purple. He refuses to let you pay him back, nor will he tell you how much it costs.

All of Bangtan is amused by your interactions and the thought that you still believe you have any choice in matters involving Jin and his deep-seated need to care for others.

When you woke up the following day, you found yourself lying on top of Jimin and Jungkook’s body pillows, with Hoseok’s pillow under your head, Yoongi’s pillow between your knees, and Namjoon’s blanket covering you.

You had no idea how you got from where you started to where you were, but someone must have carried you to bed since you last remembered watching some Marvel movie.

Fluffing the pillow under your head a bit, you frown. Something feels off. Maybe you should get your own bedding soon. The ones the boys gave you are starting to feel like they aren’t enough. It’s not that they are flat, but they just feel off.

It doesn’t surprise you, though. Back at your place, your coat closet is more like a linen closet just for blankets and pillows that Evie’s family and your pack keep rotating in and out for you.

After washing your face and throwing on a tank top with a built-in bra and yoga pants, you start to break down your blanket fort, smelling each one along the way to see if it needs to be washed before you return it.

Knock knock

“Come in, I am up,” you call to whoever is on the other side of the door.

Glancing at the opening door, you are greeted by a sleepy-looking shirtless Taehyung, who zombie walks over to you and promptly falls face-first on your pile of folded bedding.

“Tae, I just folded those. If you are so tired, why are you down here?” you question, pulling some of the blankets out from under him.

“Because a certain rabbit told me my Mistress was awake and moving around too much,” he says, grabbing the blanket and pulling, which effectively pulls you down with it.

Grappling you like an octopus, Taehyung makes you lay with him. With one eye open, he asks, “Why are you up at 7 am?”

Mind you, he completely ignored the shrieking epp sound coming from you as he maneuvered you to where he wanted you, which caused a stampede to come running down the hall.

Meanwhile, all you could do was try not to die.

Your mind short-circuiting at the fact the stoic, possessive tiger-turned-koala now has his legs intertwined with yours, his nose pressed into your hair as he buries your face into his non-shirt-covered chest.

“Sugar?” comes Jungkook, leading the mini stampede into your room only to come to a dead stop and get hit from behind by Jimin. Both are now gapping at the image of your entwined bodies.

“What the…” breathed Jimin as he noticed your tank top had ridden up, allowing them a glimpse of your lower back and some kind of purple ink on your right side.

“You said Y/n was awake and now I am making her go back to sleep. It’s only 7 am. That is no time to break down a nest,” muttered Taehyung as he attempted to pull you even closer.

“Y/n, why are you breaking down your nest?” asked Jimin, stepping around Jungkook. His eyes take in the almost put-away nest, his memories trying to take over his mind. “Taehyung, who said you could be in her nest without permission too!”

“Minnie-hyung, it’s okay. She isn’t in trouble. You aren’t in trouble,” Jungkook says, pulling Jimin into a hug as his scent starts souring.

“Taehyung! Let me at least look at them to talk to them,” you command as you try to turn around with your eyes closed while trying not to touch the firm expanse of chest before you.

Reluctantly, he loosens his hold and helps you maneuver to make you the little spoon to his big spoon. Burying his nose in the back of your neck and shoulder, he breathes deeply, allowing your sweet pea and vanilla scent to soak in.

It’s then that he realizes that you have a tank top on. Nothing stands as a barrier between him and your pure morning scent at your neck. There are faint traces of some of the pack on you from the bedding, but it’s very faint compared to your natural, untainted scent.

Your skin feels warm against his face and under his arm from where your tank has moved. He melts into that feeling of warmth and belonging.

You belong in his arms, even if you don’t know it yet.

“It’s a habit to put away and make my bed every morning, mother’s rules. That and I figured that you guys might want your things back. I can ask Derek or Evie to bring over some of my bedding or buy new ones,” you say in an attempt to calm Jimin.

“It is also about time some of it gets washed, Jimin. I just don’t want to make a bad impression on you guys,” you continue to focus on the now teary-eyed red panda.

“You don’t,” Jimin starts before he pauses to wipe his eyes. “Sorry...” he clears his throat. “You can keep your nest up all year if you want to. No one will make you break it if you don’t feel the need to.”

“Oh, it’s not a nest,” you smile and giggle. “It’s just bedding. Like a mountain of fluffiness with amazing smells.”

A low growl from the base of your neck vibrates through your body from the hybrid behind you, “It is a nest.”

Moving to lean over you, Taehyung pulls you to lay on your back. “You have scented bedding from each mate of Bangtan that you surround yourself with every night.”

Jungkook sits next to your head, looking down at you, “You couldn’t sleep until you were surrounded by us, so to speak. Your instincts only settled once you smelt the pack.”

Your mind kind of blimps out at the mention of instincts settling. You always knew the scents were important to you but that’s just because you associated them with good things. So, why would the pack’s scents already be a good thing for you to relax into?

“My previous owners used to make me sleep without a nest,” Jimin says. “If I built one and didn’t break it down before anyone noticed, then I would be beaten like a misbehaving animal.”

Your heart clenches at the similarities in your history, “My mom always said if you couldn’t make a proper bed then how could you do anything of worth in a day. She would take a belt or shoe to me until I had it all put away.”

Watching as silent tears fall down Jimin’s face, you continue, “I learned to go to bed after she did and to wake up early enough that she would never know that I made my blanket fort.”

Low growls resounded from the two closest to you.

“No more. If you want a nest or whatever you want to call it, in your room then you can make one and keep it up,” says Taehyung.

“If you need new bedding because they are dirty or our scents have faded, then let us know. We will give you something else to add to your nest so that you will always feel at ease,” offers Jungkook.

“You could also, I mean, if you wanted to,” struggles Jimin. “You can also use our pack nest. I am sure the hyungs won’t mind. Or we can make a big one in the living room.”

“Jin had mentioned you are the one who makes the nests for the pack, Jimin. He mentioned maybe we can make one together. I told him I didn’t have a clue how to make a nest just a fort,” growl “ but maybe you can teach me more about what makes a nest… well a nest?” you offer.

“Really? You mean it? You want to make a nest with me?” he lights up, effectively melting the three of you on the bed. “I would love to teach you about nests. I haven’t seen yours fully made, but I would love to.”

“Then it is settled. We will make one together soon. I don’t know how late Namjoon and I will be home tonight, so I might not get a chance to make one before I crash out,” you thoughtfully mention.

“We got you. Just show us the nesting materials that need to be replaced and maybe,” Hoseok glances at Jimin, “Jimin can have a nest built for you when you get home?”

“Ooohh a personally built nest from Jimin? How come I don’t get that?” whines Taehyung as you giggle.

“I could do that for you, Y/n. Only if you wanted though. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries,” offers Jimin, stepping closer to the bed.

“I would love to come home to a nest made by you,” you agree with a smile.

Jimin only responds with a deep blush and a stilted whine, to which Jungkook and Taehyung chuckle.

Taehyung looks at Jungkook and says, “That’s three times now she has done it.” Both of them picked up on you calling the packhouse “home.”

“It’s instinctual,” responds Jungkook as he leans forward, giving Taahyung a soft peck over you. All you can do is watch, but then you realize what you just saw and look away.

“Ah, guys, umm.. I think I should get to separating and oh yeah! Breakfast with Hoseok,” you say as you wiggle your way out from between the two lovebirds.

Standing up, you and Jimin make a lovely blushing pair, which just makes the other two laugh even more. The three of them end up helping you strip your bed completely, deciding that the main sheets were too chemical-smelling for them.

You end up with three piles: those that need to be washed, those that need to be scented, and those that need to be tossed out altogether. Walking out of your bedroom with the maknae line in tow gains you some smiles from the rest of the pack.

You are immediately brought into a hug by Hoseok, who is the only one sporting a frown. “What’s wrong, Hoseok?”

“I will have to cancel helping you get ready for the gala. I forgot that I have to go with Jin-hyung and Taehyung-ah to a meeting Namjoon-ah scheduled this morning at,” he tells you.

Pulling out of his hug, you look at the rest of the pack, who all have dopy looks on their faces. “What?”

Yoogni walks up next to you, his tail wrapping around you. “You smell like the young ones, and you let Hoseok hug you, Princess. That is a big step for you, no?”

Your face drops into thought at his comment.

First, Taehyung grappled you while (and still) half naked, then Jungkook kept leaning against you to grab stuff, and Jimin laid his head in your lap as you discussed why you didn’t like how some of the material felt, hence the toss out pile.

That was a lot of touching.

Now Hoseok is hugging you, but you don’t pull back until you notice the others watching the two of you.

“I guess I am just trying to follow the hybrid pack mentality. Evie and Derek are also very touchy-feely. Getting around your idol and bonded mate status just takes time,” you attempt to reason out.

“Anyways,” looking back at Hoseok. “I guess then it’s just breakfast with you, Tae, and Jiminnie? If that’s okay with you? It’s almost done. Jin-hyung is making us quiche,” he says with hope.

“Sure! I love quiche. Especially with spinach or mushrooms and tons of cheese!” you say, licking your lips. The action caught everyone’s attention for very ‘innocent’ reasons.

“Where are we going to eat?”

“We can eat in the dining room, living room, or one of the den’s really wherever you want to?” offers Jimin.

“Well, I normally don’t eat in bed,” you say, making a few of them give you a shocked look. “Unless it's for a special reason. So I think that living room would be more comfortable but what about the rest of you?”

“I am headed to the gym near the guest house with Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “I'm going to grab my towel and meet you there, hyung.”

“I am going to head to the in-house studio and work on some solo stuff. Call me if you need me, Princess,” Yoogni says, kissing softly on your hair before going down the hall with his coffee.

“I will eat in the kitchen and then get ready for the meeting,” Seokjin mentions as he bolts to the kitchen, hearing the timer.

Watching the pack runoff, you shake your head, “You guys really take things seriously, don’t you?”

Grabbing your hand, Hoseok pulls you to the couch and puts you in the middle, with Jimin on the other side. Taehyung heads to the kitchen to help Seokjin bring out everything.

“With a pack like ours, you kind of need to. I don’t understand how Alpha Seung-cheol does it with 13 pack members,” comments Jimin. “Then again, they mostly have Betas and Omegas. Maybe it’s easier that way.”

“My Omega, Evie, comes from a pack of 10. They didn’t have an Alpha either, but her dad, Papa Earl, sure as heck acted like one.” Settling back against the couch, you smile softly, remembering the mixed cat pack.

“Besides being a larger pack of Alphas, I will always be serious about spending time with someone I think is worth it,” Hoseok says. “So yes, if anyone had stayed behind, they would have been sent off with orders to practice the updated dance routine or something.”

Draping himself over your shoulders again, he continues, “This is my time with you, doll. Jimin-ah is lucky to be allowed to join and well… Taehyung has no choice.”

“I heard that,” Taehyung says, bringing in plates of food. “She could have sent me away if she wanted me to go, but she is the only one who can right now.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say as you accept your plate. “Wahhh, this smells amazing, Jin! Thank you for making it!”

Seokjin carries a tray of drinks as she blushes at your comment, “It’s nothing. I figured this would be quick and easy to make. There is more in the kitchen. I already saved food for anyone else who might eat. Now you all have fun.”

Seokjin follows through with what he said about eating in the kitchen and then going upstairs. Literally, no one walks through the living room while the three of you talk about what is to come for the boys concerning the tour.

Taehyung adamantly chooses to sit on a pillow at your feet and feed you. Hoseok and Jimin tease him for being a ‘good boy.’ You don’t mind; eating hasn't been easy with your dominant hand in a brace.

However, your eyes keep wandering to his bare chest, and you continuously internally scold yourself for the distraction. He is just helping in penance; it’s not sexual, it’s not flirting, it’s not the K-drama male lead feeding his lover move… it’s not!

Thankfully, no one has commented on your distraction, even though they have all noticed it.

Taehyung keeps a mask of indifference while feed you but still attempts to find ways to flex more when you are looking his way. There is a slight disappointment in your lack of reaction to his physical display but he thinks you may be more for one to be chased. His Alpha doesn’t mind playing a game of cat and mouse with you– he is a tiger after all.

Jimin internally laughs at your reluctance to give in and watch Tae’s muscles move with the darkness of his eyes as he feeds you. Meanwhile, when you aren’t looking at him or he is not feeding you, Jimin notes that Taehyung is always eyeing your feet. Jimin wonders what color the tiger is wanting to paint them for you.

Hoseok, on the other hand, attempts to keep you engaged and help you while mentally preparing to scold the younger one for not getting dressed appropriately. However, the tint of arousal in your scent makes him question if he should praise the tiger instead.

By the time you are done eating, your stomach is full, and so is your calendar. Hoseok had noticed that you had not been added to the group calendar or the group chat since the meeting, so he added you to both.

“Well, doll, it was a pleasure having breakfast with you, but Tae-ah and I have to get ready for our meeting. We have to leave in about 30 mins,” Hoseok says, taking Jimin’s plate and nudging the tiger to stand.

“I think Hyung said that the team would be here around 11 or 12 to have you ready. He also ordered you lunch,” Taehyung added as he took your plates and his to the kitchen.

“So I have a couple of hours till then,” you hmm, thinking of what to do.

“I could show you the pack nest so you can see how big they can be,” timidly asks Jimin.

“Oh sure,” you smile at the thought of seeing such a precious area. “Hoseok and Taehyung, I am going with Jimin. Have fun at your meeting. I guess I will see you later.”

“Probably not, actually,” Taehyung says with a scrunched-up brow. “I think Jimin and Yoongi are on guard for today.”

“Yeah. So Yoongi and I can be around you until the noonas come. When they arrive, we will make sure no one bothers or scents you until you are with Prime Alpha for the date tonight,” informs Jimin.

“Oh, that’s right,” you frown.

“Hey, hey,” Hoseok says, taking your hands in his. “Remember, no one is leaving you behind. We wish we were around you, but this is just something that helps our Alphas. Also, please give Namjoon the opportunity to show you who he is.”

“I will,” you smile. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

You have never… NEVER… seen a pack nesting room that big. Maybe it was because they are all Alphas? You know from Evie’s family that Omegas can get really picky about how a nest is set up. So her pack ended up with 4-5 nests at a time.

The other glaringly obvious difference between your ‘human nests’ and a hybrid Idol’s nest was the quality of the nesting material. If you thought the bedding in your room was luxury, then the nesting room was made for royalty.

There were plans made to take a trip to a place called Hastens to pick out new materials for both the pack nest and your human nest. You tried to look it up only to have Jimin take your phone away.

Apparently, I shouldn’t waste my time looking because it can only be felt, and he was paying, so picking the cheapest won't work, especially since they don’t have a website and don’t list their prices. It’s one of those places you must reserve and leave your credit card on file to walk through the door.

While in the nesting room, you respectfully stayed off the actual nesting bed out of respect, but that promptly went out the window when you stood up to hug Jungkook, and he bulldozed you on it. The excuse is that you can’t plan what you are doing if you don’t know how it feels.

It was like a cloud and a lot colder than what you were expecting.

“How is it so cold with all these blankets on it?” you asked no one in particular.

“Cooling water system,” replies Namjoon, standing in the doorway in a gunmetal gray suit and tie similar to the one he wore yesterday. “Since hybrids run warmer than humans and Alphas run the hottest, they came up with a tube-like cooling system with water that runs under the mattress.”

“Does it only cool or can it heat?”

“Y/n, with seven Alphas around, if you ever get cold… I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,” says Taehyung as he walks into the nesting room dressed in a solid black-on-black three-piece suit.

You unabashedly trail your eyes over his form. Like you can’t help it, his pants hug his legs almost like skinny jeans but formal. His jacket accentuates his muscular but slim build.

“I, umm,” your eloquence is astounding. Luckily, a flying pillow from Jimin saves you.

“Yah, you can’t just go around saying things like that,” the panda yells.

Namjoon picks up the pillow and tosses it back on the nesting bed, “Taehyung isn’t wrong though is he? Tell me which of us would deny a request to cuddle with Y/n to make her more comfortable in the nest.”

“Who is cuddling with my dear in the nest? I get first dibs,” Seokjin says, wearing his drop-dead gorgeous brown sandstone suit.

The hell?

When did you walk into a CEO/Hot Professor Fanfic?

You aren’t even walking; you are just lying there… they came to you.

“Sugar, you are starting to smell even sweeter. Are you gonna survive when all of us have to suit up for an interview or an awards show?” whispers Jungkook.

Looking quickly at him, you see his face is super close to yours, and your breath catches.

“Yeah, no, maybe. Do I have to be there? I don’t think… won’t I be in the way?” You say again, showing exactly how much you didn't learn much in college, which is why you left.

“Alright, that is enough from you, mister,” Yoongi instructs from the door. “Give my Princess room to breathe. Namjoon-ah, the car is ready to take you to your meeting.”

“Thank you, hyung. Y/n, I will see you tonight. The team will be here in about an hour. I told them to set up between the living room and your room,” Namjoon says.

“Have a good time with our Prime tonight, Y/n. I hope I get a glimpse of you before you go. I missed seeing you dressed up for Jin-hyung,” sighed Tae.

“Maybe one of your guards will grace us with a quick shot, with your permission of course, doll,” mentions Seokjin.

“I wouldn’t mind that. Yoongi? Jimin? Would either of you be willing to do that for your mates?” You ask, looking between the two of them.

“We can try, but we can’t get too close. Maybe we can find a way to do it when you walk to the car,” thinks Jimin aloud. “The open-air will help our scent not cling to your dress.”

“Gotta get you used to all the camera flashes before you leave,” he teases.

“Oh, that’s right, Y/n. PD-nim sent out the announcement that you would become our playmate this morning. Your Director thought it would be best to do it now since the contract is signed,” announced Namjoon.

“So I have to face the paparazzi, then,” you sigh. “There's no point in trying to skirt around it. All that would do is make me look weak and give you all a headache.”

“You will look amazing, my dear. Now, we better go. Yoongi, make sure she relaxes and enjoys her time getting ready,” says Seokjin, hooking his arm in Taehyungs and pulling him out the door.

“Bye, guys. Love you all!” Namjoon says as he bids farewell. You sigh internally, rolling your eyes because you know Lily would faint if they ever heard Namjoon say that.

“Wait for me!” yells Hoseok, running down the hall. Practically skidding to a stop, he pops into the nesting room.

Yeah, you have Jungkook’s answer. You won’t survive all of them in a suit. You might have gone up in flames after seeing Hoseok in a fire engine red suit.

“Hey, Doll. I just wanted to say have fun tonight. Namjoon-ah is more nervous than you are. I can promise you that! Bye.” And off he goes to join the others.

You end up staring at the space where he was, flashes of the boys going around in your head with snippets of things they said like “Love you (all)” and “Someone would warm you up.”

“I think we lost her,” Yoongi says, now standing a lot closer than before. When did he move?

“Sorry, I was just thinking of ways to… deal with tonight,” you lie, trying not to reveal your not-so-innocent thoughts.

“Ahuh, we are just gonna pretend to believe you on that one,” comments Jungkook as he takes in the sweet tang of your arousal.

Pushing Jungkook away, Yoongi offers to help you up, “Come on, I think you have time for a bath. The noonas have some way of washing your hair.”

Taking his hand, you stand up and follow him towards your room, “I already started a bath for you, but I think I may have to add more hot water. Namjoon asked me to use the vanilla bath bomb today. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, vanilla or jasmine would be nice and calming, but can you put my hair in a bun so it can stay dry till the team gets here?”

Yoongi nods as you enter the bathroom. The scent of vanilla is light and pure, the tub is filled with bubbles, and some soft music is playing in the background.

“I put a towel on the toilet again, but Namjoon’s bathrobe for you to use,” Yoongi points to the dark blue, almost purple silk robe hanging up. “As the Prime Alpha, he enjoys when his called upon to smell of themselves and him only.”

“So, Namjoon’s scent is vanilla?” you ask, your brain cutting through all the times you smelled vanilla. You could swear it was on everything, but it was never vanilla alone.

“Not exactly,” Yoongi hesitates to answer honestly because he cannot just say it is the pack's mate scent. If you knew that and could smell it, you were smart enough to know that 1 + 1 equals you’re their mate.

“The vanilla compliments your natural scent, Princess, and it is considered a pack favorite,” offers Yoongi, hoping that he sounds convincing.

Still, considering the different scents you have smelt with the pack, it would make sense that they all enjoyed it. You have also always loved vanilla-scented candles and flavored candies.

Taking off your brace as Yoongi warms the bath, you ask, “So, I take it after I get in I won’t see anyone till you and Jimin send me off like parents with their kid going to prom?”

“Prom?” Yoongi questions as he dries off his hands. “I think that is an American thing. But, yes, you won’t see us much until then. If you need anything you can message the group chat or either of us individually.”

“Thank you,” you say as he excuses himself and closes the bathroom door.

Stripping down and getting into the bath, you shake your head at the fact that here you are again, in the bath, thinking of how crazy things have been. This time, however, you are not as panicked.

Well, sorta.

The contract is signed because everyone wants you here. You want to be here. They feel something special is happening between the eight of you to the point of possible integration. 4/7 of them look damn good in a suit, and you are going to go to hell for your non-good girl thoughts.

If they keep up the teasing, flirting, and various states of dress (Taehyung’s bare chest flashing through your head), you will have to find some personal alone time to release some of that particular tension.

Finding that private time when Jungkook can apparently hear you roll over in bed is gonna be a problem. Maybe your bathtimes can be a bit more relaxing…

Oh, who the hell are you kidding? You haven’t been able to get off since, like ever. Toys used to work until you lost the baby. Now, nothing works, just like your ex used to say.

You are broken and disgusting.

But the honest attentiveness toward you and the heated looks from a few of the Bangtan pack have lit something inside you that you thought had been long dead.

Maybe you aren’t broken, and maybe you aren’t that disgusting.

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thebabblingbrookenook · 2 months ago

Text

Love To Hate You

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has been your favorite rival since college. Nothing gets your blood pumping quite like getting under his skin. No matter how much you love to see him squirm, you hate the defeated look on his face at someone else's hands. You never thought you'd see the day when your only worthy opponent would become you're most exciting conquest.

Warnings: 18 & Older - Oral, Rough Sex, Degradation, Praise, Strong Language, Spanking

Word Count: 5.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days.

That’s how long this merger had been at a standstill. You’d spent the last 72 hours listening to a room full of grown men performing a metaphorical dick measuring. It was a miracle that your eyes weren’t permanently rolled to the back of your head.

The only thing keeping you from telling your pompous asshole of a boss to swallow his pride and make a few concessions was the palpable irritation radiating off the man seated across from you at the conference table.

Anthony Bridgerton.

Since your college days, you had lived to needle this man. He wore every expression clear as day across his annoyingly handsome face. It was so easy to rile him up, and even more rewarding to spar with him when he came back at you with his sharp, alluring tongue. He had proven himself a worthy opponent – someone who was not only willing to play with you, but who was capable of leaving you a panting, sweaty mess under his designer shoe.

The crease between his brow deepened with every idiotic word that left his associate’s arrogant mouth. Something about this man’s tone pissed you off. He spoke with the authority that Anthony was allowing him to possess, but it fit him just as poorly as that knock-off suit that stretched too tightly across his bulky shoulders. He would never wear that power like Anthony. Anthony earned his arrogance and wore it like the fucking king he was.

This guy needed to be humbled in an embarrassingly public way. Bonus points for the emasculation he’d feel once you shredded his ego to a bloody pulp with the ace you were hiding up your sleeve. Not only would this shut up the blundering idiot still talking out of his ass, but it would also piss Anthony the fuck off. It wasn’t hard to imagine the shade of red the tips of his ears would turn as he tried to reign in his temper.

Squeezing your thighs together under the table to suppress your arousal, you turned to your rival with a knowing smirk.

“Bridgerton, I knew you were reckless, but I never thought you were sloppy. You’ve clearly taken your eye off your company if you’re letting Vickers here run unsupervised around your kingdom.”

His shoulders stiffened in delicious frustration at the sound of your voice, but his lips turned up mischievously as he took you in.

“Careful, darling. Do you really want to play that game? I can assure you; my eyes see all.” The aforementioned eyes slid down to where your legs were pressing together in desperation beneath the table. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so hot?

Shake it off, bitch. Your pussy can get hers later. Right now, you need to focus on your takedown.

“Oh, is that so?” You smiled back at him, willing him to take the bait.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest just a moment more than was polite.

“I’m a man of my word sweetheart. And control is my drug of choice.”

Oh, this was too good. He was about to lose his mind when you yanked away his high and sent him spiraling into a bad trip.

“So, you were aware that your associate signed contract amendments on your behalf? And if I had to guess, he didn’t read them fully because according to these documents… Anthony Bridgerton consented to the 40% increase over the first 12 months. And then an additional 20% based on profit margins.”

The color drained from his face as your words hit home. A chill ran down your spine at his utterly lethal expression. You were used to his irritation. Intimately familiar with his anger… but this was different.

You could feel it the moment the last shred of restraint left his body. His already dark eyes turned almost black when he fixed them on his target.

“Is this true, Luther?” His voice was deceptively calm, but you could sense the predator lurking beneath the surface.

“Of course not,” Luther lied. “Are you really going to believe this manipulative bitch over me? That’s what she does. Why do you think Morrison hired her firm for legal representation. She’s a lying cun- …”

“STOP TALKING!” Anthony roared. “Finish that sentence and I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather.”

The room was deafeningly quiet now. A rush of wetness flooded between your legs when Anthony turned his gaze to you, and you couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped your lips. Anthony may have gotten his high from control, but you thrived on chaos. And this was the very definition of playing with fire.

“Contracts…” he said, thrusting his hand toward you in a demand.

Victory was all but dancing in your eyes as you slid the papers under his waiting fingertips. Checkmate. This round went to you,

After a diligent assessment of his forged signature, his fingers curled into fists, crumpling the paper in his grasp.

It would be easy to prove the signatures invalid, voiding the contract and rendering it moot. But God, was it worth it to bask in the absolute manic energy he was barely keeping contained.

That simply wouldn’t do. You wanted to see him erupt.

You were in the midst of your plan to stoke the flames when Luther all but did the work for you,

“She’s lying Anthony! Come on, mate. You know me!”

“I do know you,” Anthony deadpanned. “You’re the same conniving, slippery bastard you’ve always been. And we are most certainly not mates. Apparently, you’re also a moron! Do you honestly believe I can’t decipher between my own signature and a fraud? It’s right fucking here in bold black ink, you twat!”

Luther opened his mouth to argue like the true dunce he was, but Anthony silenced him with his glare alone. The danger in his slow, deep voice all but purred over my skin.

“Get. The fuck. Out of my sight.”

“You can’t just fire me! I helped you build this fucking company. You’re nothing without me, Bridgerton!”

“I can, and I just did.” His careful, composed mask was slipping back into place and you already missed his rage. “You’re done here Luther. There won’t be a single person in this industry willing to work with you after I’m through.”

Shoving back forcefully, Luther pushed up from his rolling chair and straight into the woman carrying a try full of coffee orders for the room. It all happened so fast and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The tray flung from her hands, dumping its contents onto Anthony’s broad chest and waiting lap. He stood abruptly, cursing under his breath, hands frantically trying to shoo the scalding liquid from his body.

When the woman’s hands reached out to assist him, your entire body froze. She was touching him, and you fucking hated it. You were also unsure of how he would react to the blunder. Luther deserved his wrath, but this poor girl did not.

Your heart did something funny in your chest when he gently gripped the wrists of the panicked, trembling woman in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton! It was an accident. Are you okay?!”

“Jeannine…” he soothed. “Jeannine, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little wet, but unharmed. So, there’s no need for tears.”

Ugh… Now she was looking at him like she’d just fallen in love with him. You mean, kind of like you were 30 seconds ago? Shut up, brain! Don’t look at me like that. You saw nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Anthony rubbed his hands up her arms to reassure her once more. “I could use a new set of clothes. Could you send for something for me?”

She beamed at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll get anything you’d like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Eye roll. Of course she had called him sir. And he undoubtedly loved every second of it.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re truly invaluable. You know my sizes, and you know what I like, so I have no doubt you’ll choose something that flatters me.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she blushed up at him.

His answering smile made you want to smack it right off his face. Charming bastard.

“Buy yourself something as well. Anything you want. Cost is no problem. I fear your pretty white blouse is ruined now.”

Yeah, you scoffed. Ruined and conveniently see through.

Jeaninne gave him one last embarrassed smile before retreating from the room. Before she reached the door he called after her.

“Oh, and Jeaninne… If you wouldn’t mind calling security to have them escort Mr. Vickers from premises.”

She replied with a nervous nod before fleeing the room.

You could cut the remaining tension with a knife. Everyone unsure of how to breach the standoff.

Predictably, it was my boss, lulled into a false sense of superiority, who decided to brave speaking.

“Well, well… It looks like the infallible Anthony Bridgerton isn’t invincible after all. It seems my attorney has managed to get underneath all your armor and hit her mark. How does it feel, Bridgerton?”

“How does what feel?” Anthony feigned interest, still wiping coffee from his trousers.

“To know you’re no better than the rest of us mere mortals. You’re just an arrogant boy who was handed his daddy’s company when he didn’t deserve it. Edmund would have never made a mistake like that one.”

Shit.

A small fleck of insecurity washed over Anthony’s features. He recovered quickly, but you saw it. It was an expression that was so out of place on him that for a split second he looked like another person entirely. Someone younger. Less larger than life, and more vulnerable.

It made you uncomfortable. You were the only one who was allowed to push Anthony’s buttons, and even you never wanted to tear him down that far.

Anthony opened his mouth, no doubt to tell your rotund boss to fuck all the way off, but it was your own voice that filled your ears.

“That’s enough! Mr. Morrison, you’re out of line. Don’t pretend to know anything of Edmund Bridgerton. That man would never have even granted you an audience. That’s how beneath him you would have found yourself. If I were you, I’d consider yourself grateful for even getting through the door.”

This meeting was getting out of control quickly. If you knew Anthony, and you believed you did, he was about to cut his losses and scrap the entire deal. He didn’t need this partnership. He wanted it, but he sure as fuck didn’t need it. And from where you sat, that was a dangerous place to be.

If you wanted to cash that big, fat commission check that only came after the ink was dried, you needed to do damage control.

“I think we need to take a breather. Everyone out!”

Mr. Morrison actually had the gall to laugh in your face.

“And I think you need to learn your place. I like you because you’re such a ball busting bitch but make no mistake – I’m the one in charge here. I pay you, not the other way around. So, I suggest you sit down and shut up while the men finish their conversation.”

The air in the room was charged with barely restrained fury. Whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t be sure. Mr. Morrison may have started this war, but Anthony Bridgerton was the one who finished it.

“Speak to her like that again and not only will I cancel this partnership, but I will buy your company outright and dismantle it piece by piece. I’ll sell it for parts while you watch your life’s work burn to ash. Did you think I didn’t know your proposal was a measure of last resort for you? I don’t need you, Mr. Morrison. Make no mistake – I’m the one with the real power here. From my vantage point, you’re the one who needs to learn their place.

Holy fuck…

If Mr. Morrison didn’t get the hell out of this room immediately, he was going to become intimately acquainted with your naked body, because – HOT DAMN! You were pretty sure it was the part of the story where the enemies were about to become lovers.

The look on Morrison’s face would have been funny if your clit wasn’t throbbing to within an inch of its life!

Walking to the door, you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for him to make himself scarce. “We can reconvene on Monday. I think calmer heads will yield the best results, don’t you?”

It surprised you when he didn’t try to argue. Anthony’s threat must have done its job.

Closing the door behind him, you locked it and tapped the high-tech keypad to cloak the space in privacy. The floor to ceiling glass immediately turned opaque and the sounds from the surrounding offices disappeared into silence.

You turned to find Anthony leaning against the large boardroom table, arms crossed over his toned chest. His eyes narrowed on you when you took a step towards him.

“I know you’re pleased with yourself, but I didn’t take you for the type to stick around to gloat.”

What a clueless jackass… He had no idea what was about to happen. The two of you had never crossed this line before, but you didn’t think you could survive another second in his presence without your mouth on him. Did he not feel this too?

God, this was going to be so embarrassing if he rejected you. It was a very real possibility. It would make perfect sense with the antagonizing nature of your relationship for him to even the playing field. Was it wrong that it turned you on even more to think about him putting you in your place?

“Shut the hell up, Bridgerton, and take off your pants.” Straight to the point was always the best approach with this man.

Genuine surprise colored his cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You have been a raging dick for the past three days. If that vein in your neck is any indication, you’re going to stroke out before we can finish this deal. I’ve put way too much work into this project and spent way too much time in a room filled with guys staring at my tits for me not to get this bonus check. Now, take your fucking pants off so I can suck some of that stress out of you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my raging dick for the last three days, haven’t you?”

The smug turn of his perfect fucking mouth was almost enough to make you change your mind. It felt a bit too much like he was gaining the upper hand.

“And you’ve been thinking about my ass bent over your desk since I stepped foot in here on Wednesday. Don’t act like you don’t stroke yourself to sleep at night to thought of hate fucking me.”

Your fingers went to the buttons on your blouse and started to slowly reveal the lacey black bra beneath. You felt him go still.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dropping to a sinful register.

“Giving you a better look,” you smirked “Every time I looked up today your eyes were on my tits. Touch them. They feel even better than they look.”

“You’re being serious right now…” he quipped. “What makes you think I would ever want to touch you?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, inclining your head toward his straining crotch. “Your cock looks like it wants to tear through those trousers to get to me. Or had you not noticed?”

You watched, mesmerized as his hand came up to rub himself over the restrictive fabric. Those pants were your new arch nemesis.

“If you want to rid me of my stress, it would be as easy as getting in your car and not coming back. You are the absolute bane of my existence, you know that?”

His surly words were doing nothing but egging you on.

“Maybe…” you purred, stepping into his space. You brought his warm, strong hands up to splay out over your waist. “But I’m also the object of all your desires.”

He growled in your ear when you leaned down to lick the protruding vein running up the length of his neck.

“This changes nothing between us. I still think you are the most infuriating woman on the planet.”

The heat of him looming against your stomach was too much to resist. Your fingers gripped him firmly until you felt him twitch in your palm.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Bridgerton? If not, I think I saw your brother at the end of the hall when I closed the door.”

You made to pull away from him when his hand locked around the back of your neck, pressing you firmly into the sizable bulge resting between you.

“Don’t you fucking dare. We both know you would eat my brother alive. You’re not that kind of cruel.”

“No,” you agreed. “I’m your brand of cruelty, Anthony. I think someone designed me just for you. The arrogant, entitled prick in need of someone to put him in his place. I’m your comeuppance, baby. Now be a good boy and serve your penance.”

His forehead pressed roughly into yours, trapping you to his gaze.

“You never learned how to shut this smart mouth, did you? You’ve been lashing me with that tongue for 10 fucking years.”

The tongue he just accused of bringing him pain jutted out to show him pleasure, stroking over his kissable lips.

“You don’t want me with my mouth closed, Bridgerton.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “A little peace and quiet might be a nice change.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. His pupils blew wide when you dropped to your knees in front of him. “You want my mouth wide open, baby. If you want me to shut up, then fucking make me.”

His fingers threaded into your hair yanking your head back to force your attention on his face.

“You are such a fucking brat. You’re practically begging for someone to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want? Do you want to learn your lesson?”

With all the innocence you could muster, you challenged him one last time.

“I’m an exemplary student. I’m hungry for knowledge, sir. Practically ravenous.”

If he was holding on to his restraint before, it was all gone now. His fingers tightened in your hair, sending a pulsing need to your attention hungry cunt.

“Take my dick out and stick out your tongue. I’m going to fuck that pretty face until you’re crying all over my lap. How does that sound? Do you want to choke on this cock for me?”

A whimpered “fuck” left your lips when he sprang free in front of you. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted more right now than to take him down your throat until he was a mindless mess. Licking your hungry lips, you leaned forward eagerly for a taste, but he pulled you back again.

“I asked you a question. Run that mouth one more time and answer me.”

“Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Please, Anthony. I want to choke on your cock. I want to learn my lesson.”

A visible shudder ran through him at your confession.

“Good-fucking- girl. Give me your tongue.”

For once, you obeyed without protest. If you didn’t taste him soon you might actually die.

His hand guided the warm head of his dick along your waiting tongue. His hissed breath matched your rising desire, and you moaned in pleasure. You needed more. What was he waiting for?

“Any day now, Bridgerton.” Antagonizing him was second nature at this point.

With one exasperated thrust, he slid into your mouth effectively cutting off your air supply. His quick, deep pumps had you gulping around his length. Your eyes were already streaming down your face. The fuzzy, euphoric feeling of oxygen deprivation was starting to dance behind your eyes. Your lungs burned with the need to inhale but there was not a chance in hell that you would stop this.

His needy, frantic movements were setting your blood on fire. Your imagination never could have conjured the sounds rumbling from his throat. If this is how you died, you would do so proudly and with a smile on your face. Your tombstone would be emblazoned with bold lettering that you died doing what you were made to do – choking on Anthony Bridgerton’s perfect dick.

Just when you feared that you would have to admit defeat and beg him for mercy, he pulled free from your greedy mouth leaving you a saliva-soaked mess. His labored breathing was going to be your undoing. Getting a rise out of Anthony Bridgerton had always been your preferred pastime, but this way by far your favorite way to do it.

“Is this what you wanted,” he asked. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?”

You smiled up at him, eager to poke the bear at every turn.

“Nope…” you said, popping the p in a way you knew would annoy him. “You’re a shit teacher, Bridgerton.”

Fire ignited in his rich brown eyes and your pussy all but cried out for help. The promise that one look held was enough to have you clenching around nothing, wishing he was buried inside you.

You let out a groan of satisfaction when he slapped his cock across your face.

“Did I say you could put your tongue away? Stick it back out and leave it there. I won’t tell you again.”

Desperate to taste him again, you did as you were told. He quickly rewarded your obedience with more slaps along your tongue. It was so dirty and debasing, but you loved every minute of it.

His leaking tip was smearing the salty promise of his relief all over your tastebuds. You almost came on the spot when he spit in your open mouth, coating himself thoroughly on your outstretched tongue.

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock and swallow that.”

For fuck’s sake! You actually might not survive this.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “Look how gorgeous you are when you’re doing what you’re told. Now put your hands on my thighs and hold tight. I’m going to ruin all your pretty makeup.”

Before you even had a chance to brace yourself, he was pumping back into your mouth at a relentless pace. It didn’t take him long to find a pattern that was pushing him towards the edge of his release. After a torturous onslaught of punishing thrusts, he rewarded you by holding you down on himself, burying your nose into the hair at the base of his shaft. The scent of him there was blindingly erotic, and you wanted to cover yourself in it. When he thought you had earned a breath, he would drag you off him and leave you gasping for air before starting the pattern over again.

The pressure building at the apex of your thighs was maddening. Removing one of your hands from his thigh, you reached down to ease the aching. No sooner had you moaned in pleasure around his cock did he take it away from you. You instantly felt bereft at his absence.

“Put that hand back on my thigh. I didn’t say you were allowed to touch yourself. That pussy is mine. It’s mine to touch, mine to lick, and mine to fuck.”

Your brain wanted to be obstinate, but your pussy – she wanted to be owned.

But old habits die hard. When he pushed himself back over your tongue, you scraped your teeth along his shaft in warning. It was enough to do damage, but it definitely got his attention.

Sometimes being a brat pays in spades.

Two strong arms snaked around your waist and hauled you to your feet. The abruptness elicited a surprised yelp from you, and you found yourself splayed out face down over the cool surface of the conference table.

His hands found the slit in your tight pencil skirt and ripped upward until the fabric gave way and your panty clad ass was on full display to the room.

The heat from his toned body and his sinful scent invaded all your senses when he folded himself along your back to growl into your ear.

“Why do you insist on testing me?”

Honesty was the only way you could respond.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve found who can handle the challenge. I love that you’re always willing to play with me, Anthony.”

Your hips started to push back into him involuntarily. There was so little separating your neglected, needy cunt from the one thing it wanted most. The tantalizing friction that his rigid erection provided, along with his deep throaty growl was enough to spur you on.

“Come on, Bridgerton. Give it to me. You know you want to.”

“You don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled. Only good girls get fucked when they need it.”

You couldn’t help but goad him. “Well, what do obstinate little bitches deserve? I’ve earned my punishment, Ant. Now fucking give it to me before I find someone else to do it for you.”

His leg pushed open your thighs apart even wider leaving you open and vulnerable. It also prevented your throbbing clit from finding even a modicum of relief. The force he used to drag your soaked panties down the ground had your heart racing all over again. You needed him to fuck you into this table until you couldn’t see straight.

His control was slipping again. It wouldn’t take much more to push him past his limit. If you really wanted to, you could have him pounding you with one strategically worded sentence.

As much as you wanted that, you enjoyed your game. You wanted to see what he’d do when left to his own devices.

You screamed, first in shock, and then in pleasure, when his hand smacked against the skin of your ass.

“Fuccckkkkk,” he groaned. “You filthy little whore. You liked that. I can see that hungry, perfect pussy searching for my cock. You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

Something about the tone of his voice when he called you baby had your heart misbehaving in your chest. It sounded almost reverent. Like he was proud of you for how much your body begged for him.

“Count and tell me you’re sorry,” he instructed.

“One,” you complied. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why you’re sorry.” His tone was an order.

“I’m sorry you weren’t man enough to handle a little scrape of my teeth.” The rush you got from needling him was unparalleled.

The next blow was even harder than the last and had you lifting onto your toes. If he thought this was a punishment, he was sorely mistaken. You could easily become addicted to his discipline.

“Two,” you moaned. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why.” The strain in his voice was a dead giveaway to his level of need.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed in front of the boys today. They probably don’t respect you now.”

That earned you a smack right across your dripping core. It was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. You felt like you could pass out from the adrenaline rushing through your system.

He asked you again and again why you were sorry, and each time you provoked him a little more. Your entire backside burned with the memories of the sensations his hands had left on you.

He asked you a final time.

“Why are you sorry, baby? Be honest.”

“Honestly,” you paused, braving your next words. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. We should have done this a long time ago.”

One big hand curled around your throat and lifted your back to his front. His lips crashed into yours for a searing kiss. His other hand slid down your stomach and pressed into your clit with the perfect pressure. His fingers circled you as you moaned into mouth.

“Anthony,” you cried. “Please, fuck me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

His body pushed yours back down to the tabletop and with one swift movement he was buried to the hilt. The stretch was exquisite. How had you gone so long without knowing the feeling of his cock moving inside you? That had to be some sort of crime against humanity.

You were both too far gone. It was impossible to savor it. It was quick, filthy, and hurt in the best way possible. His hips drove you so hard into the edge of the table that the bruises were likely already forming. The sounds the two of you made together were obscene. Skin slapping against skin. The desperate protest your wet heat made when he left your body for a fraction of a second and the whimpered thank you it made when you clutched him back into you.

His voice was the thing that truly sealed your fate. He was vocal and he wasn’t shy about it. His groans. His curses. His generous praise. He left no room for doubt. You were bringing him pleasure and he was lost to the euphoria.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck…” he hissed. “I’m gonna come. Come for me baby. Milk this cock with your tight little cunt.”

As if on command, you could feel the orgasm begin to swell. Your muscles clamped down on him, holding him prisoner inside you. You pulsed around him, and you could feel him get impossibly stiffer as he spilled himself into you.

“Yes. Yessss,” he cried out. “That’s it baby. Ride it out. I’m right there with you. You feel so fucking good.”

Breathing was hard, and your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. You winced at the pain when he pulled from your body. His release trying to follow suit, dripping down your thighs. You were a fucking mess.

His fingers collected your combined orgasms, pushing it back inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You’re going to keep all of my cum right where it belongs. I’m claiming this fucking cunt, baby.”

His fingers moved from your core to your lips. They were slicked with the evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“Suck,” he ordered.

You were done fighting him. At least for today.

Opening wide, you sucked his fingers into your mouth and tasted the two of you together on your tongue. A little hum of pleasure was all you could express. He had well and truly fucked you.

“Good girl.”

He straightened your body, righting your clothes and wiping the hair back from your sweaty face.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

He moved away from you, gathering something from the other end of the table. When he reappeared at your side, it was with his phone. He pulled the camera up to snap a photo of your sex drunk face and then lifted your skirt again to document the damage he did to your ass.

“You look perfect. Absolutely wrecked.” He turned the phone to show you the picture.

He was right about the wrecked part. Your mascara was streaked all down your face, and your lips were swollen and red from the rough assault he made on your mouth. And you had the matching red hand shaped wilts on your ass cheeks to go with it.

“You’re welcome,” you teased.

“For what, exactly?” He was trying and failing to hide his smile

“I told you I could suck the stress out of you. You look much more relaxed now. Borderline happy even. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

His next words took you by surprise.

“Thank you.”

A loud buzz sounded and Jeaninne’s voice filtered into the room.

“Mr. Bridgerton… Your clothes have arrived, and your lunch is waiting for you in your office. I ordered your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll as you continued to button your top.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re the best.”

“You’re shameless,” you accused

“What,” he shrugged. “I like to see how often I can make her blush.”

You huffed in disapproval. The poor girl was probably in love with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to look him in the face at his sudden change of tone.

“Sure,” you replied. “Ask away.”

“Do you respect me?”

You eyed him in shock. That look of vulnerability was back and you loathed it.

“Is this about what I said earlier? About me embarrassing you in front of your team?”

His silence was the only answer you needed.

“Do I seem like the type of woman who would put your cock in my mouth if I didn’t respect you?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good.”

You gathered your briefcase and strode towards the door. You only stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I respect you, too.”

“I know,” you smiled. “You wouldn’t play so well with me if you didn’t. Get your shit together, Bridgerton. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning with revised contracts. I’m sure Morrison is chomping at the bit to get this settled after your little pissing contest today.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“You want to respect each other again next week?”

You shot him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room. You would most definitely be respecting the hell out of him as soon as humanly possible.

If you were lucky, maybe you could get him to respect you a little less.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@eleanor-bradstreet @faye-tale @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queenofmean14

#anthony bridgerton and you #anthony bridgerton smut #Anthony Bridgerton and Reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton modern au

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