#i just took a look at a few lower rating reviews and it seems these issues are never resolved and might actually just get worse

[caffeinated-bibliophile]

😭

[hisunshiine]

—grey area: avoiding the red | ksj

📈pairing: CFO!seokjin x senior accounting manager!reader 📈au/genre: CEO au, fake dating au, c2l, fluff, smut, angst 📈rating: M 📈wc: 27,659 📈warnings: swearing, vulgar statements, misogyny, eventual mutual pining, fake dating bet, leg injury/sprain, minor boat crash, explicit sexual content: strawberry juice dripping, straddling, making out, clothed grinding, marking, fingering, consent seeking, foreplay, unprotected sex, cock riding, wall sex, stairs sex, mutual orgasm, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), cum swallowing, hair pulling   📈an: beta readers: @peachiilovesot7, @downbad4yoongi, @heathfritillary-blog, @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, @pennpad-bts thank you so much for all of your beta reading and brainstorming and help! to all my readers who have stuck by me, you mean the world. I am so sorry it took me so long to post this, but it's finally here! 📈summary: Recently inducted CFO Kim Seokjin is the head of finances at JinHit Conglomerate after his father retires. You, the senior accounting manager for the company, begin to stomp around in your heels complaining about areas that need mitigating for the business to continue to run smoothly after a meeting gone wrong. When Seokjin makes a bet with you to see if the two of you can hide a romantic relationship from work peers, several things are revealed OR The one where Seokjin wants to get you only in your heels.

taglist: @flxrcnt @ggukkieland​ @yoongisdragon​

masterlist | one | two | three | four | you are here | six | seven

in the red (idiom): spending and owing more money than is being earned

Jaw clenched tightly as you ignore the tension running through your body, your finger slowly scrolls the webpage you’re viewing on your laptop. Price tags be damned, you couldn’t care less about the cost of the bejeweled heels—you had to have them. It will just have to wait a few paychecks before you can purchase them. If you could even afford them after today. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment; a gorgeous colored pump that would be the pièce de résistance to an all black or white outfit. 

Online shopping is one of your favorite coping skills, a great calming technique to get your mind off the email you received almost a half hour ago, for a meeting you were summoned to attend in five minutes. A meeting JinHit’s Board of Directors summoned you to attend, to be exact. You checked the email several times, opening the list of recipients to full view to see everyone who was invited, and the vein throbbing in your forehead pulses at the reminder. 

Only the C-Suite and the heads of each department will be in attendance, and the knowledge of what this could mean sends a shiver down your rigid spine. Seokjin had asked you to prepare the financial report last week for the board to review; it doesn’t seem coincidental that the meeting is being called a day after you sent it. 

Adjusting your position where you sit in the meeting room currently, having arrived earlier than normal to choose your favorite seat, you cross a leg over your thigh, bouncing your matte black Balenciaga Knife 110MM pumps in time with your anxiety.

“Can you please just relax?” Seokjin mutters. “The constant bouncing is giving me a headache.”

You grit your teeth, molars grinding against each other as you hold back your remarks. Easy for you to say, you think, not all of us have the luxury to relax. Stilling the ankle that was flexing up and down in a jittery dance, you lower your leg and straighten your slacks.

“I’m sorry, sir.” My leg wouldn’t bother you if you hadn’t followed me from the accounting wing. “The board meeting has me worried. If office gossip on WeVerse is anything to go by, I’m afraid we might not be employed for much longer.” 

Jin twirls a Montblanc fountain pen worth more than your monthly rent as he stares at you, nonplussed. 

“I highly doubt that, Kicks. There’s no need to exaggerate. You’re busy looking at expensive heels again, anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

You huff at the nickname he’s bestowed upon you for your shoe obsession, rolling your eyes as you close them before taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Maybe you’ll still be CFO of JinHit, sir, but not all of us are nepo-babies. If anyone is going to be fired, it’ll be me. So I’m looking at heels to see the last thing I can purchase with my severance pay before I’m destitute. Sir.” 

“I don’t know why you bother keeping up pretenses by calling me ‘sir’ when you talk to me like that,” he mutters. “Calling me a damn nepo-baby.” 

You run down the list of all of the attendees in your head once more. Kim Namjoon, CEO, Kim Seokjin, CFO, Min Yoongi, General Counsel (the company's main attorney and primary source of legal advice), Jung Hoseok, JinHit Entertainment Division manager, Kim Taehyung, recently promoted Property Acquisition Division Manager, Jeon Jungkook, CIO, yourself, and a few other heads of departments you aren’t as familiar with. Lastly, all of the board members, minus Park Jimin’s father, though he’s in the room instead, stepping in for his father who is away on vacation.  

“You make me laugh, Kicks. I’m so glad to have you by my side.” Seokjin can’t help but chuckle. 

“If only I could say the same,” you grumble under your breath.

“One day, you’ll say you love me.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the men walking in through the door. Discreetly you close the tab to the Jimmy Choo website and pull up your email instead, awaiting the soft ding! that alerts you to the agenda and any additional documents you will need. 

The room is full of the sounds of creaking leather and quiet chatter as the gentlemen settle into their seats for the meeting to commence. 

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“This is an outrage!”

“What have the heads of finance been doing? Getting their fucking dicks wet by fucking secretaries in the janitor’s closet?” 

You narrow your eyes at the older man who had the audacity to speak in such a way during a meeting, seemingly forgetting that the Senior Accounting Manager is you, and that you do not have a dick to fuck said secretary with.

“Please, Mr. Choi, the finance department has been working just as much as everyone else, and the Senior Accounting Manager,” the CEO gestures to you as he reminds the man of your name, “she has been more than transparent with me about the state of our finances for this quarter.” 

The other men in the room appear to have the wherewithal to look flummoxed at Mr. Choi’s outburst in the presence of a woman, but their reactions don't keep his thin lips quiet. 

“So, she’s the one getting fucked in the janitor’s closet. Either way, the finances are abysmal and something must be done!” Mr. Choi throws a printed copy of your financial report in your direction, and you can see the top sheet flutter onto the floor with your name splashed across it. He was being obtuse on purpose—he knew damn well who prepared the financial report.

Seokjin’s hand clamps down on your thigh, holding you back from lunging across the table at the grey-haired misogynist as he speaks. 

“Please, Mr. Choi, I know you’re a little jealous that no one is fucking you,” everyone in the room laughs at Seokjin’s light banter, “but I promise you, the finance department is working on options to help make up for the expenses.”

Incensed, Mr. Choi stands up, face red with fury at being made a fool. You almost expect him to turn his ire on Seokjin for his words, but the reality of the situation is that Mr. Choi would never dare to curse out the son of the previous CFO and namesake of the company. 

“As the Senior Accounting Manager,” he starts with a sneer, “you should’ve had a better handle on what was happening right under your nose.” He thrusts his fat finger at you, spittle flying as his anger gains traction. “This is why women shouldn’t be in positions like this. You’re useless to this company, and if it were up to me, I would fire you for letting the company get so close to the red line. Seokjin, she reflects poorly on you.”

“Mr. Choi.” Namjoon’s tone is final as he rises to his feet, dragon eyes cutting daggers. “Please respect my employees.” The ‘or else’ is not said, but implied.

You shake with rage, holding back tears of frustration at how no one is coming to your defense. Sure, the CEO asked the board member to respect you, but only after said board member had already besmirched your name. After he had so rudely made insinuations about how poorly he thinks of you and ignored that Kim Seokjin is the Chief Financial Officer and the true overseer of the finances. No one says anything to defend your honor or put the man in his place for talking to an employee this way.

“I’ll respect her when she does her fucking job right! You have until the first quarter of the new year to fix this shit.” Mr. Choi turns and leaves the room dramatically, and for once, you’re glad that you didn’t say anything, because you aren’t fired—yet. Had you opened your mouth, you might have been.

The rest of the room quietly turns to light talk as you direct your heated face to the open report on your laptop. The finances for the year highlight some of the major spending across the departments totalling several million once all added together; several million that were not accounted for at the start of the year when budgets were drawn up and outlined. 

First, there was the $2 million dollar loss from the Property Acquisition department thanks to one Kim Taehyung and late paperwork, then stocks dropped from the Facebook video released of C-Suite members and the impromptu start of the non-profit side company NAMU. The cost of going green to implement practices to support NAMU and raise the value of the stocks once again, and the cost of acquiring a new partnership with LeeCo Cosmetics due to Hoseok’s arranged marriage.  

“Ahem,” Namjoon clears his throat, calling everyone’s attention. “Now that everyone has had ample time to review the finance report, I think the best way forward is to come up with a plan to implement for the start of the next quarter to change the projection of the report away from the red line.”

“How long do we have to develop a plan?” Seokjin asks, eyes darting over to your silently seething frame.

“You have the month, Jin. December will be spent researching in order to make a decision and create a plan to implement in January. We will re-evaluate the financial report at the end of the first quarter to ensure that there are no negative consequences for the decisions we’ve made, and go from there. Remember, the fiscal year ends March 31st, so we only have the quarter to fix this. Dismissed.”

The room empties out, with Namjoon cutting his eyes at Seokjin to keep him seated. You still needed to gather the documents and calm down before you did something rash, so it’s just the three of you left once the door swings shut.

“Seokjin, I understand why, but do you have to always be so unserious?” Namjoon sighs out. 

“What do you mean? I was just giving back what he was dishing out,” Seokjin defends, not seeing the issue with what transpired. 

“You know he went and called your dad as soon as he walked out of the room, right?”

“And? The man retired—I’m the CFO now, not my father. It’ll be fine!”

Namjoon just stares at him, before giving you a pitying look that you despise. You know he means it more as sympathy for how you were treated, but it makes you feel different from the others somehow, like you can’t handle the atmosphere of the “wealthy businessmen club”. He nods at you both before he stands and leaves, and Seokjin is not far behind him. 

You bend down to gather the documents once your breathing has regulated. 

You were right to have been worried about this meeting.

The first week after that dreaded meeting, you spend your time researching the various financial avenues the company has and begin to dissect them for potential areas of mitigation. Seokjin pulls you aside into one of his many offices, this one located on the financing floor, and tries to talk to you about what happened with Mr. Choi, but you don’t let him get but a few words out before cutting in to tell him off for letting you take the blame as soon as the door closes behind you. 

“You actually sat there and didn’t say anything to that sexist pig!” You jab Seokjin in the chest to emphasize the last three syllables. “I should report him to HR for sexual harassment! That’ll teach the geriatric asshole.” 

Grabbing your shoulders gently, Seokjin leans his face down to your height. Maintaining a calm, soothing tone, he attempts to placate you. “Kicks, I did speak up, but he’s my godfather and I can’t go around cursing my daebu (대부) at work—”

“You didn’t speak up to support me, Seokjin, you made a joke and defended the department, but he was attacking me, and you didn’t say shit. None of you did.”

Pulling away from him, you wrap your arms around yourself as if to self-soothe with a hug, taking several deep breaths to compose yourself. His touches have been growing more frequent lately, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re acting like a deranged woman since the dreaded meeting, or if you’re noticing it because of other reasons. Not that you would ever date a coworker or anything… 

Stepping away from him allows you a chance to breathe, despite how nice it feels when he uses physical contact to comfort you. Arranging your features, you steady yourself as you turn on your heel to face him again. 

“I’m sorry for my language, sir. If you will excuse me, I’ll take my lunch now and then we can meet to discuss my findings.” 

Without waiting for Seokjin to respond, you step around him and exit his office. You walk towards your desk and grab your convertible laptop and a thin manila folder before you head out of the finance wing. Trekking through the hallways to the elevator, you shake off the outburst as you pass through the waist-high metal safety gate and into the lobby. You hear a high-pitched voice yell out your name.

“Hey, I know you’re plenty busy, but I’ve been tasked with spearheading the holiday party committee, and we need your approval for the budget. Can you sign off on these documents for me?” Ji-Soo asks. “If I had the time, I would run this up to finance,” she adds, “Seokjin is so hot…Damn. How do you handle working so closely with him?”

The front desk representative bats her kohl-lined eyes at you, swinging her long black hair over her shoulder. Her flowy off-the-shoulder blouse reveals a cute, tiny heart-shaped tattoo inked onto her skin. You hate her insinuation that you’re attracted to your boss and the way her eyebrows move as if to suggest that you and Seokjin are anything like her and Jimin. You may find him good-looking, but you have more sense than to be seen C-Suite hopping.  

Ignoring her second question, you respond, “I’m on my way to grab lunch, but I can review the documents and let you know if the budget is approved.”

Ji-Soo’s face morphs into one of distaste.

“Why do you need to review it? Can’t you just sign it now? Seokjin always approved the holiday party budgets in the past.”

You groan, knowing that you would be competing with the legacy Seokjin left behind after his promotion to CFO after his father stepped down for retirement. When it was okay to be fiscally irresponsible, because other employees hadn’t racked up millions in expenses out of the blue. 

“Sorry, Ji-Soo. Orders from the stakeholders—all budgets have to be reviewed before approval.” You grasp the papers she unceremoniously brandished at you and tuck them into the manila folder. “I’ll get this back to you once it’s been properly assessed.”

“Hey!” Ji-Soo calls after you as you walk away from her, “I need that by the end of the week! Party planning is not cheap!”

Feet still moving, you wave your hand over your shoulder at her, not bothering to spare her a glance. “End of the week, got it!”

Lunch is boring; you hadn’t actually meant to leave for your thirty-minute break today, but after your outburst you felt some exercise would do you good. The small cafe near the office building is the perfect spot to set up your laptop and browse through documents, the Jimmy Choo website, and perk up with a late afternoon latte. 

Opening up the fillable PDF file for budget assessment proposals, you begin reviewing the holiday party plans. It pains you to see some of the outlandish expenses they want: an ice sculpture of the company logo, open bar with top-shelf liquor, performance by an upcoming American artist breaking into the scene, and several gift packages for raffles, just to name a few.

Downing the rest of your coffee, you type up your review and draft an email to Ji-Soo, attaching a PDF scan of her proposal and your budget assessment, denying her requests. You ask her to reduce the cost of the party by several hundred thousand, providing a list of things she can mitigate to reach the approved goal, and then you turn on your auto reply so as to avoid her wrath. Walking back into the office building, you blend in with the after lunch crowd and make it back to the small finance department conference room to meet with Seokjin. 

Seokjin’s POV

Kim Seokjin sits in the conference room in finance, several levels away from his office where the other C-Suite executives reside, waiting for you. Seokjin has worked with you for several years in finance before his promotion, and you were by far the most qualified Senior Accounting Manager he’s ever met. 

He knows he’s lucky to have you, and not just for your skills and personality—you’re also easy on the eyes. Seokjin’s always been tempted to ask you out, cross that boundary of coworkers, but the timing’s never been right. With his promotion at the start of the year, the chasm has gotten wider, his resolve fading with it. 

After you leave for your lunch break, he settles into the conference room replaying the way your hips swayed as you walked away from him. Chuckling at the way your perfect image cracked and he got to hear his name roll off of your tongue—that is until the smile is wiped away as he remembers what led to it. You were right. He didn’t defend you in that meeting earlier in the week, simply too gobsmacked by Mr. Choi’s choice of words to even think clearly. The image it put into his head, you in the hallway closet with those legs wrapped around his waist, letting him fuck you into oblivion—in just those heels you stomp around in, so authoritative-like…Seokjin licks his lips as his fingers clench the edge of his desk, before he shakes the image away. 

He hates that you feel like you do; growing up he spent so much time at the office, running around with Namjoon as their dads built the company from the ground up, and the women in the office always took care of them. 

Mrs. Im was the payroll bookkeeper when he was just a child; his love for numbers and accounting started with her. She tutored him in math through primary school, even helping him pass the Suneung, or the CSAT national test, to get into college. He saw how hard it was for her to move up in the department, often being looked over for her male counterparts, despite being better than them. As far as the finance department goes, payroll is the lowest on the totem pole. Mrs. Im only made it one level up to Staff Accountant, despite being able to count circles around the men and it never seemed fair.

Now, the company is much more with the times, with many women in not only the finance department, but in information technology, and men in nontraditional roles as well, like the secretary who is in the entertainment department, Kai. As for your position, the only person above you in the hierarchy is himself, and some days Seokjin wishes he could promote you into his role for all your hard work. He curses his daebu in his head for the way his backwards thinking has negatively affected you, and then curses himself for not being able to support you the way you deserved in that meeting. 

Seokjin fields text messages from his father about the company’s finances, Namjoon’s assumption that Mr. Choi called his father, having been correct. It’s been an ongoing conversation since the moment he left the meeting—his father bothering him day and night about his behavior.

아버지 (Father) - 12:48 pm : You should not have spoken like that in a meeting. Choi told me that you were talking back, not taking any accountability for the financial crisis the company could be facing, and that girl was impertinent. For once, can you just take this job seriously? Can you take your life seriously? Jin - 12:49 pm: Aren’t you retired?

Once your lunch break ends, Seokjin can’t hide the smile on his face as you enter the room, setting your belongings on the table with a sigh. 

“Ji-Soo stopped me as I was leaving to talk about the holiday party. Can we discuss it at the end of the meeting?”

“Of course. Let’s get the business out of the way, then.”

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“Absolutely not.”

“But sir, the amount of money that we spend every month on the Friday event, especially with it being a half day of work getting done…even to reduce it for the first quarter could make significant gains to remain in the black.”

Seokjin crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back in the office chair. 

“You have to understand, Kicks. The Friday event is only once a month. It’s important for employee morale, not to mention the amount of impact we have on the community right here. There’s the Cho family who runs the Korean street food truck. Half of their monthly revenue comes from this one day. The parents have a daughter in college and she has a small son they look after while she’s in class. They wouldn’t be able to support them both without us.”

You level Seokjin with a gaze that he wishes he could act upon, taking you up on the challenge it serves.

“You want to continue Fun Fridays to save this ONE restaurant?” you ask, leaning your elbows onto the table as you peer closely at Seokjin, analyzing him. Your hands are clasped tightly in front of you as you hold back the urge to fix the wayward strand of hair that falls across his forehead.

“Well, no—not just this one. It helps all of the local companies who come out to provide for us—this was just an example that should pull at your heartstrings.” Seokjin leans towards you, placing his hand atop yours to sell the sentimental connection he’s using to keep Fridays as is. “These are real people who rely on us. And our employees rely on them. People want to work here and our stocks do well because the employees brag about once-a-month Fridays on WeVerse. It would be foolhardy to our reputation to remove it.” He gestures dramatically with his hands to emphasize just how foolhardy he finds it, and you suddenly miss the warmth of his hand on yours. 

“Fine.” You look down at the next item on the list, gathering your thoughts away from the dangerous path of Seokjin’s hands on yours. “My next proposal is to make a change to the employee health benefits. I looked into it and we can lower company costs if we choose the specific provider for employees. I’ve found a clinic with three primary care doctors that provided us with an estimate. They project to have a great low cost for the company and there would be less contribution from the employees as well. A win-win.”

You smugly slide over the information you gathered for Seokjin’s review. He can’t help but admit to himself that this is a possible option. He doesn’t like that it would throw off the plans already in place, but as long as the doctors are reputable, he feels confident in this choice. 

“Can you tell me a little bit about the clinic or the doctors we would be assigned?”

“Sure, uh, their names are…Hyun Yong-in, Jung Hyun-tae and Lee Wan-soo. They work for—”

“—Incheon 21st Century Hospital,” Seokjin interrupts. You glower at him. 

“Next idea.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because, Kicks, if you had done a little more digging, you would know why the fee is so low. They had a massive lawsuit, malpractice and fraud, allowing interns and assistants to perform surgery on patients without consent or supervision. They should’ve lost their licenses. I didn’t realize they were done with their jail time. Two years goes by fast.”

He watches you pale visibly at the news, just a few shades lighter than normal as you swallow the information. Folding his convertible laptop so that it becomes a touchscreen tablet, he taps for a few moments before proffering the screen to you. 

“Oh,” you gulp. “Well, I have one more idea to help the company.”

Pulling out the printed paper from the manila folder, you pass the list of departments to Seokjin for him to review. 

“These are all of the departments of JinHit Conglomerate with a brief description of what they handle.” Leaning over, you point to a small subsection under the Information Technology sector. “This right here is a small department that is listed under IT, but could also be considered Marketing. It houses the Social Media Managers—three employees who oversee engagement, content, and analytics for the company’s online platforms and presence.”

Seokjin nods.

“Yes, they are the ones who caught wind of the video Khaity posted…We had to make sure that moving forward they didn’t contact the board first, but me and Joon.” Seokjin shakes his head at the memory. “That was a shitshow,” he mutters.

“Well, take a look at the expenses this department has incurred. The cost of new equipment for all three members, including desktops here in the office and work devices, to take on the go and to have at home; high-speed gigabit internet speeds, several purchases for access to databases and systems to track the company name and various projects we are working on, a stipend for food—I don’t even know why they need that—plus these charges to the company card for a massage therapist to come in-house three times a week!” You huff in indignation at the ridiculousness of the expenses as Seokjin’s phone chimes from an incoming message.

“So what are you proposing we do? Cut out massages? Or are you offering to be my personal masseuse? I have a few areas you could—”

“I will call HR so quick—”

“I’m kidding, sheesh! You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered! Anyway,” you redirect the conversation away from another spiraling train of thought as your tablet dings, “this department incurs more expenses per member than some of the entertainment sector, so I think we need to merge these workers into other departments with a significant decrease to the special treatment they have been receiving and do a sweep through ALL department expenses, mitigating all of the superfluous things, like fucking massage therapists being on-call in-house three times a week.”

“The employees are not going to like this—we've always allowed them the ability to not be micromanaged when it comes to workplace spending,” Seokjin answers, but he knows this is the best bet to meet the board’s requirements and stay on your good side. “But okay.”

“Great. I’ll draft the memo to be sent out as soon as possible so that from now on, all expenses will be reviewed by me before charges can be processed by the company.” A quiet pinging chimes as you talk. “All spending must go through a request and approval process. I’ve already drafted the forms for requesting funds, and this is a great segue into Ji-Soo and the holiday party. She can be the first to complete the new process for approval, since I’ve already completed the form and sent it to her.”

Jin huffs out a disbelieving chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment of relief.

“Well, that explains the back-to-back emails she’s sent while we’ve been talking. She must not understand that emails are not like text messages.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that Ji-Soo is surpassing the CEO with her IQ score.” You click the keys on the tablet keyboard, avoiding looking at Seokjin, lest you start to laugh as another ding fills the silence from his constantly chirping phone.

“Kicks! It’s so rare to see you snip back—she must’ve done something to get under your skin.” Seokjin smirks, thinking about how he wants to be next.

“Just thinking about how if we could fire some people, that would also help with costs.”

“For now, we’ll stick to option three and your plan to assess all company fund requests. I’ll report this to Namjoon and you can work on your memo. And please, if you love me at all,” Seokjin pauses so that he can stand up and gather his device and pen, “reply to Ji-Soo before she files a complaint.”

“Yes, sir.” And you will, but not because you have any kind of feelings for your boss. 

Reader POV

Ji-Soo is not happy with the reply email you sent to her, but you don’t care. Unfortunately, it’s your job that’s on the line, though you wish it would be hers. Her many office dalliances are of no secret to you thanks to being so close to one of the C-Suite employees, but there isn’t much you can do about it.

The rest of the weekend and following week is spent writing up the memo for the CEO to approve and send out to all departments, prepping all of the review documents you will be using for requests, and meeting with the CIO, Jeon Jungkook, to discuss the rearranging of the IT Departments so that the staff members can be placed accordingly. 

Friday afternoon, a reminder email comes through about the Company Holiday party happening tomorrow. You didn’t forget about it—not with the way Ji-Soo bothers you almost daily about how hard it is to plan the event with the limited funds you provided her. You roll your eyes at her email—the slight dig at the change of venue due to the financial department’s mitigations did not go unmissed by you. 

In actuality, she has the same amount of money for decorations and food as previous years—making her use the JinHit building as the location instead of renting out an expensive ballroom or hotel conference room allowed you to approve her decorations, food, and drink budget. 

Moving the email into the relevant folder, you close down your computer for the weekend, excited to finally be done with the long week. You plan to attend the event, and as you pack up your belongings to head home, you think through the various outfits in your closet to piece together what you might want to wear. 

“Hey, Kicks!” Seokjin’s loud voice calls out to you as you wait for the elevator car to arrive on your floor. The finance department is located on the 48th floor, below the C-Suite offices, and it isn’t every day that people frequently travel this high. Most of the Property Acquisition department left earlier, also located on this floor; so the quiet atmosphere allows his voice to travel farther than usual.

“Hey, Seokjin. Have a good weekend,” you say in greeting and farewell so as to not prolong a conversation. He doesn’t take the hint and steps next to you, his heady cologne filling the elevator waiting area. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead, showing his annoyingly handsome face, and you turn away from his brown eyes smiling at you.

“Oh, I’m sure this weekend will be more than good. Are you coming tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Need to witness with my own eyes how it turns out so Ji-Soo can’t lie.”

Seokjin laughs as the elevator sounds to alert that the carriage has arrived. The two of you board, the enclosed space unsurprisingly empty. Being alone with him is nothing you aren’t used to—but lately you’re noticing he’s frustratingly handsome, which makes it harder for you to still blame him for the finance meeting debacle.

“Sounds like something she would do,” he finishes after laughing, pressing the button to the 50th floor, causing the trajectory of the elevator to lurch upward.

“Seokjin!”

“What? You know I have two offices and I left my briefcase upstairs. Wait for me, please?” he begs as the door opens and he takes off at a slow jog down the hallway. You sigh, pressing the door open button a few times as you wait for him to return. You’re annoyed and ready to go home, and this just highlights how much he enjoys getting under your skin and earning a reaction from you. He’s back quickly, only slightly out of breath as you press the button for the ground floor.

“Thanks, Kicks. It’s creepy leaving here by myself.”

You look at him incredulously.

“It’s not creepy. Most of the lights are still on!”

“Barely! Plus now that it’s winter, the sun sets earlier. Look,” he gestures out the elevator’s tinted glass window. “It’s already setting.”

“It’s not setting, it just looks darker because the glass is tinted for shade so we don’t fry on the way up to the office.”

“If it’s hot in here, I can get off,” he offers, pointing to the button for the 37th floor that he can press to stop the motion of the elevator’s descent.

“You really think you’re hot, huh?”

“You don’t agree?” Seokjin challenges, stepping into your space. His arms cage your body in, and he tilts his head to look down at you. You fight the urge to stare at his lips, instead biting your own as you maintain eye contact. 

“Oh Seokjin, there are so many things I don’t agree with you on.” You decide to take this opportunity and fluster him for a change. You close the gap dividing you from Seokjin and begin to run your hand along the top of his head, as if in a loving manner. You hold back a laugh at the way his eyes close in contentment at the feel of your fingers sliding along his scalp, unaware of your actual goal. Your fingers curl around his locks, giving you a good grip to pull his head back and away from you.

“Ow, ow!” He hollers as he steps away from you, releasing you from the tension built within his arms.

“Sorry, sir.” Smugly, you cross your arms as he rubs at his scalp while shooting daggers at you, knowing it’s all in jest.

The two of you continue to playfully banter on the way down to the main lobby, parting ways as he heads to his reserved parking spot and you walk to the bus stop near the building that most employees utilize to get home. 

📈📈📈📈📈

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you fix your dress, eyes leaving the thigh slit in your dress to gaze at the black Louis Vuitton FAME pumps adorning your feet. The cocktail dress is black, showing off ample shoulder and legs, while accentuating all of your best body parts. Grabbing your winter coat and clutch, you head downstairs to the waiting KakaoTaxi that will take you to the office.

The lobby of JinHit is full of people arriving, greeting each other and taking photos in front of the ice sculpture of the company logo. On the other side of the main desk from the elevators, a makeshift coat check has been erected, with a small line of your coworkers turning in their heavy coats so they can enjoy the party. After dropping off your own jacket, you make your way to the elevator, waving salutations to coworkers you see. The CEO’s secretary, NaBi, poses with the CIO, Jungkook, in front of a beautiful backdrop of a snowy forest, fake snow falling from a machine positioned above. Yoongi and Jimin stand to one side, clearly arguing back and forth about something, though both have a smile on their face. Reaching the elevator, the doors open as soon as you press the button, and you’re quickly rising to the 5th floor. 

The 5th floor is often referred to as the Study Area, because it houses several quiet areas for the employees to access. The entertainment section uses it the most, with the various celebrities signed to JinHit doing work, studying their craft, and holding meetings in the rooms. The first door, and the main location of the party is called The Library, because one side of the wall is filled with bookshelves and books, while the opposite side holds floor-to-ceiling glass windows. There is a balcony within The Library that looks down upon the main floor, and tonight, it’s filled with white covered tables with a good sized area for people to dance and mingle.

As you take in the decorations, you can’t help but admire Ji-Soo’s efforts, and when she appears from a side door directing a working staffer on the placement of silverware, you tell her so. 

“Thank you, YN…not that your goal to cut down on spending was of any help.”

“Yes, I am sure that this is not the venue you had in mind, but you’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Wow, babes, this looks great!” Jimin walks into the room, followed by Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook. 

“Yes, I worked very hard for almost two weeks on planning this.” Ji-Soo curls herself into Jimin’s arms as he wraps an arm around her waist. They walk further into the room to allow the crowd to enter, and soon The Library is full of people grabbing plates for the buffet line and getting drinks from the bar set up beneath the balcony. You decide to get a drink first, avoiding the crowd lining up to get first dibs on the food emitting a delicious aroma into the room.

The bartender is skilled, shaking bottles and pouring liquor for your waiting coworkers. The Malibu Bay Breeze you ordered is paired with a couple of cherries that sway in the glass as it slides down the bar to you. Taking a sip, you enjoy the refreshing taste of the cran-pineapple and coconut rum as it takes over your tastebuds.

“What did you order? Is it good?”

You nod your head at NaBi, who recently joined you at the bar, as you take another long sip from the thin black straw. 

“It’s perfect! Not overly sweet, but the rum isn’t overpowering it either.”

“I’ll have to try that one after I finish my amaretto sour.” She gestures to the bartender who is mixing her order. 

“They taste so good, I bet the party will get a little wild soon.” 

You both look at the crowd on the dance floor, surprised that so many people are already swaying to the beat and most of the tables are full with diners. The event planner is wrapped around Jimin, body gyrations bordering on dangerously inappropriate for a work party. NaBi laughs at the display before leaving you alone to join her work husband, Jungkook, at a table near the thrusting lovebirds. 

Heading to the buffet line, you decide to eat before you order a second drink, wanting to keep some semblance of control over your gross motor functions and not end up as the gossip all over the WeVerse App.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Wow, Kicks…you look amazing.”

You try your best to turn around slowly, but the alcohol seems to come out of nowhere and you’re a little wobbly on your platform pumps. Luckily, you didn’t choose a stiletto, or you might have fallen straight into your boss.

“Hello, sir. Thank you.” You blink a few times, trying to get his handsome face to stop turning into triplets. 

“Why are you hiding up here?” He looks down at your coworkers from where you’re both standing against the clear railing of the balcony. “Are you okay? Too much to drink?”

“You know? I think the juice tricked me. It was sweet so I had a few more than I usually would…now you have twin brothers.”

Seokjin guffaws loudly, but the music is now so loud it doesn’t draw anyone’s attention.

“You look a bit flushed, do you want me to get you some water?”

“Actually, yes, can we go get water? I was afraid to go downstairs in case I tripped and fell.”

Seokjin nods, offering his arm to you so that you can balance as he walks you over to the stairs to guide you down them safely. You thank him as he leads the way to the bar, loosening his bowtie as he motions for two water bottles. You fan your face as he uses one hand to pick up the bottles placed on the bar, and taking in your current state, Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back to head towards the outdoor access entrance through the glass wall. 

The winter chill of the night air is soothing to your hot skin and you sink into the patio loveseat to rest your heels and your eyes.

“Here,” the crackling of the water bottle opening signals you to reach your hand out blindly and grasp the cool plastic.

A big gulp and deep breath help immensely, and you feel the loveseat dip as Seokjin drops down next to you. His body heat radiates comfortingly, and you catch yourself cuddling into his side. You miss the way Seokjin’s eyes sparkle at the initiation of touch. 

“So, despite cutting costs, the annual holiday party turned out pretty well, I think,” Seokjin says, raising his water to his plush lips to drink before continuing, “did you have fun?”

“We’re still here, but yes, I am having fun. Thank you for getting me outside. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good,” he murmurs as you curl into him more, seeking his heat. He hesitates before lowering his arm around the back of the loveseat, resting it behind you as if to welcome you into his space more. “I can’t believe it’s already December.”

You sit upright, a gasp leaving your mouth as his words ring in your eyes. 

“Oh my god, it’s December.”

“I know I just said tha—”

“I missed your birthday!”

Seokjin watches your face as it cycles through all of the stages of grief before settling on a pouty acceptance. 

“It’s no big deal, I didn’t get to celebrate much with everything going on right now. We’ve had to stay late and double check the daily financial reports, and I’ve been meeting with the department heads and it’s not a big birthday anyways. Next year though, you better remember.”

You nod solemnly, tipsiness clouding your ability to see through his playful manner. “Yes, sir. I will, I promise.”

Seokjin chuckles at your seriousness, hand moving to the top of your head where he smooths down the pieces that were disturbed when you had leaned into him. You preen at the touch, chest pushing into his side as you close your eyes and enjoy the feel of his fingers against your hair. 

“You’re cute when you drink.”

You glare at him as best as you can, but it just makes him laugh harder. 

“So, what do you want for your birthday? Or for Christmas since I missed this year?”

Seokjin’s face turns thoughtful, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes look to the night sky in thought. 

“I think…I just want my father to recognize how much I actually care about the company. I’m trying to be the best CFO I can be, but man, if by Christmas he can relax from hounding me over the finances, that would be fucking great. If not, by next year we better be as far from the red as possible.”

His words strike a chord with you. The past week that you’ve been working hard at the mitigation plans and finance approvals, you didn’t even take into account how busy Seokjin was—to the point he didn’t even make a fuss about his birthday. He’d actually been really helpful, providing you with information to make your job easier.  

“We will be, Jin,” you promise, “you’re doing a great job helping me with mitigating things. Speaking of—I wish we could mitigate her.” You stare pointedly through the window back into the building, where a very drunk Park Jimin has his white shirt unbuttoned seductively low as an equally drunk Ji-Soo is taking pictures of him with her phone. 

“Ji-Soo? She’s harmless.”

“No one who has slept with a C-Suite executive is ever harmless to a company. Workplace romances rarely work out. She isn’t harmless; she’s a risk, and untouchable right now.”

A strong gust causes Seokjin to shiver, unconsciously pulling you closer to his body and you seek his warmth. Closing your eyes, you cuddle into his broad chest as you listen to him continue with the conversation.  

“She’s just the front desk secretary, Kicks.”

“Exactly. A lower level employee who has slept with both Kim Namjoon, the CEO, and Park Jimin, a board member’s son—who knows who else is on the list. She can choose to sell her stories to the highest bidder, at any time, for any reason. But she does her job, so we have no reason to fire her that wouldn’t be contestable in a court.”

“Ohhhh,” Seokjin’s eyebrows raise cutely, “the risk is that she could cause us to spend money in court, be tied up in litigation, or spend money on a settlement.”

“I knew you were the CFO for a reason,” you smile up at him from where he has you comfortably tucked, and he looks so handsome from this view.

“Ah, Kicks, you need to have a little fun in your life. No risk, no reward.” He winks at you, and under the city lights, he looks dazzling. “I would also like to point out something you may or may not be privy to…but I happen to know there are currently four successful workplace romances happening at this moment. They’re cute,” he sighs wistfully, “I wish I had a cute work boo.”  

“Yes, I am privy to this knowledge, seeing as I work with you, gossip queen,” you tease, “but also, relationships can look one way to outsiders, but in reality, there could be all sorts of issues, abuse, infidelity, petty arguments…”

“Yeah, those are my friends outside of work—accusing them of abuse and cheating is a bit of a reach to try and prove your singular example right.” He looks at you thoughtfully. “I bet if we were dating, we would easily be successful. Not everything is a risk.”

“If we were dating, we wouldn’t be stupid like them,” you nod back to where the two lovebirds are canoodling in the shadowed corner of the room, “but still risky nonetheless.”

“How about this…I’ll take you out on a few dates, and we can see if anyone we work with catches wind of our fake relationship. I think we could keep it under wraps for two weeks.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“How about those pretty Jimmy Choo heels you were eyeing? Prove me wrong and they’re yours.”

You feel your eyes grow wide, imagining those coveted heels on your feet as you walk into work once the new year rolls in.

“I’m feeling like I may regret this in the morning, but what the hell, I want those shoes…It’s a deal.”

📈📈📈📈📈

The following Sunday evening finds you lounging around at home, cleaning and doing laundry as you sip a glass of red wine and come up with your list of rules for your challenge with Seokjin. In the light of day and with sober minds, you texted each other, realizing that you need some way to measure the challenge. Also, he needed to make sure that you weren’t set on sabotaging the relationship from jump, just to get the shoes. 

Jin (8:47 PM): I’ve thought about it, and here are my rules. Okay? We’re dating, so act like we’re dating but be discreet and don’t tell anyone and win on purpose. You (8:47 PM): That’s…so professional of you. Jin (8:48 PM): There you go again… You (8:49 PM): Shut up. You (8:50 PM): Anyways, here’s what I came up with: [Link to spreadsheet]  No telling anyone that we’re dating during these 2 weeks ~Saturday Dec 9 - Saturday Dec 23 Must go on 6 dates, 3 each week, with at least one date each week right after work, where you drive us  Have to attend two meetings together with other coworkers and successfully get away with the following: Disappear at the same time from desk/office during peak work hours for 30 minutes, twice during week 2 without anyone growing suspicious of the two of us missing Jin (9:02 PM): I appreciate your attention to detail, but also, you kind of take the fun out of the dating part. You (9:04 PM): You want to make sure I don’t cheat, and I want to make sure you don’t either. So, in order to test this accurately, we need to be able to measure it. By having set actions and goals we have to get away with, I think this is the best way to determine who wins in the end. Jin (9:05 PM): We could just act like a couple and wing it, but I guess knowing what to do with you is easier. You like being touched…noted. You (9:06 PM): Don’t make it awkward. Jin (9:06 PM): You didn’t mention kissing at work? Are we doing that? I think it would be fun. Jin (9:08 PM): Or does that come with the sneaking away? Should I pick up some listerine for the office? Any preference on condom brands or flavors? You: {Left on Read}

📈📈📈📈📈

Sitting at your desk, your eyes drag to the bottom corner of the computer screen to the email alert. Clicking it open, you see a message from Seokjin with weekly reports he’s run for your review. As you begin to open the spreadsheets he’s sent, you notice he’s changed his signoff at the end of the email.

Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa

You hold back a gag, unable to believe the audacity he has, before it turns into a giggle. He really has no shame, you think, deciding two can play this game. Hitting reply, you send him a thank you, making sure to sign off in like.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretch before diving into the work he sent. 

Time seems to fly by, with the sun filtering into your office slowly moving across the carpet. You don’t notice, so engrossed in your work as you are, that Seokjin is leaning in your doorway, eyes watching you with a soft smile. 

“Ready to go, baby girl?”

Seokjin’s voice startles you, breaking your concentration. Your boss has changed out of his business suit slacks, a crisp pair of blue jeans tailored to fit his body now gracing his frame as his button down disappears into the waistband. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, revealing his expensive watch and veins as he flexes involuntarily. 

“Seokjin!” you gasp out, clutching a hand to your chest above your now racing heart.

“Now, is that any way to address your boyfriend who is about to take you out on a date?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Fake boyfriend, you mean,” you correct, gathering your purse onto your shoulder as you lock your computer before looking down to arrange the printed reports neatly.

“Real enough for the next two weeks, baby girl,” he counters, voice significantly closer. 

You feel the warmth of his body pressing into your backside as he envelops you in a hug, his face nuzzling into your neck as if seeking comfort. Freezing, your body betrays you as a burst of butterflies flit around your tummy and your neck cranes as if to accommodate his face, waiting for him to plant a kiss on your sweet spot. 

Instead he steps back, and it takes you a few seconds to regain your composure.

“I’m gonna regret signing my email as that, aren’t I?” you question, following him out of your office.

“Hmm, it's possible, but more likely, you’ll prefer it to Kicks and ask me not to stop calling you that.”

“Doubt it,” you mumble, though your conscious thought is looking at you skeptically. It’s been one day, and your body is already taking this fake relationship as reality.

“We’ll see,” is his only response, though after the two of you step into the elevator, he reaches for your hand.

“You’re quite the touchy-feely boyfriend, Jinnie-Oppa,” you tease.

“Because I know it’s what you like. I know you’ve identified set things you’d like to do to test the relationship, but I’m more of a go with the flow guy, y’know? And I have a reputation to protect. Fake or not, I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Again, the traitorous butterflies appear, and they remain long after he’s dropped your hand to walk across the lobby to the parking garage entrance, looking mischievously around the lot as he opens the passenger side door to let you into his car. 

Date number one surprises you, as you’re expecting Seokjin to resort to either typical chaebol actions, like a fancy reservation at an upscale restaurant, or be lazy with his choice, and take you to something owned by his family. Seokjin did neither, instead he surprises you with a fun outing. He swings by your place, telling you to change into something casual and you’re glad you did. Zzang Games, located in Hongdae, is a multi-floor entertainment center, perfect for competing or pairing up for various arcade and VR games. 

For a Monday evening it's not too busy, mostly tourists and students on the claw machines and engaged in battle royales, and you think it’s pretty smart of Seokjin to choose this. Your coworkers most likely would not be out at a place like this on a weekday, so you’re less likely to get caught, and as a date, it’s definitely the type of relaxed setting that would allow two people to learn more about each other. If that was something the two of you were interested in, which it’s not. Right? 

Later that night in bed, you fall asleep thinking about how much fun you had with Seokjin and that maybe he’s right about workplace romances, but if he is, then you can kiss those Jimmy Choo shoes goodbye...

Seokjin wasn’t lying to you when he said he would be the best boyfriend you’ve ever experienced in the two weeks assigned to dating, and it’s only been three days. Yesterday, you received a delivery of flowers discreetly signed from Your Lover. Several of the women that share your floor asked about the blooming perennials, curious to know who they came from. You just said it was a new thing, much like the vase full of buds that was blossoming; not yet a relationship, but still something nonetheless. 

Today, just before you head to the Tuesday weekly meeting, Seokjin comes into your office to deliver you a cold French vanilla latte with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle across the fluffy topping. 

“Well isn’t this sweet,” you say with a thank you, instantly mouthing at the whipped cream. You watch as Seokjin’s eyes follow your lips as you try and get the excess cream off the sides of your mouth. Turning away from you, he moves to leave. You follow, ready for the meeting, when Seokjin stops abruptly, turning on his heel in the doorway. 

“What—”

His plush lips land on yours, a hand moving to the back of your hair to hold you in place as he gently bites your bottom lip before pulling away from the unexpected kiss.

“You missed a spot, Kicks, didn’t want anyone else coming to your rescue in the meeting.”

He steps away, resuming his path to the conference room as you blink feverishly at his departing silhouette. It takes you a few seconds to gather your wits and hustle after him, heels click-clacking on the tile as you hurry to catch up.

📈📈📈📈📈

Meetings lately suck. 

Ever since you, or, the finance department, has been put on the hot seat, it feels like everyone is looking to you to fix things that aren’t your area of concern. It doesn’t help that you and Seokjin have made this stupid bet to see who is right about workplace romances. All so you can have those coveted Jimmy Choos. 

“Thank you Taehyung, I’m sure the board will be able to vote on your proposal after reviewing the presentation.” The CEO’s voice snaps you back from where you’re daydreaming, face still warm and mouth tingling from your fake lover’s amorous encounter earlier. Absent-mindedly you run a finger across your bottom lip, not really listening to a word any of your coworkers have to say. 

“Next up will be an update on the finances—we’ll take a quick five minute break before we resume.”

You jump when you feel a hand on your thigh, a soft pressure as Seokjin turns your chair gently towards himself.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you want me to present this time,” he says lowly into your ear. You feel the breath of his words caress your neck, a shiver rolling down your spine at how close he is. His hand then moves to your back, and to anyone in the room watching, it would look like two work partners preparing for their presentation. 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Maybe because you look a little…flustered. Don’t worry baby girl, this presentation’s on me.” Seokjin grasps your hand under the conference room table, and you don’t really hear anything else he says as he brings his other hand to the tablet in front of you, clicking a few things so he can connect to the projector now that Taehyung has packed away his materials. “That was much longer than five seconds, I think I’m killing it.”

“Huh?” you question, confused.

He releases your fingers from where they were intertwined with his own, raising his hand to wiggle his five left fingers in your face with a smug look. 

“Just sit here and look pretty, darling,” he jokes, but his eyes look serious when he swoops his hand over your ear, tucking away a wayward strand before standing to present, “and can you click through the slides for me?” he says this part louder, drawing everyone’s attention to you. 

You can only nod, bashful and confused, and curse Kim Seokjin for being so goddamn charming, and so damn good at this game. 

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

Date number two the following day is your idea—a nice tandem bike ride along the Han River before sunset. The temperature is chilly, but you make sure to warn Seokjin in advance so he meets you wearing a warm fluffy white jacket, a matching beanie, and gloves. He’s thankful you let him know to dress warmly.

Seoul winters have 5 AM sunrises and near 8 PM sunsets, so the view along the river is gorgeous, a clear Wednesday with barely a cloud in the sky. Seokjin can’t believe he actually works up a sweat during the leisurely ride, but with the sun still out and no clouds to offer any shade, when the two of you finish your trip, he strips off his jacket for a breather. 

He notices the way you eye his arms as they flex to grab his wallet from his back pocket so he can pay for your hot cocoa. It makes him feel good about himself, and his chances with you once this competition is over. What better way to make you fall for him and realize dating him is feasible, than by a trial run—as he likes to call it. 

Seokjin is aware that you play by the rules, not just in work, where it’s expected, but in your day to day too, in relationships with coworkers and how you move through life. The only time he’s witnessed you behave in a way that goes against this is when you splurge to buy heels online. He feels like it was pure luck that he was able to finesse his trial run relationship with you, but he knows it is the data that you need to prove it’s worth the risk—he’s worth the risk. 

When you shiver from the breeze coming off of the river, he wastes no time layering his fluffy jacket over your thin, long-sleeve athletic shirt, loving the way the jacket dwarfs you despite your heeled boots—yes, even when riding bikes, you make sure to have that slight lift that makes your ass sit ever so nicely in your jeans. 

He enjoys the way you snuggle yourself deeper into his jacket, subtly inhaling the scent of his cologne and it’s just another confirmation to himself that maybe you could really turn this into something real with him, that maybe you like him back. He played it safe with the first date, and your choice for today is cute, but he doesn’t have much time to prove to you that he’s serious. He knows that the next date is the time for him to turn up the heat.

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

The atmosphere in the restaurant for date three is so far removed from the arcade of date one, you don’t really know how to behave. You use the term restaurant loosely, seeing as you are currently floating along the Han River. A candlelight dinner on a ferry at sunset was not what you expected from Seokjin. Looking around the room, you can’t help but notice how many of the tables are empty in comparison to what your friends have told you about this experience, but you’re sure Seokjin pulled some strings. There’s maybe seven other couples in the room. He confirms as much as he pulls your attention back to him. 

“I bought out as many of the tables as I could to ensure your utmost devotion during our date, and still you can’t keep your eyes on me,” he jokes, bringing his wine glass to his lips, “but some people had already purchased tables and I couldn’t get them to refund it.” Your eyes follow the burgundy liquid as it slips between his lips, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows it down. You tug at the form-fitting maroon dress you have on, one that Seokjin presented to you before leaving work to make the reservation.

“I was just wondering why it was so empty, but now that I know, I promise to focus on you.” You hate how much you don’t hate how the words sound; Seokjin is a sight to behold as the sun begins its descent below the horizon, and you find that you don’t want to look away from him. It’s a bit confusing for you because there’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t want to like this. He’s your boss, for one, and two, your competitive side is thinking about the fact that you want those shoes. Plus, you also like to be right. Though if you’re being honest with yourself—

“All women do is lie,” Seokjin says, paired with a firm settling down of the glass goblet onto the tablecloth. “Promising to focus on me, and then daydreaming seconds after—unless you were daydreaming about me?”

“Yes, daydreaming about strangling you for being so insufferable.”

“Didn’t know you were also into asphyxiation, but I will add that to the list alongside ‘likes to be touched’.”

You want to wipe the smirk off of his face. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that this is Kim Seokjin, and no matter how he seems to fool you for a moment, give it a few minutes and he will say something to reign it back in. 

“So, I know we’re going to run this relationship for two weeks, and I thought about the perfect way to figure out if we pass or fail.”

You nod as you take a bite of the filet mignon on the plate before you. “Oh, do tell,” you implore, chewing delicately so as to not appear impolite. 

“Be my date to Namjoon’s Christmas party.” Seokjin’s nonchalant tone throws you for a loop and you miss the connection between the two things.

“Be your—excuse me,” you cough, clearing your throat from when you inhaled unceremoniously. “You want me to be your date to the CEO’s Christmas party?”

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense. When we arrive, everyone will either act surprised seeing us as a couple, or think that I invited you as my friendly, plus-one coworker. Either way, we can use that as the true test to see if we passed or failed.” Seokjin grins proudly, waiting for you to applaud his brilliance.  

“Hmm, it does seem like a good idea.” You look back at your food, hiding the fact that you were confused earlier. “I’m assuming the people invited will be people who attend meetings with us or work with us regularly?”

“Obviously, I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll be your date.”

“Great. I’ll forward you the e-vite later tonight so you can prepare yourself for it, I know how you are.”

You smile softly at him; despite his teasing tone, you know that the act of sending you the details is one that shows he knows you and cares to some degree about your comfortability. He’s seen you freak out a few times over lack of information before meetings or events that you’ve had to attend for the company. You wonder what other things he’s filed away about you to make sure that you’re taken care of, so to speak. Maybe this is also who Kim Seokjin is. His duality is throwing you for a loop.

Before you can think of a way to safely broach that topic, the live band playing shifts to a song you recognize, but without lyrics, you can’t name it just yet. 

“I love this song!” Seokjin surprises you when he comments, proffering a hand to you. “Do you want to dance?”

In the fading sunlight, his eyes sparkle with a joyful playfulness that you can’t say no to. Taking his hand, you allow him to pull you towards an opening, thanks to the lack of patrons on board, and gathering you into his arms, the two of you sway to the beat. 

You are acutely aware that his hands are placed right at the small of your back, pinkies bordering the curve of your ass as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 

“Relax a little, can you look like you actually enjoy dancing with me?”

“Sorry, I—” 

“Shhh, just dance with me—you look beautiful by the way.” He smiles down at you, and you comply, wrapping your hands to rest casually around his neck to loosen your stiff posture as you try to hide the heat rising to your face.

As the music plays, you hear Seokjin humming gently along to it before he begins to sing lightly. “Say my name and everything just stops, I don’t want you like a best friend…Only bought this dress so you can take it off, take it off, ah ah ah~.”

Hearing the lyrics jogs your memory of the song, and you remember how much of a fan Seokjin is of Taylor Swift. Until the words catch up to your brain and you look up at him scandalized.

“Only bought me this dress so you can take it off?” you ask, trying to step away from him, but his hold on you is firm. 

“Kicks, everything that I buy you from here on out, I would love to remove from your body, except for the heels.” He doesn’t look at you, playfully swirling you around in a circle with a smile, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that you can’t shake. You bite your lip, unable to stop the racing thoughts as he takes one of your hands from where you’ve moved them to his chest, spinning you in a circle on the dance floor as the band continues to play. 

He pulls you close again, this time with your back to his front and keeps hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“Are you having fun yet?” he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I’m dancing with you, aren’t I?” you deflect, and he chuckles knowingly.

Seokjin resumes his gentle singing, swaying with you as other guests begin to dance and waiters clear the finished entrees so they could prepare for dessert. As the song finally ends, you walk back to your seat, sitting gingerly to combat the pooling between your thighs from the friction dancing must have caused. Rubbing up against someone is just a part of dancing. What else could explain the slight bulge you felt nestled between your cheeks as you swayed in Seokjin’s arms? 

The small crystal bowls of strawberry gelato are a nice distraction to cool down the heat you feel around your throat and cheeks, but watching the way that Seokjin’s lips wrap around the metal spoon to gently suck at the ice cream, smoothing down the scoop of pink dessert sitting on it, well, it doesn’t help as much as one would hope. 

When you’ve both finished and the boat begins to dock back into the wharf, Seokjin comes to your side, offering you a hand to help you stand. You grasp it, but as you stand, the ferry lurches on the water, and you stumble into his chest. The motion causes him to fall backwards taking you with him as he attempts to protect you on the fall. 

As the boat settles, you look up, seeing that you’ve landed side-saddle style on Seokjin’s lap, his legs bent to the side opposite of where yours are. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders still, your faces much closer than you’ve ever found them to be. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, arms tightening from where they’re wrapped around your waist.

“Mmhmm,” you nod, the act bringing your lips closer to his with every upward movement.

“You sure, Kicks?” he breathes out even quieter, face inching ever so closer. 

“Never better,” you answer, a rush of air caressing his lips, so close you feel the blowback of it, and an urge like never before comes over you to just lean in and taste the strawberry off his lips.

And just as his lips begin to touch yours, a flurry of activity from the ship's stewards pulls you apart as they check on your wellbeing. They help you climb off of Seokjin’s lap, apologizing profusely for the boat’s severe rocking and offering coupons on drinks and food and a free trip to save from receiving a bad review. You let Seokjin negotiate with the workers, focusing solely on your breathing. You do this as you leave, as Seokjin drives you home, and as you stand in the steaming shower attempting to scrub yourself of his touch, of the feelings they elicit from you, and what it might mean.

But there’s nothing that you can do to stop the images that infiltrate your thoughts as you dream of a satin dress falling to the floor, strawberry lips that cover every inch of your skin, and your high-heel-clad feet resting on his shoulders.     

Work the next day is weird to say the least, as you expected to be bombarded with Seokjin smirking and strutting around the office, but when you arrive, he’s nowhere to be seen. In order to keep your mind free of all of the newly budding feelings, you throw yourself into your work, following up on the financial reports for the week so far to track the flow of money within the company and see if the different measures you’ve put into place have made a difference in the end-of-fiscal-year outcome and if the company is in the black once more. 

The day seems to go by fast, with Seokjin never appearing in the finance department at all, and no encounters with him when you left to grab food with NaBi, Khaity, Khaity’s best friend Leah, and Hana. You expected to see him round the corner and enter your office at least once you were back from lunch, but he doesn’t appear, and instead of feeling relief at avoiding what you feel will be an awkward encounter, you feel nervous and worried about where he’s at. 

After spinning aimlessly in your desk chair, having read the same line in the report seven times, you reach for your phone, finger hovering over his name. Would an email be more appropriate? It was working hours and you’ve never really called him outside of work like this before. You decide to call anyway, brain already coming up with a way to write it off as part of the challenge much like he did the whip cream kiss, when he answers. 

“Hello?” he answers, a little breathless, and you pause, confused at the sounds you hear in the background. “Kicks?” 

You’re about to answer when you hear a feminine voice from the background, asking who Kicks is.

“Give me a moment,” you hear him say, followed by the background sounds fading a bit as he steps away from wherever he’s located. He says your name, but you’re still stuck on what you’ve heard. “Baby girl?” he tries, and it works, breaking you from your green-eyed stupor.

“I’m here,” you respond, voice lowered as you try and navigate the feeling in your chest. 

“Is something wrong? You’re worrying me.”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just haven’t seen you at work today—”

“Oh, I had a dentist appointment this morning, but Namjoon sent me to meet with some fiduciary specialists and can you believe they don’t have elevators in their building? I had to walk four flights of stairs and I was so worried something was wrong and I was going to have to run back down those four flights to get to you—”

Your peals of laughter halt his rambling, and he stays quiet as you taper off into light giggles. 

“No, everything is fine, sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

“No, I forgot to put it into the calendar so you would know, I’m sorry if I worried you. This woman who looks old enough to be my grandma is glaring at me though, so let me finish this meeting and then I’ll fill you in on what I learned tomorrow.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m coming now—okay, babe, be good, bye!”

The phone clicks off and you set it down, utterly confused at the ease with which he called you a pet name; it wasn’t done teasingly, but more like a slip, as if he always referred to you as such and was comfortable with doing so. But even more pressing is the way you feel, no longer anxious at Seojin’s unknown whereabouts, no longer jealous of him being around another woman sounding suspiciously out of breath, and tummy all aflutter at him calling you babe.

📈📈📈📈📈

“Friday, fighting!” NaBi calls out as you both head towards the entrance; her weekly Friday morning greeting makes you wave at her. 

“I hope you have a great day, NaBi!” you say as you both make your way towards the elevator. You expect to see NaBi press the button to Namjoon’s floor, since she is essentially his personal assistant and secretary, but instead she chooses to go to a different floor, IT. 

“Same to you, I’m sure it will be a great Friday. Any more horrid meetings?” she asks, privy to the situation thanks to her role within the company.

“No, thank god. We’re back to our weekly Tuesday meetings, and luckily, since they know Jin and I are working on the finances, they’ve left me alone for most of them.”

“That’s good, I hope Jin isn’t working you to the bone,” NaBi quips, and you have to stop yourself from sharing your latest thoughts and feelings. 

“No, no, everything is good there, he’s actually been really attentive and helpful with trying to fix all of the wanton spending, so hopefully there’s no more vile meetings with the crusty old board members.”

As the doors slide open to the IT department, NaBi steps out, a large smile on her face as she looks towards a specific open door.

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” you ask pointedly, nodding towards a certain muscle bunny’s office before the elevator has a chance to close. 

“When you wear sneakers to work!” she laughs out, waving you off.

“Never!”

📈📈📈📈📈

The weekend seems to go by quickly because you’re still working remotely on financial reports in your pajamas, so despite the turmoil you feel about everything, it gets set to the back burner. You remember late on Sunday that it’s once again your turn to plan the date for the following day, and so while you may not wear sneakers ever to the office or even tandem bike riding in winter, you will rock the heck out of the blue, red and tan bowling shoes when your competitive side strikes. And after such a romantic, sexually charged date, you want to try and put some space between you and Seokjin once again. 

Your pep talk to yourself on the way to work Monday morning consists of you reminding yourself that this isn’t real. 

“Seokjin’s unserious, you know he’s not capable of real emotions.” Your face looks back at you from the reflection in the window on the bus. “The date meant nothing. He’s just playing with you because he can. He wants you to let your guard down and forget the true game is afoot.” The man behind you on the bus looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind talking to yourself and you pretend you’re talking to someone on the phone. “You are in this to prove to Seokjin that dating at work is risky because people always find out, and thus win a pair of heels. Nothing more.” 

But if what you told yourself this morning is the case, why do you want to sit and watch Seokjin run his fingers through his hair as he combs it out of his face? Why do you want to stare into his coffee-colored eyes as he talks to you about different techniques for bowling? You could care less about bowling skills, but watching the words come from between his pink pillow lips makes it mesmerizing. 

“Do you want bumpers?” he asks as he finishes lacing his shoes.

You shoot him a glare before answering, “No, I do not need bumpers, I’m decent at bowling, thank you very much.”

You aren’t lying either, you have pretty good hand eye coordination, but it has been several years since you’ve last gone bowling. You can typically score in the range of seventies to the hundreds, not a gutterball queen like he assumes. You hope to dazzle him with your abilities. 

“Okay, I think I’m going to use the 12-pound ball, what size do you need? A 7 or 8-pound?”  

“An 8-pound please! I sometimes use a 7 or a 9-pound when I need speed or to slow down for precision, but I’ll start with the 8 for now.” You stand and stretch, missing Seokjin’s eyes rove your figure.

“Got it boss, I’ll deliver you an 8-pounder.” Jin chuckles to himself as he grabs the two large spheres from the rack.

“Why does it sound like you’re planning to give me a newborn?”

“My mother and father would be happy to have a grandchild, now that I think about it,” Seokjin winks as he places the bowling balls into the ball return. 

“Kim Seokjin, sometimes I really just want to bang yo—”

“Me against the wall outside in the alleyway? I won’t lie, that would be a good way to get my parents started on a grandchild.”

“Ugh! Please just bowl, it’s your turn.” You sit down and cross your arms, irritated with his quips. He’s the most unserious person you have ever met, and yet he still manages to push the boundaries of unserious levels daily. 

Despite this, you are enjoying yourself as date four progresses, with game one ending with you beating Seokjin, and game two causing a tie to declare who is the best at bowling. Game three starts off the same, but halfway through, now pleasantly pliant with several soju shots, you both are giggling a lot more, being playful with trick shots. 

“Okay, okay, that was surprisingly accurate,” you laugh as Seokjin rights himself from where he had bent over to throw the bowling ball between his legs. You step up with your bowling ball, poised to be dramatic like you’ve seen people do on TV.

“Always the look of surprise from you, I am actually quite talented at many things, especially when it comes to using my hands.” His eyebrows wiggle suggestively, but with his face flushed red from being upside down and from alcohol, it is more comical than sexy. 

The burst of laughter that follows throws you off balance. One second, you are gearing up to do a ‘professional’ throw, left hand bracing the ball you have held in your right, three fingers balancing the weight, but when your hand swings back, he says his lewd saying and instead of releasing the ball when your arm pendulums forward, you keep hold of it. The weight of the ball still attached to your fingers propels you forward and you lose your footing on the overly slick flooring of the lane. 

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the curse escaping your mouth as you try your best to maintain your footing, but your ankle rolls as your body topples onto the resin-coated wood floor. You cry out from the twinge it causes, a shooting pain traveling along the side of your leg.

Seokjin laughs, loud squeaks that resemble windshield wipers that have seen better days, and while you are nearly in tears from the stinging ache, you start to laugh too as you hold your ankle slightly above the ground.

“Jin, stop laughing, it hurts!” you giggle through the tears, and the bouncing from the laughter jostles your ankle and you let out a whimper. He’s next to you instantly, still chuckling as he tries to soothe you. 

“I’m sorry, but that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” he wipes away a tear and then touches your leg gingerly. “Does it hurt here?”

You nod. “Yes, it’s similar to shin splints, but on the side.”

“Can you stand?” Seokjin offers his hands to you and you pull yourself up onto one leg, too afraid to put any weight on the hurt ankle. Your bowling ball lay forgotten as you hobble to the nearest seat. “I meant like can you put weight on it, but it appears you can’t…We only had three frames left anyways, let’s call it a night for bowling.” He looks at you with sympathy. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

“No, I promise, it’ll be fine, just some ice and I’ll prop it up on a few pillows.”

Seokjin puts away the bowling balls and cleans up a little while you slowly loosen the laces. You transition one boot back on, and he comes back over to you in time to help gently remove the other bowling shoe off your foot. 

“Let me return our shoes and then I’ll help you to the car.”

You stretch as far as you can reach to gather your purse and test the mobility of your ankle, hoping to avoid being carried bridal style out. It still hurts and looks a little swollen, but you’ve done this a few times as an adolescent so you already know how to treat it. Seokjin squats down in front of you, giving you his back so that you can climb on and he can koala-carry you out of the building. 

Hesitantly you wrap your arms around his neck, realizing that this position is much worse than if he had chosen the bridal style. Now you know exactly how well he fits between your thighs, how firmly his hands wrap under your thighs. There’s no way to distance yourself from him as you physically have to rely on him to transport you to the car, your breasts pressing into his back.

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t make any jokes as he carts you out, just asks after your pain and comfort levels. Once he’s parked outside of your building, he helps you to your door. You draw the line there though, not letting him come in.

“We have work tomorrow, I’m just going to take some painkillers, take a quick shower, grab some ice and pillows, then sleep. Promise, I won’t do anything strenuous.” 

“Fine. On one condition though. I’m picking you up to take you to work the rest of the week until it heals.” Seokjin looks at you with eyes that showcase his finality, and you agree so you can escape him. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs at 7:30 sharp,” you acquiesce, “and Seokjin…thank you.”

“Anything for you, I told you, as your boyfriend these two weeks, I’ll be the best boyfriend—as long as you let me.” 

Before you can protest, he leans down and kisses your forehead gently, and he disappears from sight before you’ve moved to shut the door. 

Seokjin’s POV

Watching as you walk gingerly into the Tuesday morning meeting, Seokjin shakes his head at you remembering your refusal this morning to change into flats or sneakers, so Seokjin only agrees to allow you to continue to work if you sport an ankle wrap under your heeled boot. He stops at Daiso before parking, but because of the time, he lets you out with a promise to put it on once you get to your office. 

“Why are you limping so badly? The bandage should be giving you more support than that, is it on correctly?” Seokjin asks as you walk to your seat next to him. He stands to pull out the wheely chair for you, one hand on your back to guide you into the seat and the other holding your hand as you lower yourself to get comfortable. 

“I haven’t put it on yet,” you reply, avoiding eye contact. He returns to his chair sending you a searing stare full of judgment.

“Kicks, the longer it takes your ankle to heal, the longer I can’t enjoy seeing you in heels. You know I love how you look in heels.” His hand grazes along the top of your thigh, but you clamp a hand on top of his to stop the movement. 

“I knew you had an ulterior motive!” 

He chuckles, but it fades away as you seem to take advantage of the situation and thread your fingers through his. He fully expects that after ten seconds you’ll pull away and go back to taking notes on what the CEO says as he talks to the group. Except that you don’t, instead settling into the meeting, holding hands with Seokjin for far longer than necessary, not that he’s complaining. 

Once the meeting adjourns, you disappear back to your office faster than Seokjin thought possible with an injured ankle, but he takes advantage of the time to shoot an email to Namjoon and Yoongi before going to gather some items. It’s not long before he appears in your doorway. 

“Come with me, and bring your wrap,” he demands, though his tone is not harsh. He can’t be mad at you, not when you’ve provided him with the perfect opportunity.

With a sigh, you hobble over to the door and follow as he leads you around a few corners until you’re alone in one of the many break rooms in the building. This one in particular is similar to the library where the holiday party was held, but smaller, with a conference table in the middle of the sun-filled room.

Seokjin leads you to the table, and preemptively picks you up by your underarms to place you on the table before you can resist. He makes sure to be gentle as he lifts your leg to the table, undoing your boot so he can check your ankle out. You’re wearing loose slacks today, which makes it easier for him to access your sprain. Delicately, he smoothes the pant leg up your leg, his hand warming as it skates across your skin. 

He swears he hears an intake of breath from the touch, a reflection of the sparks he’s feeling, but instead of calling attention to it, afraid of scaring you off, he reaches behind you, retrieving the bag of ice wrapped in paper towels. Settling onto the tabletop, he puts your foot in his lap.

“This might be a little cool, but we need to treat the swelling.”

The moment feels oddly intimate, and it’s Seokjin’s turn now to duck his head and avoid eye contact. He adjusts the ice pack onto your ankle, one hand cupping your heel as the other keeps the pack in place on top of your foot. Your foot struggles a little at the frosty feeling, and Seokjin has to maintain his breathing as you unknowingly wiggle atop his crotch. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, settling your hands behind you on the table as you get comfortable. 

“It’s expected,” he returns, and the smile you give him only adds to the hope blossoming in his chest. 

The next twenty minutes are spent talking about everything and nothing, and the last ten he spends tickling the bottom of your foot as he helps slide the bandage onto your ankle, all so he can hear your laugh and have your hands on him as you try to get him to leave your foot alone. 

“I don’t want to kick you in the face, but if you touch the bottom of my foot again, I can’t say I—Jin!” you squeal, wriggling backwards in an attempt to escape, but he just follows you, his body covering yours as you lean back breathlessly on the table. 

“Yes?” His smile is teasing as his arm extends to protect the back of your head as he presses closer to you.

“Please, I can’t take it! I’m too ticklish!”

“But that’s exactly why I can’t stop, Kicks. You’re too cute when you’re flustered, under me like this.”

He sees the exact moment that you notice the precarious position he’s put you in, with Seokjin leaning between your knees, chest to chest as he cradles your head. He didn’t know that he would love the feel of your body under him this much, almost as much as when you were on his lap on the boat. He can smell one of the fragrances you carry, whether it be your shampoo, a perfume, or just a natural scent, he already knows if he can’t make this thing with you real, he’s going to miss it.   

“Jin,” he watches you bring your hands to his chest, expecting you to push him away, but to his surprise—and probably your own he suspects—you don’t. He stares at you, drinking in all of the things he’s grown to love about your features over time: the way your eyebrows furrow in thought, lips slightly parted as breaths escape them, and gorgeous eyes wide in wonder as you look back at him. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This close up, he watches as your face changes slightly, lips closing to a shy smile, cheek more prominent and your eyes glittering at the compliment. If you plan to ask him later about the kiss, he’ll tell you it was him if it keeps you from getting scared off, but he sees you move first, clear as day in the reflecting sun. You lift your head out of his hand where it’s cradled, pressing your lips to his and he lets out a tiny groan to rival the throaty moan you release as his tongue seeks entry into your mouth. 

He’s both happy and sad at the position he has you in, because while it allows him to be here like this, kissing you, it also doesn’t allow for much more and is becoming quite uncomfortable as he attempts to keep his weight from crushing you. His tongue plays with yours for a few more moments before he tapers off, slowing the progression of the kiss to playful pecks. 

Once Seokjin is satisfied that you are giggly and pliant, he clambers off of you, reaching both hands out to help pull you back into a seated position on the table.

“So,” he starts, wanting to test and see how he’s doing in terms of winning you over, “am I the best short-term boyfriend you’ve ever had?” He doesn’t notice the way your eyes dim slightly hearing the phrase ‘short-term’, as he’s busying himself with adjusting the ankle bandage before helping you put back on your boot.

Jin is excited to hear you softly reply, “Yes, Jin, you are.”

If he’s a little more aware, maybe he’d be able to pick up on more than just your words, and realize a lot more about how you’re feeling concerning the situation you both are in.   

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

It’s killing you to not be able to talk to your work friends about what’s going on. Seeing as you missed out on lunch yesterday due to your shenanigans with Seokjin, the girls ask a few questions. 

“I got our favorite shrimp tempura sushi to split with you, but I ended up eating it all myself,” Leah pouts at you as you join them today.

A lie easily rolls off your tongue. “Oh, last minute reports were emailed to me, with the deadline coming up thanks to the holidays, they’re running them daily now to look for any sign up upward movement on the graphs.”

They buy it, easily shutting down any romance rumors they could have generated. You realize that you could have told some of the truth, that Seokjin was babying you because you sprained your ankle, and maybe help you win the shoes that started this insanity. Instead, with that little fib, it appears you’ve worked against your best interest, planting no seeds to make the others think something’s going on romantically between you and Seokjin. 

You’ve been so busy with work and secretly dating, you forgot that your girls would be the best chance you have to prove that you are right and Seokjin is wrong. 

Seriously, I could have told most of the truth, and that would have been enough to have the girls ask why Seokjin was taking care of me. I would deny anything they accused, because I can’t break my own rules, but planting that seed would allow them to at least wonder. They might then, as women do, embark on a hunt for the truth. Then when it came time at the party to ask if anyone had found out, they would be the ones to stand up and say yes! But I’m a little too good at this, you say, forehead wrinkled in disdain at yourself, exactly what Seokjin must be banking on to win this thing.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles and then you’ll be single forever!” Hana jokes, and you laugh listlessly.

Maybe it’s time you call someone you can talk to about everything going on. 

📈📈📈📈📈

“Grandma, you don’t understand, he’s unserious on his best days, insufferable on his worst, and…” you pause, adjusting your leg where you have it propped up on a small chair you stole from an empty office. You plan to leave in a few minutes so you can go home and get ready for your date with Seokjin, but wanted to rest your ankle briefly before walking to the bus stop. It doesn’t hurt as much now, but you want to make sure it heals up well to avoid any weakening later.

She hums knowingly in your ear. “Let me guess, he’s handsome, rich, and doesn’t appreciate his status in life.”

“Yes! Exactly, he lives with an all play and no work attitude—”

“And you want him to be your boyfriend,” she tacks on, effectively shutting you down.

“Grandma!”

“What? You called me for some real talk, right?”

You whine, and she laughs, her musical giggle making you miss her.

“Sweetie, listen. I’ve known you your whole life, so I know you pretty well. You like things that are orderly and neat, that fit well into your life. But that’s not much of a fun life. And it’s not what we hoped for you when we sent you off to Seoul.” You hear her sigh, and remain quiet, knowing she’s about to impart something that will stay with you. “It sounds like this Jin guy is exactly the kind of man you need in your life. He’s realized one of the best things about life that most of us don’t realize until it’s too late: Life is not so serious that we need to live a life with regrets. Yes, he has moments where maybe he should behave with a little more…sincerity, but overall, it sounds like you do that enough between the two of you.”

You nod, biting your lip as you take in her words. “Maybe.”

“You’ve been working so hard on your schooling and then your career, and you’ve made it so far! Overcome every academic and career goal thrown at you. But that’s only part of who you are. I think it’s nice that this young man is so attuned to you, that he’s challenging you in areas like love and life.”

“Who said anything about love? We’ve only been seeing each other for a week and a half!”

“No one said you were in love, sweetie, but your defensiveness means you like him a little more than you thought.”

You tuck your phone between your ear and your shoulder, logging into your desktop so you can check some emails while you chat. Multi-tasking always helps you when you need to open up—focusing on a menial task helps cover that feeling in your chest when you discuss said feelings.

“I mean, if I’m honest with myself, yes. He’s surprised me in ways I wasn’t expecting. And I know that two people can kiss when dating, but, I don’t know…is he kissing me because he’s taking advantage of whatever this is, or is he kissing me because he likes me and wants it to be more? I’m confused about what happens next, you know?”

“My smart girl, have you thought about asking him?”

“I can’t just ask him! He’s my boss!” You wish she understood that times are not the same as when she was young.

“Yes, your boss who you are already dating!”

“But not for real! Not after Saturday!”

“What’s happening Saturday?” she questions, and you stall, not wanting to hear what she’s going to say when you tell her the full truth.

“Well, we’ve been going on dates because…we made a bet. To see if workplace romances can be kept secret or not. It started last week and we have set rules so neither of us cheats, and this Saturday is the CEO’s holiday party, which Jin invited me to as his date, and we will see if any of our work friends noticed we were dating or not.”

She laughs heartily, and you hate that she seems so wise about this when you feel so clueless.

“Oh, I needed that laugh. You’re telling me that your boss—a hot, rich executive—made a bet with you to see if workplace romances can work, he’s kissed you a few times and takes you out on dates, drives you to work now that you’ve sprained your ankle, asked you to be his date to another exec’s party, and you’re still confused about where the two of you stand?”

Hearing her put it into this perspective bolsters your confidence a bit. It isn’t like you haven’t already thought about this same formula, but your grandma is missing one term from this equation, and it's your feelings. Your feelings are clouding your ability to act on this information. You tell her just as much.

“I’m just scared. I think that the risk of rejection is overpowering everything for me right now.”

“I know that risk is scary, you think I wasn’t scared when you moved away to attend school? But the reward? Seeing you excel in your career has been so lovely to witness. I’m so proud of you. I just want you to have someone to take care of you when I’m not here anymore.”

You want to fight her on this, but you don’t want to discount her emotions. “I know, and while I’d be fine having you take care of me forever, I think it would only be fair to let you pass the heavy lifting onto someone else.”

“And by the sounds of it, Jin has a nice set of shoulders for that.”

You’re about to answer her when a knock at your door startles you.

“Hold on, Grandma,” you say before raising your voice. “Come in!”

The topic of conversation steps into your office, shutting the door behind him. “Hey, I’m so sorry to do this, but we have to push our date tonight to tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” you question, taking in the way his face is pinched, grumpy.

“Yeah, I mean, no one’s dying or anything, but my dad just sent me an email, summoning me to meet with him about a potential investor.”

“Wouldn’t this typically be Soobin’s job?” you point out. Choi Soobin, the investor relations director for JinHit, typically would meet to discuss potential investors first before looping Seokjin in as CEO.

“Yes, but you know my father…”

“I’m sorry, bab—um, b-but, it’s okay, we can move it to Thursday.” You stumble over the words, trying to cover up the slip of tongue.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m so sorry to do this.”

“No, I get it. You want to prove to your father you got this, and rightfully so. You’ve done amazing helping me with everything, even though you have so much on your plate already.”

“You know good and well that you, Soobin, and the others take on a lot of the responsibilities, I just oversee it. It’s been nice to actually get my hands dirty with work, use my degree.” Seokjin’s phone chimes. After a roll of his eyes, he apologizes again. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” With that last remark and a wink, he leaves your office. You can hear laughter coming from your phone, forgotten in your hand. Bringing your grandma back to your ear, you speak before she can.

“Don’t even start, Grandma. I already know what you’re going to say.” You click on the email invite that Seokjin sent you about the holiday party at Namjoon’s, eyes re-reading the info. “So just help me think of a good present to get him for the party Saturday.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV 

Seokjin can’t help but to grin as he walks back to his office. You almost slipped up and called him babe. Or baby. Either way, he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and tomorrow will be the perfect moment to tell you just how he feels. He hates that he showed up less than a half hour before you get off to cancel, but he would rather give you the respect of doing it in person than over text. 

He scans the subject of the email he received while in your office, seeing it’s a reply to the email he sent yesterday, from Namjoon. Hustling back to his CFO office, he logs in and clicks through the various apps until the email pops up. 

Seokjin, Thank you for keeping me up to date with the financial reports, the numbers seem to be trending back up thanks to the mitigating efforts you and your department have done. Make sure to tell your better half thank you, since I know it was really all her. Also, your signature is a little…informal for work…I would love to know who is on the receiving end of the “Your Handsome Lover, Jin-Oppa” so I can congratulate her for tying you down. I would say bring her to the party, but I know you are already planning to bring YN, and it would be rude to swap them out last minute.  Kim Namjoon, MA, BSBA CEO of JinHit Conglomerate

“Ah fuck.” Jin smacks his head, realizing his mistake. This is exactly the kind of fuck up you said couples dating at work would make, but luckily, his best friend is clueless to the fact that the same person Seokjin plans to bring to the party is the same person who will hopefully end up taking him off the market. Will this lead Seokjin to lose on Saturday? He doesn’t care about losing the bet and having to buy the shoes—he can afford to buy you the same shoes every day for the rest of your life. 

No, what Seokjin is most worried about is that if he loses on Saturday, it will be the data that you need, the proof that will make you decide that you can’t be with Seokjin after this is all said and done. And he can’t have that. 

He begins typing out a reply, mostly to say that he agrees with Namjoon, that his email was informal and he was sorry for not paying attention, oh and of course he would make sure to introduce Namjoon to the woman one day, hopefully soon, and that yes, it would be quite rude to swap out dates last minute. 

It’s an hour later after he’s finished typing out this reply that he leaves work to cross town to meet with his father. Seokjin’s feeling a little sour about the fact that he had to cancel his plans with you and meet with his dad, especially since it’s not his job to do this part of the investment process, but thanks to Do Not Disturb while driving, he misses the message his father sends. 

Jin (5:15 PM): I’m leaving work now, I should be there in time for the meeting at 6:30. 아버지 (Father) (5:45 PM): The investors can’t make it today, which is lucky since you aren’t taking rush hour traffic into account. I will let you know when it has been rescheduled, and I will make sure you will be on time.  Jin (6:28 PM): [Request Pay from Kim Namjung ₩25,000 for gas]

Reader POV

By Thursday, your ankle is finally feeling back to normal but you don’t want to push it too much, so you put on your lowest heels. You figure this would be perfect with your cinch-waisted dress, held shut by the buttons running down the middle. Despite the chill as you head downstairs to wait for Seokjin, you are glad with your choice thanks to the appreciative look Seokjin gives your figure. His right hand rests along your thigh as he drives you to work, talking about the date he’s planned for the two of you tonight.

“I know it’s a little chilly out, so I figured we could go check out Seoul Sky tonight, and then eat afterwards. What do you think?”

“Wow, how am I supposed to top that? I’ve never been to the observatory, but it sounds amazing.”

“What kind of food do you want to eat? You seem to like most foods, based on what you eat for lunch, but what’s your favorite?”

You ponder his question for a bit, eyes roving around the car as you gather your thoughts. “Mmm…I guess my favorite is home cooking. I miss my grandma’s meals the most since I’ve been here.”

“Ahhh, home cooking always hits the spot. I used to cook a lot when I was younger. My father was always busy with work and my brother and I were left alone a lot. My mom scolded us once for bothering the staff too much for specific meals, so we decided to learn from them how to make the meals we enjoyed. In college, I would cook a lot for the fraternity and it became a hobby of mine. My brother actually is the head of Food Science for JinHit. He handles the cafeteria, catering for entertainment, as well as Nutrition for the idols employed.”

“Really? I’ve met him a few times to discuss finances for catering services and resources for nutrition programs! He’s really cool.”

“Don’t tell me my girlfriend secretly loves my brother and I have to duel him to the death for you.”

You burst into laughter, giggly peals filling the car as Seokjin just glances at you then looks back at the road. “No! He’s just cool and he feeds us, which is super important.”

“Okay,” Seokjin says as he pulls into his designated CFO  parking spot, “so the way to your heart is through shoes and food, got it.”

You climb out of the car before he can come around and open the door for you. “And don’t you forget it,” you tease, walking away from him. 

Your day goes well to start, with not too many taxing assignments with the weekend fast approaching. Tomorrow is the last day at work before the office is closed for a three day weekend. Christmas falls on Monday, and despite half of the company not celebrating religiously, it is a public holiday and enjoyed as a day off by all. With the work day coming to a close, you hear when the arrival of good news enters everyone’s inbox. 

“Did you see?” Soobin sticks his head into your propped open doorway, a large smile covering his face from cheek to cheek.

“Not yet, but it sounds like it’s worth celebrating!”

“It is!” His happiness is contagious. “Our gracious CEO gave us off until the 2nd of January! Since it would be a short work week anyways, he wanted everyone to be able to enjoy the holiday with family, whether they live in Seoul or Busan.”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’m off to find Yeonjun in IT, we might catch the train home together.” Soobin ducks his fluffy head out of the entryway and disappears down the hall with a loud whoop! as others continue their cheering. You smile softly to yourself as you check the email; your last minute idea to have the office closed for the holiday would save the company more than it would lose during this time. The company would be able to save on day-to-day expenditures of running a company, work that typically does not happen because of the distraction of the holiday will continue to not be done, therefore the tradeoff between having the building open for work but no work getting done would balance out, and employee morale will be greater upon returning and resuming work in the new year.

It was an idea you had thanks to your talk with your grandma. When you pointed out that Seokjin was all play no work, and unserious, she had mentioned that you needed some of that in your life. Why wouldn’t the rest of the workers in a large conglomerate also need that? You knew you weren’t the only person with a Type A personality in this building, who worked too hard and barely rewarded themselves with a vacation or fun. So a little forced vacation will do wonders all around, without a loss in sight.

Stretching your arms above your head, you finish the last of your auditing and save your report before locking your computer. You’re excited to experience Seoul Sky tonight, and not just because it is your first time experiencing it, but because who you will be with is worth the trip to such crazy heights.         

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Seokjin’s POV

“It’s incredible!” The view you are witnessing truly is, Seokjin can’t lie. It looks as if the city goes on forever, and the fiery rays cascade along the horizon in a beautiful show of combusting fragments of stardust.

“We made it just in time, and we will get to see the night sky too before we eat,” he says. “Let’s step a little closer, you’re missing some of the view.” He ushers you to step onto the glass floor, your low heels clicking weirdly on the thick glass. 

“Oh, Seokjin, it’s exhilarating!” 

“From here, you can see JinHit, it’s right there,” Seokjin leans into you, holding you tightly as if you might fall from so high up. He aligns your body so you have a better chance of seeing what he’s pointing to. 

“I see it! I bet it’s gorgeous at night.” 

“Mmm, yes, but maybe we should shut off the power to save money...”

You laugh at his joke, and he feels his heart flutter a little. You’ve changed towards him, and the view offers more than just all of the sights of Seoul—so many opportunities lay at the tip of his finger, still pointing at JinHit—the first one being you.

“Can you imagine how the air must be from up this high?”

He can’t bear to make a negative joke about the air quality in Seoul as he sees the way your irises seemingly reflect the setting sun, a small milky way of glittering solar systems he could get lost in.

“Yes, Kicks, I think it’s rather breathtaking...like you.”

You turn away from the sunset and he sees you catch his gaze trained in your direction, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. The view of Seoul at sunset from almost 1,821 feet disappears around you. You’re the only thing he can see, and he only hopes that you feel the same, or at least you are starting to feel the same about him as he does for you. 

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“When you told me about how you can cook, I didn’t know you meant that you would be cooking for me!” Sitting at the large island in Seokjin’s lofted penthouse apartment, you watch as he moves sveltely between the sink and the island stovetop, pans heated as he adds the ingredients he chopped and minced with you. 

“Ah, well I wanted it to be a surprise.” He looks great in his slacks, button-down sleeves rolled up with an apron around his neck and waist so he doesn’t stain the baby blue fabric. It is quite the surprise, and you tell him so.

“Homemade Japchae sounds amazing right now, are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do to help?”

“No, Kicks, you already prepped the vegetables and now it’s just time for you to relax and enjoy. Look around if you want.” Seokjin sets aside the stir fried vegetables as he adds the protein option to the pan, seasoning and cooking it until browned. You decide to give yourself a small tour, not venturing too far or into any closed doors. The penthouse is modern, with a lot of black furniture, grey accent pieces, and white walls. The glass walls are two stories, spanning the height of the lofted area as well, situated above the kitchen. You take a few steps up the stairs until you can see through the clear banister into what appears to be Seokjin’s bedroom, before returning to your seat. You’re much more comfortable there than exploring dangerous areas alone.

The two of you continue to talk about your lives outside of work as he cooks; you share more about your family and where you lived before Seoul, and him about his fraternity days and hobbies. Once the glass noodles were cooked in the Japchae sauce, and the protein and vegetables re-added, you move to sit comfortably on his couch, eating as you watch a popular K Drama on his large flatscreen. 

“I really enjoyed tonight, Jin.” You can’t describe in words how you feel, you just know you haven’t felt feelings like this towards Seokjin of this caliber before. Something has changed, but you don’t know whether it’s you or Seokjin, or both. He places his plate into the sink where you stand, washing dishes, then leans against the counter to watch you. “Since you did all of the heavy lifting, I’ll clean up.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. This is still a date.”

“Yes, but even in relationships, people go on dates and I’m sure that they still take turns with household chores and stuff.”

He hums in agreement, then disappears out of the kitchen. You finish washing, lay the dishes on the rack with the pans, and then turn around to make your way back to the living room. You find Seokjin lighting the last of the candles he’s placed around the room, a tray and two flutes of champagne on the low glass table near the dark colored couch.

“What’s all this?” you ask, voice low in astonishment and something else. The room is dim, but the candles provide enough light to see and the ambiance is much more romantic than anything you’ve previously shared with Seokjin.

You watch as Seokjin’s features flit through different emotions before answering you, and before you can question him more about it. “I, well a proper date should be more than just a home-cooked meal. I also have dessert for us, and wanted to celebrate a bit, too.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes,” he pats the couch next to where he’s sat. “I saw the preliminary reports. I think we’re gonna clear it this fiscal year. All thanks to you.”

You cross the rest of the distance to sit next to him, still feeling timid in his home. You take the flute of bubbly gold with a shy smile, still not used to this treatment and praise.

“You worked hard too, Seokjin. We did it together.” Clinking your glasses together, the two of you down the Dom Perignon. As Seokjin sets down his glass, he reaches for one of the chocolate-covered strawberries set atop the tray.

“Try this, these are grown on my uncle's farm,” he shares, scooting closer to you on the couch so he can feed you the strawberry. You lean in, mouth watering at the aroma of the chocolate coating the fruit. With the first bite, an explosion of flavor erupts in your mouth, and you moan a little at how succulent it is. A trickle of the red juice rolls from the corner of your lip. Too busy savoring the flavor, Seokjin slowly swipes up your chin to gather the strawberry juice, bringing it to his lips to suck the flavor off. 

You watch as his tongue pushes through the part in his lips, the tip rolling backwards across his bottom lip as he brings his teeth to bite the plump, pink skin. The look in his eyes matches the candle flames and you’re positive yours reflect the same. Placing your hand onto his shoulder, you guide him back onto the couch so he can sit properly as you swing your leg over his thighs. Planted on his lap, it’s nothing to lean in, your mouth seeking him in a slow kiss, wet sounds filling the quiet as you press yourself into him harder, hips grinding down onto the tent pressing into your core. 

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses when your mouth moves to his neck, biting gently to avoid leaving marks in visible spots. His hands grasp your ass, pulling you into him with a rocking rhythm with more force. His lips search to bring yours back to his, hands pulling at your dress. Once his hands breach the hem, you feel the warmth of his skin on your thighs, fingertips trailing up to the waistband of your panties.

He pulls back from the kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both try and catch your breath. “Do you want this?” he asks, fingers tugging gently at the lace.

“Yes,” you breathe out, not waiting for more words as you kiss him again, raising your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your thighs. You raise each knee off the couch, helping him until your bare skin meets his slacks. His fingers dip to your center, and you’re pleased at the sound he makes when he feels just how wet you are. You stay up on your knees as he explores, the subtle teasing around your clit only heightening the feeling you crave. 

When he presses two fingers into you, you keen, face pressing into his neck as his fingers scissor and glide, thumb pressing into your clit with each plunge. You rock your hips, seeking more friction and he gives in, using his palm as he sinks deeper inside of you, allowing you to take control of your pleasure. 

“You feel so tight, but you’re so wet,” he marvels after a particularly hard shudder, and you sit back, knees weak as he pulls his fingers free.

“Want you to feel me properly,” you pout as his tongue licks up the side of his finger before he sucks them both into his mouth. You clench around nothing, the action making you want him more. You finger the buttons on your dress, popping each open in secession. It’s your turn to reach for the waistband of his pants, eyes on his as you seek his consent. “Do you want this?”

“More than you know, baby.” You smile to yourself as you focus on the button and zipper on his slacks until his hands join yours to grip the edge of both his briefs and pants until he has them past his knees, hardened cock bouncy as it awaits you to take your rightful seat upon it. You gasp as your eyes take in the size of it being bigger than you expected; it explains the cockiness he exhibits in his day to day.

Spitting into your hand, you grip his member, thumb trailing down the pearlescent stickiness from the head. He breathes out a huff, the steely silk growing more solid with each stroke. 

“Don’t tease me, Kicks, I’ve waited a long time for this.”

Once again you rise onto your knees, inching closer to him with hands on his broad shoulders for balance. You can feel Seokjin lining up the head to your core, running it across your pussy several times to coat it with your essence. Dropping onto his thick length, he fills you to the point of stretching you out, toes curling from the press into your most sensitive parts. You don’t wait, enjoying the way that the stretch burns as it turns to pleasure, and you let loose in a way you haven’t before. 

It’s frenetic, the way each of your hands travel along each other's bodies, lips seeking and sucking into each other's skin, opening clothing for more points of contact, to bring you closer to each other than you’ve ever been. It doesn’t take long, riding him as you are, for the coil to build and snap inside you, crying out as you throw your head back. 

“That’s it, baby, let me feel you,” Seokjin coaches you through your climax, holding you as you shake in his arms. You mewl as he shifts, thighs lifting you both as he stands, cock still sheathed inside of you. He steps out of his discarded clothing and walks you to the stairs that lead to his loft. He’s impatient, pausing every few steps to press you into the wall and fuck himself up into you until he makes it to the landing of his bedroom. 

Getting you to the bed, he places you on your back at the edge, hands trailing up along your legs until he grips your ankles. Bringing them together in front of him, he rests your calves onto his shoulder before slow-grinding himself into you, your swollen lips suctioning him deeper as they mold to fit around him.

“Jin, fuck, you feel so good,” your voice a high pitch as you squirm. 

“Yeah, baby?” He’s breathless, hips picking up speed as you clench around him, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching show just how good he feels. He spreads your legs then, picking you up and placing you farther on the bed so he can join you, this time sans shirts. 

With a grunt, he pushes deep as his hands reach around and skillfully unhooks your bra. He slows his hip rolls as his lips toy with a freed nipple, tongue laving until it’s pert and he moves to the other to give the same treatment. He takes a hand, trailing it down the center of your body. His thumb presses into your clit, and he speeds up, pleading, “Cum with me, you can give me another one.”

You give him what he wants, his voice raspy with restraint is the thing that topples you over the edge, and his restraint is let go moments later when you squeeze him impossibly tight. The deep sounds that he lets out are loud, curses mingled with your name, not your nickname, but your real name, tumble from his lips as he releases into you, short pumps of his cock until he’s empty. He collapses his weight onto you, but it’s comforting, not crushing. You feel his arms wrap around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to cuddle your body into his chest. 

“I’ll clean us up in a minute, wanna enjoy this feeling.”

Seokjin closes his eyes, but you agree with him, you don’t want to move just yet, because the pleasure coursing through your veins feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and not just because of the sex—you’ve done that a few times. It’s because of the man whose arms you're in, but his light snores let you know it's too late in the night to tell him.

You wake long before your alarm, but less sticky than when you fell asleep, Seokjin keeping to his word. You feel his arm strewn over your middle, so you turn and take in his slumber-filled face. His hair flops onto the pillow, lips puckered slightly as quiet breaths escape him. Smiling at how peaceful he looks, you don’t want to leave just yet, not when the bed is so warm, and even in his sleep he wants to keep you close, but you have no clothes for work. You silently climb out of his bed, going to the bathroom to freshen up before getting dressed. You call for a KakaoTaxi, and once it arrives, you kiss Seokjin on the forehead before leaving. 

Once at home, you take the time to shower and get dressed for work, thinking about what you can do for the last date tonight. You know you want it to be special, because after the amazing night spent in Seokjin’s arms, him between your legs and splitting your walls…you’ve come to realize something significant. You like him. You like Kim Seokjin and you don’t want to stop being with him once tomorrow comes. 

Deciding to take a leap of faith, you channel your grandma’s advice and decide that tonight at dinner, you will confess your feelings to him. You’re pretty sure that he feels the same way, based on his words and actions last night when you both showed each other a whole new side. You send a text to Seokjin saying he doesn’t need to pick you up, that you’re heading to work early and you’ll see him later. 

He sends a quick reply of Be safe, beautiful. Can’t wait. Which is more than you expected from him so early in the morning but makes you feel giddy, solidifying your assumption of how he feels about you.

Once in your office, you utilize the extra time to search for a place to take Seokjin that’s worthy of hopefully becoming the place where you and he can become a ‘we’, but out of the limited places you contact, there’s no reservations available. You don’t have the sway to pull strings the way Seokjin could, but asking him or your coworkers for help would break one of the rules of your agreement. 

The sun shifts across your office, giving way to midday as you work with good old-fashioned paper, pen, and highlighters, but you haven’t seen him or his broad shoulders that you’re sure you left some marks on last night. Rolling your computer chair back from the desk, you lean back precariously as you take a much-needed deep stretch and vacate your seat. It’s a quick trip from the 48th to the 50th floor; you figure if Seokjin isn’t in his office near yours, he must be working in his C-Suite office upstairs. Unfortunately, when you peek your head into the room, the vast dark-oak desk is empty, his large Samsung monitor turned off when you venture farther in. 

With a sigh, you leave the office, nearly walking headfirst into Kim Namjoon. 

“Looking for Jin-hyung?” his low baritone questions. “He's at a meeting with his dad to discuss some financial stuff, he’s been emailing me all day asking to be rescued.”

“Oh, I wonder if he emailed me too. I’ve been reviewing printed reports all morning.”

“I made the mistake of answering him thinking he needed work-related info—nope! He just wanted to tell me about how he’s been craving the truffle pasta at Flavors.”

You laugh at this, unable to hold back the smile as you imagine how bored Seokjin must be to be emailing about food. You thank Namjoon and head back to your office, an idea of where to go now planted in your mind.

Everything is falling into place for tonight, and you send Seokjin an email before you leave at 5 PM, detailing the plan for your reservation at Flavors tonight at 7 PM. His response is full of excitement, shocked that you read his mind about his craving (thank you, Namjoon!), and that he’ll meet you there and you better not be late. 

Closing down your computer for the long holiday weekend per IT’s email, you gather your belongings and head home to get ready.

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Seokjin’s POV

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Seokjin tries to hide his grin from his father. 

“What are you smiling about?”

Seokjin takes a breath to keep from rolling his eyes and relaxes his face into a look of innocence. “Nothing,” he shrugs, mentally doing the math as he clambers into the car his father has chauffeuring them around. “Are we headed back to the office now? I have a few things I need to do tonight for Namjoon’s party tomorrow.” And a hot date waiting for me, he thinks.

“Not just yet, actually. I have one last meeting for us at Paradise City.”

Seokjin groans. “Father, it’s a holiday weekend, there’s nothing more we need to do today that we can’t do after Christmas weekend.”

“It won’t be long, Seokjin, we’re around the corner already. I swear your work ethic is piss-poor, sometimes I regret naming you my successor.”

It might not be a long trip from the hotel they just finished meeting at to Paradise City, but they were already over an hour away from where he should be meeting you in less than two. Irritated, Seokjin quietly tries to do the math for how long this meeting can be before he has to be on his way to you, but knowing his father, he worries about making it to you on time. 

As the car pulls to the front of the main entrance, Seokjin decides to message you, just a warning that he will be late due to his father’s overbearing and controlling tendencies. He exits the car first, standing to the side to type a quick message as his father follows him onto the pavement. 

“Put your phone away.”

When Seokjin ignores his demand, his father snatches his phone from his hands, pocketing the small device.

“Really, Father, you are being insufferable right now.” 

“And you, son, are being rude.” Seokjin’s dad leaves him to head into the bustling hotel and casino, and with his phone held hostage, he has no choice but to follow him inside. 

Once seated next to the thief at a four-top, Seokjin begs for his phone, but his father ignores him as he smiles at someone behind Seokjin’s head. 

“Lee Jaeyong-ssi!”

“Kim Namjung-ssi!” The man bows to the elder Kim before sitting in the seat next to Seokjin. Seokjin gapes in horror at his dad as he realizes what his father has roped him into when the 19-year-old daughter of the country’s largest GDP contributor walks around the table to sit across from Seokjin.

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Reader POV

You’re prompt, body electrified as you give your name for the reservation and are led to a quaint, black-marbled table. The only downfall to the seating arrangement of the restaurant is that larger group tables line the walls with comfortable grey booth seating, while the tables for couples fill the middle walkway. Smoothing the little black dress with baby doll straps, you sit in the chair pulled out for you.

You take in the romantically lit room as the Maître d' pours you a glass of red wine, leaving the expensive bottle in a wine chiller on a small stand next to the table. Checking your phone, there’s no reply message from Seokjin of his estimated arrival time, but you don’t worry too much, thinking he’s probably parking his car or nearby enough. It’s only minutes past the hour, so you shirk off the cropped, fur-lined jacket from your shoulders and drape it over the back of your chair. 

It’s fitting that the table is in the middle of the room, out in the open as if a reflection of where you want to take this relationship with Seokjin. You think you’re finally ready to admit to him what you realized last night and this morning.

7:17 PM. The Maître d' returns to ask if you would like to order. You tell him that you are still waiting for the other person to arrive, and give a little white lie that he’s just running late.

“What is the name of the other half of your party? I will make sure to bring him promptly when he arrives.” 

“Oh, it’s Kim Seokjin,” you reply shyly. His eyes widen minutely at your unintentional name drop, and that coupled with murmurs from the guests seated nearby, leaves you feeling a heat rising up your neck. He excuses himself, saying he will be back to check on you once your date arrives. 

7:47 PM. The looks of pity start to trickle into your view as you turn your head to look towards the door for the millionth time. The Maître d' has walked past to escort other patrons to tables, but he avoids coming over to you—you guess it’s because he doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that you’re still alone, and he said he would be back only once Seokjin arrived. You appreciate his tactfulness, but you worry as you check your phone again for a message. 

8:17 PM. Your phone is held to your face, dial tone ringing in your ear but you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve called him. All of your text messages have gone unread, and inside you simmer with feelings of shame and embarrassment. Your phone (along with others in the vicinity) chimed with a notification from the WeVerse App, reporting a major headline. 

JinHit CFO Kim Seokjin Spotted with 19-year-old Samsung Heiress—And Their Fathers!

And in smaller font underneath: Marriage meeting? Should we expect wedding bells and a massive business union? The read more teases photos catching the quartet out at Paradise City.

A fool, you think, realizing Seokjin must’ve never planned to come. Paradise City is almost an hour and half by car at this time of night. I am a fool for even entertaining the thought of giving my heart to this man!  

Standing from the chair, you don’t bother hiding your emotions on your face as you grab your jacket and toss the cloth napkin onto the table before fleeing to the front to hail a taxi, waiting in the cold as unique snowflakes begin to fall from the sky with fluttery movements, before melting away a few moments after making contact with earthly items.  

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At home, you sit on the edge of your couch unclasping the delicate buckle on your Manolo Blahniks. Tonight’s fucked with your mind more than Seokjin has the entire time this deal was in place. What started as a way to win—a way to prove you were smarter than Seokjin, better at mitigating for the company, gain a pair of expensive shoes—is turning into a stock market crash of the worst proportions. 

Your grandma’s words float through your head and in this moment, you’re hit with a sudden clarity that this was never about a pair of expensive shoes. It was about letting yourself take a chance to live a little and be happy for once—hopeful that happiness with another person was within your reach—the heel you clutch in your hand, having slipped it off of your foot, sails through the air, hitting the off-white wall of your apartment. 

You wake, puffy-eyed and unexcited, thinking about how things will be weird tonight for the party at Namjoon’s place, because not only have you slept with Jin, he’s also shattered your heart into a million pieces. It’s not the first time the thought crosses your mind that he might have known he was going to be set up with a child (no offense to 19-year-olds, the age gap is ridiculous no matter how rich your daddy is) and chose to spend his last weeks of freedom stringing you along, choosing to finally sleep with you right before he was off the market.

You fell asleep easily, but your phone ringing repeatedly woke you up close to midnight. The screen was blinding, but you could see who was calling you and you decidedly ignored the call, silencing your phone. You were then unable to return to sleep until hints of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and the consequences of that are now reflecting in your mirror. 

This is just Jin being Jin, your mind says, when has he ever been serious about anything? He’s just flirty, and wanted to get his rocks off before robbing the cradle in sickness or in health. This is nothing new and he was just having fun with you. Going through the motions of your skincare routine, the feelings of disappointment and hurt are there, lingering in your chest with each breath, but you’ve decided to be tough. Your brain doing what it does best, trying to rationalize everything that isn’t a fact, blaming the way your emotions temporarily made you dumb. 

‘I should’ve known’ repeats like a mantra in your head no matter how you try to drown it out with music from your phone. You’ve always had an uncanny ability to be hopeful when you know you shouldn’t, because good things like this never work out. You just forgot that little fact, but last night is the perfect reminder. 

The thoughts settling in help as you go through the motions: toner onto a cotton pad wiped along your face, moisturizer gently massaged into your skin. Once you’ve finished with your makeup, it’s as if you move on autopilot, your fingers deft as they put the final touches wrapping the gift for Seokjin you finalized after work yesterday. Your logical brain reminds you that this party is nothing more than coworkers hanging out, a chance to put the bet—and your fake relationship—to rest, and making sure to bring a gift like the invite said is your way to show Seokjin that he didn’t get to you. He might win the bet, he might’ve had you wallowing last night, but he won’t continue to win power over your emotions. 

You reread the last message he sent before sending him a text as you slip into the persona needed to survive tonight.

Jin (2:04 AM) - Please, baby, just…let me know you’re okay. I can explain everything. You (1:14 PM) - I’m getting ready to go to the party, what time will you be here?

Your phone lights up as an incoming call flashes across your screen, but you ignore it, letting your ringtone play until he hangs up. 

Jin (1:15 PM) - Can I come now? You (1:20 PM) - I’m not ready yet and have some things to do beforehand, so if you can just let me know what time to expect you, I can make sure I’m ready when you get here.

You set your phone down, watching the bubbles pop up and disappear, indicating that he’s typing, but it still takes him ten minutes to send five words.

Jin (1:30 PM) - I’ll be there at 7:30.

📈📈📈📈📈

The drive to Namjoon’s party goes well for you, if you say so yourself. Not ready to deal with being alone with Seokjin, you make sure to call one of your friends from back home, spending the entire trip with your phone glued to your ear, rudely ignoring Seokjin’s attempts to talk to you until he gives up.

Walking into Namjoon’s place, the distinct smell of a fresh Christmas Tree wafts into your senses as his fiance greets you at the door. She’s all cute and small with a pretty smile as she bounces through the home to lead you and Seokjin to the living room. You greet the others who have already arrived, Yoongi and his girlfriend Leah, and Hoseok and his fiance, YuRim. A table near the Christmas Tree holds the gifts, so you walk over to deposit your gift bag, Seokjin following with a bag of his own to set down. 

The layout of the room is an open concept, and Namjoon stands in the kitchen with oven mitts on. It’s a little strange to see your boss in such a state, matching fleece Christmas onesies with Khaity, oven mitts covering his hands, and a stressed look on his face as he stares at the small timer on the counter.

“Oh, honey, let me take the cookies out, okay? Come sit down with our guests.” Khaity rises onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she slips the mitts off his hands before gently nudging him towards the sitting area.

Another knock rings out, and soon Namjoon leads Jungkook in with NaBi. You aren’t sure whether she came with Jungkook or arrived at the same time and was invited by Namjoon, seeing as she is his secretary, but the way they smile at each other softens the wall that you built up against love. Even if you and Seokjin were a failed attempt, you hope that those two blind co-workers might figure it out. 

The macadamia nut cookies are first out of the oven, Khaity plating and placing them on the table between the couches where everyone is gathered. The last to arrive, Taehyung with Hana and Jimin, trickle in a few minutes later complaining that the cookies were all gone. 

“We have chocolate chip ones coming out next, you can have first dibs, okay?” Namjoon appeases before his face turns into confusion. “Wait, where’s your plus one?” 

“I ended things with Ji-Soo.”

Everyone shows various levels of shock, and despite avoiding him since arriving, you can’t help but to meet Seokjin’s eye with a raised brow. 

“Really? Why?” NaBi asks, truly invested in their drama.

“She’s just…a little brainless. Nice tits, but let’s be honest, we live in the plastic surgery capital of the world.”

“Well, I guess we know who gets to wear the ‘Ho, Ho, Ho’ santa hat tonight,” Leah jokes, tossing the furry red cap to Jimin.

“Gladly! But I had to block her number, she’s been blowing up my phone the past few days, and it’s gotten to be too much.”

“Probably for the best, right? You start your last semester next month,” Taehyung reminds his best friend. 

“We’ll see, I might need to find a hot tutor in the class, maybe I can convince her to do my homework.”

“Do your homework, or do you?” Jungkook asks deadpan, and everyone laughs, the room full of mirth and holiday cheer.

“Why not both?” you second, sending the room into another round of giggles, and despite the awkwardness with Seokjin, you feel yourself relax into the persona you’ve adjusted into place to get through the night. You can do this, you remind yourself.

And you do a great job meshing with the group, hanging out with your coworkers and helping Khaity in the kitchen with some finger foods and more cookies to avoid Seokjin until the inevitable moment arrives. Gift exchange.

“All right, I’m going to get more wine in the kitchen,” Jimin stands, stretching his arms high as he steps over the others to escape the lovey dovey atmosphere as the couples exchange gifts. 

Seokjin calls to him to wait, and everyone watches as he grabs the gift bag off of the table. Holding one of the dainty handles, his free hand reaches in and reveals a decent sized wine bottle in his grasp. “Can you take this with you? I got it as a contribution to the party.” 

Jimin busies himself across the room with an open bottle of wine and his glass and you wish you could join him instead of engaging in the most awkward event since everything imploded last night. You pass the gift over to Seokjin who takes it with a little bit of shock, as if he’s just realized what type of party he came to and what he was supposed to do—and how he just fucked up.

Leah opens her gift first, a lavender velvet box containing a necklace. A small slip of paper flutters out, and she reads it before sharing the information. “A 100% pure sterling silver necklace with amethyst stones spelling a morse code message.”

“What’s the message?” Hana asks, leaning to look at the glittering stones.

“Badass Bitch.”

Taehyung laughs the loudest, almost choking on the chocolate chip cookie he was chewing.

“So, Seokjin, wanna tell us about the latest WeVerse gossip?” NaBi teases from the floor where she sits cross legged, cheeky grin as she rocks side to side next to Jungkook. Her hands fidget with the small charm on the bracelet Jungkook gifted her that you’re too far away to see clearly.

“Oh fuck, what a nightmare. My father basically kidnapped me. Took my phone and everything so I couldn’t contact anyone and let them know I was effectively unable to leave or even signal for help.”

“You wanted to be rescued? I thought dudes liked young, hot, rich heiresses. Your own Paris Hilton,” YuMi asks, and you can see her question holds a little…bite to it. You instantly like her.

“Hell yeah, I did not want to be there. I actually had plans that I was really excited for, but my father…he kind of ruined my night.”

“But the hot chick made it better, right? You’re gonna marry into the richest company, right?” Jimin shouts from the kitchen, cheeks ruddy from the wine. You, on the other hand, are over the topic of conversation. Moving towards the kitchen, you decide to follow Jimin’s lead and drown your sorrows.

“No way, she’s like eleven years younger than me. She’s barely old enough to drink, just finished Secondary, and we have nothing in common. Besides, I’m not attracted to her.” You can feel Seokjin’s eyes piercing into your skull, but you refuse to give him what he wants. 

Namjoon’s gift from Khaity interrupts Seokjin’s next words, as he drops the small box holding an egg vibrator and turns red as everyone begins to laugh at his reaction. Except for you. Your eyes finally look at Seokjin, challenging him to finish his thoughts from earlier as the group settles back into silence as the last few finish opening their gifts. Yoongi finally frees his gift from the box Leah wrapped it in; he holds up a black leather Valentino backpack to show everyone.

“I…actually—I’m dating someone else.”

The group instantly grows loud again, voices trying to speak over one another as various tones of disbelief, shock, and animosity filter through their accusations. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because, I wanted to make sure it didn’t interfere with work first, I didn’t need HR getting involved with my love life.”

“Oh?” Namjoon focuses on this tidbit of information, ears perked for more. “Do I need to worry? It’s not Ji-Soo, right?”

You sputter into your wine, but luckily the males in the living room are cackling at the accusation. 

“NO! I draw the line at sloppy thirds, thank you very much.” You try to slink away, the balcony looking like a great hiding spot when Seokjin says your name and everyone turns to you. “I brought my girlfriend and wanted to tell you all tonight.”

The group goes crazy once again at this turn of events, with Leah being the voice of reason once everyone settles. “Seokjin, I promise you, we never would have guessed…you didn’t even trade gifts with her, so color me a little shocked!”

You know Leah means to call Seokjin out and make him feel shitty, but the reminder also makes you feel a little despondent. Even if Seokjin had no intentions of marrying that girl, his current actions speak volumes. He couldn’t even be bothered to get you a gift; Kim Seokjin was not actually interested in you. 

As the group continues to pester Seokjin about how everything played out last night since he’s dating you, you take advantage of their deviated attention and head for the balcony to escape for some fresh air. You don’t really pay attention to the group behind you, but you can see shadowy movements as people get up and begin to filter out for the evening, a few of the girls coming to the balcony door to wish you a happy holiday break, their muffled voices saying jolly goodbyes.

You struggle to return their holiday spirit, and how can you, when you think about how while you’ve lost the real bet, you won the experience of having Seokjin as your boyfriend. This time with him has been…better than you ever expected. Living life with a little more color, risk, and fun, but now that the bet is over, you not only lost the shoes, but you’ve lost the taste of a different life, a fun life, with Seokjin by your side. Especially if his father demands that he marry that…child.

The sound of the glass door sliding open is quiet, but you hear it despite not turning to look. You can tell from the spicy scent of bourbon & vanilla that it’s Seokjin.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks by way of greeting, and from the corner of your eye you see him fidgeting with a wrapped box.

“I’m used to it.”

He hums, and you sense he wants to say more. A few moments later you are proved right.

“Thank you, for the gift. It, uh…means a lot, coming from you.”

“No problem.”

He huffs, and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed at your responses or if he’s annoyed at himself.

“Look. I’m sorry.” Seokjin’s voice is sincere, and you cave for a moment, meeting his toffee eyes. “I know that I royally fucked up last night, but I meant what I said earlier. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with you. I tried to text you, but my father—he’s a dick, you know?” His following laugh is empty of humor. “I hope that you’ll forgive me, Kicks. Holiday spirit and all, if you feel the same way that I feel…fuck—I don’t even know what to say.”

Seokjin hands the box he’s holding to you, stepping closer. “I know according to our friends, I won, but last night…it definitely violated the rules. So while I most likely would’ve won…I know in my heart I didn’t…but I think you had fun with me these two weeks, right? It…doesn’t have to end here, you know? I think the one thing I really want to win…is you.”

His gaze is too intense, too scary and full of the hope you stuffed way down, so you focus on the gift in your hands. Pulling at the open edge of the wrapping paper, you unravel the gift wrap to reveal a marbled cream box with gold letters across the top. Your breath grows shaky as cynicism sneaks into your chest, only to be replaced with astonishment. The Saeda 100 Unicorn Printed Satin Pumps with Crystal Embellishment lay in the box, sparkling in the light filtering through the balcony windows.

“Jin,” you try to speak, but all you can say is his name.

“You deserve these, and not just because I lost on a technicality. You deserve these because you are just as magical as these fucking shoes are. You challenge me, push me to be better, and help me along the way. You believe in me more than my own father. You just,” he sighs your name softly, taking the shoes from your grasp and setting them on the outdoor table so he can hold your hands, “you see me. All of me. And if I remember correctly, you weren’t opposed to what you saw, might have even liked it.”

His light teasing, alluding to that night, has your body warming despite the December chill.

“Do you mean it?” You hate that you have to ask, but you need to know it’s real. Not just you reading into something because of false hope clouding your judgment.

“God, you are so brilliant and yet, so dense.”

Seokjin closes the remaining space between your mouths, plush lips firm as they show you how much he meant every word.

“I want to be with you. No bets, no rules, no strings. Just you.”

📈📈📈📈📈

Seokjin’s POV

The drive back to Seokjin’s place is fast; neither of you can keep your hands off of each other and he refuses to slow at yellow lights in fear that he’ll combust if he doesn’t get you naked…

The moment he has you standing in his lofted bedroom, he pauses just to take you in. Seokjin swears he never thought he could get so lucky—he always thought his fate would be similar to Hoseok’s arranged marriage, though that turned out well in the end. But someone like you? He never saw it coming.

Shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders, he lets it fall quietly to the floor, stepping closer to you. His hands feel way too hot when he places them to your cheeks, but if he’s supposed to die from a burning desire, well fuck, he guesses there isn’t a better way to go. He’s falling hard for you, and as he ducks his head to meet your lips, he lets his hands move to undress you. 

Seokjin doesn’t understand how you can be so soft, so warm, so inviting; everything about you envelops him until he’s consumed by you. Leaving you only in your underwear, he uses his hands to cup behind your thighs and lift you, carrying you to the bed.

“You look like an angel.”

Seokjin’s sheets are black, and with your white matching bra and panty set stark against the sheets, he’s in awe of you. He wants to savor you. He wants to defile you. Slowly, so slowly that you whine at him, he trails his lips along your clavicle, fingers lightly brushing your exposed sides. He pauses every so often to lave at your skin, supple beneath his tongue, before his dexterous fingers slide the straps to your bra down each arm. A quick tug frees your breasts, and his kisses continue to taunt and tease, circling but never reaching the pebbled nipple despite the arch to your back.

“Please Jin,” you beg, fingers fisting into his hair. He just chuckles at your neediness, your pleading words only adding to the pressure tenting in his pants. Trailing kisses lower down your stomach, his tongue traces the edge of your panties until he bites at the edge, making you squirm from his teeth. 

He loves that he gets to have you like this; wants you like this always, pliant and happy beneath him. Settling himself lower, his chest between your thighs, Seokjin begins to mouth at your covered core, tongue searching for the slit between your lips where your clit waits, probably throbbing for him. 

The sounds you make are pornographic, egging him on more. Wrapping his arms under your thighs, he curls his bicep so that his fingers can reach the edge of your panties. Pulling them aside, he pours his energy into leaving the sloppiest kisses around your clit and lips, strong arms not allowing you any room to pull away from the pleasure he’s delivering. Not that you’re trying to; your hands have a tight grip on his hair so you can roll your hips for maximum pleasure. 

Tonguing at your leaking core, he flicks along your opening, reaching inside you before alternating to flick your clit. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, the pressure building as you cry out for more. Like a siren's call, he can’t deny you, so he surrenders two fingers to your pulsing walls, plunging them inside rapidly as you pant, moans slipping from your lips until you cry out his name. 

He laps at you lazily as you ride your high, and when you pull back from over-stimulation, he pulls himself up along your body, flopping down to lay next to you where he can gaze upon you. You, his beautiful…girlfriend? Did you establish that? He ponders it for a minute until you call his attention. 

“Fuck, Jin…You’re a demon.”

“I’m your demon,” he responds, looking for an opening to broach the thoughts on his mind.

“Only mine, right?” 

He can hear the way your voice trembles as you ask, and he wants to kiss away any lingering doubts in your mind.

“Only yours. You’re my girlfriend, exclusively. If I’m honest, you have been since you agreed to my bet. It was only ever you.”  

“Good,” you say, and he jumps when your hand rests atop his aching cock only two layers between your skin and his.

You eye his zipper before looking back at him, eyes low and simmering with heated desire. “Can I?”

Seokjin moves quickly to shed his remaining clothing, eager to have you in a way he’s only dreamt about. You laugh at his silliness, and while he was exaggerating a little to make you laugh, part of him really feels this way. Heart-racing and giddy, because of you. 

You kneel onto the carpeted ground between his legs, waiting for him to lower himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He leaves his feet planted on the floor as he strokes himself, weeping with pre-cum that aids him in sliding his palm across his silky skin.

You trade out his hand for your own, delicate touches to show how much you cherish him before you take him fully into your mouth. He can’t look away, leaning back on one hand while the other strokes your head lightly, eyes on your face as your lips work up and down his shaft, tongue tickling his frenulum. Seokjin shivers with each pass. Your mouth is so warm, wet and dripping each time you choke a little on his cock, and your eyes look so pretty lined with unshed tears. 

Fuck, Seokjin thinks he could fall in love with you fast, if you continue to look at him like that, with eyes wide as you deep throat his cock until your nose is tickled by the hair of his happy trail. Moaning as your throat convulses around his throbbing tip, light swallows squeezing the head. He almost says it when you pull off of him with a pop, just to take him deep again and add your hand to cup his balls as your dripping spit coats them to make for an easy slide through your fingers as you roll them in your palm. 

Seokjin knows his own sounds are not very manly but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know how good you make him feel, and his breathy groans are a little higher than his normal talking voice but if anything when he lets out a sound it seems to invigorate you more and—shit—“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby—” spills from his mouth and instead of popping off him and letting him cover your beautiful tits, you hold yourself closer to him until Seokjin’s sighing out your name as he falls back onto the bed, his eyes screwed shut as fireworks shoot through his veins. 

📈📈📈📈📈

Reader POV

Returning to work after a week off is always tough; having to adjust your alarms to wake up on time, no more lazing away in bed watching Netflix or reading a new Best Seller you were gifted. No breakfast in bed after being Seokjin’s breakfast in bed—no time when you’ve overslept your alarm after a late night on Facetime with your boyfriend.

Seokjin’s out at his family’s vacation home, has been just for the weekend, where he told his parents about you and successfully avoided the marriage plans his dad attempted to trap him in. Once he gets back, there’s plans to have dinner with them—apparently his mom is excited to meet you. 

Seokjin’s entrusted his car to you while he’s been gone, saying it’s because the oil and gas shouldn’t sit and build gunk in the engine, but you have a feeling it’s because he thinks it’s sexy when you drive. And you love how the car smells like him, like bergamot and spicy vanilla—a warm hug until he returns to you.

Parking in his designated spot, you enjoy the perks of dating the CFO as you ride the elevator straight from the parking garage to your floor. It’s easy to settle back into your work routine, checking emails and reviewing reports until NaBi pops in on her way to grab food, reminding you of the time. 

“Overworking already? I thought dating the CFO meant you could relax a little.”

You laugh at NaBi’s teasing, shoulder bumping her lightly. She presses the call button for the elevator to go down to the cafe. “I can relax a little. I just miss him, so it’s easier to focus on work until he gets—Ahhhhh!” You’re happily surprised when you see a slightly tanned Seokjin appear when the elevator doors open. The other workers hanging around the Property Acquisition cubicles startle and look over, but you don’t care. 

You greet him excitedly, kissing him right there for everyone to see. Openly showing him affection, where before you would have shied away, you can feel Seokjin is receptive to this as he pulls you in closer. 

“I got us lunch,” he says between quick pecks before releasing you, and you realize he’s holding a tied plastic bag with styrofoam food trays.

“Sorry, NaBi!” 

She eyes you as if to say, ‘bitch, you lying’, but her smile shows she’s not mad at you. You have a feeling this is the perfect excuse for her to have lunch with a certain IT coworker…

Following Seokjin to his office, you hold his free hand with both of yours. “I missed you,” you muse, and he chuckles at the sappy look you give him. 

“I was only gone for the weekend,” he says with a wink as he leads you to his massive desk, “but I missed you too, so I thought I would surprise you with lunch. I’m glad I did, I get to see this version of you that I’ve always known was there.” 

His words have you furrowing your brow, tilting your head in question. 

“You know, my girlfriend, who I’m able to be goofy with, but who still maintains the same work ethic and drive that I love, just with heart eyes only for me.”

“Ew, why are you being so cheesy?” His words make your heart flutter, so of course you have to wrinkle your nose at how soft he’s making you feel. 

“Because, you know, I kind of like you. A lot.”

Seokjin gestures to the corner of his desk, and you notice that the photo frame you purchased him for Christmas sits there, ‘World’s Best Boss’ engraved in gold with a purple frame surrounding a picture of the two of you taken on the candlelit dinner cruise. The card, where you poured out some of your most heartfelt thoughts about Seokjin and how much you believe in him, lay open under the clear, protective placemat on his desk along with the photos of his fraternity days, his mom, and other notes from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi.

You feel an overwhelming emotion fill your chest, so you lean in and kiss him, unable to contain it.

“I like you a lot too, but honestly, you’re lucky to have me. Your lover, your friend, your partner in crime…in sexy ass heels.”

Seokjin laughs with his whole chest as he sees you’ve got on the shoes he gifted you, and you thank your lucky stars for whatever brought the man in front of you into your life to help you avoid the red.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2019-2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[just-your-average-tangerine]

This is reviews and ratings for the narrative/ fiction podcasts I have/ am listening to. This is mostly for me but if you want to use this as a recommendation go for it but be warned I'm not talking about plot or giving a description, there's no mentions of potentially triggering material so do your own research first if that's something your concerned about.

Welcome to Night Vale

-Night Vale owns my entire ass, no one does it better. I've been listening since the beginning and while I do think the quality has dipped a bit in the last few years its still really good. 9/10

The Magnus Archives

-Nearly perfect. Holds up and even improves with subsequent listens. The final season drags a bit imo but worth it in the end. 9/10

Old Gods of Appalachia

-really good story, gives you a lot to keep track of character wise but is written well enough that its not too hard and you can still follow the story if you forget some. 8/10

Moonbase Theta Out

-I can't wait for this to be over. Unfortunately, the storyline has a chokehold on me, and i need to know how it ends. Otherwise, i wouldn't be listening anymore. While there are several pretty good voice actors, there's enough bad ones that it's hard to listen to. Took the idea that characters should be flawed a little too far and made nearly every character completely insufferable. Nearly everytime a character is being given critical and emotional information it cuts away, in what I assume is an attempt to save the audience from listening to the same information over and over again, but instead it deprives the audience that look at how the character reacts to the information, which could go a long way in making them seem more fleshed out, instead you only see them emote in angry outbursts or melodramatic soliloquies (which is not helped by the subpar acting). 2/10

Death By Dying

-pretty funny but I don't think there's been enough episodes to make a educated review or rating

Hello from the Hallowoods

- very good overall. Good story, heartfelt and well written. Percy's story hits close to home for me, which sometimes makes me mad because he comes across as very weak and insecure and it gets on my nerves. But honestly that's less of a problem with the Percy or the writing and more of a problem of him being one of the very very few trans masc characters in existence so its extra disappointing when i find him irritating. Polly owns my ass, I would die for him. 8/10

Where the Stars Fell

-I binge listened up to the current season which I feel wasn't the way to go but it's still pretty enjoyable. 6/10

Midnight Burger

-Very funny. I love the characters and their dynamic and just the idea of a time a space traveling diner, it's beautiful. The beginning of this new arc confused me a bit but it's starting to come together. 7/10

We Fix Space Junk

- Very funny but with the underlying terror of what's going on with automnicon. Looking forward to new episodes. 6/10

The Sheridan Tapes

-started really strong but has been spending too much time on the characters agnst and not enough time actually progressing the story. At this point I'm just looking forward to a conclusion. 4/10

Camp Here and There

- it was pretty good, nothing exceptional but not bad but then I took a single glance at what was going on in the fandom and it was so obnoxious that it immediately ruined it for me. I feel bad lowering the rating due to the fandom but like, yikes. 2/10

SCP Readings

-very entertaining, easy to follow even if you don't have any prior knowledge about scp, which I do not. 7/10

The Amelia Project

-I think I'm to early in this one to make a solid judgement but I enjoy it so far. Venerio haunts me.

[flameohotwife]

2022 Writing Year in Review

Yeah, I know it's 2023 already. I'm just now finding a smidge of time to get to the asks/ask games/etc. that I've gotten bc the holidays have been so busy. Thank you @benwvatt and @chocomd for the tag!

1. Number of stories posted to Ao3: 13! one of those was started in 2021 though with the last chapter of it posted in 2022, so 12 fics (+ one chapter) written entirely in 2022

2. Word count this year: 105,816 according to ao3

3. Fandoms I wrote for: Avatar: The Last Airbender/Avatar: Legend of Korra (which I tag most of my adult kataang stories as, especially if they include cloud-babies or spice, to be safe, even though I know it is between the two series. But tagging adult kataang as only AtLA seems to invite the pedo-accusations, despite the fact that we KNOW Aang and Katara grew up and had babies together which means they did the deed at least a few times, but ya know... that's a rant for another day.)

4. Pairings: Aang/Katara

5. Stories with the most:

Kudos: Unspoken, Undeniable (rated T)

Bookmarks: Growing Pains (rated E)

Comment threads: UU and then GP, because they are both multi-chap stories. After that, though, it was Free as the Wind (rated T) which is still *technically* 2 chapters although I only decided to split it in two at the last minute since it was so long for ease of reading. It is more of a one-shot in my head still.

Word count: UU, definitely, at 44,409 (51,354 if you include the epilogue)

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): Probably UU, because it was the first ever intentional multi-chap that I planned out, wrote out, and finished, all in the span of this year!

7.   Work I’m least proud of (and why): Probably Silence and Sparrowkeets (rated T). I wrote it for kataang week theme quiet moments/healing, and while I still do like a lot of elements of the story that I incorporated, it just falls a little flat for me for some reason.

8.   Share or describe a favorite review you received: Some of my favorite reviews this year have been from @kataangisforlovers and @chocomd, because they always manage to see the underlying themes I'm pulling in or the things about the AtLA world that I'm trying to expose (often having to do with canon racism). I cannot express how much I have valued their input, both on ao3 comments and behind the scenes.

9.   A time when writing was really, really hard: omg, so many times. I have had a harder time separating from my daily life stressors in order to immerse myself in my writing. Part of that has been guilt over what I *could* be accomplishing instead of writing. And I have been more productive irl. There were also a few times where fandom drama really felt like it was imploding and I wasn't sure I *wanted* to write anymore. And interaction has definitely been lower this year. Overall though I still have things to say about kataang and their relationship and their family and Aang and Katara as individuals with a lot of trauma, so I keep writing when I can.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Absolutely hands down the entire second chapter of Free as the Wind. I've said it before, but I did not ever want to go there as an author. It's been done so many times and there are too many cultural elements that I was afraid of misusing or appropriating or being accidentally insensitive about. So I did NOT want to write that ever ever ever. But once I started with the "sneaking off" prompt, thinking it was going to be a sweet and probably a little spicy little one-shot, the characters took me in an entirely different direction and I wound up writing myself into a corner where that was the only way out. I'm still half waiting for an angry comment or dm one day, telling me how I messed it up.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:  It's long, but I love this mashup of dialogue and introspection from chapter 5 of UU:

“I could sense them still looking at us,” he explained in a whisper. He turned them out of the palace walkway and they continued down the streets of the Inner Ring and out towards their home. “I’m sorry if that was too much, I just wanted…”

“No, it wasn’t too much at all,” she interrupted, trying desperately to quell… whatever it was that was making her body tingle and her heart race and her mind spin. She felt her heart dropping down to the soles of her feet at the realization that this was all for the press. You need to get your feelings back under control, she scolded herself. This was pretend and you know it. “I didn’t realize they were still watching us—good catch.”

“Earthbending,” he said simply and shrugged.

“I know,” she said, feeling incredibly awkward. How was she going to go back to being just his friend when they were alone, now? To go back to not expecting him to kiss her hair or wrap his arm around her or press his body so deliciously against hers… 

They finished their walk back to the house in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was different. She wasn’t sure where they stood or what he was thinking, and she was afraid to ask. He walked her to her door, and things started to feel almost normal again when he leaned down for a hug. “Thanks again, Katara. For everything,” he murmured in her ear. She shivered.

“Anytime, Aang. Goodnight,” she said as she walked into her room and closed the door. She exhaled heavily and pressed her forehead against the ornate wood, not knowing that Aang was doing the exact same thing on the other side.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: I think I learned to show more, and to be more descriptive of the scenery and surroundings. I'm still working on it, but I think I did better than last year!

13. How do you hope to grow next year: I hope to be able to add more metaphor, symbolism, and overall meaning into said descriptions. I am also hoping to branch out and write out of my comfort zone a bit (maybe something that is not kataang/aang/katara centric? Maybe original fiction? WHO KNOWS). I was hoping to use fic-writing to kind of run the rust off the rails of my writing skills and get back to writing original fiction or creative non-fiction, which had been my life's dream and something I studied for a bit in school, but that takes a kind of bravery and vulnerability I'm not sure I have in me, yet.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@coyotelemon was my beta for UU and absolutely pushed me to grow in ways I could not have without her help. The number of times she had to write "PAINT MOAR" in the comments of my googledoc because I had completely left out the details, and the number of ideas she came up with when I was stuck show the sheer impact she had on this work, and I could not have done it without her <3

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Absolutely. Ties That Bind (rated G), my Katara Week piece for the prompt "Katara and her family" included a lot of elements of parenting and connecting with family that I have experienced in my own life. But pieces of my life show up in all areas of my writing.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: I don't think I have any *new* wisdom. Just keep reading, keep writing, and keep experimenting with those elements you love from your favorite stories. Don't be afraid to research and take risks. And find your people who will help you and cheer you on when you're feeling discouraged.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I'd really like to write that kataang/cloud-babies mixed race fic. I have bits and pieces, but as I've stated before what's really holding me back is research. Fingers crossed!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: I know it's 2023 now, but if you're so inclined... @coyotelemon, @shameaboutthedilettantism, @anervoussapphic, @itsmoonpeaches, @juicypersimmon, @cats-and-metersticks, @northerngoshawk... or anyone else who wants to do it!

[kellanwrites]

1st DNF of March

I started, and DNF'd Tomorrow and tomorrow and Tomorrow last night. There were a variety of reasons. These are just my opinions and if you liked this book great, a lot of people did, I just didn't and that's fine!

I didn't like Sadie or Sam at all in their introductions. And then the flashback happened and as someone who was a "charity" case, I really didn't appreciate that the start of their friendship started on a disception, AND that after she got her mandatory hours, she kept getting her sheet signed, which ended up just made her come across as really unlikable.

It felt like the author literally took a thesaurus and looked for the MOST pretentious words she could find. Like, don't get me wrong, I love a good pretentious word here and there, but if you're using a word just to make these two characters seem smart or to make the book seem smart, it just doesn't work. There is nothing wrong with NOT using an obscure word.

So these two alone aren't usually something that would make me DNF a book. Roll my eyes, yes, maybe give it a low rating, yes. But characters can grow and change, and maybe this was just because they were college students, but I looked at reviews just in case because while this was for Katie Colson's Patreon book club that I am a part of I wasn't going to read it just because of that. And I specifically looked at that 3 star or lower ratings because I wanted to see what people who didn't enjoy the book had to say. Which leads me to points 3 and 4, which I'm putting behind a cut because there might be spoilers.

3. So I get it, there is misogyny in the video game industry, and sexual harassment, and I was prepared to handle some sexual harassment, etc. But I saw a few reviewers mentioning not only sexual harassment, but sexual assault, and that one of Sadie's professor's basically had an inappropriate relationship with her and it wasn't necessarily painted as bad, even though Sadie kept telling him to leave her alone. Just because they are two adults, there is a definite power differential there and I felt like that was ignored.

4. Sam is apparently possessive of Sadie, and some of his very problematic and stalkery behavior is written off as romantic, IE, he apparently makes a game just to intrigue her and starts a relationship in game with their two characters without him telling her its him and when she tries to call him out everyone tells her she's overreacting. He drives by her place all the time even though she told him she didn't want to see him again, etc. Like, ok, gross.

Not to mention there were a lot of people mentioning that the book is full of miscommunication tropes, toxic relationships both romantic and platonic, etc, and that just does not spell a good time for Kellan, so I was like, you know what, I have 13 books on hold at the library, ten books checked out and a ton of Book of the Month backlog to catch up on, I ain't go time for this.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family. 

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced.  You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder. 

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers. 

--

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

--

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​ ; @artsymaddie​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​ ; @lunaserenade​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​ ; @heatherbel​ ; @marydjarin​ ; @annathewitch​ ; @absurdthirst​​ ; @hnt-escape​ ; @writingletterstothefire​​ ; @misswriter​​ ; @bison-writes​​

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

 Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

erotica, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your roommate, Min Yoongi, catches you masturbating. You catch him masturbating. Well then, dear reader... This should be interesting, shouldn’t it?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, f and m-masturbation, cum eating); non-idol!AU; switches between Yoongi’s POV and your POV

--

Being in the music industry was rough. It meant long nights struggling for inspiration, fervent mania when it did hit, and crippling anxiety when it was being evaluated. But being a music producer was all Min Yoongi ever wanted.

He had given up a lot to chase his dreams, moving to the big city alone, friendless, trying to find his way, living meal by meal. He needed a roommate, but finding a trustworthy one was difficult. Friend of a friend of a friend and he finally found someone who seemed alright. A young woman in the middle of grad school, who was looking for a place to stay. At first Yoongi thought it would be weird to room with a girl, but one conversation and he realized it would be a good match. Her first question was if he was going to have guests over often. Of course not, Yoongi had music to work on. Her second question was if he was clean, because she couldn’t stand a dirty living situation.

In short, he now had a quiet, paying roommate who kept to herself, holed up in her room all day studying or rushing to class.

Yoongi worked for a small entertainment company, but he also had a home studio because he couldn’t afford to rent a space. This was enough for now. He asked if she was fine with a little noise and she responded by holding up her over-the-ear headphones.

But Min Yoongi had a secret.

Nothing that incriminating. Nothing like drugs or a gambling problem or a recurring STD or something like that. It was in innocent secret, a very small one.

Min Yoongi liked to read erotica blogs.

Now, Yoongi could watch porn. He could go through all the hoops and find some to jack off to. That wasn’t why he preferred to read smut stories online. He just liked to use his own imagination. He liked closing his eyes and painting the scene, but he wasn’t creative enough to dream up all the freaky scenarios he could read online. Some people had some… big brain energy. Some wrinkly brains. He was pretty sure all his gray matter was used on music, so why not let someone else craft the story for him? It took the work out the equation and he could get off. Win-win.

Also, it was much easier to hide it in public. All people would see is him scrolling on his phone, the same thing everyone else did.

Yoongi had his favorites he went back to. They were updated often. Every week there was something new. He checked at least once a week, since that was his usual routine his body wanted. And it was fine. No one knew. He could do it whenever he wanted and relatively quickly. So, all in all, not that bad of a secret, really.

It was six in the morning and Yoongi was scrolling on his phone, mildly horny. Oh! One of his favorite blogs had updated late in the night. Nice. He chewed on his lower lip, reading the summary.

There was a knock on his door.

He nearly dropped his phone. The door was locked, thankfully.

“Yoongi-ssi?” He heard his roommate yawn sleepily. “Did you drink the last of the milk?”

He screwed up his face to think. “Maybe? I’ll buy some the next time I’m at the store.”

He heard the sounds of teeth being brushed and a muffled, “Nah, I’ll place a delivery order right now. I need stuff.”

And that was that. He heard her wander off.

Okay, a very, very, very small part of him did kind of want to get caught. Not embarrassingly or shamefully caught. Just… maybe if it ended in something kind of sexy. Like the stories.

That was would fun.

Yoongi went back to his phone.

-

You cracked your neck in the mirror, yawning again as you brushed your teeth. You rubbed your eyes, inspecting your dark circles. Ugh. Maybe a little concealer today couldn’t hurt.

You had stayed up late again, writing.

You hadn’t meant to. It happened every once in a while, when the scene played out in your head and you needed to write it down immediately. When inspiration struck, you couldn’t let it run away from you. Sometimes the best things come in short bursts of energy.

At least you didn’t have class today. You were caught up on your classes, so you could spend today writing for your blog. What you posted last night was written several days ago. You had a slight backlog so that you could review things multiple times before posting. Even if it was something as meaningless as smut posted on the internet, you took that shit seriously. This was your outlet and you wanted to personally like everything you posted.

If what you wrote didn’t make you horny, it wasn’t going to make anyone else horny either.

You spat and rinsed out your mouth.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your tired eyes looking back to you. Maybe you needed some socialization. Real socialization, not you eventually venturing outside because you needed to get laid for… research purposes. You chuckled. Well, you weren’t going to get that here. All your male roommate ever did was work on his music or eat. Which was alright; people were allowed to do what makes them happy. And besides, it was better that way, because you did actually need to study and eventually write your thesis. Less distraction at home was always better.

You turned off the lights in the bathroom and stepped out.

A strange noise came from Min Yoongi’s door.

You blinked, staring at the door several feet away from you. Then you shrugged. He probably just tripped. He was kind of clumsy sometimes, knocking shit over with his fat ass. Well, not really, but it was funny to think of it that way.

You went back to your room.

-

Oh fuck.

Yoongi stared at his door, clutching the toilet paper roll he hid in his nightstand. He was usually quite skilled at keeping quiet, but he accidentally moaned a little too loud. His hands were still sticky. He waited.

Her bedroom door down the hall closed and he sighed with relief.

-

When you got back to your room, you made the online grocery order. You needed pads anyway. Then you checked your blog. At this point, you had some familiar usernames you watched for. People rarely commented. Maybe their hands were busy or something. You could forgive. Besides, there were likes and that was enough. To be honest, you never expected anyone to actually do more than read. It felt kind of nice, knowing someone out there was willing to take one second to press one button to let you know.

It made you grateful, even if it was a small thing.

Your eye paused at one particular username. You only noticed it because it was gendered.

daeguboy0613.

Huh.

For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why someone would put their location and gender in their username. Maybe it was a reference to their favorite singer or something. Probably. You shrugged it off and flopped on your bed.

You fell asleep.

Big surprise since you had posted at four in the morning and only gotten up to brush your teeth because your mouth was too disgusting to exist. Ah well. Sleep was good.

-

You woke up, super groggy. You stared out the window, seeing that it was already dark. With a sigh, you looked into the tiny mirror beside your bed. Yikes. A master yikes even.  You climbed your hair with your fingers and got out of bed, your purple pajamas rumpled and crazy. Maybe a shower would do you good. Or a bath. Oh! That sounded nice.

You looked around for your slippers. You found one. Ack, so annoying. You weren’t a messy person, but when you were preoccupied with something, you forgot everything else. You straightened your room and found the other slipper. It was in your blankets, oof.

You opened your door and realized you forgot clean underwear. You stuck your head out, looking around. Faint bass was coming from Yoongi’s room. He’d be there for a while. Eh. You still had your violet pajamas, with long sleeves and long pants. Fully covered. He wasn’t going to know in the two seconds it would take you to get to your room. A good shake of the fleece fabric and the wrinkles would fall out. You’d look way less crazy after a good bath.

You hummed to yourself as you made your way to the bathroom.

-

Yoongi rubbed his neck, frowning.

It wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. The sound just wasn’t right. He leaned back in his chair, furrowing his brow. Maybe he needed to move on for now. Leave it and work on something else. He spun around in his chair, lazing about. He hadn’t heard his roommate make much noise all day. Was she dead? Yoongi heard the water running in the bathroom. Oh. She was taking a shower.

He thought about her for a moment. She was generally calm person, quiet and reserved. The only time he had ever seen her panic was when she was late to class, which wasn’t often. Other than that, she was kind of boring. It was like the only thing she thought about was school. She was pretty in a casual sort of way. Yoongi rarely saw her dressed up, but the few times she left at night, she always looked very nice in a short black dress and black heels. Probably a recurring outfit she used at every outing. He could respect that. Being strapped for cash meant a lot of repeating outfits.

Anyway, they didn’t interact much at all. They had their respective things to do, so they co-existed in a mutualistic, symbiotic relationship. It was nice not having to be distracted by a bad roommate, so for that he was grateful.

-

You pushed back the shower curtain, dripping water.

That was nice. You waited as the bathwater drained. Your hair was wet, kind of by accident, but whatever, you needed to wash your hair anyway. Your brushed water off your body absentmindedly, poking your nipples. They were hard from the cold air.

Hm.

The water gurgled as you rubbed them slowly, sighing softly. That was nice. When was the last time you masturbated? You couldn’t remember. You looked at the bathroom door. It wasn’t locked, but what was Yoongi going to do? Open the door on you? Yeah, right. You pinched and pulled your nipples, sucking in a breath. It was nice to touch yourself, to cup your breasts and press them together, grazing your nails over the hardened nubs, imagining someone else’s hands touching you, wanting you.

You slid against the wall, moaning quietly as you played with your breasts, water beading on your skin. One of your hands slid down between your legs and slid around your folds. The wetness of your pussy was different from water, thicker, more viscous. Your eyes closed as you stroked your clit, slow and gentle and pretty. Imagining a tongue there, licking you softly, giving you just the right amount of pressure to build your arousal. No rushing, letting it last.

You ended up sliding to your knees, spreading your thighs wide to give your hand space. Your other hand played with your nipples leisurely, pinching and pulling, making your heart jump. You were quiet, barely making any noise.

Drip.

Your eyes opened hazily. They shifted slowly to the faucet. It was dripping water. Slow, fat plops hitting the bathtub.

Drip.

You pressed harder on your clit, rubbing roughly.

Drip.

Your eyes shifted to the silver faucet again. It was right there, after all.

Fuck it.

You turned the water on again, setting it to a nice temperature. You waited impatiently, touching the water. It heated up quickly. You bit your lower lip, and then raised the temperature a tad. It torrented down and, for a split second, you thought you weren’t going to do it.

Then you adjusted your hips and planted your ass on bottom of the bathtub and slid down to the water.

Instant, unyielding. You shivered, the blasting water jet-streaming right into your pussy. Holy fuck. You slid down a little more and moaned, hoping the water masked your sound as the high-pressure water smacked your clit, lowering to your elbows to get a better angle. Heart beating fast, legs folded flat against the edge of the tub, leaning your head back, tits straight up. It was a difficult position to keep, but a rewarding one, because the water was getting you off fast, gentle enough that you weren’t in pain but hard enough that you could really feel it radiate all over you, the heat adding to the pleasure.

So close, so close…

You closed your eyes, thighs burning, core tightening as your entire body began to throb. A slow hiss escaped your lips as you felt your orgasm unfurl and hit you, wave after wave of delicious pleasure swimming through you, spreading to every point of your body.

“Are you drowning or wasting water, the fuck is–”

Min Yoongi’s voice was trying to cut through your reverie but it was impossible because you were too far gone now, legs collapsing inward, body falling flat against the tub. The door was open and he was staring at you, eyes so wide they looked like dinner plates. Water flowed over your hot body, blanketing you. Slowly, slowly, you came down, like an addict losing their high. His mouth was slightly open, kitten-like. His white t-shirt stuck to his chest and black track pants far too oversized for his slim legs.

You might have been ashamed if you were younger, but you were older now. If he couldn’t handle you getting off every once in a while, then he was the one who needed help.

You reached up and turned the water off, panting. You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“If you’re so worried about it, I’ll pay the whole water bill this month,” you gasped, chest heaving as you glared back at him.

Yoongi sputtered back to life.

“N-no, that’s fine.”

And then he slammed the door.

You sighed, frowning. Now things were going to get weird.

-

Holy shit.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

He just witnessed his roommate masturbating with the goddamn water faucet.

Yoongi scrambled into his room and onto his bed, red in the face. He hadn’t meant to. He thought something weird was going on when he heard all the water. And, oh fuck, something was, but not the something he thought. His mind replayed the image for him, her legs spread, her breasts glistening with water, nipples hard and out, head tipped back and mouth open, tongue peeking out.

He was still hard.

His heart was thumping in his ribcage. Yoongi grabbed his phone and flipped through his liked posts. He had to get off. Now. Anything else could wait.

He slid in, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

Impatiently, he reached down and fished his dick out of his pants, sliding to his back and pushing his track pants down. Oh fuck, sweet relief. Yoongi stroked himself, reading, imagining her wet body, her slick hair, those fucking delicious breasts right in front of his face. Had Yoongi ever fantasized about his roommate before? Hell no, he wasn’t a damn pervert. But he was doing it now, because, fuck, how could he not? How could he not want to fuck her, press himself against her, hearing that soft moan against his ear, her wet body and smooth skin on his?

Yoongi dropped his phone, pushing his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Yes, he’d jacked off in the morning, but it was already late and he was so fucking horny it didn’t take very long for him to bite the inside of his cheek, trying to muffle his noise, trying to silence himself as the familiar wind-up came. He cracked his eyes open. His door was slightly ajar. Had he left it like that? Whatever, she was probably too embarrassed to come over here anyway.

Yoongi shut his eyes again, a soft cry leaving his lips as he chased his orgasm.

Then he felt it. A presence to his left. But he was so close, so close, so close, he couldn’t stop. His hand moved at a feverish pace, spreading the pre-cum over his length, adding to the pleasure. He felt lips on his cheek, her soft breathy moans against his skin. Was he imagining it? Then her lips on his, softly licking his tongue, so sensual and sexy that he was losing it, moaning into her mouth. He felt her hot breath glide into his and he groaned, too loud this time, feeling his cock twitch and spurt his cum everywhere, sliding down his hand, his wrist, onto his pants and shirt.

Yoongi panted, opening his eyes.

His roommate moved away from his face. Eyes dark in the low light of his room, pupils blown wide with lust. Her hair was still damp, slicked against her purple pajama shirt. He didn’t know what to do. Hos hand was a mess, covered in his cum. She leaned forward, tongue sliding out.

“Um…”

His thought was cut off as her warm tongue ran over his knuckles, scooping up his cum and eating it off his hand. His eyes went wide as she licked all around his hand, his fingers, dipping her tongue into the crevices. Yoongi could barely process what was happening right now. Was his nerdy, school-obsessed roommate licking his cum off his hand after he just masturbated? After he just witnessed her masturbating? Her mouth enveloped the head and part of his hand and Yoongi moaned, feeling her tongue press against the tip and tease the sensitive opening, licking it all clean.

After a sufficient amount, she removed her mouth and backed off. Yoongi blinked blearily, slowly detaching his hand from his limp cock. He didn’t know what to say. Or do, really. Her eyes were on his phone, screen still lit up. Then she shifted her eyes to his raised hand. Gently, she took him by the wrist and brought his hand to her face, placing his fingers in her mouth, sucking on them.

Yoongi was speechless.

Her tongue slipped between each finger, prodding around his joints, slurping slightly. She was still looking at his phone, eyes pensive. Yoongi wished his cock would wake up, but it wasn’t meant to be.

“I…”

Her eyes went to his, his fingers still in her mouth. Shit. His brain tried to process the thought, trying not to fixate on her pink tongue moving amongst his fingers.

“I can’t fuck you…” he mumbled, swallowing. “I already came twice today.”

She nodded. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, joint by joint. His body jerked at the movement, aroused but unable to get hard. Strings of saliva snapped as she removed her mouth from his hand. She turned it around and licked his palm lightly, making him shiver.

“You like my blog?” she finally said.

He blinked.

“What?”

She pointed to his phone. “That’s my blog.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide. He stared at his phone and then at her. Then back at the phone. Then back at her. What? She cocked an eyebrow, smiling at him.

“So, you’re daeguboy0613, huh?”

He blinked rapidly. “I… what… ah…?”

“Guess that makes sense when you like my posts at two in the morning and such.”

She climbed on the bed – where were her pajama pants? Her panties? – and laid down next to him.

“You don’t seem like the type to read erotica,” she said absentmindedly. “I thought only girls read erotica.”

Yoongi stared at the ceiling. “Obviously not, since I’m a guy.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t stereotype like that.”

Silence.

“We can always do more in the morning, Yoongi-ssi.”

Two things happened that day. One, Yoongi’s secret was exposed. And two, the source of Yoongi’s secret passed out in bed next to him, head on his shoulder.

-

34+35

--

masterpost

[light-yaers]

No Saints: Chapter One

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

A/N: Hey everyone! So, after some consideration, I’ve also decided to post each No Saints chapter on individual Tumblr posts, as well as Ao3. I know some people like reading things on Tumblr and it must just seem easier if there are actual chapters uploaded to here as well. I’ll be posting them all over the next few days and then we’ll be all caught up! 

This also means that I can now have a TAG LIST, so if you’d like to be notified for when Chapter Nine comes out, then please tell me and I’ll tag you when I update next. 

Once again please excuse any small spelling or grammar mistakes. No beta we die like men.

Word Count - 7.3k

Chapter One

Working as a mechanic on Nevarro didn’t often gift you the visual of friendly faces, and that was no different with the Mandalorian—he never showed his face. You wouldn’t know his smile even if he decided to wake up one day without slotting Beskar all over his body.

But you knew his stance, the broadness of his shoulders, his preference for short range blasters with the safety close enough for his index finger to reach before firing at will. You didn’t really know people on Nevarro, but you knew their weapon of choice.

It was knowledge that had ended up being valuable, both to your survival, and to that of the Mandalorian.

“I’ll pay you for this information,” He offered bluntly. He never begged, nor did he show his true emotions within his modulated voice very often. The only vague emotion you’d seen him give off was anger—seething and insatiable— the first time he’d ever approached you for a repair.

“What good will this information give you?” You asked, genuinely. “I don’t know their names, this is hunter country. No one ever gives away their identity,”

“A weapon needs someone doing the firing,” He replied simply.

You agreed to his terms, partly from the initial fear that he would harm you, think you to be working against the Guild, but also from the generous sum he was willing to give you for every piece of information you passed onto him.

And thus, began a sort-of partnership that you’d never expected.

You were no saint. You knew the damage done by the goods you willingly sold to trained killers, assassins, Guild members. You saw the bodies dragged from their ships to the Guild, you saw the bounties that went out, kicking and screaming and spitting at their captors—

You saw the blood and dirt and flakes of flesh with every weapon upgrade or repair, but now, you didn’t bat an eye. It was business, it was your livelihood, and it was good money, thanks this this agreement with the Mandalorian that you’d made a while back.

Mando arrived back on Nevarro every few weeks. His condition was always subject to review; sometimes he flowed through your doors, ready for a quick exchange; other times, he took his time with it, sitting opposite you as you went through the recent repair logs, discussing the types of people that came through your doors.

Over the months, however, he always ended up sticking around for longer periods of time. Whether it was from earlier exhaustion, or the normalcy of having a conversation that didn’t end in bloodshed, you didn’t mind. He was the only constant in your life, splitting up your weeks and months when, before, honest interaction had basically been at zero.

“Are you not worried?” He asked one evening. It was late, and your shop was technically closed. You’d awoken to the subtle clicks of your entrance being lockpicked, hoisting yourself out of bed in nothing but your nightwear and grabbing the blaster you kept by your pillow.

You’d rushed to the shop front, aiming your blaster right at his chrome covered head. He’d raised his hands immediately, not once going for his own weapon. The feeling in the pit of your stomach as you lowered your weapon hadn’t been one of anxiety, but of warmth—he trusted you enough not to grab his weapon, not to even incline that he was going to shoot you.

“Worried about what?” You replied, flicking through the logbook.

“A bounty escaping, knowing that you shared this information,” You stopped flicking through the pages, freezing slightly where you sat opposite him. You sensed his sudden unease, deciding to look up directly into his visor.

“Tell me this, Mando,” You began. “What’s my name?”

He looked at you blankly, but you liked to imagine what facial expression he pulled beneath his helmet. In this moment, you imagined he was almost panicking, trying desperately to think back at what your name could be. It’d been over six months, yet names were never properly discussed. His silence proved that he’d just realised this.

“See? You don’t know it. My face is somewhat known here, sure, but my name? I try not to share it as much as you try not to show your face,” You sent him a raised brow smirk. Innately, you felt you had a responsibility to come across stronger than you looked, which is why you shoved down those subtle flickers of anxiety that arose from his question.

Sure, you had those doubts, anyone would. But living on Nevarro, doing what you did, it was an element of the job that you simply had to expect. You suspected Mando also knew that feeling well.

“You’re single-handedly keeping me in business, Mando,” You chuffed, almost sadly, but kept up an unbothered attitude. “I wasn’t going to turn this down and all these months down the line, no matter the danger, wouldn’t change that.” You ended, and you could have sworn you heard him breathe out, almost as if he was relieved that you knew these conditions from the beginning.

You kept flicking through the logbook, until you finally stumbled across a repair. “Here it is,” You perked up, shuffling yourself round so Mando could see the book over your shoulder. Your index finger grazed the page, just underneath the line he was looking for. “Repaired his blaster pistol last month. He didn’t look like a hunter, more like a scared blurrg, from what I can recall,”

“Young? Old?” Mando questioned.

“On the young side, definitely. Looked more like a runaway than anything else,” You added, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest. Usually, you divulged the weapon information of other hunters gone rogue, wanted by the Guild; assassins and thieves, or whatever other dirt washed up on Nevarro and in your shop.

This, however—you remembered him. He was young, he was scared, shaking like a newly born calf when he’d bumbled into your shop.

“That fits the bill,” Mando stated, before rising from his seat. You followed suit, making your way back round your front work desk and slotting the logbook beneath it. You tried to keep your expression blunt when you turned back to him, but you couldn’t help the wave of overthinking that landed in your brain.

You stared at him, leaning against the desk until your shoulders rose to cover your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a sigh, but evidently that was enough for you to get the Mandalorian’s attention.

“What?” He spoke harshly, in the same old modulated boom you were used to hearing. You forced yourself to stay still, trying desperately to find his eyes beneath the abyss of his dark visor, but of course it was no use.

“Don’t break into my shop next time,” You diverted your emotions. “Just knock if it’s after hours,”

Mando nodded once, the moonlight gleaming off the chrome that surrounded his face for just a second, before disappearing once more. He shuffled a leather gloved hand through his satchel for just a few seconds, before approaching you at the work desk.

Unceremoniously, he placed your pay in front of you, each credit dropping with a small ping against the metal surface.

“See you,” Mando said bluntly. You nodded in return, before the Beskar covered man left your shop swiftly, shutting your door gently on his way out. You stared at the credits disapprovingly, before going to relock the door behind him.

You forced yourself to shuffle through your pay, counting the credits so you could note them in your budget, but you furrowed your brows as you finished rounding them up. You must have counted them wrong—there were an extra five hundred credits than what you’d agreed with the Mandalorian all those months ago.

Shaking your head, you went about recounting them, only to get to the same exact outcome. Was it an honest mistake in his counting, or had he overpaid you? Tipped you, helped you, heard the way your voice had almost faltered when you’d told him he was keeping you afloat?

You were awash with a new type of conflict—somewhere between thanks and extreme anger. The thanks were certain; he’d listened, and he hadn’t needed to do that, but he’d done it anyway. The anger; this implied you owed him now. As much as you’d come to enjoy his occasional visits every few weeks, the man was still an utter mystery to you. You didn’t want him to have the option of springing up in here and asking for a favour, knowing that he’d done one for you prior.

But there was still a warmth—it came subtly and out of the blue often, when you were around him. You could have slapped yourself at how fast it came this time round, taking you by surprise and speeding your heart rate up beneath your ribs.

He’s a bounty hunter. Get over it.

You placed your usual cut in your savings bundle, in the safe by your bed, but the extra five hundred stayed out of that bag. You shuffled back into bed with no indication of tiredness flooding over you again. All you saw in the static darkness of your grimy bedroom was the outline of that damn helmet—

And the wonder of what lay beneath.

The next week and a half was long and soul-crushingly slow. You’d had about three repair requests total, completing them all in a matter of hours, not making more than a few thousand credits from the sales. Nevarro had seemed restless recently, with less hunters returning to the Guild for more pucks. Maybe it was just a slow week.

Mando arrived back in the evening again, after you closed your doors early for the weekend. The sunlight trickled over Nevarro sparsely, but that evening was particularly warm, so you decided to have some fun.

Your shop had a back courtyard, nothing major, but you’d transformed it into a mini-firing range a year or so back. You were firing a classic blaster when you heard him approach from behind you—you jumped out of your skin at the sight of him, blaster raised, defensive stance donned.

“I told you to knock, Mando,” You boomed out, clutching your heart and switching the safety on your blaster immediately. Mando raised his arms in subtle apology, but you could have sworn you saw the subtle shake of his shoulders beneath the Beskar.

“You sounded... busy,” He spoke, and you squinted at him, feeling your cheeks flushing. The bastard was laughing. He was silently giggling beneath his helmet, the only indication of his lapse of stoicism being from the tiniest movement of his chest and shoulders, almost indecipherable.

You shot him an amused scowl. “Did you—,”

“I locked it,” He replied, already knowing what you were asking. You gulped down surprise at his immediate response, turning back to your makeshift firing range and trying desperately to calm yourself down.

Now, you were a strong woman, that was no question. But the constant mystery of the last six months in Mando’s presence had provided you with more than you’d bargained for. Was it a reflex to suddenly feel invested in this guy’s life after a while? To want to know his backstory, his missions, his favourite breakfast food or blaster style?

The extra credits from your previous trade had only increased these feelings. What was it about a man in a mask? Or, more specifically, what was it about Mando?

And now, as you awkwardly struggled with the safety on a blaster you’d been firing since you were twelve fucking years old, all you could think about was the tone of his voice as he’d said I locked it.

“You shoot?” Mando questioned, moving round to stand next to you. You shot him a smirk, trying to conceal the thoughts within your head.

“I don’t just repair blasters, if that’s what you mean,” You could have cringed at how cocky you’d sounded, but it was too late.

“Show me,” He spoke. He didn’t demand it, but the way his voice arched it was as if he could make anyone do anything he said, just from the steadiness of that modulated drawl.

You did as you were told. You shook off your limbs subtly, before flicking off the safety and aiming at the targets you’d made. In flashes of green, you hit one, two, three targets with ease, right in the centre of their bullseye.

You changed it up, feeling a surge of confidence, or perhaps the want to impress this stoic man. Skilfully, you flipped the blaster in your hands until it had transferred to your other hand, firing another three times on the same targets and hitting them dead centre once more.

Your index finger clicked the safety on, before you stood in place, admiring the shots you’d fired.

“Try this one,” He said beside you, before he plucked the blaster from your hand and replaced it with this own weapon. You looked it over as it slotted into your grasp. It was heavier than yours, bigger, with a more distanced safety, probably because of the hand width that the Mandalorian possessed.

You furrowed your brows at his blaster, smiling at the way the steel glinted. It was well cared for, polished and gleaming, but slightly worn away around the trigger. Well-used. His own personalised weapon.

You raised the blaster towards the targets, all too aware of the way that chrome helmet was tilted towards you. You steadied your arm, applying just the right amount of pressure against the trigger, before it fired in quick succession—

You analysed the blast fire, the weight, the wind, fixing your trajectory upon impact with the trigger in a matter of milliseconds. When you stopped firing, overseeing the new collection of burning holes in the targets, you realised you’d hit them all dead centre again.

To your delight, or to your utter amazement, Mando let out a low, long whistle from beneath his Beskar.

“That’s a custom weapon,” He spoke afterwards, moving to stand before you. “Not many people could change their shooting style like that to fit the blast radius,” It was the closest thing to a compliment that you’d ever heard him offer.

You stayed silent as he replaced his blaster with your own once more, sheathing his weapon before his visor looked straight into your soul. It was shameful, how you realised you could probably stand there and analyse the chiselled and curved edges of his helmet for hours, how if you focused strongly, you could see him breathing beneath his heavy armour.

You forced yourself to step back, looking back towards the shop. “Right—business,” You said, heading inside immediately with Mando following on your tail.

You dropped your blaster on your work desk, grabbing the logbook and getting ready to flick through it once more, before Mando spoke up.

“I seek no information today,” He revealed. You froze, before slotting the logbook back beneath the desk slowly, trying to wrap your mind around his reason for visiting you.

“Okay,” You said, upon rising from beneath the desk once more. All of a sudden, you remembered his money—burning a hole in the safe in your room. You perked up, slapping your hands on the desk for lack of what the fuck to even do before getting round to almost scolding this man. “Then, I have a bone to pick with you,”

Mando dropped himself onto his usual stool, flicking his cape behind him and leaning back in subtle comfort. You swallowed, trying not to interpret anything from his clearly at ease behaviour, before heading to your bedroom quickly.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” He spoke up from the shop floor, and your heart skipped. Was that an attempt at a joke? At some comedy? You had to stop yourself, as you got to the floor and riffled through your safe for his overpaid credits, from allowing a warmth to spread through your gut.

You wanted to curse, as loud as you could. Had it really been that long that you were getting flustered over words from a Mandalorian? Undoubtedly the most hostile and unwelcoming people the galaxy had?

Or, was it just Mando himself that had you overthinking every sentence, every visit?

Credits secured in your fist, you made your way back out to the shop, dropping yourself opposite him and grabbing his arm suddenly, not stopping to think that this man could probably break you in half with his bare hands.

You dropped the credits in his gloved hand, sitting back as he stared at the pellets he now cradled in his palm.

“Not what we agreed,” Is all you said in explanation, picking up a tankard of water and sipping some down your throat, for lack of knowing how to cover up your neon cheeks after the exchange. The weather. It’s just the heat.

“I upped your pay,” He retorted.

“Bullshit, Mando,” You retaliated, allowing a few chuckles to escape your lips. Your face softened then, as you looked over to him, sitting awkwardly, still not knowing what to do with the returned credits. “Your money is your money, Mando. I’m fine with what we agreed,”

His fingers finally clasped around the credits, as his body went back to relax against the wall once more.

“Your shop,” Mando began. “You said I keep you in business,”

“That doesn’t mean I want more of your credits. Owning a washed-up weapons repair shop on kriffing Nevarro isn’t ideal, but neither is being a bounty hunter,”

“You’d earn more as a hunter with the way you shoot,” Mando replied instantly. You perked your brow, sending him a small smile.

“Are you saying I’m not a good weapons mechanic?”

You almost burst out laughing with the way Mando straightened himself, immediately being on edge. His fists tightened, almost as if he was suddenly overthinking if he’d insulted you or not.

“N-no,” He partially stuttered out, but you couldn’t keep your laughter contained. You burst out in giggles, overseeing his complete lack of sarcastic understanding. It was endearing; it made him appear more human.

“Joke, Mando. It was a joke,”

He relaxed after that once more, albeit more hesitantly. He went to slot the credits back in his bag placed on the floor, and as he did so, you allowed yourself to indulge. Beskar gleamed as he leant down, showing the twist of his torso and outlining strong triceps on the small amount of him that was unarmoured.

His neck was slender, compared to the size of his helmet. You wondered how the hell he wore that thing constantly. It didn’t look light, nor did you expect it to be all that comfortable.

If he saw you gawking when he rose once more, he didn’t make any indication of noticing. To avoid revealing what you’d been doing, you moved to cross your legs as a save. “So, why’re you here?” You finally asked, remembering that he had no reason to have visited you.

Mando tensed up slightly at your question, but not enough to come across as surprised. He’d already admitted to not needing information from you today.

“Habit,” He replied honestly. His one-word answer cut through you like a knife, striking your core and filling it with that warmth one again. It wasn’t often that you felt exposed, but sat opposite him, in your home, hearing him be so unapologetically honest had simply made those thoughts rise to the forefront of your mind once more.

You wanted to know him, but you also knew that asking him these things would result in nothing good.

You forced yourself to swallow down these rising wants, to push them away completely, before putting on a small smile. “That’s a funny way of saying that I’m your only friend,”

All effort to force those feelings away dissolved, as soon as you heard the low, modulated chuckles from beneath his helmet. They floated through the room, along with the image of his shaking shoulders and tight chest as his laughter tumbled to the floor.

You felt your cheeks flush immediately, knowing that it would be a noticeable blush. You grabbed your tankard, bringing it to your lips as you continued to indulge in looking at him, as he calmed down from the small burst of laughter that he allowed himself to show you.

There was something pulsing within you that you simply couldn’t contain; that want; that desire, after so long without knowing anyone on this godforsaken planet. Before you could stop yourself, words were already tumbling from your mouth.

“I don’t see many people on this planet, besides you,” You admitted. Mando slowly turned his visor to you, making it known that you had his full attention.

You immediately felt too vulnerable, resulting in you standing from your seat and heading round to your work desk, slamming the tankard down on the top. “It’s... well, it’s nice. I hope that, even if you don’t need information, you continue to come by,”

You held your breath as soon as you stopped talking, too afraid that you’d overstepped a line. Not that this transaction with him had ever been professional, but you knew Mandalorian’s were inherently focused on their job, and their job only.

When he didn’t reply, or move, or do anything, you started to panic. You played it off as best as you could, by downing the rest of the water in your tankard and averting your gaze to beneath your work desk, like you had the immediate need to start taking inventory.

Mando rose a few moments later, grabbing his satchel and placing it over his shoulder. The breath caught in your throat as he approached your desk. You almost gasped as a gloved hand reached for your forearm, dragging it out to hover in front of him.

He dropped the five hundred credits into your palm as your eyes flicked over his helmet at light speed. He stepped back, removing his grip from you and placing his visor upon your face one last time, before turning on his heels and heading for the door.

He unlocked it, but didn’t open it. You felt your pounding heartbeat as he cleared his throat.  

“It is,” He let out lowly. “Nice.”

The door swooped open and shut behind him gently before you could say anything in return.

He didn’t come back the next week. You wondered if you’d scared him off, if your tiny confession of enjoying his company was too much.

You thought back to the way he’d said the word— Nice— as if it wasn’t something that was often spoken in his vocabulary. For a man of little words, you were increasingly amazed at how he managed to convey things with his body alone, being weighed down and covered up by Beskar at all times.

The credits still weighed on you. You’d given them back to him, you’d made yourself clear, but then he’d given them back and left without a trace.

You prayed to some god out there that it wasn’t a Mandalorian way of saying goodbye. From what you knew of Mandalore, which was very little, you knew they weren’t the gift giving types, but it still made you think.

Yet all that he’d done, despite the deal, the trade of information and the abrupt middle of the night awakenings, those small attempts at light-hearted banter and void visits had given you just a shred of hope.

People on Nevarro were cut-throat, you knew that better than most after making your home there for so long. That’s why this shook you to your core, sparking this unlikely partnership with someone such as Mando.

Stars, you missed him. It sounded ridiculous when you said it in your head, but you did. Contact was little to none on this planet.

You didn’t speak more than a sentence to people needing repairs. You didn’t sit down and talk, and fuck, the loneliness was something you were used to— yet six months of regular meetings, even just to trade information, had offered you a warmth you hadn’t realised you’d missed—

Until he was gone.

It wasn’t until three weeks later that you ventured out of the shop, certain that you were going mad. You hardly frequented the bar at the entrance of the city, choosing to stay safe and locked away in your small isolation inside the shop, but the absence of people was sucking you dry.

You entered the bar, making sure not to seem out of place. It was still an odd feeling, seeing people sitting around and drinking. You knew a lot of the locals— returning customers for repairs, all of which were hunters.

Perhaps there was some unspoken understanding that you weren’t to be touched, as the small nods of hunters hit you when you accidentally met their eyes. It almost made you feel known, but at the same time you hadn’t felt much since that last conversation with the Beskar clad hunter.

You were heading towards the bar when a voice rang out behind you. “Miss!” You swivelled on your heels, hitting his eyes.

It was Greef Karga. You knew him, everyone on Nevarro did. He was the Guild contact here, the one that most hunters got their pucks from for the next job.

“Karga, hello,” You replied, not politely, but not harshly. Being polite got you nowhere on Nevarro, and you knew that despite his smiles and willingness to be friendly, Karga was a snake in the grass.

“Drink?” He questioned, and you found yourself accepting his offer. You made your way to his booth, slotting yourself in opposite him. He grabbed a bottle of blue liquor from the floor by his feet, clicking at the droid behind the bar for glasses. “What brings you here? You don’t usually venture from your establishment,”

You regarded him, all too aware of the blaster on your hip for safety.

“Slow few weeks. Fancied a change of scenery,” You replied bluntly.

“Ah yes, business is slower than usual currently,” He admitted. A droid placed two shot glasses on your table, scuttling back to the bar. Karga swiped them towards him, uncorking the bottle and filling up both glasses. “But your repairs are stellar, and I hear your custom blasters are best sellers,”

He dragged a glass towards you, which you took once he’d taken his hand away. You swilled the liquid around, trying not to look too despondent.

“Parts are sparse,” You admitted. “Fewer hunters need new gear. I’m starting to think there’s someone better than me on Nevarro,”

Karga let out a coarse laugh, which you first mistook for a chesty cough. His smile was indication enough, however, of the funniness he obviously though that required.

“No, my dear, there’s no one better,” He replied. You chose to ignore him calling you dear. Opposite you he raised his glass to the sky, prompting you to do the same. “To good business in future,”

You nodded at him in response, before downing the blue liquor in one gulp. It burned as it slinked down your throat, hitting your stomach and causing a warmth to spread through your gut. Nothing like the small conversations the Mandalorian gave you, but it made you feel something— and that was in short supply around here.

Karga sighed in refreshment after slamming his glass back on the table, but his gaze fixed on something behind you as you deposited your glass back down. “Ah, Mando!” He exclaimed.

Your heart stopped.

You stayed utterly frozen in place, feeling a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline surge through you.

“That was fast. I wasn’t expecting you back for another few days at least,” Karga continued.

You tried not to let the hurt surge through you. So, he had been back since your last meeting. He’d been back, and he hadn’t come to visit. You tried to rationalise your hurt— he held no obligation to stop by the shop, he held no responsibility, yet— you wished—

You wished he would have.

“I trust you know our resident weapons mechanic,” Karga continued, gesturing to you. You forced yourself to turn round and look at him— face to face. His helmet stared at you blankly in response, and you wondered what expression he held beneath.

Maybe it was annoyance, thinking he was finally rid of a nobody mechanic from the inner city.

Maybe it was surprise, or hurt, or pain. You knew that despite the immense effort you were putting in to keep your stare blunt, he’d see right through you.

“Yes,” Mando replied after what seemed like hours. You turned back to Karga, pushing your glass to the middle of the table in dismissal.

“Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going,” You got up swiftly, standing in front of Mando after leaving the booth. He looked down at you, chrome visor focusing on your eyeline. You found yourself flicking your eyes from the left and right, as if you could see the placement of his eyes beneath the helmet—

Then you looked away.

You sauntered out of the bar, ignoring exclaimed farewells from Karga as you booked it out of the bar, heading straight back to the shop. Your strides were fierce, your heart pounded painfully beneath your ribs and you couldn’t stop yourself from balling your fists.

You felt like screaming, but you kept your mouth shut and your jaw tense. You felt like punching, kicking, pounding something, but you didn’t, instead opting to breathe it out as you entered your shop and slammed the door shut behind you.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

You yelled at yourself to calm down, to accept that it was nothing. God forbid, you’d gotten worked up over the smallest indication of human interaction, from a man whose face you’d never fucking seen, no less.

It was stupid. You’d long grown out of enjoying fairy tales, and this wasn’t one. You were a grown woman, hyper-fixating over a six-month long dodgy deal with a bounty hunter that you didn’t fucking know— not really, anyway.

In a frenzy, you unsheathed your blaster, heading out to your courtyard. You fired at will, not stopping to aim your blaster or even try to hit the targets. When that got dull, you actually started to try—you positioned your feet parallel to your shoulders, straightening your spine and extending your neck—

You fired, hitting the targets dead centre every time, just like normal.

You fired until your trigger finger began to ache, until the incessant anger and hurt in your chest had dissipated to a low roar that you could manage in other ways—with the bottle of Coruscant whiskey that you only saved for special occasions; big deals, good months, and, evidently, to feel something other than red, hot and seething anger.

You went to sheath your blaster, when the hairs on the back of your neck pricked up—

You turned swiftly, raising your gun and keeping your eyes wide open. You faltered when you saw the familiar glint of moon rays on chrome. Mando stood in the courtyard doorway, just as he’d done the last time you’d seen him.

Your elbow buckled, dropping the blaster to your side as you kept yourself composed. You stared him down like you were unbothered to see him. You had a feeling he knew that wasn’t the case, though, and if he’d been there for a few minutes before then your incessant firing would have proven otherwise.

“Mando,” You spoke first, keeping your voice steady. “What information do you need this time?” You kept it professional, not wanting to think back about the way you’d been so blatantly vulnerable to him before. He probably thought you to be childish, over-emotional, idiotic.

You’d rather he thought you to be that, than weak.

“What were you doing with Karga?” He demanded it this time. His voice was low, lower than usual, despite the modulator. You sheathed your pistol, stepping towards him once. He didn’t move aside.

“Drinking,” You stated the obvious. You made a move to try and get past him, but a Beskar covered forearm leant up against the doorframe, stopping you even more so.

“He’s bad news,” He continued. You let out an annoyed scoff.

“I know who Karga is. Kriff—I live here,” You accidentally let your annoyance travel through your words, making it exceptionally clear that you were pissed, if it hadn’t been obvious before.

You grabbed his forearm, tugging it away from the doorframe and pushing your way inside. He let you pass eventually, watching as you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from beneath your work desk. You jumped up onto the desk, letting your legs droop over the side as you uncorked the bottle.

It was silent. You could tell he was trying to find something to say, to bring up the obvious tension, but you also got the sense that Mando didn’t often apologise.

Why should he? He didn’t promise to come back.

He hadn’t promised. You had no idea why you were so ticked off, yet there you were—seething, angry, hurt, perhaps on the brink of tears, but possibly relishing in the fact he’d come to the shop after your little encounter. You felt sick at your own feelings.

“Are you... mad at me?” He spoke finally. The breath caught in the back of your throat. His hesitation made it clear; he didn’t often delve into the workings of others. He was being kind by even asking you about this.

You felt like a dick. All of a sudden, you could see even more so that you were being incredibly irrational. Weeks of zero contact had turned you into a moron. A lonely, overthinking moron.

You glanced up at him, holding the whiskey between your thighs. You let out a sigh.

“No,” You let out. “I’m sorry. It’s been... a strange, few weeks,” You chuckled slightly after speaking, bringing the bottle to your lips and taking a small gulp. “Loneliness is a disease, Mandalorian,” You added, taking another sip and slotting the bottle back between your thighs.

Mando moved from the doorway, striding towards you slowly. You stayed in place, focusing on the warmth that the whiskey provided you with. You finally looked up when he stood before you, not close enough to slot between your hips, but close enough for your knees to graze against Beskar.

He reached out for the bottle, grabbing it from between your thighs and making his way around to the main shop. You went to turn, but the leather of his gloved hand slotted itself between your jaw and your neck, pushing your gaze to the back of the shop.

“Don’t look,” He told you, warningly.

You did as you were told, all the while counting your shallow breaths as they quietly shook from within your body. You heard the subtle glug of the bottle, the drip as the liquid sloshed around within the glass, and then the bottle was being slotted back between your thighs from behind.

Mando’s arm wrapped itself around you as he made sure it was back in place, his glove grazing over the top of your thigh and skimming your waist as he retracted his arm back. You’d be lying if you didn’t relish in those small touches.

They set your skin alight, despite there being no skin-to-skin contact involved. It was the closest he’d ever come to you, allowing the gentler side of himself to appear. You’d never see him this way; guard down, a softness to his voice and his unknowing gaze.

You knew that he’d just raised his helmet to take a sip of whiskey—that was enough to make you gulp back the desires within your gut. You couldn’t believe he’d felt comfortable enough to do that around you. You hesitantly turned, waiting to see if it was allowed, but fully turned to him when he didn’t push your gaze away like before.

You swivelled on the top of the desk, bringing your legs round to droop over the other side, while Mando grabbed his usual stool and dragged it closer to you.

He sat, sighing slightly as he did so, before looking up at you sat before him.

“Solitude,” He spoke. “I prefer that word,” His voice was soft. You knew he was tired just from the way he spoke; he was exhausted.

“Solitude implies a sense of peace,” You replied, stepping carefully over your words. “Do you feel peace in your ship, all alone?”

“Do you feel peace in this shop?” He hit back with, avoiding your question completely. You were about to say no, but you stopped yourself. This shop was all you had, all you knew. Your choice of loneliness, over solitude, was an obvious indication of the way it made you feel, and you wanted to bet that Mando knew that, but—

Without this life, you didn’t know where you’d be.

“It’s all I have,” You admitted, finally. He nodded subtly, not moving his visor from your face.

“And this,” He said, gesturing to the Beskar he donned. “Is all I know. This is the Way,”

You looked down, swinging your legs back and forth for lack of what to do. You wanted to know more—you always wanted to know more about Mando, that was a given. But right now, you wanted to ask him everything.

“Is that why you stopped coming here?” The words trickled from your lips pitifully, but you had no choice but to accept that you’d spoken them.

Mando was silent for a few moments, but he made no indication of looking away from you. You wondered if, beneath the helmet, he was actually looking at you. Maybe he was zoning out, or was focused on the wall behind your head instead.

“I feared continuing to visit you would become a habit I could no longer break,”

There it was—that warmth. It erupted within your gut, winding its way up your spine and neck, circling down your limbs and to the spot between your legs that you always chose to ignore. You tensed up immediately, forgetting about the whiskey bottle between your thighs as the sensation only increased the wobble of your upper thighs.

“Like you said,” Mando continued, and you could have sworn that his voice sounded strained. Like he was holding back, like his body was almost forcing him to stay quiet. He stood suddenly, causing a small gasp to leave your lips involuntarily, as he strode forward to slot himself partially between your legs. “Loneliness is a disease,”

You went jelloid when a hesitant hand was placed on your thigh—

Stars, it’s been a while.

You were slowly beginning to unwind, as Mando placed his other hand on the opposing thigh, slotting himself further between your legs. As much as you wanted to speed this up, to feel skin touch skin, you didn’t know if that was actually possible for the Mandalorian.

“M-Mando,” You stuttered out, but it only made his grip tighten around your plump skin. You instinctively raised your hands to his chest, feeling the smoothness of his Beskar. “Just— wait,” You managed out, despite all of your senses not wanting him to stop what he was doing. His visor shot to your face quickly and his hands fluttered away from your thighs.

You wanted to cry— that’s not what you’d meant—

You swiped your hands across his Beskar chest plate, reaching down for his large forearms. You heard the breath hitch in the back of his throat, as a small moan escaped his modulator.

You placed his arms back on your legs slowly, but he still looked on his guard, wondering what you had to say.

“Loneliness is a disease,” You spluttered out. Your cheeks were flushed a neon red, and you could feel the rapid heartbeat erupting from beneath your ribs. “It’s— overwhelming,”

When he didn’t move or speak, you wanted to kick yourself. Had you done it again? Revealed something that was too much and reduced yourself to a vulnerable mess? For a moment, you thought Mando could smell the weakness within you, but even you didn’t realise you’d unwind this fast at the most subtle of touches from the Mandalorian.

You froze when he raised a gloved hand to pinch your chin. His thumb was firm but gentle, his other fingers curled just beneath your jaw, and his stare was unwavering.

Stars, your whole body throbbed at his touch. You wanted more, but you also didn’t want it to end as quickly as it had started, and you’d meant what you’d said— overwhelming. It was a red, hot heat that you hadn’t felt in years, it was something that you’d have to get used to again, and from the fumbling touches that Mando gave you, you felt he might be in the same boat.

His thumb slowly made its way to your mouth, gliding back and forth over your bottom lip. You were positively glowing, feeling the intimate touch of the hunter for the first time after what seemed like months of fantasy—

You’d had dreams of him, falling asleep to the image of his helmet or the way he slumped on your stool every so often, so desperate to see what lay beneath his armour.

“You’re overwhelmed?” He needlessly questioned. The way his voice trickled all over you was enough to make your body surge towards his once more. You had to stop yourself from reaching for his waistband, overcome with a hunger that you hadn’t been expecting. “It’s okay. We have time,”

With five simple words you could have collapsed to the floor right there. All too soon, his touch vanished from your skin. You leant forward has he removed himself from you, stepping back while you tried desperately to get his touch back.

The whiskey bottle between your legs slipped suddenly, toppling from its place between your thighs as you realised you’d started to open your legs wider where he’d stood between your hips. You grappled at air to try and stop it falling, but it fell from the desk—

Right into a skilful gloved hand. Mando gripped the bottle with a ferocity that you knew he’d wanted to grip you with, before stepping forward once more. He slotted the bottle between your thighs once more, but right in the nook of your upper thighs—

You shivered uncontrollably as both hands came to cradle your thighs, pushing them together to keep the bottle in place.

You watched, defeated, as he picked up his satchel from the floor and slung it over his shoulder, staring at you atop the desk when he was ready to leave.

“If I see you drinking with Karga again, I won’t be as gentle,” Despite his efforts to keep his voice strong, you heard the breathy way he spoke.

It filled you with a confidence that had disappeared as soon as he’d first placed the bottle back between your legs.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” You challenged. You couldn’t stop yourself from sending a smirk his way, and it had the desired effect—

Mando dropped his helmet to the floor as the most subtle of groans escaped his lips. He swivelled and turned, heading for the door immediately afterwards.

He opened it, letting in the cold Nevarro air. You watched as he slinked out of the door, pulling it shut from the outside—

And then there was silence. You breathed out a shaky breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding, grabbing the whiskey and taking a large gulp as you tried to regain your composure fully.

You went to bed that night utterly elated, his chrome visor appearing behind your eyes all the same.

Feel free to send things to my ask box or message me!

[eggtoasties]

Pairing: Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura

Rating + Notes: M for mentions/implied references of sexual assault

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Selfishly, he thinks that if he could shoulder the burden of her suffering and sync his heart with hers, he would.

“Tch. You’re a shinobi, why are you so soft? Sasuke scoffed.

Sakura whipped her head up towards him from her hunched position.

“You have no idea what I have been through,” she seethed. Clenching her fists tightly, she said, “Despite everything. I have chosen to stay soft,” she spat. She closed her eyes, trying to even out her breathing while fine tremors wracked her body. Light tendrils of electricity seemed to dance across the surface of her skin, her hair rising with static shock. Her chakra was volatile and seeping from every pore—she radiated with energy and tightly controlled killing intent.

“Woah, woah, Sakura-chan,” Naruto said placatingly, raising two hands up. “Teme didn’t mean anything by it—"

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about,” she glared.

Kakashi leaned forward on his haunches. He knew tensions were bound to rise at some point; he was just surprised that it was Sakura. He glanced at her. She was hunched over, knees drawn up to her chin, arms cradling her body towards the warmth of the fire. Kakashi watched as the flames drew shadows across her tanned skin, watched as the reflection danced in her eyes.

Sasuke was standing over her to her left, hand cocked on his hip glaring at a dirt patch next to Sakura and Naruto was sitting in front of her across the fire. They had been reinstated as a team for the past two months and while she was always professional, they didn’t fit together like they once did.

.

After the Great Shinobi War, there was a renaissance period during the unprecedented peace time. Art, music, technology, and trade flourished with the lull in military activity. Earth country in particular grew wealthy with the advancements in technology. Already prosperous due to its multitude of gold and silver mines, with the electronic boom, copper, lithium, and palladium’s demand exponentially skyrocketed as technology for everyday use—not just military use—became the norm.

“Your mission is to assassinate a lord in a remote estate in the Land of Earth,” Tsunade explained to Team 7.

Team 7 stood in front of their Hokage’s heavy wood desk. Kakashi was hunched over as usual, lackadaisically taking in the mission details while absentmindedly watching the rest of his team. Naruto was, as always, excited to be sent on a mission although his optimism had tempered a bit after the war. To Naruto’s left stood Sasuke. Standing stiffly, he scowled lightly at his blonde teammate’s excited chatter and puffed a sigh as his and Tsunade’s glares did nothing to silence his ramblings. Off to the side stood Sakura. She held her left elbow with her right hand and stared ahead at Tsunade, ignoring her two teammate’s bickering. She watched her mentor valiantly try and explain the rest of the mission and hardly cracked a smile when Tsunade sent a paperweight hurtling Naruto’s way.

Once regaining everyone’s attention, Tsunade continued with the mission details.

“Using the natural resources on his estate, the lord used the profits to create his own tech company. With the raw materials at his disposal, he bought machinery and vertically integrated his company—” she narrowed her eyes at Naruto who started to stare out the window.

"Oi, brat! You better take notes!” she shouted, breaking him out of his daydreams. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as Tsunade continued.

“Basically,” she said, rolling her eyes, “he owns the natural resources, the machinery, and the man power for every step of the manufacturing process and has a bunch of legal whatever to his product so he’s become richer than ever,” the Hokage waved her hands absentmindedly.

Although the post war boom was financially beneficial for the Five Great Nations, smaller nations had not seen much of a difference in their standards of living. The major nations focused on establishing open trade routes and flows of information between themselves and failed to include smaller countries at the discussion table. Thus, a great migration took place. While civilians and shinobi alike travelled the elemental nations more freely due to the decrease in tensions with the airs of truce and allyship, many single women from smaller villages migrated to the great nations for work and better opportunities.

Many of whom ended up on the Earth lord’s estate, working along the assembly line. The position seemed generous enough: lodging was provided in dormitory like-housing and food was also provided in a mess hall. The hours were long, but they worked five days a week.

Tsunade unfurled a detailed map on her desk and Team 7 gathered around, committing the details to memory. The estate was strategically built with a mountain as a protective shield at the rear while a wide expanse of rolling green fields surrounding the estate ensured that potential enemies had no place to hide. It was as expansive as it was beautiful.

Boasting acres of greenery, Sakura imagined the smell of wild grass and flowers mingling with fertile soil. The fertility of the region would mean the grounds were likely lush with hearty wildflowers and medicinal herbs. The meadows at the base of the mountain would be plentiful and the mountain breeze would circulate cool, crisp air. Especially for those seeking a quiet life away from busy cityscapes, Sakura could imagine that the lord’s estate seemed to provide a quiet haven with an idyllic backdrop.

Continuing on with the report, Tsunade relayed that the Tsuchikage had received several reports from the workers’ family and friends that something was amiss. Listening to witness accounts and poring over letters, Earth’s intelligence confirmed suspicions although the letters never disclosed specifics.

The Tsuchikage had sent a discreet reconnaissance force to infiltrate and observe the ongoings of the estate. Despite the beautiful scenery, life at the estate was anything but. The mission report detailed that the lord took advantage of many of the women and held them hostage by threatening to blacklist them and their families. Guards patrolled the area constantly, on high alert for any worker who might slip out into the night to disclose company secrets. The report noted only women from outside Earth were permitted as workers to decrease the likelihood of suspicious family or friends coming to the estate and to lower the success of an unlikely escape.

Imploring the Hokage, the Tsuchikage asked that the assassination of the lord be kept discreet. Making his death appear as an accident was of the utmost importance—and Sakura’s primary duty. Following the lord’s death, the estate and its holdings would be turned over to the state as the lord had no next of kin. The mission would be lucrative for the Tsuchikage, and the women would be free to go if they wished.

What went unsaid was that the mission would ensure that the state would not be held accountable for providing mental or physical aid to the victims of the lord. When Earth shinobi arrive and explain that the guards and workers will be reevaluated, some women, the Tsuchikage reasoned, would expose the lord and guards who abused their powers. The state would clean up the guards, instate new ones and gain the thanks and appreciation of the women workers.

It made Sakura sick.

.

A year after the war and the new increase in trade, information, and people were normal aspects of daily life. Shinobi immediately began rehabilitation post-war and the program, headed by Sakura, reported positive effects. Post-war life was hard for shinobi who had become accustomed to a state of hyper-awareness during combat—settling into the monotony of peacetime, especially for strictly combative shinobi, had been difficult. For the past year Naruto and Sasuke had found their rhythm again, falling into easy friendship that was built on a foundation of begrudging respect although it was masked with bickering, sparring, and petty annoyances. Kakashi easily meshed back into their dynamic.  

Immediately following the war, Sakura was extremely busy with the administrative and legal overhaul of the shinobi system. Reviewing outdated protocols, researching alternatives, and creating new proposals, she had not rekindled her bonds with Team 7 as the others did. What little free time she had, she spent it quietly with Sai and the rest of her graduating class.

Team 7 had been reinstated a few months prior to the one year war anniversary. They were designated as a specialty unit—their collective powers largely unneeded due to the peacetime and the necessity of Sakura’s medical and legal acumen in village proceedings—but Naruto and Kakashi insisted. While suspicions around Sasuke’s loyalty lingered, the rest of Team 7 acted as a power and emotional safeguard.

During missions, Naruto seemed to fall back to their genin days. He would purposefully annoy Sasuke and Sasuke would pretend to be irritated back. They would bicker and banter with Kakashi feigning tiredness, but the crinkle in his eyes said otherwise. Sakura would be quiet. Naruto would try and rope her in with banter and shenanigans, but remained aloof, side stepping his attempts.

For her, it wasn’t like being placed on a temporary assignment with an established team where their deep trust reflected in the easiness of their movements. With Team 7, she felt perpetually on edge. She trusted their power and their commitment to each other, but she felt weary of Sasuke. She felt a lingering bitterness towards Kakashi. Naruto hurt to look at sometimes.

Sasuke noticed. For someone who was constantly observing, hyper aware of every flinch and averted eye he had inspired throughout the years, it was hard not to. Providing her comfort the only way he knew how, he gave her space. From the years as a missing-nin, the crimes he had committed, and the genjutsu he had put her under at the end of the war left her understandably weary.

As the team was reinstated, he tried talking. As much as he was able to. He would nod to her when she healed him, smirk at her when she pulverized an enemy, and raise an eyebrow when she flirted information out of a target. He’d order tempura at restaurants so she could have it as a side and he’d give her the last dango off his skewer saying he didn’t like sweets.

She had changed a lot from the memory he had of her before leaving the village. The war, he figured, changed a lot of people. She was always so loud and earnest in her feelings for him—for anyone really. And while she still had fire within her—from the way she’d chastise Naruto for still utilizing his sexy-no-jutsu or slap the back of their heads when they got unnecessarily injured and tried to hide it from her, she was guarded.

Perhaps, Sasuke thought, this was just her adult self. War veteran, war hero, director of the hospital, best medic in all the nations, one of the most in demand shinobi, her accolades as Konoha’s golden girl went on forever.

But, he thought back to when he uncharacteristically joined Naruto for a night out with the rest of their graduating class. He had seen her across the bar. She was laughing. Her face exuded mirth, shoulders and head thrown back, hair wild and loose. She had her hand on Shikamaru’s shoulder and then giggled into his neck as he shot her a grin. He watched as Tenten said something and Sakura slapped the table in boisterous laughter. She had never shown this side of herself to him—to Team 7. So he turned back and left for home.

.

Team 7 arrived at night.

Sakura could have completed it as a solo mission, but Tsunade wanted Team 7 to be able to seamlessly work together during missions. Even if the team was grossly over powered for the task at hand, the task itself was hardly the primary objective.

Sasuke would enter the lord’s bedroom with Sakura, cloaking them both in a genjutsu. Kakashi would watch from afar and notify them of any irregular guard movements through the comms device, and Naruto would serve as a distraction if things went awry.

Sakura and Sasuke entered the lord’s estate easily. They cast no shadow against the black and white marble tiles, and the quiet patter of their footsteps was masked under the genjutsu. As they entered the lord’s bedroom, they ignored the ostentatious displays of wealth—fur rugs covering the expanse of the room, ornate candelabras and chandeliers gilded with gold and encrusted with jewels—and went straight to the bed. Next to the sleeping lord, was a young woman holding herself in a fetal position, twitching in her sleep. Sakura quickly and untraceably killed the lord with a precise rush of chakra before tending to the young woman. Standing idly while Sakura completed the mission, Sasuke noticed the hardness of her eyes and the rigidity of her shoulders. Sakura’s glove clad hands were steady as they glowed green and she was done as quickly as she started. Locking eyes with Sasuke and curtly nodding, they left out the window.

.

They made camp once they breached Konoha’s borders. Several kilometers inwards, they settled for the night. Sakura was silent—not unusual for her, but her movements were stiff and mechanical as she put down her pack and built the fire.

Naruto and Kakashi came back with food they had caught. She ate her portion with glazed eyes, staring into the fire. She bit into the gamey meat without tasting it.

Her hands felt cold even as she held them to the camp fire and felt a heavy emptiness at her chest that permeated throughout her body. She thought of the Tsuchikage and Hokage’s actions robbing a form of justice away from the victims of the lord. Closing her eyes, she circled her arms around her shins and bowed her head to relieve some of the tension in her neck. Cradling herself, she opened her eyes to soften her gaze downwards.

Her toes were painted a light blue—Ino had insisted that it was the it color of the spring season and it would make her tan pop. Forehead, she had said seriously. For all the shit you did with shinobi and mental health you need to take care of yourself too. Sakura counted the pebbles in the dirt—one to ten, just as Ino had done for her while she painted her nails—and tracked the steady march of beetles over twigs and stones.

She saw splotches of dirt turn dark with moisture and absentmindedly realized she was crying.

She felt Sasuke’s disapproval as much as she heard it—straight to the chest, electricity and fire—and seethed at Naruto’s immediate defense. Trapped in the orbit of two celestial bodies—two gods—she wanted nothing more to break their trajectory towards her and suspend their collision.

“Have you ever felt like your body wasn’t your own,” she said. “That someone had ripped your soul from its shell and you could do nothing but watch.” Sakura’s eyes were blank and unseeing as her tears made trails down her cheeks.

Kakashi went rigid and Sasuke and Naruto mirrored faces of confusion. Sakura exhaled and continued, voice steady and clear. “Konoha and Iwagakure know about—have known about the lord for months and the only thing they care about is the financial windfall,” she said angrily. “Iwa won’t consider those women citizens and will just push them to go back to their original villages. Even if some of them disclose what the lord did to them—what is anyone going to do?” she questioned angrily. Voice rising she snarled, “What the fuck is Iwagakure going to do? Konoha?”

Surprised at the uncharacteristic outburst, her three teammates listened to her quietly. Cataloguing her rage and thinking over the implications their interference, the men of Team 7 considered her words.

Silence hanging over the air, Sakura began again. “How are those women supposed to reconcile the fact that they were just a thing to that fucking lord?” she spit out. “That he can act upon them and that’s where their value or depth ends?” No one had an answer for her. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being torn apart and my cells feel like they separate and I can feel my pulse in my fingertips,” she choked out, shoulders heaving. “What the fuck am I supposed to do then?”

Sasuke’s mouth opened slightly then clenched it shut. He saw red.

Kakashi stared blankly at Sakura. Feeling exhausted by the information, his shoulders drooped. The heavy burden of survival. He felt the prickly heat of guilt at the back of his neck and his eyes fell to Sakura’s pack on the ground next to her, unable to look her in the face. The dawning realization that he had never noticed anything different with her made him feel every year of his age.

He started to apologize. To say he wish he had been there for her more, that he should have tried to get her to spend more time with the three of them, that he should have said something about her pulling away from the team—that he should have known better.

“Sakura, I—”

“Don’t make this about you.”

Misplaced and unfounded guilt didn’t matter. To her, she was the student he had discarded and continued to ignore for years.

He hunched impossibly more.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Naruto said softly.

“Because I didn’t want to then.”

“I thought we were family?”

She scoffed, “Why?”

“We’re together again! Sasuke’s come back to us!”

“He came back to you. You never asked if I even wanted him here.” Sasuke jerked back as if she had hit him. His face remained stonily still despite the searing pain in his chest.

Looking at Sasuke she said, “I don’t care that you’re back. I’m glad you feel safe or that you have a home again, or whatever you feel. But you did shit to me that I will never forgive.”

“Tch, so we aren’t friends anymore?”

“Since when were we ever.”

It was fair, he reasoned. Although he was friendlier with Sakura than anyone else besides Naruto or Kakashi, his outward actions or words didn’t denote that he felt any particular fondness for her. Not enough to make up for all the things he had done to her. His throat closed and his eyes stung and not from overuse of his Sharingan.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” he blurted out and immediately regretted it.

“Who was it Sakura-chan? I’ll beat ‘em up—I-I’ll kill them!” Naruto raged.

“You think I couldn’t if I wanted to?” Sakura said wearily.

A cold breeze rustled through the forest, bringing with it the scent of moss and pine. For what seemed like a millennia, Team 7 was suspended in stillness. Gray eyes locked onto a well-worn pack, cerulean grounded himself in the limitless indigo sky, and red irises drowned in pink.

“I’m sorry,” Sasuke interrupted the silence. “I didn’t mean it that way. Or that you're weak," he glanced at her hunched form. "I’m sorry.”

.

Their journey back to Konoha was quiet. For once, Naruto was at a loss for words. Sasuke watched from the rear of their diamond position as Naruto snuck glances at Sakura to his left, but she never wavered. After the previous night, her face had been an impenetrable porcelain mask.

She had told them then, “We cry and we cope and we continue.” Her eyes had found Kakashi’s and he held them for a long minute before shifting his gaze uncomfortably towards the ground.

After the mission debrief, Sakura hung back to go over documents with Tsunade as the rest of Team 7 parted ways. Kakashi had immediately dispersed which left Naruto and Sasuke idly walking the packed dirt roads of the village.

Sea glass on twinkling wind chimes glinted green and blue as Sasuke and Naruto walked past vendor stalls. The warm breeze carried scents of fried food and sweets and the duo ignored the glances of awe and apprehension thrown their way.

Still mulling over the events of the previous night, Sasuke clenched his hands into fists. Across the street, sitting underneath the shade of a tree, Sai was painting the landscape around him. Pointing towards their other teammate, Naruto nudged Sasuke towards his direction.

Walking up the grassy hill towards Sai, Naruto sent him a halfhearted wave and tried to figure out how to ask Sai if he knew. If he knew what Sakura had been going through and how they could reel her back into Team 7. He rubbed the back of his head in frustration and fisted at the roots of his hair. Opening and closing his mouth several times while growing agitated, his eyes darted towards Sasuke then back to Sai as he struggled.

“Did Ugly finally tell you?” Sai asked, intently studying his painting. “And could you two move—you’re blocking my view.”

Finally finding his voice, Naruto exclaimed “We’ve been her teammates for years.”

“And yet she chose not to tell you,” Sai replied evenly.

“But w-why?” Naruto spluttered disbelievingly. “Why would she keep this a secret from us?”

“Because she did not think you could offer her any emotional comfort.”

Quietly, Naruto murmured, “Has she at least told Ino?”

Sasuke stared down at Sai. He thought he was aloof and detached with brief moments of social understanding, unfalteringly deadpan but unwaveringly steadfast. Sasuke and Sai had shared only a handful of greetings and exchanges, mostly nonverbal despite Naruto and Sai’s efforts and provocations. Sasuke had found his replacement irritating in his quiet observations and noted the way he and Sakura tended to gravitate towards each other during missions with thinly veiled contempt.

“The rest of your graduating class is aware.”

“How did I not know about this!?”

“She had you sent away on a mission when Tsunade informed them of her temporary release of duties.”

“Well, what about me?” Sasuke finally asked, feigning nonchalance despite his racing heartbeat.

“You were never a consideration.”

Sasuke jerked his head to the side and clenched his jaw, face settling into a scowl. He had wondered if with time, Sakura would look at him the way she used to when they were younger. Actually, he amended, he didn’t need for her to look at him with bright eyed adoration, cheeks flushing at any attention. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t need furtive glances thrown his way or delicately packed bento boxes. He wanted her acceptance—acknowledgement even, would have sufficed.

“What will you do now, Dickless?” Sai questioned.

“I’m gonna go to Tsunade baa-chan and force her to do something about this!”

“But did you ask Sakura what she wanted?”

“Huh?”

“Tch, dobe. You don’t even know what Sakura wants. She didn’t tell you because it’s just like you to do whatever your first thought is.”

“Precisely.” Packing away his supplies and shutting his sketchbook, Sai rose from his seated position. “Well,” he said with a fake smile, “this was fun.”

He watched as Naruto scrunched his face deep in thought and noted the quiet anger rolling off of Sasuke in waves. “I know this may be hard for you two,” Sai said cheerily, beginning to walk away, “but try not to impose yourselves further on the hag.” With one last wave, Sai walked leisurely back to the main road.

.

He had come to her apartment in the middle of the night. He had seen her open balcony, cream curtains billowing in the breeze, and hopped onto the ledge. Before he could wonder if he should have knocked on the front door, Sakura was in front of him.

“What.” She asked

He swallowed. His hands felt clammy.

“I’m sorry. For everything. I know it doesn’t mean much. But I mean it.”

She nodded. She went back into her apartment and left the glass door open, inviting him in. Shutting the door behind him and taking off his sandals, he looked around her living room. It was relatively spacious for just herself, light wood floors and neutral décor. Her side tables and bookshelves were crammed and overflowing with medical tomes and scrolls. Kunai and various weapons were littered on top of her coffee table along with notes and ink wells. Her living room opened up to a modest kitchen, where she currently stood towards the kettle.

“Do you want tea?” she asked, lifting two boxes to choose from.

Her hair was pulled into a braid down her back and she was wearing pajamas—clearly intending to sleep soon. He nodded at the box at her right and she took out two packets. Unsure of what to do, he hovered next to her coffee table until she came to sit at one end of the couch, sweeping a hand towards the armchair to the side and the other end of the couch.

He tentatively sat at the opposite end and clasped his hands in his lap. He nodded at the mug she handed him and stared into its contents. He felt a fever rush to his brain and felt a heavy cold settle in his bones as he attempted to parse through his emotions—sorrow, rage, guilt, shame, yearning. He could hardly name them for what they were, each overwhelming him like a tsunami wave, unrelenting and overlapping until all he felt was hurt ricocheting off his ribs and reverberating against his lungs.

“I’m sorry,” he bit out awkwardly. He intently analyzed her face and wondered why for all the things he felt, for all the things he wish he could articulate, all he could ever do was apologize. She sighed into her mug, the tendrils of steam making the fine hairs framing her face stick to her skin.

"I’ve forgiven you even when I don’t fucking want to—when my brain screams not to." With another deep exhale she rests her head on the cushions behind her and stares up at her ceiling.

“I’m sorry it happened,” he says quietly, fingers playing with the string of the teabag.

It’s something, Sasuke thinks to himself. They’re talking. For the first time, maybe ever. And he lets that little flicker of hope consume him. That maybe they can continue to talk. He’ll let her in, he’ll be vulnerable, he’ll apologize if she’ll just keep talking to him.

.

Sasuke and Naruto stood next to each other in the early morning quiet and unsure, facing the village gates. Kakashi was behind them, hands deep in his pockets, hunched over as if trying to make himself smaller. Looking at Naruto, the village to his back, Sakura watched as he fidgeted in uncharacteristic silence.

Surprisingly, it was Kakashi who began to speak. Raising his eyes towards Sakura, he began to apologize.

It had been weeks since Sasuke had shared tea with Sakura, talking through the years he had missed, actually learning who she was as a person. During that night, he was able to indulge in the fantasies he had been harboring for months—the desire to talk to someone like family—to someone who is family. To divulge in past memories and future hopes. The start of sealing the cracks he had left and wedged open.

But now, he watches as she grips Naruto in a tight hug, whispering fiercely into his ear as he shakes in her arms. She shares sweet goodbyes with her friends who look at her with pride and tell her to bend the world to her will because they’ll always be waiting. A curt nod and a squeeze of the forearm and Sasuke watches her back and wonders if her heart shattered the same way when he had left her all those years ago.

At the time, she had told him that she would go with him—that she would shoulder his pain if she could. But now? He supposes this is payment for all the times he ripped her heart from her chest. It would have been merciful, he thinks, if she could have knocked him out unconscious so he didn’t have to be the one to watch her back as she became a distant pinprick in the horizon.

[hisunshiine]

—trade secrets |myg|

⟢ pairing: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader 

⟢ word count: 3.4k 

⟢ genre + warnings: coworkers to lovers au || nsfw 18+ some angast, smut, & fluff: 𝘴𝘮𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧™️; explicit sex: kissing, oral f. receiving, fingering, spanking, unprotected vaginal penetration, creampie, semi-public sex (office, bathroom)  

⟢ summary: you’ve been pining over your boss forever, but when you and he finally cross that line, it’s not exactly all hearts and rainbows. 

��� authors note: originally posted to twitter, i hope you enjoy!

Sat at your desk, you shuffled the papers neatly in order to staple them at the top left hand corner. The finished report was for the 2:30 PM meeting, and your boss would be needing it by 1 PM to review it for his presentation. Out of all of the assistants for the department, he trusted you the most. After several years of working for the company, you were basically Min Yoongi’s personal assistant, despite there being 3 of you to serve the 3 project managers. 

This had been a foreign concept when you had first joined the company, used to being assigned to a specific manager at your old job, but you enjoyed this set up so much more. It allowed you to help each other handle all of the tasks as a group, being more efficient. It also helped with having days off, without it impacting work since there were still 2 assistants who knew what was going on no matter what projects were being handled. But for Min Yoongi, you were his favorite. 

Of course, out of the other 2 project managers, Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok, you felt like Yoongi was your favorite too. Ever since starting, you had just gravitated towards him. He was the complete opposite of his coworkers, who were both loud and rambunctious. This didn’t mean Yoongi didn’t also get loud, on the contrary, he could definitely raise his voice, but he was typically calm and quiet, often sitting back and listening before speaking. 

You on the other hand, were definitely more like Jimin and Hoseok. You supposed this was why you liked Yoongi so much. He balanced out your wild nature, the calming flower to settle your fluttering butterfly wings on and just… rest. Not that he knew any of this. Yoongi was blind to the way that you pined after him.

“Y/N, do you have that report ready?” Yoongi’s voice, a honeyed, low sound reverberated in the space above your head, and you looked up, startled. So caught up in the daydream that always took over when you were fresh from the carbload of lunch, you felt yourself heat up as the star of the very daydream held his calloused hand out to you.

“Oh, y-yes, Yoongi-ssi, right here.”

You gathered up the report you had recently stapled and placed it in his waiting hand as he cleared his throat, nimble fingers straightening his tie. How one subtle movement could send your body into overdrive made no sense to you, but his eye contact conveyed so much more than just a look. It filled you with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer temperatures.

“Thank you… I’ll get you when it’s time for the meeting.” His free hand lightly brushed your forearm, lingering, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his touch, a fire spreading across your body.

The meeting went off without a hitch, as you knew it would, and slowly you packed up the conference room of the equipment that had been used for the presentation. As the assistant to the project managers, you were privy to all the plans, and knew that you would be working non-stop the next few weeks to help get everything done for the managers. Their project was approved by their CEO, and you knew starting tomorrow, it would be all engines go.

Pushing the cart with the projector and company laptop back out into the hallway, you watched as the managers walked off ahead of you, headed to their separate offices—located next to each other—as you wheeled the tech cart back to the IT wing.

“Thank you so much Jungkook!” You smiled at your best friend of 8 years, who had helped you and one of the other assistants, set up the presentation slides on the new system Jimin had wanted to utilize. A tall, muscular nerd, (who also happened to be dating the other said assistant) your best friend pushed his glasses a little higher up his nose as he took the cart from you.

“Not a problem, babe. Hey.. what did Yoongi think of your skirt?” He whispered, winking at you.

“He didn’t even bat an eye. It’s pointless, Kook. He’s never gonna notice me.” You sigh, bending at the waist to lean against his desk. Your elbows braced your weight as you wiggled your hips.

“Well maybe if you did this little dance for him, he would.”

You laugh.

“No way, so I can get sent to HR for sexual harassment training? Please. That retraining video is a snooze fest.” You continue swaying side to side, more so to stretch out the kink in your lower back from sitting so long working on the presentation than anything, when Jungkook’s eyes grow impossibly bigger. He said nothing though; you assumed he’s reacting to your words about the harassment video. That is, until a voice cut through the silence.

“Y/N, u-uhm.. When you’re done with IT, can you—actually, I can, uhm, I can handle it myself.”

You had just managed to take in the sight of a shocked Min Yoongi, eyes focused on your ass as you put it on display, before he was whirling from the room, his pale porcelain skin a blotchy red.

Jungkook’s laughter cut through the embarrassed silence as you stand up, hands covering your face as you cringe internally at what had just happened. Leaving Jungkook’s office a few minutes later, you couldn’t help but smile a little bit through the mortification at the way Yoongi stuttered as he stared at your ass.

-

“Y/N, can you email me over the notes from the meeting yesterday?” 

Yoongi paused on his way out of the office at your desk, several days after the mishap in Jungkook’s IT department. He hadn’t appeared to be affected when you had seen him back on your side of the building not even 10 minutes after the incident, and had seemed rather nonplussed once you had made it back to your desk and began sorting through your tasks. Now that several days had passed, you had also gone back to acting normal. If normal consisted of the secret pining over your boss and complaining to your best friend and his girlfriend at happy hour that yet again another ploy to catch Yoongi’s eye had failed. 

“I’ll have the info emailed over to you now.”

“Thanks; I’m headed out to grab lunch, do you want anything?”

You smiled at him, shaking your head no. 

“I brought something to eat, but thank you Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi began to walk away towards the elevators when he stopped and turned to face you.

“Can you stay late tonight? We have our first deadline for the project and the other two girls can’t stay.” 

You felt your heart—the very one in your chest that had just started to beat faster—slow it’s rate. He had asked the other girls first, and you felt disappointment at being a last minute ask. You were confused at first as to why the other girls couldn’t stay, until you remembered that there were only two of you today anyways; the third being Jungkook’s girlfriend, and they were gone on a “baecation” to Jeju Island for the weekend.

“No problem, boss. Um, actually, can I change my mind about lunch then? I can save this for dinner.”

He nodded and you texted him your order as he walked off.

-

Time seemed to be moving so slowly, but it was already close to 11 PM. The finishing touches on the first assignment were nearly completed, and if anyone were to walk into his office, they would be able to see that it indeed appeared as if work had been happening. Your lunch turned dinner had been eaten around 6, and Yoongi had ordered takeout around 9, of which empty containers now lay abandoned on surfaces, wooden chopsticks haphazardly positioned in them. 

Papers were strewn along the mahogany desk, laid on the floor as well, and you were ready to be done with this task. Leaning over Yoongi’s shoulder, your eyes were narrow as you scanned the final document for mistakes. You braced yourself with your right forearm, left hand on the back of his computer chair. 

This close to him, you could smell his cologne, a deep musk scent with hints of a sweet vanilla like essence. His hair, ruffled by his hands so many times, looked fucked out with sprouts sticking each way. Your eyes drifted to those hands, handling the mouse and resting on the keyboard, and you licked your lips slowly. 

Everything about him was arousing you at this hour, and you wished that he would take notice of the way your blouse had appeared to unbutton more and more as time had crept by tonight. If he would just turn his head slightly to you... the way you were leaning had your breasts dangerously close to making an appearance. Your thoughts of how hot it would be for him to take you on this desk had your arousal leaking, your panties embarrassingly wet as they clung to your skin.

Letting out an intentionally soft sigh, you adjust your hand on the edge of his desk and form your lips to ask a random made up question, anything to get him to look at you, when he does exactly as you had hoped. His face, close to yours, turns to speak, but the words die in his throat as he takes you in. 

“Yoongi?” Your voice is soft, and you end his name with a bite to your bottom lip, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You take a deep breath, knowing how your chest must look from his angle, hoping that the rise and fall would push them forward just the right amount.   

“You..” he clears his throat, eyes on your cleavage shamelessly, “—do you know what you do to me when you tease me like this?”

His eyes snap to yours, pulling a startled gasp from your throat and you stutter a response.

“T-Tease you? I—” Yoongi turned in his chair and his fingers gripped your waist as you stood abruptly.

“Yes.” 

That one word was uttered with a growl before he pulled your lips to his. The kiss was sloppy, a mess of lips fervently moving as tongues sought out the taste of each other. You were on fire, his grip pulling you down onto his lap so that you straddled him. His length strained against his pants, the feel of it twitching in time to your moans against your core. You grinded against him as your lips traveled to his neck, and he tilted his head to give you better access. 

“Do you know—fuck—just how badly you drive me crazy. These skirts, unbuttoned shirts, that fucking display in IT the other day..” his low voice panting out that you had successfully gotten to him. You pulled back, lips glossy and pupils dilated, taking in the red across his cheeks.

“That was an accident, I wasn’t trying to tease you then.”

“Just all the other times.” His eyes glinted.

“I..”

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just asked.”

He leaned in again, arms wrapped around you as he connected your lips again. You knew you had to be messing up his pants, but neither of you seemed to care. He groaned, lifting you to stand. 

“I need to be inside of you..” He flipped you, so you faced the desk and folded you at the waist. Chest to the desk, he lifted your skirt up. “I’m over you teasing me, babe. Your turn.”

Yoongi eyed your clothed core, taking note of the wetness that clung to it, running his index finger along your slit until he found your swollen nub. Pressing on it, he traced circles, causing you to squirm. He loved seeing you like this, finally, after all the wet dreams of you, he had you like this: a sopping mess on his desk, whining for more.

He kneels, fingers gripping the edge of your panties and in a swift motion he exposes you.

“Fuck, babe, I can’t wait to fill this cunt...”

You flinch as his warm tongue glides from clit to opening, tasting you, leaving you with an unsuspecting smack to your asscheek. You wiggle, more turned on then you imagined you could be and when he groans in appreciation, you clench, needy.

“Please Yoongi, p-please fuck me.”

You hear him stand and undo his pants, whine when he dips two fingers into you and begins to fuck you with them.

“Not what I want,” you complain like the brat you are, and he chuckles darkly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be glad I prepped you.” He scissors his fingers, stretching you as your natural lubricant slickens his fingers. The sound of finger fucking would usually make you blush, but you’re too aroused by the naughtiness of it. Your boss, knuckle deep into your throbbing cunt, his handprint on your ass. 

He spits, and you hear his left hand slide up and down his hardened shaft, the sound intertwined with the squelching between your legs. 

“Fuck me, p-please,” you’re begging now, hands gripping the edge of the desk, and you push back into him when you feel the head of his cock line up with your opening.

“Patience, baby.” Yoongi dips just the tip in, shallow fucking you until you’re practically crying from the taunting stimulation.

“Yoongi, I swear to G—oh!”

Yoongi thrusts into you, and your walls suck him in, sliding him in until he bottoms out, his pelvis snug to your ass, and he groans loudly. His hands knead at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can inch deeper, watching the way you wrap around him so nicely, like you were made to take his cock. He pulls out slowly before slamming his hips back into you, enjoying the way you mewl from his cock kissing your cervix. 

It’s like Yoongi transforms into a feral animal, one stroke inside of you and he’s laying on your back, arms wrapping around you to clutch at your breasts as he pistons his hips, fucking into you with all of the strength his ex-basketball playing thighs carry. You feel him bite your back, your shirt softening the blow, but you clench regardless.

“D-Do that again, sweetheart, fuck that felt so good..”

You clench repeatedly, tightening your grip on him, and he feels so good inside of you, your toes are curling, loud exhalations with every thrust; you’re so close.

“Where, uh, where can I—I’m gonna—”

“Inside me, Yoongi, fuck, fill me up, please Daddy,  I want to be full of you..”

He can feel your legs trembling, but Yoongi wants you to break first.

“Cum on my cock, baby.” Yoongi’s hand drops from your chest and it takes only a few figure eights of his finger on your cllit and you’re bursting, white behind your eyelids as you squeeze them shut. Your body tremors, euphoric sensations traveling to every inch of your body as your muscles spaz, and he’s filling you, his thick seed spurting out and overflowing from your swollen core, running down both of your thighs.

-

You and Yoongi ended up back at his place that night, fucking until Saturday afternoon. Sunday night, you checked your phone and saw a text from Yoongi.

[Yoongi-ssi]

Y/N, please don’t think I didn’t enjoy myself… but it can’t happen again. I’m sorry.

You sat there, staring at your phone rereading the message over and over. He was… rejecting you? You hadn’t even voiced to him your feelings. It wasn’t just sexual attraction to him, but after these years with him, you couldn’t help but to have fallen for him. And now that you’d had him, you were head over heels in love with him, all of him. But clearly he didn’t feel the same.

Monday at work, you were quiet, so unlike your usual self. Listening to Jungkook’s girlfriend talk about their trip to Jeju Island, you felt yourself ruminating on the text Yoongi had sent you. Like you had been all night.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” 

You turn quickly, eyes meeting the worried look of your coworker, nodding as you schooled your facial expressions into something more neutral.

“Yea, I just have a migraine. I’m gonna go talk to Yoongi, see if I can go home early.”

You made your way to Yoongi’s office. Knocking gently, his quiet voice beckoned you into the room.

“Hey, um… I think I need to go home early.”

Yoongi, who had his eyes trained on the computer monitor, looked up at you abruptly.

“Are you.. Is everything okay?” his voice was tinged with concern.

“I just.. I think I need a few days off… away from here.” Away from you. 

“Look, Y/N..” Yoongi stood up, coming over to you. He stood there, quiet, eyes taking you in. “Fuck.”

Yoongi kissed you, and you melted into his hold. His hands grasped your forearms, pulling you closer in to him.

‘This can’t happen again’, happened again. And again, and again.

Secret sex with your boss every so often became an almost everyday occurrence, in his office, in his car, in the morning before work when you woke up in his bed, and now, currently pushed up against the wall of the stall in the men’s bathroom.

Yoongi had your legs around his waist, fucking his cock up into you, one hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds escaping your mouth. He had pulled you in here after the last meeting for the project, a celebratory fuck to commence the end of this very time consuming project. Yoongi walked you towards the stall, wanting to brace you against something so he could chase his high. 

As you came, velvety walls pulsing as you rode out your high, the door to the men’s room swung open, and Yoongi disappeared into the stall just in time. He turned and sat on the lid of the toilet, still holding you tightly to him. Shuddering, the orgasm wracked your body as you could hear two guys talking faintly through the hazy post climax glow. 

“God, she’s so hot, maybe I’ll ask her out..” a voice declared, the sound of pissing filling the room. 

“Y/N would never date you,” the other voice laughed, “she’s way out of your league.” Yoongi’s arms tightened imperceptibly around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. He grips your thighs and continues to thrust into you, close to erupting.

“You know that SooHyun is thinking of asking her out. He’s way more her type than you are.” The sound of zippers quickly sounded before the rush of water as the two men washed their hands.

“Fuck, he totally has a better chance than me. Damn, he’s gonna be clapping her cheeks in no time. Guess I’ll stick to jerking it to pics of her from the Christmas party last year.” The door shut and Yoongi sped up his movements until he came, cock emptying his sticky cum inside of you.

You melt your lips with his, lazily kissing him as you settled from your orgasm.

“You and Soohyun hyung?” Yoongi asked, a twinge of jealousy coming through in his moment of weakness. 

“Hmm, I heard some of the girls saying he was thinking of asking me on a date.” You nuzzled into his neck, kissing soft pecks as he softened inside of you.

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice was barely a whisper, a gravely plea.

You sat up, facing him with a serious look on your face. 

“I mean, is there something holding me back? A reason to say no?”

“Do you, uh, do you want there to be?”

His deep Americano eyes meet yours, and you nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Then let me be the reason. Go out with me.”

You smile softly threading your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and causing him to shiver.

“Okay.”

-

You walk back to your office area, fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s, no longer a secret between the two of you as the office gawks at their very quiet and calm boss with the office babe, Soohyun looking a little put out that you were no longer available.

[ey8508]

Words and thoughts

Rumors and Secrets: Li Zeyan (李泽言) | Victor

Li Zeyan SSR: 寸步 | 言思合缝

【Following the handwriting, he will definitely find the place to start 】

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 10-13 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1

Page 1

Early in the morning, president Huarui's office.

"President, this is the main agenda for today, do you think there is a need to add other arrangements?"

Looking at the president's back in front of him, Wei Qian fixed his glasses. He lowered his head and glanced at the notebook he was holding: there was a contract signing and a negotiation in the morning, two meetings in the afternoon, and a business meeting in the evening, not to mention there are many documents and reports that needed to be reviewed and signed...

The president has always handled such a busy and high-pressure work schedule in an orderly manner. It is indeed the style that the "king" he has admired since his school days can have.

Page 2

The "king" recognized by Wei Qian is now standing by the window and looking out. After listening to Wei Qian's schedule reminder, he responded with a low voice: "That's it for now."

"Understand, Mr. President" Wei Qian paused "By the way, the producer of Time Media has been in the small conference room. Do you think you should sign the contract now, or..."

The man by the window finally turned around. He looked calm, wearing a black ironed suit with white pocket squares and even his hair seemed to be rigorous and pleasant. Today's weather is very good, the sun shines brightly and glisten through his side profile.

Page 3

Turning his gaze to the door, Li Zeyan nodded imperceptibly: "Let's go."

Time Media has been in the limelight in the recent years. They had planned and produced many popular variety shows. The cooperation with Time Media this time is a rational decision made by Huarui after examining various data and estimating the return.

Page 4

In the small meeting room, the producer of Time Media held up the contract that had just been signed and the ink was not yet dry. His eyes were sewn up with satisfaction. Finally reached a substantive cooperative relationship with Huarui, and with this large capital support, he can finally flex his muscles and plan his "genius variety show".

Probably people are easy to float on happy occasions, the producer carefully put away the contract, while cheerfully and subconsciously complimenting: "If Mr. Li is free, you are welcome to come to the recording site of the program team at any time. If you can be a guest, the ratings will definitely increase!"

Li Zeyan's movements clearly paused for a moment. After a few seconds, he faintly said: "Absurd"

Page 5

But his sudden deepness and silence naturally viewed differently in the eyes of the producer. The air pressure in the conference room seemed to become invincibility colder. The producer couldn't help but regret: After all, he is the president of Huarui with a busy schedule. How could he have time to entertain the public as a variety show guest?

Just when the producer was hesitant to say something to fix the situation, Wei Qian smiled in time to clear the situation: "If you have no other questions, I will send you downstairs." Li Zeyan nodded tacitly and watched them disappear at the door of the meeting room.

Page 6

He knew that the producer had misunderstood. His momentary pause was not displeasure, but a daze caused by an unannounced impulse. As the producer's voice fell one by one, the words ‘HBS’ suddenly flashed in his mind. It seems that in another real time, someone initiated an invitation to him to be a guest on the show.

He frowned slightly, wondering where this vague feeling came from. It flashed out of thin air and there was no more information, but a seed was planted in his heart.

Chapter 2

Page 1

When Wei Qian sent the producer back, Li Zeyan was sitting sideways on the chair behind the desk. The spring sunshine fell on his shoulders and his hands were gently clasped together, not knowing what he was thinking.

When he saw Wei Qian coming in, Li Zeyan asked him in a deep voice: "Wei Qian, do you know HBS TV?"

"HBS, do you mean that TV station that has the highest ratings for variety shows in the United States for 50 consecutive years?"

Li Zeyan gave a low "Hmm", and seemed to say to himself: "In my impression, there should be no company in Lianyu City that cooperates with HBS."

Page 2

Wei Qian quickly gave an affirmative response: "You remember correctly. Although many companies have extended their arms to HBS, they have not received any response for the time being."

It is as expected. So just now...

Li Zeyan bent his elbows and raised his hands, rubbing his temples. He slept very restlessly last night, he should be fatigued.

Seeing Li Zeyan frowning and closing his eyes, Wei Qian hesitated for a moment: "Why Mr. president suddenly ask about HBS if you wants to cooperate with the other party? If necessary, I will make confirmation about it."

Page 3

"No need." Li Zeyan opened his eyes, his face has returned to calmness, and his eyes are repainted with seriousness and sharpness. "It has been half a month, how is the acquisition plan of TEC Pharmaceuticals progressing?"

"The report is on my desk, Mr. president wait a moment."

"Wait." Li Zeyan called to him, "Bring in a cup of coffee on your way back here."

Page 4

After processing the two documents, Wei Qian returned with the coffee and the rich aroma was floating in the air. Even with the mellow smell, Wei Qian began to report seriously to Li Zeyan about the progress of the acquisition of TEC Pharmaceuticals.

"Over the period of time, according to the previously formulated plan, we have carried out two negotiations with TEC Pharmaceuticals with the letter of intent for mergers and acquisitions..."

Page 5

The hydrogen-containing coffee mist rose up as Li Zeyan took a few sips from the cup of coffee while listening to Wei Qian's report. The coffee flowed into his throat, and he twisted his eyebrows slightly. It was clearly the same coffee beans. From when, he gradually felt that the taste of the coffee seemed to be something missing. Sometimes he even had an inexplicable conviction, as if it was because he was missing a person to drink coffee with him.

Li Zeyan squeezed his eyebrows a little irritably.

Page 6

At the same time, Wei Qian's report came to an end. "... TEC's company representative said that the conditions given by Huarui had not yet reached the best expectations, and also cryptically revealed that a century-old company in Europe is also approaching them. So at present, the other party's attitude is not clear, and it is in an ambiguous wait-and-see stage."

Li Zeyan spoke a long time after the voice fell, and his voice became lighter than before: "I see."

Page 7

In fact, Wei Qian had already noticed the strangeness of the president during the report. As a meticulous assistant, he couldn't help but care: "Mr. President, are you uncomfortable?"

Li Zeyan shook his head, and handed the documents that he had just processed to Wei Qian: "It's just that I didn't sleep well last night." After saying that, he glanced at his watch and said, "It's getting late, get the materials for the negotiation meeting, see you downstairs."

Chapter 3

Page 1

The time bar of a week suddenly passed by.

For a whole week, Li Zeyan has been busy with the acquisition of TEC Pharmaceuticals. With Li Zeyan's resolute and personal efforts, just now, Huarui finally succeeded in advancing its acquisition territory one step further.

In the car, Li Zeyan was looking at a work report that he had just received before getting on the car. Li Zeyan sighed softly when thinking of her bad habit of submitting something and being tired of teaching. The report was about the progress of the charity sale next month, and he quickly scanned it. He still remember last week, under his agitation, she confidently bet that she would win the support of the city government. In this report, she did it.

Page 2

Li Zeyan put down the iPad and curled his lips in relief. He remembered the bet he had made before: if she really did it, he would pick her a small gift. Of course, Li Zeyan didn't intend to break his promise. What's more, although he always commented on ‘boring and naive’ about choosing small gifts for her, he subconsciously felt that it was natural to do it.

The breeze of spring blew in from the gap of the car window. It was rare to feel the breath of spring easily. He cast his eyes out of the window casually. Suddenly, he seemed to catch a glimpse of something...

‘parking.’

Page 3

After letting Wei Qian leave first, Li Zeyan walked to the door of the store that had just been polished ​​and opened the glass door.

This is a gift shop that looks bright and exquisite, with a dazzling array of gifts and goods in an orderly manner. Li Zeyan walked around the shop carefully, and the clerk always followed him politely and kindly.

Although these gifts looked exquisite, there was nothing he would have liked at a glance.

Page 4

Just when he was a little disappointed, a humble keychain suddenly broke into his sight.

The keychain itself is not special, but the wrapping paper underneath it attracted Li Zeyan's attention. The wrapping paper painted a red telephone booth with a British atmosphere.

Perceiving Li Zeyan's pause, the clerk quickly asked: "Mister, do you like this keychain?"

Li Zeyan responded and took the keychain to look closely.

Page 5

"This is a classic British feature," the clerk smiled graciously. "It seems that your feelings for London should be unusual, right?

"...Mhm"

It seemed that the clerk had finally met a usual person and said in a low voice: "I wish I could go to London someday. I heard that there is a great Christmas atmosphere there. I don’t know if it’s true."

Page 6

In fact, in Li Zeyan’s opinion, Christmas in London is nothing more than something that people are familiar with, but it’s nothing special.

But just as he was thinking this way, a red phone booth suddenly jumped into his mind, just like what he was holding in his hand at the moment.

It was as if there was a snowy winter, he looked anxiously at the telephone booth near Big Ben, looking for the ‘her’ who held his heart.

Page 7

Li Zeyan was in a daze for a moment. The feeling of the sudden attack was so real, it made him feel completely empty, as if the snow in London had really drifted from memory to the present. Snow fell into his heart, making his heart fall and contracting in an instant.

When did he experience this memory? Who was the ‘she’ he was looking for?

He was shocked for only a few seconds, and the clerk did not care about his speechlessness but politely extended his hand: "Are you sure you want to buy this? I'll wrap it for you."

Page 8

Li Zeyan handed the keychain over. There was an unreasonable certainty in his subconscious: she would like this gift very much, because...

What is it for?

In front of the cashier, recalling his inexplicable and determined feeling just now, Li Zeyan looked at the little gift that the clerk was holding in his hand and carefully scanned the code.

Chapter 4

Page 1

The ‘Mid-Month Charity Sale Event’ finally kicked off the sale scene. The location of the opening event was set at the street park with the largest daily flow of people.

As the planner of this event, the girl came to the park early for the final inspection and preparations. Not long after, as the sponsor of the event, Li Zeyan also appeared at the Charity Sale Event and delivered an opening speech with the municipal staff.

"...Huarui is a company rooted in Lianyu City. It is the goal and code of conduct for Huarui to pay back this city that has given us warmth and support in various ways. Finally, I wish today’s charity sale a complete success, thank you."

Page 2

After a while, the charity sale officially began. The citizens who had seen the news on the internet enthusiastically gathered around the venue, and the scene was more lively than expected. As soon as Li Zeyan turned his head, he saw a proud smiling face, probably infected by her, and he also slightly raised the corners of his mouth.

Now that the activity has started smoothly and the reporter's on-site interviews are over, he intends to walk around in the park at will, and she naturally follows him. They didn't know that after turning a few paths, there is a forest with swaying branches in front of them. Accompanied by the soft sound of the rustle, the fragrance of the leaves and the smell of earth came to their face.

Page 3

It's rare to be able to walk away leisurely outside the annoyance of official business, they just stop and walked aimlessly, laughing and chatting casually.

It's strange to say that they didn't know each other for a long time, but the relationship between him and her was extraordinarily natural and comfortable from the beginning, as if they should be like this.

Sometimes he even feels unfamiliar, as if he had walked a lot with her a long time ago.

It also includes dense woods as they are now.

Page 4

The sudden phone call made her pouting. It seemed that there was something wrong with the Charity Sale Event. She patted her chest and said that she would be able to solve it, and hurried away confidently. Li Zeyan stared at her back, with a faint smile on his mouth, but somehow, he suddenly felt that the scene before him seemed familiar.

It seemed that at some time, he had also watched a slender figure from the back in the woods. And a sourness mixed with fatigue slowly condensed in his heart. In the vagueness, he vaguely felt that he seemed to have crossed thousands of mountains and rivers in confusion and anxiety, spanning an uncountable amount of time and space of light years, just to see this figure again.

Page 5

In the forest mist, he saw the back in front of him turned around, and the girl gently called out his name.

He also responded with a chuckle, and then tightened his grip on the girl's hand: "Dummy... it’s not name-calling it's confirmation."

"... Confirmation?"

But the forest mist blocked the girl's face, and he anxiously didn't know how to confirm it. At this moment, the wind in the woods suddenly blew, blowing away a corner of the mist.

There was no one in front of him.

Page 6

But when the fog disappeared, he heard a playful question. The girl asked, how did you find me afterwards?

Li Zeyan was stunned. He didn't remember what his answer was or whether he answered.

But subconsciously, a place appeared in his mind -Souvenir.

That seems to be where the answer opens.

Chapter 5

Page 1

With the ‘Closed’ sign in Souvenir, the brightly-lit dining room seemed to be empty, except for a slight noise from the kitchen.

In the spacious and clean kitchen, Li Zeyan is wearing a white apron, making pudding attentively. Pouring the boiled sugar juice into the pudding mold evenly, then pour the boiled milk on a low heat into the stirred egg mixture, stir evenly, and finally slowly pour the pudding into the pudding mold, and then put it in the baking pan.

Li Zeyan picked up the baking tray and put it into the oven. When the time and temperature were adjusted, the oven made a button sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet Souvenir. But Li Zeyan was leaning on the side of the table platform, but he was extremely calm. In Souvenir's back kitchen, he can always find the peace in that corner.

Page 2

Looking at the oven with the built-in light on, his eyes gradually moved farther and farther.

Those recent seemingly sudden and unattainable feelings are like a bunch of woolen threads scattered on the ground, but he never believes that all stories can always go to the source, and these woolen threads must be from a certain source. The person who could lead the other side along, a name had already surfaced in his heart.

Page 3

Messy thoughts thrashed in Li Zeyan's mind. For the first time, he decided to abandon the so-called rational analysis and chose to believe in his own heart. Because he later realized that in addition to the beating of the heart in his left chest, it turned out that there seemed to be inexplicable feelings and emotions.

"...ting!"

The oven makes a crisp sound, it should be the pudding. Li Zeyan stood up straight and was about to take it, but a slight footstep suddenly heard from the door. The owner of the name in his heart was walking towards him on high heels.

Page 4

She probably smelled the scent of pudding, she sniffed her nose and her eyes lit up. Holding a souvenir-like thing, she came to him in three or two steps, opened the box triumphantly, and then raised the small crystal lamp in front of him. The moment she turned the switch on the bottom, the orange starlight immediately appeared from the small crystal lamp.

Almost at the same time, a similar orange starlight was gradually awakening from his long memory. It seems that Souvenir is full of Christmas atmosphere. In the little light, a girl raises her head with a smile-

That face is so familiar.

Page 5

It turns out that the girl really exists in those vague memories that are not clear.

In the kitchen at this moment, the scent of pudding diffuses through the oven. Just as some distant but clear fragments are slowly rolling in.

Memory and reality, the past and the present, overlap closely. Li Zeyan stared at the smiling face in front of him that was dyed softer by the orange starlight.

________

[maeve-writes]

Little Red Corvette

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky x Reader

Rating: 18+; Minors DNI

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, public sex, slight praise and daddy kink.

Summary: Bucky finds happiness in fixing up classic cars. He has his sights set on one in particular. When he can’t find it, you make it your mission to do whatever it takes to get it.

a/n: This is written for @buckyblues 4k Follower Challenge. (Congrats again!) I chose Little Red Corvette by Prince. Normally I’m inspired by lyrics, but the idea of Bucky in a sexy red two seater with a pretty lil’ thing next to him made me weak. I wanted this to be straight up smut but feelings got in the way.

This is not beta’d. Forgive any mistakes!

-

When Bucky came to terms with his new life, found some peace in a world without Soldat looming over his shoulder, he found solace in his tinkering. He would often take apart whatever technology he could find to see how it worked only to put it together again. It was therapeutic, a constant reminder that things were never broken for long, someone would always be there to fix it.

You were the one to piece him back together. Sam helped, too, of course, tightening any loose screws you may have missed, but you did all of the heavy lifting. You found out what made Bucky work, what parts needed replacing and you fixed him. He would never be the original James Barnes, but no one ever stayed the same, and you didn’t want him to be. You liked the man you woke up next to every morning, who blinked at you with sleep hazed eyes and pressed lazy kisses across your face. You loved the man that ravaged you at night, on any surface, buried as deep as he could go so he could become a part of you, to feel you against his soul.

While you found his tinkering irksome at times, especially when he would steal the coffee maker or microwave when you were in a rush to get to work and just need to zap fry breakfast and fill up your thermos, it was mostly endearing to see his nose scrunched up in concentration as he disassembled things with childlike fascination. 

What broke you was when you flopped down on the couch with controller in hand and no console to receive its signal. 

Storming into the garage, you slammed open the door to find him hunched over his work bench. “James,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You could see his muscle tense underneath the grey henley he had on, his breathing stilled. Only two women ever used that tone with him, one was his mother, the other was you, and he wasn’t sure which he was more afraid of. When he didn’t answer, you leaned against the door frame and glared at the large frame of his back. “Care to tell me where my PS5 is?” 

His shoulder dropped slightly and he dared to look over it at you. Bucky had seen death, had seen war, had seen the near end of the universe itself and nothing made his blood run colder than the receiving end of your icy stare. “I’ll put it back together,” he offered. The grinding of your teeth made him flinch and he dropped his tools to cross the room and make things right.

It took two months to find a replacement for your beloved PlayStation. How could he have known how hard it was to find one in stock? Even when it came in and he hooked it back up for you, you still held out one more day before you finally caved and forgave him with a two day fuckfest that ended with a proposal that Bucky moved on from electronics to cars.

He took the suggestion and ran with it. The next day he and Sam went to the junkyard to find a good frame with potential and towed it back with that bright, genuine smile of his and an eagerness to get started. He spent days on the internet ordering parts, looking up facts on what modern modifications worked best, and watched video after video of reviews on classic sports cars.

You found him in the garage most nights when his dreams became too much and he didn’t want to wake you. Some nights you would bring him snacks with a kiss and leave him to his work. Other nights you would climb behind him on his bench, wrap your arms around his waist and sleep against his back. Either way, you allowed him to work because that’s what Bucky needed.

When he wasn’t off on a mission or wrapped up in you, he was researching cars or fixing them. After one was finished from the base up, he’d give it away or offer it to a charity auction, then start all over. He had his favorites, every “car guy” did, and he also had his white whale.

One night you felt him crawl up your body impressively hidden behind the spread of your book. You lifted a curious brow but before you could lower your novel, he shoved his tablet in your face as he took a seat on your thighs. “Every time I try to find one, someone snatches it away,” he told you, voice a little huffy as if he was seconds away from a tantrum. 

“It can’t be that hard,” you tutted, tucking your book away to help him with his search. It turned out that it was incredibly hard to find any sort of form of his new obsession. Every post that either of you found had been sold or had a sale pending. Even body frames were hard to come by, much to your luck. “I’m sorry, babe, but we’ll find one soon.”

Bucky resigned himself to finding a filler car. While he was still enthusiastic about fixing up something new, you could tell his heart was set on it - the 1965 Corvette Convertible, specifically, Rally Red in color. There wasn’t much that your man asked for in life, even though it owed him so much, so for him to yearn for one thing so much and not be able to obtain it, it upset you.

So, you were going to make it happen. 

You spent your days working as usual and your nights searching for his coveted car. Your browser was filled with tabs, each watching car auctions, only to be outbid on all of them. Frustrated, you flipped on your VPN, opened up your TOR browser and dipped into the dark web to dig deeper. It wasn’t your first time going through back channels to get what you wanted and it wouldn’t be your last. If it would make Bucky happy, it would be worth the risk.

Two weeks later you told Bucky you would be working later than usual. You had been playing up a huge project at work and the deadline was coming closer. He, of course, hated when you were out past dark without him, but he never vocalized his concerns because he knew the bite he would receive in return. You could take care of yourself, he knew that, but he would still worry because that was his job.

You took an Uber from work to meet the seller at the small airport on the edge of the city. The man was from Germany and specialized in vintage cars; if he didn’t have one you wanted, he’d find one for a hefty price, of course. But any amount was worth your man’s happiness, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you held the small bag of cash in your hand as you crossed the airfield.

Sitting outside what you assumed to be a private jet was the cherry red two seater, top already down and looking as beautiful as the picture you saw online. Yeah, it was going to be worth every penny. “Jonas,” you asked as you approached the man standing cross armed next to the car. He towered over you by at least a full foot and a half and was just as wide. His dark eyes watched you approach, a curious flint sparked in them.

“Yes. You are early,” he noted. He held out a beefy hand and you placed the money in it. “Not one for pleasantries, hmm?” His laughter echoed across the runway and you offered him an amused smile. “Your man is a lucky one.” His other hand was held out, this time with the keys to the car. “For you to meet a complete stranger in the middle of the night, it is dangerous, no?”

You narrowed your gaze and lifted a brow. It seemed your look was enough of an answer because Jonas gave you another laugh. “A woman of very little words, I like you. We will do business again, yes?” It was a statement rather than a question. “Enjoy.”

He swept an arm toward the driver seat and you slid inside. With a turn of the key, the car purred to life and a smile grew on your face. You revved the engine twice, nodded to the man a few feet away before you sped towards your house to give Bucky his gift. 

When you got home, he wasn’t there. You found a note left on the kitchen counter: Beers with Sam. -B

Normally you wouldn’t mind him going out because you were happy that he would be even willing to leave the house, but to only leave a note and not text you seemed worrisome.

You pushed any more negative thoughts out of your mind and headed to take a shower. By the time you got out and headed back to the kitchen to make yourself a quick sandwich, Bucky was home, sitting on the counter and watching you. “Hey, handsome, how’s Sam?” You leaned up to kiss him, but it wasn’t returned. “Something wrong?”

“You weren’t at work,” Bucky said evenly. “We stopped by to grab you dinner and you weren’t there.”

Your skin heated and you sighed. “Bucky, I can explain-“

He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his metal hand. “Don’t bother. If you’re seein’ someone else, you can just tell me.”

You recoiled like he slapped you across the face. “James,” you snapped, which caused him to tense up, “I would never, ever even dream of being with anyone but you.” You forced your way between his legs and cupped his face in your hands to make him look at you. “You are all that I want and no one will ever compare to you. Don’t ever say that again, okay? You’ll break my heart.”

He didn’t say anything, not for a few minutes, and neither did you. All he could do was stare into your eyes and see the truth in them. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay, I know why you did,” you assured him and pressed another kiss to his lips, this time you received one in response. “Now, can I tell you why I wasn’t at work?” He nodded once, a tiny glint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Well, I’d rather show you.”

You stepped away from the counter and pulled him along with you. With his hand in yours, you led him to the garage and flipped on the light with a, “Ta-da!”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed as he let go of you and stumbled into the room towards the car, all of the fear, worry and angst melting away instantly. “How did you-“ You pinched your forefinger and thumb together and twisted them in front of your pursed lips. He rolled his eyes but smiled and gestured to the driver seat.

“All yours, handsome,” you winked and hit the button to open the garage door.

He shook his head and patted the seat next to him, “You’re comin’ with me.” When you protested saying you were in your night clothes, he waved it off. “We’re just goin’ for a drive, sweetheart, nothin’ to dress up for.” You joined him with a reluctant sigh and flopped into the passenger seat. 

When the key turned and the engine purred, Bucky let out a pornographic moan. You turned to him, brow perked. “Sweetheart,” he rasped, “you have no idea what this car does to me.” Your eyes flickered to the quickly growing bulge in his jeans before his deep chuckle caught your attention, “Or maybe you do.”

He reached over to pinch your chin between two metal fingers before crashing his lips against your own. His tongue fought its way inside of your mouth and licked sinfully against the roof of it. “Buckle up,” he whispered against the gasp you released as he sat back.

Lightheaded, you did as instructed and watched him adjust the mirrors and lights before he pulled out of the garage and sped down the driveway and through the neighborhood. His face was bright in the evening light, his smile outshone the moon. “You’re gorgeous,” you told him breathlessly, and you would have most likely not been heard over the wind whipping around you by any other person, but your super soldier caught every syllable and flushed at the compliment.

He took your hand into his and brought it to his lips, kissing each knuckle before it came to rest on his thigh. You could feel the happiness radiating off of him, seeping into your own pores and filling you up until your lips turned up into a matching smile. “What’re you thinkin’ about,” he asked you, flicking his attention from the road to you and back again.

“You,” you replied, “always you.”

The smile on his face grew and he squeezed your hand once more. He found a new happy place, one outside of your shared home, one not between your legs. It was there, in that car, racing free down the open road with his best girl in the seat next to him. “I’m thinkin’ about you, too,” he said as his hand guided yours towards his lap.

“Mr. Barnes,” you gasped playfully but allowed him to rest your hand against his tented jeans, “we can’t do this, it’s sinful.”

“Live a little, darlin’,” he played along, forcing you to squeeze him which caused him to groan.

You pinned your bottom lip between your teeth and rubbed at him over his clothes, feeling the heat of his arousal coming off him in burning waves. Your fingers worked open the button of his pants and with a little maneuvering, you were able to fish out his cock, hard and thick, violently red and dripping with need. His hiss as it hit the cool air caused you to jump back for a moment, but his needy whimper drew you back again. “I swear to god, Bucky, if you crash and kill me, I’m going to haunt you,” you warned him.

He blinked, taken aback by the rather brash statement, about to ask what you meant by that but you were already unbuckled, bent forward and taking him into your mouth. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, metal hand gripping the steering wheel tight enough to pop the stitching on the leather coating. 

Your tongue swirled around his tip, gathering what leaked out before you flattened your tongue and took more of him in. He was thick and long, hard to take all at once, but you had learned from many hours of practice just how to get all of his glorious cock down your throat. Your hands worked what wasn’t wet with your tongue yet as you bobbed up to suck on his head and relax your jaw. “Feels like heaven, sweetheart,” he cooed above you, his free hand bundling up your hair to keep it out of the way. “Fuck, your mouth works my cock so good.”

Delighted at his praise, you hummed in return that sent sparks to his core. You took more of him in, nearly all of him, with your cheeks hallowed and your tongue dancing along his skin. More praise fell from his lips, encouraging words and filthy promises, you almost forgot you’re in the car until the tires started to hit the bumps along the white line - an indication that Bucky was veering off of the road.

You pulled off of him much to his disappointment and saw that he parked along the side of the road. “What’re you doing,” you asked, wiping your spit away with the back of your hand. 

“You told me not to crash,” he shrugged and undid his seatbelt. “Now get over here and ride Daddy’s cock.”

The words hit you dead center and you nearly collapsed from how weak and needy they made you. “We seriously can’t do this, Buck, anyone can come by and see.”

“That’s livin’, darlin,” he replied. His flesh hand wrapped around his cock and started to pull on it, staring at you with half lidded eyes and a groan rumbled in his throat. “Are you gonna just sit there and stare or are you gonna enjoy the ride?”

Absently, you licked your lips and watched his hand work himself and honestly felt a little jealous of it. That was your cock, it was your responsibility to make it feel good. Thoughts of getting caught and thrown in jail over public indecency were thrown out of the window and you crawled over to him, losing your sleep shorts on your way over.

“No panties? That’s my good girl,” Bucky grinned, his hand moved from himself to your hips as you climbed into his lap. “Been thinkin’ about this pretty pussy all day.” He hungrily licked his lips and reached between your bodies to run his fingers through your folds, drawing a gasp from you. “Absolutely soakin’, hm? Been thinkin’ about me, too?”

You nodded, your pussy clenching around nothing as Bucky’s fingers teasingly danced around your hole. “Daddy,” you whined, desperate for any sort of attention, “please?”

“What do you need, sweetheart,” he purred, his thumb ghosting over your clit as your slick began to run down your thighs. 

“You, Daddy,” you answered, hoping that was enough. “All of you. Only you.”

Bucky seemed to be happy with that and slid two thick fingers inside of you. “Such a greedy little pussy,” he hummed, slowly pulling them out again as you whined above him. “You need to be filled, don’t you, baby? My fingers won’t be enough.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip once more, threatening to draw blood, when you shook your head in response. “Need your cock,” you told him. “Please.”

“Always askin’ so nicely, sweetness, how could I deny you?” He twisted his fingers inside you one last time before he held himself steady so you could line up. “Sink down on Daddy’s cock like a good girl.”

You steadied yourself with one hand on the headrest of his seat and the other was used to guide his tip towards your core. Once he slipped inside, your hand shot up to grip at his shirt as you lowered yourself with satisfied moan which was nearly drowned out by Bucky’s. “Too big,” you sighed, seated and feeling stretched and full.

“But you’re takin’ it, darlin’,” he smiled up at you, his skin flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “You’re doing so good.” You preened at his compliment and returned his smile. “You move when you’re ready.”

You took the time to adjust to angle and his size, leaning down to exchange a lazy kiss. When you parted for air, you shifted your weight to wrap your arms around his neck and raised your hips to slide up his cock only to slam back down with a moan.

“Is that how you’re gonna to play it, sweetheart,” he asked breathlessly. When you replied with the same harsh roll of your hips, Bucky growled and his hands found your hips. You could feel the bite of his grip against your bone, you knew the bruises it would bring in the morning, but it would be worth it. “Can’t have a nice, slow fuck in the car, can we? My girl needs it hard and rough.”

He shifted his legs to plant his feet firmly on the floor of the car and started to meet your hips with a harsh snap of his own. Delighted at the feral snarl that curled his lips, you increased your speed, bouncing on his thick thighs as he fucked up into you, a growl erupting from him with each meeting of your hips. “Yes,” you gasped, “that’s it, Daddy. Just like that.”

“Yeah, I know how my dirty little girl likes it,” he grunted over the sound of your skin slapping and your slick sex sucking him in. “I can hear how much she likes it.”

Your head fell forward as he pounded up into you, the lewd squeak of the seat joined the chorus of your moans. “So close,” you told him.

But he already knew by the way you fluttered around him, coaxing him toward his own end. His metal hand left your hip and moved between you to seek out your swollen bud. “Gonna cum for me, good girl,” he asked. You tried to answer, tried to nod, but the way his hips shoved up into you and the cool metal against your heated sex that rubbed desperately at your clit was far too much.

A delicious snap came from within you and spread a white hot fire throughout your body. You came with his name on your lips, a desperate, holy cry. And he wasn’t far behind, a few hard thrusts and he spilled into you, whispering praise and adoration.

You stayed joined until the mess between your legs became itchy and the bugs started to swarm from the sweat on your bodies. “Best mill and half I’ve ever spent,” you sighed happily, lifting off of his lap.

“Wait, how much?!”

[softkuna]

𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 | Hinata

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑... 𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚈𝙾.

Anxiety was a fun thing to deal with sometimes. You know - like when you triple checked the details of the test date you had scheduled today. You pressed a hand to your chest as you woke your phone. Eyes were glued to the pin on the map that your date, Hinata Shoyo: Rental Boyfriend, put on it. You thought maybe, just maybe, he canceled last minute or after seeing your face IRL. A chill ran through you and you muttered to no one in particular, “God, how embarrassing would that be…”

  As you swiped through the app, you pat all around your neck, your cheek, your collarbone in a few nervous motions. Sure, you knew the area. Sure, you went out a few times to sketch the roads for a comic or two. But as you stood, cool fingers drumming nervously along your skin, it all felt unfamiliar.

  A voice cried your name out, jolting your attention away from insecurity for a moment. You squinted, thinking you misheard. The wind! That’s all it was. Just as you were about to check your phone for the nth time, you caught a glimpse of tangerine. Through the hoard of 9-5ers, five fingers raised in a wave until a broad shoulder shimmied its way through the crowd.

“H-Hinata?” His name came out a lot more hushed than you intended and you could feel the heat of your cheeks. Oh no. He’s cute. Duh. You knew he was. He had a profile picture and some extra pics that you and your friend scrolled through the night prior. One caught your eye in particular; it was with a dog that wasn’t his according to the caption (and the added note of ‘but imma get a big boi some day’’). There was another with a guy with short black hair. They all radiated a type of warmth and welcome to them even if those around him seemed ready to punch a wall - a trait not missed out on in person.

  He beamed, taking your hand in his as though it were as natural as the sun shining, “Hey babe!”

  The words put a bar in the cogs of your mind, stopping all rational thought.  Babe. Babe?! Oh fuck. I’m babe! Oh wait. Yeah that’s right. You rented him to be your boyfriend. It’s supposed to be natural. You scolded yourself for forgetting that simple fact. 

Hinata laced his fingers through yours and you could feel the slight dampness of his palm. The thought that he may be as nervous as you put you slightly at ease. It would make sense as he didn’t have any reviews or ratings or anything. He was new! A beta-boyfriend babe!

  It took a moment or two for you to realize that not only was he guiding you down the sidewalk, but you had been staring at nothing but your shoes the entire way there. Shyly, you apologized. 

  “For what, babe? Oh! Wait! I didn’t get to mention yet,” Bright eyes burned with excitement as they tilted over his shoulder, “That’s a cute dress!” He genuinely thought so, too. Trying to act all coupl-y with a stranger was definitely weird, but, like anything he tried, he wanted to put his best effort in. Hinata wasn’t sure on what to expect, truthfully. When looking at your profile after the booking was made, he was caught off guard by how cute you were. In person seemed even worse. Better? Hell if he knew.

  As a lanky waiter shuffled you both into a booth, you were off put by your boyfriend slipping in next to you. Right smack dab next to you. Thigh touching thigh and the heat of his sent a shiver up your spine. You placed a hand on your chest again and spent more time reading a menu than you thought you ever had before.

  Hinata’s expression fell thoughtfully as he saw the slight shake in your slender digits and the way your teeth gnashed at your lower lip. He tilted his head with a small laugh and a nudge to your ribs with his elbow. The corners of his mouth piquing to such a point you could practically feel the mischievousness from it, “Play along, ‘kay? Kay?”

  Suspiciously, you peaked over the top of the menu roof you made with a nod. As the waiter returned, a strong muscled arm wrapped around your shoulder and snuggled you close. Mouth falling into an ajar ‘o’, your confusion was as palpable as his joy, “It’s my girlfriend’s birthday today! You guys got some cake, maybe a candle or OOOH a song?”

  “Hinata!” You smacked his head with the menu, “It’s n-“

  He brought a finger to his lips to silent-shush you, lashes dipping in a wink. You smiled pleasantly, yet awkwardly at the waiter and in the least convincing tone, chimed,  “It’s my birthday. Yaaay.”

  “See! How could you deny that!” His sheer and pointed enthusiasm made up for your lack thereof.

  The waiter, not buying any of it but needing the tips to pay his rent, congratulated you before excusing himself. Ten minutes later, two others trailed behind him singing a specialty birthday tune. In their hands rested the most delicious looking chocolate cake. To say you inhaled that thing would be an understatement. It was creamy, rich, everything you could’ve wanted in a cake.

  “Take a bite!” You offered a forkful to your date, one hand below to catch the droppings. Obliging gleefully, he did.

  “‘m pwetty bad wif dates but I saw you like fweets!” The words came between chews, and he gestured here and there as he swallowed, “Glad you liked it cause we got five more restaurants to try!”

  “Excuse me?!”

  And just like that, Hinata whisked you from one restaurant to another. Each one was slightly ritzier than the last and with each one, he could see the tense scrunch of your shoulders melt away. 

He made you feel safe and you started to joke with him more openly, smile more frequently, and sarcastically quip at him. He liked the way you smacked his arm every time he called the waiters over too dramatically. He liked the way you acted surprised they’d come around the corner with cakes and songs. You managed to melt his heart with the cutest ‘Oh! Babe!’ whenever he tried to genuinely surprise you. He adored watching your eyes light up whenever you got a taste of each decadent sweet. It would be an outright lie to deny that you feeding him made his heart flutter, too.

  You clung to Hinata’s arm, cheek resting heavily on bicep as your stomach decided to churn all the sugar you ate like it was a tilt-a-whirl. He patted your hand, thinking you were just trying to be cute, “So, what made you want to rent someone?” 

  The night sky took over the afternoon sun. Tiredly, you gazed up to your ‘boyfriend’, letting a moment of silence occupy the time it took to get over the small wave of nausea, “This is… embarrassing.” You chuckled softly, letting your fingers fall onto your neck, “I uh… never dated someone before. I have a date set up and got so anxious I almost canceled three times. I really want to put myself out there though and be more comfortable.“

  “Is that why you were so red?! I thought I was meeting a cherry when I saw you! All like –“ His hands flew to his cheeks in a damn near perfect imitation of you and your voice, “-i-i-it’s n-n-ot m-my-“ before he could stutter the rest out, you interrupted with a loud and embarrassed groan. His laugh hissed passed teeth, “It was cute! You’re adorable, ya know?” The words slipped out so naturally and with such warmth that you wondered where the act was put down and where it was picked back up.

  “As I was saying,” you jested with a light hearted eye roll, “My friend was really worried about me. I mean, it’s not often you’re a date-virgin in your twenties.”

  Hinata pursed his lips, thinking about it, “Ya know, maybe it is weird - ” You felt your heart stop and your comfort crack just slightly. You probably would have laughed had it not been for the wave of heat then ice that swept over you, “- that someone as… as…” His lips pursed as he tried to find a word. Your anxiety built with each delayed second. In a grand gesture, his arms swang back, “WH’BAM as you never got asked out before!” Despite your death grip on him, the ginger still managed to hop on cue, “’sides! You got a pretty good friend looking after you!”

  “Heh,” You laughed, “Guess you’re right, but wh’bam?”

  “It just makes sense!” He slapped your hand a few times with the soft palm of his, “Okay okay! Now, we’re going to that one!” A finger pointed to a fancy black double door. 

  “Hinata I-“ You began to protest, feeling your palms dampen and your stomach curdle. 

  “Don’t worry about price! I got it!” He tugged at your arm.

  “N-no, We need to-“

  “You’ve been having such a good time! We can do one more!”

  “Just come over h-here-“

  “This one has the best cake from what I read! It’s not too expensiiiiiiive.”

  The end of his sentence tumbled out of his mouth like the night’s worth of cake and frosting tumbled out of your gut. Directly onto the ground. And on the expensive nude heels your friend leant you. And on Hinata’s own pricy looking sneakers.

  There was a moment of silence as you lit the coffin of your pride and watched it sail away into the ocean. (Goodbye sweet trait, it was nice while it lasted. Rest in Pieces.)

  Hinata blinked. The event registered in his squirrel brain like a dial up modem. She just threw up. It’s on my shoe. It’s on her shoe. OH NO I MADE HER THROW UP! Red alerts blared as he whipped his head around, making the biggest display of ‘nothing to see here’ that could’ve been humanly possible. All too easily, he slid an arm under your knees and scurried around for a place to sit. It took about ten minutes for him to find a bench on an empty walkway. He sat you down and patted your head with long, sweet strokes. Each pat, while good natured, went unnoticed as your intestines tried to murder you in cold blood.

  Hinata sprinted for the convenience store and bought the first couple of antacids he could find, along with some anti-nausea medication and water. A small bit of sweat broke out along his brow as he dashed back to you. Agile as a leaf in the wind, he squatted right in front of you, hurriedly dumped everything out of the double-bagged plastic bags to give to you. He stuttered out his menu of medications and you down some of them with water.

  “Hey, heeey,” his gentle voice cooed to you, both hands rubbing your arms in soothing motions (a little roughly, but he’s trying), “It’s okay, you’re okay, you don’t need to cry!” You waved a hand, lips parted as you waited for another wave to hit which never came. You thought he’d make fun of you, laugh in your face about how pathetic this was, but it never came. For some reason that made you even more emotional. He was just a rental boyfriend. He didn’t need to deal with this. Instead of quitting then and there, Hinata took a seat right next to you and pulled you to his chest. Your back flinched reflexively as a calloused hand rubbed calming circles along it. He started talking about a time he was at a volleyball game and had the nervous-shits so bad he nearly had to sit out.

  “That’s… disgusting,” The words came out as a half-laugh, half-cry. You wiped your eyes, ignoring the makeup now dripping down your face from sweat and tears.

  “You’re telling me! Tanaka called me ‘little-shits’ for two months after that!” His laugh was contagious, spreading warmth through your fingertips and toes. It was rare to meet someone who had such a natural talent to make you feel so wholly accepted.

  After about 10 minutes, the medication began to fully settle your stomach. The bag was tossed into a stray trash can. Hinata had barely even realized that his chin was perched on the crown of your head as he talked about other embarrassing stories (including the time he got pegged in the nuts during training camp). The warmth of you in his hold simply belonged and he didn’t want to let go just yet.

  “Thank you,” you peered up at him with eyes so pretty and a smile so kind he wanted to kiss it then and there.

  “For what?” His head tilted again. If he were a puppy, his ears would flop with each tilt.

  “Being so sweet to me for my first trial date. Even if it’s your job, you really went above and beyond. And uh…you know-” You kicked your shoe to his.

  The athlete ruffled his hair, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks and ears at the thought of being your first date, “Don’t need to thank me for it! I had a blast! You’re pretty warm too!”

  “Thanks?” You sputtered a small laugh before checking your phone and the time. It was nearly up. As per request, a text of your location was sent to the friend who started it all.

  For a while, you rested in Hinata’s hold, savoring the rich batter of comfort and calm it baked you in. He chattered on about this and that, exchanging a remark here and there when you poked fun. 

Once you pulled away from him, he couldn’t help but miss the feel of your mold on the palm of his hand like a volleyball right at the precipice – right in his reach. You checked your violently buzzing phone, confirming the spot where you were sitting to your friend. 

“Who was that?” Hinata asked, a boyish hint of pouting sad laced underneath his natural curiosity.

“My friend,” you answered, popping another antacid in your mouth, “our time is up, so she’ll be here soon.”

 Those words were a bitter sound, one that reminded Hinata that this wasn’t real. This was a bet that he wanted to win. One that he secretly cursed. In all reality, he wanted to have fun and when he saw that you booked him, he didn’t know what to think. Dating wasn’t really his thing. He rarely had time to when it came to practice and had it not been for the bet, he probably wouldn’t have sought someone out at all, let alone someone as out of his league as you.

  The headlights of your friend's car came into view. Just as you went to take a step forward, a strong hand circled around your wrist. In a swift movement, you turned to look at the culprit. 

  “Just make sure to rent me again if you have some time, yeah?” Hinata’s smile held a hint of something you couldn’t identify. 

 Nevertheless, you returned the sentiment, “Of course!”

You parted with a long hug.

As the car pulled away, Hinata flicked through his phone. Once the dates were done, each point of contact would be deleted automatically. A reasonable company policy that felt like a sour punch to the gut.. A small twinge of sadness came over him, but he knew that if it was meant to be, you’d find your way to each other again. In the mean time…

   𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎.... 𝟷 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐!

  He was going to kick Atsumu’s pancake ass!

 “Sooooo~ How was the ‘date’? Looks like you two got along!” Your friend’s voice rang as she shimmied in her seat in excitement, brows wiggling in expectation.

  “Oh shut it!” You cried in false annoyance, “I threw up, can you believe that?!” Dramatically, she gasped, listening as you recounted the events of the boy who was the sun itself. Finalizing your long winded tale of cake-filled adventure, that same warmth spread across your chest, lapping small butterfly wings at your stomach, “I had a good time. I… definitely feel more comfortable with the idea of putting myself out there now.”

Introduction | Navigation

[nsfwlost]

one on one

"Hey, Dylan. The new head is looking out for ya." 

I choked on my coffee a bit, fingers gripped on the plastic handle a bit tighter as I wasn't sure exactly what I'd be in trouble for. I haven't done anything noticeable -- has I? Surely not. That being said, my attire was lacking for the occasion, or any occasion really. I worked in the lower end of the staff so me and my team never got this impromptu one on ones.

"Has any of the others met her?" Double checking with my co-worker in case they had the wrong person.

"No... the other one she wanted t osee was on vacation." He spoke of it more, your head tilted and lips quirking off from one side to the other. "Look, she's new so, my guess is that she just wants to do a head count and meet us a little bit. Let us know how we can improve and whatnot, yeah?" 

"Hm..." You pondered further, a sigh emitting out unknowingly as you really didn't want to do this.

"I dunno man, might as well get this over with and go back to your day to day routine." A shrug of his shoulders came about as I nodded my head. Better to face them head on rather than run away from this obstacle.

Lee Jueun... Your co-worker spoke of that name before you both split in opposite directions as I headed up over to the office.

You hadn't met her yet, with how busy work has become the past few weeks. It was seeming to be like this day would never come until she propped you out of your schedule to fit onto hers. Spending the week in a split shift, most of the higher ups carried most of their meetings in the afternoon, times where I wasn't in the office.

Regardless, I was prepared for the worst. Things were far from perfect in my area, but everyday was still manageable. If I was going to get fired, than so be it. Business is booming in the work field so it shouldn't be too hard with my credentials to grab something new with ease. But still -- I've been here for a few seasons. Making myself a name with a few others and being part of whatever norm there was here.

I lost myself in that thought with each foot taking one step over the other in a monotonous pace as the door opened when waiting at a locked frame.

"Hello," the women spoke out in a comfortable tone. "Dylan, was it?"

You nodded your head as you gave out a toothy façade of a smile. Giving out a bright impression to leave your mark on. Her hand extended as you followed her up with a firm handshake of a few bobs before retracting back to your sides.

She let you in her office as the pace of your feet revved up again to go inside. The sound of door clunking from behind and a lock soon followed.

"Hey, there's coffee over there if you want some." She offered. "Go ahead, it's fine." She spoke out as she went back over to her desk, grabbing hold of a few papers as I walked on over to the coffee machine, back against the boss and hearing the liquid pour down into the paper cup grabbed.

Shaking off the jitters you had formed and taking a sip, realizing how absurd I just was when they met face to face. Hopefully with due time you wouldn't have been as nervous but it was an uphill battle.

"Dylan." She called out, you spun on your feet with coffee still in your mouth. She sat against the middle of her desk with paper in hand, waving them nicely as she peeked at you with a face you couldn't read. "There's been a few hiccups regarding your work hours, lets get down to it?"

"Sure, that's fine with me." I obliged, having to get those words out of your mouth quickly as the burning coffee was killing your throat.

Jueun went through your personal files, various amounts of them she brought up as you stood there, watching. Your eyes darted to her hand and how it was adjusting her skirt more times than one could count. You didn't want to point it out, but if you didn't know any better. It looked like she kept doing it every time your eyes walked away from her face or to the windows.

But again, my trance was broken by an external force. She moved her arm back to attempt to fix the mess she made but it just got worse. More folders and papers scattered on the floor as you stood quickly on your feet. But Jueun had always bent over, her skirt hiked up high, and he watched the bottom of her perfect ass of hers start to crawl out. If anything, you would have noticed she wasn't wearing any -- 

"Now then." She answered as the manila folders were back in her hands. "Let's get down to it." 

I immediately stood back, only for Jueun to start walking towards you. What was she doing now? 

Their distance was only a few centimeters apart, she stood on her heels and whispered into your ear. "It seems like your profile needs a bit of a morale boost." 

"..Okay?" A breathy noise was your only response.

Jueun's hand went down towards your waists until it reached towards your zipper to give a fondle in her palm. "How would you like to go about it?" She dropped to her knees and onto the carpet between my legs. Undoing the metallic bits of the zipper and pulling down on my dress slacks to let my manhood spring out. It was fully erect -- why wouldn't it be? From how Jueun was displaying herself and now this. Her lips parted wide, hot breath ghosting out from her vicinity and and oozing out like air to my skin. Her head lowered. Licking the head of my cock and gulping down inch by inch until it disappeared like a trick into the vacuum of her mouth.

I didn't last long, I couldn't help it. A heavy load of my cum pumped out of my system and into her mouth and face. Groaning in satisfaction before she lapped up more of my head and sucked on it like a lollipop. Jueun must have savored in the taste. She looked me in the eyes before widening her tiers. Showcasing out an empty mouth. She sucked me off into another full erection. My hands balled into fists as she was in full control of the situation, unable to do anything more as if you weren't day dreaming about ravishing and facefucking that pretty mouth of hers. 

I swear my eyes were rolling to the back of my head as she kept assaulting my cock. You reached your hands out, grabbing hold of the nearest object to grip onto something and that ended up being her jet black, silky hair.

"Nmm..." A loud slurping sound came from the girl right after. "Mm...ah...mfff... Heel hood?" 

My body winced, eyes shut back tight as Jueun's lips clamped down hard and it felt like she was going to take off my cock.  "Did anyone ever teach you not to talk when your mouth's full --?" Speaking out with as much might as I could, each word becoming breathier by the second at the intensity of of she was going.

But your answer was obvious. "...Yeah."  It really did, despite cumming already and moving on to the second round. She was sucking me dry. Her mouth full of my cock, eyes slowly fluttering back open and going to a half lidded state. Seeing how focused and determined she was at making me feel good sparked up a twitch in the lower halve of your body. 

Pure bliss. 

I bet I looked spaced out, I couldn't determine what my faces I was making but it feels dopey. "Nngh--!" My legs became twinge, her soft muscle pulled out of her hot mouth and lathering up the lower side of my groin. It feels good, a second burst was about to blow. Her mouth was all warm and wet, a tight orifice for the taking. 

"Ju...eun...!" My manhood grew better and body felt tighter. Did the temperature rise? Sweat dripping down my pores and grabbing hold of her hair with my dominant hand. I was a ticking bomb and it felt like this blow was going to be bigger than the first. 

More slurps and erotic sounds came out of her, moments came and went where she took out my cock to lower her lips a bit to lather up my balls with her saliva before taking me fully again and again. She was waiting the seconds before the release, like she was preparing herself before the blow to swallow it all up.

"I'm gonna..." Words cut out, unable to finish. sucking in the air in my stomach and feeling like time stopped. Petrified like a mummy and feeling spurts of liquid leaving my body with each tick of time going by. "Uh...ah...!" 

Her mouth was full of it. It really was like what you thought of. White gunk escaped corners of her lips and making a mess all over her face. Jueun looked sweaty from the intensity of the actions. Hands on her lap as she was all skill with her fellatio. 

Was she going to just sit there and accept it? She wasn't done yet. With your duct open and in the middle of ejaculation, she kept sucking. My cock was just an udder Jueun kept milking as your body felt like it was on cloud nine. "Guh... bo-ss! Sucking too hard..." Stuttering out as you gulped down the next breath you took. Heart raced at a quicker rate as her lips left your cock. "ish good, righ?" Her pleading eyes wanted you to give her more and it looks like there were no breaks on the train of her sucking. "Fill m' mouf up more..." It was pretty amazing at how she could diligently swallow it all up. How lightheaded one man could become was all due to what she did. Your hand released the grip it once had on her hair. Giving the top of her head a few pats like a job well done while she kept licking him clean. Up and down, left and right. Spotless. The only thing covering your cock now was her saliva, if you didn't know any better. The sun illuminating from through the blinds made it shine out. "You're a good girl, Jueun. Thanks.." Catching your breath after having the wind knocked out of you felt good. Regaining consciousness from your limbs as her blowjobs fuelled a fire in your soul. If this was how meetings were going to be, I'd be sure to give her more top tier reviews if a repeated performance came out in the near future.

Making quick do of fixing yourself up. work slacks and shirt fitting back on as best as one could and tucking in the shirt to try to cover up that musky scent that lingered off from the abnormalities the two of you just did. 

As Jueun stepped back in her heels and back towards you, you could noticably see a small smirk on the corner of her lips. Not to think her expression was feigned or if this was the side effects from her controlling the situation, but you could confidently say that she was. 

"What were we talking about, exactly? Where were we?"  She spoke out with a merry-go-lucky attitude and brushing off the past half hour or whatever just happened.

"I don't know." No other words could express what you were thinking, mind still felt empty as you tried to figure out what she was thinking about. Lips quirked out from side to side as you just eyed the younger girl.

I just didn't get it. She seemed way beyond casual about this. I've lived a pretty well life and removed from all things mainstream of modern society. It felt like I just expected a culture shock of something way more extreme than anticipating. Not even prepared for this but moreso of failure of the company. 

Hedonistic, playful sex. Using her body as a toy and throwing it at me for a constant stream of sensual gratification. Perhaps such an uninhibited pleasure seeking person should be indulgently in the privilege of youth. Freedom didn't feel like it was going to be too free much too longer in the distant future. No matter how lightly she approached your boss-underling relationship. I need to prepare myself more in the future.

[nyxravessnow]

Review 2021 Kuromyu – Namashitsuji Secrets of the Public School Arc

Disclaimer: This is not an unbiased review so please proceed knowing that it is heavily opinionated.

2nd Disclaimer: I have never seen the anime or read the manga of Black Butler. All of my thoughts are based on comparisons to previous musicals and comments from fans about how accurate their portrayal is. I understand this may turn some people off my review which is understandable but I think an important thing for shows is how accessible they can be for people who don’t know the source material.

 FREE OF SPOILERS

Overall rating: 8/10

 Acting – 8/10

Music – 8/10 (I took an average of my song scores)

Ease of understanding – 8/10

Direction – 7/10

 Overall Summary:

I think the show was excellent and showed respect to the old shows but also did quite a few new things. All the scenes and songs had clear thought put into them and the acting showcased these things very well. It was not quite like what I expected it was going to be like but now that I’ve seen it, I can’t quite think of what I expected. I think if you like 2.5D or if you like Black Butler or the actors in this show then you will enjoy the show quite a lot. It is not exactly the same as before from every standpoint apart from it being Black Butler so I would say don’t go in expecting it to be just the same.

 I will move to a spoiler review under the cut but plainly, this show is very good and I think all the actors did a great job.

As I normally do I am going to give my thoughts on story, acting, songs and directing, then mention some extra stuff that I might think of at the end. I am sorry if I bring up the fact that I’m British and went to boarding school like my parents too much.

Story: The story was mostly pretty easy for me to follow, especially as a British person who knows about Cricket and boarding schools. I haven’t seen Campania so the dolls confused me a little at first but that is completely on me for not having seen the previous show. When watching I was very confused about what was going on towards the end but looking back on it that was mainly because of my migraine and not because it wasn’t clear. Scenes were set out well and the camera work was done in a way to make it very easy to follow along. But omg the cricket made me a little upset. It was super fun and all. But it was so inaccurate XD. I guess I now know the pain of people who like tennis when they watch the Prince of Tennis.

Acting: I am going to go actor by actor and give a rough overview of what I thought of them

Tateishi Toshiki as Sebastian Michaelis

I felt like we didn’t get a terribly demonic Sebastian in this show but otherwise I loved Toshi as Sebastian. He felt very elegant and reserved most of the time which contrast well with the times in which he was annoyed at Ciel. He wasn’t terribly present in a lot of the show but I did really enjoy him when he was on stage. His singing voice is excellent and I loved hearing him sing, will go into more about it later during the song summaries.

Konishi Eito as Ciel Phantomhive

I thought Eito was amazing as Ciel and he is my favourite Ciel so far. He showed Ciel’s switch between cute and normal so well and it really made me think about how good of an actor Ciel is. I don’t know how he did what he did to his voice but he makes himself sound like a young child with a slightly higher and scrapey voice than normal and it really makes you think that he is very young. I know many people were worried that they were casting an adult as Ciel because they wanted to sexualise him and this was not the case at all. He only showed any skin in the very first scene when in the cage and he had the sheet/robe-thing showing his shoulder. His singing voice is quite a lot mature than the previous two Ciels, for obvious reasons, and I think it really helped me enjoy his songs.

Okayama Ryousuke as Soma Asman Kadar

While I would still say I prefer Sho’s Soma, mainly bc Sho is one of my fav actors and I am biased, I really liked Ryousuke’s Soma. He was super energetic and friendly and really gave off this air of innocence as he believes Ciel’s reasoning for him to join Weston. His cricket was also very fun. His singing was pretty okay. I think this was as his singing suffered when he was trying to sing in Soma’s voice.

Ueda Kandai as Undertaker

I was honestly quite surprised how good Kandai was as Undertaker. I think his Undertaker voice got better as the show went on so I assume the reason it was less good at first was nerves. He wasn’t in it too much but I thoroughly enjoyed him in every scene he was in. I think I would love it if he learnt to sing in his Undertaker voice more but I also understand that is quite difficult so understand why he’s not doing that.

Sana Hiroki as Edgar Redmond

I thought he was very good as Edgar and carried the emotion needed for the more serious scenes, like the flashback about Derek, very well. He definitely emphasised the queerness of Edgar and had some rather flirtatious moments with Maurice and Joanne. However, despite being flirty and not seeming to be very serious, I completely bought it when he became serious and he played the shift very well (such as in the Maurice reveal scene). His singing voice is good.

Tazuru Shogo as Herman Greenhill

I thought Shogo was really good as Herman, even if it did feel like him playing a slightly nicer version of Sanada – his character from Prince of tennis. He was my 2nd fav of the four and I always enjoyed watching him in his scenes. He played the emotion in the Derek flashback amazingly and you could really see the pain in his eyes when he realised what he had done. His voice was really perfect for Herman.

Satonaka Masamichi as Lawrence Bluewer

I really loved Masa as Lawrence. I don’t know how accurate it is as he didn’t seem very sweet from what I read on his wiki page, but his Lawrence seemed quite tsundere. I loved his bit in the Cricket match when he was talking about wanting to win in his very last year. He also just seemed quite cute. I really enjoyed his singing.

Goto Dai as Gregory Violet

I LOVED Dai as Gregory. He definitely gave off the aura of being weird but he also seemed very sweet to Cheslock and the two actors had really good chemistry. He was really cute in his Cricket gear. He was by far my favourite of the prefects. Despite seeming cute and sweet to Cheslock he definitely retained the aura of mystery and you could never tell what he was thinking. His singing voice is pretty good but he didn’t have many solo bits.

Furuya Yamato as Clayton

While at the beginning I did get an intelligent stuck up vibe from Yamato as Clayton that kinda died away as the show went on and he became much more of a dork. I dunno how much of this is in character but to me it felt slightly like Yamato playing himself. As I think Yamato is an excellent actor, I was a little bit disappointed to see his character change quite a bit but I don’t know how much was him and how much was the direction. Since Yamato is known for comedy and his adlibbing I wouldn’t be surprised if this was actually just direction and the route they decided to go down for this character, hence why they scouted Yamato. I know his singing voice may not appeal to everyone, but I really like it.

Nakajima Takuto as Edward Midford

Takuto was very good as Edward and I think he played his straightforwardness quite well. I love Takuto but I don’t think Edward had much to do apart from the cricket which Takuto did very well. His singing voice is excellent.

Warning: Tsukasa is my favourite actor, and I am very biased

Taguchi Tsukasa as Maurice Cole

Tsukasa was AMAZING as Maurice. He played the changes in his character so well and even though he’s not a very nice person I felt really bad for him during his breakdown as Tsukasa’s scream was heart wrenching. When he was pretending, he felt so light and sweet and then when he was being his normal self he dropped down his voice and even changed his accent slightly as well as changing the way he would stand and walk. Ngl I was not paying too much attention to other people when he was in the scene and I don’t know if it’s just because I’m biased or because his command of the stage is that good but I really felt his stage presence. I loved the way he repeated 2 O’clock to Edgar and the others and how he mirrored the way he did it with Ciel and all the subtleties to his acting were great. He didn’t get to sing very much but he sounded really good.

Fukuzawa Yu as Cheslock

Apart from Tsukasa I think Yu was my favourite in this show. He brought so much energy to Cheslock and I don’t mean making the character energetic, just that he always has so much power and feeling behind his lines and he was so good and cool! He had good command of the stage and worked so well with Dai to be the one the stands out and the one that fades into the shadows. He mostly rapped so I don’t remember his singing voice very much.

Uchino Fuuto as Joanne Harcourt

Fuuto didn’t really stand out to me very much and I don’t think he had very much to do. His singing voice was pretty good.

Hayakawa Iori as Macmillan

He served his part in the story well and was very cute and energetic which I liked. He kinda reminded me of doll a little. His singing voice was pretty good.

Yamaguchi Kooki as Derek Arden

He wasn’t in very much of the show but he played his part very well and even though we got so little of him being unpleasant the way he played it made me hate Derek immediately. I don’t think he got any solo singing bits?

Takahashi Shunichi as Johann Agares

He filled his role very well. The most impressive thing was his falling from the stairs, I was very worried he was going to hurt himself, so I was really glad he was okay as he went from pretty high considering there were lower stairs. His singing voice was good.

Songs: I really love Yu(vague) the composer of the show and he is my favourite music composer. I think he did a really good job with the songs on the whole. I think he did well making them seem different and new yet familiar.

Opening song – 7/10

I think this song was a good opener. I wasn’t too sure about it at first, but it got better as the song went on. Toshi’s voice didn’t sound to be working with the song at first but since he sounded fine later, I think it was just his voice wavering at first from nerves so I’m excited to see what he’s like in the last show. I like how they did short recaps of the previous shows from Lycoris to Campania so the fans are caught up on what has happened, especially since it becomes important when Undertaker comes back with the dolls at the end.

2nd song, I think it’s called ‘It’s perfect black’ – 8/10

I really like this song. I think it is a nice scene setter and is very well sung by everyone. The dance works well and kinda brings Druitt’s dancing to mind with some of it. The song features the full cast and is effectively the Pawn and Sword song of this show.

Welcome to Weston song – 10/10

My first 10/10 song. I really love this song and I already can sing along to it. I love the prefects singing and that the others sing the chorus for them. (Also partly love it for its reprise but I’ll get to that later) I love how rigid and together it sounds. By that I mean that everyone is singing their lines as quite cutting and the harmonies are very crisp. Everyone is perfectly in time and there is no deviation. The rigidness shows the formality and tradition of the school which is reinforced by the students marching around the stage to get to the places. This is the case for everyone except the prefects who have more flowy lines and they walk a lot more freely showing the school’s hierarchy. I also love the prefects pushing Ciel around and surrounding him which foreshadows how he his treated.

Only Prefect Four – 9/10

I might be slightly biased as a Mankai stage fan as this song sounds so like a Mankai stage song but I love it so much. It would be 10/10 but I think their harmonies at the end could be a bit tighter. I think the soft and flowery and upbeat music works really well after the last song. Kinda indicating that the prefects live in a different world to the rest of the school which kinda serves as storytelling so that later when they’re so surprised by Derek’s actions it makes sense as they feel kinda separate from everyone else and it makes sense that they wouldn’t know what was going on in the rest of the school. I also love how they each get their solo bits which tell you stuff about the characters. Edgar’s dance is really reminiscent of Druitt which I really love. Herman’s music is a lot less flowy with a base note and the dance, using cricket bats, really gives off an image of strength. Lawrence’s mixes classical music into the instrumental and it has a more traditional feel. The dance involves a lot of stepping and stopping showing a formulaic approach rather than being flowy or strong. Gregory’s music has a grand feeling to it and it goes lower. Gregory doesn’t move much while Cheslock is doing some hip-hop dancing next to him. And instead of singing a solo section he talks about how he wants to go to bed.

Yes, my lord – 10/10

My favourite song in this show. It shows Ciel being told to do things and him passing his chores to Sebastian and Sebastian getting more and more annoyed with him, even breaking and calling him a brat at one point. The upbeat tone is quite fun and it works really well as a montage song. I like how it goes from Ciel saying ‘Yes, Clayton-senpai’ (senpai is a polite suffix for names of people who are higher up than you) to dropping senpai to just saying yes then turning to Sebastian. It really showcases brat Ciel.

Soma’s song – 10/10

His song is all about being Ciel’s friend and it’s really cute and energetic. The outfits from Soma’s song in Circus and brought back and it has a similar instrumental to his song there. He messes around a lot more in this song, though. Even though he is now much older than Sho was when he played Soma through this song he feels far more youthful through the more relaxed choreography and the energetic music.

Ominous prefect song – 9/10

This song is so cool. I really like the sharp shapes being projected onto the back with lilac light and the softly ominous instrumentals. (it comes right after Edgar mentions ‘the secret of what happened that day’). The vice-principal walking around at the back is really interesting as it looks like he is monitoring them. And the other students walking around with lanterns gives the song an almost supernatural feel. And then Undertaker peeking out from the back at the end gives a more direct hint of what is going on.

Nightmare, opening reprise – 8/10

This is just a reprise of the 1st song but I like it a bit better because it is shorter and the choreography of the cultists surrounding Ciel’s bed is really nice.

The Headmaster’s decision – 10/10

I like the fast pace of this song as Ciel runs around to ask about Derek and keeps just being told it was the headmaster’s decision. The students moving and singing together, then encircling him reinforces Ciel’s feeling like there’s a secret that everyone knows but isn’t telling him. I also like the use of Derek’s actor walking around the stage, always just beyond their sight from where they are.

Cricket song, last song of Act 1 – 6/10

This song is good it’s just not super enthralling. I think it’s probably the weakest pre-interval song out of the Kuromyus. At the beginning Sebastian and Ciel’s mics got really quiet for some reason and the instrumental was a bit louder than them. It’s a nice gentle and weirdly happy and hopeful instrumental which is a bit at odds with the past two ominous songs and I can’t decide if I like that or not. Also, I think the harmonies are a bit off so hopefully that will be better by the final performance. A lot of the singers sound like they have tension in their voices so I think they were all pretty anxious for this song. I do like the song and it might go up a bit if they can get the harmonies in the final show because they got almost none of them in this show. (The one that they did get sounded really good though)

INTERVAL

Cricket tournament – 9/10

While the previous song was also more upbeat than the ominous songs I don’t think it worked due to being directly afterwards, as the first song of Act 2 I quite like that’s it’s more energetic as it gets you hyped for the 2nd Act. This is the song that some Tenimyu, Prince of tennis musical, fans are saying was inspired by Tenimyu. And I will say, it was 100% inspired by Tenimyu XD. Yana-sensei is a fan of Prince of tennis and Shogo, Herman’s actor, was cast in a role very similar to his Prince of tennis role then the Green Lion section literally has lines that are exactly the same as lines from the team Shogo was in. Also, the music during their bit is actually somewhat reminiscent of the music that team normally has.

[Yu(vague) is so good at changing types of music during songs ahh, the Green Lion to Scarlett Fox transition is just so good.]

Honestly, this song would be a 7 or 8 out of 10 without the Violet Wolf part bc omg that part slaps so hard. Gregory and Cheslock high-five and the music just switches to electronic disco music and they rap most of their bit. I love it so much.

Sapphire Owl’s bit is cool too.

Scarlett vs Sapphire Cricket match – 6/10

It’s pretty good. Solid song but isn’t too exciting. Soma’s solo bit is really cute. Main thing letting it down is the ‘It’s cricket’ refrain that is in all three match songs. I was already done with it after like 30 seconds in this song and this song doesn’t have anything else lifting it above like the others do.

Violet vs Green Cricket match – 8/10

Cricket match as a rap battle. I dunno why Violet House became a rap house but I love it and I love Cheslock rapping about his awesome pitch. Then he and Herman having a rap battle is just so fun. I don’t know if this is as fun to Black Butler fans who know the characters a lot better or whether it would be uncomfortable but I had a blast in this song.

Sapphire vs Green Cricket match – 7/10

I really like the beginning instrumental and the short song bit at the very beginning of the song but the refrain hit again so it couldn’t go above a 7 for me.

Victory song – 6/10

Not a bad song but I don’t think the harmonies were there for this one and so I’m excited to see it in the last show again and hear if they improve.

Weston Reprise – 10/10

Oh my god I love this reprise so much. At first it sounds very like the original song then as the prefects slightly lose it as they realise what they have done it becomes more out of sync and the music quietens and it sounds more acapella and they sound slightly like they’re losing it due to the horror of what has happened. And the scratchiness of Gregory’s voice making it sound like he’s going to cry really reinforces that they are just children and they cannot deal with something like this.

Fight song – 7/10

I love the Undertaker taking Ciel to the side and staring at him crazily and singing at him. Again, I could hear Toshi’s nerves and I hope that he can sing the song better in the final show. I really love the Undertaker and Sebastian’s duet though and I think their voices sound really good together and I love the blood refrain in the song.

Finale song – 7/10

A pretty short but solid refrain of ‘It’s Perfect Black’

Direction: I thought the direction overall was pretty solid. There wasn’t anything really innovative attempted I don’t think but I didn’t really feel like there was anything lacking.

Overall: I really loved this show and look forward to seeing the final show and I think this show set up the new cast well for future shows.

Do I recommend buying the stream and DVD?

If you are a fan of 2.5D, any of these actors or Black Butler I really recommend trying to see this show. (The final show with be on 4th April on theatre-complex.jp and you can buy a ticket with just a vpn) While it is very different I feel like it was fairly faithful to its roots but is also trying to grow into something new.

Lastly: If you have any questions about the show, any parts, any songs or about any of the actors feel free to drop me an ask and let’s talk about it!

[libermachinae]

Lost Light/Rodimus

Notes: No, I don’t mean the crew. Unedited bc I’ve already spent way more time on this crack fic than I meant to. Rated G, no warnings apply, 2K.

---

It wasn’t Brainstorm’s fault, entirely.

“How the hell did you make a metrotitan spark?”

Just mostly.

“Well, it’s actually an extremely complicated, delicate, precise procedure,” Brainstorm said as they ran for their lives through shifting, narrowing corridors, Rodimus’ engine gunning to keep up with the jet. “It’s something other scientists have been trying to crack since before the war started, but between the exact measurements of the photonic supercrystal and the pattern of coding charges, no one else ever managed to—”

“Okay, forget how!” Rodimus shouted. “I don’t care about how! Or why! Or even at what point you decided to make a massive t-cog to go with it—”

“Actually, Perceptor cracked that one.”

“—or how you got it past Riptide and the rest of security! I don’t care!” A wall appeared front of them; Rodimus swerved around it while Brainstorm pulled into a neat roll. A wingtip brushed Rodimus’ roof. “Assuming we survive this any other way than First Aid scraping our pancaked frames off a random corridor wall, you’re going to tell the whole story to Megatron, and he can use all the practice he’s had with me to tell you exactly how terrible an idea this was.”

“Pancaked?”

“Earth term. Watch out!”

The hallway to the shuttle bay disappeared behind two shifting plates, and Rodimus had just enough time to brake and avoid being crushed. Brainstorm pulled up and transformed, landing at Rodimus’ side.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” he said.

“No kidding?” Rodimus angled his mirrors to look around, but every glance just revealed fewer directions to escape to. “We’re trapped.”

“Not that,” Brainstorm said. “We’re in the abdomen.”

“Belly of the ship, sure.”

“In root mode, the Lost Light’s power core is situated in the lower decks, under multiple layers of plating and insulation to keep the heat from frying everyone around it.” Brainstorm traced a small circle on the plating just underneath his cockpit, then drew it up, toward his chest. “When Perceptor was designing the transformation sequence, though, we couldn’t quite work out how to transport the core with all its extra plating. So, we just, hm, put a pin in it.”

Rodimus stared.

“So, what you’re saying is—”

Brainstorm pointed to the ceiling.

“The power core is one level above us right now. As soon as the transformation sequence is completed, it’s going to come online. The Lost Light’s designed to handle that kind of output, but not standard Cybertronians.”

“So, right now, this moment, we’re standing in the smelter, waiting for it to come on.”

“More like in front of the smelter after the blast doors have malfunctioned, but yeah.”

“Okay!” Rodimus revved his engine. “Well, that’s no good! We’re getting out of here.” He glanced around again. The walls were thick, but there had to be a weakness somewhere. “Don’t you have a drill gun? Or a drill you reformatted into a gun that can still be used as a drill?”

“I have a regular gun.”

“You do not.”

“I do!” Brainstorm insisted, pulling the standard issue pistol from subspace. “I was just about to see if I could do something about the problem of a finite ammo capacity (spoiler, I could’ve) when Light’s t-cog started spinning. I have others on me, but nothing that’s gotten the Perceptor stamp yet.”

“Everything else you’ve got will kill us if we fire it?”

“Might,” Brainstorm corrected, “they might kill you. Percy just hasn’t had time to test them yet.”

“Okay, fine.” Rodimus glanced around once more, optics falling on one feature he’d thus far overlooked. “You know what? We can work with this.”

  It’s a simple fact that if you’re desperate to have floor-to-ceiling windows along the vehicle-accessible corridors of your miles-wide spaceship, they’re going to need to be reinforced. Heavily. A full round of shots fired at point-blank from a non-infinite pistol might be enough to get a crack in it, but that’s about it.

Of course, if you then ram that crack with a Matrix-armored sports car dropped from the undercarriage of a speeding jet, you might get somewhere.

Rodimus hit the window bumper-first, vibrations from the impact traveling in both directions throughout his frame. Whatever he was feeling, though, the window was having a much worse time: the crack stretched and exploded, shards of glass whipping out into the empty density of space. Rodimus went with them, and for a brief second he feared he would never stop going, before strong arms and the sound of thrusters secured him.

::We’re alive!:: Brainstorm’s comm crackled to life in his audial. ::And assuming at least a couple people listened to Minimus’ instructions, we should be looking at a good—oh frag.::

::What? How bad is it?:: Rodimus tried to angle his mirrors, but two teal wings blocked his view.

::It’s fine! Don’t worry!::

::That’s my ship, Brainstorm, of course I’m going to worry!::

::It’s alright, Rodimus.::

::Who was—::

A white hand appeared in front of them, large enough that Rodimus could have done donuts on its palm, large enough to punch a moon clear through. Brainstorm’s thrusters were straining to slow them down while Rodimus’ emergency brake slammed on, but momentum seemed committed to mashing them like a reverse rustbug.

The hand shifted, flipping over so the palm was underneath Rodimus, scooping up until his tires were just skidding across the metal surface. Forgetting to release his brake, his swerved before he came to a stop, swinging around and taking in the full view of his ship as, with a final ripple, her plating shifted into place.

She glowed. From the fuel rods around the corona of her helm and the winding lanes of windows around her arms, legs, and sides, light streamed from her, but not so much that she hurt to look at. Her optic band was a solid magenta and, Rodimus suspected, unseeing, but even that gave off a light that drew the eye, even as Rodimus felt the increased pressure of the hand lifting them up. In their ascent, they passed her chestpiece, the bow of the ship, and through the viewscreen Rodimus saw a decent portion of his crew, staring back out at him.

They came to a halt in front of her faceplate, and from this distance Rodimus could see the wavering patterns of optical lights, perhaps attempting to generate an expression. Ratchet would demand a look at Perceptor’s coding, he thought, a moment before the Lost Light’s voice returned.

::Hello, Rodimus, Brainstorm.::

::You gave her a comm suite?:: Rodimus asked, glancing at Brainstorm.

::Didn’t you check the ident?:: Brainstorm returned. ::She’s using the communications hub.::

::Oh.:: He glanced at her again. ::Can you access all of our major systems like that?::

::Yes.::

::Cool. Neat.:: An independent Cybertronian with the ability to quantum jump. And they’d been doing so well staying off the bad side of this reality’s Galactic Council.

::Do you have a name?:: he asked.

The optic lights wavered, shifting without meaning.

::Of course,:: she said. ::Drift named me Lost Light.::

Rodimus spluttered.

::How do you know that?::

::I have complete access to all in-network records,:: she said. ::My ‘memories’ extend as far back as my registration five million years ago, though they become more comprehensive within the last several decades, starting with the commencement of your quest.::

::Anything anyone ever dispersed via in-house networks, saved to a private console, or was automatically logged by the systems is up for grabs,:: Brainstorm said. ::Makes introductions pretty simple, at least.::

::Sounds like a fancy way of saying she’s got the worst possible first impression of everyone, but sure, that’s an optimistic way of looking at it.:: Brainstorm had climbed off him, so he transformed and took two steps forward. ::I’m Rodimus, your co-captain. Though, you already seem to know that.::

::Yes. I know all of you.:: For a moment, Rodimus thought they were moving again, but it was the large helm tilting forward. ::Thank you, by the way, Brainstorm. Though I unfortunately agree with Minimus Ambus’ preliminary assessment of your actions, I do appreciate this opportunity to be alive.::

::Like creator, like creation, I guess!::

::Wait, you talked with Minimus?:: Rodimus asked.

::Of course. I’m speaking to everyone right now,:: Lost Light said. ::I’ve been looking forward to this.::

::Wow. You’re either going to be Swerve and Misfire’s missing trinemate, or their biggest competition.::

::I do not find either of those options appealing.::

::Oh, yeah, that’s fine!:: He waved his hands. ::Just a joke. You can do whatever you want, now, you’re your own bot. Well, within reason, I guess. We might need to make another new officer position for you, and then—::

::I will continue to perform my duties, Rodimus. You have no need to worry in that regard.::

::Oh, good.:: Rodimus’ spoiler sagged and a few bubbles of trapped air escape his vents. Brainstorm’s scheme hadn’t dehomed them, at least.

::If you wouldn’t mind hearing it, I do have a request.::

Rodimus’ spoiler twitched back up.

::Sure!:: he said. ::After everything we’ve put you through, we owe you, huh?::

::I would prefer you not consider it that way,:: she said. The connection crystalized and strengthened into a private transfer as Lost Light cleaved Brainstorm into his own channel. ::After reviewing the records, I find I admire you, Rodimus.::

He stared.

::Oh?::

::Despite what you call a poor first impression, I have observed a crew that cares for each other and looks after its most vulnerable, with you as the spark that inspires such communal behavior. You act for the good of others, you encourage selflessness and self-improvement. Does that sound correct?::

There was nothing to hide behind on the palm of her hand. That observation could not kill Rodimus’ instinct to flee.

::I, uh. I don’t know?::

A flicker around the optic band again.

::Oh. My apologies. I have only just started to engage in pattern recognition, and it is possible my assessment is—::

::It’s fine!:: Rodimus assured. ::Sorry, you did fine. Um, yeah, I guess you could say all those things about me. Not everyone would, but if that’s what the logs are telling you, you should trust your instincts. Maybe just like, make sure to update them with your own observations?::

::Acknowledged.:: There was a pause, and Rodimus imagined she was sorting the suggestion among her priority trees. ::I will maintain my assessments as an ongoing process. However, if I am utilizing my initial understanding of each crew member as a basis to form a more informed conception of their character, then it is logical to assume that there must be some element of validity to my initial evaluations, correct?::

::Uh, sure?::

::Excellent.:: Her whole visor brightened, a straightforward positive that must have been easier for her programming to calculate than the emotions it had been trying to convey before. ::Then it is not unreasonable for me to hold to my initial conviction that I admire you, Rodimus. If you have time, I would like to get to know you better.::

::Huh. Uh.:: He hated to make assumptions, but the way her visor sparkled seemed more coordinated now. ::Can you give me one moment?::

::Of course.::

He hopped into a channel so well worn it felt like sinking into his own thoughts.

::Rodimus? Are you okay?::

::I’m fine, Drift,:: he said. ::Just, uh, need some advice.::

::Just advice? Not a rescue? Rewind and Perceptor managed to map out a way down to the shuttle bay, if you need an out.::

::No, no,:: he insisted. ::I’m just… I really don’t want to assume anything, but I think it’s possible my ship just asked me out?::

::Oh, yeah.::

::Oh, yeah?::

::I mean, she did,:: Drift said. ::Before you and Brainstorm broke free, she commed everyone, introduced herself, told them her favorite thing she knew about them, then asked about you.::

::Do I… want to know what she asked about?::

::Depended on the person. Swerve got interrogated about whether you’re available.::

::Swerve?::

::The Lost Light Insider pegged him for a rumor monger and she ran with it.::

::Cool. Great.::

::Hey. Really, you okay up there? Tailgate’s halfway through the vents, we can come get you, if you need.::

Rodimus pointed his gaze down to the deck, though he was too far away to see anyone individually. It was possible the ship’s exterior cameras were still streaming to the command screens, in which case Drift would undoubtedly catch his disapproval.

::Please make sure Tailgate doesn’t get squished, I don’t need Cyclonus seeking vengeance against our ship.::

::Sure. But seriously, Rodimus, are you okay?::

Rodimus spun his wheels with a flick.

::I’m fine. I just… isn’t this, I don’t know, kind of taking advantage?::

::I mean, she asked you, and—wait, are you interested?::

His engine heated up and Rodimus started to pace.

::I don’t know! Maybe?::

::Aw, Rodimus!:: He could imagine Drift’s face: goofy smile, softly dimmed optics. ::Hang on, I’m patching Ratchet in.::

::No, hang on, you don’t have to—::

::You’re saying yes?:: Ratchet demanded as the new connection crackled through.

::I don’t know,:: Rodimus insisted. ::I could? She’s attractive. And she knows a lot about me and hasn’t decided I’m worthless slag.::

::Rodimus,:: Drift chided.

::Hey, look, I’m not saying that about myself,:: he countered. ::Just that it’s a conclusion she could have come to, but didn’t. And I guess I kind of like that?:: He shrugged. ::I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. First new Cybertronian we’ll meet for a long time, you know?::

::Sure,:: Ratchet said. ::Follow her lead, but be up front about your expectations.::

::Both of you will have bots looking out for you,:: Drift promised. ::Seems like she and Nautica are already hitting it off pretty well.::

::Alright.:: Rodimus smiled. ::Okay, thanks guys. I think I can handle it from here.::

::Sure you can,:: Drift said.

Rodimus cut the call and switched back to Lost Light’s channel. Brainstorm was wandering around behind him, still engaged in his own animated conversation with his creation.

::Still with me?:: he asked.

::Of course.::

::Great,:: he said, offering her a smile and a flicker of his headlights. ::So, yeah, I’m down to spend more time together.:: He leaned down until he was sitting, crosslegged, on her open palm, brushing the smooth metal with his own hand. ::You can tell me all about what it was like that time we were getting chased by space pirates.::

::I look forward to it,:: she said. The platform of her hand drifted closer, until Rodimus could have reached out and brushed his fingertips against his facemask. He could have felt afraid, then, but he didn’t. Instead, he felt a warm light in his spark as he regarded Light, the familiarity and comfort that came with meeting an old friend face to face for the first time.