#so cubicles and the lovers are sharing one

[fisheito]

finally listening to the h-scene audio after 1.5 years on mute

yakumo: gasps and whimpers in the whiniest brokenest way me:

[justaaveragereader]

Jokes On You

Pairing: Jongho x Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Switch!Jongho, ManEater!Reader, Spit, Oral, Clit Play, Recording The Deed, Jongho Thinks Reader Is A Virgin, Mentions Of Yunho, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung, Dirty Talk, Name Calling (Good Boy..), Pussy Whipped Jongho, If I Missed Anything…Lemme Know 👀👀

A/N: There is nothing I love more than a man eater woman, I swear it’s my favorite type of fics to read, also the Jongho brain rot I’ve been having lately? GOOD GAWDDD, this comeback has me ready to body slam him to the nearest surface. I want him to toss me around like a basketball😔, him in the MV?! Concept pics?! Almost tore my carpet to shreds trying to have some self restraint. So here is to all my Jongho lovers such as myself bc I love him some bad 😔🖤

Masterlist

All Ageless, Blank, and Bot Looking Blogs Will Be Blocked.

“Should’ve heard the way I had her screaming.” Wooyoung says through a cackle, kicking his feet upon Yeosangs thigh, who immediately kicks him off with a flick of his wrist.

“She was so loud, she thought she was staying the night too!” He says through a squeal, causing the five men sitting amongst him to laugh. Wooyoung was nothing short of quiet, his laugh carried a echo in the small lunch room. A quiet sneeze knocks them out of their convo, eyes darting to the sound. With a roll of his eyes, he sits up, elbows on the table eyeing your form. Oversized sweater hugging your body, glasses shoved close to your face, while you are nose deep into a book. Wooyoungs eyes twinkled with mischievous, a look all the men at the table knew too well. Being friends with Wooyoung was like dancing with the devil, while it was a luxury, to many it also has various downfalls.

“Wanna bet I can get her?” Wooyoung says, hands propped under his chin while he watches your every movement. With a roll of his eyes, Jongho immediately groans. Not that he was better than the man in front of him, no one was more competitive than Jongho, but playing with a girl who looked like she barely ever had been touched was over stepping a line for Jonghos morality. You looked like your version of a festive night, was crawling under a knitted blanket, curling around a good book. While Jongho had never been up close and personal with you, basing his judgements all off of physicality and assumptions. He couldn’t disagree with his morality, but with a pestering friend like Jung Wooyoung it was hard to prioritize that feeling of sensible morals.

“Bet you I can get her.” San says with a feline-like smile, eyes shutting in excitement. Another groan leaves Jonghos mouth. Yunhos ears perk up at this bet, with a shrug of his shoulders he places a bet as well. Leaving Yeosang and Jongho both silent, with a slight shove to his shoulder Yeosang side eyes Wooyoung agreeing to the bet against his will, leaving Jongho who is man spreading further and further into his seat practically trying to disappear.

“What’s in it for me?”

With a small snicker Wooyoung knows he’s got Jongho into the bet. Leaning his head in further, while all of their eyes dart to you taking in your form. Wooyoung explains the rules of the bet.

~

“So I was thinking we both could work on the 1117 project together, I know the boss doesn't like it when us as employees work alone.” Jongho says shyly while standing by your cubicle. He was always a bit of a shy guy, never sharing much unless it was with his friends. A small smile creeps onto your face, tugging your oversized sweater up, you try to insist that he didn’t need to help you. If he wanted to join the project that one of his friends were working on, that was fine. As you continued to talk, he starts to notice the small features on your face, practically zoning out. He has never been this close to you physically, or just in general. As he continues to stare at you, insisting that he helps you, eventually you come around to agreeing. Over the next two weeks you both began to get well acquainted with one another. Going from complete strangers to Jongho practically being whipped for you. You didn’t even have to fuck him, noy even a simple whiff out flash of your panties and by day five of the project Jongho was practically rolling out a red carpet for you every time you entered a room. So well acquainted he asked you out to dinner each night the second week, on the last day he insisted that he was a terrific cook and invited you to his home. Where things got heated so quick, what was supposed to be a fun meal you both were making in the kitchen, turned heated as you accidentally brushed against his boner while reaching up to grab a seasoning from his cabinet.

With his hand planted firmly on your hip, he shoves you back slightly, lips locking against one another. Tongue darting out to your bottom lip, you catching his plush lip, nipping at it slightly. Igniting a small moan from him, with no shame in the nosies he’s making, he pulls you from the counter, walking you backwards. With just a few kisses he looks like a love sick puppy, chest heaving with each soft touch of your lips. With a slight mumble against his lips he pulls away slightly trying to figure out what you are saying while his head is flooded with images of you bent over for him.

“Wh–what was that baby?” He says through a moan while your hand accidentally brushes against his cock again. With your hands firmly gripping his shirt you shyly stick your grinning face into his neck, placing soft kisses amongst his warm, reddened skin.

“I said..I’ve never done this before.” You say through a whisper before attaching your lips to the small beauty mark on his neck, leaving a red mark on his skin. His knees buckle at the feeling of your tongue darting back and forth on his skin. With a shaken moan, he grips your hip tighter. Muttering to you that it’s okay, he’s going to take it slow with you. What a fool.

~

The noise of his wet lips smacking against your skin fills the quiet room. Your lips tasted like cherries, while he was never a fan of sweet things, your lips tasted as addicting as sugar. The soft skin brushing against his own, each time you try to pull back he moves forward, lips aimlessly trying to find your own.

“Jo-Jongho..” you groan out, trying to back away so you can get some air. Blinking slowly he cracks open his eyes, his chest heavily panting. Sweat running down his temple. Feeling like he had ran miles in just the mere minutes of you both making out, he sits back a little bit running a hand through his damp hair. His gummy smile on display while he whispers out small apologies. Not too sure what’s gotten into him. Your scent alone had him ready to scale the walls of his bedroom, with a flash of his smile again, you stand up, positioning yourself right in between his legs, hard on straining against his slacks. Twitching slightly as you rake your nails down his clothed shoulders, a shuttered breath leaves his throat. You can tell he’s reacting to you based on the goosebumps that pool around his neckline. A small whimper leaves this throat, head falling forward to bump against your lower belly, taking in a deep breath as your scent evades all his senses. He was whipped for you without even being in you, how was he supposed to win the bet if small actions had him ready to combust. Was it even a bet anymore? Could it be magic? Or was he just truly this down bad.

Your fingers fall slowly to the top buttons on his shirt, plucking them slowly open one by one. His grip on your hips tighten with each button that is popped open. Quiet groans leaving his reddened lips with each movement. His hands begin to inch their way under your blouse, the loose fabric moving with each shift of his hands. The calluses on them have you letting out a soft moan, his rough skin scraping against your warm soft flesh. Leaning his head fully into the softness of your stomach, he hurries to pull your blouse off of you. Nose diving into the softness, inhaling your scent deeper, he was addicted to you in every way possible, your hands came up to pet his head, raking your nails against his scalp softly. Instantaneously he melts into putty, his body doing a noticeable shiver once more with goosebumps. Bringing a finger under his chin you lift his head up, with his chin planted firmly against your belly button, his eyes are swooning with hearts already.

“Jongho..be a good boy and treat me right.” You say, voice as smooth as silk, rubbing in each of his earlobes. You see that small flame in his eyes burst with heat. Immediately he stands up pushing you softly on the bed. Your back hitting his pillows with a soft thud. Shimmying out of your pants with the aid of him snatching the fabric by the ankles. Your clothed cunt comes into his sight, his head snaps back at what he sees before him. Your slickened cunt sticking to the fabric of your panties. The white material is practically see thru as your arousal is dripping out of you. The aroma of your pussy fills his senses, eyes practically rolling into the back of the head. His knees hit the bed with a soft thump, hungry movements as he swiftly makes way towards your cunt. Inhaling the fabric deeply, a loud grunt leaves his lips. As he begins to tongue down the fabric, sucking the juices off the crotch part of your panties, moistening the fabric even further. Tongue mopping up as much as he can.

“Fu-Fuck…” he stutters out, your sweet juices all over his tastebuds in the right way. He wanted you more than ever, fuck the stupid bet, fuck Wooyoung and everyone else at the table. He couldn’t let you or this pussy slide away from him. Just the mere thought of one of them touching your flawless skin, irritates him beyond measure. The wet licks and sucks he was giving to your panties winds up into small nips and bites leaving you on edge and breathless. Your hand comes to the top of his head, brushing through his hair once more, nails raking against his scalp again. The whine that leaves his throat has you clenching around nothing. Muttering a small fuck..he brings his hips into the bed, his hard cock in the confinements of his pants. With one hand resting on the inner meat of your thigh, he snakes his hand down to free his cock, as it comes into view, having to strain your neck to see. The flushed red tip that’s just oozing with loads of white beads of precum has your own mouth moistening.

As your eyes dance from his hand that is tightly wrapped around his cock now, his precum aiding him in smooth pumps. He begins to move your panties to the side getting a eye full of your wet cunt, dripping from your arousal mixed with his spit, stuttering his hips into the bed, crushing his hand into the mattress he wastes no time letting go of his neglected cock to dive into your pussy. One hand props your leg up on his shoulder, making it easier to get deeper into your cunt. The soft licks that once were happening turn into him ravishing your pussy. Kitten clicks to your puffy clit that is throbbing with need, to him sticking his tongue as far as he can get it into your pussy. His mouth practically suctions to your cunt. Your foot propped on his shoulder while he’s getting drunk on your sopping wet pussy, a hand wrapped in his dark locks. You are seeing stars, in the back of your mind you are on a mission, one you haven’t forgotten about. Pulling your phone from under his pillow you quickly set your phone to record. The sloppily noises fill the speakers on your phone, with his eyes shut in bliss, he’s practically making out with your pussy. Going as far as shaking his head back and forth with your clit engulfed in his mouth, the curve of his button nose bumps against your clit with each thrash of his head. Its truly a toss up between your low soft moans, and the sloppy squelching noises your cunt is producing, both are in a race to see who can be the loudest. With your foot propped on his shoulder like you were a goddess, one he was doing and everything to please. Ending the clip as fast as possible as you can feel your orgasm creeping up, with a quick toss of your phone, your hands plunge in his hair again. Pulling at the strands.

“Fu–Fuck..Jongho that feels so good.” You moan out breathlessly, a hiccup in your throat as you call out to the man below you. Collecting the saliva that’s running down his chin, he plunges two fingers into your cunt, the warm wet walls immediately clamp down on his digits. Fuck, he was going to be the death of you. As he curls his finger in a ‘come here’ motion, pressing against that spongy spot, your knees begin to buckle, trying your best to shut your legs around his head, yet you are unsuccessful as he keeps a firm hand on the plush meat of your thigh. With a swift suck to your throbbing clit, he sticks out the tip of his tongue, flicking your throbbing button back and forth. With one swift movement of his fingers you are shouting his name like a mantra, trying to shove his head away as your juices fly out of your squelching pussy, smacking him in his mouth that he has wide open. Drinking you down like he was deprived of any liquids his whole life, as your back arches off of the bed, your grip on his hair tightens, pulling his face closer to your cunt as you continue to squirt on his face. His fingers slow down their movement, slipping out of your hole. With a deep breath you fall back against his pillows, body exhausted from such an intense orgasm.

“Fuck…Jongho.” You whisper out, eyes shut tightly, as sweat begins to drip down your back. As he watches your chest rise and fall. He sits up on the bed, his cock covered in his own cum, peeking one eye open as your breathing slows down. You run your foot up his pants leg, stopping just right below where his wet cock is rested. Eyeing the pool of cum on the bed you let out a tsk noise. Bringing your fingers up you beckon him to come to you, eyes low and hazy fresh off of your orgasm. He follows your call aimlessly like a moth to the light, wanting to deep dive into you even more than what he was just awarded with. With a deep grin on your face you knew he was going to be in for a long night.

~

Jongho waits at the lunch table, legs bouncing with anxiousness, wanting to show the other members what exactly it is that he accomplished over the weekend, as each one of them file in he bites his lower lip with excitement. Wanting to show them this was no longer a bet, he has broken the number one rule Wooyoung had, no feelings. All seated, they set their lunches on the table, each one of them side eyed the other with a smirk on their face. On cue they all pull out their phones, quickly whipping it out to see the thumbnail of your naked arched back. Each of the members looked at each other, eyes once that were shining bright with victory slowly filled with jealousy, disbelief, and most of all disappointment. With a loud tsk Wooyoung sits back, veins filled with annoyance as he begins to mutter to himself.

“Well I’ll be damned..” Yeosang says through a laugh, locking his phone and tucking it away. Yunho is doubling over with a wheeze at Wooyoungs disappointed face, kicking Yunhos foot under the lunch table.

“I can’t believe this..” Jongho mutters out quietly, just as they all begin to mutter amongst one another, about what day they fucked you, how it started, trying to get to the bottom of who did what. When a small gleam catches Jonghos eye, the small shine from your silver necklace catches the bright white lights in the lunchroom. Nose deep in your phone when all of their phones go off at once, eyebrows raising, seeing all of them have been added to a group chat. Five individual videos of them load in. The thumbnail? Them face first, nose deep into your cunt, your hand firmly grasping their hair, with your left foot perched up on their shoulder. Standing at the head supervisor's lunch table with a wide grin on your face you take a seat in between them. Leg crossing over one another as you lean back, who said you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too?

Leaning over you whisper something to Seonghwa, repeating the same action to Hongjoong who looked annoyed, both of them hand you a hundred dollars each. As you kiss both of them on their cheeks you stand up, making your way out of the lunchroom.

“She made her own bet..?” San says in disbelief, his face tinting red with embarrassment. With a slight shake to his head, he can’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief, joining San I’m feeling embarrassed. Jongho was a lot of things but this was the first time he had been a fool..

“She was two steps ahead..”

DO NOT REPOST.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Touch Me I'm Going to Scream

Seungcheol and Y/N have never been friends. Never, not even when they started training at their new jobs on the same day. They’re competitive and they love to correct each other’s work in a brutal fashion. That’s what keeps them at work late one Thursday night.

Pairing: Seungcheol x female reader

Genres: enemies to lovers, smut, office au

Word count: 5k

TW/CW: MDNI, this contains explicit smut and no mention of protection. If you have some claustrophobia, this one might not be for you.

Y/N hates Choi Seungcheol. That’s the only explanation for why her head feels like it’s about to burst. She hates him for how massive his ego is. She hates him for how smug he is everytime he can one-up her. And she hates how she can’t read his fucking handwriting. 

That’s the biggest thing right now. The report he’s slapped onto her keyboard is redlined brutally, but she can’t make out a single word of what he’s written in the margins. It’s like he does it on purpose when he’s assigned to proof-reading something for her. His handwriting is perfectly legible on a whiteboard when it’s his turn to lead team meetings.

He’s already plopping back into his chair to continue spinning his pen between his fingers. That’s what he was doing before Y/N had slapped the report draft on his desk thirty minutes ago. While he was bleeding all over this report, she was busy working on another one. For some reason, her workload was more than his this week, as it often is. 

Y/N throws the report back down on her desk tempermentally, glaring at him cross the double cubicle. “You could at least make it legible. I don’t know what the fuck any of this says, Seungcheol.”

“We’ve worked together for four years, Y/N. You should know how to read it by now,” he replies boredly, not even bothering to turn his chair to face her. But she can see the smirk in his profile. Ugh.

Y/N huffs, rubbing her tired eyes. Her makeup is long gone, save few for a few crusts of mascara. It’s nearly 10pm and the two reports that have been cycled between them are due tomorrow, along with a presentation. Which reminds her. She whips around to him. “The least you could do is start the slide deck. The finalized graphics are in the shared folder.”

“Slide deck is pretty much done,” he says, still sounding bored. “Just waiting on you to fix your wording so I can add it to the slides.”

Y/N resists the urge to bang her head against the keyboard. It would do as much good as trying to understand his handwriting. But she refuses to ask him for help. She only asks him to markup and review things for her because it’s part of his job description, same as hers. 

They’re both junior team leads for their department. The company’s structure attracted her initially when she accepted the role. Each department has a senior team lead, but this senior team lead is supposed to hand down assignments for the juniors to deliver. There are two of them because they believe in learning through collaboration here. 

She liked the idea until she met Seungcheol on her first day. His competitiveness killed any sense of teamwork. 

Y/N puts on her glasses and squints at the paper, making the edits that she believes make sense. She knows he’s not dumb, far from it. If he’s marked something up, that means it needs some attention. She just doesn’t always know what kind of attention, so she guesses. 

With some satisfaction, Y/N slaps the report fresh off the printer onto Seungcheol’s desk. She walks away before she smacks him when he grins, “So you can read.”

“But you can’t write. Work on that so I can bleed all over your report next time.” 

“But you’re so good at it. That’s why you get stuck with so many reports and I get stuck with all the slide decks and presentations.” 

The comment burns her up inside. She must not be so good at it if he bleeds all over the pages everytime she hands him something to review. And the slide decks and presenations are a sore spot for her. He’s far better at public speaking than she is, but everytime they step foot in the conference room, it looks like Seungcheol’s done all of the work. She doesn’t reply to him and she hears the pen click behind her. 

When he hands it back to her, there are only a few markups, and those have blessedly legible notes. Maybe he’s in a rush to get out of here. She makes the edits quickly and prints the copies for the meeting tomorrow. She’s done asking him to review it. It’s gone through three editing cyles and it will be never be perfect enough for him, but it’s nearly midnight now. She opens the slide deck as soon as he drops it into the shared folder, and a single flip through has her shrugging. Good enough. This is his part of the job anyway.

Without any announcement, they stand up at the same time, gathering their things. Despite their constant arguing, they do have a system and can read each other after four years. Y/N rushes to the elevator, pressing the button. Seungcheol strolls leisurely behind her. “Hot date or something?” He teases. 

“More like a hot bath,” Y/N huffs. “What the hell kind of date would start at midnight?” Seungcheol gives her a suggestive look and she scoffs. “I see. Go have fun with that.”

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. They step in and Seungcheol presses the button for the first floor lobby. The doors slide closed and Y/N is so tired that the little vibration of the elevator gliding down nearly puts her to sleep standing up, kind of like a car ride would. 

Until it lurches violently to a stop. Y/N grips the railing and curses, wide awake again. They’re on the 8th floor, not the first. And the doors don’t open. 

“What the fuck?” Seungcheol hisses, stabbing at the button for the first floor. When it does nothing, he stabs at the buttons for any other floor. He sighs, glancing over at Y/N. “Stairs it is.” He peels back the doors and… there’s a wall. They’re stuck somewhere between the 7th and 8th floor.

He’s cursing loudly now and Y/N has put her head in her hands. “Security should still be here,” he mumbles, stabbing at the alarm button a few times. The blaring is short and shrill and when he steps back they wait in silence. But Seungcheol’s impatient. Minutes pass and he periodically presses the button. Nothing.

Next, he presses the emergency call button. A dial tone rings in the small speaker on the panel. It rings, and rings, and rings. When they hear a robotic ‘Disconnected’, they both curse. Y/N pulls out her phone. Their swearing is becoming creative because neither of them have signal. 

“Might as well get comfortable,” Y/N sighs. Seungcheol doesn’t listen, repeatedly trying the alarm and call buttons. 

~

It’s nearly 1am and they’re both sitting on the floor of the elevator, facing each other with their legs stretched out. “This is your fault,” Y/N mutters in the silence. 

Seungcheol’s head snaps up from the metal wall, pinning her with a glare. “My fault? Write a good fucking report and we wouldn’t have been here all night.”

“The report was fine. What kept us here so late was you bleeding all over my pages,” Y/N said, monotone. This is an old argument and she can’t find the usual energy to give to it. Normally, she gets fired up as soon as he opens his mouth, but she’s exhaused.

Seungcheol scoffs. “As if you haven’t ripped apart my slide decks before.”

“That was deserved. You slapped some graphics on it that made no sense. And who leaves the background plain and white? Pick a fucking theme, there are hundreds to choose from,” Y/N finds herself heating, despite her tiredness. 

“I told you, it distracts from the graphics,” Seungcheol cries, standing up to pace the small space. He’s been a pacer since day one. It’s something he can’t help it when they argue.

“It’s lazy. Pick anything but white and move on. Or better yet, use the template the media departement constantly asks us to use,” Y/N is standing too now. She doesn’t like that he can hover over her. She still has to look up at him when she’s standing, but it’s better than the looming he can do if she’s still sitting down.

“Nothing is ever good enough for you,” Seungcheol hisses.

“It isn’t for you either,” Y/N bites, getting into his face to stab a finger into his chest. “How many red fucking pens have you gone through in four years? And then you turn around in the presentation that I gave you the content for and give me no credit.”

“What are you talking about?” Seungcheol raises his voice. “Your name is always right there next to mine. Get up and present it yourself tomorrow if you want all the credit so badly.”

“What? So you can ream me out later for how poorly I did? No thanks.”

He’s closing in on her, crowding her space, fuming. She backs up into the elevator wall only because she has nowhere else to go. But she’s not scared of him, never has been. She’s angry. 

“Try not to stutter in front of the entire board then,” Seungcheol shouts. “You’re supposed to be the fucking expert, so act like it and say literally anything with some confidence.”

“We’re both supposed to be experts, Seungcheol! We have the same title and job description. Yet I’m stuck with all the grunt work so you can waltz into the conference room, throw up a slide deck, and dazzle them with your charm.” She’s stabbing him in the chest again with her finger. 

“Then get some fucking charm, Y/N. Stop blaming me for that,” Seungcheol hisses, face close to hers. 

She glares back at him. “I hate you so much.”

The words seem to make his eyes harder. “The feeling’s mutual.” Then his lips are slamming into her. His hands find her hips roughly and Y/N’s hand find his tie, tugging hard. He folds to her height, hands groping fast. Her waist, her back, her breasts, her ass. His hands fly to the buttons of her shirt and she smacks them away, pushing him back hard. 

“Don’t you dare rip it,” Y/N scolds, her fingers loosening the top buttons. 

His fingers smack hers away this time and he’s quickly unbuttoning them down to her stomach.”You’re too slow,” he scolds back against her lips, hands tugging the material out of her skirt. 

When his hands land on her bare stomach, she hisses and wants to smack him at how satisfied he looks at the sound. “Don’t get cocky yet. I doubt you’ll be able to make me come.”

Something shifts in his eyes. He’s still angry, but he likes the challenge. “I’ll make you eat your words.” He spins her to face the metal wall, but her whole body isn’t there for long. His hands roughly tug out her hips, leaving her upper body against the cool metal. He’s shimmying up her tight skirt and she can barely adjust to the chill before a hard smack lands on one of her ass. A gasp flies out of her mouth and she hates how wet she is already. His hand gropes at the reddened spot, repeating the process a few times. He leans in close to her ear. “Still think I can’t do it?”

Y/N tastes blood from how hard she’s biting her tongue. “Yes,” she hisses. 

He releases a dark chuckle, and his hands are crawling across her body. He pushes her hair to the side, burying his face in her neck. The kisses and love bites are a distraction as he pulls her upperbody away to shove her bra up, roughly groping her breast and rolling her nipple between his fingers. She’s already keening when his other hand slides between her legs. He doesn’t hesitate to pull the string of the thong to the side and bury two fingers in her heat immediately. The intrusion makes her cry out and he’s chuckling into her neck again.

“For someone who hates me, you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he says patronizingly. 

“Still hate you, but your hands and mouth aren’t bad,” Y/N bites but it’s losing any strength she had before. His fingers are pumping fast and the fingers on her nipple have her mind scrambling. She struggles to keep her reactions under control because she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He sucks on her neck, surely leaving a mark, but she doesn’t stop him because the feeling has her clenching on his fingers. “I offer more than my hands and mouth, but you’ll have to be a good girl and come on my fingers first before you can find out.”

Y/N wants to be strong. She’s determined not to let him have so much power of her body, but his hand slides from her breast to her neck, gripping lightly. She clenches hard at the touch and he’s kissing her cheek patronizingly. “Sweetheart, I had no idea you liked it like this. We could have been doing this for the last four years?” His fingers flex against her neck as the ones inside her curl, making her eyes roll back a bit. “All the late nights here over the years that I could have taken you on your desk after everyone left? Or have you on your knees for me? All the missed opportunities.” His lips find hers and it’s shockingly soft compared to what his hands are doing to her body. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers.” 

She hates how everything about him makes her shake, orgasm slamming into her. He’s groaning into her ear, hand tightening around her throat. His fingers keep a brutal pace inside of her until she’s hurtling towards another orgasm before really recovering from the first one. It makes tears prick her eyes when she comes again and he sees them. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry just yet. You haven’t even had my cock yet.” 

He’s pulling away from her and she clings to the railing on unsteady legs. He grabs her hips, hands still rough as he turns her around. He lowers to his knees in front of her and her eyes widen. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because he’s yanking her thong down her legs, helping her out of it. Then he’s throwing one of her legs over his shoulders. “Seungcheol, what are you -“ Her question cuts off with a gasp as his tongue laps at her intently. She’s already so sensitive that it makes her whole body jerk. She grips the railing with one hand and and the other flies to his hair, gripping the locks hard. But she knows he’s doing most of the work holding her up. 

Three fingers are sliding into her and she can barely wrap her head around the stretch before he’s lapping at her clit. The intensity makes her climb fast, coming hard again. He doesn’t pull away and she realizes he’s going for another one. She yanks his head back hard by the hair. “No. Fuck me now.”

He’s smirking hard at the demand as he tosses her leg off his shoulder, standing up. When he kisses her and she can taste herself on him and it makes her clumsily reach for his belt, ripping it open. He lets her, still smirking against her lips. 

Y/N smirks at him instead when her hand wraps around his cock, because he’s gasping softly against her lips. “Sweetheart, for someone who hates me, you’re pretty hard.” The fire in his eyes is back when she throws his words back at him and Y/N is glad to see it. It means she’s getting under his skin just as much he gets under hers. “I thought you said you’d have me crying on your cock. Was that all talk?”

“You drive me insane,” he grates, voice deep and scratchy. His hands are roughly turning her again, pushing her to her previous position, upper body pressed against the cool metal wall and lower body pulled out, back arched. He kicks her legs apart and his cock presses into the plush of her ass. “You talk too fucking much.” He grips his cock, sliding the head of it into her folds repeatedly and it has her sighing. “Dripping like a faucet for some one you hate. Letting someone you hate make you come over and over. All but demanding for someone you hate to fuck you. Make up your mind, sweetheart. Do you really hate me?” The head of his cock notches into her opening and the stretch is teasing.

Y/N glares over her shoulder. “Yes. Now change my mind.”

He slams into her and she cries out loudly. He sits deep inside her and stays there. There’s something sweet about how his hand brushes back her hair and he kisses her cheek, like he’s letting her adjust for a second. But then he opens his mouth. “Beg for it.”

“No way,” Y/N spits in his face. “Your ego is way too big already.”

“We have all night, sweetheart,” he coos. “Security doesn’t show up until 6am. I can stand here all night inside of you if I have to.” His hand creeps up to her her breast, teasing lighly, refusing to give her any of the impact she craves. She squirms in his arms and he’s chuckling again, holding her still. “Come on, Y/N. I’ll give you exactly what you want, but all you have to do is say please.” He presses light kisses to her neck.

Y/N huffs. “Why do you always have to win? Why can’t you ever let me have what I want?” 

“I’m selfish when it comes to you,” he mutters into her ear. “You drive me up the wall. You’re so fucking beautfiul, but you open your mouth and tell me how much you hate me. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to resist you for the last four years?” He’s smirking against her skin because he can feel how she clenches at his words. “Maybe you do. I’ve seen how you squeeze your legs together sometimes and squirm in your seat when I come over to your desk. Tell me, were you wet all of those times, even when I didn’t touch you?”

He’s right and she can taste blood in her mouth again from biting her tongue. The smell of his cologne lingering behind her is enough any day. He keeps going, hand skating around to lay flat across her stomach. “It’s okay if it did. You make me rock hard at the most inconvenient times. I’ve thought about bending you over my desk at least a dozen times.” Another gentle press of his lips to her cheek. “Would you like that? Me pounding your cute little cunt?”

“I don’t know. Try it out and I’ll let you know,” Y/N bites. She feels his fingers flex against her stomach at the dare. “I won’t be begging until you make me.”

“Such a smart mouth,” he tsks. “Have it your way.” He slides out of her and her head falls back at the drag against her walls. Then he’s slamming back into her, the force making her bump back into the wall. His fingers crawl into her hair, tugging her head back. His pace is hard and fast and it has her seeing stars. There’s a bit of an ego boost for her in how he’s groaning into her ear loudly. “Fuck, can’t believe I waited this long. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The words have her clenching hard around him and he hums in her ear. “Like when I talk nicely to you? Not used to it?”

Y/N doesn’t really have an answer for him because she doesn’t know how to take anything he’s doing right now. The feeling of him hitting her cervix is overwhelming and the praise makes her chest warm. “You look sweet when you aren’t mouthing off to me. I'll give you whatever you want as long as you look like this. Just tell me.”

“More,” Y/N mumbles weakly. He doesn’t comment on how that’s dangerously close ot begging, but instead speeds up to a nearly impossible pace. It has her crying out, tears rushing out of her eyes. He cranks her head to face his again, gripping her throat tight. “Fingers.” This one is another plea disguised as a demand, and the hand on her stomach starts sliding down but she shakes her head rapidly, grabbing at the hand on her throat. She takes two of his fingers into her mouth and he’s groaning loudly now, curses echoing against the walls. His fingers press into her mouth roughly and she gags a bit, but it’s exactly what she needs to fall over the edge, coming harder than she ever has. Her mouth falls open and it makes the orgasm drag out even more that he doesn’t remove his fingers right away. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Can I come inside of you, sweetheart? Please?”

She’s coming again at his desparate tone, but not before saying ‘yes’ around his fingers. As abruptly as he started earlier, he halts deep inside of her, fingers popping out of her mouth to grip her shoulder and pressing his face into her neck with a broken moan. They stay like that for a long time, trying to catch their breath. When he finally pulls out, Y/N can’t help a whimper and he gives a soft apology. He gently turns her, redressing her with care. He guides the thong back up her legs into place, and flips her wrinkled skirt back down, doing his best to smooth out the material. Then his fingers deftly button her shirt back up, helping her tuck the edges back in. 

The gentle touches make her eyes leak again and she wipes them away, smoothing down her hair. He’s watching her with an expression that she doesn’t understand because she’s never seen it before. It unnerves her because this is the sobering moment that she realizes what they’ve just done. 

Rather than thinking about it, she reaches out to zip and button his pants, then buckling the belt back up. Then she’s smoothing down the wrinkles in his shirt and tie and straightening his hair up. He lets her. 

~

It’s 4am when they try the alarm and call buttons again. Just like before, there’s no response and they come to terms with the fact that they’ll have to wait until security comes in at 6am. So Seungcheol and Y/N sit next to each other against the metal wall, shoulders touching. She’s been dozing off against him when he speaks up, breaking the silence. “I don’t hate you.”

Y/N feels herself tense, slowly raising her head to look at him. He’s got his eyes closed. “You don’t?”

“No,” he sighs. “You seemed to hate me right off the bat when we started here. We were already fighting on our second day. I didn’t know what I did, and eventually it just made me mad. But I don’t hate you. I never did.”

Y/N smiles a little, looking away from him as she leans her head back to match his pose. “I don’t hate you either. You frustrate me to no end, particularly because of how our work is divided, but I don’t hate you.”

It sounds like Seungcheol starts to say something, but there’s suddenly yelling outside of the elevator shaft. A few minutes later, they’re stepping out of the elevator on the 7th floor to face a very apologetic technician. “My damn phone died,” he said lamely. “I hope you guys weren’t here for too long.” He seems to know the answer already, but Seungcheol and Y/N shrug and wish him a good night, or rather a good morning. 

They’re parked a couple spots from one another in the lot and Seungcheol simply tells her to get home safe. He waits for her to pull out onto the road before he backs out of his spot. 

~

9am comes early. Y/N rushes into the office to throw her stuff into her cubicle and grab the reports on the corner of her desk. Seungcheol’s computer is locked but still lit up, so he must already be here. She finds him in the conference room, schmoozing the execs that they’re presenting to today. No one really acknowledges her as she takes a seat off to the side, pulling out her notepad. 

Seungcheol glances at his watch during a lapse in conversation. “Let’s get started. I’m sure all of you have busy schedules.” 

Y/N glances at the slide deck that was built last night and a small change catches her eye. Report and content by Lee Y/N. Presentation by Choi Seungcheol. He’s making a joke about forgiving him if he looks a little tired because he spent half the night stuck in the elevator, but she barely hears the chuckles becaue she’s blinking back tears. He gave her credit.

Blessedly, the exec team has very few questions following the presentation and compliments her report while looking directly at her. Back at her desk, she falls into her chair, sighing. She’s squinting with tired eyes to read her email when a mug is placed in front of her. Seungcheol simply says, “A little cream and three sugars.” Her eyes follow him as he walks to his side of the double cubicle and sits down, logging into his computer. 

She wants to say something to him - about the change to the slide deck, or the fact that she didn’t know he knew how she took her coffee, or about last night in the elevator, but her phone rings and they’re being called into another meeting. Seungcheol makes sure she takes her coffee with her.

~

Seungcheol waits for her to gather her things right at 5pm. They pass by the elevator bay without a word and head to the stairwell. Somewhere around the 5th floor, Seungcheol turns to her. “Hot date tonight?” His tone is a little teasing.

Y/N scoffs. “Yeah, that hot bath that I didn’t get to have last night. My rushed shower this morning didn’t cut it.” Seungcheol chuckles. “What about you? Hot date tonight?”

“Not unless it’s with you.”

She nearly misses a step and his hand flies out to her waist to steady her. They’ve stopped somewhere between the 4th and 5th floor. “What?” He’s standing on the step below her and they’re basiclaly eye to eye. She’s perplexed when he looks a little sheepish.

“I would have asked you on our first day four years ago, but you were mean to me.”

She shoves at his shoulder and he barely moves. “You were mean first.”

Seungcheol laughs. “Maybe,” he admits, both hands holding her waist. “What do you think? Do you still hate me too much to go on a date with me right now?”

Y/N laughs too. “No, I think I might even like you a little bit now.”

[purintarts]

Doctors aren't always smart | ZAYNE | LnD

"...So many doctors here. This should be the most safest place if somebody gets injured or something," I muttered.

"It is even better if nobody gets hurt - especially the lady accompanying me," Zayne whispered into my ear as he takes my hand to lead me inside.

Zayne invited me to the Annual Linkon Doctor's Banquet. Doctors all across Linkon's hospitals are here.

It's a good place for medical personnels to connect with each other and they are allowed to bring a guest. Some were bringing their spouses, others brought their apprentice, or just another doctor friend from other cities.

It's a great place to learn from each other and - ehem - job oppourtunities.

"Dr Zayne! I finally get to meet you after a whole year!" a man around Zayne's age greets him.

"Dr Hale, it's been a while," Zayne greets him with a handshake.

They share a curt pleasant greetings before Dr Hale turned to me.

"And who might this beautiful lady be?"

Zayne places his hand on my waist as he introduces me.

"This is MC, my lover"

"It's nice to meet you Dr Hale," I smiled.

"Nice to meet you too, what do you do MC?" Dr Hale smiles at me.

"I am a Hunter"

What is just me? It seems like Dr Hale's smile dropped slightly. I saw his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

To those who do not have a keen eye, they would not notice that momentarily switch as he expertly changed his facial expression back.

"...I see. Physical job"

Dr Hale took his eyes off me and went back to talk to Zayne about medical topics.

"????? interventricular septum ???? precision ????? veins were too compact ????"

Yeah... I was lost.

Seeing how they excitedly talk to one another, I busied myself by admiring the well decorated banquet hall.

"It's nice talking to you Dr Hale, I'll excuse myself," Zayne's voice pulled me out from my daze.

Zayne walked away with me.

"Bored?" He asked

"I know what I signed up for when I agreed to your invitation," I shrugged.

"We'll leave after my speech," he squeezed my hand as he led me to a group made of two doctors, an elder medical researcher with his wife, and their apprentices.

A round of greetings were shared and curt introduction.

"My wife used to research on your topic Dr Zayne," the elder professor proudly mentiones.

"I am aware, I used a few of your papers as my reference," Zayne stated making the elder lady chuckled.

"I hope my papers can be of help to you," she beams.

I smiled and nodded at their conversation but I can't help ignoring the two doctors glances at me.

It was becoming quite annoying how they glance at me up and down. Although they did it discreetly, it is still obvious in a hunter's eye.

For some odd reason, the doctors here either inspect me thoroughly or ignored me but cutting me off from their conversation.

I never experienced this before with Akso's doctors but it made me anxious.

Was there something wrong with my dress? Is there something on my face? Did I do something wrong?

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," I smiled giving Zayne a glance.

Zayne looked at me with a question-mark and I leaned in.

"Ladies," I whispered and he nodded.

"Hurry back"

I walked as fast as I could to the ladies and locked myself in the cubicle. Putting the cover down, I sat down and fumbled with my purse.

I feel so suffocated and restless. I turned on my front camera to check my appearance.

There was nothing wrong except my lipstick fading from the drinks. I topped up my lipstick when I heard a couple of footsteps walking in.

"I can't believe Dr Zayne is dating a hunter," a voice chimes.

My hand froze.

"I know. It is so mismatched. For a genius like Dr Zayne, I thought he would go for someone like Yvonne. She's the most beautiful person in healthcare in Linkon city,"

"Yvonne will match Dr Zayne better. I saw how they work together, they complement each other well,"

Yvonne... I know that name. I recalled seeing her name on Zayne's likes every now and then.

...she is pretty.

"I guess you can't always be perfect. His peculiar taste in women must be his flaw"

I felt a stung on my heart.

The hurt grew more intense as I hear their footsteps walking out.

"No... don't cry," I looked up as I felt tear brimming my eyes.

I blinked the tears away and let out a deep sigh.

I promised Zayne to watch his speech, I'll leave right after.

I mustered the courage and walked out from the ladies room. Just as I was about to walk into a hall, I heard my name in a conversation.

"I heard her name was MC, a hunter," a masculine voice sounded.

Dr Hale?

"I tried to match Dr Zayne a couple of times with another doctor and he always refused. When I heard he has a lover, I wonder what kind of genius managed to swoon him. I am dissappointed," he spoke.

I felt the tears brimming in my eyes again.

"They won't last long. People outside our field will never understand our jobs. She looks so lost in our conversation just now. It's a pity,"

"She'll leave sooner or later. She won't be able to handle his job,"

"I remember Dr Vincent got dumped by his former lover. She threw a fit and cheated on him. Poor lad did not date anyone since,"

"Pretty sure this MC girl will do the same soon,"

"She's a hunter, aside from wanderers, I am pretty sure she will hunt other lowly men-"

A pair of hands cupped my ears. I glanced behind me to see Zayne's furious face.

"Don't listen to them,"

He turned me around to face him and wiped the tears that I didn't realised had fallen with his fingers.

"aa..." I pulled away and covered my face with my hands, "I made a mistake Zayne, I should leave,"

Zayne pulled me into his arms as he rubbed my back with his hands.

"I apologize. My selfish desire of wanting you here has hurt you," he sighed.

Listening to his words made the tears fell more.

"Zayne... I-"

I heard the sound of the microphone.

"We would like to invite Dr Zayne on his recent research!"

I heard people clapping and cheering.

"Go, hurry," I gently pushed him away, giving him the biggest smile I can managed.

Zayne had guilt all over his face.

"Dr Zayne?" the person on stage called out.

I nudged him and he sighed.

"Wait for me," he stated before making his way to the stage with a professional emotionless face.

Taking his place in front of the microphone, he greeted the hall and began his speech.

Not wanting to go into the banquet hall. I stayed near the entrance, excluding myself from the crowd.

I admiringly gaze at Zayne. His confidence and words were put together beautifully till he has everyone's attention on him.

I heard his speech a few times and even read the books he used as reference. It is the only topic I am well-versed in tonight.

"Thank you for your time. Most importantly, I would like to thank my lover, MC for being my strongest supporter. She plays a big part in my research by helping me think outside of the box, outside of the papers," Zayne looked at my direction.

"With her presence, I discovered that making a break-through isn't just about researching and conduct tests. A different perspective is required outside of the medical field that helps to close the gap. I couldn't ask for a better partner," he let out a small smile.

The people around me gasped.

"Did Dr Zayne just smiled?!!" "This is the first time I saw him smile!!"

I feel my cheeks flushed red and look down on my feet.

Well, that definitely made me wonder what I was crying about.

Zayne closed his speech and got off the stage. The people congratulated him as he walked pass them.

It took a while for him to reach me. Zayne took a hold of my hand, and nodded at the exit.

"Shall we take our leave now?" he smiled.

I nodded and followed him out.

That night, as MC was snoozing away in Zayne's bed.

Zayne played with her hair as he admiringly gaze at her sleeping face.

He knew this was going to happened some day, he was sorry that he couldn't protect her from it.

Doctors are not smart every time.

The amount of medical personnel who broke up due their colleagues' influence.

We cannot date someone outside the medical field, they don't understand our job

Pretty girls wouldn't want nerdy people like us, they will just fool around

Don't fall in love, you'll just end up heartbroken

Zayne re-called when he mentioned MC was a hunter and there was a big fuss when they accidentally saw MC's picture on his phone.

That was the first time Zayne was annoyed with his colleague over a personal matter.

"I do not recall asking for relationship advice"

They stopped talking about relationships to Zayne after that.

He had went on a date with a researcher and even a doctor but they could not give him the excitement that MC had given him.

It was always science and work when he is with them. Although he likes research, sometimes, he wishes to take a break from work and everything related to work.

That is when MC comes in.

She invokes different emotions in him, her thought process is truly different that sometimes, he wishes to check what is going on in her head.

"Zayne, I am craving for toast and eggs. You made good toast and eggs," she blinked her puppy eyes at him.

"Well if you study right before the test, your memories is much stronger compared to learning weeks before you know~" she shrugs.

When she does talks about science... the more he doesn't understand.

"Zayne, I want to learn anatomy today," MC unbuckled his belt.

...

Zayne pulled himself out from his thought process as he looked down at the sleeping MC next to him.

Doctors are not always smart indeed. There is more to science than just books.

"...darling, I feel like learning anatomy again tonight," Zayne whispered.

MC tossed and turned in her sleep.

"study tomorrow... sleep now..." she mumbles before snoring.

Zayne chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her.

There are many things doctors needs to learn outside from books.

[pars-ley]

I...do? (part one)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x f. reader (ft Jung Hoseok briefly) Summary: Based on the film ‘the proposal’ - You hate your boss. He's rude, arrogant and conceited, not to mention works you to the bone, day and night. So walking into one of his meetings, where he announces your upcoming wedding, you being shocked is the least of it. But when he threatens the career you've worked so hard for, can you still say no to his proposal? Genre: Enemies to lovers au / CEO au / fake dating au / colleagues to lovers au / co-workers to lovers / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 18+ (future chapters will be nfsw) Warnings (per chapter): blackmail / manipulation / rudeness / angst W/C: 2.9k Banner: @shadowkoo you are amazing Beta: @beomcoups and @cherrysoulth thank you so much!  Notes: So this has been in the works for about four fucking years now and I’ve decided to do this as a series and i’m finally ready to start posting! Sorry to anyone who has been waiting. This was originally for the 'spring will come again' event with @bangtanarmynet Please, share and comment, it will really help with motivation for writing, which I have been lacking for a while. Thank you so much for reading! Taglist: @ladyartemesia @taestannie @somewhereofftheglobe @moonchild1 @taebangtanbabe @leedoesntknaur @siadreams @m-1234

It’s a lovely spring morning; the trees are green, and the flowers are beginning to bloom. The sun is out and the air is fresh. You have one of the most beautiful views in the city outside your office, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the new growth and warm weather. You’re relaxing into your seat, basking in it…that is, until the elevator down the hall stops on your floor, and you know exactly who's about to step off. You type out your usual frantic message to everyone in their office cubicles in the expanse between the elevators and his office, which you sit directly outside of, and hit send.

Y/n: Satan is entering the gates of hell

Everyone rushes frantically back to their desks. Hushed whispers sound across the void, filling the atmosphere with nervous energy. The elevator dings and silence is instant. You watch as your boss struts along, ignoring everyone else’s presence entirely. 

“Good morning, sir,” you remark with a polite smile as soon as he reaches your desk, to which he strides past you, straight into his office. Resisting the urge to make a sarcastic remark, you focus back on your work, but your irritation grows towards him. Your patience is already thin this morning.

Discreetly, you glance in his direction, noting the way he sits behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, leg crossed casually over the other, and flipping through document pages with an arrogance you can see, even from here. You absolutely hate how good-looking he is. Why does someone so infuriating get to look like that? It somehow makes his whole attitude even worse.

His low voice calling your name snaps your attention. "Get in here."

Sliding your chair out from under your desk, you follow orders.

“Yes, Mr Kim, ” you respond, standing with hands clasped in front of you. Your posture and all-black attire, particularly the skirt, were requested by him.

“Where was my usual tea this morning?” he asks, eyes unwavering from the pages he's absorbed in. 

“The shop was closed this morning, sir, and I thought it best not to go to the other one, as you told me their tea 'looks and tastes like noodle soup.'” Your heart races with annoyance, as you chew the inside of your lip, attempting to hold back any smart-arse remarks.

I’ll tell you where I’d like to put your tea, sir, I’d shove it right up your-

“Then, what is this?” He points to the mug you left on his desk in replacement, a look of disdain twisting his face.

“That’s the tea I made for you, Sir.”

His eyes meet yours for a second with a hard stare. “Right, well next time, how about...don’t.” 

Your teeth clamp together, jaw tensing as you struggle to bite back your retort, instead opting to take the tea and down it right in front of him. The hot liquid burns your throat as it slides down uncomfortably, and you carefully place the mug back on his desk, wiping the corners of your mouth with your fingertips.

"Is that better, sir?" You smile sweetly, but it’s written all over his face that he knows it’s not genuine judging by the glare he throws your way.

Your stomach somersaults nervously, worrying you've gone too far before his eyes fall back down to his paper.

“I have an unscheduled meeting in twenty minutes, it’s important, so make sure I am not disturbed by anyone. Are we clear?” He meets your eyes again, the intimidating aura he radiates hitting you fiercely.

“Y-yes, Mr Kim. Should I delay the ten o’clock meeting then?”

“You’re a smart girl; figure it out.” 

He looks back down at his work, seeming bored of your presence, but you stand there aghast as to what you can reply to that without getting fired.

“Get out.” He waves a hand, dismissing you.

"Right away, sir." You bow dramatically before leaving and closing the door, forcing yourself not to slam it and wishing you could go and scream into a pillow. 

Mr Kim Taehyung can kiss your arse.

Sitting back down at your desk, searching for anything to get your mind off the frustratingly rude man, when your mobile phone rings, surprising you. Even more so when you see it's your mum.

"Yes, mama, I'll be down this weekend," you say quietly into your phone once you're finally able to get a word in. Keeping your voice low to avoid your slave driver of a boss hearing your personal call.

Your mother’s squeal makes you giggle. "Like I'd miss my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary celebration."

"How long are you staying for this time? It's been too long since I've seen my baby!" she stresses.

You can't help the smile that tugs at your mouth. "I know, mama, I'm still working on that."

"You need to tell that boss of yours that enough is enough before he ends up working you to the bone!" Her disapproving tone makes you feel at home.

You see Mr Kim heading your way, "Hmm-mmm, listen, ma, I've got to go; I'll see you this weekend. Love you." You hang up abruptly and get straight back to typing.

"Personal calls should be taken at personal times," he says firmly, heading off down the hall.

Heat flashes up your chest, and your attempt to bite down a retort wavers, "That would mean me being allowed a personal life, sir, " you call after him.

His steps falter for a brief moment before continuing on with not another word or so much as a glance in your direction. 

You swallow and let out the breath you didn't realise you'd been holding, envisioning hurling your phone at the back of his head. I wonder how hard I'd have to throw it to knock him unconscious or to at least give him a concussion.

Taking a long breath and trying not to grind your teeth, something that has become a habit lately and focusing back on your workload.

A short while later, Mr Kim is sitting in his unscheduled “important” meeting, meaning you could blissfully get on with paperwork without interruption. However, glancing up from your computer, you notice how tense and somewhat uncomfortable Mr Kim looks, something most uncharacteristic of him. So it does not surprise you when your work phone vibrates loudly at your desk. Looking down, you see the message "Save me," sent from him, your usual code system to get him out of something he really doesn't want to be part of anymore.

Getting up from your desk and striding across the space, you knock quietly on the door before entering.

"Sir, you have an urgent call on--"

"Ah, here she is," Mr Kim beams at you, a sight that is not only shocking because of how rare it is but also how breathtakingly gorgeous his smile is. You stand there frozen in your spot, unsure what has caused this sudden change in his mood. "No need to stand on ceremony, sweetheart; Mr. Jung is well aware of our upcoming nuptials." 

You stare at him blankly, wondering if he's perhaps having some kind of stroke and considering whether or not you should call an ambulance. He comes over to your rooted feet by the door, and before you can say anything, his arm winds around your waist and guides you over to his desk. You're hyper-aware of his hand on you in such an intimate manner and it infuriates you, boiling your blood liquid hot in your veins. It feels like everything's moving in slow motion while you attempt to piece together all the chaotic thoughts happening in your mind, but nothing makes any sense. 

Upcoming nuptials? Hell would have to freeze over more than once for you to be hitched to a man as rage-inducing as him. In fact, you'd rather be a miserable, shrivelled-up spinster living with a household full of cats than walk down an aisle where he's waiting for you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, and please, call me Hoseok." Mr Jung stands up and shakes your hand, offering you a dazzling grin. You don't fail to notice his suspicious gaze raking over you and your boss. "So, a wedding, that sure is exciting, huh?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow as he waits for your response.

You feel Mr Kim's hand dig into your waist, sparking you to say, "Yes, very. Who doesn't love a wedding?"

Hoseok laughs. "It's true, they are such joyous occasions. Are you prepared? Is everything set, I mean?"

Before you can say anything, you hear your boss's baritone voice beside you, sending vibrations through your body and muddling your mind even more. "There are still a few things here and there to take care of, but I have faith it will all be done in time."

"Perfect." The man smiles at you. "So your families know about this wedding?" 

Hell, I didn't even know about it, so they definitely don't.

"I don't have any family; both my parents died years ago, no siblings or grandparents alive," Mr Kim admits, voice impassive. You can't help but be surprised by this new piece of information. You’re unsure if that was true or part of his weird ruse, but your heart tugs a little at imagining someone not having anyone, even someone as vile as him.

"Oh, I am sorry," Hoseok offers, "and what about your family?" He aims at you.

"We were planning on telling her family this weekend," Mr Kim interjects. “It's her parents' wedding anniversary, so we thought we'd go up there for the bank holiday and surprise them, didn't we, sweetheart?" 

You clench your teeth together to stop your mouth from popping open in shock. He squeezes you closer to his side, a movement that has you tensing your jaw in an attempt to keep the searing in your veins down to a minimum. 

"Yes, yes, we are," you add, forcing a smile.

"So what happens now?" Mr Kim asks.

You glance up at him, then at Hoseok, who seems to be scrutinising your every move. You resist the urge to squirm uncomfortably in Mr Kim's grasp.

"Well, you'll both have to come in for an interview at some point. Provided you both pass this stage and I deem this marriage legitimate then, we'll fill in the necessary paperwork, you'll no longer be deported and your new visa will be valid."

You no longer hear the words being said, everything becoming muffled and moving in slow motion. Deportation!? Legitimate marriage!? That's why he's made this up, so he can stay in the country. 

You feel your stomach drop to your feet, heavy, yet threatening to shoot up and out of your mouth, decorating his office carpet.

"Great. Is there anything else you need from us, Mr Jung?"

He taps his chin and stares at you quizzically. "Just make sure neither of you are lying, then we'll have no problems. A fine and prison time is not to be looked at lightly."

What!? You laugh nervously. "People actually get sent to prison for that?"

He nods. "Sure, it happens all the time. You could face up to five years in prison and a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and yet people still think that they can trick us." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Anyway, I'll be sending you both a letter about when and where your interview will occur, most likely in a few weeks, I look forward to seeing you both then." 

You shake hands before he's gone and both of you are rooted to the spot, staring after him. 

Soon enough, Mr Kim moves back around to his desk, flicking through his papers, his eyes focused as if nothing out of the ordinary has just happened.

You stand there frozen, waiting for some kind of explanation, and when nothing comes, you speak up, "Excuse me, sir, but what was that?"

He sighs as if bored by your presence and continues to focus on the files in front of him. "They were going to fire me once I got deported and give Mr Park my job."

You stare at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

"Don't worry, we'll get married and get a quickie divorce. It will be over in no time."

You feel like your feet will surely collapse from the weight of this burden that has suddenly become yours. Without asking or consenting, you've ended up in a situation you're unsure how to deal with or get out of.

"Sir," you finally speak, breaking through your stunned silence and swallowing the burning you feel rising into your throat. "I cannot marry you."

Finally, he drops his papers and meets your panicked eyes. "Listen, you don't really have a choice; if you don't, I'll fire you and ensure that any new job you apply for will have zero interest in hiring you. I'll make something up so terrible you'll be blacklisted, and where will that leave you, after all the hard work you've put in during the last three years? Hmm?"

You stare into his cold, dark eyes and know there's no hint of a lie or an exaggeration in his words. 

“All of those late nights runs to the grocery store for me, all the weekend calls and late night working will have been for nothing.”

You struggle to find the words, feeling your world crashing in on you and smothering you beyond belief. Feeling yourself being pushed against a rock and a mountain with nowhere to escape, when all your legs want to do is run.

You suck deep breaths into your lungs. 

He would ruin your career and everything you've worked so hard for. In one fell swoop, your life would be over. For the last three years your job has been everything, not allowing an ounce of a social life; no holidays and no relationships, nothing has existed outside of your job.

Not to mention, how could you afford your apartment if you had no job? You'd have to move back home with your parents to small-town life...the thought made your stomach churn, that was more frightening than anything. 

"If I do this, I'm taking a big risk here, so I'm going to need some assurances."

He smirks, sinking back into his chair and folding his arms across his chest. The material of his blazer stretched across his bicep muscles, giving him an even more intimidating edge.

"I wasn't aware you were in a position to make demands."

Your hands clench into fists at your sides, longing to make a connection to his perfectly chiselled jaw, as anger bubbles inside the deepest pit of hatred you have for this man.

"I could go to prison! You're not asking me to go on a business trip; you're asking me to marry you so you can stay in the country! So, you either give me what I want, or I quit here and now, and bye-bye, Mr Kim, hello, Mr Park." turning towards his office door, your face flushes with angry heat. Feeling brazen and reckless, two can play at this game and if you are going to do this, you are damn sure you're going to make it worth your while.

"Wait," he says quickly.

Glancing back, you watch the smugness on his features slowly die as he realises how serious you are. "What is it you want?"

"A promotion. Not a bullshit one you make up so I can continue assisting you either."

He sighs and massages his temples. "Ok, ok, fine. How about the head of a department?"

You've wanted that since you started at this company; ever since you were hired, that has been your focus and the only thing getting you through this role.

"Hm, which department?" You act coy, knowing there's only one answer you want to hear.

He rubs his face and groans, his cool, calm exterior well and truly forgotten. "Design. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Taken aback by how he could have known that you pause for a moment before composing yourself once again. "Yes. I want it in writing and signed by you." 

"Fine."

You nod, feeling a triumphant bloom expand in your chest.

"Are we done here?" He asks.

"Ask me nicely." 

His hands come down hard on the desk; an exasperated look withers his face. "What?"

"Ask me nicely to marry you."

His mouth pops open, closes, and opens again. His cheeks flush, and the sight makes you smile. Who would have thought something so simple would make him blush?

"That's ridiculous."

"Ok, goodbye, Mr Kim; I wish I could say nice knowing you." You turn and push his office door open.

"Alright," he calls. "Just….shut the door."

You can hear the pleading in his voice, knowing how desperate he is and wondering how much you should take advantage of that. You do as he says, step back into the room, and watch with unashamed amusement as he stands up and rounds his desk, closing the gap between you rather sheepishly.

He takes a deep breath as his eyes stay fixed on your blazer's lapels. "Will-"

"On one knee, please." You interrupt.

His cheeks darken as he prepares to argue, but he second-thinks as his eyes flit desperately between yours. He slowly sinks down onto the ground at your feet and plasters on a fake and yet still dazzling smile, "Will you, please, marry me?" he finally says, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

For a moment, you enjoy the sight of him on his knees in front of you, looking up through thick eyelashes, but your abhorrence of him stops your mind from going any further.

"Fine," you reply with a smirk as you walk out, leaving him staring at your back. If you are doing this for him, you sure as hell are going to make him pay for it.

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if... you were a romance trope

i got inspiration (sapnap, dream, george, karl, quackiy, wilbur) 

sapnap (hockey x figure skater): - im in the middle of heartbreaker rn and SHUT UP - i LOVE THIS TROPE - IM NOT EVEN A FIGURE SKATER I DO TAEKWONDO BUT I STILL FROTH OVER THIS SHIT - and then in addition to that one tommyinnit is a figure skater and everyone else is on a hockey team “ice these hurts” or smt h like that - i love this trope. - anyway i think that this trope comes hand in hand with enemies to lovers - his hockey team and ur figure skating group are at the same winter sports competiton - and you have to share a rink - booooo - so everyday you end practice with the sight of a bunch of hockey buffs roughhousing in the stands, waiting for you to finish - and everyday a certain brunette one sneers and smirks at you as you walk off the ice - “had a nice practice ice queen/king?” he asks you teasingly - “shut up, yeti” you mutter back gratingly as you bump your shoulder into his build as you pass him - and he comes up with a new one everyday - and you quip right back at him, unphased - one day, he comes into practice early just to spite you - what he wasn’t expecting is to see how good you actually were on the ice - he sat there like “ :O” and just watche dyou glide across the ice with what seemed like barely any effort - and he watched how passionate you were in your craft and the dance - and bro was whipped right then and there - so that day as you were leaving he said “you were amazing out there” and it took u jumpscared - you were like “no insult today?” - and he was like “dang, didnt know u liked them that much ;) but not today, not for something as beautiful as that” - and i think you can guess where it went from there... :)

 dream (ceo and employee romance):  - AKAIAKAKAHAKH TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION - i mean hes a ceo alr so its like one step in the door you know - anyway hes a ceo - bro wears those fancy ass suits everyday and has like a wine cellar mini fridge shit thing in his office  - any way you pull up to his headquarters one day for like an interview and you were so fucking nervous  - you ran into him in the elevator (and no clue who he was) - and you basically vented to him for the 30 second elevator ride before scurrying off to your interview - bro didnt even get dreams name or anything - he kinda just smiled and wished you well as you ran away  - he thought you were so cute  - and you thought dude was hot as fuck  - anyway you got the JOB!! LETS GOO - the next day, your supervisor is like taking u around showing u the works - ....and you meet the ceo - its dream - and youre like :0 and he’s like  *smirk wink* ;) “hey” - and youre like “well fuck hes the ceo i cant be in love with him” - and you avoid him - but he makes it his life’s mission to get on ur radar - in the break room, in ur cubicle, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot man is ON YOU LIKE A MOTH TO A LIGHT - eventually he convinces you to go to fancy dinner - and WOW hes paying?? so that shit was FIREEEE - fancy wagyu steak and 102379182 year old wine i mean cmon - it was good ok - he asks you out after dinner and assures u ur job wont be at risk and everything - ba da bing ba da boom  - now youre dating happily and he spoils the FUCK outta you  - lmk if you want this one as a big fic with dialogue

george (neighbors): - tell me why whenever i have my delulu daydreams with george he’s always a neighbor - very much boy next door vibes - omg HES YOUR COLLEGE ROOMMATE NEXT DOOR - stoppppp - on move in day he pulls up with his family and u with urs and youre like - “hi ! nice to meet you im so exicted to move in!” and bros like “same!” - sometimes hes loud bc hes talking to his friends but you dont mind - hes a cs major and ur  whatever u want major - one day you decided to start singing  rlly loud while cleaning - ur singing taylor swift - and then george could hear you from the room next door to yours - so he writes up a little post it note that was like “loved the concert! when’s the next one?” and stuck in on your door - you found it and started mad blushign - you had a crush on him since day one awwww - anyways you two started communicating via post it notes and songs played loudly through the walls <3 - till one day you hear boyfriend by big time rush - and then you play girlfriend by avril lavigne back - and then he slips you a post it note under the door and you open the door before you could read it  - and its an unspoken like thing that you start dating - its so romantic how you can saw you guys starting dating because of taylor swift !!

quackity (academic rivals): - DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THIS TROPE IT BRINGS ME LIFE ALRIGHT - alright - two law school students FIGHTING IT OUT ACADEMICALLY - you guys met in ur freshman year english class or some shit - clashed together in a discussion group - and its been game on since then - your texts with each other are flaunting texts - “hey alex, guess who got a 97 on the last midterm?” - “guess who got a 99 ;)” - over time, the texts started getting more and more hostile - people started to thing you two actually hated one another’s guts  - but in reality it was more for the thrill - but this continued throughout your law school careers - and you both become successful lawyers in the end!! - and when the headmaster calls you both into his office and says - “youre both valedictorian! congrats! you have to give a speech together” - well its like all the hatred faded away - you grinned and cheezed at each other before giving each other the biggest hug ever - so you both wrote a speech together - and soon the day of graduation came - and q goes at the end “i wouldn’t be here without the person who motivated me through it all, so thank you (y/n)” and youre like “hey man *sob* wtf *sob” - and you kiss him on the cheek and cheer to all the graduates  - after the ceremony he catches up to you in the parking lot, grabbing your wrist before you could go off with ur family - and blurts out word soup - and ur like what - and hes like “i really like you, and law school wouldn’t have been the same without you. can we be more than friends?” - and youre like “duhhh” and kiss him right there karl (best friends to lovers): - YOU ARE IN LOVE BY TAYLOR SWIFT  - that is the song for this SCENARIO - you two met when you were little kids in like first grade - your friends werent there on that day so you hung out with each other - hooked to the other since then and there - it was always “karl and you” and “you and karl” - you came as a packaged deal - through ups and downs you were there together - you graduated high school together and were going to the same college together now - while karl barely got into any romantic relationships, you seemed to be going through a few of them  - you were desperate for a love connection and honestly i aint blaming u - one day after a horrible date he came over to your dorm and u had an impromptu sleepover - you were in karls old shirt and some pajama pants and he was in his pajamas - and you two were just watching a movie together - before he turns to you abruptly, and you turn to look at him - and he’s like “you’re my best friend”  - and you saw a switch flip in him - since then, the dynamic between you two changed (for the better) - you became more flirty more touchy  - you started to act like you were a couple more and more - one day you saw him open his wallet to pull out his card  - and u saw that he has a picture of the two of you in his wallet - and then you knew that he was it for you - you ask him out that night - and hes so happy hes picking you up and spinning you around - <3 wilbur (musician x fan trope): - okay this is inspired by those tik toks that are like “did you see the way he looked at me” and its harry styles staring and eyeing down a fan in the audience like YES - and he’s a musician so it fits! - imagine lovejoy is like a HUGE HUGE Band so maybe this is in the future - anyways you and ur friend go to a lovejoy concert - for the sake of the story, youre not that big a fan of lovejoy just familiar with hits like sex sells and one day - the whole time ur friend is like “theyre so good hes so good its all so good” - you two end up a few rows from barricade  - and you and ur friend start screaming it up as you should - youre not oblivious to the way the lead singer keeps looking over in your direction, winking and smiling - imagine a sweaty, singing wilbur glancing over at you during sex sells and giving you a smile as he rasps out “you know sex sells i know that” - brb ascending to heaven - anyway a time comes when he stops to speak to the audience - he wastes no time - he struts over to your side of the stage and points at you  - “what’s your name?” - and you scream it at him - “what a lovely name!” - the crowd cheers - “ahre you single?” he asks with a grin on his face - the grin grows when u nod at him - “give me ur number!?” he asks and you nod at him as ur friend is dying next to you - he gestures u and ur friend to the front of the stage by the barricade  - and he passes you a marker and make syou WRITE YOUR NUMBER ON HIS GUITAR OR HIS SHIRT OR SOMETHING - oh yeahh go you go you thank yoU! let me know if you want any of these to become a bigger story/imagine and LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2 WITH OTHER PEOPLE :D reblogs appreciated

[vanilladove]

❤︎ ₊ ⊹ get free (bonus)

based off of an anonymous request to see what would happen if reader tried to escape because trust was lost🫣 this is also the 'bad ending' reposted bc 'read more' wasn't working the first time.

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader; slight fydor x fem!reader🤫

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: angst + fluff? w/ dark elements; one suggestive scene with nikolai🙈read at your own discretion!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: feelings of guilt, manipulation + violence, unhealthy relationships, slightly yandere nikolai, this is lowkey sad...😔

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: you've become an accomplice to the doa. however, you've started to grow some doubts about your situation. are you really free or just in another man's cage? not to mention the demon lurking from a distance... ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 2 & pt3 (good ending)໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 4.7k

"So, what's your husband like?" Your coworker Juliette asked, sitting in a circle with your other colleague Anaïs, passing around a box of assorted chocolates.

It had been three months. You and Nikolai had successfully infiltrated Mersault, getting more information about the space-creating ability and honing in on potential ability users. Now you were alone, working for the government's IT department--your goal was to create a breach in their database for Fyodor to get into, so he could narrow down the Decay of Angel's targets and get their information.

Anaïs scowled and gave you the chocolates, muttering a word about how she was "low-sugar" before she primped her hair, preparing to brag, "Well, y'know, Louis takes me shopping and buys me new jewelry whenever I want. He just got me a new puppy, too, and he's the cutest little pomeranian!" You giggled a bit as Juliet pouted in envy, "Oh--and he's taking this weekend off, so we can go to the islands together!" You popped a caramel-filled square in your mouth as Juliet rolled her eyes playfully.

"You spoiled princess...Antoine spends all his money on the kids--plus he only gets one weekend off a month and always brings them to our romantic date nights..." Your coworker sighed dramatically, pretending like she wasn't equally as doting over her children, whose pictures and handmade gifts were all around her cubicle.

Ah, children, families, frequent romantic dates, marriage...those were all traditional things you gave up after running away with Nikolai.

You were lost in your thoughts as you popped another rich candy into your mouth--this one being filled with a creamy pistachio ganache that tasted a bit too artificial and made you cringe. Juliette called your name to snap you out of your daze.

"Well, what about you? What's your husband like?" She leaned forward and stared curiously at you, waiting for you to share your little gossip. You chewed slowly, trying to process the question as Anaïs nudged her friend's side lightly.

"Juliette, are you blind?! The girl doesn't have a ring on her finger--certainly she must have a man though--I mean look at her--she's a stunner." Your eyes widened at that as you twirled your wig hair and fixed your fake disguise glasses.

"Oh, well, Anaïs is right, I do have a...lover." Lover...you and Nikolai had never really put an official label on your relationship. You described Nikolai--dubbed as "Nikolas"--to the two other women, trying to stay as true as possible while not revealing his true identity.

Juliet winked at you, "Do you guys have sex? Is he rough, soft, kinky?" She giggled as Anaïs side-eyed her for her childish behavior.

You blushed, well, at least you could answer this question in earnest, "Yeah...he's good...really good." You covered your face briefly, feeling heat in your cheeks when you remembered your little Mersault moments. "But we haven't done anything in a while since he's away on a...work trip." You smiled sadly at that, despite missions being the new norm, you couldn't deny feeling lonely and missing Nikolai constantly.

"Ohhhhh?" Juliette and Anaïs exchanged coy looks, "You need that man to marry you before he leaves you...trust me, darling, I would know." Anaïs said, touching up her lipstick, "You wouldn't want to get knocked up and left alone, would you? Men are too unfaithful these days..."

Yeah, you knew all about that first hand.

You were about to interject until you supervisor knocked on the wall of the space you three were having lunch in. "Lunch break's over. Get back to work, ladies." You all got up slowly, and you held onto the box of chocolates, offering some pieces to Juliette before taking it back to your work desk and putting your headset on.

"You shouldn't eat so many chocolates, ptichka, you'll get a sugar crash." You straightened your back suddenly upon hearing the sultry, russian man's voice in your headset. Fyodor. He usually gave you instructions privately to hack into the system, but he normally only talked to you for mission purposes.

Rolling your eyes, you popped a sweet milk chocolate heart into your mouth, "Hush, I'm stressed. And how did you know? Are you watching me or something?" You looked up by the ceilings to glare into the nearby security cameras.

Fyodor only laughed on the other side. "Oh, milaya, I'm always watching you." Shivers ran down your spine as his voice faded out and you were back to staring at your log-in screen.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You waved goodbye to your coworkers as greeted Ivan--your personal chauffeur--and stepped into the backseat of the car, staring out the tinted window. The car was stopped at a red light when you noticed an animated billboard broadcasting a clip of the news. It was your parents and your in-laws begging for any information about you or your husband's disappearances and the award for either of your safe returns. While that didn't bother you at first--after all, your parents just saw you as a pawn they could marry away for a sound investment, and your in-laws didn't treat you much better either--you couldn't help but feel some remorse from their desperate pleas.

You knew what had happened to your husband--you and Nikolai had killed him. As much as you didn't want to admit it, his death was starting to haunt you. The eerie silence after you'd pulled the trigger and the horrible state he was in before replayed in your dreams, and it didn't help that your lover wasn't there to comfort you anymore. Especially now that Sigma was busy managing the Sky Casino, and you had to work your 9-5 office job, you really had no one to talk to openly. No one...except for Fyodor.

"Welcome back, milashka." Fyodor greeted you as you slipped off your heels upon entering the base. You smiled awkwardly at him, freeing your hair from the wig and slipping your glasses back into your purse. "How was work today?"

"Good...as always...you would know that, though since you're always watching me." You teased, still a bit shaken by what he'd said.

Despite how cold and reluctant he was towards you at first, you'd somehow gotten closer since it was basically just you two at the base. He'd held up his promise and gave you plenty of books to read, so you often talked about literature, which usually lead to deeper conversations. Additionally, although he never addressed you by your name like Sigma, he started giving you russian pet names--some of which were uncannily similar to the ones Nikolai would call you. You tried not to pay it much mind--it was probably some weird power dynamic thing--but you couldn't help but notice how he hid the nicknames and subtle flirting around Nikolai.

Fyodor motioned towards the small table by the fireplace, "I made some tea. Would you care to join me, ptichka? He smirked as you sighed and sat down next to him--you swore the chairs were closer than usual. You pulled the box of chocolates out of your purse and set them down next to a blue and white porcelain tea cup. You poured yourself some black tea before taking another chocolate, this one being filled with strawberry cream. You sulked after seeing a drawing of a happy family on the box, drawing Fyodor's attention. "Is anything on your mind, milaya? You seem bothered."

You eyed him curiously, surprised that he cared to listen to you. You figured you needed to get it off your chest, though, so you opened up, "Well...it's just that I've been alone lately with Nikolai gone, and I've been feeling like maybe this life isn't exactly for me..." You trailed off, a bit panicked when you saw a blank, stoic look on Fyodor's face. You put your hands up defensively, "N-not like I don't want to be a part of the Decay of Angels anymore, but just that I want more out of my life in the future."

Fyodor crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand, gazing down at you, intrigued, "Go on."

You gulped, "I get so jealous when my coworkers talk about their families and settling down, going on fun vacations, or having daily board game nights...How they can speak so freely about their lives, while I have to live a lie and walk past my missing posters every day...I-I don't have anyone to come home to anymore, either..." You could feel tears start to cloud your vision as you looked down, never speaking this passionately before. You were sure you looked pathetic.

Your eyes widened as you felt Fyodor's frail fingers come up to wipe away your tears and brush across your cheek before landing on top of your hands. They were cold, not as warm as Nikolai's but at least somewhat comforting.

"Perhaps it isn't a different lifestyle you crave, but a sense of belonging and security." Fyodor started, bringing his face a bit closer to yours. "Your heart desires a deeper connection with those around you. After all, you abandoned everyone you knew before and suddenly went into an entirely different life. It's only normal that you would feel distressed after a while. You need comfort--and I'm sure that some part of you wants to give your parents some closure about your disappearance."

Fyodor was being...sympathetic? It was almost scary how well he could describe what you were feeling, along with how surprisingly empathetic he acted. You had quickly learned that he had little regard for others or for defective subordinates.

You looked up at him, "It's not just that, though. Even though it's selfish, I want Nikolai to marry me--or at least make things more serious and clear between us..." You didn't notice Fyodor slightly frowning at that as you continued, "He's just been away for so long, and it's not like I don't trust him, but he really has no obligation to stay loyal to me, and I've already been cheated on before...There's no way I can fall in love with another man being a double agent, so I need to know if he plans on us being long-term or not..." Rambling out the rest of your feelings, Fyodor stroked your hand slowly, his smug smile returning on his face.

"You should tell him that, then. If you speak from your heart and tell him the truth, I'm sure he'll listen to you. After all, he'd fulfill your desires if he really loved you." You pouted.

"But it's Nikolai...at the end of the day, he lives by his own convictions and philosophy."

Fyodor clicked his tongue, "If he loved you, he'd compromise." You weren't quite convinced, but you flinched when he brought your hand up and placed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "Good luck, milashka." As soon as it happened, he was gone as he dismissed himself and left you alone at the table. You didn't know how to think or process the conversation as you lightly slapped away the faint blush across your cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Another long day of work had concluded as you wished your coworkers a good weekend and walked out the door. It had been two weeks since your conversation with Fyodor, but it was all that was on your mind. You really needed to talk to Nikolai soon.

Wait. Was that Ivan...holding a bouquet of flowers? Not just any flowers either--they were the same lavender roses you'd been gifted by your ex-patient in the asylum courtyard.

Ivan only gave you his usual twisted smile and laughter before handing you the bouquet as you shot him a questioning look. You muttered a quiet "thank you" as you got into the backseat and stared out the window again, smelling the fragrant roses and replaying Fyodor's words in your head.

It didn't hit you that the road you were traveling on was unfamiliar until the car suddenly came to a stop, and you realized you were in an abandoned alleyway. Uneasiness started to settle in as your driver exited his seat, shutting the car door behind him. "Iv--"

You were interrupted when the door to the backseat flung open and closed as Ivan crawled on top of you, pushing the flowers out of your hands as he pushed his body against yours and cradled into your neck, hysterically giggling. "I-Ivan--" You struggled to shove him off you, but he was too strong, "W-what are you---"

A familiar scent stopped you from speaking as your heartbeat increased. Wait, was that--?

Ivan pulled away from your neck before tugging off his bandages, his whole appearance suddenly fading away before being replaced by...

"K-Kolya! I-It's you!" Relief washed over your face as you looked up to see your lover staring back at you, clearly satisfied from whatever prank he'd just played on you. He kissed away the tears that had formed instinctively from your fear while laughing maniacally.

"Hehe~ Did you miss me, dove? I wanted to surprise you since I just came back. Your reactions were a nice little treat~" You pouted as you looked away, embarrassed that you'd lost yet another one of Nikolai's mini games. His features softened, "I'm afraid I may have gone a bit too far though. I really missed you, myla." His warm, gloved fingers traced over your bottom lip slowly.

"M-missed you too, Kolya. So much..." You sniffled as you pulled his head down to yours, tangling your fingers into his fluffy white hair and capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Your back pushed into the car cushions as Nikolai's hands roamed your body, needy to touch you again after so long--especially since he couldn't contact you. He fumbled with the buttons on your thick coat, hands working fast to get you out of all of your layers.

He groaned into the kiss as you tugged on his locks and wrapped your legs around his waist to press him further against you. By now, he had unbuttoned your light blue blouse to reveal your pretty skin. Nikolai pulled away from the kiss gently to take you in--the sight of you all flustered in just a thin lacy bra was turning him on, evident from his growing arousal that was pushing against your tights.

"Fuck, dove, you're so beautiful..." He dipped back to leave messy hickeys on your neck, whispering in your ear before slowly working his way down, "Your skin's so soft...were you touching yourself while I was away, pryntsesa?" You moaned at that, whining when his hand starting rubbing circles from your hips to your inner thigh, getting dangerously close. The trail of wet kisses traveled down your collarbone and your breasts to your stomach and eventually stopping where the waistband of your black skirt and tights laid. He was panting lightly at this point, devoid of air from worshipping your body. "It wasn't enough, though, was it? You need me to feel good, myla~" He heaved, his face pink and strands of hair falling over his eyes. His fingers hooked around your clothes and he resumed his trail of kisses, about to strip you.

"If he loved you, he'd compromise."

Fyodor's words hit you as you stopped Nikolai, lightly pushing yourself up again. "W-wait, Nikolai, I want to talk to you about something." He grunted, annoyed like a little kid, his bulge still pressing against you.

"Can it wait? I didn't bring you to this abandoned, sketchy alley for nothing, ptashka." You pulled away further, to his disappointment, and pulled your knees up against your body, pouting sadly.

"I know, but it's something that's been on my mind since you've been gone", Nikolai only sighed impatiently as you pleaded, "I promise it won't take too long..." You put your hand over Nikolai's, and he obliged reluctantly, sitting up a small distance away from you.

"Cockblocker...make it quick." He muttered, and you tried not to be immature and giggle. This was supposed to be a serious conversation.

You cleared your throat, "Well, I was just wondering about us...and our relationship..." You flinched when you saw Nikolai's eyes bore into you, "I-It's not what you think---I love you and want to stay with you, but, are we..." You trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed and unsure about what to say next. You looked down, mind a muddled mess, but you tried to remember Fyodor's advice.

"A-are we ever going to get married? Settle down and maybe start a family? Move somewhere nice and peaceful, where we can just enjoy each other's company?" Your mind went back to Anaïs and her husband, as you slowly started to look back up, "Go on a vacation together to the islands? Or your home coun--"

"No." Nikolai's dark gaze cut into you, stopping you from speaking any further. "Why would you want that, dove?"

You could feel your heart shattering. This wasn't how you thought he would respond. He was supposed to understand you, to listen to you, to compromise.

"I want a future with you, Kolya, that's why..." You started sadly, throat feeling constricted.

"But we're already together right now, myla. Isn't that enough for you?" Nikolai replied apathetically, his expression stoic and unreadable.

"It's--but my husband cheated on me, so I have to know if you're serious about us. I don't want to be in an unstable relationship anymore." Tears pricked your eyes, threatening to spill out as you could feel your heart breaking, "Anyways, you could just cheat on me, too. You're barely even around anymore, and I'm sure that you're always surrounded by beautiful women...All my coworkers are already married and in a happy relationship, so I feel so behind..."

"Oh, so that's why? Because society's telling you to live that way? Because you want to be accepted and imitate everyone else? That's the exact life I was trying to escape from, dove." Nikolai butted back, smiling cruelly.

"N-no! That's not--" You cried out, not being able to hold in the tears. Nikolai frowned and looked up from your face, reaching up towards your head.

"That hat? When did you get that?" He glared up at the white ushanka on your head. It resembled a certain someone's too closely.

You sniffled, "T-this? It's a gift from Fyodor. 'Cause it's getting cold out." Nikolai furrowed his brows in jealously upon hearing that name.

"From Dos...he's the one who planted those ideas in your head, didn't he?" His fists tightened at the thought of Fyodor wrapping you around his finger; it was his specialty, after all.

You wiped your tears sadly as you lowly shook your head no. At this point, Fyodor seemed to be the only one who understood you. He was the one who'd told you that Nikolai would compromise if he loved you. But he didn't. Did that mean...?

"Tch. Look, myla, stay away from that man. Dos may be my friend, but I don't trust him." Seeing your sad face and lack of response angered him more and he raised his voice a bit, "Stop talking to him, dove. I'm warning you--don't you dare even look in his direction."

Your sobbing resumed as you pulled your head back into your knees, hearing the backdoor shut as Nikolai left and started driving back to the base. You heard the sound of rain in the background as you clutched the white ushanka in your arms, the fluffy hat offering you some comfort.

The ride back was silent.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Fyodor awaited you both when you finally arrived back at the base, the same sly smile on his face. "Welcome back, you two." Nikolai only glared back, holding your hand tightly. He let go suddenly and walked past Fyodor into his stone room, implying for him to follow suit.

Once Nikolai's back was turned away, Fyodor gave you a soft, concerned glance. Your nose and eyes were swollen and red from all the crying. "I'm guessing it didn't go well, milashka?" You shook your head softly, and he whispered about leaving some cookies and tea in your room. He tried to approach you, but a strong voice cut him off.

"Dos, let's talk." Nikolai menacingly called out, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. You'd never seen him this stern or angry before. He never took anything seriously, certainly you weren't an exception, right?

Fyodor shot you one last empathetic look and went into his room. You shuddered as the sound of Nikolai slamming the door and immediately yelling loudly bounced off the walls. As much as you wanted to eavesdrop, you were worn out and tired.

You retreated to your and Nikolai's shared room slowly, too exhausted to even try the tea and cookies Fyodor had thoughtfully left for you. You barely stripped off your disguise before crashing onto the bed, just wanting the day to be over.

Things with Nikolai could never go back to normal again. You wished you'd just kept your mouth shut, but you also wished Nikolai had been more open to your desires. What were you to him, anyways? And you didn't understand why he was so mad at Fyodor. He'd kept you company while Nikolai was gone, and he'd been nothing but respectful and attentive.

You groaned and tried to shut your eyes to drown out the conflicting thoughts in your head. Everything was way too complicated now. You wished things could be peaceful again. You wished you could escape.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"You want to go back home, ptichka?" Fyodor asked. You nodded in response. The next day, Nikolai was gone on another mission, never coming to your shared bed the night before or saying goodbye to you before leaving.

The russian man sighed, "That's a bad idea. You'll get caught before you know it, and once the press gets a hold of you, it'll be hard to rescue you. Plus you still have your job that could arouse suspicion."

"I know..." You started. "I just...have some amends to make...and I'll only be gone for a day or two...and stay in disguise." Liar. You didn't know why you wanted to go back, and if you were homesick or just trying to self-sabotage yourself. Either way, you knew you couldn't stay here and look at Fyodor or Nikolai any longer. Things were too tense, and you didn't know who was genuinely there for you or just manipulating you.

You couldn't trust either of them. Your plan was to either go back and get caught for your crimes or retreat to the Sky Casino for as long as possible. You bet that Sigma didn't like or trust the two men either.

Not to mention, you'd already left Nikolai a parting text, writing,

"I'm sorry. I'll always love you, Kolya. Thank you."

Not that you even knew if he'd see it, but you still wanted to say something.

"I'll help you." Fyodor finally said, making your eyes widen in surprise. "But I want to tell you something first." He took your hands and held them, running his thumb over your fingers. His touch was cold. "I admire you for wanting to confront your feelings and follow your heart. The rest of us have forgotten such feelings of humanity." He continued, "To see such a lovely, well-read woman like you leave pains me. I'll truly miss you and our intellectual conversations, milaya. So much so that I'll be awaiting your safe return."

You blushed as he kissed your gentle hands, "T-thank you, Fyodor, I'm flattered." Lying again, but you figured you would have to use your 'feminine charm' a bit to fully convince him.

He smirked subtly, "Escaping from another man's cage of lofty ideals and freedom into the outside world...Would you care to do me one last favor, milashka?" You nodded with doe eyes as he leaned into your ear.

"Give me a goodbye kiss." Shocked and flustered, you pulled away and broke contact.

Fyodor only stepped forward and held your face, his soft smile seeming more sinister now, "What's wrong, dove, you just have to kiss me, and I'll help you escape. Not a bad deal, no?" He got dangerously close to you, his hot breath fanning over your glossy lips.

You froze for a second, "I-I can't--" Fyodor only traced your lips ominously, like he was taunting you and asking you why.

"I'm still in love with Niko--"

"Dove? Dos?" Your heartbeat stopped when you heard your lover's voice behind you. Why was he here, and how'd he get here so fast?

You turned around, hoping he would save you, until you saw him holding a gun--the same one he used on your husband.

"Kolya, w-wait, this isn't..." You stopped talking when you heard the gun cock. There was no way you could explain your way out of this. You and Fyodor were just about to kiss, and you were trying to escape indefinitely.

Nikolai narrowed his eyes and pointed the gun at Fyodor, "This was your doing, wasn't it?" Fyodor only remained calm, however, and twirled a strand of your hair while smirking.

"No, quite the opposite actually. Our little dove here was just about to escape and go back home to 'make amends'. It seems like she may still be grieving over her husband and their traditional life together..." Nikolai's grip on his gun tightened, still pointed at his friend. "Actually, she was just seducing me to help her escape. A goodbye kiss, that's what you wanted, right, ptichka?" Your ex-patient's eyes narrowed after hearing the similar pet name.

He turned to you, "Is he telling the truth, dove?" You were shaking, still trying to process the situation in front of you.

"N-no! I was trying to escape with Fyodor's help, but that's it! I swear, I still love you--please believe me, Kolya!" You pleaded, practically begging for your life. Nikolai looked at you regrettably before removing the card over his right eye and laughing bitterly.

"And here I was, rushing back to see you once I saw your text because I was worried about you and wanted to talk things out properly. I'm quite the fool aren't I, dove?" He started laughing maniacally, scaring you. He then stopped suddenly and pointed the gun at you, "But I guess this decision was from your own free will. I was wrong for thinking you were the same as me..."

Anxiety settling in, you couldn't react. What was Nikolai going on about? Had Fyodor said something to or manipulated him, too?

"We got rid of your husband, but now you want Dos, too? You're aren't really mine, are you, dove?" He walked closer to you and pressed the cold metal barrel to your hip. "I'll be nice and let you play one last game, though~" He had a crazy look in his eyes--one dark and emotionless, and the other streaming tears; you were sure every feeling was spiraling through his brain.

Nikolai giggled as he pushed you out of the door onto the floor. You were about to get up in fear when you heard a shot in the background. Did he shoot Fyodor?

Deranged laughter was heard behind you as Nikolai peeked his head out the door, "Better start running, dove. Otherwise the next shot might hit you~" You backed up in terror, standing up and stumbling over to Nikolai, wrapping your arms around him and crying hysterically.

"K-Kolya, you're s-scaring me. I-I love you, s-so let's go back t-to n-normal." Nikolai paused against your shaky body and lifted your face up to his. Tears were falling out both of his eyes now, contrasting the wicked grin contorting his lips. You gasped as he wiped your eyes and licked away your tears.

"You look so pretty when you cry, angel. I'll give you an extra ten seconds for that. Ten...nine...eight..." Realizing you had no way to convince Nikolai to spare your life, you ran, not daring to look back behind you. The man you loved was gone, driven mad by his obsession over you. Your skin crawled as you heard his voice reverberating through the hallways.

"I thought you loved me, dove, but it seems I wasn't what you wanted. I got too attached to you, though, and you know too much, so it seems I can't just let you go or give you to another man. You won't escape my cage."

[ladybyakuya]

| BLIND + IZUMO HARUICHI.

+cw. — izumo haruichi x f!reader, coworker to lovers, oblivious pinning, flirting, confession, description of panic attack, claustrophobia & coping mechanisms, forced proximity, fluff, angst, character study, smut ( kissing ).

+wc. —3.1k ( shocker )

+syn.— last summer Izumo Haruichi came under your radar but this summer he has managed to get under your skin.

+notes. — part of ‘HELP WANTED’ mini server collab hosted by @interstellar-inn | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — @dear-koi @qichun @violet-turning-violet

The refectory of the office is oozing with ruckus this afternoon. It is not unusual but today it is just unbearable. The compartment plate in front of you is still filled with rice, curry, and salad as when you started eating your lunch. The line for the food is still alive; people are gossiping, taking food onto their plates, gossiping, taking spoons and forks, chopsticks— the sound of utensils clanking against each other one after another or sometimes all at once in sync is bugging you today. Your ears should be used to it by now after working for two years straight but it seems like a bother today. It is awfully loud in here. Everything is, even the heat.

Among this hustle and bustle, the only sound that bothers you the most is someone’s voice. It is faint to catch on from where you are sitting but the voice keeps coming to you in bits and pieces, like ebb and flow. Sometimes it is there and sometimes it is not. Sometimes your ears pick up on it but sometimes not and when it does not, your heart waits for it, even searches for the sound to reappear. And the heat is just making it worse. You can practically feel the beads of perspiration cascading through your cleavage as you search, waiting for the voice to turn up again. The air conditioner is on though, and the fans are working perfectly fine but with this kind of crowd, and heat in the dining place is at par with some blast furnaces.

“Well, I can take you there sometimes if you want,” Izumo states as one of the new interns, sitting diagonally to him, places a dumpling from her plate to his. Aoi Kaguragi, Izumo Haruichi, Reno Ichikawa, and Iharu Furuhasi are sitting at one table but Izumo is the most disconnected from them. 

“No. No. Haruichi-san, it’s fine. I can manage.” The girl sitting beside him pleads. A group of four girls who joined as new interns have occupied the table beside them. There is just a slit of partition between the two tables. Most tables are for a group of four people, but cubicle tables are cluttered together to make the team bigger, and better to establish a good workplace culture to some extent. 

Izumo expresses his thanks with a sun-kissed smile to the girl who just gave a dumpling to him, without asking. You make eye contact with him for a second but it's awkward. Aoi's nose shrinks. It acts as a distraction from Izumo’s azure gaze. Aoi stuffs his mouth with the dumpling Izumo just received out of disgust earning an alarming glare from Reno. Izumo does not even bat an eye to it. But the girl protests, “Hey. . .” Aoi glups it before saying, “he hates dumplings.” Iharu is busy eating his lunch. This guy . . . he woke up early, made breakfast for himself, got so busy and immersed with cooking that he forgot to eat. So, he is eating quietly. Reno keeps telling him to slow down but who is he? His dad?

“Well, wouldn't it be easier if you could get some directions and details?” The girl looks confused so Izumo divulges. “I live around there. So, yeah I could get you in touch with some agents if you want,” The girl looks at him with so much hope as if she has a chance to ask for the moon. 

“Oh my God. Really? Thank you so much Haruichi-san,” she chimes

Oh Fuck! Here it comes. Aoi, Reno, and Iharu share a look as you get up. The clank of your spoon was a little too loud to be ignored. Okonogi asks, “You didn’t even eat today too. Are you okay? Do you wanna leave soon today? I can finish your work if you want . . . ” 

“No. Kono-chan. It’s alright. I don’t feel hungry. I will eat when I feel hungry,”

“Yeah, gallons of coffee and tons of cakes,” Kikoru prompts without missing a beat. Your shoulders sink at her statement. She is not lying but gallons? Tons? That’s surely an exaggeration. You take your plate and as you walk past his table he gets up. Please let him not run into you. . . please god, please.

“Going to share the rest with your boyfriend?” He grabs a bottle from its designated section. You watch him walk, pick a bottle, and then come back but he halts in front of you blocking your way. Of course. Why didn’t you expect that? You should have taken a different route. 

“So what if I’m?” you squint your eyes at him since his Adam’s apple shift. Now, that’s different, unlike other days. Your eyebrows jump. Teasing each other is as easy as breathing for you and him. So, you just give in to this golden opportunity. “Your flirt game is so bad, no wonder you’re still single, Haruichi-san,” you snicker emphasizing ‘Haruichi-san’ since you have already been granted the authority to call him by his name but sometimes it is just amusing how he hates it when you do not use it; even if he specifically said that you can call him Izu-kun or simply Izumo. He just wanted to get included in your league of people; the people who you have given a nickname. It's almost like adopting a puppy.

Izumo rolls his tongue inside, along his bottom lip too quickly to pinpoint his frustration. He is pouting now. His hand proceeds to his nape scraping his hair for a moment in the hope of seeking some respite from this heat. Why does he even keep his hair long? Why not just cut it? Or put it in a bun. Your eyes go to the bunch of interns who are eagerly watching you two as if you are big stage actors. “My flirt game isn’t bad, . . . he trails off and then sighs. His hand swings back in his pocket as clarifies, “It’s just that . . . the person I like is a fucking idiot. That’s why I’m still single.”

You scan the group of interns at his valor display of vulgarity. Girls must find it hot, don’t they? That’s why he does it, isn't it? Good for him! He has an audience now. You bet they are practically swooning. Aoi’s face is a sight to behold. Iharu has given up. Even Reno has his head tipped down while holding the bridge of his nose. He is not someone who loses patience easily except Kafka Hibino, his mentor and co-worker.

“What a loverboy.” You opined to him before your gaze switched back to the girl who was trying all the ways to get his number. Yeah, it was very obvious especially since she was practically rubbing herself on him since the day she joined. How do people do that? Get hooked onto someone like the twinkle of a star. That too in this heat. It is hard enough to keep coherent behavior, thoughts, and habits intact but now you have another problem, Izumo Haruichi. He is being spectacularly annoying today. 

You look at the girl before saying anything. You will probably be doing her a favor. 

“don’t waste your time on him, he is going to break your heart, girl.” 

The spoon from her hands falls on the dish splashing a little bit of soup on her dress. People have already started to look at this table by now. 

“You’re just jealous,” the girl sneers back.

You part your lips forming an apology at the tip of your tongue but you realize the damage you have done. She hurriedly tries to clean herself with a napkin to avoid eye contact. 

You should not pick on people’s emotions like that, however small, however meek it may seem to you, it's a lot for them. What’s with you today? This is not like you. This is more like  . . . Haruichi. He has this habit. Maybe it's starting to rub off on you simply because he is now working with your team on this upcoming project.

Izumo has always been like this. Flirting with girls, leading them on, giving them hope, and then, breaking their hearts. Does he realize that? The hurt he leaves in his wake? He is like a swan in a lake leisurely swimming in the evening that attracts ducks, influencing them to be like the swan, elegant and beautiful when there is a surge of fresh batches of interns; every year. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it backfires.

His flirting is not limited to just girls. That’s how he became such close friends with Aoi. But then again, it is not exactly flirting. Could it be he is unaware of how he carries himself? Nah! That’s too much of giving him the benefit of the doubt or maybe has managed to charm a part of you. Yeah! That would happen in any case. He picks up on people’s emotions really quickly and does not hesitate to call them out. It’s a nasty habit. 

That is how much you know about him, as a co-worker. Outside this office, he is a total stranger to you. So, you do not have to look out for him, worry about being among the swarm of ducks, he might turn into one, or fearing if there hides a hawk among them.

“That’s too much talking for an intern,” Iharu remarks, taking his plate and standing up.

“I agree.” Reno nods his head. “Wait, what?” He is not surprised by Iharu’s statement but rather his wit. Before the situation gets elongated you try to put an end in your way but whether the bow will pierce the heart or the head you gamble on that.

“Yes. maybe you’re right. That was so rude of me. But you see,” you bow your head a little to match her eye level since her eyes are on her plate. “ I don’t go for committed boys.”

Izumo’s face is aghast. What did you just say? He is not committed. He is single. Excuse you, did you not hear him a while ago? 

Izumo looks at Aoi, clearly uncomfortable and frightened by your burst of bubbling behavior. That was odd of you. He has never seen you this annoyed. He has always been like this with you, teasing and flirting around you with other people. Maybe the heat is going in your head today. You walk towards the dustbin to empty your plate before keeping it on a designated table. Everyone watches you as Izumo follows you like a kicked puppy searching for his owner. It’s pathetic.

He is not pathetic . You are just dumb. How can you not get it? How can you not see it? His feelings for you? Well, not that he exactly laid his heart out in front of you but isn’t it obvious? Everybody on his team is aware of it. Everybody on your team is aware of it. Are you really that dumb? Or do you just choose to ignore his feelings? If it is the latter then he is done for. Perhaps, the fear of abandonment and rejection compels him to create backups while at the same time, it gives him a refuge to hide his feelings; keep them protected, warm, and soft; so that he can still talk to you, still be around you, breathe the same air as you.

After all, who would look for a leaf in a forest?

“Fancy a candy?” Izumo chimes as he leans against the door frame of the archive room while you slide the access card to open the door.

“No thank you.” You tartly reply with a poker face. God, he followed you here, which means he is gonna yap for as long as he is here and God forbid he better not talk about what just happened in the dining hall. 

Izumo mumbles to himself, stepping into the room, “Guess I’ll have it then,” with a pout.

“Did the storage closet door lock behind us?” you ask as the bang of the metal door sends jolts throughout your body.

“I think so,” Izumo walks towards the door to check. He hopes that you are not playing any prank or something but then again, who would like to be stuck in the archive room? Especially in summer when the air conditioner is out of service and the fans have been hopeless since last spring. Izumo hears a loud thud. As he turns he finds you curled up in a fetal position on the floor struggling to breathe.

“Oh no no no no” you blabber feeling the dread and anxiety piling on top of your body. It is getting heavier. Seeing you like that, Izumo forgets what to do. At first, his feet move slowly though, then he quickens his pace but finally skids towards you since his calf muscles betray him.

“Breath. Look at me.” His voice is so faint or maybe you are already sinking in the depth of the attack. You know what to do. The tactic to overcome this. But with people around it gets harder. Most people do not know what to do and even if they did they are only aware of the ‘321’ rule since it is easier to remember, faster to execute, and the default suggestion before the medic arrives. Right. Medic. You can call, right? You touch your hips for your cellphone feeling only your skin and clothes. Your phone is at your work desk. Fuck. Your only hope is this guy, Izumo Haruichi.

“That’s not. . . it. you inhale barely but manage to say the next set of words in one breath. 

“That 321 rule doesn’t work on me.”

Immediately, your chest starts to feel heavy. Your head feels heavy. Your breathing is labored.

“Yes, I know. I know.” Izumo assures. His voice is so still, so even that it gathers all scattered pieces on him finally. “54321 it is.” He adds. He tries to make you sit but you are so stiff under the influence of fear that even with his strength he is in no luck. Moreover, he does not want you to treat him as a threat rather than a cane to grab on.

“Identify 5 things you can see,” 

Your eyes roam everywhere, to the farthest point it can see things. It has already started to itch and water. You blink rashly before mumbling. “Files—you inhale a long breath. “cabinets, AC, tables, chairs” 

“Next. 4 things you can touch” 

“The wall,” you say and touch it. You can finally sit up now, leg sprawled on the hot floor. Next, you touch your i-card. “My ID card.” Then your hair clip. “my hair clip,” unfastening it from your hair letting your hair fall onto your shoulders; it's a turquoise one today, and finally his ID card. You grab it in your hand and watch closely, flipping it too to glance at the other side . What an awful picture of Izumo .

“Your ID card.” 

Izumo holds you by the arms. His touch feels cold against yours. The full-sleeve dress is the only barrier between his skin and yours. Your palms clamp around his upper wrists. 

“Okay, 3 things you can hear:” 

“A.C.” 

“Fans.”

“Your voice,”

Izumo nods every time but it becomes slow at your third pick. 

“2 things you can smell.” It sinks in him: how in desperation and hunger you seek whatever you can get.

You take your scented handkerchief out of your pocket. Izumo takes it and holds it against your nose. Your exhaustive eyes look at him. His perfume smells rather too sweet today. You fall into his chest, embracing him. “Your perfume,” You whisper nuzzling against him. He is still sitting with his legs folded. You can hear his heartbeat, yours too. You are alive. You are very much alive.

“1 thing you can taste,” He says in a low voice, like the start of a lullaby. Reluctantly you pull your face away and look up. At this angle you can see his tongue, it’s white due to the candy. Could it be lichi flavored? There is still a bit of it left, peeking against his teeth.

Curiosity cascades into your body like rain and soaks him wet in a fraction of a second. It is an entirely foreign sensation for Izumo: Your lips are plush and soft with no hint of lipstick. The way your fingers press into his chest is unforgiving to his taut muscles creating a sense of pain, but a different kind of pain; the good kind. You are desperate and forceful. Your lips taste like spicy and honey. What did you have for lunch today? 

WAIT. You break the kiss. Izumo is as stunned as you are. His azure is asking why did you stop? You are still holding on to him. How did he know that the ‘321’ rule does not work on you? Moreover, how did he know that you have claustrophobia in the first place? 

Ah! Now it makes sense.

The realization paints your mind like it's high on drugs. Before you can think twice, your hands trail up to his nape enveloping his face. He instantly pulls you into his lap folding his legs one over the other to make you comfortable. He is swift and strong. This time, he is the one to demand first. The candy must have melted by now. It was coconut-flavored. You do not remember swallowing it neither does he but only the feeling of your lips on his, his on yours. He pulls away from the kiss gasping for air. His mouth and nose are cherry-tinted. He is getting an earful from Aoi for sure.

“I have texted Aoi.” His hands recoil back into his pocket from under your shirt. “He will be here soon.”

Izumo looks at the ground. Is it awkward? Yeah! Definitely. Does he want this to get over with? NO!NEVER. Damn him for wanting you. Damn him for craving you even at desperation like this.

You give him a long hum. “Why do you look like a crumpled receipt? It’s not like I will break your heart once we are out of the room, Izumo.” You place a kiss on his cheek. “Still have to thank you for saving my life.” 

You get out of his lap. He blinks hopelessly. Yeah, his suffering isn’t going to end . You still are as dense as a cabbage and so defenseless, so tactless, by god it drives him nuts. “I love you,” Izumo mumbles to himself. Aoi opens the door as you look at Izumo. 

“What did you just say?” Both of you walk side by side as you two walk out of the room. Aoi is still holding the door.

“Nothing” You continue to scrutinize him with your eyes.  “I said, I hate you.”

You smile. “Yeah! I hate you too.” 

Poor Aoi is still holding the door witnessing the cheesiest corny confession ever.

—

network: @underratedcharactercorner

[r4vn]

–LATE BLOSSOM

farleıgh x reader 【1/3】

w.c: 2,183

disclaimers: sensual tension, dilf!farleigh, secretary!reader, beginning of the good stuff be patient please!, oliver is a good person (*gasp*), companyAU!, cutesy, intro, pls dont bored im cooking guys *_*

—synopsis: you went to work expecting a normal day, when suddenly your boss tells you that you have been moved under new management in a new building. you now work right under the man who owns the company, and nearly a year in, he is still full of surprises.

a/n: hello! i was inspired by @girlboybug to write a fic on dilf!farleigh. this is the beginning but i hope you stay with me till the end! please be patient with me my summer has been (fortunately) real busy! ty so much for the support!

– part ²: here.

「divider by @/ cafekitsune」

you sort of always considered that you got a late start in life. never in academics and such, but in adulthood. you had your first kiss way later than everyone else, at 18. you got your driver license late at 20, due to your fear of driving, and you got your first flat around 22 years of age. you were now 26 and living a very, well, uneventful life. you worked at a real estate corporation for the last 3 years of your life. you worked, sometimes went to the gym afterwards, and went home.

everyone you knew were beginning their lives, getting married, having kids, or simply just moving in with their significant others. you lived in a shared apartment, with no kids, and certainly no lover. your last known boyfriend was back when you were 20. the guy was a major narcissist, who nearly liked to kiss himself in the mirror and never really treated you well. it lasted for about 6 months before you were done with him.

you would occasionally go out with your roommate, oliver. whenever the two of you had the evening off. oliver is relatively a nice guy, who had a small wild side. whenever the two of you would go out he would always outdrink you and you never could catch up with his tolerance. you loved challenging him even if you could never beat him. other than hanging out with oliver, work was practically your life.

who you worked for, was a little more interesting. about six months ago, you switched buildings under different management. it was rather very abrupt in the day. you walked into your job and sat down at your desk outside your boss's room before your then boss asked you why you were here. you were confused, before she explained that you were moved under a different building and why. that morning you quickly drove to your new workplace and practically ran through the cubicles. you finally made it to the elevator and press floor 60, the top floor, and ran down the hall in your black mary janes and short pencil skirt.

you cursed to yourself for wearing such a skirt on this day. why did this have to happen to you of all people? a sudden job switch was not on the list this morning. you finally arrived at office room 636 quickly checked the time. you were exactly 5 minutes early.

oh thank god. i can breathe..

you began to slow your breathing. suddenly, you noticed how this particular office door was auburn brown instead of black like all the other doors. your brows narrowed before finding the nameplate on the door.

" farleigh start

saltburn estates, CEO "

you gulped, darting your head to each end of the ironically empty hallway. you've only worked under general managers and supervisors, never a CEO. why were you even hired for this job? your hand grabbed the door and you pushed it open, knocking simultaneously. you wore a mostly confident smile as you finally faced your new boss.

"good morning, sir." you greeted. the male brunette looked up from his laptop and his brows immediately furrowed.

"who're you?" he asked, clearly perplexed.

"i'm– [y/n, l/n] ..your new secretary. i uh ..i was moved from a different building to fill your last one's spot after she left." you explained. farleigh subtly looked you up and down that morning before smiling gently at you.

"well hello [y/n], wonderful to meet you." your cheeks warmed, nodding at him. he seemed charming for sure.

"same to you." you looked down at your shoes, smiling to yourself. you thought he was pretty, gorgeous even. his curls were tight and defined. he had shiniest brown eyes with the longest lashes and god, his cheekbones fit him so well. the lined-up scruffiness that occupied his jaw and chin made him more intimidating. not in a bad way, but more of a mysterious and intriguing one. he wore his black on black suit very well. you dont think you've seen a more handsome man in your life.

"you like croissants?" he suddenly asked. you were taken back at the sudden random question but immediately nodded. he snapped, and pointed a finger gun at you, smiling.

"fantastic, can you grab us some croissants from the cafe block down? doesn't matter what kind you get. use the company card." you nodded and shuffled your way to the door to exit his office. you couldn't help but smile, getting a feeling that this job may be more eventful than your last.

fast forward 9 months, life ironically got just a little brighter after switching job positions. working for farleigh was the same work, essentially but somehow it felt different. you were looking forward to working nearly every shift now. farleigh's various food requests left you on the craziest goose chases around the city. from getting thai food on the west side of london to vietnamese or very specific macarons on the east.

what made these adventures more fun was due to farleigh texting you throughout your walks or drives through the city. he wanted your number to make sure you updated him on your way there, and for your safety. you never texted him outside of work, you were too afraid he would turn you down in a way, and that would be super embarrassing.

"and so you saw two pigeons break dancing on the sidewalk?" farleigh asked with a grin. you laughed, nodding in response to his question. you placed the 16-count box of assorted macarons on mr.start's desk, smiling.

"well, they sure were not playing rock-paper-scissors. so i went with the realistic decision that they were break-dancing." you grinned. a chuckle slipped past farleighs lips, causing your chest to feel warmer.

"right, [y/n]. because pigeons fighting wasn't another good answer." the brunette playfully deadpanned before laughing one last time. he eagerly opened the box of fresh macarons, grabbing a coffee flavored one. he took a bite and immediately closed his eyes in contentment. you made a mental note he always saved most of the coffee macarons for last. whether it be 2 or 6 in the 16-count, he made sure he ate one first and another last.

"talk to me about today, [y/n]." farleigh mentions. you snap out of your mental folder on your boss and open your laptop up for today's schedule.

"you have a 10:30am call with finance, a 12:00pm call with crisis management, a 2:00pm meeting with advertisement, and a 4:00pm team meeting with floor supervisors." farleigh grabs another macaron, raspberry flavored while listening.

"hmm ..let's reschedule my 2:00pm with the advertisement team tomorrow, that way i won't be completely bored with my one meeting tomorrow with janet." he suggested. janet was the chief operating officer, the COO.

"yes sir." you nod and began rescheduling the preferred meeting. he thanked you, eating the rest of the macaron in his hand. your eyes then glanced over, watching as his thumb wiped the corner of his mouth. he licked his lips, causing you to immediately look away. you felt a little flustered in the face, because anything that man did was attractive to you.

"i think for the brunch meeting on friday i move it to monday ..and ...so i can.." you vaguely listened to farleigh ramble. your boss always rambled out of anxiousness yet he did everything so calmly and smoothly. how he did it was so attractive to you. he wasn't a boy with a high position, but a man with a well-deserving job. the way he carried himself simply lured you in. you blinked away your thoughts of your boss and cleared your throat.

"siiir," you start with a singy-songy tone. "you have 10 minutes to speak to finance. floor 59." you add, chuckling as farleigh caught himself rambling. he pursed his lips together trying to both shut up and not smile. he held up his index finger to signal you to give him a a moment and then rigorously typed away at his computer. a moment passed, and the tall male slowly began standing up out of his chair as he typed.

"sir.." you press on, giggling. he playfully hushed you, finally stopped typing and closed the laptop. farleigh grabbed his blazer off the back of his chair to exit.

being mr.start's secretary has allowed you to learn to relax at work. maybe it's because you never knew the word around your last job, but farleigh would catch you stressing out before telling you to take a breather. he wasn't the most extroverted person you knew but the minimal talking you two did, you cherished. you recapped your day in your mind every evening before bed. if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was your work crush. but of course, you'd never admit that even to yourself. the two of you walk out the office together, side by side.

°°°

it was early evening and many employees were wrapping up their shift. it was a rather smooth day of talking business and building contracts.

"its getting late in the day, you sure you want to stay until i leave?" farleigh questioned, groaning as he sat back down in his own personal office chair. he was drained from speaking to several people today, but glad he could enjoy another few macarons now.

"why not? i don't have anything better to do." you shrugged and laughed sheepishly. farleigh had raised a brow, eating a vanilla macaron.

"you don't go out?" you open your mouth to answer farleighs question and close it, thinking of a way to explain your social status. there was nothing to fully elaborate on really but you really didn't want to look like a loner to mr.start.

"well," you began. "i go out with my roommate occasionally, but other than that my schedule consists of work, the gym, and home." farleigh hums in response. he grabbed another coffee macaron and held it up towards you, offering it. you got up and happily accepted the sweet pastry from the mams slender digits.

"i understand, i'd like to say i'm the same way. but this weekend i am going to a business event. it's not the greece or new zealand but atleast im out of this damned building." the two of you share a laugh at his words. his phone digs, and his brown eyes divert to the notification appearing on his phone.

"oh nonono.." you hear your boss mumble, making you perk up.

"whats wrong, sir?" you ask. he sighed loudly and flipped his phone over, rubbing his scruffy jaw with his hand.

"i uh– my babysitter just canceled on me the day of the business event." babysitter? you tilt your head, trying to keep your shock suppressed but slowly fail.

"you have a child?" you ask, clearly bewildered while farleigh looked up at you chuckling. his pearly whites nearly mesmerized you.

"yes, [y/n] i have a child. a son." you swallow thickly at his words. your mind couldn't help but wander. how have you worked for the ceo of one of england's biggest real estate companies for nearly a year now and never knew he had a son?

"i didn't know that. what's his name if i may ask?" you continued. you didn't want to pry, but this was the type of news that needed questions to be asked. it made you wonder if farleigh was married now.

"his name benjamin. i didn't expect you to know that i have a son. i keep my personal life very separate from work. behind the scenes as such." farleigh explains, picking up his phone to respond to the text.

"and your babysitter just canceled?" you repeat, trying to quickly piece together an image of farleigh with a miniature version of him.

"yes, unfortunately. it's so last minute considering it is thursday and the event is saturday." farleigh sets his phone back down and opens just computer again, sighing. a mildly comfortable silence laid over the room, yet you were still tense. your mind gears kept generating the same idea and you kept silently denying it until–

"i could babysit for you." you blurted out. farleighs fingers stopped typing at the keys and he looked your way. he raised a brow with inquisitiveness, scanning your face to see if you were serious. you were.

"you, would babysit my son?" he asks. you cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding.

"w-why not? i mean– i am your secretary, the closest person to you in his building." farleigh tried his damndest to keep his smile to a minimum as he gazed at you and you watched at the corners of his lips twitched. "be at my place at 1:30pm. i'll send my address the morning of."

you finally smiled, nodding before going back to your work on your laptop till the end of your shift. admittedly, you were excited to meet benjamin, and a little more excited to see mr.start's home.

© r4vn ²⁰²⁴, do not repost my work

stay tuned! ♡

[joshsindigostreak]

Blue Christmas 💙🎄

Authors notes: Hi y’all!! This spawned from a dream I had the other morning and I couldn’t get it out of my head. My first official Rom-Com, and friends to lovers! Shout out to @gretasmokerising and @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine to hearing me out with this idea and yelling at me to write it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 6813

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, and SMUT at the end! MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap y’all’s willies), alcohol use, agonizing mutual pining? I think that’s it.

It had been 4 weeks, 2 days, and 7 hours since Josh Kiszka had last spoken to you. The most he had ignored you since the day you met over 2 years ago. His cubicle was stationed next to yours, and you could always look to your right to see him typing away at his computer, eyes trained at the screen and never once glancing over at you. He would arrive in the mornings silently, and clock out at 5 without a word. But it was the lunch hours that hurt the most. Ever since you had started this job, he was always your lunch buddy. He showed you where all the good vending machines were, and how to get down to the courtyard on the bottom floor where most of the office population ate their lunches. You hadn’t seen him down in that courtyard since…the incident…and you sat at your usual table most days hoping you’d see him come through the double doors, lunch in hand and a smile on his face. But in the weeks since, he had either eaten elsewhere or stayed in his cubicle working. A few times you tried to stay behind as well, hoping the silence from being the ones in your general vicinity on your floor would coax him into conversation, but it didn’t work. 

But what was this “incident”? What was the catalyst to make him so cold to you all of a sudden? As you twirled your mouse over your screen pretending to be busy, your thoughts drifted back to the day everything changed. 

Josh had a usual lunch table. It was in the courtyard, but in the back corner where he could have the best privacy. This back section used to be the smoking section before smoking was banned per company policy, but they left all of the plants and hedges in place that separated it from the rest of the courtyard. His lunch hour was sacred. It was the part of his day that he could be by himself and not have to talk to anyone if he didn’t want to. Not a lot of people sat back there, which was another blessing. But he didn’t mind sharing it with you. He jumped at the chance to show it to you on your first day. You made a comment about how it was very “Rainforest Cafe” that endeared you to him even more. Ever since, it has been the two of you back there, hidden amongst the hedges. 

That day wasn’t much different from any other, a run-of-the-mill Tuesday in the middle of November. For that time of the year, it was unusually warm, so you felt that it was imperative to take advantage of it and sit outside when you still could. You made your way down to your table, walking past various coworkers chattering away. You could smell the Caesar salad through the container in your hand and you couldn’t wait to dive into it. Finally you made it to your table in the back corner, with your lunch buddy sitting with his back to you as he typed away at his laptop. He was a true workaholic, but his efforts never went unnoticed. Your immediate boss, Ted, always gave shout outs to Josh in meetings, and you would be lying if you said the way Josh’s face would tinge pink every time didn’t melt your heart. He was absolutely terrible at taking compliments. He was deserving of all the praise, hell he deserved a promotion at this point with how much he led the team, but he would get so bashful whenever someone would tell him so.  Sometimes…you would compliment him on purpose just to see the color rise in his cheeks, and if you were lucky, a glimpse of the dimple on his left side.

You slid onto the bench that was bolted to the table, a fixture that hadn’t been updated since the nineties, you were sure. Normally you sat across from him, but today you just had the itch to be in his personal space. 

“Whatcha working on?” You asked as you popped open the container for your salad.

“I am working on…a PowerPoint…,” he quipped, giving you a playful sideways glance. 

You nodded, letting him type and fill up the current slide as you dumped your salad dressing into the container and mixed it with the greens and grilled chicken. After a few minutes of silence, you leaned over to him, brushing your shoulder against his, “you need a cool transition. No PowerPoint is complete without a cool transition.” 

At this he stopped typing and turned his face towards yours, seemingly unbothered with how close you were to him, “I can just see the look on Ted’s face when he hears the ‘whoosh’ between slides about projected first quarter profit margins.”

 

“That man needs a good laugh. Or to get laid. Maybe both,” you nudged his shoulder before going back to your lunch. 

“Don’t we all…,” Josh mumbled to himself. You almost asked him what he meant but he was quickly back at it, filling out bullet points and inserting graphs on the side. It wasn’t unusual to see him this engrossed in his work, but frankly, you were bored. This was the one hour you could truly hang out with him and not have to talk shop. Your friend needed to relax, and not let his work become his life. He always told you that the more he got done during the day meant the less he had to do when he got home, but you knew that was a lie. He always came in the next day with more work than when he left, and sometimes you wondered if that laptop bag of his was surgically attached to his shoulder. 

Your salad was long gone and Josh was still typing away, clicking back and forth from his data and his project. Knowing what would get his attention, you innocently poked at his side, and held back a laugh when he flinched and smiled. This spurred you on, and you poked his arm now, forcing him to make a typo. He was trying so hard to not give in, to not give you the satisfaction that he was amused, but he was failing. 

You upped your ante by reaching for his ear. Gently, you ran your fingertip down the shell of his ear, feeling every curve and contour before brushing the skin next to his earlobe. This caused Josh to visibly shudder, and he tried to cover it up by suddenly jerking his head to the side to pretend to bite your finger. You erupted in giggles before you were aware of how close his face was to your hand. Before you could stop yourself, you extended your fingers to lightly cup his jaw. Instead of backing away, he leaned into your touch, a move that neither of you were expecting. His fingers stilled on the keyboard, and slowly backed away and into his lap he turned his body to face yours. 

The logical side of you wanted to just laugh and lean back onto your end of the bench as if nothing happened, but the other side of you, the side that needed him, was telling that first side to shut the fuck up. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, you leaned closer to him, and you hitched a breath when you saw him do the same. There was no space between the two of you, your right thigh was firmly against his left, heat radiating through both of your respective slacks. 

Before either of you could think about it too much, Josh closed the gap between you and slotted his lips onto yours, lazily taking your bottom lip into his mouth. The action caused you to moan against him, and you seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The professional side of you was screeching in your head that you were literally at work and in a courtyard full of people, but the rest of you argued back that no one could see you given how tall the hedges were. 

One of Josh’s hands slid up to your face, mirroring what you were doing to him, and his other hand snaked around your waist, desperate to have you closer. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and he opened up for you instantly. For several moments, you made out like teenagers on that bench. 

You weren’t close enough to him, and before you could protest he lifted you up and over his lap, allowing you to straddle him. He was thanking God that the greenery was so overgrown that you couldn’t be seen in the position you were in. 

As you settled down onto his lap, the rigid outline of his cock pressed up against you, and you instinctively grinded down on him. He bit your bottom lip to keep himself from moaning too loud, but it was futile as that only caused you to let out a breathy moan of your own.

He was kissing you like he was starving, and you couldn’t get over just how good he felt. You always stole glances at his lips, noting how perfect his cupid's bow was and they were the most enviable shade of pink. 

But just as you lowered yourself back down to grind on him even more, a very loud and obnoxious cackle was let out across the courtyard. Of course it was Vera’s obnoxious ass laughing at whatever the fuck. This caused Josh to break away from you, sobering him up to the situation. He was suddenly very aware of you straddling him, with bruised lips and tousled hair. He couldn’t…he couldn’t be here much longer or else he wouldn’t be able to stop. Without any preamble he guided you off his lap and slid out the other side of the bench and adjusted his belt buckle and smoothed down his shirt. He didn’t even glance at you when he shut his laptop and turned to leave, quickly mumbling about needing to run to the bank before his lunch hour was up. It was a clear lie, but he didn’t give you a chance to call him out on it before nearly running out of that courtyard, leaving you dazed and…very wet…on that bench. 

You leaned back in your office chair and rolled your eyes at the memory, not because you didn’t love it, or that it didn’t replay in your head every time you saw the man, but because you were afraid it completely fucked up your friendship with Josh. Before you on your screen was a reminder email about the company Christmas Party that was being held this weekend. You wanted to go, but the thought of mingling with coworkers while Josh continued to ignore you made you want to crawl under your desk and never come out. Because of his outstanding job performance, he was put on the planning committee and thus would have to be there. There was no avoiding him. 

With a resigned sigh you glanced over at his desk, hoping to see him, but finding it Josh-less. Instead you heard his voice chattering away at another desk, leaning against the entrance to a nearby cubicle. To everyone else, he was his normal talkative self, but for you, he was silent and cold. What the actual fuck was his problem? The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off. Just who does he think he is by kissing you like that, touching you like that, fulfilling the fantasies you’ve had in your head for months, only to throw you away essentially and leave you high but not very dry? Fuck him, but not in the literal sense. He didn’t deserve that. A plan was forming in your head. You were going to show up to that party pushing every button you knew how to push with him. After working for him for nearly two years, you knew what made that man tick. You had picked up on several preferences of his via passing comments, jokes, or flat out remarks. 

And you were going to exploit every single one of them. 

When the day of the party arrived, you looked over at your outfit laid out on your bed. A beautiful long sleeved navy blue velvet dress. Why blue? Well that color had become an inside joke between the two of you, stemming from an exchange on your very first day in the office. 

You were settling into your new cubicle, arranging your things and figuring out just where you wanted everything to go. The size of your desk surprised you, as you were expecting a smaller space given you were a new hire, but the expanse of the desk gave you so much more room to work with. It was a blessing as you tended to spread out your paperwork around you throughout your day, a habit that your old boss noted every time she walked by your desk. 

As you reached into your box full of things you brought from home, your hand settled on the third Funko Pop you had picked out of your collection. Your Funko of Daphne from Scooby Doo had been one of the first you had bought when you started your collection, and she meant a lot to you. 

“You take them out of the box?” An unfamiliar yet pleasant voice interrupted your thoughts and you nearly dropped the box you were holding from being startled. 

Snapping your head up at the source, you were greeted by a rather…gorgeous man with curious big brown eyes. You had briefly seen him when your new boss was giving you a tour of the area you would be working in, and he had been getting something out of the supply closet. 

“Sorry?”

“Your Funkos…you take them out of the box?” 

Realizing what he was referring to, you chuckled slightly in embarrassment, “oh don’t start, my brother already gives me enough shit about ‘ruining their value’ whenever he comes over and sees my collection. They just look so sad sitting in them. They need to be free!”

This caused the stranger to smile as he extended his hand for you to shake, “I’m Josh, your new neighbor across the way.” He dramatically threw a glance over his shoulder at his own cubicle across from yours. You gladly shook his hand and told him your own name, which he repeated softly. 

You continued to pull more items out of your box as he stood there, not minding you had company. In the panic to get what you needed for your new job, you had inadvertently brought mostly blue office supplies. Blue post-its, blue binders, blue pens; it was as if your brain found one color it liked in the store and made you match everything to calm your nerves. 

“Your sweater matches your binders…,” Josh observed. 

This was your second time you looked up at him in embarrassment, “Oh! Yeah…purely unintentional. It’s my nicest one and I wanted to make a good-”

“It looks nice on you, that shade of blue,” he interrupted. 

Before you could stop yourself, you started rattling off a quote from one of your favorite films, “Oh this sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise, it's not lapis, it's-"

"...actually cerulean?" 

The smile that spread across your face could light up the entire room, it wasn’t a niche reference, but you were so glad he picked up on it and you didn’t embarrass yourself a third time. After that, your friendship with Josh quickly blossomed, and the ‘blue’ joke got to a point where Josh was calling you Blue to your face, a nickname that stuck no matter how many times you told him to stop. 

Six months into your stay at your current job, you walked into work thinking nothing of the date, but when you got to your desk you saw a familiar small white box with a blue bow taped to the top. You dropped your bag onto your desk and picked it up. Turning it over in your hands you saw that it was a Miranda Priestly Funko, and while you instantly understood who gave it to you, you were confused at the occasion. 

“Happy Six Months, Blue,” Josh said warmly behind you, startling you. 

“Six months?”

“Since you started here! I saw it online and you’ve worked really hard these last six months so I just thought…you needed a token of appreciation.” He leaned towards you and whispered, “since you and I both know corporate doesn’t keep up with such things.” 

You smiled up at him, warmed by the gesture, “thanks Josh…” 

After a few seconds of awkwardly standing there, Josh piped up, “go on…free her from her plastic prison. She’s running out of air and it's getting dark! I’m frightened for her.” Giggles escaped your mouth as you ripped open the box and freed your new Funko. She was put next to your Daphne, as they both held strong sentimental value now. 

You shook your head from the memories, needing to focus on the task at hand. Slipping on the dress and securing your heels, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror before you left for the party. Your hair was perfect, your eyelids dusted with a champagne-colored shimmer, and your lips were adorned with a neutral matte red. There was no way he could ignore you with the way you looked. 

Or so you thought. 

After nearly an hour of mingling, your “friend” had yet to even walk passed you. In fact it was pretty obvious he was avoiding you. He was only on the stupid decorating committee but you’d think he was the host of the entire party with the way he was flitting about the employees, giving them warm greetings and thanking them for coming. You didn’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy, but you kept deliberately putting yourself in his line of vision and he acted like you weren’t there. What the fuck? 

At this point, you were standing with a bunch of your coworkers on your floor, trying to not make it obvious you were glaring at Josh while slowly sipping your cocktail. By the grace of God, one of the men from your floor walked over with Josh in tow, firmly planting him in the little group that had gathered. He still avoided your gaze, keeping his eyes on Brad who clapped him on the shoulder and praised him for a project he had recently finished and was going to present next week. 

Your friend Stacy waved her hand at them, “oh come on no work talk tonight, we get enough of that during the day.” 

“I know, I know but Josh ran his ideas by me the other week and was telling me how it all came together at the end, I’m happy for him,” Brad defended. 

What? Josh never ran ideas with anyone else but you. You were always his first choice whenever he had something cooking in his head. Hell, you didn’t even know he had a big project lined up. But there he was, cheeks flushing at the praise. Under any other circumstances, your heart would stutter at the sight, adoring how bashful he could be, but right now? Right now it pissed you off, and you were on your second cocktail of the night. Your filter was nonexistent. 

“You told Brad about your new project?” You blurted out, slightly slurring your speech. 

At last, Josh finally addressed you, “yes? I wanted to run some numbers by him just to double che-”

“But you always run your ideas by me?” Unfortunately, the alcohol also made it impossible for you to hide the hurt in your voice. “You always ask to pick my brain on things.”

You took a step forward, “yes you do, and I always run my ideas by you in return. They always note how well we work together in meetings.” The rest of your coworkers stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do as you verbally sparred. You didn’t care, you stared at Josh barely blinking. His jaw was clenched, lips set in a line. But you couldn’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth, “you don’t even like Brad! You told me his projections were always off and he talks too much during meetings which is rich coming from-”

At this, Josh handed his drink off to the closest person and quickly grabbed your hand to pull you away from the group. He guided you through the crowd, and you dropped off your empty glass on a random table, not caring where it was. The only thing you could focus on was the warmth from his hand, and how he effortlessly laced your fingers together as he walked. This was the first time he had even touched you since that lunchtime makeout session. 

He swung the outside door open, leading you out onto the side deck of the venue. No one else was out here due to the cold, and the cold wind sobered you up a little. You stood next to the deck rail, glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Josh?!” 

“What the fuck Josh? How about what the fuck, Blue?!” He’s giving you the hardest look he’s ever given you, his eyes a darker shade of brown you weren’t used to seeing, and no cheek dimple in sight. He continued, “I am preventing you from getting fired for running your mouth in front of everyone.” 

You sneer, “since when do you care what my mouth does?” 

He clenches his jaw again, and he swallows hard enough to see his Adam's apple bob beneath the gorgeous white turtleneck he was wearing. “You know what, I think you need to just stay out here for the rest of the night, and lay off the eggnog.” 

He started to walk off but you grabbed his arm before he could leave, “no, you don’t get to do this again. You have ignored me for nearly a month now.” You lowered your voice even though it was only the two of you outside, “we never even talked…about it…was I that bad?”

He spins to face you, and backs you up against the deck rail, placing both hands on either side of you, bracketing yourself between his arms. He stares at you for a few more seconds, before declaring in a gruff voice, “you were absolutely incredible, and that's the problem.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he continued, “I have done nothing but think of you since that day, hell I thought about you every single day before that. Ever since you walked into that office, in that fucking blue sweater, your perfectly coordinated desk supplies, your intelligence, the way you always have a comeback for everything…Blue, I could not get you out of my head even if I tried. But that day? When I finally got to taste you? Have you in my arms? It ruined me. Ruined me for everyone else. The mere thought of even talking to you afterwards sent all my blood south and I can’t walk around the office with a fucking boner, can I?”  You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off again, “and you show up here tonight, looking like this, knowing how much I love you in blue…you wicked little thing.” 

Just then, the door to the outside was swung open by someone that worked on a different floor, and you guessed they got the hint because they quickly went back inside. But as the door closed behind them, the two of you could hear Blue Christmas by Elvis being played loudly through the speakers inside. How appropriate. 

All of your worst case scenarios that had haunted your mind the last few weeks weren’t even true at all. Josh’s words had your heart hammering in your chest, and having him this close to you after a month-long cut off had you aching. His breath was hot as it fanned over your face, the rich chocolate of his irises that matched his brown suit were smoldering before you. Reaching up, you gently cupped his jaw the same way you did weeks ago on that bench, and just like before he leaned into your hand his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Blue…,” he whispered against your palm. 

“I missed you so fucking much. I don’t think you understand how empty I felt without you talking to me every day. Not hearing your daily complaints, not making me laugh, no eye contact during meetings when they got boring? I sat downstairs every single day, at our usual table, hoping to see you, but you never showed. I felt like I did something horribly wrong and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me otherwise,” he shook his head against your hand,  “You just shut me out with no explanation.”

“No..no I’m sorry for that…it was stupid, and cruel of me. I just didn’t know what to do. Every time I tried to talk myself into talking to you, it resulted in me thinking of scenarios that would’ve had us end up with multiple HR violations, and I just couldn’t do it.” He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed. 

“Well, Kiszka, what are you going to do about it now?”

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he finally opened his eyes to look over your shoulder at the sprawling grounds of the country club. 

“What if I told you, that when we were looking for venues, I noticed that this particular one has an entire property just for a garden, that's currently out of season, and that there’s a greenhouse off to the side that they keep some of the plants indoors over the winter?” 

You were tempted to look over your shoulder to see what he was looking at, but you didn’t want your eyes to leave his face.

“Are you suggesting…?”

“I’m saying that I need to finish what I started four weeks ago.” 

Before you could respond he took your hand and led you down the steps of the deck and out onto the frost-covered lawn. The entrance to the garden wasn’t very far, but it was nestled in a brick fence. Once inside and out of sight, you got a glimpse at your surroundings. The garden was definitely winterized and dormant, but the hedges were evergreen and tall, successfully blocking anyone who might peer over to that side of the property from the main building. His fingers were still laced with yours as he took a sharp left and down a narrow path. As you traveled deeper into the garden, the party noise slowly fizzled out, and by the time you got to the greenhouse in question, you could barely hear anything other than the wind rustling branches. 

“It’s probably locked…,” you suggested, trying not to sound disappointed.

Josh briefly panicked, not quite thinking about that when he came up with this plan, but he quickly reached up to feel the top of the door frame. When his fingertips landed on cold metal, he nearly said a prayer out loud in gratitude. He held the key up to you, before spinning back around and trying it in the lock. As fate would have it, the lock clicked and the handle turned easily, granting you access. 

Inside, there were a few space heaters already running to keep the chilly night air outside. The temperature difference as you stepped inside was stark, and you shut the door behind you to keep any more winter air from coming in. One of the tables in the middle of the room had been cleaned off recently, with no pots or excess dirt littering the surface. When he was satisfied in his choice for this tryst, he turned around to face you again and backed you up into the door, colliding his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him even closer. His hands flexed and kneaded your hips through the velvet fabric of your dress; his fingertips slowly bunching the material higher and higher until they met the skin underneath. He ran his hands along your skin, stopping abruptly when he felt the lacy material of your thong. He mapped out the lace blindly, tracing the woven pattern while pulling away from your lips to pant harshly against your face. 

“You were really walking around that party wearing these?”

“...you should see my bra…”

The only light in the greenhouse was from the waxing gibbous moon in the sky, streaming its moonbeams through the glass windows. But even with the limited light, you could see Josh’s eyes darken even more at your words. He couldn’t take it anymore, and reached down to firmly grip the back of your thighs and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and he backed up and carefully set you back down on the cleared off table. His lips moved to your neck now, sucking bruises onto your skin, not giving a shit about the marks he left behind. You were his, goddamnit. Now that you were on the surface of the table, he reached back under your dress to tug your thong down your legs. He backed up just enough to slip it off your ankles and past your heels, but he didn’t let it fall to the floor, he looped it around his fingers to hold in front of his face to get a better look at it in the moonlight. It was fucking…blue. You wore dark blue lingerie tonight? Your mission to torture him was succeeding, and another growl grumbled in his chest. Your words from earlier echoed in his head, and after shoving your thong in his pocket, he quickly started tugging your dress off of you. Lifting your dress over your head, his eyes raked down your body. The height of the table gave him a perfect, eye level view of your breasts. The lace that perfectly cupped your flesh matched the thong in his pocket, and he had to lean against his hands on the edge of the table to compose himself. The wood dug into his skin a thought occurred to him, and he immediately ripped his jacket off and swung it around, laying it down behind you, so you wouldn’t have to feel the cold table against your skin. He looked up at you, silently asking permission and when you nodded his hands landed on your breasts, squeezing them through the lace. 

Josh stood before you, wearing absolutely too much in his white turtleneck and slacks. It was incredibly unfair, and you needed to fix that. In your tangle of limbs you clawed at the back of his shirt to pull it off of him. He got the hint and flung it over his head, letting it land on top of your dress beside you. Now it was your turn to gawk at him. This was the most you had ever seen of Josh at this point, and the sight of his perfectly unmarred skin in the moonlight had you drooling. Your hands itched to squeeze his shoulders and dig your nails into his skin. In a flurry, your bra quickly came off, nipples hardening in the chilly air. His mouth immediately closed around one of them, causing you to throw your head back and a reedy sigh escaped your lips. 

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, you needed more. You needed him. Now. 

“Josh…please…,” you whined. 

He nodded and moaned against your chest, before popping off and returning to your mouth. As his lips devoured yours he reached down to undo his belt and slacks, the metal clanking against the side of the table. He pushed his pants down to his knees and brought one hand to his cock, squeezing it and giving himself a few pumps. You pulled away from his mouth just enough to look down at it, and a shiver of anticipation ran through you. Reaching down, you pushed his hand away and wrapped your fingers around him. 

“Fuck, baby…” rattled out of his mouth. Spurred on, you started to pump him yourself, let your thumb catch the drop of precum resting at the tip, smearing it around the head. His hand shook as he closed it around yours, stopping your movements. “Keep doing that and this will be over embarrassingly fast.” You giggled and moved your arms to rest on his shoulders, giving him a minute to compose himself. 

Finally, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He took his cock in his hand once again, dragging it up and down through your slit. You were so fucking wet. He looked at you again, silently asking-

“Josh you don’t do something I’m going to be the one leaving this time and never forgiving you.” 

With that he surged forward, filling you in one fluid motion, causing the both of you to moan into each other's mouths. Your hearts hammering in your chests. He didn’t waste no time before he reared back and filled you again, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he bottomed out. As much as he wanted to, there wasn’t time to take this slow, and frankly after the last month there was too much tension built up between you to even fathom another pace. He leaned you back down onto his jacket, the satin lining felt cool and soft against your skin, and he hovered over you as best he could given the height of the table. 

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist, locking your ankles right above his ass. As you promised yourself earlier, your nails dug into the soft flesh of his shoulders, and he hissed in your ear in response. Slowly you dragged your fingertips down his back as he pumped into you, the angle making his pelvis grind against your clit exactly the way you needed it. 

It was becoming apparent that the table wasn’t built for strenuous activities, and it started to creek and shift underneath you. Josh didn’t pay it any mind, he was too focused on peppering kisses all along your face and neck, not wanting to leave your skin for a second. He couldn’t get enough of you, and the fact that he was finally having you, was sinking in. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that first time he saw you while you took your tour around the office while he was at the supply closet? It had to be as close as one could get. He nearly dropped an entire stack of printer paper when you walked by and your perfume invaded his senses, causing him to look up to see where it was coming from. The sheer luck that you got assigned to the cubicle next to his, and how he pretended to be busy while you started sorting your things. He observed you for several minutes before making his presence known, in the least creepy way possible. You were just…adorable…in how you were organizing your desk, and how you muttered to yourself as you picked things out of the box.

 The crush he developed that day was strong from the beginning, and now? Now he had you completely. His skin was slapping against yours. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging at the roots. Your thighs were squeezing his hips as he hiked one of them higher on his side, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect…god, Blue…fuck…,” he rambled against your mouth, unable to hold back his words. 

You whimpered up at him, “you feel so good.”

“Yeah? Who's making you feel this good?” He lifted his head just enough to look you in the eyes. 

“...you…”

Not satisfied with your answer, he reared back and slammed back into you, harder than before, “no, who is making you feel this good?”

Oh, you knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him this easily. Instead you just stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, smiling up at him. 

You wanted to be a brat, he thought, two could play at that game. He instantly pulled out of you, fighting every instinct in his body to stay inside. You whimpered at the sudden loss, your brows furrowing. 

“I’m going to ask you again…” 

For a split second you hated him. You had been so fucking close, and he literally ripped it away from you. Too desperate to keep playing you nearly shouted, “JOSH, you, Josh…you’re making me feel this good…” 

A smirk appeared on his face before he slammed back into you, “mmm…good girl.” 

This side of Josh was surprising you, but you loved it. You had never really taken him for a dominating type, but you couldn’t wait to see more of it in the future. But before you could think about that, your high came hurtling back to you. He reached between you, going straight for your clit and started swirling his fingers around it. You were so wet that his fingertips glided easily in figure-8 motions against the hard nub, causing you to writhe beneath him. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher. The combination of his fingers and the ridges of his cock dragging against your walls was too much, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a shout, you shook underneath him as you came. He continued to pump into you, chasing his own high and prolonging yours with his nimble fingers. You were squeezing him so hard as you rode out your high, and he only had about three thrusts left in him before he emptied himself inside you. His vision nearly went white as he came, and your actual first name shuddered from his mouth. 

Neither of you moved for several moments, but the feeling of his release slowly leaking out and around his cock was undeniable. You started to panic at how you were going to clean up, until Josh reached next to your shoulder where the inside pocket of his jacket was. Silently he fished out a white handkerchief. You caught a glimpse of the initials, JMK, stitched in gold thread in the corner before it disappeared between you two and he pulled out, making quick work to clean you up. When he was satisfied, he stood up fully to pull his slacks back up around his waist, and reached over for your bra, handing it back to you. You slowly sat up, your muscles still feeling like jelly. The two of you were quiet as you redressed yourselves, and you remembered he had your thong in his pocket. 

Holding your hand out, you asked, “can I have them back now?” 

Josh smirked again as he put his jacket back on, “no…I’m keeping those.” 

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, “Josh!” 

He took your hand and started to lead you to the door, “you can have them back when we get to my place…” 

Stopping dead in your tracks you say, “a little presumptuous don’t you think?” Josh’s eyes widened and he realized how that sounded, and he opened his mouth to apologize before you continued, “who said we were going to your place instead of mine?” You laughed at how his shoulders visibly relaxed at your words, and caught up with him at the door. 

“You really are a wicked little thing…,” he mumbled as you ventured back out into the cold. 

As you made it to Josh’s car, you thought you had done a good job at not being seen by anyone, but unbeknownst to the two of you, Stacy and Brad were standing on that same deck from earlier. They watched your very freshly-fucked selves climb into the Jeep before taking off.

A week or so later, on Christmas Eve-Eve, you were greeted to a present sitting on your desk. It was a decent sized box covered in blue wrapping paper, matching blue bow on top. 

“Merry Christmas, Blue,” your boyfriends voice sounded behind you. You looked over your shoulder at him, dropping your bag on your chair. “Go on…it’ll fit on your desk.” 

Skeptically you turned and ripped the wrapping paper off the box, the first thing you saw was the red LEGO square in the corner. Confused, you peeled off the rest of the paper to reveal your present. It was the greenhouse LEGO set. 

“You little shit.” 

FIN

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @stardustvanfleet ,

[romanoffsbish]

I Can’t Lose You

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Prompts

Warnings: Suspected/Mentions of Cheating

Smut: Daddy (N), Fingering/Oral (R), Thigh Riding (N)

A discontented groan fell from your lips as soon as you passed over the threshold of your house. Every muscle in your body currently ached after that lengthy plane ride home from your work trip to California. The golden state was beautiful, but you couldn't exactly enjoy the views while stuck in a temporary cubicle.

On the last day the company orchestrated a barbecue at the beach, but you couldn't find joy in the scenery without your girlfriend there. Instead you traipsed around in her hoodie, and sporadically picked fruit from the tables. The team played games, but you just mindlessly watched waves cascading against the shore.

——

While watching the sun set behind the horizon that night you saw a vision of Natasha laid out on a blanket in her cherry red bikini. She lazily smirked up at you when she caught you staring, and for the first time since you left her back in New York you genuinely smiled.

Your duffle naturally slipped from your body, you instinctively rolled your shoulders, and cringed at the crackling. When it finally hit the ground it was as if a metaphorical weight was lifted off your shoulders with the physical.

The only things on your mind currently were how you desperately needed a hot shower, and how being in your lovers strong arms could heal the rest of your jilted soul. Proof found as with every step you took you felt your mood lighten, catching whiffs of Natasha's cologne making you hopeful that she was home too.

Hope is often futile though, and that happiness you felt moments ago melded into despair as the closer you got to your room suggestive noises could be heard through the walls. You took a deep breath, heart hopeful that she was having some alone time, but as you pushed the door open you were met with a damning scene.

Natasha, the absolute love of your life, was straddling a mystery man, and her soft pants only gave way to her being guilty in your mind. Your entire world was crumbling fast, your labored breathing alerted your lover to your presence, and she turned to you in horror.

It was clear to her you couldn't see him, which was unfortunate because had you been able to you might've saved yourself a bit of heartbreak. Because just beyond Natasha's back that was turned to you laid an unconscious bearded man with a knife pressed against his jugular.

Natasha hadn't been the most forthcoming when the two of you'd started dating, and you were seemingly oblivious to her status as a former KGB assassin turned superhero. It's not that she never planned to tell you all about her sorted past, because of course she did, it was just for a short time she enjoyed being just Natasha Romanoff, cuddle extraordinaire, the big spoon to your little; your Tasha boo bear.

You completely melted her beyond recognition.

With you around it was as if the crippling weight on her shoulders merely vanished. Neither of you had found that in another before, so this cataclysmic moment would be ultra devastating if it was leading to ruin.

Everything with you was picture perfect, you were a kind, beautiful, down to earth young soul, and she loved the balance you brought to her otherwise chaotic life. Two years in and she'd still yet to tell you her public identity, and in this exact moment she was regretting that.

"Y/N! Wait!" Natasha was desperate, and quite frankly she hadn't the time for a fight right now, not with the Hydra man she's knocked unconscious still out cold in your shared bed. The same one that you unfortunately found her straddling. "It's not what it looks like detka."

"Yeah, I know," you scoffed bitterly while shoving whatever you could into your duffel bag, "It never fucking is with you cheaters."

"I'm not cheating," her tone was one of clear devastation, as if she had a right to that when you had just walked in on her in bed with another. "Please, just give me a chance to explain," she pleaded while following you around the room, she tried to grab you but you quickly shook her off with a violent body jerk.

Then you turned around with an accusing glare that terrified her, "This was never real, was it?" Natasha stumbled slightly at your words, you had every right in this moment to say such a thing but it hurt her nonetheless to see you believe that. "No! It was—it is real!"

You tried to maintain a steely composure, not wanting her to know just how hurt you were, but you could hardly keep it all in the longer you stood before her, you felt exposed, and her heart completely shattered when she heard your harsh, misconstrued conclusion come through a shaky voice. "I was just a warm body for those cold winter nights..."

"No, it wasn't like that, I would never do..." Natasha heard a grunt from your room, she looked back in annoyance before her gaze returned to you as the door abruptly opened, all of her windows were closing in on her here. "Just wait at Lena's, please detka, I'll explain."

You were about to negate her request as you turned to face her, but you could see a clear desperation in her eyes that didn't exactly fit the cheaters narrative. There was obvious guilt, but you could tell it somehow went deeper, so you offered her a nod before promptly leaving.

As soon as you disappeared the reformed assassins genuinely broken expression faded into one of purely terrifying stoicism, she warned her sister of your arrival, then she returned to your room with a devilish smirk. This man was going to wish he was never born for ever trying to come after you, she'd see to it.

—

Once you arrived to the blonde's it didn't shock you much to see her waiting on the stairs of her farmhouse with a bottle of vodka, and a smirk.

"I heard my sister is an idiot," Yelena took a massive swig just before tipping it in your direction. You threw it back and grimaced, body trembling slightly at the bitter taste, "Yeah, she's an even bigger one than you."

"Ha-ha, so funny Y/N Y/L/N," Yelena mocked, her finger joining her as she flipped you off.

"Point me to the guest room or I'll leave and you can face your sisters wrath instead."

Yelena rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but did exactly as you said as she escorted you there. Then as soon as the door shut your steeled façade crumbled and you fell asleep in tears.

—

Natasha raced to her sister's house within an hour of when you'd left in a rush. She handled the Hydra agent with ease, then ensured you'd never be on their roster again by putting a bullet straight through their leaders forehead.

Nothing had ever meant more to the redhead than you, so to think using you as a bartering chip would result in anything less than their blood shed left the redhead truly confused. They had to know she was just the perfect amount of unhinged to ensure your safety.

So once Natasha got to her sisters land she burst through her doors appearing frantic. "Sestra, chill down." Yelena gestured down the hall with her gun before putting it down. "She's beauty resting, trust me, she really needs it."

Natasha frowned as she realized just how tired you probably are, you'd only just returned from a week long business trip when you stumbled into your house to find her in that horribly compromising position. With a quiet step she made her way to you, stopping by the side of the bed so she could just admire you sleeping in case this would be her final time doing so.

"I love you Y/N," Natasha whispered the words that were tattooed on her fragile heart, and for a blissful moment she pretended like it was all alright as you remained motionless in the bed, but then you were glaring up at her, and she was reminded of the situation.

"Why do people only say that to me when they've wronged me?" You blinked away the grogginess as you moved to sit up and face the woman, putting a heartbreaking bit of distance neither of you were familiar with between your bodies as you shuffled into the headboard, and she remained on the edge.

"Am I not deserving of the guiltless love?" You smiled with a bitter sense of longing, hands flailing about as if that somehow strengthened your sentiments. "Like the ones I see in fairytales, where they get swept away smiling," you frowned now as a tear suddenly cascaded down your cheek, "and not where I curl up to weep in my bed for another damn night."

A beat of tense silence fell over you two as the redhead tried not to cry. Saying I love you (aloud) to you for the first time was meant to be a joyous thing, but she somehow mussed it all up and was left to say it in the hopes that it would be enough to stop you from leaving her. This whole situation was all her fault, so to make it all about her heartache now would only be selfish, and so with all her might she kept her composure as she candidly admitted her truth, "I'm not exactly who I said I was Y/N."

You scoffed humorlessly, "That's for sure."

"No, please, I know you're mad," she began to trip over her words, and for some reason this truly concerned you, because for as long as you'd known her Natasha had always been an eloquent speaker, even in the most stressful of times she got the job done. "Just please, let me explain, it'll make sense if you only listen."

"Okay," you breathed, "Make it make sense."

Natasha nodded and swallowed thickly, then she set her shaking hands under her thighs to lessen their distracting movements, normally you'd hold them, but she couldn't ask you to, not yet at least. With much struggle she lifted her gaze up from her lap to look into your eyes. It momentarily took her breath away, seeing that you were already trying to forgive her, she felt undeserving of your never ending love.

She decided to start slow. "I'm an Avenger."

You chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah, I know that."

Natasha looked to you rather dumbfounded, "You know?" You nodded, "How could I not?"

"Th-then you know about my past?" Your nod was more hesitant this time, telling her you didn't know much beyond her current title, so, in a moment of bravery she divulged to you what she fears would be enough to send you running, "I have many vindictive enemies..."

Your lips pursed, you thought her words over for the briefest of seconds before the lightbulb went off and you chuckled, "Thank God! That guy was so ugly I worried I might be as well."

"Detka what?" Natasha shook her head, she was experiencing emotional whiplash here.

"You're saying that guy in our bed was some sort of rogue agent right?" Natasha nodded frantically, then took the initiative to scoot closer to you when your defensive stance fell.

"I-I need to tell you about my past Y/N, it's unfair to have left you in the dark for this long. If you got home before me, I might've lost you, and I can't imagine who I'd become if I did."

Natasha's anxiety halved as soon as you intertwined your hand with hers, "You would have been the person to avenge my death, and then with the help of family you'd move on."

"No!" Natasha's teary eyes held a sternness that her saddened voice currently couldn't, "I'd never move on, you're my everything detka."

"Natty, death comes for us all, you have to promise me you'll at least try." She shook her head, and sighed, "I barely let you into my heart detka, you were a once in a lifetime find, and when that horrid day comes my heart will die with you—there's no after you my love."

You smiled sadly, tightening your hold on her hand, "I feel the same way Nat, when I thought you were cheating my whole heart shattered."

"I'd never cheat Y/N," she fiercely reassured, "It serves no purpose when all I want is you."

"I know that now Natty, I jumped the gun instead of remaining rational. I should've realized it was an enemy of sorts."

"No," she shook her head, "You were tired, and in the end I should've told you far sooner about who I was; I'm not exactly a picturesque hero."

"Hey, don't say that." You frowned as you saw the guilt swimming behind her eyes, you knew it ran far deeper than today's instance, but you didn't like her feeling forced to come forward with her darkest secrets. Everyone had a past, and you couldn't begin to imagine hers. "You're an inspiration to millions baby, me included."

"The people who came after you today..."

"Hey, you don't have to do that Nat, I already refused to read the articles when they released them." You softly kissed the skin of her palm, "I knew what I signed up for with you, I always did, and I understood you weren't ready to share back then, and I still understand now that your past is yours alone to hold onto."

"But what if?"

You shocked her into silence when you kissed her, "We can't live in what if's, only the now."

Natasha smiled insecurely. "For today, okay." She kissed your cheek, then her face softened. "I still need to keep you safe," she reaffirmed, "I want to move you closer to Yelena or Clint."

For a moment you froze as she spoke her thoughts aloud, you wanted to fight her on this, to tell her you'd been fine thus far, but you also knew this was likely the safest bet. "Okay."

"Really?"

You snorted, "I'd rather be your pretty princess in a castle than your ugly unwanted girlfriend."

"Don't ever think such things again detka," she cradled your face in her hands, eyes shining with unshed tears, "Your beauty's abundant, truly you're the most spectacular person I've ever had the fortune of knowing." Natasha genuinely smiled at you while marveling at your aforementioned beauty, "There's nobody else I'd ever love like this."

You moved to straddle her lap in an instant. "Kiss me, please," your words were beyond breathless, eyes growing darker by the second. Natasha slowly leaned forward, leading you to believe she'd give you what you wanted but she brushed passed your lips to rasp into your ear, "Is that all you want baby, is for me to kiss you?" You shook your head, "N-no, I also want you to fuck me senseless, but a kiss sounded far more romantic."

Natasha chuckled, "You're adorable detka, but more importantly, your wish is my command."

The redhead disposed of both of your clothing in record time, articles of all sorts were now strewn all over the room without much care. Her lips fleetingly pressed to yours before they traveled all over your body, leaving your nerves to almost overcompensate and for your skin to feel as if it was permanently set on fire.

"I need you daddy, please..."

"Shh, daddy's going to take care of you detka," Natasha's fingers slid through your sensitive folds, she pinched your clit and marveled in the way your body convulsed due to the sensation.

"So responsive," she mused as you gasped at the intrusion of her finger, your hips began to buck out of time with her lackadaisical thrusts. "Stay still, or I'll have you warming daddy's cock all night long." Your mind was decently fuzzy, but you still weren't dumb enough to fall for such scams so you stilled.

"That's a good girl." Natasha beamed, her lips kissed yours again as her pace picked up, it was a heady sort of make out as you were no sooner reduced to a panting mess the longer her fingers worked your dripping cunt over.

Normally she’d tease you, keep you teetering on the edge for hours until you just couldn’t handle it anymore, but you were clearly tired, and she was eager to see you come undone, and beyond grateful for your forgiveness so she didn’t tease. With every few thrusts she curled her fingers, dragging her calloused tips down your velvet walls as she slowly pulled out, to then have you cry out as she slammed back in.

“Daddy please,” your back arched and you clung to her biceps with a bruising grip. Natasha leaned down to peck your lips, “It’s gonna be okay detka, you’re being so good.”

Her teeth nibbled at your jaw and you mewled, your pornographic noises spurred her on and she began to kiss down your body in quick succession, a bite left here and there to make your throat sore as your moans kept going.

“Let go for me kotenok,” Natasha rasped against the sensitive skin over your pelvis, a shiver ran down your spine as anticipation seeped into your every bone. “Make a mess of my face,” she commanded, soft lips wrapping around your clit as she sucked rather harshly.

“Oh fuck!” Your body jerked off the bed as the coil in your abdomen suddenly unraveled. Natasha swirled her tongue around your bundle as she unlatched her lips, then she slid down your slit on a mission before replacing her nimble fingers with her hot tongue.

Natasha continued to fuck you into another mind numbing high, her slicked fingers slid into your mouth to soothe you with your essence as she greedily drank it from the source, you were pleasantly addicting.

When your quivering legs came to an abrupt stop, and your mewling died off she pulled away with a harsh inhale and drooping eyes. If you were awake you’d probably cum again just at the sight of her, with her reddened cheeks from the voluntary oxygen deprivation and with your slick dripping from her chin onto the swell of her breasts. Natasha did, she rutted into your thigh a few times desperately while staring at your peaceful face, and in less than a minute she relieved the last of her tension.

The redhead made her way back up your body once she came down, she kissed your lips tenderly, "Everything I do is for you—my beloved." She smiled in pure adoration at your fucked out state as she pulled away from you, your swollen lips prettily parted, with your spent body slumped into the firm mattress.

Your soft snores slowly filled the space, and Natasha relished hearing them, she never thought such a fear could exist, but it did. Your lover couldn't help but to finally let hot tears run down her cheeks as everything sunk in.

You just looked so beautiful, you always did, but this time you were somehow more so.

You were still hers, and her heart couldn’t be more fulfilled knowing that. That you weren’t afraid of her demons, no, you were only here to love her in spite of them, and with you by her side the future for once looked bright for her.

Natasha slid out of the room in a robe she found in the bathroom, she planned to collect snacks for when you inevitably awaken hungry, and as she entered the unfamiliar kitchen her eyes fell to the note on the fridge, and she finally remembered exactly where she was.

"I WENT TO KATE'S—Burn the entire room!"

——

3,296 Words

🩵 Kaitlyn 😏

[lunaandco]

the reporters series; part one, halloween devil

pairing: gavi x ofc

summary: blanca meets a masked boy, that might be someone she should know.

warnings: a little bit explicit, they fuck in the bathroom lol

series masterlist // masterlist

The first clue should have been the quality of his sweater.

Blanca hated partying with her uni friends. They always forgot she was a town person at heart and lost her in the crowd of the big city. That never happened back at home, with Martina, were everyone knew everyone and the streets were more familiar than her own house.

But she still went, and she still ended up alone, pulling down the hem of her short dress and wondering if she should take off the fake plastic devil wings she was wearing. Getting lost in the crowd of her town wasn't so bad. In Barcelona, it was terrifying.

Blanca found herself trying to leave the club, hand on her phone, ready to check for the nearest subway station, when she crashed against some boy. He was wearing a white knit sweater, white jeans and a creepy, nun-like mask, that did nothing to conceal how big and sweet his eyes were.

"Sorry," she said. She was just a few inches shorter, but his shoulders were broad enough to cover her.

"No worries," he winked. "I wasn't looking either."

His gaze slipped to her cleavage for an instant, the tight dress was meant to make her boobs pop up, the friend who leaned said, to get boys' attention, and it was clearly working.

"Hermano, we're going to–" a friend of the boy, with a similar mask and dark skin, stopped right on his tracks, when he saw Blanca. "Damn, bro. Don't let me interrupt you."

Both Blanca and the first boy stuttered, her cheeks turning as red as her hair. The second boy retreated, after mentioning something about a booth somewhere, she was too busy thinking about how her boy had not denied flirting with her.

"I'm sorry about Ale," the boy apologised. "I'm... Pablo."

Blanca wasn't stupid. She noticed the hesitancy at the introduction, and realised he must have given her a fake name.

"I'm Inés," she said, also giving a fake name. No girl should give her personal info to complete strangers. Specially if she didn't even know his face.

"Would you like to have a drink?"

The boy, Pablo, ended up being funny. From the South, but had spent enough time in the city to be almost fluent in Catalan, sports lover and really into football. Blanca perked up at that. She was studying sports journalism at uni and told him just that.

The way he tensed should have been the second clue.

When they found their way to the bathroom, and empty cubicle in the men's, she got to examine the fabric of his sweater up close. The knitting pattern was high quality, thick thread that screamed expensive. So were the jeans. Nothing about what the boy had said or done indicated her that he was a spoiled trust fund brat. He shared the same fondness for late afternoon football matches in the park with the neighborhood kids and remembered those discontinued, offbrand cereals all the middle to lower class kids of their generation missed. And they were in a cheap nightclub anyway.

But Blanca was too horny to join the dots. She lifted his sweater at the same time he reached below the skirt of her dress.

"I want to kiss you," she begged.

"I can't take off my mask," he replied, a regretful tone on his voice. She wanted to protest, but his fingers pulled down her black thong, and suddenly all she could think of was the pleasure he was drawing out of her, the softness of his tense muscles.

He had said he liked sports, but his body was more than built. It should have been another clue. Blanca dropped a kiss on the cheek of his mask as a revenge, leaving a black lipstick stain.

"Please, fuck me."

And he did. Jeans lowered to his mid-thigh, sweater up his armpits, hands on her ass as her back was glued to the wall, thighs around his waist. He fucked her hard until she could not speak and the condom filled.

After a good fuck, Blanca tended to crash out. She became clingy and sleepy, almost like a drugged kitten begging for cuddles.

She should have warned him.

Pablo took it well. He helped her put all her clothes back where they were, ran his fingers though her hair to try to comb it a little, as he accommodated his own clothes, all amidst her whining because he was too far away.

He must have had led her out of the club, because fresh air hit her face and she finally sobered up.

"Sorry," she muttered, but his hand squeezed her hip.

"It's okay," he said. "It's kind of a compliment." She giggled and then spotted more guys with similar masks to Pablo in the corner down the street. "Those are my friends. Do you want to come home with me?"

There was an unsure tone to his question, but she nodded, taking off the horns of her costume.

"I'd love to."

Fitting in the car was another struggle. Despite it being big and expensive —truly another clue on itself Blanca should be thankful he was not a serial killer, with how unaware she was of her surroundings —there were only five places to sit, and they were six. One of Pablo's friends drove, and she ended up sitting in Pablo's lap, at the passenger seat.

Before the car started, the friend driving took off his mask, and Blanca was left staring at his face.

"Why does your friend look like Ansu Fati?" She muttered. Pablo sighed, and took off his mask too. "Oh."

Ansu started driving, but Blanca could only look up at Pablo —no, Gavi.

"Surprise?"

"Should I call you Pablo or Gavi?" She asked calmly. The dopamine hit was still clouding her nerves.

"I actually prefer Gavi," he admitted.

"It's nicer," she smiled softly. "You should probably call me Blanca then. Inés isn't my name either."

"Ah."

Ansu dropped them at Gavi's apartment. He dropped the mask on his couch and turned to look at her.

"I'm the worst sports journalism student in the world," she joked. Gavi snorted.

"You won't rat us out, right?" He asked carefully. "We were so excited about going out without being recognised, the masks were so fun..."

Blanca understood. She wasn't sure she would have been so calm around him if she knew.

"What kind of career you think I want to build?" She replied, feigning offense. "I want to be a women's football journalist. You and your friends are a second thought."

Gavi beamed, his shoulders relaxing. Blanca sighed.

"I think I owe you a kiss," he said. Blanca grinned, rushing to his arms as he pressed his lips against hers.

[lululawrence]

Sus' 40 to 40 Countdown: 31 Days

It might be the 9th day of the countdown, but the theme for today is actually the first idea I actually wrote down, so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! Today's theme is:

The First Fics By Me @londonfoginacup Could Think Of On Demand:

Validation - Harry/Louis (based on a YouTube video, meet-cute, sad Louis, soft fic, fluff)

The one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda…did.

How Much My Heart Depends - Harry/Louis (omegaverse, office workers, cubical wall sharing, meet-cute, soft fic)

Louis is an alpha working as a fraud analyst who keeps having Bad Days. Harry is an omega working in Quality Support who shares a cubicle wall with Louis and only wants to help. Maybe this is the perfect chance for them to finally meet face to face.

(Won't You) Stay to the A.M. - Harry/Louis (homeless character, famous/non-famous, actors, NYC)

Harry didn’t like the term homeless, because he was making at least some money now and he was actively looking for a better gig so he could actually afford at least a bed in this massive city, but that’s basically what he was. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, he knew that, sometimes shit just happened and this was how it turned out, but he also didn’t want to broadcast his situation if he didn’t have to either. Especially if Louis Tomlinson, Britain's most talented young actor, was going to be frequenting Harry's place of employment on a regular basis.

Were You There On That Christmas Night? - Harry/Louis (teachers, co-workers, friends to lovers, pre-slash, humor)

The one where Harry has some fears regarding the animals present in the school's nativity play.

All 40 to 40 Countdown Posts

[restlessmaknae]

hotel shenanigans // choi yeonjun

best friends to lovers!yeonjun + "if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i’d say yes.“ “what about today?"

➳ Characters: best friend!Yeonjun x female reader/you

➳ Genre: slice of life, best friends to lovers, fluff, uni au

➳ Words: 1.4k

➳ Warning: one mention of alcohol

➳ A/N: This story was requested by the lovely @stories-inbetween-the-stars for my request event. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️ Also, this was partly inspired by real-life events haha @dat-town you know why

Happy Valentine's Day! ❤️

➳ Masterlist for the request event

➳ TXT taglist: @dat-town, @s00buwu, @soobin-chois, @laaylaazyy, @kuleo26, @hyu-won, @hyunjinswife, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @koishua, @squiishymeow, @forevrglow

It was the first time you and Yeonjun would share a hotel room together, but not the first time you would sleep in the same bed. You had been best friends since elementary school which meant multiple sleepovers when you had been younger and multiple "laying on the bed to stare at the ceiling while pondering over life" when you had grown older. He was as welcome in your house as you were in his since you were practically family to the other.

However, this time, you had to book a hotel room together because you went to a postgraduate open day that day, and there was no way you would spend 3 hours getting there via train and 3 hours back after the scheduled programmes were over by 8pm. Since it was on a Wednesday, your parents couldn't accompany you, but there was no need since you were a 1) responsible grown-up, so you could spend two days away from them 2) Yeonjun would be there and he was someone they trusted with all their heart.

Thankfully, everything went smoothly at the open day, so there was really no need to worry. On the other hand, when you got back to your budget hotel, and Yeonjun went in to take a shower inside your en-suite bathroom, you realised that the bathroom's wall was a bit transparent. It was made entirely of glass, and the pattern over it was similar to the blurred lines in your vision when you were just trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. Which meant that it wasn't entirely transparent, but when Yeonjun stepped into the shower cubicle, you could clearly see the outlines of his body which made you snap your head back so fast, it made a sound.

"Oh my god," you mumbled, awfully embarrassed, before you sat down on the only chair in the room, and positioned it, so you would sit with your back to the shower cubicle with Yeonjun inside it.

You wished you could say that by the time he made it out of the bathroom, you felt less flustered, but it would be a big fat lie. You were sure that your cheeks were still flushed, and not because he was wearing loose shorts and a sleeveless tee because you had seen him like that a million times before.

"Yeonjun..." You started tentatively, not knowing how to bring it up, and he could sense that you were uncomfortable, his eyebrows immediately furrowed at your tone of voice.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's not anything super... uhmm... bad, but..." You faltered, feeling your cheeks burn up even more.

Yeonjun was incredibly good at detecting people's moods, and he turned from sunshine to sunshine protector really quickly when it came to those close to him. No wonder he immediately reached out to squeeze your hands as if it was about something earth-shuttering.

"You know you can tell me anything," he reassured you gently before his lips curled upwards and he jokingly mentioned: "Even if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I would say yes."

Your shoulders dropped in ease, his joking side was always able to cheer you up. So you played along a bit.

"What about today?"

"Today, tomorrow, next month... anytime," he offered with wild hand gestures, and the lighter atmosphere helped you to pull yourself together. So you took in a deep breath before you brought it up.

"It is just that... the glass door of the shower cubicle is partly transparent. You can see the outlines of the one inside."

"Oh," Yeonjun hummed, and you saw the exact moment the indication dawned on him. His eyes lit up with a mischievous fire, his lips curling into a boyish smile. "Ooooh... so you saw me?"

"I didn't mean to!"

"I wouldn't have blamed you," he threw his hands in the air, shrugging casually. You shook your head, knowing fully well how confident he could be about his handsome face and fit body, so you didn't hold a grudge against him in the slightest. He didn't do so either. "I guess you want me to not look while you're inside, right?"

"Yes, please."

"Don't worry. I won't look," he promised with a big grin, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You faked semi-annoyance at this gesture, trying to bat his arm away as you took a step back. Which meant that you horribly miscalculated your steps, and managed to fall onto the bed. Yeonjun tried to catch your arms, but he wasn't fast enough, and fell right onto you.

It wasn't like in the movies, how the boy could react in time and put his hands on the two sides of the other's face, and then, they just kept staring at each other. No, it was proper falling onto each other, bodies squished together, heads knocking. You both let out a yelp of surprise when you collided, and both of you immediately tried to find a way out, so you rolled to your left while he rolled to his right.

Still laying in bed, still in shock over the incident, Yeonjun started laughing beside you. You rolled onto your side to look at him, and he did the same, his eyes laughing alongside his lips.

"This is so us," he pointed out, and you couldn't help but agree. You were both on the clumsier side, so something like this wasn't unheard of, even as you got older.

When you both laughed your heart out, the boy broke the momentary silence.

"Actually... I did have a dream once. It was on the night of your aunt’s wedding, and I dreamed that we also got married. Maybe it’s because of the booze that night or the fact that you were a bridesmaid, but I had it all pictured in my head,” he recounted with a nostalgic smile playing on his lips, one that made your heart race. He was so painfully beautiful and somewhat fragile in that moment, and you wished that you could freeze the time.

Your heart picked up its pace the more he talked, and you were sure that you were flushed like hell. You remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. You did so because the same thought had crossed your mind back then: you had wondered if there could be anyone you would love to tie your life to, and when you had realised it was and had always been Yeonjun, you had known that you had fallen for him for good.

However, it felt like a dangerous limbo with one foot on the side of friendship while the other was on the side of a romantic relationship, and you feared that if you crossed the line, you could easily lose him altogether. So you kept your feelings to yourself, and it was almost easy because Yeonjun was naturally flirty, his love language was physical affection, and sometimes you forgot that you were merely friends because of the way he acted. Yet, sometimes, it was painstakingly obvious that you were only friends.

“Yeah? And did you… did you like that dream?” You blurted out, your voice coming out raspy. Yeonjun didn’t appear struck by your question, instead, his lips bloomed into one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen on him.

“How could I not when I like you like crazy?” He semi-answered, semi-asked before he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You shivered under his touch, but it was only the good kind of shiver. “The question is, do you feel the same? Do you like me like that?”

When he emphasised the expression ‘like that’, you knew what he meant by it, you just didn’t quite want to believe it. Before his smile could freeze on his lips though, you answered with all your heart:

“I do.”

Maybe it was not quite your wedding vows, but you sure felt like it was something special with the way he reached out to embrace you, and being in his warm, safe arms while listening to the sound of his heartbeat, you knew that you were in the right place with the right person.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think.

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for TXT or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Smutty enemies to lovers jethro gibbs mini-series? Maybe the reader is a bit hot-headed herself? :)

Hi hello YES I love this! The fire in this man’s eyes when he gets pissed off gives me chills 🤤 I'm sorry this took me so long to respond to, but I hope you like it!!

I really like the idea of a mini-series, so please let me know what you want to see next 🤩

“We don’t need your interference- sorry, assistance on this case, Tobias.” Gibbs snaps the case file on the desk before him closed and tosses his reading glasses on top before fixing his friend with a sharp look.

“That’s quite the Freudian slip, Jethro,” Fornell grins, approaching Gibbs’ desk with a freshly brewed peace offering. “You know as well as I do that it’s not our decision. Agent Y/L/N will be joining you until this case is closed. Play nice.”

“Y/N? Hell, Tobias, marrying and then divorcing my ex-wife wasn’t cruel enough?”

“Hilarious,” the FBI agent deadpans. “Never gets old, truly.”

“We’ll take literally anyone else from your team.”

“What’s the matter, Gibbs?” Oh, that voice. “Scared you’ll fall head over heels for me? I know you have a thing for redheads.”

He notes your voice growing louder as you near his desk and buries his head back into the case file before retorting, “Weren’t you blonde last time?”

“It’s called hair dye,” you fire back. “Your observational skills are lacking. Getting old will do that to you, huh?”

“No, I just try to avoid looking at you. Can’t do my job if I turn to stone.”

Leaning close to him, you whisper, “So looking at me gets you-”

“Don’t you dare finish that thought,” he snaps, and you grin at having won this round. “Here.” Without looking up, he thrusts the case file into your waiting hands. “Get up to speed on the case and make yourself useful.”

“Like I said,” Fornell groans, “play nice. We don't need extra paperwork because you two can't share a sandbox.”

You dutifully mutter a, “Yes, Boss,” as Gibbs grumbles, “Get the hell outta my building, Tobias.”

“So, old man,” you start with a sigh, perching on the end of his desk. “Where can I sit?”

Gibbs looks up at you, incredulous, and snarks, “Not on my desk.” He nods his head over to the corner spot by McGee and returns to his case file, the conversation seemingly over. You make your way over to the bare bones work station and drop your bag on the seat. Standing on your tiptoes, you lean your chin against your crossed arms on top of the divider and smile at the brunette on the other side of the cubicle. “Hiya, Tim.”

“Hi, Y/N,” he answers as he looks up at you, the faintest hint of pink tinging his cheeks. “It’s nice to have you working a case with us again.”

“You guys just like that Gibbs focuses all of his anger on me, admit it.”

“No, no, we genuinely like- I mean, yes, it’s nice to-”

“Y/L/N!”

Turning your head, you replace your chin with your cheek against your arm and raise an eyebrow. “Gibbs?”

“Stop harassing my agents and do your damn job.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you respond coyly with a grin, moving your bag aside and dropping into the chair to get to work.

The morning passes in a blur, spent reading through the case file and analyzing the several boxes of itemized evidence from the victim’s apartment. After collecting your third cup of coffee in as many hours, you settle down with the dozens of crime scene photos spread out on the desk before you. “Something isn’t right here,” you mumble to yourself, shuffling through the lengthy report to find the sole witness’s statement. You reread the escort's recounting of events, then pick up the photograph mapping out the shooter’s position in relation to the victim. “Son of a bitch,” you breathe out, a smile spreading across your face.

You make your way over to Gibbs’ desk and triumphantly drop the report and picture in front of him. He looks up at you with one eyebrow raised in question, clearly unamused. Planting your hands on your hips, you demand, “How many people did your witness say were in the room?”

“Three. Herself, Lance Corporal Collins, and our perp.”

“And did she have blood on her?”

Gibbs sighs and steeples his fingers together. “What is this, Y/L/N, twenty questions? You read the report.”

“Humor me, old man.”

He glares at you for the moniker, then answers, “No, she didn’t. Claims she was in the bathroom when the shooting occurred, which you already know.”

“So,” you direct his attention to the photograph, tapping on the far wall speckled with blood spatter with one red nail, “who was standing here?”

“Son of a bitch,” Jethro echoes your previous excitement, standing to grab his badge and gun from the top drawer of his desk. Tossing a set of keys to DiNozzo, he calls, “Pull the car around.” The NCIS agent is halfway to the elevator before you catch on to his intentions, and you run after him, slipping your hand between the closing elevator doors at the last second. “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re going to question the witness again, right? Well, I made the connection,” you point out confidently, “so I’m going with you.”

“Let me explain something to you, Y/L/N,” he says softly, flipping the emergency stop switch to enter his personal conference room. He takes measured steps toward you in the eerie lighting, crowding into your space as he rests his hands on either side of the railing effectively caging you in. “When you set foot in this building, you’re in my house. You report to me. You follow my rules. You do what I say, when I say it. Am I making myself clear?”

Using the railing as leverage, you push yourself closer to reach his ear and murmur, “Crystal,” reveling in his sharp intake of breath. Raising your leg, you toe the switch back into operational mode before leaning back with a smirk. Fire crackles to life in his gorgeous icy blue eyes at your blatant show of defiance, and you meet his gaze with equal ferocity. “So what would you have me do, sir?”

The elevator reaches the ground floor, and the doors open and then close once more. Gibbs has yet to pull away from you, and his gaze keeps darting down to your crimson-stained lips. “Go back upstairs and help Ziva contact the Lance Corporal’s fellow servicemen on shore leave.”

You feel almost delirious from his sheer proximity, and the way he’s invading your space has your knees nearly buckling beneath you. Rather than admitting to the power he holds over you, you whisper, “What will you do if I don’t listen?”

One hand curls around the back of your neck, the callouses on the pads of his fingers gently pressing into your skin, and you gasp reflexively. “Why do you insist on defying me?”

“Because I like-”

The elevator dings and the two of you hurriedly jump apart, the trance effectively broken. Tony’s smiling face appears on the other side of the doors, car keys in hand. “Is Y/L/N going with us, Boss?”

“No,” Gibbs answers gruffly, jabbing the button for their floor before stepping out of the elevator. You make the journey back upstairs alone with more questions than answers, and more determined than ever to break the resolve of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

—————

Part II