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#and whatever i say will not involve any of these facts. but i sure have to go say it

awearywritersworld · 5 months

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i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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duchessonfire · 2 years

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I have been reading a bit on the OTW elections and the whole Tiffany G thing, but most of all, I've been reading comments from people supporting Tiffany saying that she just wants to clear AO3 from all the CSAM (child sexual abuse material) content and I don't know who needs to hear this but:

If someone comes to a predominantly QUEER space (like AO3) and tells you that censorship is necessary to eradicate CSAM... it's not actually CSAM they want to eradicate...

I've seen this type of discourse about Pride and about queer literature and queer movies and queer communities. It's a tried and true technique of the right and conservative movements.

First, they say there is a DANGER to the community through CSAM and they conflate the actual threat of CSAM in the community (we all know someone who thinks that writing a love story between two characters who are 16 is CSAM...), and make you believe that censorship is the only way to PROTECT THE CHILDREN. And since most people are (rightly) mind-bogled at having to explain that of course they don't support CSAM content, they bow down and accept the censorship for the greater good, without anyone actually trying to have a conversation about what qualifies as CSAM (which needs to, you know, actually involve real children and not fictional characters who are 17 and losing their virginity with their crush in a Mature-rated story about high school football and first love based on the author's own experience of losing their virginity at 17 to their crush in high school).

Then, they tell you that there are other forms of DISTURBING CONTENT, and what they really mean is porn that THEY find disturbing, for ex, (and I kid you not, I have seen comments like that) porn featuring disabled characters, which they consider to encourage the exploitation of vulnerable individuals, or BDSM porn (which supposedly encourages violence and lack of consent), or rough porn, or any kind of porn that isn't two (preferably white and skinny) able-bodied people doing it missionary style while lovingly gazing in each other's eyes. SO TO PROTECT VIEWERS, that needs to be banned as well.

And then, they tell you that even that sanitized version of porn is still porn and that people under 18 or under 21 or under whatever age they consider too young to view anything sexual regardless of the fact that not all countries have the same law about the age of maturity, should be free to surf the site without having to *gasp* filter out properly tagged works. So TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN, every explicit content is censored.

And then finally, when all that is left is a sanitized, white-washed, ableist, puritan type of content featuring General-Audience approved gay works of two nice men or two nice women holding hands and chastely kissing each other on the lips... Well guess what? :) CHILDREN SHOULD NOT BE EXPOSED TO QUEER CONTENT SO WE NEED TO BAN THAT AS WELL, and since we've basically done purge after purge before and there are still a handful of people on the website, well surely they won't mind/care anymore, will they?

It's not just a slippery slope, it's something that has been done time and again, and that is why censorship on AO3 will never, never have a positive outcome.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#otw elections #ao3 #sorry for the rant #but i'm tired of seeing the same BS again and again #tw cp mention #censorship

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bonesandchalamet · 10 months

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predictable - c.fisher

masterlist

requested: y- “Can you do a conrad fisher x reader where the readers family has a house next to theirs so they grew up going to cousins for the summers (cons age), and they are in love w each other but don’t want to admit it and everyone notices it around them/teases them. maybe a flash ward to their wedding in a couple of years and everyone’s speeches are like “yeah i won the bet they would be married by now” or smth like that?“

pairings: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + jokes

a/n: I hope I did this justice anon! xx there are NO spoilers of book 2 or season 2!

you can hear his voice. it’s muffled, he sounds like he’s in your kitchen, a blessing of having the bedroom right above it, but you can hear him talking to your mother.

you don’t have time to think, you just fling your legs over your mattress and rush down the stairs at an appropriate pace. you’d just woke up, maybe not your best state to be in, but you couldn’t wait to see conrad fisher. the boy next door.

he’d gone to Princeton, smart cookie if you say so yourself, and you hadn’t seen him since last summer. in fact, you only saw him maybe once or twice outside of the neighborhood and that was getting ice cream and groceries. other than that, you live by the fence that separates your yards waiting to hear the laughter and conversations from the Conklin and fisher kids.

“just tomatoes? are you sure? I can go pick out some basil—“

“no, no laurel will kill you if you do any more yard work! I can get it.” you hear conrad protest. the fisher family was used to your parents generosity, the beautiful vegetable garden grew right on the fisher/y/l/n house line, the family was more than welcome to eat and take whatever they wanted, but it didn’t stop them from being kind enough to ask. Susannah raised those boys right.

“are you sure?”

“what’s going on?” you ask, it’s like the words floated out of you when you saw him. his brown hair a little longer than normal, his t-shirt a bit smaller on him, and he’s wearing small navy blue swim trunks. a sight to make any girl swoon for a fisher.

“oh, y/n, do you think you can help conrad get some more tomatoes from the vines? it seems to be the fisher-Conklin clan has run out.” your mother hands you Susannah’s woven basket that conrad was once holding. your mother looks at you with pleading eyes but she knows you’ll do anything that has conrad fisher involved.

“happy to.” you take the basket in your hand and gesture for conrad to follow. he thanks your mother once again and follows along out the back door. you can hear not only just your heartbeat, but the blood rushing to your ears.

being alone with Conrad was sometimes awkward. at least to you it always felt that way, because you never knew how to be around him as yourself. you were so deeply in love with him that just being in his presence was enough to make you fumble over your words.

“here I can get the tomatoes.” conrad pushes past you, his shoulder brushing against your body, you could smell his cologne, the salty ocean in his hair, and the mixture of the laundry detergent Susannah uses. it was an intoxicating smell, one to make your world spin.

“you sure? they are kind of all over the place.” you chuckle setting the basket down into the grass. you start picking the beautiful blush red ones and gently place them in the basket along side the ones conrad was picking. every so often your hands would brush or you’d about pick the same tomato. you both would blush and apologize instantly for the connection.

“would you guys just kiss already! you’re making me nauseous.” Jeremiah calls over the fence line from the pool, he’s watched about every embarrassing second of you and his brothers interactions.

“come on, con!” Steven hollers, it’s loud enough for the neighbors on the other side of their house to snicker at the boys energy for far too early in the morning.

“I don’t know what their problem is.” Conrad says and it’s only for you two to hear. he’s picked up the basket from the grass now, you’re stuck with holding a few more tomatoes that he claims would be more than enough for everyone.

“no seriously, just keep those ones.”

“we have enough inside, just take them—“

“fine,” he huffs out an annoyed sigh and watches you dump them into the basket, “can I at least make you breakfast with them?”

“sounds like a plan to me.”

that day, he made you more than breakfast. he made you feel the most indescribable feeling of love and excitement. he left you walking home as beat red as those tomatoes you picked. you could thank Steven and Jeremiah for their pressure and tease, because conrad fisher did in fact kiss you that morning.

—

FUTURE

“I’m so happy for these guys because today I became twenty dollars richer,” Jeremiah pauses, the laughter of friends and family make you both blush, “so thank you Steven for believing they would never get married. here’s to the bride and the groom!” Jeremiah holds his champagne glass up, others in the room follow.

“you really bet we would get married?” Conrad turns to his brother who passes the microphone to belly before sitting down beside him.

Jeremiah’s hands clap his brothers shoulder, “we also made a bet that you’d kiss her that summer. belly also made a bet that you’d have tomatoes on the menu, looks like you guys are the most predictable couple ever.”

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gureumz · 8 months

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stained glass windows

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

notes: fem!reader, stepcest, dubcon, religious corruption, baby trapping (?), unholy use of scripture (sorry god), dom!jungwon, slight angst, mentions of death, step brother!jungwon, breeding, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jay has a cameo appearance lol

a/n: so this is an amalgamation of everything everyone requested for jungwon,,,reciting bible verses during sex? i got you. stepcest? no problem. baby trapping (this is 100% what i want and yes my wish is my command)? you bet. religious corruption? hell yeah. something super filthy and kinky? say no more. enjoy, hoes! love ya mwa (the bible verse here is 1 Corinthians 10:13 if you were curious)

sundays are your happy days.

a pretty dress, the stained glass windows, hushed chatter among the churchgoers—these were all the things you waited for at the end of the week.

your mother had always been proud of how involved you are in your faith, showering you with loving words before going to bed when you were little, calling you 'hers and God's favorite angel'. you'd smile and feel a sense of giddiness. God's favorite angel. can you believe it? you made sure to wear that as a badge of honor.

and then you grew up, went to a bigger school, met people who are different from you. even those who you knew were like you, devoted and obedient to their parents and God, seemed to have strayed down the path of parties, drinks, and the unthinkable. that is to say, premarital sex.

you never understood the appeal of it all. your faith and God were enough. you didn't need to participate in such acts to feel anything. you felt Him in every waking moment.

until there came a time when you were convinced He was gone altogether.

until sundays stopped becoming your happy days. every single day was void of any happiness.

your father passed suddenly, leaving you and your mother to fend for yourselves. you watched your mother grieve, grieved on your own, alone in your room. you went to school and saw the excitement in your peers' eyes, talking about a party here and buying drinks there.

you nearly caved. anything to take your mind off your dad.

but this was when your mother spent nearly every day at the church, despite it being mostly empty every day other than sundays. without anything better to do, you tagged along. and you started to feel Him again.

you knew God returned for real when your mother became friendly with a newcomer at church. a businessman who recently moved to your town, towing his son along.

mr. yang, as you later learned. he had a son.

jungwon.

jungwon wore an easy smile, deep dimples appearing every time he did. he shook your hand with a hesitant grip, palms smooth and soft. he had eyes that seemed to sparkle.

seasons changed, months grew into years, and your mother and mr. yang got married.

you saw the life return to your mother's face, easing her shoulders back, smoothing out the creases in her weathered face.

sundays became your happy days again, now that mr. yang and jungwon were in your lives.

---

jungwon is the poster child for the perfect sibling. or, at least that's what you think.

it's been a couple of years since your parents' wedding, and jungwon was nothing short of accommodating. he was kind, always letting you have first picks at whatever food your parents prepared, and offered to do things for you.

granted, it wasn't always like this. the two of you skirted around each other the first few weeks, both former only children, suddenly dealt with the fact that they had a sibling exactly their age. there was even a period of time when jungwon would bolt at the sight of you. though, you tried to not take this to heart.

but after all has been said and done, the two of you fell into a routine, becoming friends of some sort. eternal housemates.

"hurry up. this will be the second week we're late because you couldn't decide what dress to wear."

you turn, spotting jungwon poking his head through the door.

"sorry," you reply bashfully. "these people don't see me on weekdays anymore since i'm off at campus, so you can't really blame me for wanting to make an entrance on the one day they do see me."

jungwon quirks an eyebrow.

"since when did you care what they think?" jungwon questions, stepping fully into your room. he's wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and crisp black pants.

you note that the watch he has on today makes him look particularly handsome.

you merely shrug. "i don't know. everyone at college dresses so nice and i thought i'd make an effort, too."

jungwon snorts. "everyone at college is a try-hard. it's a small-town liberal arts institution."

"hey, you're a student there, too," you point out, crossing your arms at jungwon.

you watch as he surveys your outfit, eyes slowly making your way down your body. you swallow, suddenly aware of how tight the yellow sundress feels. the fabric seems to dig at your armpits uncomfortably, and the hem is too short and—

"you look good," jungwon says, eyes meeting yours.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

"well, if you say so. i trust your word," you say, smoothing down your skirt.

you feel jungwon approach, circling an arm around your waist, ushering you towards the door.

"i am your brother. i think i'd know what would look good on you," jungwon points out with a wink.

---

the service goes by without a hitch. you participated as you always did, offered your prayers as you usually do. you thanked Him for another successful week of classes but also asking for you to ace your upcoming exams. it was all routine.

until your mother pulled you along, chirping excitedly about a new family that had moved to town and joined the church.

the parks.

a father, a mother, and their son who's a business major at some big-shot university a few towns over.

"i'm jay," the son said to you, reaching his hand towards you as his family introduced themselves to yours. you shook hands and you couldn't help the sudden heat that flooded your face and chest.

your hand still tingles with where he held on, even now on the car ride home

"that jay boy sure is cute," your mother says from the passenger seat. you turn to her, eyebrows raised.

"seems like he has a good head on his shoulders," your stepfather agrees. he looks at you through the rearview mirror.

"the kind of guy girls wanna marry."

you see your mother twist in her seat to give you a knowing look. you roll your eyes but the familiar warmth takes over your entire body again.

"i mean, i don't know. we just met him and his family," you point out, trying not to stutter. you turn to jungwon for backup but your brother has his back turned to you, his face angled toward the window.

"right, jungwon?" you try nonetheless.

"huh?" comes his clueless response. he looks at you and his face is crumpled in a frown. you're taken slightly aback.

before you can say anything, your mother speaks up.

"why don't you try and befriend him, jungwon? they said they only live on the next street over," your mother offers, unaware at how deep jungwon's frown has gotten in the seconds she said that sentence.

"i don't know," jungwon mumbles. "i can try, i guess."

you watch as jungwon turns back to the window, his hand balling into a fist on his lap. you decide not to pry, leaning your own head against the window beside you, watching the little houses in your neighborhood speed by.

---

you urge yourself to stop picking at your fingernails. but you can't help it, either. standing outside your brother's door, you're not sure what awaits you on the other side.

taking a deep breath, you decide to just get it over with. you're certain it's nothing. you're just concerned and you want to see how jungwon's doing.

you knock softly three times, waiting to hear jungwon's voice. after a few seconds, you hear a muffled, 'come in!'.

you push the door open a bit, taking a peek inside jungwon's room. he's sprawled on his bed, his phone in his hands as he scrolls through his screen. his eyes shift to you and he sits up.

"what's up?" jungwon asks as you let yourself in. you don't say anything until you're seated beside him on his bed.

"i didn't want to risk your wrath, so i wasn't sure if i should bring this up with you...," you begin, teeth worrying your lower lip.

jungwon raises a brow. "i don't know what you're talking about. but other than that, you know i can never get upset with you, right?"

you continue to bite down on your lip, unsure of what to say next.

"but you were upset today," you say after a few seconds. "in the car?"

jungwon's face morphs into mild recognition. he nods, finally understanding what you mean.

"oh, that," jungwon deadpans. "it's nothing."

"come on, you can tell me anything, remember?" you urge, pulling your legs up on jungwon's bed before crossing them. jungwon glances down as you do so but quickly averts his eyes back to your face.

"it's nothing, i swear. it's stupid and thinking back on it, it just seems like such a dumb thing to be mad about," jungwon explains, shifting closer to you.

you take his hand and you squeeze as jungwon threads his fingers through the gaps between yours.

your mother often remarked how the two of you seemed more like twins than regular siblings. mirror images of each other. the perfect balance. looking at jungwon now, you see what she meant.

"nothing you say would be stupid to me," you reply, voice soft as your thumb runs over the skin of jungwon's hand.

something flashes across jungwon's face and his eyes seem to trail over every part of you. your skin prickles as he stops right at your chest, pajama top showing the very tops of your breasts.

"i didn't like the way that jay guy was looking at you," jungwon finally admits, gaze returning to your face.

you look at jungwon quizzically. "what? how was he looking at me?"

"like he was undressing you with his eyes," jungwon complains. "he was practically flirting with you."

you laugh incredulously. "no, he wasn't. he said two words to me, wonie."

jungwon shakes his head. "i'm a man, too. i know how our brains and eyes work."

you stop for a second to ponder on jungwon's words. you can't deny the intensity of how jay seemed to be looking at you earlier and the way he held your hand so tight.

"so?" you retaliate. "he's cute. i don't mind."

you see jungwon's jaw clench, the muscles spasming under his skin. his lips press into a thin line and he pulls his hand back from your grasp.

"guys like that will only take advantage of you, _______," jungwon says, voice slow and deliberate.

your forehead creases. "how are you so sure?"

jungwon stares at you for a few moments. he reaches his hand out, cupping one side of your face in his palm. you gulp, your heart jumping at the contact.

"i just know. you trust me, right? i'm your brother, after all."

you nod.

your hand comes up to cover his that's on your face and the room seems to still. the steady hum of the ac fades away, the cicadas outside vanish, and the thumping of your own heart amplifies. jungwon is looking you square in the eye and you can't help but cower under his gaze.

just as jungwon makes a move to lean closer, a loud knock and your mother's voice rips the moment away.

"dinner's ready! come eat!"

jungwon pulls his hand back and you scramble off his bed. you hurriedly cross the room, flinging jungwon's bedroom door open and stepping out, not sparing another glance behind you.

---

you toss and turn that night.

your face still tingles from where jungwon touched you. your mind is reeling with so many thoughts, your imagination seemingly going into each and every unexplored direction.

you and jungwon grew close during the years you spent together since your parents got married. it was like becoming friends. you had to learn things about each other, know what makes the other tick. the two of you never shied away from showing who you truly are. you'd be living under the same roof for the most part, so what's the point in hiding, right?

and jungwon never hid his affection for you. brotherly hugs, encouraging pats on the back, kisses on your forehead. he told yu over and over again how happy he was that you were his sister. that you were the best sister.

and you never hid how much you needed jungwon, either. he taught you how to get home on the bus from college on the weekends. he helped you with any handiwork you required in your room. he gave you the ins and outs of the college cliques and clubs.

jungwon always told you he loves you. you always reached out to jungwon. neither was a secret.

so, what's making you so nervous?

before you can answer yourself, you hear the hinges of your door squeak as it opens. in the dim light of your room, you see a figure step through the doorway, startling you slightly.

"sorry, it's me," jungwon whispers. "i couldn't sleep."

you feel your heart quicken once more as you sit up, watching jungwon make his way to your bed. he plops down on the mattress and looks at you.

"mind if i crash here for a while?" jungwon asks quietly.

jungwon does this on some nights, reasoning the bouts of insomnia as he snuggles up to your side. half of the time he talks, telling you stories of what he did during the day, and the other half he spends holding you to his chest, fingers drawing patterns on your back.

on rare occasions, he asks you to turn away, pressing your back to his front. he sometimes rocks against you gently and whispers how much he loves you in your ear. you feel strange when he does this. but you never complain.

"sure," you reply, scooting to one side of the bed. jungwon moves to lay beside you, pulling the covers over him.

wordlessly, his hands find your hips, tugging you close. you let him, your own arms circling around jungwon's torso. he's warm and smells like fresh laundry. you don't hide the way you inhale his scent.

you stay like that for a few minutes and you almost think that jungwon has fallen asleep. but after a while, he pulls back slightly to look at you.

you meet his eyes, sharp shadows cast across jungwon's face from your night lamp situated on the other side of your room.

"stay away from jay," jungwon says. your mouth falls open in mild surprise.

"why?" you ask. jungwon sighs, cradling your face once more in his hand.

"he doesn't deserve you," jungwon responds, voice hardened with something you can't quite put your finger on.

jungwon's looking down at you and even in the darkened state of your room, you can see the seriousness in his expression. he's clearly still upset from earlier.

"but mom and dad seem to like him," you reason with a pout. jungwon lets out a 'tsk' grasping your face tighter.

you let out a whimper. jungwon was never this heavy-handed with you.

"but i don't like him," jungwon insists. "you need someone who knows you, who can do things for you, who loves you more than anything."

jungwon pushes you onto your back, his leg swinging over to plant his knee on your other side. he grabs at your wrists and presses them down, trapping you as he hovers over you, his face inches away from yours.

"you need me."

you gasp, unable to comprehend the words that had just left jungwon's mouth. you're given no time to work it out in your head because jungwon is kissing you, pressing his lips to yours. you protest, pushing against jungwon but he's too strong for you to fight back properly. he has you pinned down and there's nothing you can do.

"w-what are you doing?" you say as jungwon pulls away for a second. instead of answering, jungwon busies himself with your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin. you squirm and whine but jungwon doesn't let up.

"i love you," jungwon whispers in your ear.

you shiver.

"you love me, too, right?" jungwon questions as he looks at you. you blink away tears that have gathered in your eyes.

you're just so confused. what is he doing? what is happening?

"answer me, angel," jungwon urges gently. he leans down to kiss away at the tears streaming down the side of your face.

"i do," you return weakly.

"no no," jungwon tuts. "say it properly."

you sniffle as you feel more tears fill your eyes.

"i love you."

jungwon seems satisfied because he kisses you again, tongue running over the seam of your lips. you've never kissed anyone before and it feels so foreign, having jungwon's tongue licking into your mouth. but you follow what he does, parting your lips and moving your tongue with his.

jungwon groans, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to grab at your waist instead. he presses you to him and you feel something stiff against your thigh.

"you make me so hard, angel," jungwon groans. he grinds against your leg and you watch as his expression crumples into pleasure.

"t-this is wrong," you sob. "we're not supposed to do this."

and you do feel conflicted with it all. everything you've learned in church, everything you've read through His word, it all says that this is bad. that you should only lay with the man you love, the man you married.

oh, but you do love jungwon. you've loved him since the day you met him.

"do you want to stop?" jungwon asks, stilling above you. you continue to cry, your legs squeezing together as you feel wet heat pool in your underwear.

"God will forgive us, angel girl," jungwon coos, a hand dipping beneath your pajama top.

you mewl as you feel jungwon squeeze at one of your boobs.

"He knows how much we love each other, so he'll forgive us, don't you worry," jungwon reassures as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"then we'll make it up to Him with a cute little wedding at a faraway chapel," jungwon continues, his other hand tugging down your shorts and underwear.

you're breathing heavily now, head spinning as your whole body heats up. the ache between your legs grows stronger.

"then we'll have babies," jungwon says. "so many babies we'll be filling up our own pew at church."

you gasp as you feel jungwon's fingers press against your core, working on the nub that you've ever really encountered twice or thrice before, too scared to be condemned to hell if you continued to touch yourself.

"what if we have a baby now, huh?" jungwon asks, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. "make you a mommy so no one can take you from me."

you shake your head, initially appalled at his words, but the thought of carrying jungwon's child, it stirs something in you.

"no?" jungwon asks, voice hinting with playfulness. "you don't want it?"

you look up at jungwon, struggling to find the words to say. you want it but your conscience screams at you to refuse.

"i want it," you finally answer. "want to give you a baby."

"fuck," jungwon curses as the words leave your mouth. he hurriedly discards his shorts, eyes seemingly ablaze.

"yeah? gonna give your brother a baby?" jungwon taunts, fingers circling at your core again. you moan wantonly, a million different feelings coursing through your body.

jungwon pokes in one finger through your entrance and you nearly scream, unprepared for the strange sensation.

"sshhh," jungwon says, pressing down on your mouth with one hand. he adds a second finger in slowly and your back arches off the bed.

"look at you," jungwon says with a grin. "your body responds so well to me, huh, angel?"

you cry into jungwon's palm as you feel him pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside every time he pushes in. you feel a tightness in your belly and more wetness pooling out of you. your body jolts with every movement of jungwon's fingers.

"shit, i can't take this anymore," jungwon mutters, pulling his fingers out. you whine, hips involuntarily pushing up as they search for friction.

"i got you," jungwon says, taking his hand off your face. the room is filled with your soft sobs, a mix of the lingering guilt and the newfound pleasure.

jungwon strokes his shaft a few times and you watch with bated breath as he aligns himself between your legs. you feel him push against you and you start to cry even harder, fear of what's to come gripping you like no other.

jungwon pushes halfway in and any scream threatening to break free from your lips is muted by jungwon pressing his mouth to yours. you cry and cry and cry as jungwon keeps pushing in, burying himself to the hilt seconds later.

he stills, pulling away to let you breathe. you hiccup, the stretch between your legs equal parts painful and filling in the best way possible.

"s-so big," you sob. "c-can feel you in my belly."

jungwon groans, his hip snapping up involuntarily. you whine, biting down hard on your lip.

"yeah? can you feel me here?" jungwon asks, a large hand pressing down on your lower abdomen. he starts to move then, slowly pulling out then thrusting back in.

"yes!" you gasp. "yes, yes, it's so deep."

"God, angel, you sound so beautiful when you're being fucked," jungwon says, speeding up.

"recite to me your favorite bible verse," jungwon commands. you barely hear him with the way he's moving his hips against yours.

"w-what?" you mumble in a daze.

jungwon takes hold of your face, forcing you to look directly at him.

"your favorite bible verse, angel girl. let me hear your pretty voice."

you rack your brain for it. you should know it by heart, have it seared into your consciousness. but the way jungwon is taking you right at this moment wipes away nearly all thoughts of scripture.

"no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man," you begin, trying to keep your voice steady as jungwon scrutinizes you, fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability," you continue. jungwon smirks, nodding, urging you to go on.

you're about to speak when you feel jungwon's thumb press down on your sensitive nub. you cry out, the added sensation muddling your brain even further.

"go on," jungwon orders.

"b-but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to e-ndure it," you finish with a shaky breath.

"good job, angel," jungwon says, letting go of your face and leaning in to kiss you briefly on your forehead.

your head falls back against your pillow, your vision blurring as all you can feel is jungwon moving in and out of you. all you can think of is jungwon. all you ever need, right at this moment, is jungwon.

your brother. the man you love. the man you want to have all your babies with.

"so tight, so fucking tight," jungwon babbles, pushing your legs up so he can get a better angle. your lower half rises off the bed and jungwon fucks into you even harder, snapping his hips against your insides with a force that has you gripping onto your sheets for dear life.

jungwon continues on like this, sweat dripping down his forehead. any pain is gone now, replaced with a want, a need for some sort of release.

you don't know what compels you to talk, but you can't help the next words that come out of your mouth.

"p-please, jungwon. feels so good. w-wanna be a mommy, want it so bad. n-need it!"

jungwon seems to let himself go then, hips moving erratically, not caring if you're bent nearly in half, his grip on your thighs painful as his fingernails poke at your skin. it feels good, you think, your insides clenching and tingling at the sight of jungwon getting nearly animalistic with you.

it almost fills you with joy. knowing that he's only ever like this with you.

a few moments later, jungwon's hips start to stutter.

"gonna give you my babies, angel girl. i'm so close, so close to making you a mommy—fuck!"

the words from jungwon stop any coherent thought in your brain as a sort of euphoria takes over you, your whole body tightening up. jungwon completely stills, pressing himself in deeper. a warm feeling spreads from where he's sheathed inside you.

the two of you remain unmoving, panting as your minds catch up with your bodies. jungwon pulls out moments later, replacing his cock with his fingers. you protest weakly as jungwon moves his fingers shallowly in and out of you.

"i came so much, angel," jungwon says with a chuckle. he pulls his fingers out and shows you his fingers, coated with his milky white release.

"your belly's gonna be all swollen up in nine months, for sure," jungwon muses, pushing his fingers against your mouth. you part your lips hesitantly, licking at the saltiness.

"good girl," jungwon praises, pulling his hand away before kissing you sweetly.

"i love you," jungwon mumbles against your lips.

you hold his face steady, thumbs rubbing at his cheeks. you meld your lips together, the elation finally catching up to you.

there are no stained glass windows in your room, your body bare and void of pretty dresses, and the night is still and quiet.

it's still sunday. it's still your happy day.

"i love you, too," you say as you and jungwon share a smile.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

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heavenlyhischier · 2 months

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𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨

word count: 4k

summary: Friends with benefits never works out. Someone always falls, but will they fall, too?

warnings: mild angst, drinking is mentioned, MINORS DNI 18+ content under the cut -> unprotected sex, slight hair pulling from reader to john, that’s it i think?

note: first johnny baby fic. hope you guys like it<3

The first time you met John Marino was in some dingy bar when your friend invited you out after a particularly long and strenuous day at work. Her boyfriend and a few of his friends were going to be there, and she thought it would help ease some of the stress that had accumulated over the last few days. You were initially hesitant to go, knowing that Jack’s friends were likely going to be his hockey teammates, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be around that specific group of people, but you went anyway.

You ended up having a great time, mingling with some of the other girls and guys who were there, and you also met John. He introduced himself to you, casting you a bright smile as his brown eyes bore into your own. He didn’t bother to be subtle in his advances with lingering touches and brief glances to your lips, but you didn’t mind it all that much. After all, he was easily one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen.

You end going home with him that night, spending the rest of your time out tangled in his sheets with his sweaty body pressed against your own. When you slip out of his apartment the next morning, you tell yourself that it was just a one time thing, that it was never going to happen again, but then it did. And again. And again. It happened so many times that the two of you had to have The Talk about what you were, ultimately agreeing on the notorious “friends who just hook up sometimes”.

It was a bad idea, and you knew that. You know that no matter how many times one says that there are to be no feelings involved, someone always falls. Someone always breaks the one rule that shouldn't be broken, and of course it was you who did. You had fallen for John Marino, and you didn’t know what you were supposed to do.

Going out wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. In fact, you would have much rather stayed home in the comfort of your own bed and slept through the weekend. You’d had yet another shit week at work, and nothing seemed to go in your favor from the moment you woke up Monday. All you wanted to do was relax, but, in true Macy fashion, she convinced you to come out with her and the guys to celebrate whatever win they had secured.

At first, you were having a decent time surrounded by a slew of hockey players and their friends as they drank and had fun. You did your best to avoid John like you had done for the last few days, not wanting to think about the way he made you feel. You wanted to temporarily forget about all of your stress for the night, and that was arguably the most stressful of them all.

You were pressed against the bar, sweaty and sticky bodies bumping into you as they passed behind you. It was taking all of your willpower to not turn around each time someone would push into you a little too hard, but you kept your composure to preserve your decent attitude. You thanked the bartender and told him to put it under Jack’s tab before turning around to rejoin your friend, but you froze when you saw him.

John was sitting on one of the stools, a beautiful girl leaning on the table as she talked to him. She was slightly leaning forward, her chest on full display before him as he smiled at her, and even from there you could see his eyes dart down below her face. From where you stood, it looked like he brushed the skin of her arm with his hand when he brought it up to adjust the hat on his head, but if you were closer you would be able to see how uninterested he was. Yet the thought alone was all it took to ruin your mood.

The sight in front of you suddenly made the urge to go back home trump any desire you’d previously had to stay at the bar. Initially, you came to appease your friend because you knew she’d tease you all weekend, but now your obligation was out of the window. There was no coming back from the sour mood you were in, and you didn’t want to ruin her own, so you chose to place your still full drink on the bar and beeline to the exit.

You ordered an uber the moment you stepped outside, leaning against the brick wall as you hugged your arms against your body. Of course you knew you had no reason to be upset. It was you who made the suggestion that you could still see other people because you weren’t dating. It was you who made a point to stress that there were to be no feelings from either of you, but you’d always been bad at listening to your own advice. After all, it was you who fell for him.

When your ride pulled up to the curb, you finally sent Macy a text telling her that you were going home and that you would see her later. You knew she’d come outside had she known you were out there waiting, and you were too frustrated to deal with what would’ve been her pleas to go back inside. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to go wrap yourself in your blankets and forget about everything before you had to do the same routine next week.

Pulling up to your apartment complex, you thanked your driver and slipped out of the car. The air was cool against your skin as you walked into the building, greeting the overnight doorman who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than there. The elevator ride to your apartment felt like it lasted a lot longer than usual, and you’d never felt more relieved about anything than when you had finally stepped foot in the comfort of your own home.

“Finally,” You muttered to yourself as you stepped out of your shoes.

Your clothes felt too tight and your skin felt sticky and disgusting. Your hair felt like it was a knotted mess and you know your makeup had ran a bit while you were in the bar. On top of that, you felt like you wanted to cry out of sheer frustration. All you wanted to do was shower, crawl into bed and put on some shitty tv show until sleep graced your exhausted body.

You had just slipped on fresh clothes after your shower when you heard the sound of someone rapidly knocking on your door. Initially you ignored it, but it happened again a few minutes later, so you begrudgingly went to see who was bothering you so late at night. When you looked through the hole in your door, you saw the last person you wanted to see.

“What do you want,” You snapped as you flung the door open, glaring at John as he stood there with his hands in his pockets.

John looked slightly startled at your harsh tone, but he quickly recovered before speaking, “Macy said you left because you weren’t feeling well, so I came to make sure you were okay.”

It was your turn to be taken aback as he looked down at you, the nerves radiating off his body meshing with your own. Every feeling you had been trying to suppress came flooding to the surface the second you looked at him, and him standing outside your door with his soft brown eyes was doing nothing but making that worse. You needed him to leave so you could force yourself to swallow your feelings and move on.

“I’m fine. You can go,” You grumbled, attempting to shut the door, but his hand slapped the wood, keeping the door open just enough that he could see through it.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring me,” He rushed out, voice hesitant as his eyes stayed focused on your own.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, slightly caught off guard at the directness of his question. When you didn’t answer for a few moments, John caught you off guard and shoved your door open enough for him to slip inside your apartment. He ignores your quiet protests as he shuts the door, his body so close to your own that you can clearly make out the scar on his cheek.

Blood was pounding in your ears, your heart thudding so loudly in your chest that you’re certain he was able to hear it. He was peering down at you, a multitude of emotion swirling within the depths of his dark irises. Your fingers twitched towards him, aching to pull him close, but you forced them at your side as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What did I do,” He asks, his voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

You let out a sigh, running your hand through your hair as you look at the ground, “Nothing, John. You did nothing, but you need to go. I’m sure you have some girl down there waiting for you.”

“The only girl I want is standing right in front of me and she won’t tell me what’s bothering her,” John admits, his gaze on you unrelenting and unwavering.

Your body stills as you let his words ring in your ears, coherent and well-strung thoughts fleeing your mind as you try to wrap your head around what he had said. Surely he hadn’t meant it in the way you wanted him to. Surely he was just saying that because his bar girl fell through and he knew all he had to do was mumble a few words and you were putty in his hands.

John whispers your name like it was delicate, like it was going to shatter if he uttered it with too much force. Your eyes snapped to meet his own, both of you staring at each other like you were afraid of what could happen next. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence envelope you in the most uncomfortable and nerve wracking hug as John’s words echo around you.

“Nothing is bothering me,” You whisper, tears threatening to prick the corners of your eyes.

“Then why haven’t you been talking to me? You didn’t even look at me in the bar,” He forces out, voice laced with sadness and uncertainty, “Talk to me, please. I want to know what I did.”

He had stepped closer to you now, your back pressed against your door as you looked up at him through glassy eyes. When John notices the uncried tears brewing in your eyes, his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumbs rubbing against the skin of your cheeks. His tender affection is what breaks the dam, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to slow the rush of tears.

“Baby,” He murmurs, “I need you to work with me here. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Is it– Did you find someone else?”

You can hear the way he has to force himself to say the words, almost as if he’s suppressing anger or disgust at the thought. It almost makes you want to laugh; the fact that he thinks someone else is the reason for your behavior rather than yourself. You were the cause of your own heartache.

“Of course not,” You shake your head, breathing shaky and uneven, “It’s just— John, please don’t make me say it.”

“If it is anything close to what I want it to be, I need you to say it. I need to hear it come out of your mouth,” He’s pleading with you, begging you to give him exactly what he needs to make his next move, “I need you to give me a reason to stay, or a reason to leave.”

With his eyes unrelenting from your own, you force yourself to speak through the nauseating nerves, “You’re the only one I want, too. I don’t ever want anyone else.”

Not even a second later, John surges forward and slams his lips on your own in a kiss that would’ve sent you toppling over had you now already been pressed against the door. You’ve kissed John before, plenty of times, but this was different. This was searing, blinding in a way that made you feel like you were floating above the clouds.

John tastes the salt from your tears on your lips, his own meshing with yours in a way that leaves him wondering why he had ever kissed anyone else before. He always thought you were made for him, that you fit perfectly against him, but this was different. This was much more real than it ever had been.

You dropped your hands down to the hem of his t-shirt, slipping them underneath the material so you could delicately drag your nails across the toned muscle. John falters, his teeth accidentally clashing against your own as his body shudders underneath your touch. You can’t help but smile against him, relishing in the fact that you had the same effect on him that he did you.

“Johnny,” You mumble, every nerve in your body desperately screaming for his touch, “Let’s go to my room.”

“Are you sure,” He asks, pulling away so he can clearly look at your face, “We don’t have to— We can just hang out.”

“John,” You start, voice serious and flat, “I don’t want to “hang out”. I’ve been stressing myself out trying to avoid my feelings for you, and I’ve had a shit week. I need you to take me to my bedroom.”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” He rushes out, his hand falling down to carefully grab your own and drag you down the hallway to your bedroom.

He shoves through your bedroom door, tugging you back into his chest as he reattaches his lips back to your own. Your hands fly up to tangle in his hair, gently pulling on his curls as you move your mouth against his own. John’s hands are on your hips, keeping you steady while he walks the two of you backwards until he feels the mattress on the back of his knees. Without breaking apart from you, he sits on the bed and guides your hips so that you’re straddling his waist.

You grind your hips down against him, your hands dropping to the hem of his shirt as you began tugging up his torso. John pulls his mouth away from yours so you can pull his shirt over his head, him doing the same with your own. His eyes immediately dart down to your naked chest, his tongue swiping across his bottom as he cups one of your breasts in his hand. You’re grasping at his shoulders, trying to keep yourself steady on his lap as he begins to suck on the skin of your neck.

Your fingernails dig into his back, breathy pants passing though your lips as his teeth graze over the sensitive spot he’d marked. John groans when you push yourself further onto his bulge, squeezing the flesh in his hands as he drops his head to your shoulder. You slowly grind your hips, creating enough friction to your core that a quiet moan of your own fills his ears. You’re able to find a painfully slow rhythm, but John drops his hands to your hips and keeps you in one place as he meets your lips in a hungry, painfully needy kiss.

“John,” You whisper against his mouth, “Need you now. Please.”

He doesn’t hesitate to lift you off of his lap and place you on the bed, moving away so he’s kneeling in front of you and able to slide your shorts down your legs. He briefly falters in his movements as his eyes drag down the length of your body, drinking in every inch of you as he silently worships you like your body was sculpted for him. Your cheeks flushed, like they always did when he looked at you that way, and you dropped your eyes to the waistband of his jeans as you unbuttoned them.

John watches your fingers fumble with his zipper, his breath hitching in his throat when you flatten your palm against him and press down on him. He throws his head back, but the feeling of your hand was gone almost as soon as it arrived and he felt you tug the material down his toned legs. He kicks them away from him before looking down at you, a smug smile forming on his lips as he watches you clench your thighs together at the sight of his cock in front of your face.

No matter how many times you’d seen him before, the sight in front of you made your mouth water and the wetness between your legs worsen tenfold. You carefully grasp him in your hands, rubbing your thumb over the precum that coated the sensitive head. You feel him shudder from your touch, and it only encourages you to lean forward, but he stops you by taking your chin between his fingers.

“Not tonight, princess,” He lowly speaks, his thumb ghosting over your lips, “I’ve missed you too much.”

You swallow thickly, your eyes wide with anticipation as you look up at him. He’s got his head cocked to the side, his curls an untamed mess on his head as the corner of his mouth twitches. He drops your chin, jerking his head to silently urge you to crawl backwards onto the bed. As you’re doing that, you watch as he walks towards your nightstand and moves to open the drawer that typically houses a small box of condoms.

“John,” You call out, pulling your lip between your teeth, “We don’t— It’s okay tonight. Just don’t, you know.”

“Are you sure,” He asks, dropping his hand away from the handle.

“Yeah,” You nod, “I’m sure.”

A few seconds later, John is back on top of you with his lips on yours as he uses his forearms to bear most of his weight. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on the curls as your mouth moves in sync with his own. You can feel his stiff erection pressed between your thighs, and you lift your hips up in a desperate attempt to get any sort of friction. John moved one of his hands down to grip your hip, his fingers splaying against the skin as he pushes you back down.

“I’m getting there,” His laughter vibrates against your lips, “Just wanted to kiss you first.”

“Wanna feel you,” You whined, his fingers lighting the skin underneath them on fire.

John mumbled under his breath, his eyes darkening as he slides his hand from your hip to grasp his length. He glances back up to you, keeping hold of your gaze as he slides himself between the slickness of your folds. Breathy whines begin to spill from your lips as you pull at the strands of his hair, the teasing anticipation making your heart race more than it already had been.

He slowly pushes himself into your entrance, hissing as your walls clench around him when he bottoms out inside of you. He carefully rocks his hips into your own, keeping himself steady above you and his movements short. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, your eyes screwed shut as he lets you adjust to his size for a moment. Small, shallow whimpers are the only thing he hears as he slowly increases his rhythm as he dips his head down.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” He whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your own, “You’re doing such a good job. You always take me so well.”

“Harder,” You choke out, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you.

John doesn’t need to be told twice as swiftly grips the bottom of your thigh and bends your leg over his shoulder before he harshly slams into you, your cries bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Your hands fall down to his back, fingernails digging crescent shaped indents into his tanned skin as he finds a pace that he’s learned drives you insane in the best way possible.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, filtering in through his ears and making the blood rush straight down to his cock. He loves watching you slowly fall apart underneath, feeling your pussy clench around him like it was made for him. One of his favorite sounds were the moans and whimpers that you made when he was buried inside of you. That sound alone could make him cum.

“Harder,” You repeat your plea from moments ago, deliberately digging your heel in his lower back in an attempt to push him further.

“Fuck,” John groans, his curls sticking to his forehead as he does exactly what you ask.

Skin slapping against skin echoes around you, your whines lacing with his low grunts as you explore the planes of his back with your hands. You feel yourself reaching your release, nearly toppling over the edge as John hits into you so deeply that it was the only thing you could register. You know he’s close too, judging by the way his hips keep faltering and stuttering against your own.

“Johnny,” You murmur as the knot in your stomach begins to come undone, “I love you.”

John swears his heart stops beating in that moment, but he doesn't stop his movements as your walls flutter around him and your nails scrape down his back. He fucks you through your orgasm, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he forces his own back just a little longer. He wanted to feel you wrapped around him for as long as he could, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I love you,” He whispers against your neck, peppering small kisses to the skin as he feels you relax underneath him, “So much.”

John feels himself reel into his own orgasm, and he quickly pulls out of you, letting your leg fall back to the mattress as he grasps his length in his hand. He releases his load on your stomach, careful to not get anything on your mattress or your face as he lets deep moans fall from his lips. Your eyes were drooping, your body coming down from the blissful high still hazing your mind as you watch his head fall backwards.

His chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath, his lips parted and his eyes closed in a way that makes him look unreal. You’d always thought John was pretty with his curly hair, his brown eyes, and his soft features, but the way he looked before you completely took your breath away. There truly was no one else who even came close to him.

He carefully leans over you and presses a small kiss to your lips before he slides off the bed and darts into your bathroom. He’s back almost as quickly as he was gone with a towel in hand, batting your hand away when you try and take it from his grasp. He wipes away the warm, sticky liquid from your skin, making sure to clean you up entirely before he does so himself. He makes sure to put the dirty towel in the basket of already dirty clothes before he returns to you.

“Up,” He instructs, “I can see the goosebumps on your arms, you’re getting under the blanket.”

“I don’t think they’re from the cold, John,” You snickered, but you pushed yourself off and shoved the blanket down underneath your body.

John’s cheek slightly flushed at your comment before he was slipping back in bed, pulling the blanket back up over you and tugging you into his arms. You placed your hand on his chest, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck as he dragged his fingertips down your back. For the first time in a long time, you felt yourself truly relax, and it was all thanks to some guy you met in a rundown bar.

#john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino smut #john marino fic #john marino one shot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

431 notes · View notes

titanic-angel · 10 months

Text

мιgυel o'нara х F!reader

◥︎ 『 coғғee ︎pт.1 』︎ ◣

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ѕυммary ➞︎ yoυ вrιng мιgυel coғғee тo нelp нιм тнroυgн a long worĸ nιgнт

warnιngѕ ➞︎ none

noтeѕ ➞︎ part 2 is up ❤︎

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The evening air was so dry in the summer, and the silence that invited itself into the coffee room buried deep in your skin. The tiles felt cold under your slippers, the setting sun stealing the heat and light from every inch of the room.

You let out a harsh breath, pouring the deep brown liquid into the two cups, staining the white glass with caffeine and steam.

You, Jess, and Peter B had made an agreement since your involvement in the Spider Society had started.

Miguel’s workaholism caused long periods of time, sometimes days, where he wouldn’t even leave his lair, chest deep in his own mind and perfectionism. You all initially believed that his inhumane attributes gave him the stamina to last weeks without rest, but after catching him in deep sleep on his own computer, you realized the goliath wasn’t, in fact, invincible.

So, like any good friends (although Miguel never really used those terms), you took shifts bringing him coffee. With the mugs, Peter and Mayday brought him laughter (all of which was their own, but there wasn’t an indication he didn’t appreciate it), Jess brought him a tough love and a listening ear that fueled his work and you…

Well you weren’t sure what you offered.

You never left without a conversation- and maybe a little coffee yourself. Sometimes he would explain whatever anomaly had taken his attention for the hour, or he would stay silent, listening to you talk about your own day, slightly less exhausting but much more exciting.

Most times, however, you’d give him his coffee, and without saying much, he would look at you.

You are convinced more and more each time that, years ago, his eyes were more brown than they were red. Deep bronze like the color of the coffee in his cup. Younger than they are now. Maybe it was his exhaustion seeping through his irises, but something in the way he looked at you…it felt softer.

Kinder.

You shook off the image as your slippers padded against the hallway marble, the once lively hub now hushed to an empty whisper.

Jess had gone to her universe, undoubtedly resting her weary body, and Peter B eagerly ran home to his beloved red-heads. Homes filled, endlessly, with reunions, warm meals and kisses doused in exhaustion and a love unique to them.

You were happy for them, but you would be lying if you told yourself that you weren’t envious.

Quietly, secretly, you much preferred the hub over your own home, it’s thrum of life filling the emptiness of your crammed apartment. It was depressing to go home to silence after a day of action, which meant many nights you slept in your office, feigning the stress of work and battles to avoid questions from your peers.

You stepped over stray wires and scraps of metal, amongst other abandoned equipment you were sure meant something, once. The dark room was illuminated in neon, flashing lights pulsing across the floor and ceiling.

His gigantic platform came into view, hovering over the pitch floor. The familiar sight of him, surrounded by yellow holograms, greeted your eyes with a brightness that made you squint, vision adjusting to the light.

You caught the butt-end of a conversation, Lyla glitching around his head with attitude. You kept your mouth shut, a little curious to hear their idle chat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Miguel said, flatly.

“Don’t play stupid, I’m an incredibly intelligent A.I. I know fondness when I see it.”

“She brings me coffee- that’s all.”

You paused, muscles tense and the suggestion that they were talking about you.

“I don’t know Miguel~. Peter B and Jess do the same and you aren’t as soft with them.”

“I am not soft!”

“Sure, sure.”

Lyla’s hologram stuttered, and she suddenly focused you. Even from far below, you recognized her mischievous grin.

“Well, I’m feeling awfully tiered. It’s very late y’know! I’ll just let you do your thing!”

“But you don’t-“ Miguel followed her line of sight. He looked down at you with surprise, and you sent him an awkward wave through the cup handle.

“Bye!” Lyla’s drawn out y’s echoed even as she disappeared, Miguel’s hand swiping at the air before she vanished.

He let out a harsh sigh, and you slung up to his platform, handing him a cup. He looked at you again, that faint brown sparkling clearer tonight.

Strange.

“Thank you.”

You nodded, leaning against his table.

“Long night again?” You asked, thumb tracing the smooth glass of the handle.

Miguel nodded, letting another exhausted sigh escape his chest. “Yes.”

You waited for more, but it never came, Miguel shifting near awkwardly as he clicked on the screens with his free hand.

You nodded slowly, taking a sip of your cup. You shuddered, unfamiliar with the pure caffeine. You looked down at your cup, dark brown looking back.

Oh shit.

You watched in short-lived anticipation as he took a sip of your cup. He’s face scrunched in surprise, as if the sweetness of sugar and cream was completely foreign to him.

He looked at you, the red in his eyes more prominent now. Your cheeks strained, but soon the ballon of laughter burst from your chest.

It bounced off the dark walls, echoing around the both of you. You closed your eyes, squeezing out tears as you gripped his desk, laughter shaking your core.

When you regained yourself, you slowly sat up, wiping your wet cheeks and grinning ear to ear. You sighed, small laughs residing with your quickened breath.

“Oh, Miguel you should’ve see your-“

You stopped.

Miguel was smiling.

Well, in the generous sense of the word. Although it wasn’t bright like Peter B’s or gentle like Jess, it was genuine. His eyes crinkled, his lips drawn into a gentle upturn, highlighting his dimples.

Your shocked face must have startled it, because it quickly disappeared, now taught in a hardened, neutral line.

You smiled at him empathetically, slightly guilty you had embarrassed him. You reached out your hand, beckoning your drink.

“Here…let’s switch.”

You fingers brushed at the exchange, and you blushed, the warmth of his skin penetrating your own. If he noticed, he didn’t let it show, taking a quiet sip of his flavorless, bitter coffee.

An awkward silence fell over the two of you, agonizingly different from the laughter just seconds before.

You were beginning to think that he really only was fond of you because you brought him coffee. Sure, you had polite conversation but it never really passed surface level. Not to mention you always initiated it. Maybe Miguel was just playing along, desperately waiting for you to leave him to his work and study.

You sighed, your tone possibly letting on to more than you would’ve liked. You stood, flexing your legs and taking a sip from your cooling coffee, ready to breathe air that wasn’t so endlessly stiff.

“Why- why do you drink coffee with so much sweetness in it?”

You paused, looking at Miguel with surprise. He’d never asked you a question like that. A question about you.

“I uh- well,” you laughed a little bit, still a little startled at the sudden interjection, “black coffee is too bitter for me. The sugar and cream lets me enjoy it.”

“But coffee is meant to energize you, you aren’t supposed to enjoy it.”

You lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s a pretty serious take, don’t you think?”

Miguel paused, lips pressed together in thought before he replied, “I’m a serious guy.”

You laughed, a little quieter now, leaning back onto the table. But this time, closer to him. If you were paying attention, the way his eyes looked at your new position might of told you he noticed.

“I gathered.”

Silence fell over the two of you like a weighted blanket. But now, you had hope that he might want this conversation to continue. That he liked it- you.

“How about this Mr. Serious,” you leaned in, “I’ll give your black coffee another shot if you do the same for my sugar and cream.”

He scoffed, but when the corners of his mouth quirked up you knew the proposition interested him- if only a little bit.

“Absolutely not. I already did try it.”

“First impressions aren’t always accurate, y’know.” You shook your mug, the light brown liquid creating a small whirlpool.

“Try it? For me?”

He glanced at you, and although you thought yourself educated on his eyes and their looks, you were stumped by this one. It was entirely alien to you- there was something in it that you couldn’t place.

You liked it.

He let out a sigh, and held his hand out. You grinned, taking his mug and swapping it for your own.

You both took a sip, and you forced yourself not to wrinkle your nose.

His coffee was extremely bitter- as close as coffee could get to the bean. If his scowl and general demeanor was grown and grind into a beverage, his drink of choice is what it would taste like.

However, it was extremely warm. Somehow it hadn’t cooled off in the fifteen minutes since you had poured it. It’s bitter bliss seeped down your throat and made home in your chest. It was almost calming.

You opened your eyes, surprised to be as content as you were with the drink.

You glanced at Miguel, whose lips were pulled into a tight line. His brows were drawn in thought, eyes glimmering in the hologram light.

“Well?” You asked, rocking on your heels.

“You first.”

You paused, running your tongue over you teeth to remember. “It was a bit gross. But honestly? No bad.”

He nodded, and sighed. “Yours wasn’t….bad either.”

You gasped, a wide smile spreading across your face in stunned victory. “So you liked it.”

“I never said that.” He said, narrowing his brows.

You raised yours. “Didn’t have too.”

He shook his head, handing you the coffee mug. You looked at him as if to ask are you sure? To which he rolled his eyes and pushed it closer to your chest.

You sighed, taking his cup and swapping mugs for the last time. When you looked up at him, sending him a gentle smile, you noticed a thin line of cream that lined his dark lips. You stifled your laughter, stepping forward to a clueless and confused Miguel.

“What are you-“

“Stay put, you have a little-“

You brought your hand up to his face, cradling is course skin under your palm. Your movement stuttered, just for a moment, savoring the feeling of his rough jaw.

You lifted a gentle thumb, your touch but a whisper on his skin as wiped the sweetness from his upper lip. Contrary to his jaw, his lips were soft under your print, molding to your movement with ease.

You imagine they’d taste like coffee.

You paused, your eyes drifting from his lips to his eyes. When they met yours, they were the softest brown you’d ever remember seeing them. It could be how close you were, feeling his slow breath on your nose. It could be how small, short the moment was, catching his facade in a moment of weakness.

But you think, hopefully, foolishly, that it might be how good it felt- to be this close.

You drew your hand away, still staring at the warmth. You settled yourself on the floor, holding your cup with both hands, the once steaming glass now a cold comparison to his face.

“You…you had some cream left on your face.” You laughed weakly, your gaze looking to the side. “I didn’t want Lyla to make fun of you.”

You paused, uncomfortable with the silence your created.

“Sorry.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, with that same glimmer you couldn’t quite place. He cleared is throat, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips.

“It’s- okay…I-“ He paused, eyes finding your again, “thank you.”

He had whispered, speaking as though if he has said it any louder he would’ve scared you away. It was so- gentle compared to the gruffness of his voice. Warm.

The silence that followed was completely novel from the past dips in conversation. It was full of tension, thick and suffocating. It felt as if you had swallowed cement, every breath trapped in your collarbone and buried in your throat.

You stepped back, your vision so deep in his own- their intensity making it feel as though there wasn’t anything else to look at. Even in their softer colors, they were so deeply overwhelming it felt like they had woken something visceral in you. It wasn’t fear, or terror-

It was fondness.

“Well- I think I need to get my own rest,” you tore your gaze from his, setting your coffee down on the table next to him, “I won’t be needing this- I don’t want caffeine dreams. You’re welcome to finish it- now that you like it. A little.”

You smiled up at him, the thrum of your heart and the heat of your breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

His chest rumbled, preparing to speak, before he sighed quietly and quickly, another genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Goodnight.”

You took one last look at the brown- intimate and tailored to yours. One look at the coffee cups, different in every sense but comforting none the less.

One look at the man who may have just given you the home you’d been envious of.

As you slung off into the the void, you smiled at it all, welcoming the shudders of warmth that pooled in your stomach at the revelation.

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The next morning, you woke up in your office yet again, the early morning chill crawling up your spine and beckoning you to wake.

The first thing your eyes were met with was your mug, matte in the morning light.

It was empty, a yellow note rested under it.

I didn’t want it to go to waste.

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Part 2

2K notes · View notes

melminli · 4 months

Text

my boy - by billie eilish

pairing: young coriolanus x fem. reader

summery - he ain't a man and sure as hell ain't honest

word count: 2.5k

contains: angst, slightly dark themes, possessiv but soft coryo, politician coryo, talk about pregnancy and marriage, alcohol consumption

a/n: i have many songs that i think r just so coryo coded, so i thought i would choose one and write something about it. this one is just so him like, every lyric fits him perfectly

You sometimes wondered if there really had been a time when you had truly loved Coriolanus Snow. You didn't want to doubt that you didn't anymore, but the fact that you had any doubts at all said more than you wanted to admit to yourself.

"Don't you want to get dressed?" The voice of the person you were thinking about asked you. As his Fiancée, you should definitely not think about such things. You turned your attention to him and saw him standing in front of the mirror, buttoning the buttons of his expensive waistcoat.

You noticed he was about to tie his black tie next as he reached for it, and you stood up to stop him so you could do it for him. It always looked a little messy when he tied it himself. "I thought maybe I'd stay home this time. I'm a bit tired." You said, concentrating on doing a neat job, even though you probably could do it with your eyes closed by now. Perhaps the reason was more that you were trying to avoid his gaze and also his silence.

He said something back to you as you were pulling the tie tighter around his neck. "I think you should get dressed." Was all he said and ended the discussion with a few words like he always did. It would look bad if I turned up without my fiancée. Though, at the same time - I really need something pretty to look at if I want to get through the evening.

You just sighed softly as Coriolanus walked past you to fix his hair. I think I'd better wear a matching dress then. You went to your closet to look for a black dress and it should be very easy for you to find something suitable since you had a dress for every occasion. Especially since you and Coriolanus had had started to be invited regularly to galas and events.

But you just weren't in the mood. Whatever, this should be fine. You finally decided on one and put it on. However, you had a little trouble zipping up the back, though luckily, your fiancé returned the favor and helped you out. After he finished, he watched your figure in front of the mirror and gave you a gentle kiss on the back of your neck while holding you in his arms. "There you go, my dear, you look beautiful. You should also wear the pearl jewelry I bought you, they would look good on you."

You leaned back into his arms. "Good on me, or good on the wealthy impression you want to give others." You said, already knowing the answer. Coriolanu's gaze sharpened slightly at your words. He didn't like it when you got sassy with him - no matter to what extent. It seemed to be one of your traits that were hard to get rid of, but he hoped that perhaps with time, you would learn to watch your tongue more. I don't think so, but a man can still hope. At least it's not as bad as it used to be.

"Pollux will be there." He announced and sat down on the armchair next to your dressing table while he watched you make yourself pretty for him. One of the reasons why it was there. "But I would argue that one doesn't exclude the other." He came back to your earlier statement.

So, that's what this is about. The name Pollux was not necessarily associated with positive things in your household. Ever since Coriolanus had started getting involved in politics around Panem, the two of them were considered arch enemies, one could say. Both very charming men with sweet words who also each hid a poisonous dagger behind their fake smiles so they could take the other out at the slightest mistake.

"I can't stand that fucking bastard." Coriolanus complained, grimacing as he thought about his face. "If I have to listen to him make one more pun with his name, I'll shoot myself and everyone in the room. Just because your name means crown doesn't mean you're going to get it stupid asshole. I really fucking hate that guy."

Your fiancé rarely swore, at least that's how it used to be. He thought it was bad manners and therefore never did it in public, but well, maybe you secretly just wished that he would show his best side in your presence too and not just to stupid important people.

It didn't suit him. Well, at least from your point of view, it always sounded a bit strange and kind off forced to hear him swear when he hadn't done it for so long. Like he was trying to imitate someone. "You're sounding more and more like your father." You said quietly to yourself, averting your gaze from his hate-filled eyes.

That seemed to cheer him up. "Well, thank you, my dear. Didn't realize you knew so much about him." He said and became curious. He couldn't remember telling you about him. He certainly mentioned him a couple times, but not that much that you could draw that comparison.

It wasn't a compliment. You opened the bottom drawer to pull out the box of pearl earrings and necklace after you finished doing your hair. "I don't know that much. Tigris has only told me a few things from time to time, and that's it."

He hummed as he just shook off his right sleeve a little to look at his watch. "Did she." he replied with his head somewhere else as he abruptly changed the subject to be able to talk about his own interests. "Don't take too long. The Avox should have the car ready by now, and I want to leave soon." He announced and stood up from his seat. He took the necklace from your hand and placed it on your free neck before gracefully pulling the clasp. "What did I tell you, hm? Like a pretty princess." He said in good humor and gently held you by the chin to place a kiss on your lips. My pretty princess. All that's missing is her lonely tower. "I'll go down and see if everything is all right. Just come down when you're ready."

You tried to stay in a good mood too. "Okay, Coriolanus. I'll be right there." you told him, leaving his casual mention of your staff unmentioned. You got tired of talking about how your heart got heavy when you saw the silent workers.

At least you can treat them well while they are working us. Trust me, others would not grant them such luxury. With us, they are better off than most. After all, there is a reason why they are in the position they are now. What kind of luxury? Treating them like ordinary people should not be treated as such, and yet he was right once again. They would be worse off somewhere else, so you should be able to suck it up and do your best to at least give them the dignity of looking them in the eye and enduring their silent nature. After all, they had to do the same.

That's probably what he likes the most about them. You thought to yourself and were pretty sure that your fiancé would approve if you said just as little - to just open your mouth to say what he liked to hear, like a bird that he only let sing when it was his favorite song. Wouldn't he like that? Of course he would. Well, if he wants a quiet good girl then he can fuck off.

"You know, I noticed how you don't really call me Coryo anymore." He briefly stated and left open how he interpreted this.

You continued with your make-up. "Hm? Well, I think it just suits you better now, dear. You're not the same boy you used to be."

He begs to differ. "Don't be like that. I haven't changed that much. I'm still the same Coryo you fell in love with all those years ago." He laughed as he said goodbye to you with one last kiss on your head before leaving the room.

You just sat there with a heavy heart in your lonely room while staring at your silhouette in the mirror. That's what I've been trying to convince myself lately, too.

Thank goodness there's alcohol at these events. As someone who was born and raised in the Capitol and also came from a wealthy family, you were no stranger to popular events.

However, you definitely liked them more when they were considered parties and not some lame adult gathering. You'd give anything to hear the booming music from big speakers now while a few crazy, very drunk people hit the dance floor. It was chaotic, but at least it was real - people weren't hiding behind their pretty dresses and fake smiles like they are now. Whatever, you can't stop getting older, I guess. Maybe it would take a few more years for the Capitol to figure out a way around that, too, but by the time they did, it would have already lost its value.

You started listening again when your name was mentioned. "Now that you're engaged, I suppose the wedding isn't far off, huh?" Mrs. Valentius laughed merrily. If you remembered correctly, she was the wife of the man who had won some important literary prize or something last year. "And we all know that when marriage is near, children are not far away."

You laughed with her, albeit very uncomfortably. I'm not going to elaborate on that. You took another sip of your drink and saw how you just had a little bit left, same goes with your patience, too. I need more of both.

Your eyes looked up again when Coriolanus put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his side. "Of course. The preparations are a little stressful even if they are going well, but who knows, maybe the first one will be there on our big day. What do you say, my dear?" He replied in your place with his disgustingly charming smile. I think I would like it if she was pregnant with my child on the day of the wedding. Would just have to make a few alterations to her dress, but that can easily be arranged.

Yes, you definitely needed a new drink. "Let's see, Coriolanus. Like you said, things are stressful enough right now, and I'm sure you don't want me to be any harder to handle than I already am, huh?" You joked around and laughed with the couple in front of you. I can't believe what kind of shit I'm saying about myself, but those are the only jokes these two douchebags are laughing at, and I really don't want to talk about this subject anymore. "I'm going to go and freshen up, if that's all right with you." You excuse yourself and make your way to the toilets, but not without grabbing a glass from a tray of a walking waiter.

You shut the door behind you and finally felt like you could breathe properly again since you were no longer surrounded by all these people. Could be worse. We didn't meet Pollux and his wife yet, but it's still pretty bad. "Oh, this is a nightmare." You said, leaning your arms on the sink. "Why don't you tell them when we're fucking so they know that the baby is in the making, huh? Ugh, since when did it become normal to get so personal?" You complained and swallowed the contents of your glass in one gulp, feeling it burn in your throat. It felt good.

You wanted to give yourself a few minutes alone to clear your head and come out re-energized, but the more time you spent in the room, the less you wanted to leave. You preferred to hear the voices muffled through the door, but this thought was interrupted when it opened, and you tried to act unruffled for a moment until you realized who was coming in. "Coriolanus? What are you doing here?" You asked nervously as you watched him enter. "This is a ladies' room, you can't be here!" You whispered aggressively as you stepped closer to him and saw him turn the lock behind his back. I should have fucking done that. My head is all fuzzy.

His eyebrows drew together in slight irritation. "Your breath reeks of alcohol. You've had too much to drink." He stated, making a mental note to pay more attention to your consumption next time so it wouldn't happen again. He ignored your earlier statement and continued. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick, or why have you been in here so long?" He asked you, slightly concerned, rubbing your arms as you seemed quite drunk

"No, I'm fine." You replied stubbornly, a little annoyed and couldn't quite find the right words, so you just said the first thing that came into your mind. "I just didn't like all this baby talk."

He hummed and continued to speak to you in a calm tone since you seemed upset. "Well, you know I want kids." He said, trying to be a little more understanding. "But I get why you would find it a bit intrusive. Don't let them get to you. That's just the way these people are." He finished, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Maybe, but that's not the way you have to be. You didn't expect him to apologize for his behavior, but it still didn't hurt any less. "I suppose you're right." You just whispered, trying not to get too emotional under the intoxication.

But you didn't manage to hide it from him. "Oh, my dear. Are you really that upset about it?" Your fiancé cooed as he saw you holding back from bursting into tears. He put his index finger to your chin and lifted your face so you couldn't hide from him. His lips moved to the spot where the first tear fell and left a soft kiss there. "You're too cute. It's really too bad that we still have to wait. A baby would certainly stop the questions, wouldn't it?" He asked you sweetly as he stroked your cheek thoughtfully and lied through his pearly white teeth. "A real shame it is. You should freshen up, I think we can leave a little early tonight since you're not feeling so well."

You just hated that he looked so pretty doing it.

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adventuringblind · 3 months

Text

The Wolf, The Bunny, and the Muppet

Carlando X Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Carlos makes plans, Lando doesn't follow them, and punishment ensues. She's just trying to look cute, is that really so hard?

Warnings: Mildly dark Carlos, Denial, Overstimulation, Bondage, Degradation, Praise, PinV, Marking, Heavy subspace, Lando being a pain, BDSM, unprotected sex (not condoned), crying, anal with mild prep,

Notes: So... this is a thing. I fell in love with this towards the end. Dark Carlos is my new favorite thing. Hope the requester appreciates my effort because this was A LOT. Jk, kinda, but I do hope you like it!!

Side note: feeding my praise kink fuels my motivation to write. I am lacking that currently.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not often Carlos makes a pre-planned effort to put a scene together. He's calculated, sure, but he can also go with whatever the situation calls for.

This weekend is different. He has something he wants to try and has made his partners aware of the plan. It's not often he gets to delve into non-sexual domination. The kind that builds up into something more.

He'd been very clear about the rules after getting them off on Thursday. Hopefully enough to satisfy them (Lando) until Sunday night where he would tear them apart and put them back together.

Lando has always been the trickier of the two. She does whatever Carlos says. Lando can but chooses not to.

Needless to say, that if Lando breaks any of the rule's things will become significantly more difficult for everyone involved. Mostly for himself, but Carlos also doesn't really want to put that much effort into doing something different.

Friday is easy. Lando isn't pent up, both are dressed in outfits he'd picked out, and haven't complained about it. Not that he's expecting it. He's not going to put them in something they aren't comfortable with.

Friday practice goes well. Enough for Carlos to have the energy to tease the pair. He leaves them wanting more, for obvious reasons. There is something so satisfying about having to people who love and trust you, begging for anything you give them. Carlos loves this feeling; addicted to it like a drug.

The climate they are racing in is warm enough that Carlos can comfortably have the female wear a dress that barely brushes the tops of her thighs. It's skimpy, and he loves it. He loves the attention she's getting and how people are gawking at her. There is a primal satisfaction deep down because he knows full well she's his.

On the other hand, he had to wrestle Lando's hoodie away from him. The risk of overheating left Carlos is a predicament. The result being a grumpy Brit who wants to die of a heat stroke but complied regardless.

He manages through qualifying fine. Knowing he's going to find his girl in the garage waiting for him. Carlos gets through media with a PR approved smile. Still eyeing Lando and the fact that he is back in his sweatshirt.

Carlos edges him for hours when they get back to the hotel. His precious girl sits right at his feet, waiting patiently for direction. Eyes glazed over at simply being made to watch and wait.

Lando is sweating horrifically. Carlos left him in the sweatshirt, making him regret his earlier misdemeanors. The Brit is slobbering on the sheets, begging for some reprieve. Carlos helps him take a cold shower when he thinks Lando has learned his lesson.

He makes the podium on Sunday. He's elated, walking on cloud nine. Satisfied with his adrenaline-fueled kisses to his lovers in a back corner before he heads to do media.

It's back in the garage when Charles starts laughing at an Instagram post. It draws Carlos' attention. He looks over to see what's on the screen, only to clench his jaw in utter disbelief.

Lando, is openly flirting with Oscar. His smug look says he knows exactly what he's doing. Of everyone, it had to be Oscar. It could've been Max for all he cared. Oscar just grates on his nerves with the way he looks at Lando.

He ends up having to stay later than expected. Lando had said he was heading back to the hotel to order dinner for them since he was done. Maybe try to make amends for his earlier stunt.

Carlos takes his girl with him. He watches her shudder as he praises her for being all weekend. Not like he expected anything different. Carlos broke her a long time ago. He's still breaking Lando.

He keys the room open, expecting to see food on the table and Lando sitting patiently. What he hears instead is Lando moaning. The sheets shifted around underneath his writhing body.

Carlos just stands and watches for a minute. Lando is clearly aware he's is but making no attempt to stop. The sounds he's letting out are exaggerated and whiny. Terribly desperate for something Carlos won't give him.

"Mmm - Oscah..."

And Carlos snaps. Any semblance of self-restraint disappears. The stoic facade he was trying to keep dissolves into a fiery anger. Red hot and boiling in his stomach.

Carlos storms over to Lando and flips him without any difficulty. He pins him with one hand and undoes his belt with the other. "What a fucking brat. You can't be a slut for one second can you?"

Lando is whining underneath him. It's a pathetic noise, and Carlos soaks up every bit of it. "Desperate little thing." He wraps Lando's wrists in his bet and tightens it. The Brit lay bare and vulnerable at the mercy of Carlos' decisions.

Carlos spares a glance at the female. She has stripped her own clothes and is kneeling by the bed. He wants to drown in the sight and ravish her until neither of them can breathe. "Must you ruin my plans, Landito?"

"Just wanted to feel you."

"Yeah, you're going to feel me for weeks after I'm done with you."

Carlos motions for the girls to come to him on the bed. She crawls to him, big eyes clouded with want. "You're so perfect, amour. I'm going to reward you for being so good this weekend. Lando will watch and take notes."

Lando whines as Carlos rolls him onto his back. Rough and calloused fingers grip at Lando's hips. They tease the sensitive areas where Lando needs him most. Cock achingly hard and dripping.

"Stay put and I might let you cum tonight."

Carlos moves closer to the angelic female, looking at him like he is the only thing in the world. He strips off his own clothes and pulls her body closer to his. The skin on skin alone has her eyes rolling back.

He pushes her head lower. Her mouth opens to receive his cock with no hesitation. She wraps her lips around him with such skill that Carlos can only get lost in it. Hand buried in her hair if only to worship her. There is no need to guide or hold as he bucks his hips up and hits the back of her throat.

It's impossible for him not to take advantage of her mouth. It is harder to stay away from the edge of ecstasy. But he manages, he pulls her off him and slams his lips onto hers.

His fingers slips into her cunt with ease. Wet from the weekend of waiting. The anticipation of feeling him finally comes to fruition.

"Sir, please - I need you." The brg falls from her lips like it's her first language. All she knows is him; drowning in the way his fingers rub against her g-spot. "Need to be filled by you."

Carlos can't deny the girl anything. He burries himself in her. Eye's burning holes into Lando's as he snaps his hips at a relentless pace. "How does it feel knowing this could've been you?"

Lando whines and pouts, hips bucking towards the spainard to find the friction he needs. Carlos grants him nothing but a handprint on his ass. Tears spring into his eyes at the sting. It grants Carlos a sick kind of satisfaction.

His girl pants his name. Her tongue sticks out of her mouth in search of him. The only satisfaction she gains is from being good for Carlos.

He feels her tighten around him, alerting him that she's on the edge. "Wait for me, I'm almost there." He whispers against her skin. She scratches at his back as he picks up the pace. Her own way of claiming him, it sends Carlos' head spinning.

She's begging for it but waiting so patiently. The control he has over her is intoxicating. He could keep her like this forever, but she's been good and deserves a reward.

"Cum for me, you've been so good princessa." She tightens around him, walls refusing to let up. Her body jolts in the pleasurable waves of dopamine and serotonin.

Carlos finishes with a few sloppy thrusts, painting the inside of her white. The only thing left is their heavy breathes as they bask in the high.

Carlos praises her as he pulls out. She whines at the loss of him, so he places a hand on her hip to ensure she knows he's present while in a vulnerable headspace. It's endearing how she needs him.

"See that Lando? Do you think you can be good? Can you listen to my words like the good boy I know you are?"

Lando is sobbing. Putty in the hands of Carlos. Broken and beautiful. Just the way he should be.

Carlos takes pity on him. Places Lando in-between the girls' legs. He waits, unmoving inside of his perfect girl.

He drips lube all over his fingers and takes care in opening up the Brit, but leaves him right enough to ensure a bit if a sting still.

Lando is keening. He's trying so hard not to move; to be good for Carlos.

Carlos takes his time sinking into the Brit. Each movement sends him further into the warmth of his Carlos' perfect girl. Lando is sobbing now, begging for anything Carlos is willing to give.

Carlos finally gives in. He show the two of them to mercy. Teeth clamping onto Lando's neck to mark him and fingers pinching the girls nipples causing her to shreik.

Perfect for him.

His.

All his.

Carlos fucks them into overstimulation. He's relentless and refuses to let the moment go to waste. Not when they are sobbing in pure ecstacy.

They chant his name, and he feeds off it. He could live in this place. Only hearing them worship him for the rest of his life.

Finally, he slows. He pulls out gently and whispers words of encouragement and praise. He kisses up and down their bodies and worships them because they are completely his.

He cleans them up with gentle hands, let's them know how much he loves and adores them.

Carlos cuddles them to sleep. The feeling of their hearts beating on either side of him only sends him further into the chasm of adoration for the two.

Hearts that are beating with his in tadem.

Hearts that beat for him.

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ivesambrose · 5 months

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

1. 2. 3.

✧༺🤍༻ ✧༺🤍༻ ✧༺🤍༻ ✧༺🤍༻ ✧

applicable for future spouse/soulmate/partner whatever term you prefer 🩵

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]

Personal Readings

Masterpost

Thanks for the tip

Picture 1

They'd happily carry your burdens for you and then some. The type to make sure you're not taking on too much of something you can't really handle. At the same time, if you insist that you can do it and continue to push forward they'd be your biggest cheerleader.

They're patient and very observant of you, so the gifts you receive, even if random ones will still feel thoughtful and special to you.

The kind to save up just to splurge on something expensive for you.

Also the kind to take you far away from a situation or place so you can rest your mind.

Picture 2

Grounded in their emotions, patient, calm and composed. When you feel like everything inside your head is going haywire, they will be your safe space. When you're impulsive they'll walk you through your thoughts and feelings so you don't end up doing or saying something that you might regret later.

An active listener, you can tell them anything without feeling the burden of judgement or guilt weighing down on you.

Rather poetic aswell. May not always express their feelings for you in words but will have a song for it.

Picture 3

They'd learn everything about you but they'll do it secretly. You would think you'd need to explicitly state certain things about yourself but they are a couple of steps ahead with that. Very intuitive by nature.

This is someone who likes to surprise you, I just have a feeling you'd be stunned by the fact that they just know what to say or do or react. They love to spoil you in any way you'd prefer, gifts or otherwise. They also like a good playful banter or tension. They wanna be the best in your eyes, the one and only and can get rather competitive too.

They'd want to involve you in everything they do and you feel comfortable being involved in. They'd like to hold you closer every chance they get, celebrate your little and big victories, let you know that you can always rely on them no matter what.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #spiritual community

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

Employed 01 | jjk

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

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: ceo!jungkook x reader

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

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: explicit language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 16.4k+

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

index (to be added)

El: I think I'm drunk again

"think or know?"

El: know then

El: turns out I didn't have sex yesterday

El: god I already masturbated twice today!!!

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

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

"make it three then"

El: it's not helping :/

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

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

El: that's true lol

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"no :("

El: don't worry! you just got there

El: I'm sure you'll find one soon x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you ordered anything yet?"

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

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

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

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

"No scolding?"

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

"Of course you were." he laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh god."

"No, listen to me," he presses.

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

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

That has your eyes widening.

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

"Since when do you drink whiskey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Miss? Where are you going?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This one has short hair, perfectly straightened and styled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gulp, curling your toes in your heels.

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

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

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

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

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

It's huge.

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

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

"Are you going to come in or not?"

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

A man.

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

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

"Are you mute?"

What the–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, he is unfazed.

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

This dude is fucking–

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

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

You need this.

This is your chance.

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

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

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

"I'm the CEO."

Of course he is.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Congratulations, you mentally snark.

What does he want you to say?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm a reliable person."

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

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

"Why should I give you a chance?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, she's here."

Hoseok.

He's calling him.

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

"Ho–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you again, Mr..."

His jaw clenches.

"Jeon."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My friend?" he deadpans.

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

"Jung Hoseok?" she asks unsurely.

Of course it's Jung Hoseok.

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

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

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

Jung Hoseok is one of those people on the list.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Indeed," he mutters.

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

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

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

"I'm busy."

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

He rolls his eyes at Hoseok.

"So I came to you."

"Why? We saw each other last week."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What does that mean?" he gasps.

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

"Okay, that's actually very rude!"

Jungkook shrugs. "It's true."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Her skills? Education?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Jungkook!" he whines.

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

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

Jungkook lifts a brow.

"You know I never ask you for anything."

That one's true.

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

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

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

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

It's silent for a few moments.

"Please."

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

"Just give her a chance."

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

"Fine."

He cringes when he hears a loud squeal of excitement.

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

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

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

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

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

"Great! Well, I would ask anyway."

Of course he would.

"Don't forget to eat."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What opportunity?" you scoff.

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

"He made me feel stupid."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come on now..."

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

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

"No shit."

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

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

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

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

You'll need to prove yourself.

To wipe that arrogant look from Jeon's face.

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, shut up!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or Jungkook. Like Hoseok calls him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How did you find out about it only now?

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

Thinking about it now, it makes sense.

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

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

That's something you forgot to ask Hoseok.

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

You do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, that's right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you prefer pants or a skirt?"

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

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

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

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

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

Luxury.

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

You nod as she glances around.

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

"Thank you."

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

"Okay, thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Follow me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course." she says.

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

"Well, good luck on your first day."

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

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

"Soyeon."

"Thank you, Soyeon."

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

That's easier said than done.

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

"Don't mess up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay."

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

Is he a king or a boss?

Mr. Jeon seems like the biggest menace already.

"Are you listening to me?" she frowns.

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

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

This is insane.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Won't the coffee turn cold?"

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, she leaves with no words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, okay, thank you."

In fact, Saja did not tell you about it.

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

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

Mr. Jeon can go fuck himself.

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

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

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

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

You see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your coffee?" you ask dumbly.

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

"Is this a joke?"

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

"I don't drink macchiato."

How were you supposed to fucking know that?

"I'm sorry–I didn't–"

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

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

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

Is this a fucking coffee shop?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She probably got it mixed up."

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

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

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

She purposely gave you the wrong coffee.

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

Not that the previous mistake was really your fault.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Look at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want their presentations sorted out."

Oh my god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay?" you ask unsurely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That freaked you out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Max." Soyeon warns him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I got him the wrong coffee."

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

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

"Was he mad?" Max asks.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah." you deadpan.

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

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

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

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

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

This man is busy. Not the usual busy.

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

No wonder the man is so bitter.

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

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

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

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

"Okay–"

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

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

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

That wasn't so bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you, your Highness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?"

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

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

"You were supposed to leave an hour ago."

"I wasn't sure–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You said you would give me a chance."

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

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

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

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You and your threats."

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

Are you interrupting something?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I hope everything's right."

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

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

"You really want this job, right?"

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

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

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

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

Well, damn. What encouraging words.

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

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

"You do a lot of hoping."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Got it."

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

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

"Any restaurant preference?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So order something and eat."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is your boss hot?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatever that's gonna be, I feel like it's not gonna be anything better."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because his company is one of the best known in South Korea. He's a millionaire."

"Maybe you could work for another millionaire then." she jokes, earning another glare from you.

"It's not that simple."

"Hm," she hums, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Is he like, super famous? I could google him. What was his name?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "He's known but he's private. People tend to put their interest and attention on idols and actors, actresses. Not millionaire heirs."

"You know what you should do?"

"What?" you deadpan, knowing one of her brilliant ideas are about to come out.

"You should make more friends. You never know. They might help you in the future, in any field."

That's not exactly a bad idea, you know what she means.

"I'm not gonna make friends just so they could help me when I need them." you point out.

"That's now what I meant," she argues, "Not in that way. But it's not bad to know more people. You gotta understand you don't have your family there, Y/N."

"I know that." you mutter, rubbing your forehead as you make yourself more comfortable in your bed.

"Just think about it."

"Yeah, yeah." you wave the topic off. "I'm ready to make more friends. But currently, there aren't many opportunities to do so."

"What about your co-workers?"

"Right," You press your lips together. "They're all... I don't know, some of them are very welcoming and obviously, the company is large so I don't know everyone. I don't think it's even possible. But some of them are really serious. I don't know how to explain it."

"Maybe it's a cultural thing?" she questions.

"They're just very skilled in everything and I'm a newbie." You're reminded of Max's words. He calls you a newbie.

"It will get better, I'm sure."

You're not sure about that, but you nod and end the topic there. You catch up over other stuff, mainly your sister talking about the reconstruction of her and her boyfriend's bathroom. Once a set of yawns keep coming in the midst of your call, you decide to end it there.

Making sure your alarm is set, even though it's automatic by now, it takes you a minute to stare at the ceiling before darkness swallows you whole.

This time more confident to meet Mr. Jeon's orders and deep eyes that follow you into your dreams.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #bts au #ceo!jungkook #personasintro

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avelera · 1 year

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Was thinking about how Hob and Dream could both be insufferable in some way because, in fairness, Hob comes across as someone who could make friends with bread if left in a room with it long enough.

Then I had a thought:

What if Hob Gadling is just super fucking insufferable to other immortals?

See, Dream is... difficult for mortals to get because he's got his whole eldritch thing going on. But while he's not particularly popular with them, I imagine other immortals at least get and respect his whole deal. Like, he's the Dreamlord. Of course he's weird. But they understand the laws and principles he's referring to at least when he's being weird. He seems to at least have a pleasant relationship with the Faerie Court. It's mortals who can't really connect with Dream and find him exasperating as a result.

Whereas Hob gets along great with mortals, just swell. He's Just A Guy who happens to live forever and people get along with him. But immortals? We don't really see it much but immortals positively loathe this guy.

Dream's reaction to the whole, "I've made up my mind, I've decided not to die!"? Hob tossed out in 1389? That's the teeth-grinding level of irritation Hob engenders in every immortal he comes across (before they have centuries to get to know him) and it is exactly why Death just had to make this man immortal because it would be hilarious.

Why doesn't Hob hang out with other immortals besides Dream? Because the minute he opens his mouth about how great life is and how he's never had even a moment's doubt about how much he wants to live, every immortal in the room starts to make the gagging motion.

You're an immortal just trying to have a bit of a kvetch about Kids These Days and how much times have changed and how it was better in your day, and there's Hob fucking Gadling again ready to throw down about how amazing antibiotics and automobiles and the latest iPhone number whatever are and like, sure, but you were just trying to say back in your day things were better, right? Not objectively maybe but you're just trying to indulge in a bit of immortal nostalgia and Hob fucking Gadling is not having any of it and is ready to argue you into the dirt about it.

You're immortal but haven't quite kept up on today's slang? Hob Gadling will absolutely call you out and he's a teacher now so he's going to be super nice about it but you know he's judging you for saying groovy unironically and thinks you should get with the times already.

You're a vampire living off centuries of generational wealth? Hob keeps talking about how you should get a job and get out of the spooky mansion more, and maybe you wouldn't feel so much existential angst. You like your existential angst!

Hob doesn't have a single ounce of patience for immortals who want to wax poetic about wishing they were mortal again. Diseases, he says, have you ever had diseases? Like even a cold? It sucks. It really fucking sucks. The Plague? The fucking worst. You don't need to be mortal to get involved in mortal life, Hob fucking Gadling keeps pointing out at the monthly eldritch coffee meetups. You can just live as a mortal and share in their problems and enjoy the fact you don't have to deal with the shit parts like getting sick. Completely missing the point of the futile lamentation of regretting one's lost mortality is something you enjoy.

Hob harshes the vibe of every single immortal out there. They are so goddamn sick of him. There's a reason he has no apparent immortal friends or connections to the supernatural world despite (in the comics) seeming to have met other immortals and having the occasional supernatural encounter that he immediately brushes off as dull when compared to what the normal, every day world has to offer.

No other immortal can fucking figure out what Dream of the Endless sees in this guy, and how he can stand to talk to him even once a century without storming off (which, in fairness, Dream has done on 2/7 occasions). Dream, not otherwise known for his patience, is seen as a saint in the eldritch community for even spending as much time as he has over the course of 600+ years with Hob fucking Gadling.

#hob gadling #the sandman #sandman meta #dreamling

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sophie-frm-mars · 2 months

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I'm not sure how much people are talking about Aaron Bushnell having engaged with online leftist media, but the records show that they were a viewer of a bunch of different twitch streams, including mine, and subscribed to a bunch of patreons, including mine. I'm not going to inflate my importance here, the livestream link was sent directly to Talia Jane and Anark, so those are probably the voices Bushnell felt the most connected to and followed the most directly, like idk if they also subscribed to someone's patreon after watching a video abt Cars 2 or whatever, I'm not trying to examine whether social media drove the self immolation because I think that's disrespectful to the memory of someone who literally died screaming Free Palestine. I don't personally know of any leftist creators who directly advocate political suicide, and I know that we all share in the political understanding that underscored Bushnell's decision.

I've already made a point of telling my patreon server that my politics are about growing into each other and supporting one another and that if anyone asked me if I thought they should do what Bushnell did I would say no absolutely not.

I'm ruminating a bit on the nature and meaning of the protest, because a lot of people are engaging with the image of a man in fatigues on fire, standing proud and declaring "FREE PALESTINE", while I've seen others talking about the fact Bushnell's username on several platforms was LillyAnarKitty, mourning the loss of a potential trans sister, talking in depressive terms about the act of suicide, to which I think the people who are engaging in the more macho interpretation of the protest are saying "no it was cool and masculine, it wasn't suicide in the conventional sense it was about principle!" I think there's room for plenty of both. For the record LillyAnarKitty used he and she pronouns in discord servers.

Andreas Malm's approach to self-sacrifice and self-endangerment is that we as subjects of the imperial core are in a sense, precious. Valuable. We are supposedly what it is all for. The imperialist project must be doing it for the citizens of the imperialist nations because if it isn't, then it has to nakedly admit that it is doing it all for the intense power and wealth consolidation of a tiny tiny number of soulless ghouls. Therefore when we put ourselves in harm's way in a way that says you would have to destroy me to get to the thing I care about, we leverage the implicit value of ourselves for our principles. A planned protest by Palestine Action against the London Stock Exchange was allegedly going to involve locking the actionists' necks onto the mechanism of the door into the LSE making it impossible to enter or leave without probably killing them, for example. I think that Bushnell's self immolation sits on a sort of dissonance, my life is precious and my life is worthless. My life is precious and so you should care about the obvious tragedy that I am enacting and my life is worthless if thousands upon thousands of Palestinians are killed as part of the project that enables the life that I lead.

There is also the way that people have debated the meaning of "complicit in genocide" - Bushnell worked in USAF Intelligence and the US has active troops in Palestine, it's possible that they were already culpable in an unknowable number of deaths without having set foot there.

In one sense it's a little pointless to debate the fine details of the meaning of Bushnell's protest in the same way that it's pointless to pick over any feelings of responsibility that I and I know other people that we know they watched are feeling. When I first saw the video I was struck by the language, by their concise and astute analysis and I knew, without knowing just how closely that they were plugged into the same intellectual and political milieu as us. In that same sense I think that they already described what they did the best that any of us are going to be able to:

“My name is Aaron Bushnell. I am an active-duty member of the United States Air Force, and I will no longer be complicit in genocide.”

“I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest. But compared to what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers, it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

"Free Palestine."

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qawcamiz · 1 year

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A Reward

VAL + MLIST ; Happy Valentine's! It doesn't intrude on anyone if you'll be spending the particular day this month brings in, alone, we can spend it together with these one-shots I've prepared just for you, hoping it would send passion to you.

NSFW : office sex, secretary x ceo, humiliation, dominance, cockwarming, teasing, fingering, exhibitionism, praise, teasing, pet names, riding, cursing, degradation, penetration, etc.

note : I was only gonna do one character but since I've been inactive, yall take this, Happy Valentine's! The poll's ending and so far, secretary y/n x ceo is in the lead, whatever won would be the result for the female version as well. 💗

[ male ver. ] — Al Haitham, Ayato, Dainsleif, Diluc, & Tartaglia

│ AL HAITHAM

doing something nasty with your boss was something you never thought would ever happen to you in your lifetime of work at a publishing company, especially in your life as a bitter individual, but here we are, with the most recent edition in progress. you felt your stomach flip whenever he would thrust up his cock inside you further, the warmth radiating off his body seeping into yours, and that one thing you had always been discreetly craving for came right back again.

it's funny how all those sexual thoughts about him that you have never really let yourself admit to anyone, in particular, come rushing to mind when you think about what it might be like to fuck him, to have sex with him, it’s almost enough to make you feel ashamed from your desires.

"S-Sir... Please..." you begged him, and though it was difficult for you not to plead with him since he liked edging and teasing you like this to get you into positions where you would just do what he said or say something he wanted you to, you pushed your best to the limit to withstand him.

"Can't even wait until I finish my work, huh? Like a naughty thing you are, entering my office without even knocking first." He whispered seductively, You bit your lip, hoping you didn't make things worse for yourself by refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry... I-It won't happen again... I... Was just in hurry to- to get the work done as fast as p-possible so you'd get off early, s-sir..." you explained, your voice quivering and barely audible, but you were doing everything you could to hide how flustered and embarrassed you were at that moment. You didn't want to seem weak before him, it would only make him more determined to have you as his cocksleeve,

He hummed in reply, and you heard the shuffling of papers behind you, "So what? You want me to award you or something for doing that? I never asked you to rush the work, but if you must insist on having your head held down, then I can't deny you this." he told you. You gulped and looked at him sheepishly, You weren't exactly sure what he meant, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't refuse anything he asked, especially if it involved getting to kiss him or touch him, you just couldn't help yourself sometimes, you had fallen hard for him. "if you can wait for me to finish this, who knows? I might even consider rewarding you."

│ KAMISATO AYATO

The sound of skins clapping and your wails are the only voices that permeate the room. You’ve lost trail of time after all this. In a way, You wouldn't lie, it was kind of nice though, being so immersed in the sensation of someone else or rather your 'boss' who's doing you to such a great extent that it leaves you feeling like a mess.

The chimes that come out of your mouth were loud enough to drown out any thoughts and doubts that might come to the surface, even if you try not to think about them at all. You're not certain how long you've been laying there with your hands clutched together, but all you could think at the moment is how much satisfaction he had given your body from the inside.

"You've been working pretty hard, (y/n)," You felt an arm caress your waist, Ayato pressed his lips against your neck. "And for that, You deserve a reward." His lips move to smooch your skin as he speaks to you, sending shivers down your spine every time. It's almost like he knows precisely what you feel and how to please your body just right, leaving you unable to move on your pact.

the way his cock moved inside your tight walls while he fucked you into thoughtlessness and made you enjoy the moment better... It made your heart beat faster, He was so fine, the way he would move with his lips on your neck and his cock into you made everything more severe than it should have been.

"A-Ayato~" you couldn't help but whine loudly when he started moving slowly in and out of you from behind. The oscillations of his hips against your own caused warmness to pool between your legs, stretching out through your whole body and making you want more. He groaned and bit your earlobe. "Normally, I'd be furious for you calling me by my name informally just like that, but today I'm just too busy here to care," Ayato said in between heavy pants. Your mind went blank as you felt him hit that particular spot, causing you to arch up and let out another moan that sounded less like a word and more like a plea.

│ DAINSLEIF, & DILUC

you were always curious about his reputation, in fact, you never get how your workmates are drawn into him! He was all cold and mysterious, always working at his desk and barely interacting with his employees. But then again, there is no shortage of people who are frigid and bizarre, to begin with. You know this. everyone was envious of you for being taken the yield of as his 'assistant' but that's just how things are between the two of you. It's not like he behaves toward you differently or anything, it's just that you can see right through the facade he puts up when it comes to his emotions toward others.

so now it's all weird to say that you're giving your boss the best day ever, How did it happen? it was because you had an argument with him and now with his dick inside your mouth, it felt really good, especially when you heard some sounds coming from his pretty lips. He sounded like he was having trouble controlling himself and you thought he would stop you but he didn't. so that's when your brain finally clicked. you were both horny, and the only way to relieve that pain would be to do something to each other.

but no, you were being disciplined for speaking disrespectfully toward him, and now would you even call this punishment? giving him a head like this makes you feel incredible, especially when your hands roam around his body, touching what you could brush. you don’t know how to describe his body, he has a ton of muscles that move with every movement he makes. it’s all amazing to you. you wish this feeling will last permanently because right now you think you could fall asleep with this man's cock inside your mouth, your lips wrapped around his shaft.

you’ve been sighing softly and he seems to be getting a kick out of this too. maybe he finds it as arousing as you do, maybe he's aware of what you want, or maybe he doesn’t give a damn either. you don’t know but he seems to be getting more impatient, and soon his hand is on your hair, pulling slightly so you open up further to take a better hold of his cock. “oh... your mouth... Fuck” he mutters breathlessly before thrusting into your throat harder than before. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second and you don’t think that’s fair because this isn’t even fucking you yet.

the noises he makes and how his dick slides into your mouth smoothly feel like heaven in the best way possible. he’s almost completely out of breath by now and looks like he might collapse any moment. you have him now, your fingers tightly wrapped around his shaft, pumping him with your mouth as hard as you can just to earn his forgiveness.

| TARTAGLIA

Your tight walls hugged his cock as if they were the very walls of your heart. Your hands held resting on his shoulder with your weight as you pressed your body onto him. You rode him hard until he cried out in euphoria. His face was buried in your neck, his hair was soft, and his scent was intoxicating.

He felt you squeezing his hips to keep his cock deep inside of you. He was aching for discharge, you could sense it. But the instant his hand wrapped around your waist, you gasped. His touch left an ice-cold trail across your back. The way his fingers traced circles on your skin made you shudder. He had that effect on you that no one else ever could. It was so powerful, so captivating. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized how much you liked this.

You like all of the noises he's making, the feeling of your thighs against each other, the roughness of your bare legs digging into his chest. You're sure that it makes him think of other things too when you're fucking him, but you don't mind at all. There's just something about having someone so passionate about sex, but so careful with everything else as well. "You're so tight..." he groaned, It's like you're in sync with each other, both of you moving in perfect tandem. You want to be as close to him as possible. So when he touches your shoulders or your ass, you let go and take his hand wherever you can reach. And that feels good. You love his big strong hands roaming over you. They are bigger than your own but softer. Like when he caresses you from behind, his touch lingers as it travels upwards.

"Not only were you good at seducing others," he says, "But you also knew what you were doing." His breath tickles your ear and you shiver. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your hole has you moaning softly. It seems like the only thing that sounds louder than your breathing, and that alone makes you crave more. Your body aches for more. Your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you. You move your hips up again and again, pushing yourself against him as if trying to draw every bit of his cock into you. It drives both of you insane. All of it. Everything.

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manias-wordcount · 7 months

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Four's a Party (Chrollo Lucilfer, Hisoka Morow, Illumi Zoldyck)

Kinktober 2023 Day Ten: Foursome

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

They’re not the most dynamic trio.

Oh sure. They’re all very powerful. You wouldn’t want to know that Illumi Zoldyck had your name and place of residency memorized for any other reason besides the fact that you gave it to him. You wouldn’t want to be caught dead with something- anything that Chrollo might want for himself. And to be the object of Hisoka’s attention- even for a moment- is like placing your hand into Death’s all by your own free will. Together, they’re even more deadly. Even more of something to be afraid of.

But you also wouldn’t have called them the best of friends. People who would go out of their way to check in on each other. To do something fun together. That wasn’t them. In fact, you always saw them for what was beneath their surfaces. The sizing of each other up. The cockiness and arrogance with each word spoken to each other. The quiet rivalry that existed no what day or time or year or place. And so it doesn’t surprise that when they come together, that tension still sits in whatever room they’re in. Getting thicker and thicker and thicker. Making it hard for people like you to breathe. But what does surprise you is that sometimes, the tension is no longer quiet. The tension can become more than just “jokingly” throwing a pin needle in the direction of someone’s eye with the excuse of “I knew you would dodge it.” And sometimes, the tension can involve you.

Or rather, it can involve three pairs of hands running all over you as they urge you to say one name louder than the rest. His name.

Whoever that may be in the moment. Though rarely a moment goes by when you’re around, and all three of them aren’t vying for your attention. Some moments it’s more subtle. Like touches to your shoulder and hands around your waist. Sometimes it’s more bold. Like requests for kisses and flowers when you least expect them. And sometimes? And sometimes it’s dirty, filthy, and sinful.

Sometimes it’s spending the night on the floor of a fancy hotel. Sucking off one man while another laps at your cunt like a starving, dying man- hoping that the one person with their cock stuffed inside your ass isn’t the one who’s making you cry out and squirm so sweetly like that.

“Deeper, sweetheart.” Chrollo hums from above you, a little to your side. Through fluttering lashes and eyes starting to tear up, you can see the almost warm smile he gives you. Just you. And it’s the slightest bit comforting- just like the way he cups your jaw with one hand and holds your hair back with the other as you do your best to swallow as much of his dick as your throat lets you. But he’s hard and he’s thick and he's long and there’s so much happening to you right now that it makes it hard for you to do just about anything right. But Chrollo is kind to you. Chrollo is gentle with you. Sweet on you. So he’ll opt for saying a few encouraging words and shoving it in deeper himself. While you’re in between breaths of course. “...that’s it, there you go.”

You start choking almost instantly, as Chrollo manages to slide a little deeper inside your warm, wet throat. For a second, you’re struggling to breathe. Forced to do nothing but let him stroke your cheek as you try to regain what you lost. It’s a hard couple of seconds. One that makes the threes fall a little faster, and your heart beat a little quicker than it had been before. But eventually, you balance out. You get your stability. You relearn how to breathe with a cock stuffed in your mouth. You find that all is well.

But only then, does Hisoka’s lips decide to reacquaint themselves with your clit again.

“Mmm…” You’re forced to moan against Chrollo’s dick at the sensation, but he’s gracious enough to let you pull off of him after a couple of seconds to enjoy what’s being given to you. And so, the leader of the Phantom Troupe’s cock falls from your mouth with a lewd, lewd pop and your voice is free to sing as loudly to the hotel room walls as Hisoka can make you. “...Wait, wait, wait-”

But he doesn’t wait. The clown you’re oh-so deeply terrified of doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath or regain your bearings. Instead, he just lets his eyes flicker up from between your parted legs to you and a smirk plays at his lips before his head goes back to burying itself in between your thighs. And there you are- stuck watching and whimpering and withering as a long, skillful tongue flicks itself against your clit and circles it was a little too much skill to be natural. Up and down. Side to side. In circles. Creating shapes.

He does all that despite your cries. He does all that despite your pleas. And you’re nice and good and messy and creamy for him once more, he decides it’s time to go back to licking down the expanse of your slit. Tasting just about everything you have to offer in this moment again and again and again and again. And when that isn’t enough for him? He starts grabbing at your thighs- lifting you up further and further and spreading your legs wider and wider as his nails press into your skin and his tongue slips between your lower lips. Wandering and swimming and exploring your insides. Like they were his all along.

But the second he moved your body, somebody else rejoined the fight. Someone who isn’t so keen on being ignored or not in control of the situation. Especially when it has to do with a certain murderous, sociopathic, literal clown who’s currently busying himself with poor, spent little cunny right now.

“Don’t hog.”

That’s all you’re able to hear Illumi say before he starts to move you himself. Immediately, you’re gasping out as the man lying beneath you lifts his legs up to prop yours up even further. Hisoka easily is able to follow your body’s movements and doesn’t even stop eating you out for a moment. Chrollo doesn’t fail to take advantage of this opportunity either. With this angle, you’re up a little higher. And with a hand on your cheek once more, he’s turning your head and slipping his cock down your throat. A little easier than before. But it’s not the sudden intrusion of a dick brushing against the back of your throat that gets you to cry out and moan this time. Nor is it the feeling of Hisoka tongue-fucking you in that way you know only he is capable of.

No, no, no instead it’s the feeling of Illlumi's own cock. Going a little further up your tiny little puckered hole. Spread you out nice and wide like you never imagined you’d get spread out before.

And you absolutely loved it.

“Don’t get jealous. You don’t move your hips enough to upset with me.” Hisoka remarks back, taking his face away from your pussy just long enough to shoot some harsh words back at the assassin. But all too soon, he’s back to paying attention to your body- blowing against your clit and kissing it softly. Almost as if apologizing for losing focus on you. “Who do you think got her wet for you to enjoy this, hmmm?”

At Hisoka’s blow, Illumi starts to sit up- forcing his cock a bit deeper inside of you a little too suddenly. Once again, you pull your mouth off of Chrollo’s cock in favor of letting out a loud, loud gasp that falls into a nice and needly little moan real quickly. Your hand comes up and settles over your lower stomach. Almost as if that would ease the intense feelings being delivered onto you in this moment. Very subtly, Illumi is starting to rock his hips beneath you. Pressing just barely further before pulling out a little. You moan again at that feeling as Illumi’s own hands come up to put themselves against your stomach and press down. But before you can let out another pleasure-filled sound, Chrollo is grabbing your face and leading it towards him for the umpteenth time tonight. And you don’t even have to wait to be told to open your mouth and stick out your tongue for him.

You just do.

And Chrollo makes quick work of your throat. Using and using and using it to his heart’s contents. Just like how Hisoka makes quick work of your pussy- lapping and licking and sucking and slurping it up as your juices spill over and your nectar runs free. Just like how Illumi rolls his hips into yours. Soaking up your gasps and letting out his own groans and grunts about just how tight and perfect you are. And so the three of them work in unison. They move in tandem- taking their own turns distracting you. Producing your moans and your pleasure and the warm, growing feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s starting to get more and more unbearable with time.

Some more words are exchanged. Some more threats are said. A few more glares. A few more changes in the aura. And sometimes translates into someone snapping their hips into yours. Sometimes that translates into someone sucking your clit a little too hard. Or making you swallow so much dick that you’re stuck drooling all over yourself as your hands tighten into fists and all you can do is struggle to breathe. All so that way they can stop. Let you rest. Let you breathe. Let you exist. And then put you back into the same place while the three of them change positions.

Enjoying different parts of you that they didn’t get to explore before.

Though in the end, you still don’t think they’re the most dynamic trio. They’re powerful people. Powerful on their own. Powerful in their own right. But in a way, they feel far too different. Far from friends. But exactly like people with a shared goal. A shared vision. A shared toy, even. So, it’s true. Sometimes, they mesh together very well. A little too well. Without even trying. Without even wanting it too bad. Sometimes, they mesh together very, very, very well. At least, you know they do sometimes. You know they do.

Especially when it comes to you.

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mickyschumacher · 7 months

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Hi!!! I just wanna say that I really love your writings!!! Their so good hehehe!! Can you do one a mick x wolff!reader?? Maybe one where toto sets them up cause he is tired of seeing them make heart eyes at each other and not making a move HHHH. Thank you lovie!!🤍

𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: love at times is shy and oblivious. like you and mick. but sometimes all you need is a father and a plan (with some backups!).

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 16+? (suggestive), fluff, poor humour as guaranteed, (loosely) based on the movie 'set it up', no sense of a motorhome ♡︎, mention of christian horner :(, possibly cringe, basically childhood friends to lovers trope, reader is lowkey a menace, confessions are made, toto in line for best dad award?, google translated german :0, a mess in general!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mick schumacher x wolff!fem!reader, joão felix x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: okay so i've been waiting for a good mick plot but nothing was coming to mind but this! this screams mick! thank you so much for your praise. hope i do them justice with this although the plot holes are there!!

𝐏.𝐒: i'm curious on how people envision themselves as wolff, horner, vettle readers, etc. if you're coloured like me, do you pretend to be adopted or from a previous relationship if it isn't specified? 😭 i mean the explanation has to be viable lmao. maybe you just don't imagine?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

There were certain values a Wolff had. Those that were just innate.

A Wolff, more often than not, was a leader, intelligent, charismatic, good-looking, and embedded with dad jokes. Additionally, when a Wolff wanted something, they would do whatever to get it. They didn't leave any leaf unturned, they made the rounds and the effort.

It didn't make sense. You had all of those values. Yet, every time you joined the Mercedes garage, your father, Toto, found himself questioning everything.

Take now for example. He was in the beloved Mercedes garage, sat next to the best reserve driver he had ever chosen, Mick.

Parents tend to be protective of their children before they're even born. And it only amplifies after they're born. From which strangers you meet, the roads you cross, the seatbelt you have to wear to the clothes you wear, the suspiciously high phone bill and your romantic endeavours. A father's protection for his little girl was a tad bit stronger than this, special in it's own way.

Toto would do anything to protect his children, especially his little girls. And if any guy was making moves on you, right in front of him, the 'dad' side of him was just waiting to come out.

But he could only do that if someone actually made a move on you. Sure there were other guys but the one sat right next to him did nothing but shyly follow you with his blue eyes and blush in your presence.

Mick was seriously frustrating Toto and his wife. The both of them had watched the German boy watch you with heart eyes ever since the both of you had first met at the Schumacher's house for dinner. You were young back then but hell, within five minutes everyone knew that Mick was a lovesick puppy.

Years had gone by with your friendship becoming stronger. Those same years involved Mick and you being stuck to each other as if you were hip-to-hip. You attended all his races and he supported you in all your academic achievements. And oblivious to you, somewhere along the road you had also become as lovesick as he was.

Toto didn't really realise how fed up he was. He didn't want to interfere. In fact, he wanted things between the both of you to happen naturally. But he just had happen to watch the entire hour and forty-five minutes of 'Set It Up' over your shoulder instead of doing his work and he just had to do something... hell, anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━

First things first... Toto couldn't put the both of you in an elevator. At least not yet. You knew each other while the two bosses in 'Set It Up' didn't, so it didn't make much sense. You probably would never even get to the topic of your feelings. Not without a physical icebreaker of sorts.

Toto needed someone and George Russell just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"George, my boy!" Toto chorused, beckoning the British driver towards him. He slung his arm over George's shoulder, bringing him closer to him. "Do you mind doing me a favour?"

George nodded without too much thought. "Yeah sure. What is it?"

"If you see Mick and Y/N go towards an elevator, stop them and tell Y/N that a guy asked for her number, uh, who was that footballer... ah yes, João Félix, him... he did ask her yesterday right?" Toto looked over at George.

"Uh, yeah. Before you dragged her away... listen, Toto, I'm not sure I can do what you asking me to. I thought none of us were going to mess with whatever's going on between them?"

"You're young, George. One day you'll realise what 'desperate times calls for desperate measures' means. So..." Toto trailed off, eagerly looking for an answer before spotting the hesitant expression on the British driver's face. "Can I pay you do the favour?"

George blankly looked at his boss. "I'm on your payroll, Toto. You already pay me. That also sounds like extortion and bribery."

Toto's eye twitched as an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. He stared at George heavily before giving in. "Fine. You'll be out before Lewis for this week's quali."

The corner of George's mouth teetered up, working to a small grin. "Extortion and bribery... it sounds cool," He said with a nonchalant shrug.

Toto shook his head to himself. "You can try and be less British, George. Just because your ancestors colonised doesn't mean you need to take the same behaviour," He patted his shoulder before leaving, feeling George's confused expression bore into the back of his head.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Toto was a great man. But today was one of those days where George really did question him. Part of him was praying that he didn't see you and Mick head to an elevator. The scenario was so specific that well... the probability was low.

There was no way he was going to see it happen. Not even 30 minutes after he had this conversation and he had just grabbed a coffee and was now heading to Alex...

But the peak of that blonde hair and the familiar shine of your signature glasses caught George's eye. Christ.

"How is that possible?" He muttered to himself, eyeing the both of you as you waited for the elevator to go up the Mercedes' motorhome.

First in quali. Come on, George. You got this!

"Hey guys," George greeted the both of you.

You and Mick turned to him and smiled. "Hey George. How's it going? Ready for practice?"

George nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, yeah. Good, thanks. Uh, I was just wondering about yesterday... João? Since Toto dragged you away before you could do anything but he was just wondering if you would still consider giving him your number."

George pressed his lips, seeing Mick's eyes narrow from his peripheral vision. God how had the both of you not gotten together yet?

"I didn't know João asked you that?" Mick looked at you with questioning eyes.

You blinked, feeling your heart skip a beat slightly. You weren't sure why Mick's interest was to intriguing to you all of a sudden. You pursed your lips, looking to George. "Oh? I didn't know you knew João like that."

"I... don't. It's... Kika! Kika knows him... you know... Portugal things," He laughed awkwardly, giving a helpless shrug.

"Right..." You nodded slowly. "Uh, I don't know. I mean was considering it, I guess."

"You were?" George and Mick spluttered out in unison.

Your eyes widened at their reaction. "I mean, yeah... kinda?" You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

George could see the German driver's head racing a hundred miles per hour. It was time to get out of this mess.

"Okay, well, if you consider it, you could probably DM him on Instagram. Don't ask Kika!" George quickly said. "I mean... you know, she gets very excited to play cupid... anyways, I have to get back to Dudley, but let me know how it goes!"

You and Mick waved goodbye, heading onto the elevator after what felt like forever.

As the doors closed, you looked over at your thought-consumed best friend. "Penny for your thoughts, Mr Schumacher?" You humoured.

Mick briefly smiled before returning to his brooding state. He folded his arms, leaned on the wall of the elevator and stared at you.

Your mouth felt dry and yet you were drowning in your own saliva. There were certain things that weren't healthy for humans: too much sugar, high cholesterol foods, and apparently air-drying your hair. And then there was too much Mick.

The folded arms and his stupid shirt brought your eyes to the muscles you had so desperately been avoiding after Mick had started to work out even more in the past year.

You cleared your throat, trying to think of another topic of discussion.

In your pondering, Mick opened his mouth. "I don't think you should give João your number," He said, bringing his hands to his side, discreetly allowing the fabric of his shorts to soak up his clammy hands.

Your eyes flickered towards his face. You raised brow. "What? Why?" You asked, feeling an uneasy ache gnaw at your chest.

"I..." Mick started, "I mean what if he's a bad guy? You know... I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Your heart dropped. You felt like an deflating balloon: all blown up, only to be taken down. You mustered a soft smile. "I mean, you can't protect me forever Mick. What are you going to do? Vet the guy on the day of my wedding," You joked.

Mick frowned at your response. The image of you marrying someone that wasn't him was disheartening.

"I won't need to if you get married to someone you know," He shrugged. "You don't know João. You know me."

Oh?

Oh.

You almost did a double-take on your best friend. Did he know what words were falling from his lips. "So what? He's kinda cute. And a five-star FIFA player. I could take the risk. And eventually, I would know him... since that's how relationships work... communication and all," You defended the footballer.

Mick stared at you for a few seconds before blinking out of his short trance. "Right..." He said sharply, pushing himself off of the wall as the elevator opened. He struck out his arm, holding back the door. "You go on. I just remembered I need to talk to Toto."

You flickered your eyes to Mick, trying to read his face. "That's fine, we can go togeth–"

"No," Mick interjected, "it's... it's okay."

Upon the slight widening of your eyes and the startled expression lingering on your face, Mick's innate action was to internally wince. "I'll join you soon. Don't worry. I bring your favourite pastry on the way back, hmm?"

You nodded silently, taking a step out of the elevator and headed towards the lounge with a troubled feeling nagging at your head.

Had you struck a nerve?

━━━━━━━━━━━

Toto couldn't tell what he had done wrong. You and Mick were fine this morning. But after he had told George to push things along between the both of you, a sense of distance radiated off of you.

And George still got out before Lewis for the first quali. Goddamn it.

When Toto raised an eyebrow at you after Mick had slightly brushed you off to talk to Bono, you simply shrugged helplessly.

That night Toto did not get a wink of sleep. Instead, he stared at this hotel ceiling with a twitching eye.

There was nothing he couldn't fix. Whatever was going on between you and Mick right now was just a small bump in the road.

The solution?

A baseball game.

Unfortunately for Toto, baseball wasn't that popular in Brazil. But that didn't mean they didn't do them.

The plan was going perfectly. Toto had offered a 'family day' and gotten you and Mick to join him and Susie to attend a local baseball match between some of university teams. Toto made sure you and Mick were sitting behind him so you had all the privacy you needed. As a dad, he shouldn't be that happy about kiss-cam, let alone bribing the camera operators with the help of Pierre and Kika. But he wanted peace and he was going to get it.

But nothing was easy in life. And Toto could not have predicted this in a million years.

As everyone waited for the game to start, Toto timidly turned his head. He caught the brown eyes of the five-star FIFA player. Giving him a hesitant smile, he averted his own eyes back to the field, cursing himself under his breath. "Scheiße," He muttered through his clenched teeth. Shit.

The tension in the air was thick, to say the least. You sat between João and Mick with blank expression.

João, who was in town for the F1 race, decided to stay back to support a friend in the match. Obviously.

When the footballer on your right extended his hand to Mick, you sucked in a sharp breath. You heavily eyed the firmest handshake you had seen in your life. Letting out a nervous laugh, you sat down before the gesture turned into hardcore glaring.

Still, there was the hope of this kiss-cam.

Toto waited with little patience, hearing João crack jokes in Portuguese that actually made you laugh while Mick took deeper breaths.

It felt like life itself had been poured into Toto once the kiss-cam started on the public. This mattered to him more than whoever was going to win this match.

Toto's face dropped as the camera fell on you.

Your mother pointed at the camera with a gleeful exclamation. Your eyes moved to the screen, widening when you saw yourself and the man next to you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Toto exasperated quietly.

You turned your head to the right, meeting the equally shocked brown eyes.

"In what way does he look like 'a blonde boy with the face of the greatest racer in F1 history'?" Toto said into his hands, shaking his head slowly.

Mick looked blankly at you and João on the screen before turning to you. He watched you shake your head softly, smiling awkwardly at the camera as the crowd urged you to kiss.

"Oh mein Gott," You murmured to yourself, eyes darting around in panic. Oh my God.

Suddenly, you felt Mick lean in, his fingers sliding under your chin and resting on your cheek. He turned your head slightly towards him.

Your eyes widened upon meeting his baby blues, feeling unnerving giddiness swarm you. You hoped your face screamed, "What are you doing?!"

All Mick did give a small smile, bringing his lips towards you.

Instinctively, your eyes closed, bracing yourself whatever was about to happen. All you could hope for was that this was all a dream of some sort. Maybe you fell asleep in the car?

You skin flushed at the feel of Mick's soft lips on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling him linger for a second longer before pulling back.

What on earth?

You weren't sure if you were breathing as you felt his hand move to your leg, covering your hand and giving it a small squeeze. You moved your eyes to the screen. Mick looked unbothered while the crowd erupted in cheers and boos. You, on the other hand, looked flushed.

And Toto?

The urge to run around with his hands flailing in the air was strong.

This was a home run, for crying out loud!

Whoever said jealousy was a disease... thank you!

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Liebling, du solltest jetzt rauskommen," Your mother said to you through the bathroom stall you had been hiding in for the past five minutes. Darling, you should come out now.

You winced as you banged your head against the wall of the stall. You sighed. "I don't think I can. Do you think you can convince the staff the bring a bed? Maybe some food?"

Your mother snorted. "What are you going to do? Live here?"

"Ja. War das nicht offensichtlich?" You retorted, eyes screwing themselves shut after replaying the kiss in your head for the umpteenth time. Yes. Was that not obvious?

Susie sighed, awkwardly smiling at a woman leaving the bathroom. "Y/N... it's Mick. You can't ignore him forever. How long do you think it will truly take for Mick and your father to storm in here after not seeing you for so long?"

You sighed at your mother's response. She was. As always.

The last thing you needed was a headline on ESPN: Toto Wolff and Mick Schumacher caught barging into a women's bathroom.

Christian would have a field day!

You shuddered at the thought.

Susie's ears perked up at your grumble as you fumbled with the lock of the stall. She sported an amused smile at the blank look you gave her.

Slinging an arm around you, she rubbed your shoulder. "Come on, liebling. You got this."

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh thank God!" Toto exclaimed after seeing you and your mother come out of the bathroom. "You took forever!"

You narrowed your eyes at your father, avoiding the lingering eyes of a certain German boy. "Maybe next time you shouldn't feed me a hotdog at a baseball game, right?" You pressed with a raised brow.

"Hmm?" Toto mended his brows before nodding profusely. "Right! Right! Yes... that was my bad. Poor thing... you know, Mick, with Y/N being sick and all, I think you should drop her to the hotel. Me and Susie still have a date to go on!"

You and your mother looked at Toto increduolously.

"We do?"

"You do?"

Toto nodded, grabbing your mother's hand. "Yes! Okay, see you two! Tschüss!" Bye!

With a jaw-dropping expression, you watched your parents leave with a twitching eye.

You heard Mick clear his throat.

Slowly, you turned around with a small smile. Fiddling with your fingers, "So..."

Mick rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a small tinge of pink dancing across his cheeks. "The hotel?" He asked, swinging his keys around the his index finger.

Silently, you both walked out of the stadium and towards the car park.

You furrowed your brows upon seeing the orange and pink laden sky. "What the heck? How is the sun already setting?"

"I mean... you were in there for a long time," Mick shrugged.

The crisp summer evening breeze glided past your flushed skin. Your body winced at the paining silence ensuing between the both of you. You let out a small exhale. "Uh, with the thing before–"

"Yeah?" Mick eagerly turned his body towards you, on edge.

You cleared your throat at the anxious expression Mick sported. "You sighed. "Uh, that was to like... save me, right? Aus Verlegenheit? Danke für das." From embarrassment? Thank you for that.

Mick mended his eyebrows. "Verlegenheit? No. I... that was so you didn't kiss João."

You laughed nervously. "Right! So I didn't have to kiss João."

"No. So you didn't kiss João. There's a difference," Mick pointed out, eyeing your expression carefully.

Your eyes widened at his suddenly soft gaze. You looked up at the sky, hoping the breeze would cool the wave of warmth swirling around you. "That's... that's what I said," You shrugged.

Mick stepped in front of you, forcing you to look at him instead of the sky. "Why do you do that?" Mick asked.

"Do what?" You responded.

"I mean... I–just why do you have such a hard time admitting that I like you?"

You wish you had something to say. Anything. But it was as if the ability to speak had been seized from your throat entirely.

"I mean I know I don't make it obvious. I just thought we had some sort of understanding... you know... the one without words?"

You looked up into his hopeful eyes. Entranced, you leaned in towards him. Your fingers danced across his cheek just the way he had done not so long ago. You watched his eyes close at the feel of your touch, making your heart thud against your chest.

Inching closer, your thumb gently swiped over his lips, feeling his faltering exhale warm the pad of your thumb. "So pretty," You whispered to yourself, eyeing his face.

Mick wasn't sure whether you were talking about him or his lips but he didn't care.

You shuddered, feeling Mick's hand slide around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

Without waiting a second longer, you pressed your lips to his.

Mick's lips were softer than you had imagined, warm to the touch. Your stomach churned upon feeling his fingers skate under the hem of your shirt, rubbing tingling circles on your hot skin.

You hear an unrecognisable breathy gasp fall from your lips. The hair on your body stood straight as goosebumps littered your skin. All because of Mick.

Mick took advantage of the moment, darting his tongue to explore your mouth. He groaned against your lips, pushing your hips even closer to him, feeling the hard outline of his bulge rub against your pelvis.

Fuck.

You were going to combust at this rate.

Mick trembled in your grasp as your hands wandered his taut torso, lingering closely to his v-line.

He pulled away with an indescribable urgency, staring at you with small pants falling from his lips. He held your face with his hand, thumb gliding across your swollen lips. "We can't–" He sighed out, voice hoarse, "No more. Please."

Your thighs clenched at his plea, eyes falling down to his prominent bulge. You were sure he was in a lot of pain right now. The sexual tension between you to had been pent up for years now.

Your tongue darted out, swiping over his thumb briefly before faintly sucking on it. You looked up at Mick. "You're right, we shouldn't," You nonchalantly told him.

Mick's blue eyes danced with a tortured pain, following your tongue carefully. "We... fuck, Y/N," He complained, feeling impossibly tight in his pants.

"We fuck? Direct much?" You teased, removing your lips from his thumb.

Mick stared at you, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "I was saying... we should do this properly. Not in some parking lot."

"Why not? Car sex is hot. Just imagine!" You urged, amused by the conflict in Mick's eyes.

Imagine he did.

You and him in his God forbidden Mercedes... him making sure every inch of his car was stained with you...

Mick sucked in a sharp breath. "Nope. Come on. Hotel."

You gasped humorously. "In a hotel? Mick Schumacher! Well I never!"

Before you knew it, Mick had whisked you into his arms and into his car, hoping he was not breaking Brazil's speed limits tonight.

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher #formula 1

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