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highvern · 4 months

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Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them.

So you go as late as possible.

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone.

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial.

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.”

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch.

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back.

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is.

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat?

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week.

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips.

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit.

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt.

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.”

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.”

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s.

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up.

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this.

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.”

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?”

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold.

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck.

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth.

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.”

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager.

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half.

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case.

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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dragon-huntress · 1 year

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I think the gains life may not be for me

#said on day 2 so I’m being dramatic but help #I’m supposed to eat 4 500cal meals a day and drink an expensive ass protein powder #and my body is not used to this #I need to force myself to finish dinner number 1 so I can eat dinner number 2 in TWO HOURS #HELP MEEEEEE I AM GOING TO DIE #at least the powder isn’t as bad as he said it was god bless #he being my personal trainer bc I now have a personal trainer like a fucking crazy person #it is bc I really want to not look uhhhhh skeletal and know Jack fuck abt fitness #just in general I went to the gym got on the treadmill. looked at the other ppl doing things whilst on said treadmill #and after 35 mins had no fucking clue where to even start next #also am not allowed to do cardio so rip zombies run even tho I had just redownloaded it

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miclipse · 2 months

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ YOUR ROMAN EMPIRE.

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, michael kaiser (separate).

sypnosis: things he did that you often think about.

word count: 5.3k (~1.0k each)

cw: afab! reader, sfw, established relationships, nicknames used (baby, gorgeous, meine liebe, good girl, pretty girl), pre-wildcard! kunigami, mentions of period (rin's), kaiser being a smug bastard & also soft.

note: first time writing for the blue lock boys <3 comments appreciated!

ᯓ★ isagi yoichi ᝰ.ᐟ

“does it still hurt alot, baby?”

isagi, who was kneeled in front of you as you sat on the couch, continued pressing the ice pack against your swollen ankle.

his other hand was supporting the heel of your foot as he gently rotated it in circular motions to help ease the pain in the muscles.

your boyfriend lifted his head up to take a look at your expression, worried that the pain of your sprained ankle might be too unbearable for you if he didn't handle it carefully enough.

“a little… but it's getting better…” you mumbled out softly, feeling increasingly guilty the longer you watched isagi kneel in front of you and tend to what you could only call the consequences of your own actions.

“we have a treadmill at home for a reason. why'd you insist on taking a run outside when the ground was still all slippery and wet?” isagi's voice was soft and gentle, soothing the guilt in your heart slightly.

you thought isagi would've gotten mad at you, but he was still as loving and worried for you as ever despite all of this being your own fault.

it had rained earlier this morning, which isagi had already warned you about via text since he was away for his usual soccer practice.

but stubborn little you insisted that the rain would not interfere with your routine evening jog. you figured the damp floors would have dried up by the time you stepped out of the house.

oh, how very wrong you were.

in your defence, majority of the jog went smoothly. the problem only arose when you were about to make the final turn back to the familiar stretch of road that would lead back to your and isagi's shared apartment.

for some reason while you were turning the corner, your foot slipped. as an attempt to catch yourself before you fell face first into the cold hard concrete, your ankle twisted and ended up in an uncomfortable position.

you had to bite your tongue to hold yourself back from screaming due to the sudden sharp and piercing pain coming from your ankle.

when you finally managed to limp your way back to your front porch, you figured you could simply just eat some painkillers and sleep off the pain before your boyfriend got back from training.

but to your absolute horror and misfortune, the moment you opened the front door, you caught sight of your beloved boyfriend walking out from the kitchen with a cup of water in his hand.

the moment isagi saw you limping back through the front door in your sports attire, he immediately placed his cup on the kitchen island and rushed to your side to support you as he brought you to the couch to sit down.

“yeah, well… i thought the ground would've mostly dried up by the time i went out for my jog.” you gave isagi a sheepish and apologetic smile.

“well too bad, you thought wrong. and now look who's the one with a sprained ankle, hmm?” isagi continued to tease you with a soft chuckle, finally removing the ice pack from your inflamed ankle and placing the melted bag of gel down on the carpet.

“so? think you can stand up and walk on your own now?” isagi asked, lightly tracing circles on the bottom of your foot, leaving behind a ticklish sensation that got your foot to twitch and squirm in response.

seeing how your foot was flinching away from isagi's gentle touches, he merely smirked in amusement.

“not really, no.” you laughed, happy to keep things light-hearted despite the fact that you probably wouldn't be able to walk without support for the next few days.

but fret not. isagi was here to be your knight in shining armour, like how he always had been ever since you both started dating.

“do i need to push you around in a wheelchair like those elderly couples?” isagi joked, scooting himself closer to the side of the couch to get closer to you whilst he was still squatting down on the ground.

“well yeah, obviously. you don't expect me to roll around on the floor, do you?” you playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics, watching as he reached out to grasp your hand in his.

his thumb traced small, comforting circles on the back of your hand, making you sigh out in satisfaction at how lucky you were to have isagi yoichi as your boyfriend.

a smile graced his lips. not the kind of smile he had whenever he scored a goal, or the kind of smile he gave to his teammates and friends. it was a smile that was solely reserved only for you.

isagi reached his other hand out to caress your cheek, lightly pinching it as a way to show his absolute affection and devotion towards you.

“don't worry. i’ll be the one to push your wheelchair. be it right now, or 60 years down the road.”

you never knew the words that left his lips would take you back to the days where you were falling head over heels for isagi yoichi all over again, but it did.

it had been months since you last felt your heart beat so rapidly against your chest and that queasy feeling of butterflies in your tummy.

those words may seem simple at first glance, but when you analyze it beneath the surface level, it held so much more meaning.

isagi was making a vow to you, promising to stay by your side through thick and thin. even when your youth was nothing but a distant memory, he would still choose you.

he wanted to spend his entire life with you, even if it meant he would have to be pushing your wheelchair around when you were all old and wrinkly.

those words were isagi's true feelings for you,

and they have never left your mind ever since the day he said them to you. not that isagi would ever give you a chance to forget about them in the first place.

ᯓ★ bachira meguru ᝰ.ᐟ

“i’ve cut up some fruit!”

your boyfriend’s lively voice from the kitchen reached your ears as you sat in the living room couch, busily typing away on your laptop.

you resisted the urge to turn away from your laptop screen to reply to your boyfriend, instead choosing to continue typing away on your essay that was due today.

seeing as you did not reply, bachira held the bowl of fruits in his hand as he made his way towards you, who was so diligently working on your assignments.

“do you want some?” the happy boy leaned his face right in front of yours with a cheeky grin, knowing that his actions would get a reaction out of you, who had been ignoring him the past few hours or so.

and rightfully so— you knew better than anyone that if you were to shower bachira with even an ounce of affection, you would never be able to direct your focus back on the task at hand.

“mmm… i’ll eat it later. you can munch on some first.” you suggested absentmindedly, gently using your hand to push bachira’s face away out of your view so that you could focus on the half finished word document displayed on your laptop screen.

well, that did not work according to bachira’s plan.

seeing how you had been paying all your attention on your laptop for the past few hours made bachira a little (very) attention-starved. dating him was equivalent to having a golden retriever as a pet; both of them were very high maintenance beings.

bachira pouted at your dismissive attitude right now, but he understood that you really needed to finish this assignment before the clock struck midnight.

however, as unfortunate as it sounded, today was also one of the rare days where bachira’s training ended early and he was able to spend some proper quality time with you.

bachira let out a dissatisfied hum, the pout still on his lips as he contemplated what to do in order to achieve the goal of the day.

which was to gain your attention.

he looked back down into the fruit bowl he had prepared for the both of you to share, and it did not take long for the pout of his to turn into a mischievous smirk.

it took you a few moments longer than usual to realise bachira had fallen awfully silent. normally, he would not even give you an ounce of quiet, rambling on and on about anything and everything he could talk about to fill in the silence. yet you hadn’t heard him say anything after you told him to eat first.

it was your fault for not figuring out soon enough that whenever bachira fell silent, he was plotting something in his head.

because before you could even save the progress of your half-written essay to turn and look at your boyfriend, a piece of watermelon poked into a metal fork entered your line of sight, successfully enticing you.

blinking in surprise, you instinctively turned your head to look at the culprit with a raised eyebrow.

“meguru-”

“say ‘ahh’!” bachira knew you all too well, and so he cut you off before you could question what he was trying to do. “you do your report, and i feed you. how does that sound, gorgeous?” bachira added, nearing the fork of watermelon closer to your lips.

he gave you no chance to decline his offer, if you could even count it as that.

“...ahh…” eventually giving in to your boyfriend, you slowly parted your lips and took the watermelon in between your teeth, chewing down on the juicy fruit.

“how is it? does it taste sweet?” bachira asked with a wide and bright smile, wiping the watermelon juice that splattered on the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb.

you tried to hide how fast your heart was beating at the simple gesture. but seeing as how bachira started grinning from ear to ear, it didn't take a genius to know that he already noticed your rosy red cheeks.

“tastes yummy.” you remarked with a soft chuckle, turning your attention back to your laptop and typing away on your report. you were trying your best to ignore the loud thumping in your chest.

normally, bachira would have been more clingy and persistent about you paying attention to him, but today he acknowledged that this report was very important to you and played a huge part in your final grade.

thus, he chose to obediently sit by your side for moral support and feed you fruit as you worked away on finishing up your essay.

“mmm, you’re right, it is yummy!” your boyfriend agreed, popping a slice of watermelon in his mouth and chewing down on it. he kept this up, feeding you a piece of fruit and gently wiping away the juice on the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb before he fed himself a piece of fruit.

after a few minutes, it had finally come down to the very last slice of apple. bachira poked the apple with the metal fork, obviously planning to give you the last fruit in the bowl.

however, bachira’s mind was ever-functioning, and he managed to come up with yet another cheeky plan to surprise you.

“mind looking over for a second, gorgeous?” he called out to you with an innocent smile, waiting for you to stumble into his little trap.

“hmm? hold on.” you quickly typed out the last few words to finish up the sentence in your paragraph before finally turning to look at your boyfriend.

“yeah–?”

in a blink of an eye, bachira placed one end of the apple on your lips before placing the other end of the apple on his lips.

“what is this? the pocky challenge but with apples?” you joked, deciding to play along with bachira’s antics this time. you had ignored him for long enough, he deserved to get some affection from you. especially since he had been doing nothing but quietly sitting by your side and feeding you fruits.

“it’s a reward for working so hard.” bachira then took a big bite of the apple from his end. you followed suit until there was only a tiny chunk separating both your lips from each other.

“may i?” his whisper sounded almost pleading— he had restrained himself from clinging onto you as you worked on your assignment. but now that you were finally giving him your full attention, the boy was yearning for more.

“you may.” you reassured with a slight nod of your head, encouraging bachira to make the final move.

in which he did, biting down the last chunk of the apple before pressing his lips against yours.

it felt wonderful to have your lips moulded against his after being deprived from his affections for so long due to focusing on your essay. you chucked your laptop to the side of the couch, your arms snaking around his waist to make the kiss last longer.

perhaps a small break wouldn’t hurt...

ᯓ★ kunigami rensuke ᝰ.ᐟ

“oooh, what's going on there?”

the curiosity in you was building up when you noticed a crowd gathering just a distance away from the pathway kunigami and yourself were walking on.

as you pointed your index finger towards the crowd, kunigami turned his head to look in that direction before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“wanna go check it out?” he offered with a soft smile on his lips. you both had nothing important going on right now anyways. the two of you were just walking around the streets aimlessly and doing some window shopping to pass some time before you both would head for dinner.

“yeah!”

the way you chirped out happily in response, your eyes sparkling with excitement made kunigami's heart tighten with a certain fondness he couldn't exactly put into words.

before kunigami knew it, you were dragging him towards the crowd of people to see what all the commotion was about.

when the two of you were close enough, kunigami easily saw past the sea of crowd and his eyes eventually landed on a stage that was being setup with speakers and instruments, along with what seemed to be an amateur band preparing to perform.

“seems like it's a band performance. you interested to watch?” kunigami asked you. he had to raise his voice a little to beat the crowd’s volume, his eyes trailing back to look down at you.

oh.

your boyfriend was met with the sight of you standing on your tippy toes doing little subtle hops on the spot, trying to move your neck around to glance past the back of everyone’s heads, but unfortunately to no avail. you two were considered to be rather far back in the crowd, and everyone had a height advantage against you too.

sometimes kunigami would forget how short you were, or rather how tall he was as compared to you. things that he could easily do such as watching a performance at the back of a crowd was deemed as a challenge for his tiny and petite girlfriend.

kunigami was having an internal conflict with his inner voice on whether he should just push through the crowd so the both of you could make it to the very front of the stage (but also proceed to have a bunch of people glare at the two of you throughout the whole performance).

kunigami was the number one fan of everything being fair and square. and as much as he found the situation unfair for you, he also understood that it would be unfair to literally everyone else if he just rudely pushed through the crowd to get to the very front solely for your sake.

it wasn’t that kunigami would not do anything for you, he would give up anything and everything for you. but in situations like these where the universe was giving him a test on whether he should side with his morals or your happiness, he found himself stuck in the middle.

eventually, you turned to look up at your boyfriend, your soft lips jutting out to form a pout.

“rensuke, i can't see.” that sweet voice of yours would've sent kunigami into a deep trance if he was a weak-willed man.

the man pursed his lips together, desperately digging his brain for any ideas on how to ensure you got to see the performance without making the rest of the audience mad.

then, it was like something clicked in his head. like as if a tiny mouse living in his noggin just attached the two correct wires together and allowed kunigami’s brain to come up with the perfect solution that will make you happy and stick to his morals of ensuring everything was fair and square.

moving his hand down to ruffle your hair affectionately, kunigami then proceeded to crouch down in front of you, his back now facing towards you.

the action made you stunned into place, staring at kunigami’s toned back in disbelief and confusion. “rensuke?” you called out, prompting him to provide some sort of explanation for his action.

“i’ll piggyback you. that way, you'll be able to see the performance, right?” kunigami asked, trying his very hardest to sound as calm as he could. he would die if you saw through just how flustered he was feeling at the moment.

kunigami was often deemed as a scary delinquent due to his built figure in addition to his height being a whopping 6’2, but only a rare few properly understood that he was nothing but a life-sized teddy bear.

and you were the only one that would ever get this special treatment from him.

when kunigami felt your plush thighs press against his neck and shoulders, he grabbed onto your lower calves to ensure you were steady on his back before he slowly stood up to his full height again.

“can you see the stage?” kunigami asked you with a small smile on his face. he could feel many pairs of eyes looking towards the two of you, but he couldn't blame them. he was the only one among the crowd that was carrying a girl on his shoulders.

although you were not used to the stares accompanied by a couple of girls gushing over how cute your boyfriend was to be openly carrying his girlfriend on his shoulders, you were filled with a sense of pride when hearing people whisper about what a good boyfriend kunigami was.

“i can see the world.” you joked, but you sounded amazed by the view. it was your first time getting such a clear view of everything you desired like it was a piece of cake.

“is this how it feels to view the world through your eyes, rensuke?” a soft giggle slipped through those soft lips of yours as you hugged your legs tighter around his neck to ensure that you would not fall off (but also making sure not to accidentally suffocate him in the process too).

“perhaps. but i wish you could see what i see whenever i look at you.” kunigami responded with a playful grin.

your heart skipped a beat at his words, suddenly feeling all giddy and floaty on the inside.

oh, how lucky you were to call this man yours.

ᯓ★ itoshi rin ᝰ.ᐟ

the familiar sound of the front door being opened was accompanied by your boyfriend's monotonous voice.

the words that escaped his mouth seemed habitual and subconscious, and you wouldn't doubt that he would still say the same exact thing even if you weren't around to receive his greeting.

“i'm home.”

you immediately sat up from the couch with a smile, turning to glance at your boyfriend so that you could return his greeting.

“welcome home, rin!” your enthusiastic response was something rin could never dream of getting tired of. no matter how many times this scene unfolded in front of him, it never failed to warm that stone-cold heart of his.

it just seemed to fulfill that hidden desire of his to finally feel loved and be appreciated by someone.

but of course, he would rather take this little secret of his down to the grave with him than ever letting you know about it.

“thanks.” rin responded, trying to seem nonchalant about your response. he had barely given a reaction to it for the past year, so why should he now?

“oh, what's that? did someone give you a gift for winning your game today?” rin used the back of his foot to gently kick the door shut behind him as you spoke, pointing at the basket in his hands out of curiosity.

“no, i bought these.” rin rolled his eyes at you. what made you think he would be accepting gifts from anyone other than his girlfriend? he wasn't that much of a sucker for attention from other girls.

before you could follow up with a second question on what was in the basket that looked to be stuffed to the brim with items, rin walked towards you and shoved the basket right in your face.

looking at rin with a raised eyebrow, you held the basket with both your hands and took a look in it, wondering what could rin possibly have bought for the basket to be looking so full yet barely having any weight to it.

inside, there were tampons and pads arranged neatly on the left side of the basket. it was plenty to last you for the next three to four months or so. and the right side was stuffed to the brim with chocolates and sweets that you remembered mentioning to rin about them being your favourite.

and if that wasn't jaw dropping enough, there was also a cute little teddy bear in the basket, staring right back at you with its cute little beady eyes and a cartoon smile.

“you're going to attract flies into your mouth. close up.” rin commented, scoffing in amusement at your reaction to his small gesture. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to remain as indifferent as he could.

but if you took a closer look at him, you would realise that the tips of his ears held a faint red hue to them.

“but rin… what's this for? my period isn't even here yet.” you looked up at him with your stupidly wide eyes that could compare to a puppy's. seriously, sometimes rin wondered how you looked more like a dog than a human.

“yeah, but it's in two days, is it not?” that was a rhetorical question.

it wasn't that rin was genuinely asking whether your period was coming in two days, he knew. he was just telling you in a way that would make him feel like he held the upper hand against you, especially when it came to your own body.

he just wanted to challenge you to prove him wrong, as he always did. his confidence was always sky high— but rightfully so (in his opinion).

you blinked in surprise, grabbing your phone and unlocking it to check your period tracker. you had been losing track of time due to how busy you were that you hadn't even realised that rin was right. your period was coming in two days.

“how'd you know that?” you asked him back, seeming shocked that rin bothered to remember your monthly shark week. you were convinced he barely cared about dates that were not as important to him like anniversaries and your birthday.

“you think you're the only one with a period tracker app? i have it too.” rin answered, sounding as calm and nonchalant as he always did.

come on, it wouldn't hurt for him to show even an ounce of emotion. it was already so painfully obvious how much he loved and cared for you, it wouldn't bring any harm to be nice to you every now and then, would it?

“you're such a creep.” you tried to tease him in a serious tone, biting back the smile that threatened to show on your face. you were trying to get him to show his rare soft side.

but rin was one step ahead of you. he knew you better than the back of his hand, and he didn't hesitate to tease you back.

“i’ll take it as you don't want my gift then. might as well give it to another girl who'll appreciate it more than this ungrateful brat.” as if to entice even more of a reaction out of you, rin slowly edged his hand closer to the basket, threatening to take it away from you.

“what?! no! don't you dare!” you gasped, immediately hugging the basket protectively like it was your newborn baby.

that was exactly the reaction rin wanted out of you.

his cold facade was unable to further resist your cuteness and started to crumbled as a faint smirk ghosted his lips.

his hand that was once edging towards your basket (technically his, since he was the one that paid for everything) moved towards the top of your head to ruffle your hair.

silence filled the room, and you looked up at rin patiently with an anticipating smile on your face, waiting for him to finally say the words he had been holding back all this while.

“ i... i love you.” he eventually whispered out with a defeated sigh, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “don't ever forget that, ‘kay?”

rin knew he was bad at expressing his emotions. but he wanted to make sure to remind you from time to time that his feelings for you would never change. not now, not ever.

ᯓ★ michael kaiser ᝰ.ᐟ

“come.” kaiser patted his lap, a coy smirk on his lips as his sapphire eyes observed your figure standing by the bedroom door, not moving despite his command. “hurry up meine liebe, i don't have all day.”

those words were what finally made you obediently walk towards where kaiser was seated at; the chair just by the vanity table you both shared.

he rested his hand on the vanity table, rhythmically drumming his index finger on the surface of the table as his eyes remained fixated on you.

kaiser was a bold individual, and it was something you both hated and loved simultaneously.

he never tried to hide the fact how his eyes were always lingering on your body, staring at you like you were the next prey he wanted to devour.

even now, he watched intensely as your hips swayed from side to side while you walked across the bedroom to make your way towards him.

it was almost like you were strutting into the lion's den, volunteering to be his next meal.

and even as you finally lowered your hips and straddled his lap, kaiser didn't look away from you for even a second, the smirk on his face only growing more smug and cocky.

“you’re so cute, i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose to seduce me or not.” kaiser couldn't help but tease you, noting how your cheeks were rosy and the way you were trying to avoid his intense stare.

“quit it, mihya. didn't you say you were in a hurry?” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. it left you all weak and flustered, and you knew that kaiser took pleasure in seeing how he had the upper hand against you everytime.

you were nothing but a little mouse the lion planned to toy with for amusement before he eventually wolfed you down in his stomach.

“the emperor chooses his next move.” kaiser pointed his index finger at your cheek, slowly inching closer before gently giving you a little poke. “not you.”

despite his words, kaiser moved his hand away from your face to stop messing with you as he was not lying about being short of time.

his hand felt around the vanity table, before coming into contact with just the object he needed.

using his free arm to wrap around your waist to keep you steady in his lap, kaiser brought the eyeliner pen to his lips, using his teeth to bite the cover off before securing it on the back of the pen.

“be a good girl and sit still for me, hmm? i don't have time to redo it if you make me mess up.” typical of kaiser to push the blame onto you if he messed up. he was an egoist, thus his mistakes were never his. it was always someone else's.

he kept his hand steady as he moved the eyeliner closer to your face. once the tip of the red tinted pen was close enough to your skin, you closed your eyes so that kaiser could have an easier time applying it on you.

“you're so adorable for wanting to match with me, you know that meine liebe?” kaiser chuckled, using short and gentle strokes to draw the eyeliner onto your eyelids, just like how he would to himself every morning before he started his day. “you'll look gorgeous once i’m done with you, i promise.”

the room fell into a comfortable after kaiser's reassurance, as kaiser decided to direct his full focus on helping you apply the eyeliner. he didn't want to risk messing up.

afterall, he wouldn't have time to help you redraw it due to him having to rush to practice right after this.

you could feel goosebumps surfacing on your skin when you felt kaiser's hot breath hit your cheek. no doubt that he was intentionally leaning in closer to you just so he could get a reaction out of you, as he always did.

you could picture it in your head: his head tilted in an angle, his eyes squinted in concentration while gently drawing on your eyelids. it felt so comforting that you felt like you could fall asleep on his lap, but you resisted the urge to do so.

the sensation of kaiser stroking the eyeliner against your eyelids stopped, before the sound of him popping the cap back on the pen was heard.

“open your eyes, pretty girl. we're all done.” kaiser placed the eyeliner back in the drawer, his other arm still securely keeping you on his lap by holding your waist.

when you opened your eyes, kaiser's face was just inches away from yours. your eyes widened slightly at how close he was to you, trying to remain your composure.

the cocky smirk on his lips proved that he did this on purpose to entice a reaction out of you. before you could resist, your boyfriend leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“take a look in the mirror, liebe. don't you just look so beautiful?” kaiser whispered huskily in your ear, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger and guiding your face to turn towards the mirror on the vanity table.

you took a closer look at the reflection in front of you. you, sitting intimately on kaiser's lap whilst he had an arm slung around your waist and the both of you having matching red eyeliners. it looked…

“perfect.” you whispered it out loud without realising.

“oh? what was that?” kaiser leaned his ear closer to your mouth, taunting you to speak up so that he could hear you say it again, but louder.

“i said it looks perfect.” you replied without hesitation, and kaiser seemed satisfied by your obedience today. it was always a nice sight whenever you played along with his annoying and teasing nature.

“and you're perfect for me, liebe.” your boyfriend moved his hand to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the fat of it. “you don't understand how grateful i am to have you by my side.”

and you could just about say the same thing about him.

2K notes · View notes

delusionalwriterr · 4 months

Text

Gym Buddy

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have a hard time keeping your eyes off of your gym crush.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: none

A/N: Shoutout to my gym girlies out there, this one's for you 🫵🏻

Masterlist

———

“What are we hitting today?” your friend asks you as you both enter the gym. You look over to the receptionist and greet him with a smile. Adjusting the gym bag on your shoulder, you turn to your friend and shrug.

“I was thinking legs?” you suggest as the two of you head to the locker area. You usually go to the gym alone, but today was thankfully one of the rare occasions your schedule aligned with your friend’s so you took this opportunity to invite her to the gym with you— something you used to do back when you were still in college.

Your friend nods in response before beginning to stuff her locker with the stuff she didn’t need, you mirroring her actions. “Quads, hams, glutes, or all of the above?” she chuckles, pulling out her shaker bottle and scooping in some pre-workout.

“I did quads last time, are you cool with hams and glutes?” you ask to which she nods again. “But you can do quads if you want.”

This time she shakes her head, “Nah, you know me. I can never say no to a good glute workout.” She turns to her side and nudges your hip with hers, drawing a chuckle from you.

You walk towards the workout area, your eyes scanning the room and immediately stopping by the benches. You feel your heart hammer in your chest as you watch him do bench presses— his chest puffing out and leaving no room for imagination thanks to the compression shirt he was wearing.

Bucky Barnes started going to your gym a few months ago, and to say you were shocked to see him there the first time was an understatement. Not that you were complaining though, but you practically fell off the treadmill you were using when you saw him walk in for the first time donning an oversized shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a baseball cap.

Safe to say that he is definitely your gym crush, and you would be lying when you say that you look forward to going to the gym just to see if he was there.

Your gaze stayed on him as your friend led you to the Smith machine. You glance at his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and mouth letting out huffs of breath as he raises the 100kg dumbells above him.

Goddamn.

Your attention is brought back to your friend as she begins loading the bar with a few weights to start your first exercise. You snap out of your daze and help her by loading up the other side before finally beginning.

Taking turns, the two of you did a few sets of back squats, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. You desperately tried not to look at Bucky for too long, afraid that your friend might notice or worse, you get caught by Bucky staring at him.

“Okay, what’s up? I feel like you left your brain back at home,” your friend joked as you took a break before starting your next exercise. You roll your eyes, taking a swig from your water bottle, ignoring her question.

Your eyes subconsciously trail to Bucky, once again. This time, he was hunching over the bench as he stared at his phone, chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Your friend follows your gaze and hums in realization.

“Ah, I see,” she pipes up with a smirk on her face, “you got hots for the Avenger.”

You laugh softly, turning back to her and shrugging your shoulders. “Guilty as charged.”

“Why don’t you go for it?” she pesters, causing you to rapidly shake your head. “No way, I’m scared he might just glare at me or something.”

She scoffs before beginning to look for other plates to load the smith machine. She looks around your area only to find none that would suffice for your next exercise. So she scans the gym in search of heavier plates only to find a stack of 25’s that were conveniently placed beside Bucky.

She smirks before trudging her way towards him despite your attempts to pull her back. “Come back here!” you whisper sharply, but ultimately give up once she reaches him.

You see her gently tap Bucky on the shoulder, prompting the super soldier to turn and face her. You feel your whole body tense and your face starts to heat up. You watch as your friend points to the stack of plates beside Bucky and you see him nod and begin to stand up.

Oh god, is he coming over here? You thought to yourself. Sure enough, you see your friend and Bucky each pick up a plate and head towards your direction. Your eyes briefly meet his, causing you to turn away and act busy by scrolling through your phone.

You feel your heartbeat quicken as you see them grow closer through your peripheral until they are standing right in front of the machine. “Thank you so much!” your friend smiles as they both load the weights onto the bar. “I would’ve asked my friend to help me out, but the pre-workout hasn’t kicked in for her, you know?” she jokes, earning a soft chuckle from Bucky and a glare from you.

“It’s no problem,” Bucky says, gaze shifting between the two of you, a shy smile on his lips. “Have a nice workout,” he adds, before heading back over to the benches.

Your friend turns to you, a wicked smile on her lips. “See? He won’t bite,” she chides, causing you to roll your eyes before heading to the machine to start RDLs. “Unless you’re into that sort of stuff,” she continues, earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

“I’m never working out with you again.”

—

The next few days were not as uneventful as you’d hoped. You thought by going to the gym alone like you usually do would mean that you’d have more time to just subtly watch Bucky from across the room without worrying about any friends that would force you to interact with him.

But just a few days after your initial interaction with Bucky, you were put in a situation where you had the chance to look at him up close once again.

You were doing tricep pushdowns on the cable machine when you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder, causing you to jump. You turn around to meet the pair of blue eyes you so desperately gazed at all the time.

You were frozen in your spot as you took in how attractive he looked in his compression shirt, arms bulging by the sleeves. You were snapped out of your daze when you realized he was talking to you. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked sheepishly, removing one of your earphones.

Bucky smiled shyly in return. “Are you using the other cable?” he asked, pointing at the machine next to you. You shook your head, heat rushing to your face upon the thought of him working out beside you. “No, go ahead.”

He smiled again before positioning himself beside you and starting his workout. You tried your best not to get distracted by the godly sight next to you, but you didn’t muster enough courage to talk to him after that.

The next time you talk was the week after that. You were doing a particularly heavy set of dumbbell shoulder presses (while keeping note of Bucky somewhere behind you doing bicep curls). It was already your third set, and you were aiming to push out 12 reps until you started to feel your weaker arm give out.

You braced your core harder as you pushed yourself to get the last rep in until you saw Bucky drop the dumbbells he was holding to rush behind you. “I got you,” he mumbled, lightly placing his hands just below your triceps to give you stability.

You tried to ignore your heart that was hammering in your chest as you were finally able to fully lift the dumbbells over your head. You moved to lower them to put them down, but Bucky suddenly wrapped his hands on your wrists. “All you, give me one more.”

Jesus Christ.

You pushed yourself one more time, ignoring the pain in your shoulders as you gave it your all. Once you finally put the dumbbells down, you turned to him. “Thanks,” you smiled, which Bucky returned.

“No problem,” he replied, but before you could say anything else, he was already walking back to his spot to continue his set. You were extra energized to workout that day.

Which brings you to a week after that. You were just stepping out of your car when you spot Bucky getting off his bike. You subtly watch as he took his helmet off, and revel in the way he tied his hair into a small bun by the nape of his neck.

God, you were down bad.

You were too busy trying not to drool and fail to notice that he was actually staring back at you. It wasn’t until he gave you a shy nod when you snap back to reality and return the gesture but throwing him a sheepish wave.

“What are you training today?” he calls out as he watches you take your gym bag from the trunk of your car and slung it on your shoulder. “Oh, I’m doing pull today. What about you?” you ask, silently hoping he was planning to do the same.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks which practically made your heart do backflips. Trying to hide your giddiness, you give him a short nod as you and him begin to make your way inside the gym.

You enter and greet a few familiar faces as Bucky follows suit before stopping in front of the lat pulldown machine. “Are you okay with starting with this?” you ask.

“What, no warm up?” Bucky asks in return, prompting your cheeks to heat up. “I don’t warm up,” you start, “And before you lecture me, I know it’s bad… I’m just too lazy to do it.”

He chuckles softly at this as he begins to take off the sweatshirt he was wearing to reveal that he was wearing a muscle tee underneath, leaving almost no room for imagination. “S’okay. I’m too lazy to warm up sometimes too.”

You laugh as you take a seat in front of the machine, pick a favorable weight, and begin your set. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the thought of Bucky Barnes standing just beside you to watch you do your set was both nerve wracking and motivating at the same time. Sure, you wanted to impress him with the amount of reps you could push out, but the way he was staring at you was also making your knees grow weak.

Thankfully, you finish your first set with minimal struggle before standing up and gesturing for him to go next. “That seemed a little too easy for you,” Bucky began, “I know you can lift heavier than that, doll.”

You try to ignore the way your stomach flipped upon hearing the pet name and reply with a playful scoff instead. You take a swig from your bottle as he starts his set. While lifting the whole stack, you admire the way his back muscles expand and contract without focusing too much on the soft grunts that were leaving his mouth.

Did it suddenly get too hot in here?

After a few more workouts and taking turns checking each other out, you both decide to end the day with a set of hammer curls. You watch in awe as he begins to work with a pair of 80kg dumbbells, making your weight look puny.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” you huffed as you continue your set. You see him slightly turn his head towards you in acknowledgment. “Given that you literally have a serum that makes you… you know, strong enough to lift a truck—“ he laughs at that, “why do you still work out?”

He ends his set and places his dumbbells back on the rack. “Well it sort of feels like therapy for me. When I go to the gym, it’s like— are you done with these?” he stops, pointing at the dumbbells you placed down while he was talking. You nod and before you could protest, he picks up the pair with one hand and places them back on the rack for you. “Anyway, when I go to the gym, I can forget about everything, you know? It feels nice to leave the rest of the world behind and pretend like everything is normal in my life,” he finishes.

Bucky lifts his metal arm in front of him. “This doesn’t really help with that though,” he adds, letting out a sad laugh. Your heart clenches at his sentiment, but before you know it, you blurt out, “Do you wanna get coffee after this?”

You widen your eyes at your sudden forwardness. A few weeks ago, you could barely approach him to ask help in re-racking weights, but you also never really imagined you would one day do pull with him, too. So this was sort of like a seize the day kind of thing.

Bucky, too, was caught off guard with your invitation. He never really talked to anyone when he went to the gym, preferring to just keep to himself, but there was something about you that pulled him closer. Maybe it was how friendly you were with everyone in the gym or how he saw you continuously push yourself to your limit in every exercise you do, but he was always intrigued by you.

His therapist told him to step out of his comfort zone more, so with a smile, he replies, “Only if you let me be your gym buddy from now on.”

Your smile reaches your ears as you offer him your hand, which he gladly took, “Deal.”

———

A/N: This really gives off crack energy, but hope you liked it either way ◡̈

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #marvel #the avengers #marvel headcannon

1K notes · View notes

dreaming-medium · 5 months

Text

Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale.

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body.

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same.

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally.

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on.

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off.

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this!

If you pass.

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face.

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat.

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his.

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes.

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use.

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission.

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination.

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you.

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face.

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock.

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can.

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill.

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction.

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat.

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon.

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close.

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own.

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym.

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table.

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top.

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket.

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair.

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest.

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.”

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers.

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector.

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top.

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that.

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job.

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you.

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them.

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are.

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch.

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

Your eyes snap to him and you nod.

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard.

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined.

“Yes.”

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper.

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick.

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank.

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth.

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl.

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard.

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick.

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile.

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper.

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick.

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips.

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation.

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance.

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’”

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…”

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill?

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end.

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves.

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you.

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper.

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you.

Sheepishly, you look away from him.

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest.

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste.

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks.

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue.

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him.

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were.

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard.

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either.

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye.

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you.

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it.

It’s weirdly comforting.

It doesn’t feel weird at all.

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens.

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

---------------------------------------

Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time.

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to.

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted.

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond.

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others.

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all.

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you.

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went.

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here.

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly.

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground.

The others trickled in afterwards.

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face.

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others.

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench.

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet.

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it.

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere.

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer.

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger.

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment.

It should bother you.

But it doesn’t.

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it.

But you would never tell him that.

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you.

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines.

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects.

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually.

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans.

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table.

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp.

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that.

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that.

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked.

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie.

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture.

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning.

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines.

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you.

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face.

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself.

---------------------------------------

B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free.

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table.

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there.

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside.

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in.

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office.

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples.

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore.

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you.

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants.

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss.

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk.

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not.

Instead, you focus on your job.

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars.

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada.

“When and where was this taken?” you ask.

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan.

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow.

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional.

That’s for after the debrief.

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind.

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap.

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse.

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly.

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you.

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time.

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

---------------------------------------

You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago.

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair.

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language.

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance.

Killing targets? Easy!

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done!

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple.

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to.

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves.

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below.

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk.

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit.

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach.

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees.

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky.

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.”

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones.

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head.

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day.

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around.

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him.

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers.

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement.

“What?” you ask.

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast.

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder.

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him.

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

---------------------------------------

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in.

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room.

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice.

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room.

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway.

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table.

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body.

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind.

---------------------------------------

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side.

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you.

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin.

You blend right in to everyone around you.

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour.

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold.

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge.

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman.

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes.

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino.

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally.

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino.

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him.

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him.

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting.

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low.

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering.

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl.

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle.

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes.

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie.

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin.

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath.

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis.

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap.

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor.

---------------------------------------

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head.

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room.

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear.

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth.

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum.

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?”

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker.

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice.

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in.

---------------------------------------

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down.

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath.

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes.

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over.

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door.

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear.

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him.

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise.

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear.

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle.

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly.

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder.

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs.

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot.

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum.

Oh my god, no, fuck, please.

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings.

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded.

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it.

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately.

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer.

“My room is up here, honey.”

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away.

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground.

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner.

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh.

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head.

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn.

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too.

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly.

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you.

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out.

Your heart drops.

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room.

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe.

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly.

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled.

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon?

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second.

You pull your own trigger.

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head.

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors.

Empty.

It’s empty.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear.

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic.

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room?

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses.

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open.

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained.

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle.

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing.

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap.

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice.

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more.

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth.

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot?

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help.

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock.

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead.

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert.

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps.

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders.

He’s okay.

Jisung is okay.

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified.

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling.

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh?

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction.

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists.

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow.

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet.

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie.

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back.

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more.

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand.

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed.

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again.

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed.

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them.

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung.

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes.

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad.

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips.

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more.

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him.

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck.

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat.

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane.

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin.

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline.

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad.

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it.

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats.

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips.

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent.

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath.

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up.

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words.

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent.

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes.

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount.

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.”

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty?

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly.

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground.

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one.

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs.

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing.

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously.

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air.

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite.

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around.

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet.

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere.

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed.

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed.

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs.

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt.

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out.

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more.

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again.

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours.

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce.

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits.

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts.

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry.

He groans and falls into your chest.

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity.

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another.

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair.

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not.

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

---------------------------------------

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer.

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

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