#Unruly Boss
dopeboy-swagg · 10 months ago
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curryvillain · 8 months ago
[email protected] Recruits @PopcaanMusic & @ChrisBrown For The "Gyalis (Remix)"
[email protected] Recruits @PopcaanMusic & @ChrisBrown For The “Gyalis (Remix)”
2021 has been a great year for US based Artist Capella Grey. His “Gyalis” single was everywhere from parties, to becoming a Social Media fixture, to even being featured on a few of your favourite Podcasts and Playlists. While it had some controversy thanks to his Genius “Verified” feature not sitting well with some members of Jamaican/Caribbean Twitter, “Gyalis” is still a hit. On a mission to…
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karemeri · a year ago
the 2016 red bull culture clash 🐐😂 yyy
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funkmamma · a year ago
Popcaan - Have It (feat. Skillibeng & Quada) [official video]
Popcaan - Have It (feat. Skillibeng & Quada) [official video]@PopcaanMusic,@skillibeng,@TeamUnruly
El artista jamaicano Popcaan presenta el videoclip de su nuevo sencillo “Have It” acompañado de Skillibeng y Quada. 
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makingmemesforme · a year ago
Okay, but like, what exactly did Aguni do that made Niragi and Last Boss respect him so much?
Hit me with the dumbest, yet most in character explanations you can come up with.
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insearchofpeterpanmp3 · 29 days ago
got a job working w 15 toddlers this summer Who let this happen every time one of them breaks a rule i want to laugh and go FUCK ya dude the only child i’ve spent copious amounts of time w recently cussed like a sailor, threw tantrums to rival zeus’s thunderstorms, and ran barefoot through the wisconsin wilderness catching chickens and holding them like infants he was 7
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burningfeathersx · 3 months ago
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[Lucifer to every Sin (Pride) and demon he comes across that starts acting up.]
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dolldirector · a year ago
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Imagine spending 3 days on a shitpost, couldn’t be me
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ladycatofwinterfell · a year ago
Watched my favorite movie from when I was a kid and realized that one of the characters from it is still one of my faves of all time and I’m kinda in love with her
#the movie is ronia the robber’s daughter#from 1984 not that new anime series that came a few years ago#idk if that movie was translated into other languages or if it is only Swedish#the book is translated into multiple languages though so maybe someone out there has read it#if that someone sees this it was ronia’s mother lovis#I was so in love with her#still am tbh#gal was the only woman in that fortress with her husband and his twelve robbers and she fucking ruled#she didn’t take anyone’s shit that was her fortress and they were just living in it#and these thirteen big men were afraid of her because she kicked their asses on the daily when they got too unruly#but she also sings and dances with them and even though she doesn’t plunder she’s just as much a robber as the rest of them#her husband is a madman but she’s a queen#and when I say he’s mad I mean it#he screams 99% of his lines and has no chill whatsoever#my man can’t handle emotions very well but he has and awesome wife#at least I think she’s his wife it’s not really clear if they’re married#or if they’re just together#I don’t know how lovis ended up in a fortress with thirteen robbers either but she’s there and she’s the boss#in the movie she has bushy black hair and it’s not even a little book accurate but I just fucking love if#yeah I’m having so many feels about a children’s move so what?#imma go back to being an asoiaf/got blog now sorry for the detour#no im not sorry if you ever have the chance to watch the 1984 live action ronia the robber’s daughter plz watch it
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garoujo · 19 days ago
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he’s your boss, he really shouldn’t be having these feelings about you—but he is, and he doesn’t want to stop.
warnings : f. reader, you work at angels share, diluc masturbates over you in the back room, slight grinding.
word count : 1.8k
note : this got so much longer than intended but i might actually do a part two with the actual goods.
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diluc wasn’t an unprofessional man, he was respected and well known in mondstat—people looked up to him and appreciated how he protected the city. he was polite when he needed to be and a little blunt, powerful and strong. and he was your boss.
he remembers when he first met you, interviewed you for a job at angels share— bright eyed and polite as you reached out to shake his hand with a gentle “nice to meet you, sir. i look forward to working below you.” when he told you you were hired rolling off your tongue in a dreamy, breathier tone. he couldn’t help the way he felt his cheeks heat, trying to hide it with a more passive look on his face when he shuddered at the feeling of your hand in his, only nodding in reply and earning himself an awkward glance away when he pulled his hand back almost immediately, leaving you to assume you’d offended him in some way when he gruffly left after, telling you to be there tomorrow for your shift—when all he truly wants is to feel you again.
you tried, truly, and diluc knew this— you’d tried to get to know him, actually took your time to learn more about the man who worked above you. he’d overheard you talking to diona at the end of your shift one night, slipping in a comment about how you don’t think he likes you much when you realise that it’s just going to be you both closing the bar this weekend, as you suck your pouty lips between your teeth nervously and he can’t deny the sudden drop in his chest before he returns to his quarters in the back as diona giggles at you, because it’s not that. not at all.
you just made him feel strange, diluc thinks as he stands in the cellar now— staring absentmindedly at the wine lining the shelves maybe an hour before the bar is due to close, the last of the drunk townsfolk finishing their drinks and wandering home in their drunken haze.
he didn’t dislike you, not at all, you were a good worker, great even and the patrons at the bar loved you—maybe he did avoid you a little or always seem to leave the bar whenever your shift started, but it’s because he couldn’t help the way his gaze lingered on you whenever you were around him. it was easier that way to hide how his eyes would trail along your figure under your apron, trying to cover it up with blunt words and folded arms, shaking his head whenever you caught him. he hated the way his heart would race whenever you sat next to him on the bar stools, and you always did. bouncing down next to him with a breathless sigh and it took everything in him not to reach out to pull you closer when your thigh knocked against his own, because bosses shouldn’t do that with their employees, should they?
maybe he should apologise to you , diluc thought as he ran an exasperated hand through his unruly red locks— cursing under his breath before pulling himself together and adjusting his coat with a sigh as he turned. i mean what would he even say? sorry if he’s been impolite but he thinks you’re really pretty.. “how ridiculous.” he groans at the realisation, turning to leave the cellar to return back to where he knows you’ll be.
but he stops silently in the door way when he actually finds you, leaning over the bar and facing away from him as you clean up a few of the final glasses—bidding farewell to the last of the customers as you get ready to close up for the night.
you haven’t noticed him yet and maybe that’s a good thing diluc realises when he finds his eyes trailing along your figure once more as he swallows heavily. the dim lighting of the bar still illuminating the curve of your hips and ass in your outfit, short skirt falling along the skin delicately— almost teasing him, stopping just short of your thighs and he’s pretty sure if he bent down a little he’d be able to see—
“master diluc?” you breathe, turning to him slowly and diluc is hoping you don’t notice the sharp inhale he takes in surprise before his face falls back to his usual expression and he clears his throat, breaking the silence as he tries to calm down his heart rate.
“was that the last of them?” he asks, his voice coming out lower than he thought it would as he crosses the bar he’s standing across from you— trying to ignore the way your gaze on him is making his face burn hot. but just when he’s sure he’s blushing you turn away, nodding with one of your sweeter smiles before you place the glance on the shelf as he approaches you.
you smell nice, kind of sweet, diluc realises when he steps closer— expecting you to move aside but when you only turn your attention back to the next glass, he’s no other choice but to close the distance between you both, furrowing his brows as he reaches over you for a cloth to help you clean, steadying himself with his other hand on the bar beside you but careful enough to keep some distance between your back and his chest.
but you’re so close, from this angle diluc can make out the curves of your figure even clearer now, his eyes narrowed and half lidded as he steals glances at your skin beneath him, suddenly forgetting what he was reaching for in the first place, too busy trying not to focus on the way his skin feels warm at the close proximity, suddenly aware of how close his other hand is to your skin, his breathing becoming increasingly shallow when you sigh beneath him and he can’t help but inch closer.
are you okay, master diluc?” you hum, turning to look at him again before he can realise how close he is. the swell of your ass brushing against diluc’s crotch as he grunts slightly and he can’t help the sudden, involuntary buck of his hips to feel you closer as he bites back a groan so intensely it almost sounds like a snarl, earning a gasp from you when his hand that was previously wrapped around the bar suddenly grabs your hips to keep you both steady.
diluc feels you tense when his fingers tighten into the flesh of your hips before you relax, and he’s unsure if it’s the dizzy spin of his mind that’s convinced him you’re pushing yourself closer to him, or if you feel exactly what he does too as the sudden atmosphere in the room becomes heavier.
he doesn’t think about it too much, he doesn’t let himself— he must look so unprofessional, but another breathy— almost whimpered sigh of his name falling from your lips earns you another needy twitch from his hips and cock as he’s pulled from another lewd daydream, tearing himself away from you with a curt apology and a “please excuse me.” as he leaves suddenly, excusing himself to the back room before the door closes and his back hits the cool wood afterwards, a shakey exhale falling from his lips as he grumbles, letting his gaze fall to the now obvious bulge in his black slacks, “s-so, ridiculous.”
he shouldn’t, not here, diluc thinks— smoothing back the red hair that’s fell messily over his flushed skin, letting his head fall back against the door as his fingers smooth under the waistband of his sweats. but he can’t face you like this, the crimson haired male realises before he sighs and unbuttons his pants, pushing them down just enough to allow his heavy cock to spring free, already sensitive as precum gathers at the blunt tip and diluc wraps his gloved hand around the base— giving it a few shallow pumps before he hisses through his teeth, stifling any noise in the hopes you don’t hear him.
he steadiest himself against the door as his thighs tremble, swiping his thumb along the beads of precum before smearing them along his thick shaft with a few lazy, languid pumps. his skin felt sticky as he continued his ministrations, thumping his head back against the door behind him as his eyes gloss over and flutter closed, not being able to control the way his mind goes over his last encounter with you as his hips buck, the fat head of his cock glistening and disappearing into his fist.
“god—“ diluc grumbles, words muffled as he clenching his jaw, recalling the way you said his name, your tone dreamy and honeyed everytime “master diluc” falls from your lips, like it’s just for him and he can’t help but think about how much prettier it would sound through a moan.
he sloppily pumps his thick cock as he remembers just how the curve of his empoyees ass felt against him, panting shamelessly at the way you relaxed into his embrace— like you trusted him, but would you still trust him knowing he was doing this right now? would you still continue to work here? “hngghh—” diluc huffs, pushing that thought from his hazed mind as he twists his hand around his cock just like he likes, imagining it was your hand instead as he forms a tight circle around the sensitive pink glands and squeezes, accidentally letting a shakey, languid moan of your name slip from his lips as his fingers graze over the sensitive head of his cock.
the squelching noises only grow louder, echoing through his dimly lit room as he loses himself in more thoughts of you— how you’d look underneath him, how warm your mouth would probably feel around him as you babble out “harder, diluc—“ from your pouty lips as his hands tighten on your hips again. he wants to feel more of you, see more of you.
diluc’s technique grows messier with each involuntary buck of his hips, more hushed groans falling from him as his tongue flicks out to drag along his lips, his other gloved hand pressing over his mouth to muffle his noises. this is shameful—the way he’s behaving, but the thought of you beneath him as he sinks into your needy, glistening folds has him losing his mind as he grunts, clenching his teeth before his orgasm suddenly rips through him as he muffles another needy moan of your name.
the familiar rush of heat ignites his nerves as he trembles, digging his heels into the hard wooden floor below him to steady himself as he spills over his gloves and coat, thick ropes of cum dripping down the fabric as he tries to swallow a deep but satisfied groan before he’s trying to keep himself steady on trembling thighs, burying his face into his one clean palm when what he’s done finally settles into the room.
“master diluc? did you call me? is everything okay?” diluc jumps, slamming himself against the door as his heavy, vermillion eyes widen with panic— realising the position he’s in now, covered in cum after relieving himself over his employee in the back room of his own bar. “ uh, yes—i’m sorry. i just forgot to take stock on one of the wines, almost done.”
but he can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the sound of his name from your lips.
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© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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yutaholic · 7 months ago
daddy issues (M)
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pairing: Johnny (NCT) + you (reader)
genre: fake dating; the title speaks for itself; smut
word count: 18.9k (i restrained myself as much as possible)
summary: The moment you saw Johnny on his motorcycle in all black leather, you knew he was just what you needed to exact revenge on your holier than thou parents. Surprisingly enough, Johnny has the personality of a cloud and the longer you pretend to date him, the more you realize he brings out the best in you.
warnings: mild language; recurring alcohol use and brief mentions of marijuana and cigarettes; potentially triggering elements that involve negligent parents; explicit sexual content
a/n: listening to daddy issues by the neighbourhood; this is a one-shot, there will be no sequels; check the masterlist in my description for other one-shots in this collection; happy reading!
“I swear to god, if you embarrass me again…”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” you droned, rolling your eyes. “I will be on my best behavior.”
It went without saying that you were lying through your teeth. Never did a day pass without you seizing an opportunity to humiliate your mother.
Given that she treated you like an expensive yet annoying accessory on her arm, you were dedicated to reminding her every chance you got that you were a human being with free will. And a penchant for mischief.
This manifested itself in ways of you getting into trouble whenever and wherever possible. The embarrassment your mother was currently referring to occurred during last month’s fancy dinner when you were caught in a back room with a boy’s hand up your blouse.
His father, of course, was the host of the massive shareholder’s banquet. And he also happened to be your mother’s direct supervisor and boss. Surely, that was just a coincidence.
At some point in the years bridging you from unruly teenager to reckless adult, you decided that your body was the perfect vessel for revenge. Boys were a dime a dozen and they were always ready to take you for a spin like you were the latest model of a luxury car.
Speaking of boys, the sight of a familiar face made you frown. You tucked into a hallway before he could see you and downed another flute of champagne, wishing for something a lot stronger.
The evening was dragging on and on, no end in sight. You were exhausted, like you’d spent the last two hours dancing. Which was more or less true. You were strategically drifting around the dining hall to keep distance between yourself and a certain someone that wanted to kiss you again.
A welcome presence joined you in the hallway, holding the long skirt of her red gown in one hand and a wine glass in the other. “Aren’t we supposed to be mingling?” Victoria sang, teasing. She wasn’t keen on joining the festivities either, where dying of boredom was a possible side-effect. Her parents, however, insisted on dragging her along to every event to show off their perfect and extremely eligible daughter.
“I’m avoiding Nathan,” you replied dryly.
Your best friend snorted, handing you the rest of her white wine. Clearly you needed it more than she did. “I can’t imagine why,” she said with a playful smile. “You had your tongue down his throat last month.”
You downed the glass in one shot. “And he’s still mad he didn’t get past my boobs. As if I would let his dick anywhere near me. It’s probably been inside half the girls in Calabasas by now.”
Victoria snorted. “You’re not wrong.”
Anyone else would have asked the glaringly obvious question - why did you kiss a boy in the first place if you despised him? But Victoria knew you. If ever a study was done on your pathological need for debauchery, she would be the primary author.
You leaned against the wall, stepping out of your high heels and letting them hang from your fingers. Your pantyhose kept your feet from getting too cold on the marble floors, but not by much. Still, it was preferable to the ache of having been on your toes all night.
Victoria tapped away at her phone, the click of her long fingernails filling the silence. For the past fifteen minutes, she hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from the screen which meant her new boyfriend was undoubtedly chatting her up.
Clearing your throat for her attention, you deadpanned, “Cheater.”
“Oh, please,” she snarled, still typing away. “You know I love you more than any man.”
You grinned; she had managed to pull a rare, genuine laugh from you. “How is the boytoy?”
From what she had told you, he was a hot, tall specimen of a man with the personality of a teddy bear. It wasn’t like Victoria to fall head over heels for someone, but he had swept her off her feet in no time at all. She had been dying for you to meet him, but schedules were a nightmare.
Victoria glanced up, looking very naughty. “He’s here. Ready to blow this joint?”
You were practically beaming. “Don’t tell me you got us an escape plan? I will wife you up here and now.”
“He’s waiting outside with his other biker buddies. He says either of them would be happy to give you a ride. Take your pick.”
“Biker boys,” you purred with a shake of your head. “My mother would love that.”
Victoria giggled and scanned around to make sure the coast was clear, then headed toward the back.
Pulling your shoes back on, you texted your mother that you were leaving with Victoria to get ice cream. You promised not to be caught in any potentially scandalous scenarios (having Victoria in tow gave you some leeway, since your mother considered her an angel), but that she shouldn’t expect you to mingle with her constituents anymore this evening.
Fine, was all your mother responded. Truth be told, you were downright shocked she even bothered to reply.
Victoria took your hand and after retrieving your coats to cover your silky gowns, the two of you stepped through the backdoor reserved for staff and shivered at the gust of night air.
It was bitterly cold, as to be expected in November, and your breath was like a cloud of smoke. The sharp chill stung your cheeks and eyes, but heat filled your face when a voice called, “What’s good, baby girl?”
You rolled your eyes, but you’d be lying if you said the trio of boys on motorcycles didn’t hook your interest. They looked like nothing but trouble and you were thrilled.
Victoria pointed down the line, identifying each of the bikers, “Johnny, Matthew, and Shownu - my boy.” Then, she told them your name.
All three men greeted you politely and you gave them a brief wave of your fingers while Victoria bounded forward.
Tightening your coat around you, you approached the guys, high heels clicking loudly on the asphalt. “I hope we didn’t interrupt a meeting of the big boys club.”
Johnny quipped, “She’s got jokes.”
“But she’s not wrong,” Matthew added with a click of his tongue.
Shownu was too busy trying to keep up with Victoria’s lips on his to offer a comment.
Never in a million years would you hop on a bike with a complete stranger. You may have been mischievous to a fault, but you weren’t stupid. Victoria hung out with the guys often since she began dating Shownu and personally vouched for them, considering she and Shownu had just happily celebrated three months together. He was the biggest secret of her life, because her parents would not only disapprove, they would probably drop dead of embarrassment to learn their daughter rode a motorcycle. And the man driving it.
That was the gold standard of reaction you wanted from your parents, but the closest you’d gotten was giving your mother a migraine that she treated with vodka.
Eyeing the pair of boys you were told you could take your pick from, you were leaning toward the one closest to you. Matthew was handsome, there was no doubt. Honestly speaking, all three of them were hot and muscular and working the shit out of their leather jackets, but it was Johnny that had your attention. Something sparkled in his amber eyes. They reminded you of the warmth of a fire in the middle of winter.
You ambled toward Johnny, pretending to check out his bike and running your fingertips over the nearest handlebar. You knew absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but when it came to men, you were something of an expert. “Can I bum a smoke?” you asked coolly.
“I don’t smoke,” Johnny replied, the corners of his mouth ticking upward. He was pleased that you’d picked him. “It’s bad for you.”
Matthew mumbled something about being the fifth wheel and pulled on his helmet, but he seemed to be a good sport about it.
You spoke to Victoria, but didn’t take your eyes off of Johnny, “I guess you didn’t warn them about me. I like things that are bad.”
Johnny cocked a brow. He was holding your gaze intently, waiting for you to falter, but you didn’t. With him astride the motorcycle and you standing, he was quite literally looking up at you with undeniable interest. Having already checked out his long leather clad legs, you knew the positions would be reversed before long.
After getting her fill of affection, Victoria straddled the motorcycle behind Shownu and put on her helmet. It was adorned with purple butterfly decals. “Ready?” she called, excited.
Johnny promptly reached back and patted the empty seat behind him.
You gave Johnny a sideways glance, pretending to be indecisive, and asked, “Are you a serial killer?”
“I love cereal,” he retorted, holding out his spare helmet to you. “Are you a Cocoa Puffs or Lucky Charms kind of girl?”
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” you replied, putting on the helmet and mounting the bike.
Johnny revved the engine rapidly for effect and grinned when he felt your unsure hands on his ribs. Grabbing your wrists, he guided you to wrap your arms snugly around his torso and said, “Hold on tight.”
You cried out when the motorcycle surged onto the road with a jolt and squeezed Johnny’s firm waist for dear life.
The three bikes roared down the highway leaving the big city behind and for your first time on a motorcycle, you found it predictably to your liking. There was something inherently exciting - and maybe a bit dangerous - to it. A combination you were already addicted to.
Minutes passed by in a blur. The city lights faded into the darkness, replaced by clusters of houses. You looked around curiously at your surroundings when Johnny began to slow down, falling in line behind Shownu and Matthew down a row of small homes. The neighborhood looked worn down and old, more than likely working class on the poorer side. It was a far cry from the condominiums and penthouses you were accustomed to.
The trio of motorcycles slipped into an open, dimly lit garage attached to a brown one-story house. It had a tall privacy fence and warm outdoor lights that illuminated the path to the front porch. You knew then it was Shownu’s house, remembering that Victoria told you everyone liked to spend time off at his place. It was quiet; a nice break from the city chaos and noise.
When everyone took off their helmets, you followed suit and placed it carefully on the back of Johnny’s bike. Johnny made no moves to stand yet, so you stayed put. Your bare knees were pressed on opposite sides of his hips for balance and Johnny definitely noticed.
Victoria skipped over to you, sporting a big smile, and leaned in to whisper, “Mind chilling out here while I get laid?”
You resisted a laugh at her expense. “Not at all. You’re my best friend. You deserve it.”
Victoria kissed your cheek and vanished into the house with her boyfriend.
Matthew wished you and Johnny goodnight, saying, “I’m gonna crash like a motherfucker. Hopefully before those two start going at it. Your best friend is a screamer.”
You retorted, “She told me if you’ve seen what her boyfriend is packing you’d understand.”
“I have seen it,” Matthew shot back, and by the look on his face it must have been a dreadful memory for him. “The three of us went skinny dipping.”
“Once,” Johnny quickly interjected, holding up a single finger.
“And yes, he could poke an eye out with that thing,” said Matthew, bobbing his head.
You chuckled and Matthew went into the house, leaving you with your new friend.
The silence was awkward for a moment. You were hyper aware of the man you were sharing a bike with and just how ridiculously attractive he was, and given the proximity, he also smelled really good. Which was an added bonus.
Glancing over his shoulder, Johnny was having similar thoughts. While you were straddling his motorcycle, your silky green gown had ridden up, exposing your thighs. He worried that you were getting too cold, but was more distracted by the fact you hadn’t slid back since he parked even though there was more than enough room.
“Thank you,” you said softly when Johnny took off his leather jacket and handed it to you. You quickly pulled the heavy material around your shoulders and watched your hands disappear inside the sleeves.
“Wanna go inside?”
“Not really,” you replied grimly. “She may be my best friend and the love of my life, but to this day, I don’t know what she sounds like getting dicked down and I would like to die without that knowledge.”
Johnny laughed and the sound made you smile. “We can stay out here then. Sound good?”
Johnny surprised you, standing up and turning around to face you before sitting back down on the bike. He grabbed your knees and dragged you close until your legs draped over his thick thighs. “Why don’t you tell me what I can do for you?” he asked slyly.
You bit your lip. Johnny was very forward and confident, and you were way too attracted to that. The garage suddenly felt warmer. You wrapped his leather jacket around you a little tighter, an obvious display to him that you liked the way it felt on you, and asked coyly, “Do we make out now?”
“Whatever you want,” he murmured, eyes wandering down your body before returning to your face.
You shook your head in annoyance. “Damn her. Now I’m thinking about sex and huge dongs that can apparently take out eyes.”
Johnny tried to stifle another laugh and failed miserably, snorting instead.
You sidled closer until you were sitting squarely on his lap and crossed your arms behind his head. “Tell me about yourself.”
Johnny traced his palms over your waist and to your back. His touch was gentle, but deliberate. He would slowly but surely work you up until he got a reaction out of you. “Well, I’m a teacher,” he told you proudly.
You tilted your head, surprised but mostly intrigued. That was the last thing you expected him to say. “Really?”
“Yep. Eighth grade World History.”
You almost winced. “Middle school? So, you like misery, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Johnny said with amusement, but there was a certain fondness in his eyes. “How about you?”
“I do, too. I work for my parents’ company. They started an investment firm straight out of college that became a very lucrative hedge fund and thanks to nepotism, I’m a successful stock broker.”
Johnny made a face, like that deeply impressed him. His fingers drifted from your back to your hips. “Do you like it?” he asked curiously.
You groaned, “God, no. It’s boring, repetitive work and Wall Street boys are some of the biggest assholes the world has to offer. They have no sense of humor, very little personality and even tinier dicks so making more money than God was really their only option.”
Johnny was getting flustered with how easily you made him laugh. He was just as attracted to you as you were to him. Never had he met a girl so blunt and forthright, and it was hot as hell. Not to mention funny. He was usually the source of laughs in a conversation, but you could match his energy. You talked like you had the universe figured out and Johnny was eager to hear your thoughts on just about anything.
“Then, why don’t you do something else?”
You wrinkled your nose and there was the slightest hint of sadness behind your words, “Because I’m not good at anything else. Except getting into trouble.”
Johnny cocked his head, crooning, “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh, try me.”
His hands were on your thighs now. “Do you fuck guys on motorcycles a lot?”
You leaned back, flashing your teeth in amusement though your reply dripped with sarcasm, “Mm, only five minutes in and we’ve reached the body count part of the conversation. For your information, this was my first time on a danger bike.”
Johnny studied you. The thin layer of silk between his palms and your thighs both frustrated and aroused him. “Interesting,” he hummed. “I’m happy to have been your first, but I don’t give a fuck what your body count is.”
You flexed your legs, bringing yourself even closer. His lips were just a breath away from yours now. You wanted to kiss him; it was a foregone conclusion. For now, you were enjoying the teasing and the seduction and the anticipation of it all. “What do you give a fuck about?” you asked him with interest.
Johnny roamed his palms back to your hips and kneaded them with his big hands. You were sitting squarely over his cock now and his pulse was starting to throb. Among other things. “Right now, I’m all eyes for you,” he flirted. “You’re the first girl in a while not to dry up after hearing I’m a middle school teacher.”
You spun some of his dark hair around your finger behind his head. “Do you like it?”
There was no hesitation. “I love it.”
You shrugged. “Then, you’re pretty cool in my book. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who actually likes their job? You’re, like, one rank below unicorn.”
Johnny retorted, “And do you know how rare it is to find a girl that thinks I’m cool? In my book, you are a unicorn.”
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, though you flushed at the sweet talk. He was pretty good at keeping up with your nonsense. “One look at you on this goddamn bike in this goddamn black leather and I was already thinking about what it would be like to fuck you.”
Johnny tipped his head back and whined, “Okay, normally I’m the one talking like that. You’re supposed to be swooning and hanging on my every word.”
You came in for the kill, shifting intentionally on his lap over a familiar hardness in his pants. “What’s the matter, big boy? Only had sweet little innocent girls on your bike and your dick?”
Johnny switched on a dime. He grabbed your hair and pulled you flush against him, mocking, “The fact that you’re so out of control tells me you’ve never had a man put you in your place before.”
Your eyes widened in surprise for a fraction of a second before fading into a hooded stare. His lips were brushing yours now and that was very much intentional. Your hands roamed down his body, tracing the lines of hard muscle beneath his shirt. Your voice was barely audible, “Are you offering to put me in my place?”
Johnny was thinking about your clothed breasts pressed against him and how badly he wanted them in his hands. Threading his fingers deeper into your hair, keeping you in place, he said, “I can smell your daddy issues from here, baby girl.”
You countered, “They’re not half as bad as my mommy issues, baby boy.”
Johnny smirked. “I love a challenge.”
The grip on your hair slacked just a little, giving you a chance to straighten your stiff back, but you didn’t hesitate to cradle his face in your hands. Any minute now, you were gonna lose the last of your restraint. It was a testament to your willpower that you had lasted this long. His, too.
“A lot of boys have tried to tame,” you finally said. “You wanna give it a try?”
“I do.”
You crashed your lips on his and kissed him like you had never wanted anything so badly in your life. You could feel him smiling against your mouth, kissing you back just as hotly. The motorcycle rocked a little beneath you and him, swayed by your movements on top of him. In your eagerness to kiss him, you were pressing your body into his as close as you could to feel his warmth.
There was a catch in your breath as he kissed you harder and you moaned softly in pleasure. Johnny wrapped his arms around you, trapping you to him, and planted his feet more firmly on the ground to balance the bike. You were rocking your hips into his, grinding on the hard bulge in his pants, and Johnny felt his heart preparing to tear out of his chest. That little catch in your breath and the heat of your body against his made him painfully hard, but he focused on deepening the kiss and slipped his tongue into your mouth.
You pulled back, losing yourself in Johnny’s pretty eyes and shivering at the dazed, clouded look he was sporting. “My parents would hate you,” you told him playfully.
He replied in good humor, “Why? I’m delightful.”
You brought your lips to his neck and left a few featherlight kisses over his racing pulse. “You look like trouble.”
“Funny. I was going to say the same thing about you,” he whispered in your ear. His hands were heavy on your thighs, dangerously close to your sex.
You sat back, draping your arms on his shoulders. The sick and twisted idea rolling inside your head needed to get out. “What if I brought you home to meet my Mom just to piss her off?”
“Damn, I may look the part, but you really are the bad baby, aren’t you?”
“So bad.”
Johnny stole a kiss. “I’m game. Keep grinding on my dick and I’ll do just about anything for you.”
“Good to know,” you said and slotted your lips back to his again.
The garage filled with the sounds of wet kisses, but Johnny broke away not long after. Things were getting too hot and heavy and the last thing he wanted was to finish in his pants. Johnny gave one last chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth and stood with you in his arms.
You snickered when he set you down on the bike and watched him drift to a speaker in the corner, turning the knob until the radio stuttered to life and filled the garage with a slow tune. You knew he was getting too worked up and that made you smug, but for now, you would leave him be.
“My parents can be royal assholes and they will throw insults at you that you’ve probably never even heard of.”
Johnny shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck.” And he truly didn’t. “I’m a big boy, remember?”
You raised a brow. “You’re sure?”
Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were a fucking goddess sitting on his bike with your bare legs on display. “I would have to give a shit about them for their opinions to bother me. And considering their own daughter hates their guts, I don’t think they’ll ever be getting my respect.”
If you weren’t already toying with the idea of dropping to your knees and sucking him dry, you were practically salivating now. “So, we have a deal then?”
Johnny gave you a single nod. “Yes, we do.”
You stood and asked bluntly, “Do you wanna go inside and fool around with me?”
You gawked in disbelief. Never had a boy turned you down for some loving. “No?” you questioned, like maybe you’d misheard him.
Johnny leaned back against the wall, crossing his ankles and folding his arms. He seemed completely unfazed, which did nothing but exasperate you. There was something so nonchalant in his expression when he asked, “Do you want to have sex with me - yes or no?”
It felt like a trap, but you couldn’t help but answer, “Yes.”
“Then, no.”
You frowned, coming toward him. You craved feeling his warmth again, though his jacket kept you shielded from the cold. “Why not?”
Johnny peered down at you and tugged you close to him with an arm around your waist. “Because you’re used to getting what you want. Welcome to the first round of being put in your place, sweetheart.”
Your lips parted in surprise. And maybe disappointment. This game could be fun if you let it, but you weren’t ready to give up yet. “What if I begged?”
Johnny arched a brow and asked, though he already knew what your answer would be, “Did you beg the other boys?”
“Of course not,” you replied with a scoff. “They couldn’t wait to give it to me.”
With a smug little grin meant to antagonize you, Johnny retorted, “Then, beg all you want, but I’m not giving you shit.”
You folded your arms, obstinate, and watched him meander toward a worn out fridge by the door. He grabbed a soda and offered you one, which you declined with a shake of your head, and then sank down on the raggedy sofa against the wall.
You scowled furiously, but your anger wasn’t real. It was frustration, plain and simple. You weren’t accustomed to being denied and you weren’t exactly sure how to deal with it. “I just met you and already you annoy me.”
He beamed. “Good.”
You rolled your eyes, arms still tightly folded across your chest.
“Come here,” Johnny said, patting the spot beside him.
Your high heels clicked loudly as you moved to join him, plunking down and leaning against his side. Johnny had held his arm out, hooking around your shoulders and drawing you close to him. You rested your head on his chest, sighing contentedly when his hand landed on your hip.
You and Johnny filled the next half hour with small talk until Victoria returned to the garage with an obvious wobble to her step. “Hey, so it’s late and we better get going,” she said hurriedly, out of breath.
You resisted a giggle at her bed hair. “Had enough?”
She groaned, “My heart says no, but my lady bits say yes.”
“Tapped out after one round, did you?”
Tugging on his jacket, Shownu spoke up then on her behalf, “Hey, give my baby more credit. She tapped out after two.”
You gave her a thumbs up.
The pair of bikes rolled to a stop in Victoria’s driveway. Given the late hour, you decided to crash at her place.
As Victoria and Shownu acted like they were being torn apart forever and dramatically professed their love for one another, you turned to Johnny and said, “Thank you for keeping me company.”
“Thank you for picking me to give you a ride,” he replied, flirtatious.
You looped your arms around his neck, butterflies dancing in your stomach when his hands pressed into the lowest curve of your back. “Can I have a kiss?”
Johnny stared you down. You could feel his breath on your lips. “Say please.”
You narrowed your eyes up at him, glaring. For the sake of your wounded pride, you set your jaw. But your need to kiss him won in the end. “Please,” you finally whispered. “Please, kiss me again.”
Johnny met his lips to yours softly. It was a tender, patient kiss, like the tip of an iceberg. So much was promised underneath the surface. Your mind was already racing with possibilities.
You bit your lip to hide a smile when Johnny reluctantly parted from you. He bid you goodnight and spoke your name, as if savoring the sound of it on his tongue. You were wishing he didn’t have to leave.
Johnny didn’t take his eyes off of you. Not as he started the engine. Or when he pulled on his helmet.
The bikes roared into the night, fading out of sight. You and Victoria stood in the driveway and waved goodbye, though the boys were long gone. Even when the echo of their motors had passed, the two of you stood there like lovestruck idiots.
“What a man,” Victoria said wistfully, her hip bumping into yours.
You nodded. Johnny was permanently stuck inside your head. Already you were missing him.
Following her into the kitchen, Victoria dropped her keys on the counter and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge. You thanked her when she handed you one. Meanwhile, your best friend could barely wait to ask, “How did it go with Johnny?”
You quipped, “He tried to dominate me.”
“Oh? How did he do?” Though she sounded amused, she was also pleasantly surprised.
“Pretty well actually.”
Leaning against the counter and meeting your eyes, she was succinct. “Do you wanna see him again?”
“Yeah,” you eventually said, smiling more so to yourself as you thought about his kisses. “I really, really do.”
For the next month, Victoria brought you along to all of her hangouts with the boys. It wasn’t as often as you would have liked; mostly on the weekends due to everyone having full-time jobs, but you enjoyed every second of it.
How could you not? Johnny had you eating from the palm of his hand. He was just so interesting, for lack of a better word, and you were completely enamored. When you weren’t spending time with him, you were taking breaks during work to text back and forth.
For the most part, you finally felt what it was like to be on the other side of your usual dynamics. Johnny seemed unaffected by your charms, which only made you want him more, but he was definitely into you. He asked you lots of questions, some even on the dangerous or invasive side, like he wanted to know what made you tick.
It was a welcome change of pace for you.
Though you weren’t ready to admit that you were becoming completely disarmed by him. Johnny didn’t act entitled to your body nor did he bat an eye when you threw yourself at him. When it came to dealing with the opposite sex, your only weapon against them had been effectively taken away from you until you were - more or less - vulnerable.
All you had left was honesty.
It was a clever little game of chess, you supposed. The more Johnny resisted your advances, the more you opened up to him. He was peeling you back layer by layer. Then, maybe when he’d reached the core, he would finally have you and you could feel powerful again.
“Tell me something,” Johnny said.
Your eyes were on the stars. They looked brighter tonight. You and Johnny were sitting on the back porch of Shownu’s house, his long legs rocking the swing back and forth. Both of you were huddled together, sharing a thick blanket to ward off the winter cold.
“Sure,” you said without a thought.
“Why do you hate your parents?”
You scoffed out a laugh, mirthless. “How much time do you have?”
“Plenty,” he replied, not a shred of humor to be found. It was sincere and honest.
You didn’t open up to people, least of all to someone you wanted to fuck. It was better they knew nothing about you, not a single ounce of information that could be used against you. Only Victoria knew your deep secrets, but even she wasn’t allowed to see the darkest parts of your soul.
The things you kept buried.
“Well,” you began, trying to appear nonchalant. “When they divorced, they fought over two things - the business they made together and the child they made together. And believe me, they fought much harder for the business than they ever did for me.”
Johnny shook his head in reproach. “Jesus.”
“When the courts ruled that their multi-million dollar hedge fund was jointly owned and always would be, then they turned their attention to me. Not because either of them actually wanted me, they just wanted to spite each other.” You often likened them to hyenas fighting over scraps despite their full bellies.
“Who got you in the end?”
You frowned at the bitter taste on your tongue and exhaled loudly. “My Mom, but only because my father walked away. He found a pretty girl my age to whore around with. I think she’s pregnant with his second kid already. Typical midlife crisis.”
Johnny finally offered some levity. “Sounds like a soap opera.”
“I wish,” you grumbled, relieved to no longer be talking about your past. “At least there would be commercial breaks.”
Johnny rubbed your arm and chuckled lightly. At your joke, not what you’d told him. He decided then and there that when the time came for him to meet your parents, he would not hold back.
The blanket slid from your shoulder as you sat up a little, turning to face him more squarely though his arm was still wrapped around your waist. Johnny quickly tucked the blanket over you again in a considerate gesture. “Why do you want to know these things about me? No one has ever asked about my past before.”
Johnny met your eyes and simpered. His answer was so tender it sent a pain through your chest, “I want to understand you.”
You just couldn’t fathom that. If he wasn’t after your body, there was no way you were worth that kind of time and effort. What did this stranger see in you that no one else did, including yourself? He was such a goddamn mystery.
“Why?” you pressed quietly.
“Because I like you,” Johnny whispered, cradling your cheek and leaning in to kiss you. Hoping it would silence your doubts.
This kiss was different. It was chaste and sweet, like the first kiss shared between two young lovers. You wanted to giggle. It felt like having a crush on someone again.
Johnny pulled back and stroked a finger over your lip. He was searching your eyes, stargazing for all you knew.
“Your turn.” You finally found your voice and molded yourself to his side again, resting your head on his shoulder. “Tell me all about you.”
And he did.
Johnny was born into money just like you were. His parents were humble immigrants that worked hard to provide him with everything they never had. They put him through the best schools and helped him pay his way through college so he didn’t amass debt. Though they were disappointed he chose to be a teacher instead of something more lucrative, they supported him unequivocally and never failed to tell him just how proud they were of him.
It made your heart twist with envy. Just a little. His parents sounded truly wonderful and you pondered what that must have been like to have two wonderful parents. You could tell by the way he spoke of them that they were genuinely good people. And damn, did he love them.
“My Mom would like you,” Johnny added.
That took you by surprise, in a good way, and you hid behind a laugh. “Now, that’s something I’ve never heard.”
“I’m serious,” Johnny insisted, nudging you. “She would love your personality. You’re a tough cookie. The two of you would totally vibe.”
“If you say so,” you teased, nuzzling closer to him.
“She’s been begging me to bring a girl home for years,” he groaned, smiling fondly as he recalled all the times his mother asked when he planned on providing her with a daughter-in-law.
Your eyes widened a bit. “You’ve never brought a girl home to meet your Mom?” It sounded ludicrous. There was no way girls weren’t flocking to Johnny. He was the total package. And fine as hell.
“Nope. I told you. Girls aren’t into teachers.” And he had yet to meet someone worthy to introduce to his mother. He was waiting for the right one.
“That’s so petty and shallow,” you said with disdain.
“I agree.”
You took his face between your hands and flirted, “Lucky for you, I’m so into you that I couldn’t care less what you do. Though that doesn’t change the fact I think your job is great.”
Johnny snickered and the sound was cut off by your lips colliding with his.
When Victoria walked out onto the back porch, she stopped for a minute and fought a giggle at the sight before her. Johnny had you on your back on the slowly rocking porch swing and moaned lowly into your mouth. You hooked your legs on his hips and tried not to combust at how good he felt on top of you.
“Bug!” Victoria shouted at the top of her lungs.
You and Johnny leapt up like you were on fire, searching frantically for whatever insect was crawling on you, shrieking, “Where? Where?”
Victoria burst into a fit of laughter, clapping her hands together, and you reminded yourself of how much you loved her to keep from tackling her to the ground in revenge.
When Johnny brought you home, you exclaimed, “Oh, shoot. I forgot to mention. Tomorrow night is a formal dinner. Ready to be flaunted in front of my holier than thou mother?”
Johnny made a face, remembering the arrangement you two had agreed on the night you met. He wasn’t particularly inclined to be used as some kind of weapon of revenge, but he’d agreed to it for a chance to see you again. “If that’s what you want, I’m game.”
“Are you sure? It’s really short notice. That’s my fault because I try to block them out from my brain until the last second.”
Johnny took your hand. “I said I’ll go. I’m going.”
“Great.” You breathed out in relief. “Pick me up at eight?”
“I won’t be late.”
As it turned out, Johnny was very punctual.
It was five minutes to eight when his motorcycle roared into your driveway. In a rush to see him, you threw on your coat and stumbled into your shoes, opening the front door just as he raised his hand to ring the doorbell.
“Wow,” you said, whistling briefly. “You clean up nice.”
Johnny looked bashful. “Thank you.”
He was wearing dress pants and a matching black blazer. He had passed on wearing a tie, but his white shirt underneath was buttoned neatly to the collar.
“Where’s the black leather?” you asked playfully, holding his hand as he led you to the bike.
“At home where it belongs,” he quipped, though there was a slight edge to it.
You watched him mount the bike and grabbed the spare helmet, starting, “Yeah, but part of introducing you to my mother was to…”
“I know, but I don’t want to,” he interjected firmly, starting up the engine. “I agreed to play along as your bad news boytoy, but I don’t want to be paraded around like a whore while I do it.”
You met his eyes, a pang of guilt stabbing your chest. Nodding that you accepted his terms, you said, “Okay.”
When you straddled the bike behind him, Johnny teased, “I promise, you’ll be more than happy with my performance tonight.”
You wound your arms around his waist. “I’m sure.”
In the past few weeks of getting to know Johnny, you were also bonding with his bike. He showed you all his favorite spots, places he jokingly asked you to keep secret. Just you and him to know. A cliff overlooking the ocean. A hidden beach by the bay. A secluded nook near the woods. They were all etched into your mind forever as places Johnny had kissed you.
Mounting the motorcycle and pulling on the spare helmet felt more familiar now. Some nights he just drove and drove, letting you feel as close as you could to taking flight. That was what he loved about motorcycles - the freedom.
Driving up to the venue, Johnny took one look at the valet service and barked, “No way in hell. Only I’m parking this bike.”
You had a good laugh at that and Johnny was instructed to park his precious machine in the private spaces behind the building.
Johnny did well with you on his arm. Everyone greeted you and your date as was to be expected. You were the daughter of the founders. Though they may not have been the chief executives anymore, they still carried a lot of weight. You were also afforded respect based on your own skills. You were quite good at making money and your clients never failed to shower you with praise.
You noticed Johnny eyeing you proudly and it made you wilt. He let you have the spotlight, never speaking up except to compliment you in turn with whoever you were conversing with at the time. It was almost too much.
The smile on your face faded when an unexpected figure approached, greeting you by name.
“Hi, Nathan,” you greeted tersely. Then, you turned to your date and gripped his arm a little tighter. “This is Johnny, my boyfriend.”
Johnny took initiative, holding out his hand for Nathan to shake. Nathan, never one to appear weak or defeated, shook it as briefly as possible.
You were pleased to see Johnny had at least two inches of height advantage on Nathan. It was satisfying that the spoiled boy had to look up at someone for once.
“Ex of yours?” Johnny asked you, unbothered. He could see the way Nathan was looking at you.
You quickly corrected, “We kissed once.”
Nathan spoke up, “Sadly we were interrupted before things could get more interesting. Isn’t that right, baby?”
Your face contorted with disgust like you’d swallowed a shot of fireball. “As if I would ever go farther in a random ass closet.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Nathan jeered.
Your lips parted when you realized what he was implying. Insulted and maybe a little wounded, you were about to lash out, but Johnny squeezed your hand and beat you to the punch.
“Then, you heard wrong,” Johnny hissed coolly. “And if I were you, I would keep any more comments to myself. Your suit looks expensive. Did Daddy pay for it?”
Nathan bristled, but before he could come up with a reply, Johnny was leading you away, the two of you sporting very similar grins.
“Thank you,” you said under your breath when Nathan was out of earshot.
Johnny huffed, “Disrespectful little bitch.”
You snickered. “I can’t believe I kissed a guy like that.”
“Would you have slept with him?”
You whipped around, defensive. “God, no. I just picked him to sneak off with because his father is my Mom’s boss.”
Johnny didn’t appear judgemental; it was only his usual curiosity. His desire to understand. Even though you felt he had every right to be critical, since you were parading him around like a whore, as he put it.
“You’re really going out of your way to spite her,” Johnny murmured, his voice gentle. “Even sucking face with guys you don’t like. Is that how you feel about me?”
“No way. I like sucking your face,” you flirted, rising on your tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
Johnny smoothed a hand down your back and kissed your brow affectionately.
The two of you chatted over glasses of champagne. Johnny checked out the appetizers and found them disgusting. You felt bad that he would be going hungry and promised to buy him a burger later.
Meanwhile, you scanned the crowd between sips of your champagne. When your gaze finally landed on the object of your rage, you tapped on Johnny's shoulder and said, “My mother is here.”
Johnny started humming a very dark and ominous tune. Like you were about to walk into a haunted house together.
You chortled and elbowed him. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Your mother dropped her fake beaming smile the moment you approached her. It had been years since she’d been able to mask her perpetual disappointment around you.
“Hi, mommy dearest,” you crooned, dripping with venom and cloaking it as honey. “This is Johnny. Johnny, this is my mother.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Johnny told her stiffly.
Your mother glanced at him and then you, sneering, “What the hell do you want?”
You played coy. “To introduce you to my new boyfriend. There’s no ulterior motives here, mother.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, closing her eyes. “Just one night without you humiliating me. That’s all I asked.”
Stepping toward her, you sneered, “But Mom, I remember meeting your new boyfriends every week. Do as I say and not as I do, am I right?”
Your mother stomped away without another word, huffing about a migraine that had suddenly struck her, and made a beeline for the champagne.
Johnny’s hand felt heavy on your hip and his lips brushed your temple. “Happy?”
You shrugged. “A little.”
Johnny wasn’t convinced, but he said nothing.
When you caught sight of Victoria waving you over by the adjacent hall, you assured Johnny you would be right back. You also suggested he avoid talking to any old geezers above all costs. Johnny said he would wander near the fruit platters for a snack.
Victoria exclaimed, taking your hands when you approached her, “Shownu and I have been talking about you guys. Are you dating for real?”
“No, we’re…,” you hesitated, shifting your weight. “We’re just hanging out. Having fun. I like him. He’s good company.”
Victoria looked delighted with this turn of events, though she had already suspected as much. It pleased her that you were finally admitting it aloud. “He definitely likes you. Shownu says he talks about you nonstop,” she added, watching your face for a reaction.
Your brows lifted. “Really? What does he say?”
“Oh, gosh. That you’re gorgeous. That you’re funny and smart and chill. That you laugh at all his jokes and make him feel all mushy inside.”
You pretended to be annoyed. “Gross.”
“And that you’re a really good kisser.”
Victoria could see you were somewhere over the moon and teased, “Basically, things you already knew.”
You tucked some hair behind your ear and began shyly, “Yeah, but coming from him.”
“You’re happy.”
You whined, “Shut up.”
“I’m sorry,” she sang, hugging you tightly. “I just haven’t seen you happy about a boy in a long, long time.”
“Or ever,” you deadpanned.
Meanwhile, Johnny was silent when your mother cornered him by a table.
“I don’t know the nature of your relationship with my daughter, but I can take a wild guess that it’s distasteful. I will pay you considerable money to stop seeing her.”
Johnny narrowed his eyes at the obvious snake that had just slithered into his path. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he replied, “With all due respect, I am not for sale.”
Your eyes widened when you saw the two of them together and you walked toward Johnny with hurried steps. Victoria grimaced and whispered an apology for making you leave your date unattended.
“Every man is for sale, name your price,” your mother hissed.
Johnny met your eyes as you came to stand beside him and seeing your unadulterated rage, he spoke up before you could tell your mother off, “It was a pleasure meeting you. I will be taking your daughter home now.” His attention turned back to you and his voice was sharp, “Say goodbye to your mother. No snark.”
“Bye, Mom,” you said obediently.
Your mother set her jaw, but even she noticed this was the first time a man seemed to have you on a tight leash.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
“Good girl,” Johnny told you once he had cleared the door.
It took you a moment to realize that Johnny had stopped you from lashing out at your mother in anger. Part of you was furious. The other was rather satisfied.
Johnny straddled his bike and fired up the engine. You clambered on behind him, the two of you pulling on your helmets in sync, and smiled when he grabbed your arms and wrapped them tightly around his waist as he always did.
“Your place or mine?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the low notes of his voice and the intention behind his words. “Mine,” you answered without hesitation.
Johnny turned onto the main road and eased into traffic.
The sight of your condo sent shivers down your spine. It would be the first time Johnny had actually come inside. Up to that point, he’d been walking you to the front door, kissing you goodnight, and then heading home like an insufferable gentleman.
“Fancy,” Johnny announced when he stepped into your living room.
You closed the front door behind him and kicked off your shoes. Johnny mirrored you, then followed you into the kitchen.
“Wine?” you asked.
As you poured two glasses from the bottle in your fridge, you joked, “You survived your first shareholder’s dinner. How was it?”
“Boring as fuck,” Johnny retorted, spinning the wine in his glass before taking a sip. “I can see why you hate it.”
You put the cup to your lips, never taking your eyes off him as the liquid hit your tongue. You smacked your lips together and leaned against the counter. “You don’t like how I behave around my mother.”
Johnny didn’t back down. “I just don’t see how it helps you.”
“It makes me feel better to piss her off.”
“Does it?” he questioned, skeptical.
You simmered. “What did she say to you?”
Johnny took another sip of his wine. “She offered me money to leave you.”
You scoffed. The nerve of her. Just when you thought it wasn’t possible to hate her more. “How much?” you asked, trying to hide just how much that hurt.
“I don’t know. I told her I wasn’t for sale.”
You cocked your head. His answer and the confidence with which he said it made a spark ignite within your chest. “She’s got a lot of money. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” You were testing him.
“I like you,” Johnny said somberly, whispering your name. “Every time I’m with you, I like you even more.”
You flushed, biting your lip and glancing down. There he went, throwing you off balance all over again.
Johnny stepped around the counter, reaching for your hips and pulling you toward him. When you didn’t look at him, he slipped his fingers beneath your chin and tilted your head up. “Want me to take the money and run?” he asked. Though his tone was serious, you could tell by the desire in his eyes that he would never.
You shook your head.
“Tell me you want me.”
You blinked up at him. “Why - so you can turn me down again?”
Johnny crowded closer to you. You had never felt so small. He spoke your name under his breath and said a little firmer this time, “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” you replied impatiently. The tension in the room was so thick it was getting harder to breathe. You wanted to leap into his arms. You wanted to kiss him hard and rough.
Johnny leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, his fingers still tucked beneath your jaw. It was slow and steady, just as you knew him to be, and you brought your arms to wrap around his neck.
Your heart was bursting. Your body was on a cloud, soaring higher and higher away. This was such a dangerous sensation. No one had ever made you feel like this. What kind of connection was forming between you and Johnny?
Johnny grabbed your thighs and hauled you up, steering your legs around his waist. You kissed him a little heavier now, humming into his mouth and threading your fingers into his hair. He only walked for a moment - just to the other side of the kitchen - and sat you down on the edge of the dining table.
You were insatiable; sucking on his tongue in your mouth and tightening your arms and legs around him. Johnny was content to indulge you, roaming his hands around your body, his every touch driving you mad. His long fingers pressed into your back, holding you flush against him.
The room filled with the sounds of your heated makeout session and your occasional soft moans. Your heart was thumping at a faster but steady rhythm and your head felt light. Then, Johnny deepened the kiss and the mood shifted.
His hands left your body long enough for him to shrug out of his blazer and let it fall to the floor. You didn’t hesitate to begin unfastening his buttons, fingers working as quickly as they could. Johnny untucked his shirt from the waistband of his pants to make it easier for you before gathering your dress in his hands. He hiked up the gown until the material gathered around your hips, exposing your soft thighs.
Johnny glanced down and hummed his approval, hooking his fingers in the garters attached to your stockings and letting them snap back against your skin. “Fuck you,” he growled lowly.
You made a noise of surprise. “What? Why?”
“Wearing this sexy shit,” Johnny said, even deeper. His lips were on your neck in an instant, his voice rumbling in your ear, “Bad girl.”
“I promise, it wasn’t on purpose,” you crooned, but you were all too satisfied at getting under his skin and turning him on. You ripped the last of his buttons and stripped off his shirt, mouth watering at his hard chest and chiseled abs. You raked your fingertips over his muscles and licked your lips, eyes burning with unbridled lust.
The kisses devolved into hurried clashes of teeth and tongues. Johnny eventually gave you one little parting kiss on the corner of your mouth and planted a hand between your breasts, shoving you back. You landed on the table with a quiet thud and cried out in surprise, reaching for him.
Johnny pawed under your dress and found your panties, tangling them in his fists before ripping them with ease. You gasped, eyes focusing on the ceiling above in an attempt to distract yourself from the throbbing between your legs. Johnny grabbed your thigh, hooking your knee on his hip, and met his clothed crotch to your wet folds, grinding against you.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
“Feel that?”
If he meant the very hard bulge in his pants, the answer was an obvious yes. You lifted your head, watching him unbuckle his belt and fell back on the table again. “Hurry up,” you whined, yanking at the straps of your gown and tugging down your bra, freeing your breasts.
Johnny pushed his pants down until they were pooled around his ankles, his hard cock twitching at the sight of you laid bare and waiting in front of him. He pumped himself in his fist as his eyes wandered over the garters on your thighs to your perfect breasts and finally back to your glistening folds. Fuck, you turned him on so much it was insane.
“Johnny,” you sighed and reached for him again.
At some point of undressing, Johnny had fished a condom from his pocket and tore the packet open with his teeth, rolling it down his shaft. You watched him, swallowing the lump in your throat at the view of his impressive length, and resisted the urge to hide behind your hands.
Johnny grabbed your hips and slid his cock against your folds, teasing his member through your slit. You groaned with impatience, locking your ankles behind his back and spreading your thighs further apart.
“Say you want it,” Johnny huffed, pressing the head of his cock into your entrance, but pulling back just as quickly.
“I want it,” you purred, wrapping your fingers around his wrists as he kept a punishing hold on your hips.
“Beg me.”
Pride? You didn’t know her. She was dead and buried.
There was only the fire coursing through your veins and the borderline painful ache in the core of your body, begging to be filled. And there was only Johnny, who stared at you like he’d never seen someone so beautiful.
“Please, fuck me,” you whispered, as demure as you could be. “Please, Johnny.”
Johnny threw any more teasing aside and rewarded you, fitting his cock into your entrance and slowly penetrating you with every agonizing inch of him. Your back arched off the table and you let out a moan as your walls stretched around his girth, thighs quivering. Johnny groaned in the back of his throat and bit his bottom lip.
You cried out when he began to thrust, hips drawing back and meeting yours with a hard slap. His pace was drawn out and rough, jostling you on the table without mercy. You panted and gaped every time he hit that deep sweet spot inside you, trying desperately to find purchase on whatever you could reach.
Johnny wanted to praise you, but he chose to be sparing. It was no secret he could feel how much you liked his dominance, how you bent to his will. Your raspy noises of pleasure were threatening to ruin him.
You let your hands fall at your sides, completely submissive. This was new to you. You had always been in control. To boys, you were an entity that answered to no one and feared nothing, assertive and domineering. You knew exactly what you wanted and exactly how to get it. You took what you needed and left them swearing you were the best they ever had.
Now, you were at someone else’s mercy. Someone who took his pleasure from your body and left you reeling. This was the sensation of power you’d come to know, but now you were on the other end of it.
And it was mind-blowing.
You bent your legs, toes curling. You were so aroused, dripping with desire. There was a wet clap when Johnny impaled you on his length.
Johnny gathered your hands above your head and pinned them with his own. Then, with his free hand, he fisted your hair at the back of your head and exposed your neck for his teeth and tongue.
“Johnny,” you choked out.
“You take that cock so good, baby,” he said darkly, biting down on the sensitive flesh beneath your ear.
You moaned.
When he’d had his fill of marking up your neck, Johnny abandoned your hands and kneaded your breasts before his fingers coiled around your throat and pinned you to the table.
You scraped your nails over the surface, eyes rolling back in your head. His pace came faster and faster, like he wanted to fuck you until there was nothing left. You shifted your hips and flexed your thighs, trying to slow the pleasure. It was too much too soon. You could feel release flooding through you, burning down your spine and scorching up your legs to the apex of your thighs where it threatened to spill over.
Johnny squeezed his hand around your throat, cutting off your exhale, and it broke you. You cried out and shuddered with climax, walls clamping around his length as it throttled inside you, never slowing for a second. Johnny slacked his grip on your throat and smirked down at you with twisted delight.
“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” you begged, moaning through the rest of your high. Your hips were moving of their own accord, matching his rhythm. Your breaths were loud and labored, like you couldn’t get enough air, and you slumped onto the table as the last of your orgasm faded.
Johnny withdrew his still hard cock from you, surveying his handiwork with a smug little grin, and palmed your soaked sex with his broad hand. “I can’t decide if I want to come on your ass or in your mouth,” he taunted after a pause.
That had your attention. You snapped out of your daze and sat up on your elbows, peering at him with hooded eyes. “Are you clean?”
Johnny’s fingers were still playing with your dripping pussy, teasing over your swollen clit. Your body instinctively shied away, sensitive from orgasm, but you didn’t tell him to stop. “Yes,” he said.
“Then, take the condom off.”
Johnny arched a brow, but lust clouded over his face. “Ask me nicely.”
“Please, come in my fucking mouth,” you told him gruffly, laving your tongue over your teeth for effect.
Johnny removed the condom and you rolled to your stomach on the table, bringing your head to the edge. You reached for him and took his girthy cock in your hands, squeezing your grip around the head. Johnny didn’t let you play for long, batting your hands away and carding his fingers into your hair.
You opened your mouth and let his stiff cock in, wrapping your lips around the base as he wasted no time in pushing to the back of your throat. You choked at first, but willed yourself to relax. The throbbing between your legs was back and you did all you could to ignore it, focusing on the raspy groans falling from Johnny’s lips as he fucked your mouth.
“Like that,” Johnny sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. You hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue to the bottom of his shaft, swallowing around him for good measure.
A moan left you when Johnny grabbed your arms and overlapped them behind your back, his fingers pressing into your flesh. You wiggled your hips, wishing he would do something for the ache in your core, but you could tell by his erratic pace that he was close to the finish.
Johnny was careful not to hurt you, but the warmth of your mouth and the moans sending vibrations through his cock were too much. He prided himself on his control, but you were making short work of him.
You slacked your jaw and let him thrust into your mouth until he came with a sharp cry, hips stilling as his release painted the back of your tongue. You did your best to swallow him down, but a mixture of saliva and cum dripped from your lips and to the floor.
Johnny pulled away, releasing your arms at long last, and braced his hands on the table, steadying himself. You sat up, wiping your mouth and dabbing at your eyes. Smears from your makeup dirtied your fingertips. Johnny almost chuckled; the two of you were panting in sync with each other, heavy breaths echoing in the silence of your house.
“Oh, no,” you suddenly said.
Johnny looked up, panicked. “What?”
“The sex is good.”
Johnny snorted, rolling his eyes that you had made him worry for nothing. “What were you expecting?”
You slid off the table and stood on wobbly legs. “Good sex, but…,” you trailed. “There’s good sex and then there’s that sex.”
“Ironically, I know exactly what you mean.”
You nonchalantly stripped out of your dress and underwear, finally naked like him. 
Johnny’s eyes fixated to your body. “Wanna go to bed?”
“You… want to spend the night?” you asked curiously, hoping he would.
“Yeah,” he replied with a nod. That had been the plan from the start. “Is that weird?”
“No, it’s… never mind.” You lowered your head in embarrassment.
Johnny realized why that had thrown you off guard. It meant you slept alone more often than not. That thought saddened him and to compensate, he swept you into his arms without warning and carried you bridal style.
You yelped in surprise, but the biggest smile took over your face.
“Which way is the bedroom?”
You pointed at the far door. “That way!”
When you woke up the next morning in Johnny’s burly arms, you knew everything had changed between you and him.
The two of you began spending any spare moment with each other, making time to meet during the week despite your hellish work schedules. Not long after, you slept at his house more often than your own.
You found Johnny’s little home to be rather cozy. It was a stark opposite to yours. Your condo was cold and uninviting, with dark grey color schemes and chrome accents. Your walls were decorated with generic photographs of foreign cities you’d yet to visit.
Johnny’s house was warm. Pictures of him and his family lined the mantles. You could see him growing from baby to child to teenager before your eyes. It was like his mother took photos of him every day of his life.
His couches were plush. He kept thick, fluffy blankets everywhere. And Johnny notoriously left hoodies scattered around. It was a pleasant surprise to find that the man who left the house in black leather always slept in adorable sweaters.
Pretty soon, you were wearing them too. Johnny’s scent lingered on you wherever you went. When you were at work, you counted down the minutes until the day was done and you could leave to find Johnny on his motorcycle waiting for you out front.
Johnny still kept his end of the bargain, accompanying you to events though you had mostly forgotten why. There was a Sunday brunch at the country club you were required to attend and to your horror, your mother was polite and borderline pleasant to your boyfriend.
Though she did chew you out for wearing ripped jeans and a charcoal leather vest (to match your boyfriend’s ensemble, of course) when semi-formal attire was expected at the pretentious club. Not to mention, she was livid to find you kissing Johnny on the veranda just out of sight from the prospective new clients.
“I hope I didn’t get you in too much trouble,” Johnny said after the fact, on his back in bed.
You straddled his hips and took off your shirt, tossing it across the room. “That’s kind of the point,” you reminded, joking.
Johnny cupped your naked breasts and kneaded them in his palms. “I couldn’t help myself,” he continued, voice staggering when you sank down on his hard cock. “You looked so beautiful. I just had to kiss you.”
“You can kiss me anytime you want, whenever and wherever you want, Johnny,” you told him shakily, releasing a labored breath as you began to ride him. “I’m so into you.”
“Technically, I’m into you right now,” Johnny smarted, gliding his hands down your body and clamping them on your hips. You felt so good on his raw dick, no more barriers between you and him. He’d been pleased when you told him you were on the pill, but it wasn’t until the two of you agreed to be exclusive that you told him he could forgo the condoms.
“Shut up,” you barked, though a giggle escaped you.
Johnny kept quiet after that, but not because you told him to. You rode him lazily at first, bouncing up and down on his cock before grinding into him again and again. It wasn’t often he let you top him and you were making the most of it.
“Fuck,” you hissed not long after, picking up your pace as the familiar knot began to tighten in the pit of your stomach.
Johnny reeled his hands back and slapped your ass. “Fuck me.”
You sped up at the sting and pressed your fingers into his muscly chest, lashes fluttering at just how deep he was inside you. Your hips rolled back and forth, using his thick cock to get yourself off.
When your moans pitched higher and your breaths began to catch in your throat, Johnny gripped your ass a little harder, steering your movements, and growled, “Ask me.”
“Please, can I come?”
You gasped, opening your mouth to complain, but never got the chance. Johnny got a solid grip on your jaw, the other in your hair, and began thrusting his hips up to meet you, slamming his cock into your wet cunt. You cried out for mercy and held onto his shoulders for dear life.
“Now, you can,” Johnny said, dominant. “Come for me.”
Your eyes winched shut and your lips parted in a silent scream. At the height of your orgasm, Johnny turned over with you in his arms, laying you on your back and ramming his cock into your tight pussy. You chanted curses and shivered with overstimulation, telling Johnny he was a bastard for fucking you as hard as he did. And how much you loved it.
Johnny chuckled, pinning you to the mattress under his weight.
It took all of your energy to clean up in the bathroom and it didn’t even cross your mind to put on clothes. You crawled back into bed completely exhausted, resting your head on Johnny’s shoulder and hooking a leg over his waist, and fell asleep in a matter of seconds.
More time passed.
Things between you and Johnny began to settle. You weren’t always racing to the bedroom anymore, though you almost always ended up there, but now there were quieter moments. A steadier rhythm to your days spent with him.
It was comfortable. Which was such a foreign feeling to you. Never had you known what it was like to go home to someone, but you liked what it did for the state of your heart.
Johnny accompanied you to another dinner and your mother remained tolerant of his presence. You were highly suspicious, but didn’t rock the boat. Mainly because Johnny continued to remind you to be on your best behavior.
He was becoming less and less inclined to enable you. When you wanted to lash out at your mother or do something spiteful, Johnny wouldn’t let you. At first you bucked a little and there were one or two small arguments about it, but at the end of the day, you surrendered.
You liked listening to Johnny. You liked letting him lead you. It took a weight off your shoulders that you had come to live with, crushing you down. Though the urge to do something destructive as a desperate cry of attention to your mother surfaced from time to time, you found Johnny’s affection was more than enough to stifle that need.
You had inadvertently slipped into a mold that you never thought would fit you. You - submissive to a man? How insane.
Yet here you were.
Johnny convinced you to take time off from work to go on a little couple’s getaway for Christmas. You figured keeping you from your parents over the holidays was the main goal, but he never brought them up. The two of you spent a week in a resort covered in snow, sipping hot chocolate by the fire and sharing woolly blankets.
You welcomed New Years by kissing Johnny at the stroke of midnight and he not so subtly asked you to make a tradition out of it. Not thinking, too drunk from how he made you feel, you promised to begin every New Year by kissing him.
It seemed you blinked and February was upon you. Johnny’s birthday was marked in big colorful letters on your calendar.
Johnny was delivering an energetic summary of the Battle of Midway in World War II when a knock rang out in his classroom. “Come in,” he called, slightly perturbed by the interruption.
You were the last person he expected to see entering the room.
“Hi,” you said shyly. “I’m here to deliver these.”
In your hands was a vase full of flowers, an assortment of yellow and white.
Johnny turned a dark shade of crimson and his face was sporting the biggest smile to date, a smile so big his eyes scrunched. A number of giggles erupted in the classroom, which only made Johnny’s grin brighter.
“Happy Birthday,” you announced sweetly.
“Thank you,” he said, undeniably bashful and touched, and took the vase from your outstretched hands. “Class, this is my…,” Johnny quickly stopped himself, clearing his throat. He recovered smoothly by telling everyone your name.
A few of the students said hello or waved, and you greeted them kindly.
“You could have told me you were coming,” Johnny whispered under his breath.
You teased, “Where’s the fun in that?”
The two of you kept leaning toward each other, like gravity had taken residence between your bodies, before catching yourselves and sharply moving away. Johnny wanted so badly to kiss you he didn’t know what to do with himself.
Never in his life had Johnny Suh been this awkward. But he was constantly reminded that there were more than a dozen teenage eyes watching his every move.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” you told the students, then turned back to Johnny. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”
“What’s for dinner?” a girl near the front asked with innocent curiosity.
“Steak,” you replied, flashing a grin.
A few collective oohs rang out in the classroom.
You gave Johnny a brief wink. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you.”
After that, Johnny stared wistfully at the clock on the wall, counting down the seconds until he saw you again. His students were thrilled that he let them spend the rest of their class reviewing their notes. But mostly goofing around. Johnny was distracted.
You drove to his house at six and, of course, rode his motorcycle together to the steakhouse. Johnny once again tried to argue with you about letting him cover the bill, but you would hear none of it. You’d made the reservation and put your credit card down, so he just needed to stuff it and enjoy his meal.
“This is the only occasion you’re allowed to pay,” Johnny said, accepting defeat as he tapped his beer against your glass in a toast.
“It’s your birthday, Johnny. Just try to relax, my insufferable dom.”
Johnny smirked, arching a brow, and slid his leg forward between your knees.
After a night out on the town, the two of you stumbled into his house, leaving a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom.
When you woke during the night, you were alone. Turning over, you glanced at the clock on the nightstand and grimaced to see it was half past two. You clambered out of bed and noticed Johnny’s shirt near your feet. Slipping into the white tee, you smiled to find yourself drowning in it. The soft material draped off your shoulder and stopped halfway down your thighs, reminding you just how small you were compared to your lover.
Peering into the living room, you folded your arms and leaned against the doorframe. Johnny sported black-rimmed glasses and twirled a red pen between his fingers. His face was pensive as he read from a stack of papers, biting his lip as he tended to when he was deep in concentration.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Johnny asked, clicking his pen.
You shot back softly, “Why aren’t you?”
Johnny glanced up, flushing at the gorgeous sight of you disheveled and wearing only his shirt, and replied, “I need to grade these papers.”
“Only you could make school look sexy.”
Johnny chortled.
Since he was sitting cross-legged on the floor as he used the coffee table, you sat on the sofa behind him and wrapped your legs around his torso. Johnny smoothed a hand down your bare knee and jotted notes down on the page.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you asked curiously, “Do you really like teaching? Or do you just like having summers off?”
Johnny answered with fondness, “I love teaching. I knew I wanted to be a teacher when I was a kid.”
You smiled affectionately. “I bet your students pick you as their favorite teacher.”
Johnny blushed even redder at the compliment. He wasn’t used to being praised for a job most people considered unimportant. “World History is boring,” he admitted. “I know it is, but I try to make it relevant to them. That’s why I chose to teach history in the first place. If we don’t learn from it, we are doomed to repeat its mistakes.”
Just when you thought you couldn’t possibly like him more, he said things like that. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
Johnny flirted, “You’re biased, because you think I’m sexy.”
You tightened your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Both can be true.”
Johnny turned slightly and looked at you with sparkles in his eyes. “You look tired,” he crooned, stroking a finger over your cheek. “You should go back to bed.”
You whined, “Promise you won’t stay up all night.”
“I’ll crawl in eventually.”
You bit your lip, heart speeding up with an idea. “Will you… do something for me?”
Johnny laced his fingers through yours and whispered, “Anything. Name it.”
“In the morning, I wanna wake up with you inside me.”
His eyes widened a little. “Oh?”
You nodded, quite shy. “I trust you, Johnny. You have my permission. Please?”
“I’ll think about it,” he lied playfully. He had your consent and you said please. It was happening.
You smiled, then got to your feet, sauntering to the bedroom and giving him a wink before vanishing inside.
It didn’t matter how late he stayed up, Johnny always woke early. At first, he stretched a little and checked his phone, but eventually he found himself on his side, head propped on his hand as he studied you.
You looked so peaceful; Johnny felt guilty as hell that he was about to rouse you. But he hadn’t forgotten your request.
I wanna wake up with you inside me.
Johnny was on fire. It was melting him from the inside out. Excitement ripped down his spine. His cock was at attention, twitching with arousal. Johnny sidled closer and pecked a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then, he nudged carefully until you were flat on your back.
Gingerly, Johnny moved away the pillows and blankets until it was just you and him overtop the sheets. You were still wearing his white tee from before and when Johnny spread your legs, he smirked to find you weren’t wearing underwear.
Johnny brought two fingers to his mouth and swiped them with his tongue. He cupped your sex, rolling your clit with his thumb, and pushed the pair of digits inside your pussy, shaking his head to find you warm and tight.
You made the tiniest of sounds, like a little sigh. Johnny’s eyes were on your blissful face while fingers pumped in and out of your folds. He wondered if you were still sore from last night and the rough birthday sex.
When you shifted, Johnny withdrew his fingers. He didn’t want you to wake up until he was sheathed to the hilt inside. Deeming you more than wet enough, he kneeled between your thighs and gathered your hips in his hands.
Your face tensed when he penetrated you, even in sleep. Johnny let out a quiet moan, eyes fluttering closed at the scalding heat of you wrapped around him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, palming your soft thighs and gripping your knees. He arched his hips forward, sinking in and out of you languidly, and made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat.
Your lips parted. Somehow, you were lingering in that place between asleep and awake, but you could hear the wet squelch of your body accepting him deep and the tiny clap of his hips meeting yours.
Heat radiated up your neck and behind your cheeks. Your heart was picking up speed. Pleasure unfurled in the core of your body. You knew in that moment Johnny was fucking you, his cock buried in your pussy.
Johnny propped himself on his fists over you, stroking his length into you at a firmer pace and making the bed creak. He couldn’t get over how beautiful you looked underneath him, but he was ready for you to wake up.
With a hard thrust, your eyes flashed open. You instinctively threw your hands out, sinking your fingertips into Johnny’s thick arms.
“It’s me,” Johnny coaxed at the sight of your startled eyes.
You instantly relaxed, the little jolt of adrenaline leaving you as quickly as it had come, and threaded your fingers into his hair. But then, you stiffened for an entirely different reason. Johnny was hard and deep in the pit of your stomach, rutting his cock into you so good your lips parted to moan.
“You like that, baby?” he teased, leaning in to steal a wet kiss. “You like waking up on my dick?”
You hummed as his tongue slipped into your mouth and let your hands cascade down his back until they settled on his hips. Johnny broke from your lips to meet your eyes, watching you expectantly. You almost couldn’t hold his stare, but you dared not look away. “You’re so deep,” you whimpered. “Fuck.”
“This is what you wanted, right?”
You nodded. Never had you trusted someone with your body like this.
Johnny sat up and bent your legs toward you. “Even when you were asleep, this pussy grabbed me tight,” he growled, slamming his hips into you a little harder. Obviously pleased with himself. “Say you love it.”
“I love it,” you replied without missing a beat, like you had no thought in your head except how good he felt inside you. Which wasn’t far from the truth. Johnny was well-versed in fucking you stupid.
Your lover kissed you again, a reward for giving him the answer he wanted.
The lazy morning love-making lasted much longer than you expected. Johnny was in no hurry to finish. By the time he had coaxed you to orgasm, you were begging him to fill you. Your body was like an exposed nerve, sensitive from his touches and kisses and rough pace.
When he’d finished inside you with a moan, Johnny didn’t pull away. He stayed in your arms and between your legs, staring down at you in wonder. You loved seeing him like this - sweaty and panting, the fire calming down inside his eyes. You pulled him close to you and pressed your lips to his before guiding his head to lay on your chest.
Euphoria seemed to follow you both around for the rest of the day. Though it shattered when you received a foul text of warning from your mother. You had planned to spend his entire birthday weekend just the two of you together.
Sidling into bed next to Johnny, you told him, “I, uh, the dinner has been moved up to tomorrow night and… my father will be there.”
Johnny turned to you. His stare was heavy. “Oh.”
You quickly explained, “He’s been abroad until now.”
“I see.”
“You don’t have to go. I can fly solo this time.” It was a chore to force those words out. More than anything, you wanted Johnny at your side. Actually, you wanted to hide behind him.
Johnny spoke up, “I want to go with you.” He wanted to meet your father. And exchange some words with him.
You exhaled heavily. Instincts told you to keep him at home, but you were malleable, love drunk on his body and how he made you feel, so in the end, you didn’t argue.
Johnny donned a suit and you wore a black dress. The neckline was on the conservative side; a far cry from your usual style choice. But you felt you had no one to impress or attract. Johnny had already spent most of the weekend seeing you naked.
Even as the two of you walked into the banquet hall, your eyes lingered on him, knowing there were many, many bruises hidden from view on his chest. He was marked up in evidence of your passion. And maybe possession. You liked the idea of him being yours.
As you mingled, a few of the clients called Johnny by name, which made you smile with delight. They were beginning to accept his presence at these extravagant dinners. Johnny was also fitting in. He was great at bullshitting his way through conversations, pretending he had a grasp of what the hell you were talking about.
It took all of your strength not to giggle at him sometimes.
“Shorting stocks has nothing to do with length, baby,” you whispered as the two of you moved toward the punch bowls.
“Girth, then?” he smarted.
You burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand, the other tucked to the crook of his elbow. Johnny held his head high, pleased with himself.
Your smile faded and all the light seemed to be sucked out of the room when a figure crossed your path, marching up to you and Johnny and greeting you by name.
The words that followed were like venom on your tongue, “Johnny, this is my father.”
Johnny shook his outstretched hand firmly. “I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, but that would be a lie.”
Your eyes widened at his boldness, but your thighs pressed together. That should not have turned you on as badly as it did.
Little did you know, Johnny was seething. The pitiful excuse of a man before him had earned his ire and disgust before he’d even had the chance to lay eyes on him. You had been very forthcoming with Johnny and he couldn’t grasp how much loneliness and pain you’d come to know because of this man.
The one man in your life that was supposed to love and protect you. Always.
Johnny decided weeks ago that he would have to pick up the slack, take up the mantle. If he had his way, you and your father would never be in the same room again after this.
“My daughter’s been saying mean things about me, has she? I’m devastated.”
Johnny tensed at your side. You could feel his anger like a physical force gathering strength to explode.
“Clearly,” you deadpanned, then tugged on Johnny’s arm. “Let’s get food.”
Your father spoke up, “Why don’t you leave your boyfriend here with me for a moment? Give us a chance to get to know each other.”
It was a more than welcome idea to Johnny. He set his jaw.
You stepped forward, protecting Johnny like a shield. “No way in hell,” you told your father bluntly, squeezing Johnny’s hand and pulling him away with you.
Once out of earshot, Johnny lowered his voice and brought his lips to your ear to whisper, “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll tell him that his daughter calls me Daddy?”
Johnny had no choice but to tease you. He couldn’t let you know how angry he was, how close he had been to planting your father into the fucking ground. Humor would hopefully hide his wrath.
“He’s pure evil, Johnny,” you said icily, rounding on him. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
Johnny could see the fading terror in your eyes and he softened. He stopped and steered you into his arms, stroking a thumb across your cheek. “Hey, it’s my job to protect you.”
You planted your feet and peered up at him, matching his fervor. “In the bedroom, you can dominate me all you want, but out here in the rest of the world, we are equals and we protect each other.”
Johnny searched your face for a moment and found no sign of weakness. A heavy realization washed over him that he had developed very real, very serious feelings for you. “Fair enough,” he finally relented. “But keep looking at me like that and we’ll have to leave early.”
You smirked. “We could leave right now and I couldn’t care less.”
“No, you have to mingle. Your job is on the line.”
“Fuck that job.”
Johnny laughed, but gave you a gentle pat on the ass, nudging you forward. You drifted away from him, heading toward more of your clients to greet them, but glancing over your shoulder to see if Johnny was still watching you.
You tried to discuss the latest earnings report with them, but your eyes kept flitting to Johnny. You had to make sure he was safe. Only when your father appeared at your side were you forced to focus.
Your father stole you away with a hand on your arm, which you endured. Though your body’s first reflex had been to yank free, you dared not make a scene in front of your clients. Only a few months ago, you would have gladly caused a fuss.
“Your mother tells me this boy of yours has lasted quite a while by your standards.”
You sneered. “What does that mean?”
“Should I expect grandchildren any time soon?” your father asked silkily.
“I’m on the pill,” you murmured for his ears alone. “The only one getting knocked up around here is your newest girlfriend.”
Your father laughed and the sound was cold, menacing even. He tipped his head to the waiter passing by and demanded another glass of champagne.
Johnny was watching carefully, prepared to intervene. Everything in your body language screamed that you were uncomfortable and went to great lengths to hide it. Then, Johnny suddenly felt someone at his side and turned to see your mother.
“You’ve had a positive effect on my daughter.”
Johnny afforded her no glances and turned his attention back to you, chuffing, “Have I?”
Your mother explained in hushed tones, “Since she began seeing you, I haven’t gotten a single drunken voicemail from her. Nor has she been dropped off at my door in the early hours of the morning after a night of bad decisions.”
Johnny was blunt. “What’s your point?”
Your mother angled to him. “You’ve calmed her down. How long do you think that will last? Actually, let me cut to the chase - how long do you plan on sticking around? I’m now willing to compensate you if you remain in her life.”
Between the audacity of that comment and the sight of you cowering before your father, Johnny was consumed by rage. He finally faced her, assertive. “You’re welcome.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
Johnny folded his arms and snapped, “For doing your goddamn job in the first place. You’re her mother, for Christ’s sake. You’re the one supposed to calm her down, as you put it. It’s your fault she spent so many nights getting fucked up.”
Your mother looked like she’d been slapped across the face. “How dare you talk to me like…”
Johnny cut her off, “My parents would have dragged me out of every party. They would have never let me torture myself just for a chance to get their attention. She didn’t ask to be brought into this world. The least you could have done was show her just a moment of love so she wouldn’t be spending every second of her life looking for it elsewhere.”
Your mother stared him down, lips pursed.
Johnny knew he was wasting his breath and walked away with a disappointed shake of his head. That was when he noticed your father had his hand wrapped tightly around your arm, too tight. These fucking people, he thought.
You breathed in relief when Johnny approached, but you frowned when you saw the glare he was sporting. He appeared downright furious.
Johnny leered over your father and hissed, “Take your hand off of her. Now.”
Your father didn’t let go, glancing at Johnny like a bug had just landed on his shoulder. But given the way Johnny leered over him and looked a heartbeat away from breathing fire, he let his hand fall from your arm.
“Johnny,” you started unsurely.
“Get your coat. We’re leaving.”
“Okay.” You nodded without a second thought, grabbing your coat off the back of your nearby chair and following him toward the exit.
The entire ride back to your house, you could feel the tension. It was smothering. The usual warmth of Johnny’s body you’d come to know felt even hotter. He may have even been shaking. Or that was just the vibration of the motorcycle.
When he parked in your driveway, you made toward the front door, but Johnny stopped you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly.
Johnny exhaled. “I need to cool off for a minute.”
You were filled with regret and rubbed his shoulder, silently consoling him.
Johnny plopped down on the top stair of your front porch and rubbed his hands together. You naturally took the spot at his side. “I gave your mother a piece of my mind,” he finally told you.
“Oh,” you said, smiling wryly. “Would you like a blow job?”
“I’m being serious.”
Your heart sank and you got to your feet, wrapping your arms around yourself awkwardly. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you said nothing.
Johnny gazed up at you, full of tension. “I think you should forgive your parents.”
You stiffened, eyes narrowing. “You think I should forgive my parents,” you repeated the words back to him slowly. You wanted him to hear how ridiculous they sounded.
That was, without a doubt, the most foul idea you’d ever heard. Forgive them? After everything they had put you through, the hell they’d dragged you in? You were seething.
Johnny didn’t take the hint and simply replied, “Yes.”
You folded your arms and your voice was hostile. “The relationship I have with my parents is none of your business.”
“It is my business,” Johnny countered roughly. “Because your relationship with them is directly affecting your relationship with me.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” you snapped cruelly, though you knew it was a lie. You’d known for some time.
Johnny gawked at you in disbelief and leapt to his feet, towering over you. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve said and done. You may not want to admit it, but we mean something to each other.”
You shook your head vehemently. You were filled from head to toe with contempt, drowning in it. “You don’t understand. You will never understand, Johnny!”
Johnny bristled. He was getting angry. Your aggression toward him was misplaced; he was only trying to help you and you were lashing out at him. Your refusal to admit that he meant anything to you was wounding him deep. “Then explain it to me,” he snapped, refusing to back down. “Make me understand.”
You scoffed. “How could you? You were born with two parents that love you and love each other. You grew up safe and secure, and loved. You’re whole. You’re fucking perfect!”
Johnny sighed. He knew where this was going.
You yelled at the top of your lungs, “I’m broken!”
“You’re not,” he interjected.
“I will always be broken,” you cried, as if you hadn’t heard him. “I was born, bred and raised that way. There is no hope for me to be any different.”
Johnny’s anger evaporated. He felt nothing but pity and sadness toward you. His heart was aching in his chest as he replied gently, “Forgiveness isn’t for them. It’s for you. Until you forgive them, you’ll never move on. You’ll never grow or heal.”
You shook with rage, hands clenching into fists. Did he really think something so impossible for you was that easy? Gritting your teeth, you spat, “I never asked you to fix me, because I know you can’t. No one can!”
“You can. That’s what I’m trying to tell you if you would just listen for a goddamn second to someone other than yourself,” Johnny chided, grabbing your arms but careful not to hurt you. “You can be more than this!”
“I can’t.”
“Have you ever tried?”
You tore yourself out of his grasp and stepped back, putting distance between you and him. “If this is how it’s going to be, you pushing me to deal with feelings that I buried a long time ago, then I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Johnny’s face filled with panic and his heart promptly vacated his chest. He reached for you again and stammered, “Baby, don’t do this.”
Tears burned your eyes, but you held them back. You were good at that after years of practice. “Goodbye, Johnny.”
Watching you walk away, Johnny called out, “I love you.”
You rooted in place like you’d just been struck by lightning. Maybe you weren’t as strong as you thought you were, because the tears fell from your eyes before you could stop them. Turning around, you sobbed, “No, you don’t. You can’t.”
Seeing your eyes broke him. “Why can’t I?”
“Because I resent the hell out of you,” you cried, wiping at your tears roughly. “You are everything I ever wanted.”
Johnny shook his head in reproach. He hated how you made him feel in that moment. “That’s cruel,” he murmured. “I don’t deserve that.”
“I know you don’t. You’re better off without me,” you told him, colder than the night air wrapping around you both.
Johnny shrugged. Anger numbed him to his pain for the moment. “If that’s how you feel.”
“It is.”
Johnny lingered, wavering where he stood. He was at war with himself and this battle had wounded him. Ultimately, he chose to let go and walk away.
You watched him mount the bike and speed into the distance. For a minute, you simply stood there. Your heart was screaming. Don’t leave me.
Crawling into bed, you lay on your back and stared at the ceiling. Empty. It was an all too familiar feeling. The months of happiness made you forget just how crippling the pain had been.
You hated Johnny; hated him for seeing you in ways you would never see. He didn’t see the scars and the glaring insecurities. He saw only the good, only the potential. And you hated him for it.
He would never be able to fill the void your parents had created. He deserved someone better than you. Your heart may have been big, but it was empty.
I love you. He said it with so much conviction. Like you could hear his heart breaking when the words left his mouth. Was this how it felt to be loved by someone? It was a different kind of pain, but a pain nonetheless.
Johnny spent the next few nights convincing himself that he hated you. He told you he loved you and you ended things. It hurt. The ache in his chest was brutal. He wished he’d never met you and never known how it felt to love you.
And to lose you.
His students asked him if he enjoyed his birthday weekend. He had to fight back the tears and lie, “Yes.” When the truth was he’d had the best and worst days of his life, one after the other, without a chance to breathe in between.
Meanwhile, you spent the next few nights drowning your sorrows with alcohol and slipping back into old habits. Victoria couldn’t believe what she was seeing when you were dropped off at her door completely wasted.
You called out of work, needing the days to recuperate from your raging hangovers. Victoria tried to pry, asking you about Johnny and what went wrong. Just hearing his name was enough to enrage you.
When Friday came around and the boys were at Shownu’s house, your best friend was determined to get answers.
“We broke up,” Johnny told her bitterly. “Although, according to her, we were never a thing to begin with.”
“She’s out of control,” Victoria cried, eyes full of fear. “I’m scared she’s gonna do something stupid.”
“She’s a grown woman. I’m not her parent,” Johnny grumbled, but his nerves became unsteady. His instincts gave him a solid punch to the gut - the woman he loved was in danger and he needed to protect her.
“She doesn’t have any parents. You know that. I thought you cared about her,” Victoria chastised, scowling.
Johnny replied somberly, “I do.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
Shownu put a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.
“I already pushed her too hard,” Johnny argued. “If I…”
“You didn’t push her enough,” Victoria interrupted, raising her voice.
“No, you listen,” your best friend snapped. “Forget I asked for your help. I made a mistake.”
Johnny sighed loudly. He was being stubborn and dejected, and that was out of character for him. You had crashed landed into his life and thrown his world upside down.
Victoria waited, arms folded tightly.
Finally, Johnny relented. “Where is she?”
The music in the house was loud enough to send tremors through you. Cigarette smoke filled the air, mingling with the scents of alcohol and sweaty bodies dancing.
Johnny nearly broke the front door down and shouted your name over the noise.
You were perched on the sofa, a boy’s lips sucking on your neck. You’d only met him a few minutes ago. At the mere sight of Johnny, the man who’d stolen your heart, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs. Instead, with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other, you chirped, “Yes, dear?”
Johnny took one look at your precarious position and felt strong enough to break through walls. Fighting back that thought, he motioned upward with his hand and said, “Let’s go.”
“Suck my dick,” you retorted.
Johnny marched right up to you and snatched the drink from your hand, tossing it away and splashing beer on a number of partygoers. The joint quickly followed and the boy who had been attached to your neck flew back in surprise, shouting, “What the fuck?”
“Johnny, I swear to god,” you began, crying out when Johnny hoisted you up and proceeded to drag you toward the door.
The aforementioned boy charged after you and shoved Johnny’s arm, yelling, “Hey, asshole. She doesn’t want to leave.”
Your eyes widened and you grabbed Johnny’s sleeve, pleading, “Johnny, he’s just a dumb guy. Don’t kill him.”
Johnny was already turning around, pressing a hand to the young man’s chest and shoving him back a few feet with ease. “Fuck around and find out,” was all your lover warned.
One more look at Johnny and he decided you were no longer worth the trouble.
Johnny led you with him across the front lawn to a parked car. You recognized it as belonging to Shownu and frowned.
Of course, Victoria tattled on you.
“What - no bike?” you jeered.
“Like I’d put your drunk ass on the back of a motorcycle,” Johnny snapped.
“I’m not drunk,” you whined and it was the truth. You’d had two puffs of the joint and only half of the beer when Johnny crashed the party.
Johnny stopped just shy of the car and made you face him, patronizing, “So, can you get in the car yourself or do I need to do it for you?”
You shot him a glare and marched to the passenger side obediently.
Johnny drove in silence, one hand draped on the wheel. You sat with your arms folded, sulking with a frown.
But the longer he drove and the longer you were forced to sit and think, the more you realized your heart was swelling. Johnny had done what you’d always wanted your parents to do: give a shit about you. Actually care about your existence for just a moment.
Glancing at him in the corner of your eye, you asked quietly, “Are you taking me to your place or mine?”
Johnny noticed that you had softened, but he was still rough. His fury was warranted. “Yours. I’m tucking you into bed and then I’m going home.”
Your lips quivered. Tears surged into your eyes faster than you thought possible. “Please, don’t leave,” you mumbled, ashamed.
Johnny’s gaze darted to you, but he quickly looked back to the road ahead. The weakness in your voice killed him. “You want me to stay?”
You nodded.
Johnny grit his teeth. He wanted to chew you out for hurting him the way you had and he wanted to scold you endlessly for falling back into your old ways of coping, but he didn’t have the heart.
“I couldn’t do it, Johnny,” you broke the silence again a moment later.
“Do what?”
“Hook up,” you confessed, almost inaudibly. “I’ve tried more than once since that night and I couldn’t do it. All I could think about was you. You’ve ruined me.”
Johnny sighed your name. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Thinking about you in the arms of another man, but longing for him the entire time made his blood boil.
“I love you,” you whispered softly and finally looked at him. His eyes predictably stayed on the road. “It took me a while, but I… finally accepted it.”
Johnny had already told you he loved you and you’d left him for it. He guarded his heart a little more carefully this time, but you were already opening him back up. “I can’t change my past or who I am,” he said.
“I would never want you to, Johnny.”
Johnny bit his lip. Emotion was threatening to choke him. “You were wrong about me. I’m not whole either. I’m incomplete, same as you. I’ve been looking for the other half of me, someone that understands me, but I had started to believe… such a person didn’t exist. Until I met you.”
You blinked through more tears. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him for a second. You were hanging on his every word.
Johnny met your penchant stare briefly and looked away again. “You’re strong in ways that I’m weak,” he continued, tender. “You’re weak in ways that I’m strong.”
Tears streamed down your cheeks and you wiped them away with your sleeves. He was describing a feeling you had started to understand in the time spent with him. “I’m not broken when I’m with you,” you sobbed, sniffling back the tears. “Do you have any idea how scary that is?”
Johnny furrowed his brow. “Why does it have to be scary?”
You leaned back in the seat and shook your head from side to side. “Because as beautiful as these moments are, they’re so painful when they’re gone.”
Johnny knew that all too well. He constantly replayed the memories with you in his head. You had found your way into his mind as well as his heart. There was no getting over you.
Silence returned until Johnny pulled into your driveway. You led the way inside with him only a step behind you, and headed straight for the bedroom to put on comfortable clothes.
Johnny leaned back against the wall, watching you undress, and said, “You didn’t let me finish before. When I told you to forgive your parents.”
You bristled as you kicked off your pants. It was what set off the fight before and you weren’t keen on revisiting the conversation. Unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor, you rifled through your dresser for a nightgown and asked, “What else did you want to say?”
“Cut them out of your life.”
You startled, turning to him with wide eyes. “What?”
Johnny nodded. “Forgive them and then go one hundred percent no contact. Block them on your phone. They’re toxic and they bring out the worst in you.”
You slipped into an oversized shirt that covered you to the tops of your thighs, not realizing it was one of his, and sneered, “Then, I won’t get a dime from them.”
Johnny recognized his shirt and to hide his pleasure, he shrugged. “Isn’t that worth it? Is that a fair trade?”
You let out a loud exhale and met his eyes, finding comfort in their warmth as you mulled it over. Your shoulders fell and you lowered your head. “I’ve been angry at them for so long. I don’t even know who I am without that part of me. My whole life I’ve been trying to punish them by… punishing myself.”
“I know.”
You paced away, running your hands through your hair. There it came again - the pain. “It’s like I’ve been screaming, ‘see what you made me do?’ But they never cared. They never even looked at me. And that’s why I can’t even look at myself,” you cried morosely.
Johnny cleared the space between you and him and took you in his arms. Without a word, he led you into the bathroom and crowded your back, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
You had no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t protest.
“Look in the mirror,” he said.
You shook your head vehemently. “I can’t.”
Johnny slipped a hand beneath your jaw and forced you to keep your head up. “Look. Now, tell me what you see.”
“A mess,” you sighed in defeat.
“A beautiful mess,” he corrected gently. “I know you see scars that no one else sees. They’re hidden underneath, but are just as real. And they’re not ugly.”
You tried to turn away in shame. “Yes, they are.”
Johnny held you in place and disagreed. “They’re unique, but they don’t define who you are.”
“I let them.”
Johnny kissed your cheek with affection. He wanted to steal all of your pain and carry it inside himself. “Remember what I told you - about why I teach history?”
You nodded, recounting, “If we don’t learn from our mistakes, we are doomed to repeat them.”
“They broke you and because of that, you will never be like them. You avoid relationships because you think you’ll hurt the person you love like they did, but you won’t. Because you know what that feels like. Every minute we’ve spent together, you’ve tried to protect me. You’ve given everything you have to show me love.”
You whimpered, “Johnny…”
He continued, “And when you have babies one day, if you ever choose to do so, you will be an amazing mom because you know what it’s like not to have one. You know how much a kid needs their mother’s love and you will make sure they never know what it feels like to live without it.”
That shattered what little resolve you had left. A sob fell from your lips and you buried your face in your hands. No one in your life had ever spoken to you with such raw kindness and love. Not once. It pained you, like someone stitching an open wound without numbing you first, but in turn, there was a satisfying ache. As if you were falling into place.
“You’re not the monster you think you are,” Johnny whispered, holding you tight, vowing to never let go.
“Johnny,” was all you could say. How could you ever put into words what he meant to you?
That he had saved you from yourself.
Johnny kissed your cheek, tasting your tears. He was so in love with you, he would do whatever it took to make you happy again.
Finally lowering your hands, you looked at his reflection in the mirror and told him, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out.”
Johnny simpered at that, but chided sternly, “Never talk badly about yourself again. If I caught someone talking shit about you, I would fuck them up. You think I’m gonna let you talk about yourself that way?”
You staggered out a laugh. “No.”
“Then, knock it off. No more of this being broken. Your heart remembers the mean things you say to your own reflection. Promise me - never again.”
“Never again. I promise.”
Johnny heaved a sigh and leaned his head against yours. “I love you,” he said at long last. “Are you gonna let me?”
“Yes,” you replied, the air whooshing out of your lungs. A weight had been dragged off your chest. For the first time in as long as you could remember, you could breathe.
Johnny turned you around and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. You hugged him tight, burrowing your face against his chest. You closed your eyes and hummed softly, trapped in his arms and melting in the heat of him.
Johnny had never been so out of his mind. Finally, he had someone to hold, someone he could pour all the love he had to give into until you overflowed. Only to come back for more.
You now understood that you were two sides of the same coin. He had spent his life showered with love, smothered with it, and desperate to give some back. You had gone without, starved for it. Craving someone to mend the broken pieces of your heart.
Rising to your tiptoes, you kissed him hotly, combing your fingers into his hair. Johnny met the rush of your kisses and overlapped his arms snugly around you. A faint yet powerful feeling danced in the back of his mind - that his heart was safe and sound with you.
Meanwhile, you could only think of how content his love made you feel. Passion, you thought. This was how it felt to be intimate with someone. To have no secrets, nothing hidden or held back. Body and soul. To have seen the dark parts of you and loved them anyway.
Warmth exploded in your chest, seeping into your bones and reaching every inch of your skin. You knew he was yours and you smiled against his mouth, the last of your tears escaping your eyes for Johnny to kiss them from your cheeks.
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hey if you enjoyed this story please consider leaving me a tip or buying me a coffee so I can keep writing. my venmo is leighwashere. thank you :)
copyright 2020 - 2022 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) all rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!
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curryvillain · a year ago
[email protected] & @BeresHammondOJ Give Their "God Is Love" Collab A Visual
[email protected] & @BeresHammondOJ Give Their “God Is Love” Collab A Visual
A couple weeks ago, the legendary Beres Hammond gave the world nothing but that niceness with his “Love From A Distance” online concert. Serenading with the classics, he gave the audience even more when he brought Popcaan on stage to perform a new single called, “God Is Love“. While the single became available days later, today we get the visual for it. Directed by Shane C. Brown, Rasheed…
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karemeri · a year ago
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deceitfuldevil · 4 months ago
Hey, I think your requests are open, I could be wrong tho, but if they are open could you do face riding with Pietro maximoff please 😩😩
my requests are always open, I encourage as many requests as possible darling! Also so down to write this because I haven't written for Pietro in a hot minute.
Valentine's Breakfast
Pietro Maximoff X Reader
Summary: Pietro knows the perfect way to greet you when you wake up the morning of your first Valentine’s Day together, and it’s guaranteed to make you see stars.
Warnings: porn with little plot, face riding, mentions of an erection, AFAB reader, female receiving oral, swearing, not beta-read.
Word Count: 1.4K
It was your first Valentine's Day with Pietro as a couple, and ever since you explained the holiday to him once he moved into the compound officially he couldn't wait to celebrate with you. He knew vaguely of the holiday, but considering the failing state of Sokovia when he was growing up there wasn't much of a market for it.
You had officially gotten together shortly after the battle of Sokovia, Tony claimed he saw it coming after you were caught flirting with him on the battlefield while the rest of the team was still trying to take down the hydra base. “Y/n, keep your eyes open for two enhanced individuals. One is too fast to see, beware” Steve warned over the intercom. “Yeah yeah I’ll keep an eye out” you said back without an actual care in the world. Maybe you’d actually listen to what Cap said if he also wasn’t the one to recommend you start far out on the field away from the battle because you “weren’t ready for battle”.
“Are you hearing something I’m not dragá?” Pietro questioned, stepping closer to your frame as you leaned back against a snowy tree.
“Just my boss somewhere on the inside warning me about something on the outside.” you said with an eye roll “it’s nothing that concerns you, I promise.” you reassured him.
“The thing is, I’m supposed to be on the inside right now. So, sorry in advance for what I’m about to do.” He says quickly, and before you can even ask what he means by that you're knocked over on your ass with the back of your head hitting the tree you were just leaning up against.
“Wish I could say I didn’t see that coming kid, but you were fraternizing with the enemy. Or should I say, flirting?” Tony said, hearing the whole thing over comms and knowing exactly who you were talking to. Beyond that, the rest between you and Pietro was history. You weren’t officially together when the Maximoff’s agreed to move into the Avengers compound, but Tony still jumped the gun and made your room Pietro’s room as well. Informing Clint that he lost the bet when you thanked Tony for his decision.
Now it was nearly 11am as you were just starting to wake up, Tony was nice enough to give all couples in the compound the day off. Mostly because besides you and Pietro that also included him and Pepper, besides the point. You rolled over to see a smiley Pietro with his silver waves all messy and cute. “Good morning dragosté” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” he added, his smile getting wider.
“Ah so that’s why you’re so smiley this early in the morning.” you replied with a chuckle, running a hand through his unruly hair only ruffing it up more.
“I have a surprise for you.” he chimed, laying on his back fully.
“Oh? And what’s that?” you asked teasingly.
“Get on top of me and find out.” he stated, starting to pull the covers off his toned body.
“Great, my Valentine’s Daygift is that I get to do all the work?” you joked, getting ready to swing your body over his despite your suspicions.
“Just trust me dragá.” Pietro insisted as you slotted your hips over his.
“Yeah sur- oh.” you said as your weight sunk down onto pietro. . . he was already at half mast at 11 in the morning. A cheeky grin spread across his face as he gently lifted his hips and grinded into your covered heat. “Oh.” you said lowly, eyes gently fluttering shut. “That’s not even the best part.” Pietro claimed, one hand lifting your shirt enough to expose your panties and the other hooking onto them before- riiip!
“Hey!” you shouted, watching your now ripped underwear be discarded somewhere in your room. “Ah ah,” Pietro scolded, both his hands now coming around your waist and grabbing your ass firmly. “Climb on, princessá.” he said in a sultry tone, his hands on your bottom now lifting up and bringing you towards his face. You smirked down at him “are you sure?” you asked, now hovering over his face. “More than sure.” he admitted, nothing but pure lust in his eyes.
Hesitantly, you lowered yourself onto Pietro’s eager face, but you obviously weren’t quick enough because Pietro placed his hands on your hips and forcefully brought your heat down onto his face and eagerly started eating away.
You cried out loudly, your hands desperately searching for something to hold on to and anchor you to this physical realm. One of your hands gripped the headboard of your shared bed, the other tightly grasped his dark roots. Under you Pietro was going at it like a man starved, his tongue eagerly lapping in and out of your slick entrance as his large nose pressed up firmly against your clit. You weren’t even sure how he could breathe, it was like you were his oxygen.
Your worries and fears about crushing your beloved boyfriend subsided as the pleasure he was providing beneath you increased, you started to grind down softly on his face as his nose increased pressure on your sensitive bud. Pietro let out a muffled moan as you continued to grind against his face, sending beautiful vibrations through your core and letting you know that he was enjoying this just as much as you.
His tongue expertly curled and flicked inside of you and his stubble began to tickle your rear, you were desperate to have him as far inside you as possible so you rode his face like no tomorrow. If Pietro wasn’t fucking his tonuge into your soaked cunt he was inteligently sucking on your throbbing clit, sending waves of pleasure through you as you cried out.
“Pietro,” you cried out breathlessly “Oh Pietro, please.” earning a symphony of moans from the man beneath you as he started to push you over the edge. He must’ve known that you were close, that man knew your body like the back of his hand. Pietro brought one of his hands from your hips to your breast as he groped and squeezed your supple tissue. The room started spinning and Pietro used his fingers to tweak and pinch your sensitive nipple, moans falling from your lips faster than you could compute.
“Pietro I- I’m, fuck!” you screamed out, thrusting against his face as you tried to verbalize a warning as you fell apart. But Pietro knew, he could feel you pulsating and tightening on his tongue. His other hand stayed firmly on your hip as he helped you ride out the intense orgasm. Your hips stuttered over his face as your sweet juices came rushing out and dribbled onto Pietro’s face, which he gladly lapped up may I add. As your hips started to slow Pietro brought his other hand back to your hand and soothed his palm over your sides. You were catching your breath as Pietro licked up the last of your orgasm as gently brought you off his face and laid you back down next to him.
He propped himself up on his side with his elbow as he watched you phase back into reality, a now slick grin on his face. A few moments later once you had fully caught your breath you turned to see your boyfriend looking gleeful as ever. You laughed breathlessly as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. “I’m beginning to think that you enjoyed that more than me.” you said, rolling onto your side to face him completely.
“And would it be such a crime if I did dragosté?” he asked, bringing one hand to your face and soothing his thumb over your cheek.
“Wasn’t that little activity supposed to be for my pleasure?” you asked accusingly.
“Oh don't worry my sweet, you’ll get a lot more pleasure today. . . I promise.” Pietro said confidently, pulling you in for another kiss.
Hell yeah mf I missed writing requests and I’m proud I can still do them. . . anyways that was hot and I’m glad to say I officially spent my Valentine's Day writing smut. Also it’s my two year anniversary of starting on tumblr so cheers to that! Hope this request exceeded your expectations nonnie!
Much Love,
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alwayskatsuki · 6 months ago
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thank you — b.k.
summary: the reader doesn’t care for christmas and katsuki makes it his business to fix that
content warnings: fem!reader, christmas, childhood nostalgia, reader doesn’t talk to her parents anymore, so holidays aren’t easy, nice soft loving boyfriend bkg, soft sex, unprotected sex, creampie, sub reader, crying ig, also it’s unedited
word count: 1.5k
a/n: I wanted to write a christmas fic. i’ve also got mommy issues. this is the result of that.
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it’s a little cabin on the hill and it’s made entirely out of wooden logs and brick.
it reminded you of a snow globe you were gifted as a child, lost among the hoards of holiday decor your mother always held on to. back then, things were really simple. the warm air swirling in your childhood home laced with warm ginger snap cookies and, your personal favorite, cinnamon scented pine cones from the supermarket. you have fond memories of peeling off layers of thick fleece clothing immediately upon walking through the door after school. kicking off frost covered boots soon thereafter, then taking your freezing toes in both hands to properly heat them up. you’d swear to your mother they were frostbitten. she’d laugh. you miss eagerly waiting for dusk, when your mother would let you plug in the christmas display. the multicolored tree lights illuminated the small snowy village underneath in a reddish-greenish-blueish glow.
and every night before bed, you’d give the little glass globe a shake, watching the white flurries swirl around before settling around and atop the little wooden cabin. you always imagined what life would be like inside that snow globe. come to think of it, you probably haven’t seen it since you were seven years old.
now here it was, right in front of you.
it’s almost unbelievable how different the world feels from the inside; being head to toe blanketed in a thick, lush warmth while the dark clouds continued to cast frozen flakes that would stick around the windows. it was literally freezing outside, but if not for the view you’d truly have no idea. the sight was mesmerizing. you couldn’t ignore the relentless glittering—like something in a movie—as the slopes of snow were lightly stroked by the soft moonlight. every layer of chunky bedding draped over you created a milk-warm cocoon. your little oasis in the midst of the snow storm. the soft flannel sheets felt so good against the plains of your warm skin. the smooth flow from the furnace gave off that intoxicating scent—one that can only be described as the first time someone turned on the heater that season. your senses were overwhelmed with nostalgia, once again transporting you back to your own childhood holidays.
katsuki did his best to keep these vacation plans a secret from you, even going behind your back and asking your boss to give you this specific weekend off from work. after learning you aren’t very fond of christmas, while it was his favorite holiday, he’d spent the last few months looking for the perfect gift, hoping to make this time of year as special for you as it is for him. he knew it wouldn’t be an easy task, the holidays are a touchy subject for anyone who’d gone astray from their parents. he probably should’ve left it alone, but after seeing the glint of wonder in your eyes buried underneath all that melancholy at the upcoming holiday season, he would try his best—year after year after year to give you that much deserved joy. last night he gave you no further instructions other than to pack a bag. no matter how much you’d question and beg and whine in the car, he’d only tell you that you’re almost there and would have to wait and see.
you’d be a little more offended at his grumpy ambiguity if he weren’t taking you on such an elaborate trip.
after asking (and getting denied) an unruly amount of times, you settled for waiting. it was an uphill climb for most of the drive, the green scenery slowly became littered with icy patches. as you ascended onto a mountain, that soon changed, you finally began to see some real snow. a sight you almost forgot, a byproduct of living in the city for so long.
bakugou ushered you out of your shared apartment before the sun had a chance to come out, all in line with his plan. the two of you arrived outside of a podunk ski town in time for lunch, grabbing something quick (and hot) before heading to the resort. there was one small problem though.
you’d never been skiing in your life.
but katsuki has and he knew that. after tagging along all of his parents work trips to whatever fashion week in whatever european country, he was a seasoned veteran when it came to winter sports. he equipped you with everything you’d need to be warm and to be safe, taking you on the bunny hill as many times as you needed, and always guiding you with the gentlest hand.
he’d give anything to bottle-up the child-like squeals you made once realizing you finally made it down the slopes all by yourself.
after the sun turned in for the night, the both of you would as well. you and bakugou toured down a dark dirt road for miles before parking in front of the infamous snow globe scene where he’d unpack the bags and start on dinner.
and that’s what brought you to this moment.
you can’t keep the happy recollections of this day from flashing in your mind as katsuki runs his warm hands over each and every dip or curve of your torso. his bulky but temperate body hovers over yours as you both revel in the pure skin-on-skin contact. he pulls you from your unconscious thoughts with a soft call of your name and fingertip beneath your chin.
his eyes asked for your consent in absolute adornment, his intentions perfectly honest.
and of course you give it to him.
upon lining himself up, he takes the time to scatter delicate pecks along your neck before locking his lips with yours. his kiss is so comfy and easy—and so unbelievably soft. you feel his sheer fingers thread through your hair, moving the flyaways away from your face. the last thing you feel is his feather like breath roll against your cheek before you’re overwhelmed in ecstasy as slips between your folds. he takes the most languid thrusts, letting you get a grip, until he’s able to sit hips flushed together. you choke a bit at the hilt, you can’t even fill your lungs with a complete breath because your chest already feels so full.
“shh, you’re doin so good f’me. so good.” he sounds his praise for you so gently against your hot skin. he settles on a moderate pace, each thrust pulling out completely before gliding back in. he struggles to swallow his groans, resulting in strangled phrases as he doesn’t let up on telling you everything from how good you feel against him to how he couldn’t live without you.
you feel feverish at all the sensations: the heavy pressure burning against your cervix, the pricks of sweat beading along your hairline, the absolute beauty of the glistening mess over your curves where both hips meet. you’ve long given up fighting the red hot blush splayed across your cheeks at all the attention katsuki gives you. the tangled wire in your grows unbelievably hotter as your lover takes a soft thumb to your clit. each time you try to mutter, speak, or whimper, you’re met with the same words,
“just relax, i’ve got you.”
he knows you’re close by the weight your breath holds. he takes up a brisk pace, his tip hooking onto every bump and ridge of your walls before crowning up into your womb.
“kats’k— i-“ you squirm in his tender grasp, inching closer and closer to your release.
he catches your lips in his as white, hot pleasure floods each and every nerve down to the tips of your toes. your brain feels like it’s on fire, threatening to short circuit and shut down completely at all the stimulation. by the time you regain enough composure to peer up at bakugou, you’re nearly sent over the edge all over again at the sight of his release, sweat glossing over every angelic feature. you softly keen at the warm splash, painting your core a milky white.
after all the intoxicating pleasure dissipates from your veins, you weep.
it’s relief that floods along the apples of your cheeks. like the familiar weight you’ve felt piling onto you year after year has been momentarily lifted and shouldered. by katsuki, and just for you.
he stays tucked into your sopping heat as he holds your wracking body into his chest. you find purchase in the crook of his neck as the hot tears run off of you and onto him.
“you’re alright. it’s okay. i’ve got you.”
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plussizeficchick · 5 months ago
Good For You│Shigaraki x Chubby Reader
Not a villain x reader😯😩But frfr, Shigaraki with a chubby reader just makes sense, yk? | PART 2 HERE
Warnings: implied smut, mentions of masturbation (that’s it I think!)
Shigaraki never imagined that there would be someone perfect for him.
Hell, he didn’t think anyone would even spare him a second glance, content with the fact that women just don’t find him attractive. Prepared to spend his life fisting his cock to porn magazines.
But then, he met you.
He doesn’t like to give Kurogiri credit for how you both met, after all, he was the one who had the final say in who was hired, but he will give him props for getting your foot through the door.
You had accidentally bumped into Kurogiri at a rundown market in one of the less savory parts of town, and after having a brief conversation, he mentioned that the league was looking for a new cook. You had needed another job because your current one doesn’t pay that well, so you decided to check it out.
Kurogiri had given Tomura a rundown about the kind of person you were and what your role would be if you were to be hired and truthfully it went in one ear and out the other. It’s his own fault, he knows better than to trouble Shigaraki when he’s playing his games.
You walk into the bar, scoping the area and seeing what could use some touches and what kind of atmosphere you’d be around. Your attention is drawn to the sound of a door slamming shut, a scratchy voice sounding through the hall. “I don’t care about some idiot, I was in the middle of something. Just hire whoever.” You frown at his words, but quickly wipe it off your face. You move towards the bar stools, taking a seat, waiting for someone to greet you.
Shigaraki is taken aback when he sees you for the first time. You were wearing a skirt that was fairly short, your soft, plush thighs peeking out from underneath. Squishy, Tomura thinks. His eyes move further up, taking in your round, chubby frame. Pretty.
Kurogiri clears his throat, drawing your attention from fidgeting with your fingers. You look up and smile at Kurogiri, before turning your attention to the figure standing next to him. Blue, unruly locks. Piercing red eyes. He was handsome. Granted, his skin was a bit dry, but you could work with that. Nothing some of your trusted skincare couldn’t fix. Moving toward you, Kurogiri speaks up, “(Y/N), thank you so much for meeting with us on such short notice. This is the boss, Tomura Shigaraki. He’ll be joining the interview.” You nod at his words, fixing a warm smile on your face toward Shigaraki. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m (Y/N).” You extend a hand toward him, but he just looks at it and scoffs, moving past you. You look at Kurogiri confused, when in a hushed tone he whispers, “He’s a bit rough around the edges. Give him some time to warm up to you.” Nodding, you look at Shigaraki, conflicted.
Mini Time Skip
They ask you questions about your history in working, give you the rundown of what working with the league will be like and if you’d still want to work there. Not that you’d have much of a choice, you know confidential information about their whereabouts. But for some reason, that doesn’t bother you too much. You actually want to be there. Throughout the interview, you sneak glances at Tomura, only to find him already staring at you. You’re skittish, averting eye contact every time, and he can’t help but think about how cute you are. Like a little bunny.
You conclude with Kurogiri giving you a card, letting you know that they’ll get back to you, when Shigaraki finally speaks up. “What’s your quirk?” He rasps, hands reaching up to scratch at his neck. You look at him, swallowing thickly because this is the first time he’s addressing you directly. “Um, it’s a nullifying quirk, sir. I can’t really be affected by others’.” You squeak out. He moves toward you, sticking his hand out towards your face. “So you mean to tell me that if I were to touch you, nothing would happen? I find that hard to believe.” He didn’t, but if there was a chance that he could possibly touch you, without having to worry about you getting hurt, he’d try. This was really just an excuse to get his hands on you. Moving your face toward his hand, you rest your cheek in his palm, looking him in the eye. It felt as if it were only the two of you, like the rest of the world faded away. Shigaraki’s breath caught in his throat. You’re fine. You’re okay. Moving his hand away from you, he turns his back, scratching at his neck. “You’re hired.”
Time Skip
Life at the league hideout was interesting. You were certainly introduced to some interesting characters. And while you may sometimes lose sleep with Dabi’s nightly sexcapades and dealing with Toga’s “surprise hugs”, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You unfortunately had to leave your old job, Shigaraki thinking, “You never know who’s watching. It’d just be easier if you stay and work here.” Totally not because he wanted to see you 24/7. Totally not because he feared there might be someone else at your other job that might sweep you off your feet.
It’s not like he’s into you. He pretends not to notice the way you always dote on him, bringing him his meals because you know he doesn’t like conversing unless he absolutely has to. The way you never bat an eye when he’s frustrated, only cooing it’s okay Tomu. Even the nickname! He pretends that he’s annoyed when you call him that, but in reality he desperately wants to hear you say it, moan it, scream it.
You’re always getting him hard. It doesn’t matter what you do, he’s popping a stiffy. Bending over to clean up the plates he left in his room; hard. Dusting the cabinets in the kitchen; hard. It truly doesn’t take much for him to get going, and the fact that he’d be able to touch you, grab your most soft parts, is enough for him to blow his load, thick cum coating his fingers. He wants to cum inside you, but he doesn’t know how you feel. He knows he’s not as suave as Dabi, but maybe that’s not your type. He hopes not.
You are no better. You can’t think of your boss like that! It’s unethical, really, but that doesn’t stop you from slipping your fingers into your panties every night, thoughts of Shigaraki fucking into you drawing soft whimpers and whines from your throat, slick coating your fingers. You cum so quick when he’s involved, like just the thought of him is enough for your panties to dampen.
It all comes to a head when one day, Dabi saunters up to you, well aware of Shigaraki’s fondness for you, when he pulls you flush to his body. “Damn, doll. You always look this good cleaning dishes.” Your cheeks heat up at his proclamation, never being flirted with so boldly. “I-I, well- I-” Chuckling, Dabi runs his warm hand along your waist. “So scared, doll. It’s just me.” He drawls, moving his hands a bit lower. “Take your hands off her, you burnt shit.” You hear a scratchy voice growl out. Smirking, Dabi removes his hands from you, holding them up in surrender. “Sorry, boss. Didn’t mean to overstep.” He says, leaving the area. You turn to look at Shigaraki, an apparent sneer etched onto his face. “Tomu, are you okay?” You ask, moving to comfort him. He directs his eyes at you, causing you to stop in your tracks. “You liked that didn’t you? You like being the center of attention, huh?” He seethes, stalking toward you. You furrow your brows, confused. “What? No, not at-” “Shut it.” He grumbles, wrapping his hand around your throat. “You need to know who you belong to, doll.” He says, emphasizing Dabi’s words. A shiver runs up your spine at the insinuation of what he means, clenching your thighs together.  He grabs your arm roughly, pulling you in the direction of his bedroom.
“Let’s go.”
Taglist: @pervysenpaix @xogabbiexo @namjoonswifeyy @dabilovesme
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blackmissfrizzle · 12 days ago
Les Seperas
Characters: Steven Grant x black!reader, a little bit of Marc Spector x black!reader & Jake Lockely x black!reader
Summary: After a bad day at work, Steven finds a way to relax his girlfriend
Warnings: Smut, brief mentions of violence
A/N: Here's more of my works and if you want to be tagged click here. Also it was barley edited so don't mind the mistakes.
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When it came to you and your food you didn’t play. It was in everyone’s best interest for you to eat before a disaster happened. However, today you didn’t mind.
Walking parallel to him a little ways across the room, so you could listen but not intrude on the children’s field trip, you listened to Steven give his tour. 
You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. He was so confident, more in control. So much different than the cashier at the gift shop when you first met him.
It was the end of the tour and of course you had to go to the gift shop. As soon as you entered, you connected eyes with the clerk. He was a bit disheveled, but it fit him. Kinda like in a Spencer Reid kind of way. 
You gave him a small smile. In return you received a smile while he tried to lean against the counter coolly.  Unfortunately, he miscalculated his footing and ended up falling over.
Your friends laughed at the poor man. You smacked both of them. “Stop being mean.”
Talia covered her mouth and mumbled an apology while Kat couldn't stop. “I’m sorry, he’s just so awkward. Poor thing looks like Goob. He makes me want to take a nap.”
Tired of your friend making fun of the poor man, you stomped on her foot. “You don’t know what he’s going through.” You harshly whispered at her and then stomped away to go help the man. 
He was so focused on the paperweights; he didn’t notice you helping him until the both of you reached for the same one. “Um, oh,” Steve stumbled over his words.  On the regular, he was always stumbling over his words, but now with someone as beautiful as you in his face he couldn’t remember the English language. “W-wou-wo-would you like one?” It’s the Pyramid of Khafre.”
Actually, you wanted one with an Egyptian god, but his excitement and pure passion wouldn’t let you interrupt him. His confidence soared as went on with this subject. He was definitely a cuter version of Spencer Reid.
“So, this one was built for Pharoh Khafre, son of Khufu, which his tomb is the Great Pyramid of Giza.” He went on and on about facts that you would not normally obtain but seeing this stranger so happy made you happy. Being in his presence was like standing in the sun. 
Some rude ass blonde, most likely his boss interrupted the lesson he was giving you and ordered him to restock and checked some people out. Somehow you followed him around, asking him to give you some more tidbits. 
Soon your friends were ready to leave, but you weren’t. “Thank you, Steven I wish could hear some more.”
Steven was frantic. He may not have experience with women, but he was almost positively sure you were flirting with him. “Ask her out stupid. She clearly wants to be around you more for whatever reason. Just don’t invite her to your house, that’s not a date.” Marc suggested. He watched the whole interaction. Quite frankly, he was surprised Steven held his own. Even he would’ve been nervous with those siren eyes on him.
“Shut up, I know what a date is.” Steven hissed.
You looked to where Steven was staring at and couldn’t figure out who he was talking to? “Huh?”
Steven ran his fingers through his unruly curls, attempting to find courage. Ten simple words. He could do it. He’s been talking to you all night. What’s the difference now? She liked you and not Marc. This was his finally his chance for a genuine connection. “Um- wou- um,” His eyes darted everywhere. He could see your friends at the door, snickering at him.
“Do it, you idiot before she becomes uninterested.”  A deeper, more annoying voice yelled at him.
Not only did Steven had Marc in his head, but now he had Khonsu yelling at him too. It was so loud in his head, he didn’t know he was yelling. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO ON A DATE WITH ME?!” That caught the attention of everyone in the gift shop. Great, now they could get front row seats of him getting rejected.
You couldn’t help but giggle. His nervousness was cute. Nodding your head, you gave him a shy smile. “I would love to. Here’s my number.”  You gave have one last wave and left with your friends.
Steven picked up the piece of paper and held it close to his chest. Maybe things were finally looking up for him.
Your flashback to your first meeting with Steven was interrupted by the preteens asking a bunch of questions. It was a true testament to Steven’s transformation. At the beginning of the tour, those kids looked like they would rather be in school than at the museum, but now they were asking him questions faster than he could answer them.
“And that’s how Osiris became King of the Underworld.” The children clapped. They wanted more, but their teachers ushered them into the gift shop.
Once the last child left his area, he ran/walked to you and scooped you up in his arms. “My beautiful girl.” It never failed, Steven always complimented you when he greeted you. 
“And here’s my handsome lead tour guide.” You scratched his beard, making him lean into your hand. He was always this soft with you. He never raised his voice to you in anger. Steven always made you feel safe.
He led you out to the outdoor courtyard. “Hungry, my love?” He set out the food before you, already knowing your answer. “You could’ve eaten without me.”
“No! Lunch is not the same without you.” You hugged his arm and then kissed his cheek. “Never suggest anything so stupid.”
Steven chuckled as he spread out the lunch. “Sorry, love.” He fed a strawberry to you. His own hunger was forgotten as he tried to satisfy yours first. 
“Eat.” You pushed some food towards Steve.
The two of you sat contently as you enjoyed lunch. Too bad it went by too fast. Per usual, you got caught up in Steven’s new lesson.  
It was hard to part, but somehow you pulled away from him. “I’ll cook tonight.” You scratched his beard while you kissed him.
“Okay, love. Laters gators.” He kissed you through your car window once more and watched you drive off. “I’m one lucky man.” 
Dinner was off the schedule. Your coworker pissed you off. That bitch really had the nerve to tell someone not to do a favor for you when you just did a favor for her the other day. The audacity of this bitch. It really ruined the rest of your day. As soon you got home, you poured yourself some wine and waited for Steven. Right when he walked in you began venting.
“And that’s the last time I’m helping her lazy ass.” It felt good to offload all of that. You felt lighter, ignorant to your surroundings or otherwise you would’ve noticed the switch.
The chilling air was the first clue before the New York accent. “One conversation is all I need.”
You shook your head, pinching your eyebrows. “Jake, then why are you holding a knife?”
He looked at you and then the offending weapon and then back at you and shrugged. “It’s my emotional support knife.”
Jake’s unhinged eyes left, and Marc’s concerned ones popped up. “You don’t know the meaning of conversation. I’ll talk with her.”
“First of all, Jake, why doesn’t it surprise me you have an emotional support knife. And second of all, mates none of us will be having a conversation with the shrew. YN can handle this.”
A smile crept up on your face. Steven was so supportive of you. You stroke his face. “Thank you, baby.”
Steven leaned into your touch. “Okay, mates no more interruptions from you two.” His focus returned to you. “I got the perfect thing to make you feel better.”
“What?” You played with his bouncy curls. 
Steven’s choice of relaxation was reading a book of poetry as he massaged your feet while you drank some wine. Though, it only worked for some time.
Instead of being relaxed, you were horny and revved up. Steven’s curls kept falling, so every once in a while, he would push them up, making you jealous it wasn’t your fingers. Constantly, pushing them back, must have gotten on his nerves because he put his glasses-your new favorite accessories of his- on top of his head. To torture you even further, he scratched his beard making you focus on his lips. The lips that were on you for endless hours bringing you multiple orgasms a couple of nights ago. Oh, and that beard you left you soaking. Yeah, you weren’t going to be able to focus until you got some relief. 
Every once in a while, Steven would kiss your foot, but his focus was on the book. Luckily you had a gown on so your movements wouldn’t alert him.
Your hands roamed your body slowly. Each brush you pretended was Steven’s hand and not yours. You reached your flowing destination just as Steven began reading in French. Great. This man was gonna be the death of you. Every word he spoke turned you into a bigger ball of horniness.
You did your best to stay quiet and not distract Steven, but everything felt too good for you not to vocalize it. “Oh my god, Steven.” You sucked your own nipple, trying to recreate the sensation Steven perfected.
“What’s wrong, Love?” Sometimes Steven could be so oblivious. It was frustrating and cute at the same time. 
“Need…you.” You were able to pant out.
His eyes had to be deceiving him. Were you really touching yourself as he read to you? He slid his glasses down to their proper place. “Oh baby,” he licked his lips. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Your voice…it makes me so damn wet.”
A bit of panic soared through you when he set the book down. “No!” Quickly, you put your foot between the book and the couch. “Keep reading.”
He wanted to put his all in pleasing you, but whatever princess wants, princess gets. With his right forearm, he held down the book while his left hand explored your valley of treasure. 
For someone who could be as awkward as Steven one would think he possessed no rhythm. Granted a few months ago that would’ve been true, but not now. The cadence of his words matched the movement of his fingers. 
At this point you didn’t know what was turning you on more, his voice or his fingers. Naturally Steven’s voice was a bit higher than you used to prefer, but oh- when he reads. He reaches this beautiful deep timber, that you could feel in your bones and most importantly your pussy. 
Do not write. I am sad and would like to fade away.
The fine summers without you are nights without light.
I have folded my arms unable to reach you;
And to knock at my heart is to beat on my grave.
Do not write.
Do not write. Let us learn only to die in ourselves
Ask only of God… of yourself, whether I loved you.
In the depths of your absence, to hear that you love me
Is to be hearing from heaven without ever ascending.
Do not write.
Do not write. I am fearful of you and afraid of my memory
That has kept your voice and calls to me often;
Do not show me the water that cannot be drunk
For your cherished writing brings your portrait alive.
Do not write.
Do not write those sweet words that I dare not read any more.
It seems that your voice spreads them over my heart
And, as I see them through the glow of your smile,
It seems they are stamped with a kiss on my heart.
Do not write.
“So sad.” You stopped a tear from sliding further down your face.
Steven threw his prized book to the side. The only thing that could get in between him and your pussy was an imminent threat to your life. “What? The poem? I- we would never leave you.”
“I know,” you softly chuckled, scratching his beard. “It’s so sad I can cum to such a depressing poem.”
Salt and pepper curls fell into your face as Steven hovered over you. You got the perfect view of him being mesmerized by your pussy. Anticipation and horniness built up as you watched him wet his fingers and prepped you for his dick.
Greediness overcame you. You needed all parts of his body touching yours. Forcefully you pulled him down for a kiss while he gracefully entered you.
It didn’t take long for Steven to regain control of everything. Just like Marc and Jake, Steven insisted on taking care of you. It was about the only thing all three could completely agree on. Making love was all about you and you came first…multiple times. Unless you were in trouble with Marc and especially with Jake.
Steven cradled your face. His hold on you grew tighter with every kiss. With Marc and Jake there was an expected roughness, but Steven was usually softer. He made love to you in a delicate and gentle way, but no less satisfying. Not tonight though.  Les Separes ran rapid in his mind. He needed to feel you. A constant reminder that you’re here with him and going nowhere. He never wanted to relate to that poem. 
“Steven.” Your breath hitched. The way he grabbed the meaty flesh by your hips, you knew it would bruise but you didn’t mind. His hips snapped roughly. Thank God all three men knew the difference between harder and faster, but Steven was the master of it.
His lips were barely half an inch above yours. “More beautiful than Hathor.”
“Who was that again?” You pretended to forget. Seeing him geek out was a huge turn on. 
It was obvious you asked to get a rile out of him. You were the perfect student for him, absorbing every fact he stated, even if it was one, he said offhandedly “Later, babes.” He nipped your ear while he pumped into you. “Right now, let me ravish you.”
“Ravish away.” You moaned. 
Steven pulled away for a few moments, to flip you around. His plan was to take you from behind, but your creaminess was begging to be eaten. 
At the first you lick, you almost collapse. Your bud was already so sensitive, that even crossing your legs would have set you off. “Steven,” you groaned, reaching behind you, and tugging on his unruly curls, simply guiding him.
Near his own orgasm, Steven pulled up and slowly entered you. “Oh love,” he kissed down your spine. “I could never get tired of you. Thank you for giving me a chance.” You were the only woman to truly show him what love is.
“I love you, Steven Grant.” You cupped his face, leading him to kiss you.
The two of your moans were muffled by the kisses and the sloshing of your sexes. Steven folded over you once he came down from his climax. “Mind if we stay here, love?” He kissed down your spine again, squeezing your hip intermittently. 
“Not at all.” You laid there content with Steven’s weight comfortably on top of you. 
Sleep was claiming you when you were alerted by the rolling of your nipples and tiny little nips on your neck.
“Querida, you’ve had enough rest.”
Uh-oh. You should’ve known better. When one gets a taste then they all want a taste. Better prepare for a long night.
Taglist: @nightlywords7 @whatupitshuff @liquorlaughslove @9daykrisr @jackburtonsays @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @eeveeangelcakes @blowmymbackout @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat
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rozengrotto · 3 months ago
I saw your sketches of Mer-Azul being bigger than the tweels. What if he was gigantic like Ursula at the end of the movie? Like if someone hurt the tweels and he just gets big. Lol. I feel like Jade would be touched about Azul's feelings for them and Floyd would want to eat those huge tentacles.
it's always the tall, scary Leech twins protecting their weak boss from unruly clients on land...but what if it's the other way around once they are in the water
giant octo making sure his cute little pet eels are safe and protected?
a feral Azul going after anyone who dares to hurt his beloved eels??
I could see Jade being a bit of a tease about it too-
"my my, so you went out of your way to save us? you must really be fond of Floyd and me~"
Azul would firmly deny any sort of attachment towards the twins, of course: "tsk, don't be ridiculous, I'm only upholding my part of our contract- this is a purely symbiotic relationship"
he can't allow himself to be soft-hearted. after all, it's eat-or-be-eaten in the business world as well as in the ocean-
(he's telling himself that he's not attached, but boyyyyy is he attached to those two)
Floyd's always called Azul's merform delicious and squishy, he'd sure wanna nibble a bit on cute tako-chan even if Azul's like, ten times the size of his eels...still same cute tako-chan
it's not only Azul being bigger than the twins tho, he's also said to be super strong too?? according to Floyd, his grip strength is scary (and you know it's concerning when FLOYD of all people is the one giving praise-)
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dreamwvrld · 6 months ago
12 DAYS OF TECHNOMAS | au!techno
. ˚₊ 🪀꒱ pirate!techno x siren!reader
━━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ by DREAMWVRLD
summary: 12 days, 12 fics. celebrate the festive season with everybody’s favourite piglin hybrid, and tumblr’s c!techno writer.
‘series masterlist’ | ‘taglist’
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chapter summary: when the S.S. Sleepy sets sail, technoblade never intends to find anything other than treasure— let alone the prettiest mythical creature he’s ever met.
word count: 5.1k
warnings: mentions of sex (not between reader).
. ˚₊ 🪀꒱ a/n: technomas starts here! i’m so excited for you all to read this— let’s enjoy 12 days of c!techno <3
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WATERS are usually calmer over the winter season— Sea creatures fall into states of hibernation, and bitter air drives the island’s inhabitants into their homes. It’s the perfect time to go robbing, scouting for any loot you can find.
And when Technoblade had set off on the long journey with his family, steering their beloved S.S. Sleepy through the open water: He’d assumed it would be no different to any other year he’s completed this Christmas tradition.
That is, until it begins to snow for the first time in seventeen years.
“Did you do the decks, mate?” His father’s voice drones into his ear, disrupting his quiet reading upon the quarterdeck. He’d been holed up there since this morning, too tired and cold to listen to whatever island girl his brother Wilbur had brought home overnight. 
Sharing bedrooms is annoying enough with two brothers and his dad, and it doesn’t help that his brother is a cocky piece of shit who believes he can do what he wants. “You know Christmas day is tomorrow, right? I don’t want no grime on our riches.”
“Nah,” Techno replies bluntly, not bothering to pull his eyes away from the book situated between his numb fingers. “I’m sure Wil can do it after his rendezvous—”
Phil is quick to plant his boot against his son’s leg, kicking his shin until the boy lets out an exaggerated yelp of pain. He hasn’t done any actual damage, but Techno isn’t going to sit idly and let his father boss him around.
“Your head is in the clouds, mate.” Phil comments sternly, not wanting to bash his eldest son for his incompetence in their lifestyle. Sure, Technoblade has always made a ruthless pirate— But only when he’s able to steer his attention away from the mythology of sea creatures, an unhealthy obsession that’s been set upon the boy since he first set sail into murky waters.
The idea of undiscovered merfolk who lure in sailors has always been deemed a scary bedtime story, something Phil would use to taunt his three kids into eating their vegetables or sleeping on time. Yet to Technoblade it seemed all too real, like someday he’d be able to discover what had been, until then, just a myth.
The boy looks up to his father, unruly strands of pink hair brushing his cheeks due to the icy wind. He stares blankly, although there’s a hint of sadness to his look. “...Fine. I’ll do it.”
A large crack sounds from below them, the familiar noise of wood splintering that’s caused by his youngest brother Tommy. The blonde flies up the stairs, out of breath and partially red in the face.
“There’s— There’s a storm—”
Phil raises his hand to silence the boy, pulling on his hat to shield his hair from the rapidly increasing wind. Techno stands to meet his father’s height, his book now forgotten on the pile of blankets and ripped sails he’d been sitting on.
“I’ll head down to navigate— Techno, you steer her to safety.” Phil is quick to instruct, an eerie level of calmness to the man who’s just been told his ship and family are now in danger.
Nonetheless, he heads over to fulfil his duty, hands gripping the rough wood of the wheel.
The water’s harshness seems to pick up by the second, his feet struggling to keep themselves planted to the floor with every large wave that attacks the hull of the ship.
Greying skies indicate the dangerous turn in weather, flecks of rain drenching his jacket and the flairs of his shirt’s sleeves that now begin to stick to the wood he’s grasping intently. He’s never had trouble with the helm, yet today he feels powerless against Mother Nature herself.
“Keep her steady!” Wilbur joins the shouting match of voices from below deck, barely heard over the roaring thunder and crash of waves. Techno tries to listen, but his head feels unclear— Something has got hold of his conscience.
“Did you hear me?!” Wilbur bellows, fingers latched onto the ratline ropes connecting to the sails to steady himself. His boots threaten to slide across the deck, staring wildly up at his brother whose body seemingly looks slack. “Techno—!”
The voice of his brother drowns out, replaced with one that’s far softer. It’s melodic, perfectly silky and smooth as it calls his name, sounding so delicate on their tongue. The sound is far too pretty to ignore, his body unwillingly succumbing to the chant that they provide.
It’s an unknown language, although not foreign— The man has travelled enough seas to know that this voice is familiar despite not ever hearing it until now. It reminds him of something he’s read, although he just can’t put his finger on it.
Every inch of his body submits to the songful voice that rings in ears, manifesting in his mind until his hands begin to move on their own— The ship now steering towards steep rocks.
Techno doesn’t have time to register the danger that his mind is taking him into before it’s too late, everything around him submerging into darkness as his ragged breaths and the crash of waves fall silent.
He isn’t sure how long he stays passed out for, but the rest isn’t unwelcomed. Every inch of his body feels sore when he finally comes back around to his senses, the taste of salt evident on his lips.
A grumble rises from deep in his chest as his eyes blink open, immediately closing once more when met with the harsh sunlight that has now peeked through the dark clouds— Not a single drop of rain to be seen.
His face is mushed against something far softer than the decking he was once stood on, forcing his eyes back open to be met with blurry visions of golden sand. His heart spikes at the joy of something so simple as the beach, only for it to plummet into the pit of his stomach when he realises he’s not on his ship.
“Dad—” His throat burns as he speaks, words tumbling from his mouth as more of a grunted whisper than a yell. 
His senses begin to re-emerge, gentle laps of the tide washing over the bottom of his feet.
“Need a hand?” The new voice scares him, body jolting up and over to spin himself onto his back. You tumble a few steps back yourself to avoid being kicked, staring down at the human boy curiously as his eyes widen in disbelief. “—Or a new pair of shoes, maybe? Those look a little beaten by the rain.”
Technoblade knows it’s rude to stare at someone’s appearance, but he can’t help but gawk at the shiny scales that coat patches of your arms where skin and flesh should be. Although he’s been made fun of for the natural pink pigment of his hair or the slight point to his ears, he’s never once seen anything like this before— At least not in real life.
“M...Mer…” He can barely get the word out, lips parted so widely in awe that his words drift off into a strained noise of excitement at his discovery. 
You can’t help but chuckle at his amazement, extending your arm out to offer him a hand. “Not quite. I apologise for your ship— I thought you might have been the village fishers.” Techno sits up slowly after taking your hand, fingers hesitantly letting go after he’s upright. “I know better than to mess with your kind.”
“Your voice…” He utters carefully, letting the sweet tone seep into his skin. He remembers it clearly now, the storm and the ship, the persistent voice in his head. “You… were in my head. I heard it.”
Smiling, you hold your hands up in surrender. “At least I know I’ve still got my charm.”
“Techno?!” His name is called in the distance, panic and distress laced in his father’s words. His head snaps towards the source of the sound briefly, before slowly looking back up to you. 
He focuses on your face this time rather than your body’s obvious markings.
“He’s been looking for you for a while now.” You admit, pacing around his body to stand behind him. Techno is quick to scramble to his feet, twisting his body so he’s able to keep you in his eyesight. “My song didn’t affect them as much as it did you.”
Phil rounds the corner of the large rocks he’d been hidden behind, sighing in relief when met with the face of his son. He’s quick to pace over to him, near-on ignoring your presence until he checks the boy over for cuts and scratches.
Once he confirms the boy isn’t harmed and Techno swats him away with blushy cheeks, Philza turns to you with a look that you’re certain could kill.
“You got into my boy’s head.” He states, watching you nod your head in almost obvious pride. 
“Of course I did. It’s my job.” You reply wittily, snaking a hand up Techno’s arm until your palm rests against his shoulder. He stiffens, embarrassed by the close contact. “His mind was very willingly open to me.”
Phil scoffs, crossing his arms. “You best be working that siren magic of yours to fix our ship before the morning, mate.” His threat falls on deaf ears, you being too occupied with staring at the side of Techno’s face. There’s something so incredibly beautiful about him that you can’t quite put your finger on— Apart from him being devilishly handsome, of course. “We’re meant to be looting islands for gold.”
“I can fix it, old man—” You insult jokingly, smiling proudly when you earn a snicker from Techno. Phil shoots a glare at his son, who pulls his lips taut at the sight. “Take me on board, I’ll assess the damage.”
The walk across the beach to the ship is done mostly in silence, apart from a few questions here and there. Most of them are quite simple: ‘What’s your name’, ‘are you really a siren’, ‘can you mind control my brother’. It had been harmless quizzing, things you were willing to explain to the young pirate who was one moment away from grabbing a journal to write your answers down in.
The ship is barely in disarray once you board it, met with two younger boys who you had assumed were the brothers Techno had been talking about. 
The first thing you notice is a large gash in the sails— Something you aim to fix quickly to avoid any more of Phil’s scolding.
“Well, well, well— What do we have here?” The tall brunette approaches you slowly, each stride of his walk making you take a step further back until you’re pressed against Techno’s side. “Aren’t you just a gorgeous thing?”
“And aren’t you just average—” You respond boredly, instead focusing on examining the woodwork of the ship. You miss the hurt look on Wilbur’s face from his first rejection, and the gloating grin of Techno’s upon noticing his brother’s expression. “I can whip this back into shape as soon as the moon’s at her peak—”
“Huh?” The young blonde lets out perplexed, matching his expression to his father’s. “Why the hell do you need to wait a day?”
“That’s siren magic for you, sweetheart.” You respond bluntly, wiggling your fingers at him with a smirk. “We harness our energy from the moon— I suggest you address me more kindly before I use that power on you instead of your boat.”
The boy, who had mumbled an introduction as ‘Tommy’, finally gives up his defensive façade. He warms up a little to you once he realises you’re a new friend to show off to, excitement coursing his veins at all the possible items he could be talking you through during the day.
You’re lucky Phil steps in, dragging not one but two of his ogling sons below deck to help clean. 
It leaves you and Techno alone.
“I think your dad is warming up to me.” You state honestly, dropping your confident act around him. Techno hums gently, trying to control his eyes so they don’t stare too widely.
His face contorts slightly, and it makes you hold back a laugh. “You’re a pirate who’s well-travelled, and yet you’ve never met a siren?”
He shakes his head softly, gesturing to a door that you assume leads towards the living quarters. “I-I read that you’re hard to come by.”
Technoblade walks off towards the door he’d just pointed at and you follow wordlessly without objection. The room is far too small to contain two beds but they just about fit, the frames near-on touching each other with how close they are.
You both manoeuvre towards one of the beds in the cabin, sitting gently when Techno gestures for you to do so. He kicks off his wet boots and socks, lighting a match that he throws into the small fireplace.
“Nice room.” You pick up a bra that had been lying across the floor, watching his cheeks flush an angry red.
The book in his hand shakes. “T-That’s not mine—”
“O-kay.” You drop the article of clothing back onto the floor, turning to face the man again. He holds up the book timidly, letting you read over its title.
“Mythology.” You recite the words printed over the cover, his lips turning up into the smallest of shy smiles.
“Yeah…” He mutters gently, opening the book to caress the front page gently with his fingertips. “I like reading, researching— S’the only thing I’m good at other than… y’know. Being who I am.”
You smile. “You mean being a pirate?” He grimaces at your blunt statement, face contorting with displeasure. His reaction shocks you, having never met a man of his lifestyle that seems so against his line of work. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Techno glances up at you once more, watching you take in your surroundings.
He’s never met someone like you— A person cursed to live amongst the waves for all eternity. His curiosity gets the best of him, mind wandering to places of pity: Had you been asked to do this for other ships? Work tirelessly over night to ensure they could live golden lives, only to leave you in the dust?
“Do you drain easily?” He asks out of the blue, catching your attention away from a stack of books that were neatly aligned amongst some shelves.
You tilt your head, eyes squinting in confusion. “Oh— You’re allowed to ask questions and I’m not?” You counter, his cheeks erupting into a blossom of red hues.
He laughs off his obvious embarrassment, adjusting his stance by coughing a few times. “Sorry— I just don’t- Uh- It’s hard to introduce myself as that. I feel like it gives people the wrong impression of me… of who I want to be, y’know?”
Although his gravelly tone had been incredibly appealing when you first met, you were far too invested in it now. Every word he spoke went down like silk, able to listen and understand the point he was making.
For someone who was gifted with the voice of a hundred angels, you wondered why fate had not binded his life to your species. He was good at getting people to listen.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” You reply gently, reaching a hand out to place gently on his knee. You feel him shiver under your touch, visibly moving. He’d never been touched so delicately by another person before, and part of you felt obliged to be the one to give him those experiences. “You carry your family’s name and work tirelessly to ensure it’s respected. That makes you admirable, at least to me.”
Techno has received compliments in the past, but none have ever made his stomach lift as much as yours just has. You hardly know him, and yet you’ve gone out of your way to make sure his family has a home for Christmas, as well as comforting him in times of need.
His books are nothing compared to the real thing. He thinks he could sit forever and learn about you. Not even medically— He wants to know your hobbies, dislikes, preferences. 
“You’re pretty admirable too,” He manages, extending his hand towards your face to brush a strand of hair from your eyes. You let him, eyes enraptured by his fond gaze. “You entered a stranger’s ship and offered help without anything in return.”
You smile, leaning into the warmth of his palm. “Yes… I do drain easily.” You answer his question from moments ago, his eyes lighting up with eagerness to learn more about your origin.
You can’t help but chuckle at his studious tendency, pulling from his touch in order to show off your arms. “The scales are a subtle reminder of that— Their glow, or lack thereof , indicates the power I have left.” Techno lets his hands unconsciously fall onto your skin, the pad of his thumb rubbing over it gently. You decide to continue. “I used most of it up when I lured your ship in.”
“I thought pirates were powerful, but you, darlin’— You’re just something else.” His compliment causes a blush of your own, the man being thankful that he’s not the only one suffering from this interaction. 
You try to come up with a witty reply to his words, but fall short. Instead, you distract yourself by picking up one of his books and flicking through the pages of so-called ‘facts’ on your species. You can’t help but chuckle at some of the words printed on the paper. “Wow— These stories sure are imaginative.”
Techno leans over your shoulder to stare down at the page, focusing on the sketch in the top corner of a group of merfolk perched on rocks. He looks back to you, settles on the soft curves of your face. “Are there more of you?”
Smirking, you shut the book vigorously. “Why? Are you bored of me already?”
“No—” Techno is quick to stumble out, reaching for you when you move off of his bed, a playful grin etched onto your face. “No, I like having you here, honestly! I just— Didn’t know if you had family, or something.”
His question holds good intentions, so you decide to answer honestly instead of lying to those who have asked you before. “No.” You speak softly yet firmly, eyes casting down towards your bare feet that are sticky with saltwater and sand. “It’s just me— At least in these plains of water. I guess that’s why I was so eager to help a bunch of strangers: It gets a bit lonely sometimes.”
You aren’t sure why you’re so open to your feelings with a man you barely know anything about, but there’s something about how captivated he was when listening to you that made you want to express it. 
And it isn’t due to your siren abilities— You ceased your songful voice a long time ago, last using it to lure in their ship. No, he was invested on his own accord, and it felt good to be seen by someone as more than just a ‘monster’ of the sea.
“So… How do you celebrate Christmas?” The man asks innocently, eyes focused intently. You chuckle at him, shaking your head when he squints quizzically at your laughter. 
“Christmas is just… another day of the year for me, I suppose.” You reminisce over the many years of your life that’s missed the festive celebrations. “But on the bright side— I get to rob lust-filled sailors of their gifted goods.”
Techno’s mouth falls open in shock at your blunt statement, eyes blown wide. You muffle your giggles by biting down on your lip, extending your arm out to offer his book back to him. “Sorry— Maybe keep that one from your father before he thinks I’m an even worse influence for you.”
It takes him a moment to spring back into action, his fingers overlapping yours as he takes the object from your grip. “I doubt he’d think that— You forget my family are pirates. Our Christmas day is fairly similar to your own.”
“Right.” You let out through a breath, smiling gently. “What about your Christmas eve? Any family traditions?”
Techno smiles, standing from his bed. “How about I show you instead?”
The breeze outside is a harsh reminder of the wintery month, leaving him shivering beneath his signature red coat. The rest of his family are scattered amongst the ship when they emerge from his living quarters, slowly joining the pair on their expedition around the boat.
He takes pride and joy in his tour of the S.S. Sleepy— Something you found intriguing when he’d mentioned the name stemmed from their inability to keep their eyes open for a normal amount of hours in the day.
Tommy is energetic and Wilbur is flirty, nothing you wouldn’t have guessed as you’re led up onto the forecastle deck, looking directly out at the ocean.
The water is calm today, a direct contrast to the steady flow of sleet that’s falling from above.
“This is your festive tradition?” You ask in disbelief, watching the younger blonde balance himself up and down the bowsprit that extends out of the front of the ship above the water. 
The three brothers nod their heads with confidence, watching Tommy jump back onto the deck. His arms flare out to bow at you all, a smug smirk on his face. “We’ve gotten good at it over the years.” He states proudly, taking a few steps forward to swap places with Techno.
“Why? Were you expecting mistletoe?” Wilbur’s voice is heavy against the side of your face, practically able to feel his breath from how close he is. “I’m sure I can find some for us.”
You roll your eyes at his advances, pushing away from his body to stand closer to Techno. He’s already stepped up onto the wooden pole himself, accurately balancing his body across the beam. You wait with baited breath as he takes each step further from the ship, only to spin expertly and near-on run his way back.
The smile on his face is breath-taking as you watch him bask in the glory of his victorious run, eyes scanning to yours to observe your reaction.
You flash a grin in return, slowly bringing your hands in front of your chest to give a slow yet impressed clap. “You’re very talented.”
“Did you not see my one?!” Tommy is quick to rebuttal, throwing his arms in the air for an exaggerated effect that does nothing to grab your attention any quicker. “Come on— I did so much better than that idiot.”
“Hey—” You cut him off before he can insult his brother anymore, looping your arm through Techno’s confidently. He stiffens beside you slightly before slowly relaxing into your touch. “Be nice to him or I’ll make sure your ship sinks.”
Your tone is a little harsher than you intend for it to be, watching the blonde boy scurry down to the cabins below. You’re almost positive he’s going to snitch on you to his father, so you deem it best to begin work.
Unhooking your arm from Techno’s takes a lot more willpower than you thought it would, pacing over to the mast slowly with Techno hot on your tail like a lost puppy. He follows you without a word, ignoring Wilbur’s death stares to the side of his head.
“It’s only the sail that needs replacing.” You state after observing the damage, the large rip caused by the turn in weather. Techno nods from beside you in understanding, waiting patiently for you to begin.
You laugh at his child-like curiosity, casting your eyes up towards the moon that’s slowly beginning to creep its way up into the sky. Your hands stretch out, palms facing the broken sail that sways and cracks gently in the wind.
Techno towers behind you, keeping watch.
You begin a soft hum of a tune he can’t quite understand, stepping to the side so he can observe your face. Your eyes are closed, brows knit in concentration— You look pretty like this, attractive even.
But then again, Technoblade finds most things you do attractive. 
The hum grows louder in volume, despite your face not straining to provide the sound, his head entranced by you with every passing second. He feels as though he’s above the clouds, floating gently to a heaven you’ve created just for him.
In fact, he’s so enraptured by your aura that he doesn’t take note of the way the sail sews her own seams, restored to a state that was much better than before you had accidentally gotten it damaged.
“Are you just gonna stand there instead of eating?” You pry, watching him snap back to reality. Your melodic voice drifts from his head, zoning in to hear the annoyed call of his name from Philza for his supper.
Techno shakes his head quickly, pointing shakily up towards the fixed sail. “That… Uh— Thank you.”
You smile sincerely, shifting from foot to foot. “...You’re welcome.”
The man scurries off down the stairs with a silly and bashful grin, the door opening and closing loudly behind him.
You take the opportunity in their absence to approach the railings, staring off at the shore you’d found the family at originally.
The night is in bloom now, the moon rising quicker than you would have hoped for it to. Even though the evening gave you a chance to recharge your abilities, it feels bittersweet knowing that when morning comes, you’ll have to leave this socialising behind.
You’ll have to leave him behind.
He was just a man— A simple yet beautiful man, one who wasn’t afraid of you or ready to use you for your powers.
He was everything you could ask for in another human being, and it made the thought of leaving that much harder.
The door crashes open once more, the sound of rubber boots increasing in volume as it nears closer. You push away from the railings and spin slowly, met with a smiley Technoblade holding two plates of food. “It’s not Christmas without a meal.”
“You know Christmas is tomorrow, right?” You remind him, despite how your body manoeuvres to sit upon the deck.
Techno places the plates down to prop up some piles of blankets and fabrics, providing a cosy chair for you to eat dinner on. “I know— But for someone who has never celebrated it, I thought you deserved to start early.”
He hands you the plate which you smile at, stomach rumbling at the selection of salted meats, beans, and vegetables. It’s a meal made with love, and you can’t help but enjoy it more when you finally tuck into it.
“Mmm….” You hum happily at the taste, just missing the way Techno’s ears tint pink at the noise, near-on blending into his hair. “Tell your dad he’s a good chef.”
He chuckles, stuffing the slab of meat into his mouth, savouring the taste. “He always goes full out during this time of year— I guess it’s one of those moments we can all genuinely relax.” His fork digs back into his meal, although this time he swirls it around the food rather than eating it, lost in thought. “Sometimes, being at sea constantly makes us lose calmer moments like this.”
The gentle sound of the moonlit waves are a nice background for your meal together, finishing much quicker than you wanted. The plates are practically licked clean by the time you’re both done, cast aside carelessly as you lie amongst the blankets together to observe the stars.
Your head stays beside his own, strands of his pink locks tickling the skin of your cheeks.
“Do you believe there’s more to life than this?” He asks gently, breaking the silence with his husky voice. You melt into it, closing your eyes to relive every second of his gravelly tone. “More than being ruthless— Having to steal other’s riches to live comfortably ourselves?”
“Maybe.” You ponder, fingers clasped over your stomach. “We’ll never know unless we sail the Earth to find it.”
Techno falls quiet for a moment before you feel his head turn to face you.
Your breath falters, letting your own head tilt to the side selfishly. Noses brush together gently, emitting warmth into both of you.
“Do you think people will love me despite who I am?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper as his breath fans across your face.
It makes you shiver, your own breath coming out in short and quiet pants. “I think they’d be a fool not to.”
A fleck of wetness drips onto your neck, followed by multiple others that begin to gather on your eyelashes.
Snow falls steadily upon you both as you lie under the moonlight, swayed gently on the ship by the waters below you.
Techno moves gently and precisely to shrug his jacket off, hesitantly letting go of his signature clothing article to lay across your shoulders.
The gesture is too kind to reveal that your siren nature shields you from the cold.
You smile at him, unsure of whether it’s about the jacket or the weather— But nonetheless, each moment with him feels as though it will never end.
And it doesn’t have to, as Techno pieces together his proposal on how he’ll ask you to stay with him, to sail the oceans by his side as you find the life you both desperately want together.
But that’s a matter for tomorrow. Right now, all he can think about is you.
You lean forward without another thought to plant a soft kiss to his lips, slightly chapped and cold from the winter air.
His body stutters slightly before you begin to feel his lips push back, moving in tangent with yours as his heartbeat rings loudly in his ears.
The kiss lasts for a short moment before you pull away, grinning ear-to-ear at the lovesick look on his face.
Only you didn’t have to compel this one from him. No song of yours had forced him this way; he was acting on his own free will.
He didn’t need to fall for your siren voice now that he’d fallen for you.
You stretch out your arms to grab a blanket, placing it over you both so you can cuddle under the stars. Techno feels warmer in your embrace when your head nuzzles into his chest, radiating a feeling of comfort and security that he’s lacked in his life so far.
“Merry Christmas, Technoblade...” You mutter softly, words drifting off to silence as you fall asleep in his arms.
Techno erupts into a softer smile, his hands delicately clasping onto your body to keep you protected. 
No longer did he feel like an outcast— Instead, for the first time in his life, he felt proud to be who he was.
And he was proud to figure out who he would become.
“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”
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taglist ;
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sunshinerainbowsbts · 6 months ago
All I Don't Want for Christmas Is You! | KSJ
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Pairing: Seokjin x Reader
Genre: smut, fluff, crack, holiday, enemies to lovers, Coworkers!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, choking, biting, dirty talking, orgasm delay, Jin has an enormous... ego, vaginal sex, a lot of terrible holiday puns
Word Count: 23.7K (I'M SO SORRY)
Disclaimers: NSFW, I don't own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: The holidays are here! But instead of celebrating, you're trapped in a town called Christmas with your office nemesis, Seokjin Motherfucking Kim, and an unruly band of clients. Can you survive the trip and secure the promotion your boss has promised? Or will Jin take you down?
A/N: This was written for the @btswritingcafe's Holiday Fic Exchange. Happy holidays, Mai @jinpanman!! 🐧🎄🎅I've had SO much fun being your Secret Santa, and I hope you've had fun as well. In addition to writing you this little story (I'M SO SORRY AGAIN IT'S SO LONG), I also created a Spotify playlist to go along with it! I really hope you enjoy the goofy holiday movie I basically wrote here. It's like Hallmark After Dark. 😂
This is unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to know what you think, my inbox is always open! 💕
Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Join my permanent taglist
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“Please, take a seat,” your boss invited as you entered the cavernous space that was his office. Someone was already sitting in the other chair in front of his sleek black desk. You glared at the back of their head, recognizing them immediately.
Seokjin Kim. Why was he here?
If you compared your company, Beyond the Sound, to a rose, then Jin would definitely be the thorn. A big ol’ prick. As the other junior talent manager at your company, he drove you insane. Whereas you chose to use skill and knowledge and your relentless drive to achieve your goals, he preferred to coast along on his charm. And his considerable good looks.
As much as it physically hurt you to think nice thoughts about him, you couldn’t deny that he was one gorgeous man. Tall, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a small waist. Long, thick black hair that kissed the nape of his neck and fell into his eyes when he didn’t wear it swept off his face.
And that face. Dark, expressive eyes that crinkled merrily when he laughed, which happened a lot when he was schmoozing clients. Plush lips that puckered when he was displeased, which happened a lot when you were around. Cheekbones and a jawline to die for.
It was a fucking perfect face and you hated it.
You took a seat, crossing your legs demurely as your boss, Sejin, cleared his throat.
“I’m sure by now you’ve both heard the news. Irene is leaving us.”
Since it had been the only topic of conversation around the office for the last two days, you had in fact heard the news. Irene, the company’s hotshot manager, was leaving for greener pastures (aka more money from a larger management firm).
“She’s leaving us in a bit of a lurch, too. But the company’s loss is your gain,” he continued, leaning forward and folding his hands on his desk. “I think it’s time for a promotion.”
You sat up slightly, as did Jin.
“I’ve been more than pleased with the two of you and how you’ve served the company over the last year. You’re both in line to be promoted. But, there’s only one spot available - the one being vacated by Irene.” Sejin paused, letting his words sink in.
One spot. Two candidates. You glanced at Jin, only to realize he was already looking at you. Assessing. Narrowing your eyes, you turned back to your boss.
Sejin stood and looked out the floor length windows that made up the back wall of his office, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed the city below the high-rise. “I mentioned earlier that Irene is leaving us in a bit of a tight spot. The two of you are familiar with Euphoria, correct?”
Of course you knew Euphoria. They were one of the company’s biggest clients, an incredibly popular band from South Korea who had helped make Beyond the Sound into the powerhouse it was. Volatile didn’t begin to describe the band - they were the most chaotic group of artists you’d ever come into contact with since you’d started working in the music industry.
Well, okay, you personally hadn’t had much face-to-face interaction with them, beyond a quick hello at a party or industry event here and there, but you’d heard plenty of horror stories during your time working at Beyond the Sound.
The three members each had their own distinct idiosyncrasies that made them difficult to manage. Lead singer Park Jimin was an incredibly gifted vocalist and guitarist who hypnotized fans with his sexy shenanigans on stage. Unfortunately, this also led to a lot of offstage sexy shenanigans, and your company was usually scrambling to cover up any potential scandals caused by his various romantic entanglements.
The bassist/saxophonist/keyboardist Taehyung (just the one name, like he was Adele) was a renaissance man and a true artiste. Unfortunately, he took that second label extremely seriously, and was prone to flaking on public appearances or locking himself in his studio for days on end if he felt something or someone was interfering with his “vision.”
And then there was the drummer, Jeon Jungkook. Essentially the human version of Animal from the Muppets, he was loud, unruly, and prone to literally running amuck while the other two members were usually arguing.
They were exclusively Irene’s responsibility.
Sejin appeared to be waiting for an answer, so you and Jin both chirped, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. The band is releasing a holiday album this year - titled “Sleigh, What?!” - and in order to drum up publicity for it, they’re putting on an exclusive one-night-only concert, to be streamed around the world.”
Ah, so the rumors were true.
Euphoria reinvented themselves with every new album. Their first album was r&b-influenced boy band pop; the second, a punk rock fantasia; and their last, an ear-shattering mashup of screamo metal and EDM that left fans confused and led to a short-lived breakup followed by an immediate reunion. From what Sejin was saying, apparently they’d decided the best way to score a big comeback was with a collection of festive tunes. You’d heard whispers about the album through the office grapevine, but had chalked it up to a joke, assuming someone was mocking the band’s tendency to swing wildly from one genre to another.
Clearly, you’d been wrong.
“When and where is the concert?” Jin asked as you pulled out your phone to take notes. He arched a thick eyebrow, glancing at your phone, then tapped his temple, implying that he didn’t need to write anything down. Rolling your eyes, you waited for your boss to answer the question.
“Next month, the week before Christmas. And it’s being held in Christmas.”
“It’s… what?” Jin tipped his head as you paused in your typing.
“They’re putting on a concert in Christmas. As in the town about 1500 miles from here, in the Northeast. We struck a deal with the mayor - he’s letting us put on a show there to promote the album and his little middle-of-nowhere village gets major press for hosting one of the world’s hottest bands.”
You frowned as your thumbs tapped across your screen. “Wait a minute… I think I’ve heard of this town,” you stated, looking up from your notes. “It’s a real tourist trap, isn’t it? They have a Christmas-themed store that’s open year round, and all the mail stamped in the Post Office says “North Pole” on it, that kind of thing, right?”
Jin laughed. You winced, annoyed at his mirth. “Sounds like the setting for a Hallmark movie.”
Sejin nodded, returning to his desk. “Yes, and that’s exactly why we chose it. We really want to lean into the homespun holidays character of the place. The goal is for people to associate Euphoria with Christmas - both the town and the holiday - so that when the album drops, they’ll all buy it. Spread that magical cheer in their own houses with it.” He paused. “Or whatever. You get the idea.”
It was a cynical cash-grab, in other words. Just another day at the office.
“Everything has already been arranged - travel details, lodging, venue, an interview with that dreadful morning show Rise and Shine!, and so on. Irene has done her usual job of making sure everything is squared away down to the final letter.”
“So, what do you need me to do?” Jin asked.
You scowled before correcting him. “What do you need us to do, sir?”
Sejin smiled, but it seemed less comforting and more apologetic. “We need you to go to Christmas with the band. Both of you, together.”
If you’d had a piece of coal in your mouth, you would’ve produced a diamond from grinding your teeth so hard.
You didn’t want to go to this cheesy little town called Christmas, especially this close to the holidays, when the place would be swarming with crowds of sightseers. You didn’t want to have to babysit Euphoria and try to keep them from imploding yet again. But most of all, you absolutely did not want to be stuck in that tiny village supervising the band with Seokjin Motherfucking Kim.
What the hell did you do in a past life to deserve this?
“You’ll be responsible for ensuring that Euphoria makes it to all of their scheduled events. Especially the concert. Look, I’ll be frank.” He removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “If they miss the interview or the meet and greet we’ve arranged, it will be unfortunate, but not the end of the world. But they cannot miss this concert! We need this performance to revive their fanbase and boost their album onto the charts. If “Sleigh, What?!” tanks….” he trailed off, looking at you and Jin in turn. “Then Irene won’t be the only one leaving Beyond the Sound.’
Well, fuck. Basically, if you and Jin didn’t pull this off, one or both of you would be fired? Fantastic. Just the cherry on top of this crap sundae.
“No problem, boss,” Jin cooed, shooting Sejin a set of finger guns. You grimaced. How had this guy’s schtick not worn thin by now?
If your boss found Jin as corny as you did, he didn’t let on. Instead, he simply nodded. “I have the utmost faith in both of you to handle this situation. I know everything will run smoothly and according to plan under your supervision.” He glanced at the shiny, undoubtedly expensive watch that adorned his wrist. “Please reach out to Irene for your travel details and itineraries. She’ll have everything you need.”
You rose to your feet. “Thank you, sir.” Spinning, you swiftly stalked towards the door, Jin close on your heels.
“Looks like we’ll be spending Christmas together, Princess,” he drawled as his long legs quickly caught him up until he was walking by your side.
“No, we’ll be working together before Christmas, and how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” you retorted, firing him a dirty look. He just grinned, holding the door open for you to exit your boss’s office. You didn’t bother to thank him, but that didn’t deter him from continuing to walk with you.
Jin had gifted you with that nickname during your very first week at work. One of the managers you were shadowing offered to buy the two of you lunch as a reward for a stressful day of training, handling a temperamental solo act. Fresh out of grad school, you were broke and more than appreciated a free meal. But you were a bit particular about your order and took a long time, and for some reason Jin decided that made you a princess.
So you were a woman who knew what you wanted and weren’t afraid to ask for it. Was that really such a bad thing?
The nickname drove you crazy. You weren’t a princess, some fairytale creature who would only have value in relation to the men in her life - the prince or the king. Fuck that noise. You stood on your own two feet and claimed your own victories.
Yet no matter how many times you asked him to stop, Jin refused to listen. Now, a year later, the pet name persisted, a constant reminder of how aggravating he was.
After a few minutes of walking briskly, trying but failing to shake Jin, you arrived at Irene’s office. Knocking on the door, a quiet voice called for you to enter.
If there were a pecking order at Beyond the Sound, Irene would stand at the top of the pack. She was everything you aspired to be - glamorous, perfectly put together, and fierce as hell. No one fucked with Irene. Not even Jin. He knew she’d rip him to shreds with her signature blood-red stiletto fingernails and not break a sweat. Or a perfectly manicured nail.
You really wished you knew her secrets.
“So, Sejin saddled you two with Euphoria duty, huh?” she inquired, gesturing for you both to take a seat.
“I’d say unfortunately yes, but you’ve been stuck with them for years, so it doesn’t feel right to complain,” you responded.
Irene smiled. “They’re not so bad if you keep them in hand. I advise you to set a firm line with them from the start.” She eyed the two of you carefully. “The guys can be very charming when they want to be. Don’t fall for it.”
She looked directly at you when she said that last statement, and you frowned. Was she suggesting…?
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she keeps it professional,” Jin smirked. “No client/manager relations on my watch.”
“Excuse me, are you questioning my ethics?” you snapped, rounding on your coworker. “I certainly do not need you telling me how to do my job or - or monitoring my interactions with my clients!”
“Of course you don’t, Princess. Forgive me,” he apologized, but his grin belied his words. “But maybe I’ll just keep a sharp watch just in case.”
“I will email you all the info for the trip - flights, lodging, itineraries,” Irene ignored your sniping, as everyone in the office was long accustomed to the two of you squabbling. “Every day has been planned down to the last minute. All you have to do is make sure the band sticks to the schedule.”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jin trilled, and you fought the urge to gag.
“Thank you, Irene,” you replied graciously. “Your hard work won’t go to waste, I assure you.”
Irene just smiled, a vicious grin that actually sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, truly, I don’t care! By the end of the week, Euphoria will simply be an unpleasant memory for me. They’re your problem now!”
As you left her office, Jin snickered. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really looking forward to this trip even more now.”
You spun to look at him. “You know what I’m looking forward to? Getting the promotion.”
“Oh, you think it’s yours already?”
Stepping closer, you glowered up at him. “I know it is.”
“We’ll just see about that, Princess.” He winked, walking backwards as he headed towards his workspace. “Can’t wait to see you all bundled up for the chilly weather. Bet you look real cute in earmuffs.”
You clenched your fists so hard, your nails nearly drew blood. You couldn’t wait to kick that jerk’s ass. That promotion was yours.
As irritating as the nickname was, it wasn’t Jin calling you Princess that made you hate him.
It was the Nevamind incident.
A few months into your time with Beyond the Sound, the company tapped you to work with a recently signed artist, an up-and-coming rapper who went by the stage name Nevamind. He’d been building buzz online with a series of mix tapes featuring brilliant lyrics and ridiculous beats, and it would be your job to get him ready for his debut album release.
For several days and a few long nights, you threw your every waking moment into creating an action plan for the rapper. You wanted to show your boss that you were ready to handle managing on your own, so you worked your ass off to prepare.
Excited, you showed up to the first meeting with the artist feeling nervous, but ready to share your ideas.
Only to find Jin waiting to meet with Nevamind as well.
“What are you doing here?” you blurted out, staring at your coworker who had risen from his seat at the conference table, expecting the rapper to be the one walking through the door instead of you.
“I’m presenting to Nevamind, obviously. What are you doing here, Princess?” he responded with wide eyes.
“Uh, no, I’m the one doing the pitching! And don’t call me that!”
“Actually, you’re both pitching,” Sejin declared, entering the room behind you.
Apparently, there had been a misunderstanding. You weren’t assigned to help Nevamind, you were being asked to present your ideas to him. Along with Jin. Whomever the artist picked (with your boss’s input, of course) would become his manager.
This mix-up didn’t rattle you. No, if anything, this simply fueled you even more, now that it was literally a contest. Forget your anxiety - you were fired up, determined to win.
Jin sold his idea first. It was hardly a proposal - no slideshow, no binders showing statistics, just a measly single page handout. And him mostly talking off the cuff, flashing that killer smile, even throwing in a wink or two as he promised the moon to the rapper.
You were aghast at your coworker’s breezy attitude. Was that how he worked? Did he really care so little? He wasn’t just unprofessional, he was a total buffoon. It was all you could do not to laugh during the entire meeting, since your boss was also present.
Then it was your turn. Nevamind seemed to agree with the plan you painstakingly laid out with your multimedia presentation - interviews with some huge media outlets, a series of streaming episodes giving a behind-the-scenes look at the album’s completion, and then a major party to celebrate the release. You even got a bit of a flirty vibe from the rapper, but you quickly shut that down, wanting to maintain a firm boundary between work and pleasure. By the time you left, you were more than confident that Nevamind would be your first client.
Instead, a week later, that asshole was announced as the rapper’s manager. All your hard work went down the drain.
How on earth had that guy won? Flabbergasted, you turned to your coworkers for an explanation. Everyone had their theories - Nevamind preferred a male manager, or Jin blackmailed your boss for the job, and so on. The rumor mill churned, but you never got a satisfactory answer, and you stewed in your anger, knowing that your plan was the better choice.
Within a month, Nevamind had terminated his contract with Beyond the Sound. Jin managed to fuck it up somehow, and that just stoked the flames of your wrath.
At a happy hour gathering a week after Nevamind dumped your company, you found Jin sitting alone at the bar, looking slightly rumpled in his designer suit. Sliding onto a stool next to him, you ordered a drink before swiveling to face him.
“So. How’d you fuck it up, Jin?”
He didn’t reply, just shot you a glare.
“I still don’t understand how you even got the assignment in the first place. That proposal of yours was a joke.” Several whiskeys into your night, all the nasty things you’d been thinking about your coworker started to slip from your lips.
He set his gin and tonic on the bar and regarded you carefully. “I got the job because I’m good at what I do. Maybe managing isn’t all about statistics and powerpoint slides. Did you ever consider that?”
“Maybe not, but this job requires a hell of a lot more effort than what you give, Jin. I mean, that’s pretty evident considering your first client fired you within a month. Perhaps next time, you might try actually working?” You swirled your drink with the little stir stick, tapping it against the rim of the glass to emphasize your point.
Again, he leveled a long glance at you, taking his time before answering. “You know what? Believe what you want to. I’m sure you will no matter what I say. That seems to be how you operate.”
“Whatever,” you shot back. Not the most eloquent comeback, but you were too tipsy to care. “Just don’t expect it to happen again. You winning, I mean. That was a fluke. Next time, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
“Is that so?” He tossed back the rest of his drink, rising from his seat. “Then bring it on, Princess. Show me what you’ve got.”
“You can’t handle what I’ve got, Jin.” Wait, was that what you’d meant to say? Maybe not, but you were flustered by how close he stood to you, and whatever you’d intended to say had gotten lost in the ether.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find Jin attractive. Even though he vexed you with everything he said and, well, everything he did, too, you still found yourself distracted by his stunning looks.
Your pulse began to race as he examined you with those dark eyes, wandering slowly over your frame. He towered over you as you peered up at him, and your breath hitched as he bent towards you.
“But I bet you wish I’d try, right?” he whispered, hot breath tickling your ear as he exhaled. You shuddered, and with a smirk he walked away, leaving you sitting alone, head spinning.
From that moment on, he shot to the top of your hit list. Seokjin Kim, enemy number one.
Three days, four nights. That was how long you’d be in Christmas. That was how long you’d have to suffer through this nightmarish work assignment with your nemesis. You could do this.
You chanted those words to yourself as the days flew by after your meeting with Sejin. Over and over again, repeating them until they became your mantra.
But now, sitting on the private jet, on your way to Christmas, you were starting to doubt. Just a little.
Introducing yourself to the band went better than you expected, given all the awful testimonies about the members that your coworkers had told. Each had politely greeted you and bowed.
Good to know they had some manners after all.
In the meantime, Jin strutted onto the plane looking like he’d just walked off the runway in Paris, wearing a gorgeous three-piece navy suit underneath a stunning long red and black plaid coat. The entire ensemble was Louis Vuitton, which you knew only because he wouldn’t stop yapping about how he’d had to show the boutique’s sales person his company ID because she didn’t believe him when he said he wasn’t a model.
Was it possible for a person’s eyes to roll right out of their head? You feared you might find out on this trip.
But seriously, who flew in a suit?
Not that Jin was the only one taking advantage of your travels to purchase a new wardrobe. Flying to the wintry northern half of the country meant you’d bought a few essentials - some cozy sweaters, wool skirts, thick tights and several pairs of boots (both dress and snow). You’d also splurged on a Burberry puffer coat and a pair of Gucci leather gloves, in matching black, to help keep you warm.
The perks of having a company card.
Once the plane took off, you’d intended on using the time to review the week’s itinerary as well as to set some ground rules with the band. But you might as well have tried to fly across the country by flapping your arms. You’d have had a better chance of accomplishing that.
“Guys, can we please focus?” you implored the group for the fifth time. No one responded. Jimin flirted with the flight attendant while Taehyung read an intimidatingly thick book on the history of jazz rock. Jungkook had completely tuned out, a giant pair of VR goggles on his handsome face as he played some game.
Meanwhile, Jin was sitting across from you, doing nothing to disguise his laughter at your struggle to get the band’s attention.
You scowled. “You know, this is important for you, too. Do I need to remind you what is at stake here?”
Jin sighed. “Oh, take a breath, Princess. Let them settle in a bit, then we’ll run through the schedule. They’re literally a captive audience.” He cocked his head, considering. “Although Jungkook is an experienced skydiver, so I wouldn’t put it past him to jump out the door at any moment. Though I hope the lack of parachutes would at least give him pause.”
“Fine.” Leaning back in your seat, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your notes. Jin leaned over to gawk at your screen. “Excuse me! Do you mind?”
“Just curious if you were actually going to relax. Doesn’t appear so,” he replied, flagging down the flight attendant. “Can I get a whiskey, neat? Thank you.” “Really? Drinking at this time of day?” It was only just past noon when you’d finally taken off. Jin shrugged. “I fly better when I’m a little tipsy. Plus, if you’re going to be this tightly wound, I’m going to need to be even looser. You’re giving me second-hand anxiety.”
“God forbid you be serious about your job for once,” you muttered under your breath.
The flight attendant brought Jin his drink and he smiled politely before giving you a scrutinizing look. “I’m perfectly serious about this job. I just have my own methods for getting results.” He winked, and you clicked your tongue in disgust. “What I want to know is, do you ever relax? Let your hair down, allow yourself to have a little fun while you’re working?”
“I have plenty of fun,” you sniffed, grabbing the pashmina shawl you’d stuffed into your carry-on and wrapping it around your shoulders. You always froze on flights. “But I don’t let it interfere with my responsibilities. The job comes first.”
“That’s where you and I differ, then. Fun comes first.”
“You mean, you come first,” you rejoined.
Jin smirked, and you realized you’d walked into a trap. “Oh no, it’s only fun for me if others come first. I always make sure of that.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Every time.”
Cursing yourself for setting him up, you closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the headrest of your plush leather seat, hoping he’d take the hint and stop talking. He did, but not before you heard him snickering to himself.
Three days, four nights. The clock was ticking.
The closest airport to your final destination was two hours away, so a chartered bus had been set up to transport you and the band. Most of their equipment and belongings had already been sent ahead of them, so a whole bus wasn’t technically necessary, but you appreciated having a little space.
Because the guys were driving you insane.
Halfway through the five hour flight, you’d awoken to the dulcet tones of Jimin and Taehyung arguing. As usual, Jin was useless, somehow sleeping through the loud curse words pinging around the cabin of the plane. You wondered how many glasses of whiskey it had taken to knock him out like that. Jungkook still had his headset on, but he was now pacing around playing some sort of dueling game that had him pretending to slice everyone in half with a joystick sword.
It turned out to be a fight about nothing - an argument over which movie to watch - but it was enough to give you a slight headache. Which did not bode well considering you were only slightly over two hours into your whole trip. But you stepped in and calmed them down, promising they could both watch whatever they wanted since they weren’t even sharing a screen, and then collapsed into your seat, hoping to rest. Discussing the week’s plans would have to wait until later, when your coworker would be more helpful. Or at least conscious.
On the bus, you took a seat near the front, frowning as Jin slid in beside you.
“Really?” you asked, gesturing wildly. “All these empty seats?”
“Yah, calm down, I just wanted to see if you wanted to go over the schedule now, while everyone’s still awake and quiet.”
That was actually a useful suggestion. Color you shocked.
“I suppose this would be the most opportune time,” you conceded, standing up to gaze at the members who had strewn themselves across seats scattered throughout the bus. Jin followed as you staggered down the aisle towards the band, the swaying of the bus making it difficult to walk a straight line.
“Uh-oh, here come Mom and Dad,” Jimin sniggered, legs dangling over the armrest of his seat. His pink hair hung in his face as yawned widely. “Are we in trouble again?”
Nope. You didn’t care for that one bit.
“I’ll thank you for addressing us both by name, Park,” you declared, and he quirked an eyebrow at your commanding tone, lips twisting into a smirk. His eyes ran up and down your figure as you stared him down.
“Yes, noona,” he purred, arching an eyebrow. Irene’s warning echoed in your ears.
You were going to have to tread carefully with this one.
Jin said nothing, seemingly content to let you run things, surprise surprise. You continued.
“I know you’ve all been given copies of this week’s schedule, one printed and included in your carry-ons and one emailed, but I thought we should run through it just to confirm that we’re all on the same page.”
No one answered. You plowed on.
“Tonight, we just need to settle in. The bed & breakfast we’re staying at has been completely booked by us, so we have the whole house to ourselves. It’s the,” you consulted your notes, “Blitzen Inn. The proprietors have assured us that we will have total privacy there, since it’s fairly out of the way.”
“Wait, we’re staying at a bed & breakfast, noona? Not a hotel?” Taehyung piped up, removing his gigantic headphones, shaking out his silvery-white locks.
“That is correct. Despite the tourist trap nature of this place, it’s a pretty small town, so they don’t have a lot of lodging options.” And most of the hotel rooms had been booked by the fans who would be attending the concert.
“So no room service? No on-call masseuses?” Taehyung pouted. “No free mini bottles of shampoo?”
“You’re a millionaire, Tae, you can buy all the shampoo you want,” Jin commented.
“But I like the little bottles.”
“Anyway. Tomorrow there is an early morning interview with Rise and Shine! You’ll be joined by the mayor for that as well, and the local newspaper will be there, taking photos. We’ll be at the venue for the taping, and then in the afternoon you’ll have time to rehearse. Thursday morning is more rehearsal time and then a fan signing event at Santa’s Workshop, a holiday-themed store that will be the first place to stock your album. And then of course Friday is the concert. Saturday morning, we’re back on the jet and heading home.” You glanced up. “Any questions?”
“Will they have little bottles of shampoo at the bed & breakfast?”
“Does anyone else have any other questions?”
Jungkook raised his hand.
“You don’t have to raise your hand, Jungkook. What’s your question?”
“Noona, how does it work, exactly? Do they serve us breakfast in bed?”
You turned to your coworker, who had stretched his long frame across two seats, cackling as he listened. “Do you want to help me out here?”
Jin sighed, sitting up. “Do you guys have any questions about the schedule? It’s not too packed, but it’s important that we stick to it very carefully.”
Three heads shook no.
“Great! Then just relax for a bit. We should be at the Blitzen Inn in about another ninety minutes or so.” Jin laid back, his tiny bit of effort completed for the day. He’d probably exhausted himself.
Sighing, you trekked back to the front of the bus, taking a window seat and slinging your legs onto the space next to you so as to prevent anyone (Jin) from sitting there.
“I think that went well.”
Apparently, he’d decided to sit right behind you. His face appeared over your shoulder, in the space between the back of your seat and the window.
You snorted. ��Of course you do. You didn’t do anything.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Well, you did stay conscious for the whole discussion, so I suppose that’s something.”
His laughter made you grimace. You reminded yourself that you just had to put up with him for a few days. Once that promotion kicked in, hopefully you wouldn’t have to deal with his bullshit again.
You leaned against the window, staring at the scenery as the bus trundled along. It was certainly a different view than what you were used to, living on the west coast. Verdant mountains rolled across the horizon as the sun began to sink from view. Exhausted after a stressful flight, your eyes began to droop as the bus’s rhythmic bouncing lulled you to sleep.
The Blitzen Inn stood at the edge of town. Two rows of tall pine trees lined the winding road leading to the inn. The bus barely fit, but thankfully no other vehicles were approaching from the opposite direction.
Stretching, you took a moment to admire the house as the bus approached. A white two-story colonial with black shutters and a wraparound porch, decorated with hanging garlands and a large green wreath with a big red bow on the front door, it very much looked like something straight out of a holiday movie.
A garden took up one entire side of the house, though it had been turned over for winter. Around the other side of the house stood a large white gazebo, adorned with strands of white Christmas lights. Behind the house was nothing but trees, as the house was nestled against the border of a forest.
Green trees, green grass, green everywhere. How disappointing. The temperatures had been unusually warm in this region for this time of year, according to the weather reports you’d watched religiously in the week prior to leaving home. Having grown up in the land of sand and sun, you were hoping to see some snow on this trip. Just a little would do - enough to turn the land into a sea of white.
Ah, well. This was a business trip, and there was more than enough to focus on besides pining for snow.
The bus gradually rolled to a stop and you disembarked, boots crunching on gravel as you strolled towards the house. Your breath hung in the chilly night air, tiny puffs that dissipated as you walked, and you pulled your coat a little tighter around you. Once again, Jin nipped at your heels.
Two men waited by the door, a platinum blond who wore a blindingly bright smile and a smaller, slighter man with hair black as night who merely blinked languorously as you neared.
“Good evening,” the blond man greeted you, bowing slightly. “You must be Ms. _. Welcome to our home!”
You bowed in return. “Thank you.” You instructed him to call you by your first name. “This is my colleague, Seokjin Kim.”
“Call me Jin,” he said, bowing.
“I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi, and this is my husband Yoongi,” the blond man introduced himself and the dark-haired man, who simply nodded.
You turned to introduce the band, but none of them had reached the porch yet. Jimin and Taehyung were standing in front of the bus, bickering about who would get to stay in the presidential suite (neither aware that the bed and breakfast did not have suites), and Jungkook was sitting in the gazebo, silently gazing up at the lights hanging above.
Huffing out a sigh, you gestured. “That’s Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. They’ll be along in a minute.”
“No rush, they’re welcome to explore the grounds,” Hobi replied with another grin. “Why don’t we help you bring in your bags and then we’ll show you to your rooms? I’m sure after all that traveling, you’re about ready to crash.”
Luggage in hand, Hobi took you on a quick tour. Despite its large size, the interior of the house was incredibly cozy. There were six guest rooms upstairs, each with its own bath. Downstairs, there was a kitchen, dining room, another bathroom, sitting room, and library. The owners had a master suite down a hallway in the back.
You tried not to gawk, but it honestly felt like you were walking through an issue of Architectural Digest. Hardwood floors, wooden ceiling beams, and dark wood accents flowed throughout. All of the rooms downstairs had fireplaces, and the sitting room also included a baby grand piano tucked into the corner. The decor was an intriguing mix of antique and modern, from an exquisitely carved dining room table and chairs to a comfy couch straight out of a Swedish furniture catalog. And Christmas decorations had been stuffed into every available nook and cranny, with more poinsettias, wreaths, and Christmas trees than you’d ever seen in one house.
Walking through the house felt like touring Martha Stewart’s wet dream.
“How do we want to divide up the rooms?” Jin asked as you climbed the stairs.
“I don’t think it really matters, unless someone has a preference,” you responded. You followed Hobi to the end of the hall. “I'll take the first room down here.” Hobi nodded, carrying your bags inside for you.
“Then I’ll take the next,” Jin said. “Unless you’d prefer to share?”
What a stupid question. You stopped to gawk at him. “Why the fuck would I want to do that??”
Hobi returned to the other end of the hallway, where the band members were attempting to determine which room was the largest, despite multiple assurances that they were all the same size.
Jin leaned against the doorway of his room.
“Have you ever vacationed in this part of the country before during the winter?”
“Well,” his voice dropped low, “it gets awfully cold out here at night. You might want something to snuggle up to. Keep you warm.”
“And what, you’re offering yourself as an option?”
“If you’d like.”
You’d spent a lot of time working with this man, and most of it glaring at his handsome face in exasperation or disgust. He often gazed back at you with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. And there it was again.
But there was a tiny glimmer of something else, too. Something that made a slow heat crawl along your neck, despite the loathing that flowed through your veins.
Before you could even begin to envision his suggestion, you shut it down.
“That’s what blankets are for, Jin,” you sneered, opening the door to your room and slipping inside before he could reply.
Needing a few moments to yourself, you surveyed your room. A king-sized bed lay in the center of the room, covered in a fluffy stack of pillows and a plush down comforter. In the bathroom, you found a claw-footed tub, shower stall, and pedestal sink, and a soft white robe hung on the back of the door. Fresh white roses arranged in a slim vase greeted you on your nightstand.
The room would’ve been perfect for a relaxing vacation or romantic getaway. Too bad you were stuck on the work assignment from hell.
After freshening up a little, you rejoined the group downstairs. Everyone had gathered at the dining room table, which Yoongi had piled high with snacks - charcuterie boards overflowing with meats and cheeses, plates of crackers and toasted breads, and multiple platters of every Christmas cookie you could think of and even a few you didn’t recognize. You were more exhausted than hungry, so you nibbled on a gingerbread cookie while rehydrating.
“We received your itinerary,” Hobi informed you as he placed another platter of assorted cookies on the table. “Since you’re our only guests this week, we’ve adjusted our meal times to meet your needs.”
“Thank you, that’s wonderful,” you replied. “We appreciate your flexibility.”
“Of course. If there’s anything else we can do for you while you’re here, just let us know. Our home is your home.” He smiled and excused himself to join Yoongi in the kitchen.
The band chattered happily amongst themselves as they gorged on the delicious treats. You scrolled idly through your phone as Jin leaned across the table towards you.
“Care to join me for a nightcap? Hobi gave me a tour of the sitting room while you were upstairs and there’s a decanter of whiskey in there with my name on it.”
You glanced up. “A nightcap? Don’t you think you should get to bed so we can get a good start tomorrow? We have to be at the venue early for the interview.”
“Oh, come on, just one drink. It’s been a long day. Let go a little.” He waved his hand. “You know everything’s all set for tomorrow. But if it’ll ease your mind, we can still discuss the itinerary while we drink.”
Seokjin Kim, focusing on work for once? This you had to see.
“Fine. Just one.”
A pair of gorgeous red velvet couches sat on either side of the ornamental rug in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. Curling up on the corner of one, you tucked your legs underneath you as Jin played bartender with the decanter.
Handing you a tumbler, he lifted his in a toast. “To a successful trip.”
“To my promotion,” you countered with a grin.
“Okay, Princess, let’s just enjoy the drink, shall we?”
You dutifully clinked your glass against his, then brought it to your lips.
The delicious aroma washed over you as you swirled the brown liquor in your glass before taking your first sip. As the liquid coated your tongue, you held it there, savoring for a moment before swallowing.
“Mmm,” Jin hummed, inspecting his glass. “I think I need a bottle of this.” He smacked his lips obnoxiously.
Turning the glass around in your hands, you stared at the gentle sloshing of the liquor. “It’s sweeter than I typically prefer, but still has a bit of bite to it.”
Jin cocked an eyebrow. “You some kind of whiskey connoisseur?”
“Maybe,” you retorted, chin jutting out. “I’ve tasted enough to know what I like.”
Whatever dumb rejoinder was forming on Jin’s lips was interrupted by Mariah Carey.
🎵 All I want for Christmas is yoooooou 🎶
You cocked an eyebrow at his choice of ringtone.
“Tis the season,” he grinned, answering. “Go for Seokjin.”
Fuck, he even answered his phone like a tool.
“Hello, sir,” he suddenly sat bolt upright, glancing at you. “Yes, she’s here. Of course, one moment.” He set the phone between you on the couch.
“Okay, sir.”
“Good evening,” your boss’s voice boomed. “I assume there weren’t any problems with your flight?”
“No, sir,” you replied, frowning. Your boss wasn’t the type to micromanage, and he definitely wasn’t the type to phone just to exchange pleasantries. If he was calling, it meant he was extremely stressed about this album release.
“Good. The band isn’t giving you any trouble?”
“No, sir.”
“No issues with your travel or lodging arrangements?”
“No, sir.” You felt like a broken record, repeating yourself.
“Good, good. And everything is all set for tomorrow’s interview?”
Jin finally jumped in. “Everything is completely taken care of, sir. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. I give you my word that by the time you’re awake tomorrow, Euphoria’s Rise and Shine! Interview will be the top trending item on every social media platform.”
Stabbing the mute button on his phone, you turned to your coworker as your boss expressed how pleased he was to hear Jin’s response. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep!”
He clucked his tongue. “Have some faith, Princess. I know what I’m doing.” He unmuted the phone as Sejin began to wind down. “Thank you for checking in, sir. I really appreciate it. We’ll have Euphoria back in the number one spot by the time we touch down back home on Saturday!”
“Let’s hope so. That promotion is riding on it. For one of you, anyway.” As if you could forget. “Have a good evening.”
“You too, sir!” Jin pocketed his phone as he finished his whiskey.
“Holy shit, Jin, do you always have to kiss so much ass? How the fuck hasn’t Sejin gotten tired of your bullshit yet?”
“Are you jealous? I can kiss your ass too, if you want. Or anywhere else you’d like.” He puckered cartoonishly.
A gagging noise was your response, making him laugh. His stuttering windshield wiper giggle hit you like nails on a chalkboard.
You drained the last drop of your whiskey and stood. “Okay, I’m calling it. Good night, Jin.”
“Good night, Princess. Don’t forget - I’m just a wall away if you need me.”
You just rolled your eyes, dodging as he blew you a kiss. That ridiculous squawk of a giggle followed you up the stairs to your bedroom, where you closed the door with an exhausted sigh.
Saturday couldn’t arrive fast enough.
At five am on the dot, you tossed back the plush blankets on your ridiculously comfy bed and climbed out. Pausing by the window, you glanced out at the forest behind the house. Dawn was still several hours away, so the world outside was cloaked in darkness. Not an early riser by nature, you sighed, shuffling off to shower yourself awake.
To your complete lack of surprise, you were the first to arrive downstairs. Hobi sat at the dining room table, sipping on a mug of coffee, while Yoongi bustled back and forth from the kitchen, arms laden with plates of food - sausages, bacon, home fries, pancakes, basically any breakfast food you could think of, he brought out.
“Good morning,” Hobi beamed.
“Good morning.” Taking a seat, you smiled gratefully at Yoongi as he set a steaming mug of coffee in front of you. “Yoongi, you’ve outdone yourself. This is a veritable feast!”
“That’s my Yoongi,” Hobi cooed, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “Always spoiling everyone.” Yoongi dipped his head in embarrassment, but not before you caught a little gummy smile lighting up his handsome face.
Feet pounded down the stairs, and Jungkook stuck his head into the dining room, purple hair bouncing. “Oh shit, that looks good!” he crowed, grabbing a plate and loading it with food. Jin arrived not long after, and followed suit. Jimin and Taehyung drifted down last, immediately digging into Yoongi’s banquet.
Jin was once again dressed to kill in another crisply tailored suit, this time in charcoal grey, a white tie expertly knotted at his throat. Meanwhile, you had dressed in a chunky oversized sweater and thick wool skirt with your knee-high boots, wanting to look stylish while staying warm at the concert venue.
And then there was the band.
Of the three, Jimin was the most casually dressed, if one could consider wearing a two thousand dollar red satin Saint Laurent jacket to be “casual.” Underneath, he wore a simple white t-shirt, with several long necklaces dangling on his chest, and black jeans. Taehyung appeared to be headed on a dreamy date, dressed in a blousy white top, slightly unbuttoned, with a black boutonniere and a black and white scarf tied loosely around his neck. And Jungkook’s tall frame was adorned in a sheer black top under a leopard print button up, completely unbuttoned, and obscenely tight leather pants.
Not exactly the best outfits for an interview about a holiday-themed album. You made a mental note to look into purchasing some ugly Christmas sweaters for the fan-meeting tomorrow - surely you could find those at Santa’s Workshop, right?
As everyone ate in comfortable silence, you cleared your throat.
“Morning, guys. We need to leave here no later than seven for the meet and greet with the mayor and the Rise and Shine! taping. Remember, this is live tv, and the local paper will be there to take photos as well. So please, no swearing and no rude gestures.” You stared directly at Jungkook, who nodded.
“Got it, Mom,” Jimin chirped as he reached for another stack of pancakes.
“Sorry, noona.”
Despite your months of experience working with the media, and despite the fact that you yourself were not going to be on tv, you were nervous as fuck as the band prepared for their interview. Tiny pinpricks of sweat began to bead on your forehead as you and Jin watched from the wings of the stage.
The venue for the big comeback concert was the town’s small community theatre space, a boxy room with a simple stage and approximately 200 seats in the audience. Beyond the Sound was clearly hoping for an intimate experience for the lucky ticket holders, all of whom were longtime Euphoria fan club members who had been randomly selected in a raffle.
Rise and Shine! had sent a single camera operator and one producer to oversee the remote interview, and they were hustling about, preparing for the live feed. The photographer from the local paper was sitting in the audience, waiting for the mayor to arrive so she could snap a few photos of him with the band. Meanwhile, the band members themselves were helping each other touch up their makeup. So you were left with only Jin to calm your nerves.
Naturally, he wasn't helping.
Instead of focusing on the scene in front of him, or helping you take your mind off of your anxiousness, Jin scrolled through his phone, giving off the appearance of a man who would rather be anywhere else in the world.
Well, honestly, so would you, but you had a fucking job to do, so you were going to make sure it went off without a hitch.
"Shouldn't the mayor be here by now?" you asked, glancing at your watch. In less than fifteen minutes, the irritatingly chipper hosts of the morning program would be streaming through the monitor in front of you as they asked Euphoria some blandly inane questions about their album. The mayor was supposed to participate in the conversation and really help sell the whole folksy angle your company was hoping to achieve.
“I’m sure he’s on his way. Just breathe, Princess.” Scroll, scroll, scroll.
“Stop. Calling. Me. That,” you spat through gritted teeth, as the door at the back of the theater suddenly slammed open.
“I’m here!” a voice yelled. As everyone watched, a tall, beefy man in a beanie and black peacoat dashed down the aisle towards the stage. He tripped over his own feet and you gasped, expecting him to faceplant, but he recovered and kept running.
Hand outstretched, he made a beeline for you and Jin. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” he huffed. “Hi, I’m Namjoon Kim, nice to meet you.”
“Mr. Mayor, it’s lovely to meet you,” You shook his hand. “Thank you for allowing us to hold our concert in your beautiful town!”
Jin snickered softly. If that ass kisser thought you were laying it on too thickly, then you definitely were overdoing it. Fighting the urge to stomp on his big clown feet, you smiled at the mayor as if you hadn’t heard anything.
“Oh, it’s our honor to host you! And please, call me Namjoon,” he smiled, shaking Jin’s hand in turn. “I was sad to hear that I wouldn’t get to meet Irene after all our correspondence. She seemed very… thorough.”
“Yeah, Irene never left anything to chance,” Jin laughed. “I can only imagine the novel-length emails she sent you.”
Another glance at your watch. Ten minutes. The band members had finished their touch-ups and were now… uh…
Where the hell had they gone?!
“Would you please excuse me?” you smiled at Namjoon, shot Jin a look, and left the two men standing there, discussing Irene’s Type A tendencies.
Wandering the backstage area of the theater, you hissed names like a balloon slowly leaking air. “Jimin? Taehyung? Jungkook! Where the hell are you??”
“Relax, noona.”
Stifling a scream, you whirled and found Jimin snickering behind you. “Fuck! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on a person?”
“I wasn’t sneaking, you just couldn’t hear me over the sound of your panicking,” he replied drolly. “Come on, they’re back here.”
You followed him into a small dressing room, where Taehyung and Jungkook were digging through racks of costumes.
“What are you -”
“Found one!” Jungkook interrupted you, proudly brandishing a Santa hat. “And look, here’s a pair of reindeer antlers, Jimin.” He tossed a headband at his bandmate.
“Perfect! What about Tae?”
Taehyung turned away from a mirror on the wall, where he had been inspecting his handsome visage. He tucked his long hair back, revealing a pair of elf ears.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys look fantastic - very holiday appropriate! Now, why don’t you go get your mics and get ready for the countdown?”
Santa Jungkook and Elf Taehyung strolled out of the room. But Reindeer Jimin merely shook his head. “You really don’t have to worry about us, noona. We know what to do. How to hit our marks and spout the company lines.”
“I wasn’t worried!” you lied.
“Right. Of course not.” He trailed you back to the stage. “Why would you worry? It’s not like you haven’t heard a million nasty stories about us, right? About how difficult we are, how unprofessional, always needing tons of close handling. Nothing like that?”
You blinked, but didn’t reply, unsure what to say. The last thing you wanted to do was rile him up when they were mere seconds away from a live broadcast.
Jimin laughed derisively. “That’s what I thought.” He waved the producer over, patiently letting her mic him up. “I know what everyone at Beyond the Sound thinks of us, even though most of you never even met us.”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” you fudged, trying to untangle yourself from this situation. “Beyond the Sound has always championed Euphoria. We’re doing everything we can to make sure you guys are taken care of, and to see that your comeback is a success.” You gave him a shaky smile. “We have your best interests at heart.”
“Ha!” he huffed, shaking his head. “Our best interests. If you say so, noona.”
He left you gawking as he joined his bandmates, introducing himself to the mayor. Four stools had been placed on the stage, in front of a simple snowy backdrop and a large fake Christmas tree. As they settled in, the producer waved her arm, indicating the countdown to being live had begun.
“You okay, Princess?” Jin whispered as you clenched and unclenched your fists, silently counting along with the producer.
“Of course,” you sniffed. “Everything’s fine.”
Jimin’s words had rattled you a little, but you weren’t about to tell Jin that.
“They’ve got this. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”
The lights were off in the wings, and in the darkness, you could barely make out Jin’s profile. He looked completely relaxed, as usual.
“Will you stop saying that stupid phrase? It’s completely inane!”
Jin just honk laughed.
The interview went off without a hitch. Jimin was right - Euphoria were seasoned pros, and knew how to handle the press. The only slight hiccup came courtesy of the mayor. As he gestured to the venue space behind him, he nearly smacked Taehyung in the face. Taehyung spun to avoid his arm, which made Jimin guffaw, which led to him falling off his stool.
Could’ve been worse.
After lunch, the road crew showed up to set up for rehearsal. You sat in the audience and flipped through notes on your phone as the band practiced their setlist for the concert. Jin had folded himself into a seat in the row behind you, legs propped up, humming along to the music floating through the theater.
Euphoria’s new album was a mix of holiday standards like “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” and several original songs, including the one they were currently playing, nonsensically named “Claus I Said So!”
“Oh god,” Jin murmured, leaning forward to rest his arms on the back of the seat next to you. “This might be the worst Christmas song in the history of the world. How do they expect this to sell albums?”
You scowled at the sudden nearness of him. “They don’t. They expect us to sell them, remember?” He did have a point, though. The song was truly atrocious, the lyrics some vapid nonsense about how everyone had to do Santa’s bidding or there would be no Christmas this year. But all Santa kept telling everyone to do was to “rock!”
Mentally, you added earplugs to your list of items to bring to the concert.
“I’m honestly surprised they agreed to this album in the first place,” Jin admitted.
You stopped scrolling long enough to turn and look at him. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I understand why they went along with the punk album. They do have legitimate musical talent and it was an opportunity to flex their skills. The screamo album took a lot of persuading from Irene, and I heard even Sejin had to cajole them a bit. But a holiday album?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Never thought they’d agree to it. Especially now that I’m hearing the songs they were given - could you imagine having to sing this crap with a straight face?”
“Literally what the fuck are you talking about?”
Euphoria were chameleons, constantly changing their look and their sound. But that was all them. Always their idea, always their music.
Wasn’t it?
Jin stared at you. “Oh, Princess, tell me you know.”
“I know what?” Your eyes narrowed.
“That Beyond the Sound is responsible for all of Euphoria’s crazy reinventions? The company plans out every album, from concept to songs?” His eyebrows shot up at your silence. “Oh no, you really thought they came up with all that crap?” He gestured at the stage. “Do they look like they want to be performing this tripe?”
The song ended, shifting into another original tune, “Don’t Be Elfish,” as you carefully examined the members on stage. Jimin’s eyes were as lifeless as a doll’s as he crooned into the microphone. Taehyung strummed his bass mindlessly, staring into space. Jungkook looked like an automaton, drumming mechanically.
They all seemed absolutely miserable.
Holy shit, how could you have missed this? All this time, thinking the band was full of chaotic wildlings who jumped from genre to genre on a whim, with no rhyme or reason. Assuming they were monsters that couldn’t be tamed.
And why had you thought these things? Because that’s what your company told you.
“Why what?”
You twisted in your seat to face him. “Why would they agree to this? To any of this?”
“Their contract. Beyond the Sound basically locked them into a terrible deal. Their original manager was… not a good guy.” He pursed his lips. “He made a hell of a lot of money off of them when they signed with Beyond the Sound, then split. Our company uses them as guinea pigs, trying to tap into new markets. The punk rock album got them a bunch of deals, but that last album didn’t net any new clients. Or fans.”
Well, shit. Maybe you needed to stop assuming so much based on what you heard around the office. That place seemed to be overflowing with lies.
Then again, how did you know that Jin wasn’t lying to you right now? Why should you trust him? He’d probably heard all this stuff through the rumor mill, too.
“That is… unfortunate. But at the end of the day, they signed on the dotted line. They agreed to this.” Even as the words left your lips, you doubted them slightly. But if you had to pick between listening to your employer or listening to your maddening coworker, you were choosing Beyond the Sound. “If they want those albums to sell, they’ll suck it up and sing those terrible songs.”
Were you imagining things or did Jin look disappointed with your response?
“Right. It’s all about the bottom line. Good thing you’re here to keep everything under control, Princess.” He leaned back again, out of sight.
But not out of mind, as his words kept tumbling through your head.
“This one’s for you, noona,” Jimin’s voice boomed over the sound system, interrupting your thoughts. You looked up to see him pointing at you, and the band launched into a slinky cover of “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home).” Jimin’s smooth voice poured out of the speakers, but it wasn’t loud enough to cover Jin’s laughter behind you.
“Shut it, Jin!”
The band seemed beat by the time rehearsal ended. The ride back to the Blitzen Inn was quiet. You didn’t mind, because you were still trying to make sense of your conversations with Jimin and Jin.
But everyone perked up once they saw what a feast Yoongi had whipped up for dinner. Large slabs of meat, various types of potatoes and grilled vegetables, and freshly baked breads covered the dining room table. As everyone tucked in, Hobi played the gracious host, a role he was well suited to, asking questions and keeping the conversation rolling.
“So, this is your first time visiting the east coast in winter?” he inquired, pouring you some more wine.
“Mmmhmm. Any time I’ve been here before was during the summer.” You swirled your wine, letting it breathe. “I’m a little disappointed, honestly, that there’s no snow. I’ve never seen any.”
“Never?” Jin interjected, looking surprised. “None at all?”
You shook your head sadly.
“Not even at a ski resort or anything?”
“What exactly aren’t you grasping about never, Jin?”
“Well, I have some good news for you, then,” Hobi cut in with a smile. “They’re predicting we’ll get a little dusting tonight. Not much, but enough to cover the ground, at least.”
“It’s gonna snow?” Jungkook looked up from wolfing down his food. “When?”
“Later tonight. Again, it’s probably not going to amount to much, but at least you’ll get to finally see some,” Hobi said to you.
What a pleasant surprise. None of the weather channels you’d monitored prior to the trip had mentioned anything about snow. You didn’t care if it wasn’t going to amount to much - all you wanted to was to see those precious little snowflakes drifting down, just once. That would be more than enough.
“You know, snowy nights are perfect for cuddling by the fire,” Jimin informed you, sliding his chair closer. “Just picture it - you, me, a bottle of wine. Curled up on the couch, keeping each other warm. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“What is this weird obsession with keeping me ‘warm’? Am I giving off hypothermic vibes?” you scoffed, taking a swig of wine.
Jin cackled as you held out your glass for more wine.
Dessert was yet another delicious extravaganza, this time a grand selection of little cakes. Yoongi truly did spoil his guests. Afterward, Jin retired to his room to “network,” which you assumed meant he was probably going to nap. The band took up residence in the library, crowding around the piano as they discussed some tweaks to the concert setlist. Hobi and Yoongi were in the kitchen cleaning, so you had the sitting room to yourself. You turned on a fluffy holiday movie, a guilty pleasure of yours, letting it play in the background as you answered some work emails.
It wasn’t until halfway through the movie - just as the confused protagonist was about to realize she might have feelings for the antagonizing male lead - that you caught something flickering in the fading evening light outside the window.
Quickly setting your work aside, you dashed out into the hallway, grabbing your puffer coat from the rack by the door. Others must’ve noticed the snow as well, judging by the excited shouts you heard behind you as you pulled the front door open.
The world outside was awash in white. Snowflakes tumbled through the air, gently coming to rest on the lawn. You walked through the yard, tempted to spin in circles like the lead of one of those silly holiday movies you loved to hate.
Aw, fuck it.
Arms outstretched, you twirled, giggling to yourself as you tilted your face towards the sky. Opening your mouth, you caught a few flakes, letting them melt away on your tongue.
Eventually, your wandering led you to the gazebo, where you sat on a bench under the Christmas lights, feeling a strange sense of peace. The world was hushed, a serene silence falling over everything. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there when you heard Jin’s voice.
“Oh, I missed it.”
You shifted and saw Jin walking towards the gazebo. He shuffled forward to join you, wrapped in his red plaid coat again, with a navy scarf tied around his neck, a rosy glow on his cheeks as the night air nipped at his face.
“You haven’t missed anything. It’s been snowing for a while.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to see it start. There’s something really magical about those first flakes.”
“Is that so?” Standing, you propped yourself against one of the pillars holding the roof up, and turned your face to the sky to watch the snow, sighing happily. Not even his irksome presence could bother you right now.
He nodded, stepping a little closer. “I grew up in the north, you know. There’s this moment when the cold air gets so crisp, you can almost feel time slowing, like it’s starting to freeze, too. The world stills. And then the clouds themselves begin to fall, bit by bit, fluttering to the ground as tiny snowflakes.”
“Fuck, maybe you should be in PR instead of management. You’re really selling it,” you commented drily.
Jin smiled, huffing a soft laugh. “I’m just trying to explain how beautiful that moment is. I really wanted to experience it again. And I…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“You what?” you prompted him.
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to see the first snow with you. To share it with you, since I know you’ve never experienced it before.”
You hadn’t realized how close he was standing until you caught his gaze, his eyes shimmering like the delicate flakes that danced around you. His tongue licked nervously at his plump lips as his face angled down towards yours.
He looked so handsome in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, you could almost forget how annoying he was.
“Well, that’s just too bad,” you murmured, stepping down from the gazebo onto the path back to the house.
“Did you enjoy it, at least?” he called out as you retreated.
“It was lovely,” you replied over your shoulder, not looking back.
Nearly everyone had drifted outside to admire the snowfall. Hobi and Yoongi cuddled on the porch swing as Jungkook perched on the edge of the steps, attempting to pack what little snow was on the ground into a snowball. You briefly considered bribing him to aim for Jin.
Meanwhile, Jimin leaned in the doorway. “Come watch the snow with me, noona,” he wheedled, batting his eyelashes. “Look.” He pointed to where a little green sprig dangled over the porch swing. “Want to take a turn after our hosts get up?”
You rolled your eyes. “Give it up, Park.”
“Aw, come on, you don’t want to sit under the mistletoe with me?” He pouted. Despite your best efforts, your gaze flitted to his luscious mouth briefly. You knew millions of his fans would die to be in your shoes at that moment.
If only you could switch with any one of them.
“Believe it or not, I don’t.” you remarked, sweeping past him into the house. Over your shoulder, you called out, “Besides, mistletoe is not romantic. It’s a parasite!”
“Don’t worry. He knows you’re not interested,” a deep voice rang out from the library as you passed by.
You wandered into the room to find Taehyung sitting at the baby grand, fingers gently coaxing a soft melody from the keys.
“What did you say?”
“Jimin.” His dark eyes assessed you as you took a seat in a plump armchair near the wall of books. “He knows. He’s just flirting for show.”
“Jimin? The world renowned player?” You frowned. “Flirting is his first language. What do you mean, it’s for ‘show’?”
“He’s acting. Playing the part written for him, to prevent the truth from getting out.”
You were lost. “And that is…?”
“He’s celibate.”
“Shut up!” You popped upright, stunned. “But… all those scandals! What about the flings, the one night stands?
“They never existed.” The key changed, shifting to minor. “All lies, dreamt up by Beyond the Sound, to deflect from the reality of the situation.”
“Why?” Once again, you found yourself struggling to understand. “Why would they fabricate such wild stories? Why hide the fact he’s celibate?”
Taehyung laughed mirthlessly. “To mold him into their desired image. Who wants a lead singer who’s abstinate? Euphoria needs a sexy star for fans to ooh and ahh over.”
Mulling his words, you fell silent, allowing Taehyung’s song to wash over you as you reflected. He was such a gifted pianist, and you mourned all the music he’d never been given the chance to play, being forced to perform Beyond the Sound’s dreck instead.
“Taehyung… when you were working on the punk album… why did you lock yourself in the studio for six days?”
If the sudden change in topic threw him, you wouldn’t know it. He continued to play as he answered. “I never did that. That’s when I flew back to Korea, to be with my family when my father was ill.” He dipped his head, striking the keys hard as the music swelled. “But we couldn’t have that getting out, could we? Wouldn’t exactly look like a tempermental artiste if it turned out that not only did I not write the album, but I spent the time I was supposed to be doing so at my ailing father’s bedside.”
Fuck, was anything you’d ever heard at work even remotely true?
“And what about Jungkook? I remember Irene comparing him to a wild animal, running untamed.”
He gave you a look. “You’ve seen him. He’s not some feral beast. He's… he’s a puppy. Too much energy, sure, but also full of boundless enthusiasm. And sweetness. He’d do anything for any of us, even our hosts if they asked.”
You ruminated for a moment. “Okay, so, basically, everything I know about Euphoria is a lie. But… why are you telling me all of this?” you asked.
He shrugged, fingers gently coaxing out quiet notes as the song began to diminuendo. “If I can be blunt?”
Waving your hand, you granted him permission.
“You don’t strike me as the next Irene. Or Sejin. You still have a soul.” He grinned sadly. “Don’t let Beyond the Sound take that from you.”
You blinked. Well, shit, you had told him he could be blunt.
The grandfather clock in the hallway struck ten.
“Don’t stay up too late, Taehyung,” you advised as you stood to leave. “Even if we don’t have an early start tomorrow, you should still get some rest.”
“Noted, noona.”
As you crossed the room, he called out your name, and you paused in the doorway.
“Maybe we’re not the only ones who deserve a second look.” His song ended, the last note sustaining as he turned to face you.
Okay, he was getting a little too personal now. But damn if he didn’t have perfect timing. Like a true artist.
With a curt nod, you walked away, heading for the quiet respite of your bed, and the blissful promise of sleep.
Snow. Everywhere you looked, as you stared out the window the next morning. The world was covered in white, shimmering in the cloud-filtered glow of the morning sun.
Bundling up in your robe, still dressed in your silky pajama set, you trudged downstairs and found Jin, Yoongi, and Hobi already gathered in the sitting room, watching the news. All were still in their pajamas as well. Jin was of course wearing a set of Louis Vuitton sleepwear. At this point, you assumed he’d just bought out the entire boutique.
“That’s right, Bob, as you can see here, we’re up to 13 inches and snow is still coming down! Looks like we might get that white Christmas after all!” the orange-hued weatherman yapped as he pointed to the screen behind him.
“Someone needs to lay off the self-tanner,” Jin snarked as Yoongi greeted you with a steaming mug of coffee. You were really going to miss the incredible service here when you returned home.
“Did he say 13 inches?” you inquired, blowing into your beverage.
Hobi nodded. “So far!”
Walking over to the windows, you peered outside. The road leading to the house was nowhere in sight. Yoongi joined you, munching on a biscuit held in one hand, the other clutching his coffee.
“At what time do they plow the road?”
Hobi and Yoongi laughed before they caught your expression.
“Oh, you’re serious?” Hobi blinked.
You frowned. “Sorry, lifelong beachtown resident here. I don’t know how it works when it snows. The city plows the roads, don’t they?” Leaving Yoongi at the window, you plopped down on the couch, grabbing a biscuit from a tray on the coffee table and slathering on some butter.
“Sure, they plow public roads. But we’re on a private road out here. So we’d have to plow it ourselves. And we don’t own anything that could do the job.” Yoongi explained. Almost 24 hours in their house and this was the first time you’d heard Yoongi actually speak.
“Plus, anyone who could do it for us is going to be busy today. And even if we could get the road plowed, the snow hasn’t actually stopped. So if you leave, you might end up snowed in somewhere else.” Hobi continued. “Or worse, you could get into a horrible accident on the slick roads.”
Jin sipped his coffee. “That all sounds terrible. Essentially, you’re saying we’re stuck here.” “For now, at least,” Hobi stated.
You and Jin exchanged a look. But before you could speak, a loud whoop sounded from upstairs. The two of you rushed to the doorway to see what was happening. “WOOOOOO! LOOK AT ALL THAT SNOW!”
Jungkook stampeded down the stairs, clad in only a towel. His dark purple hair dripped puddles on the hardwood as he dashed barefoot to the front door, wrenching it open. “I’m gonna make snow angels!” he shouted as he sprinted outside.
“What just happened?” you asked, stunned.
“Am I seeing things or is he only wearing a towel?” Jin asked.
From his post at the window, Yoongi smirked. “Well, he was wearing a towel.”
The speed with which you snapped out of your trance and ran outside was nothing short of superhuman. “Jungkook, naked snow angels aren’t a thing!!”
By midday, the snowfall total was up to 18 inches. And there seemed to be no end in sight.
“I don’t understand,” you groused, still in your robe, still on the couch. “Aren’t these people supposed to be professionals? Don’t they make an entire career out of predicting this stuff? How did they not see this coming??”
Irene had done an incredible amount of legwork for the trip, including compiling initial weather reports and consulting almanacs to determine how close to the holiday the concert could occur without the threat of inclement weather. Once you’d taken over, you’d done the same, making sure to keep updated on any changes that could potentially derail the concert.
Not a single report had said anything about a freaking blizzard.
You mentally added meteorologists to your ever-growing list of enemies. It was practically a novel at this point.
Everyone was now gathered in the sitting room, all staring at the tv in surprise and dismay. Well, you were dismayed. Jungkook was thrilled, Taehyung and Jimin were a strange mix of concerned and excited, and Hobi and Yoongi were indifferent.
And Jin? He was relaxed as always.
“It is what it is,” Jin proclaimed sagely. You stopped glaring at the weatherman long enough to glare at him instead. “What? I’m just saying, we can’t do anything or go anywhere right now. Might as well make the best of it.”
“That’s the idea!” Hobi chirped, nudging his husband. “Yoongs, maybe we can whip up a special snow day dinner for everyone? Something to warm them and lift their spirits at the same time.”
Yoongi tipped his head, contemplating. “Let me see what I have to work with. Maybe some sort of stew? Of course, if we’re having stew, I’ll need to bake some sort of crusty bread to go with it…” He trailed off as he strolled into the kitchen.
“Perfect.” Hobi clapped his hands, rubbing them excitedly. “Until then, we have plenty to keep you entertained! In addition to books, there are puzzles and games in the library. And we have lots of extra winter gear on hand, in case anyone wants to go outside.”
“If anyone needs me, I’ll be napping.” Taehyung announced as he disappeared upstairs.
“You said there are puzzles in the library?” Jimin inquired, drawing a curious look from you. “Some people meditate. I do jigsaws, okay? They’re very calming.” He wandered off in search of his zen.
“Jungkook, have you ever made a snowman?”
Jungkook just looked at Hobi with wide eyes, who giggled and gestured for the drummer to follow him.
“Hey, do you hear that?” Jin cupped his hand behind his ear.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly! Isn’t it wonderful?” Jin grinned. “If this snow gets us out of babysitting for a few hours, then it can’t be that bad, can it?” He stretched and leaned back on the couch, flipping idly through the channels. “I think I’m just going to watch a movie. What about you?”
“Are you serious?” you sputtered incredulously. “What am I going to do? I’m going to do my job! Which is what you should be doing!”
Confusion twisted Jin’s pretty features. “What exactly am I supposed to do? Did you not just have the same conversation as the rest of us? We’re stuck here!”
“Just because our hosts don’t want to hire a plow doesn’t mean we should just give up! I refuse to believe we’re just housebound for the day. There has to be a way to get someone out here to dig us out!”
“The band will be fine if they can’t rehearse today. They’re pros.”
All you could think about was your boss’s threat about Irene not being the only one leaving Beyond the Sound. “Sure, that’s fine, but what about the fan signing event tonight? We need that support!”
Jin frowned, eyebrows drawing in tight. “Come on, you heard what Hobi and Yoongi said. The plows are going to be busy with public roads. And we shouldn’t go out there until the snow stops. Do you really want to spend the night at that Christmas shop if we end up snowed in?”
You threw up your hands. “No, of course not! But I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m not built that way.”
“Built what way?”
“Built like you!”
“Yah, what does that mean?” He blinked, sitting up.
“It means that I can’t just take it easy and smile and wink and expect everything to magically fall into place for me!” All the frustration that had been building as the snow fell was starting to bubble to the surface as your voice rose slightly. “If you can’t use your charms to get it done, then it’s not getting done! Meanwhile I work my ass off, because I actually give a damn about my job!”
“Again with the snide comments about me not taking things seriously! Is that really what you think of me?” Jin asked, jumping to his feet. “That I’m some lazy asshole who doesn’t give a shit?” “Well, if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck and shoots finger guns like a fucking lameass duck... ” Springing to your feet, you took a step forward as he stepped back. “Yes, that’s exactly what I think!”
At that moment, Yoongi walked into the room carrying a tray of cookies. Spotting the two of you circling the coffee table in an intense standoff, he smoothly executed a swift one-eighty degree turn, and walked back out of the room.
“Are you kidding me? I’m the only one here who cares!”
Laughing dismissively, you doubled over. “You? YOU? Come the fuck on!”
“Yes, me! Because I am the only one concerned about our clients!”
Red. Your vision literally turned red for a second as your blood boiled. “Excuse me?? How dare you insinuate that I don’t care about them!”
“It’s true!” he nearly shouted, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke. “You care about the job, sure - just the numbers! Ratings, views, sales. That’s it! That’s all you give a damn about! Meanwhile, I’m trying to ensure that our clients - the actual living breathing musicians we’re meant to serve, the people - are safe and sound and happy! Look at right now, for example - you really want to send them out there in this?” He waved his hand towards the window. “Why? Just so they can sell a few albums?”
“It’s not just a few albums, it’s also our jobs on the line,” you hissed.
Jin just shook his head. “Not to mention, they’ve told us how miserable they are with Beyond the Sound - don’t look so shocked, I know what they’ve said to you, because they’ve said it to me, too! But all you do is recite the company line to get them to shut up and do whatever is best for the numbers - not what is best for them!”
A loud voice hollered from upstairs. You and Jin drifted into the hallway to peer up the stairs at Taehyung, who leaned over the railing, looking pissed off in his plaid pajamas.
“Some people are trying to sleep! Either take this outside, or buy me some better ear plugs!”
Neither of you responded, locked in a fierce staring contest.
“Well?” You gestured in Taehyung’s direction. “Your client is not happy, Jin! Shouldn’t you do something about it?”
Jin glared at you. “Just tell me - are you planning on doing your oh-so-important work out of this room today?”
You blinked, confused at the abrupt shift. “Maybe? I haven’t decided yet, why?”
“Because,” he yelled over his shoulder as he stomped up the stairs, “I want to be wherever you are not!” He punctuated his sentence by slamming his bedroom door shut.
Jimin’s head poked out of the library doorway. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Uh-oh, Mom and Dad are fighting. Looks like we’re getting two Christmases this year!”
“Shut it, Park!” you snapped, whirling and stalking back into the sitting room. Sinking onto the couch, you stared at the ceiling, wondering exactly when things had gone from potential nightmare to outright catastrophic disaster.
Despite you doing your best all afternoon to find one, there were no plows anywhere even remotely nearby who could dig you out. Which meant the fan-signing event at Santa’s Workshop had to be cancelled.
By the time dinner ended, you were starting to worry that the concert tomorrow might also suffer the same fate.
And that no matter how hard you tried, you weren’t going to pull off this assignment after all.
A long dram of your hot cocoa did little to settle your nerves, despite the large kick of peppermint schnapps Yoongi had generously added for you. This was your second mug, and you were still too keyed up to feel the effects of the liquor.
“At some point, it will stop snowing, right?” You asked the question half in jest, gazing out the window of the sitting room at the flakes that just kept falling and falling, but the tone of your voice betrayed your anxiety.
For once, you’d gotten your wish. The world outside was indeed a sea of white. Unfortunately, it seemed to be just as boundless as the ocean itself.
“Don’t worry,” Hobi said comfortingly, “it can’t snow forever.” He was lying on one of the velvet couches, still keeping an eye on the weather channel.
Jimin and Yoongi sat on the floor around the coffee table, assembling a jigsaw of a covered bridge together. Jungkook was draped across the other couch, lost in his VR headset again. You could hear Taehyung in the library, tickling the ivories and providing you with rather soothing background music.
Or it would have been soothing were you not wound so tightly that you were about to pop.
Jin had returned to his room as soon as the dishes were cleared from the dinner table. You were fine with that. Let the baby pout. After what he’d said to you, accusing you of only caring about numbers, you hoped you didn’t see his stupid face again for as long as possible.
Yoongi glanced up at his husband, idly flipping a puzzle piece over in his long fingers. “Remember that snowstorm two years ago? Snowed for almost 48 hours straight. I think that’s the longest I’ve ever seen.” You must’ve looked frightened at the prospect of the snow continuing for another day, because he hastily added, “But I’m sure that won’t be the case today. That was a freak storm, a fluke.”
“You mean, a fluke like an unexpected blizzard?” you squeaked.
Yoongi’s mouth set in a firm line. “This is why I usually don’t talk to our guests.”
Hobi rubbed his husband’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, dear.”
“If the concert’s cancelled, is it really the end of the world?” Jimin mused. “The album will drop no matter what. Our fans know it’s coming.”
You bit your lip, remembering Sejin’s words. “There’s a lot more riding on this than you know, Park,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from the others in the room to stare forlornly out the window.
As you watched the swirling eddies of snow drift past the window, something gnawed at you.
You’d always known Beyond the Sound was a greedy corporation, bent on dominating the charts and keeping the cash flowing in. You weren’t naive. Or at least, you hadn’t thought you were. But how had you missed the way your company was treating its clients? You truly thought they were being taken care of while Beyond the Sound rode their success all the way to the bank.
All the conversations you’d had in the past 24 hours left you unsettled, and had you wondering if you even wanted your promotion anymore. Yet you couldn’t stop thinking of it as already yours. Maybe if the concert got cancelled, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, as Jimin had said… even if you lost your job?
Damn, the schnapps must’ve been kicking in, if you were contemplating unemployment without batting an eye.
With a sigh, you wandered away from the window. It was funny how quickly you’d tired of that unending whiteness outside.
Hobi patted the space on the couch next to him and you took a seat.
“So now what?” you asked. “We just… sit here and keep waiting?”
“Yep.” Hobi ran his fingers through Yoongi’s hair as he leaned against his legs. You averted your gaze, trying to ignore the way your heart panged at the soft sight. It had been so long since someone had stroked your hair like that. “We hunker down and wait for it to pass. Eventually, we’ll have to dig ourselves out, and figure out the plow situation. But until the snow stops, there’s nothing for us to do, but eat, drink, and be merry!” He grinned, his sunny personality not dimmed in the slightest by the stressful situation unfolding around him.
What it must be like to be an optimist. Couldn’t be you.
“We’ll be fine, noona,” Jimin concurred, smiling reassuringly. “As long as the - “
The room was suddenly plunged into darkness. Total, complete blackness, almost smothering you. Your heart leapt into your throat.
“ - power doesn’t go out.”
Yoongi’s voice piped up. “You just had to say something about the power, didn’t you?”
An hour later, the electricity was still out. Candles placed around the sitting room provided weak illumination, shadows flickering as everyone settled in around the fireplace.
Well, everyone minus Jin, who remained in his room. Maybe he was sleeping through the blackout. Maybe he was still being a jerk. Those things weren’t mutually exclusive.
You’d finally shed your bathrobe, replacing it with the down comforter from your bed. Everyone else was similarly bundled in their bedding as you waited to find out what was going on outside.
A hand-cranked radio brought you bad news - the power was out for more than half the state, with no estimates of when it would return. Your hosts had some minor good news, in that they had a gas-powered generator, but it could only run for 12 hours max before it would need refilling. And that would be difficult to do if it kept snowing.
“We should reserve the generator to power the fridge and to keep the water from the well running,” Yoongi explained. “For now, I think it’s best we all hang out downstairs, where the fireplaces can help us stay warm.”
“What about Jin-hyung?” a pile of blankets on the floor asked. A purple-haired head poked out. “Should someone go get him?”
Everyone looked at you.
“Why me?” you bristled. “You all heard that asshole earlier. Fuck, I think the surrounding states heard him announce he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me!”
“Maybe this is a good chance to apologize,” Taehyung intoned, leveling a look in your direction. You shot back a glare, and he suddenly seemed to find the dancing flames in the fireplace very interesting.
Jimin wouldn’t meet your eye, and Jungkook dove back into his blankets. With a frustrated sigh, you arranged your comforter around yourself like a cape, and angrily stalked upstairs.
Armed with a flashlight, courtesy of Hobi, you exhaled loudly before knocking on Jin’s door.
“Jin? Are you awake?”
Silence. He was probably sleeping after all. Well, you tried, so maybe everyone could get off your back.
A muffled voice called out as you turned to leave. “What do you want?”
Just the sound of his voice made your teeth clench. “Everyone’s downstairs waiting for the power to come back. It’s warmer down there, with the fireplaces. You should come down too.”
No response.
“Jin, did you hear me? You shouldn’t stay upstairs right now.” You frowned. “Don’t freeze your ass off because you’re a stubborn - “
The door flew open, and your rant died on your lips as you were met by a very rumpled Jin, who’d clearly just woken up. His normally polished facade was missing. Instead, he looked very soft, eyes blinking sleepily, mouth yawning gently. He still wore his pajama pants, but he’d removed his top.
Your eyes swept over his broad chest and the curve of his biceps as he leaned his arm on the doorframe. He was more well-built than you’d ever imagined, a slight ripple of abs greeting you as you jerked your gaze away before it drifted too far south.
Not that you’d ever imagined him shirtless. Of course not.
Well, maybe when you’d first met, before he’d opened his mouth.
Suddenly incredibly conscious of where you were looking, you stared at his hair. Such majestic fluff, the shiny strands bouncing as he dragged a hand over his face, peering at you questioningly. You longed to run your fingers through it. It probably felt like silk.
Okay, no more schnapps for you.
“Stubborn what?”
You shook your head. “Nevermind. Look, just come down, okay? There’s no estimate on when the power will return, so we’re keeping warm by the fire.”
The gaze that swept over you was cold, appraising. “Nah. I’m fine here.”
Jin tried to close the door, but you stuck your foot in, blocking it. He kept pushing, and you shoved against the door, stumbling through the gap into his room.
“Hey! I’m trying to keep you from dying of hypothermia, you prick!” you snapped, yanking your blanket through the door as it swung shut. You set the flashlight on the floor, aiming it upward so that the room was dimly lit by the beam.
He just huffed out a noisy breath, flopping onto his bed. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not that cold.”
“Not yet, but it will be, the longer we go without the heating on.”
“Oh, now you’re an expert on how exposure works? Great. Let me just settle in for this lecture,” he grumbled, burying his face into his pillow.
You were cursed. That was the only explanation for why you were stuck with this giant manbaby, in an unexpected blizzard, during the most important week of your career.
And you were over it.
Tossing your blanket cape to the floor, you stalked across the room and jumped onto his bed, jostling him violently.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelped, rolling onto his back. You drew yourself up onto your knees, straddling his calves as you glared down at him.
“Clearly, you and I are never going to see eye-to-eye on how we work. That’s fine. We don’t have to be friends. I just need you to stop being a baby and come downstairs because I’m pretty sure I’m not getting that promotion if I return to work without you because you froze to death!”
Jin sat up quickly, knocking you off balance as his face suddenly came within inches of yours. “Yah, that promotion is mine, first of all! And secondly, I’m not going to freeze!”
“Why can’t you just do what I’m asking you to?” you snarled, poking him in the chest.
“Why can’t you just realize that maybe your way isn’t the only way!” he retorted, grabbing your hand.
“You drive me insane!”
His eyes flashed as he tugged on your hand, pulling you closer. “The feeling’s mutual, Princess!”
Before you could shout once again about that irritating nickname, his lips smashed against yours.
Despite the quickly chilling room around you, you were burning up, flames licking at your skin as Jin ran his hands down your back, holding you flush against him as your mouths fought for dominance. Biting, tongues colliding, grunting and sighing into one another.
Fuck, he was an incredible kisser. His plump lips felt like heaven as they tangoed viciously with yours. Why the fuck were you always fighting, when you could be doing this instead?
“I bet you’ve been dreaming about this, Princess,” he murmured, mouth gliding down your neck.
Oh, right, because he was a complete asshat.
“Hardly.” Your teeth found his earlobe and you nibbled sharply, making him gasp. “I’m only doing this so you’ll shut the fuck up for a moment and listen to me.”
He laughed, lips vibrating against your throat, and then it was your turn to gasp as he threw you onto your back, covering your body with his own.
The solid warmth of him did nothing to cool you down as he kissed you urgently. Hands roamed everywhere. Your fingers combed through his messy hair, and you belatedly noted that the strands were in fact as smooth as satin.
Jin’s lips trailed down your chest, over your shirt, and stopped at your waist. “I don’t suppose you’d want to take this off,” he said, jerking on the hem of your top, “considering we might turn into icicles at any second.”
Scowling, you shoved him away. “Shut the fuck up and undress me.” Less talking, more action. You didn’t want to think anymore.
You just wanted to feel.
Jin complied, ridding you of your pajamas in seconds. He let out an appreciative hum when he noticed that you wore nothing underneath, hands immediately flying to your breasts, caressing them. Urging you to lie back down, his mouth closed in until he captured a nipple between his teeth.
For several heavenly minutes, no words were spoken. The only sounds in the room were the wet noises of his mouth as he suckled at your tits, lavishing both with attention, and the sighs of satisfaction that spilled from your lips.
Eventually, you broke the spell. “Jin.”
“Mmm?” he hummed around your nipple. Dark eyes gazed at you, and you clenched at the heat you recognized in them.
It was the same blaze that burned in you.
“As nice as this is, can we move things along?” Your pussy ached terribly, dying for his touch.
He snorted, pulling off your tit with a pop. “You really can’t stop and enjoy yourself for very long, can you? Always down to business.”
You would’ve argued, but as he spoke, his hand sank between your legs, finding and stroking your clit. So instead, all that came out was, “Hnnnnnghhh,” as you bucked against him.
“Maybe I need to help you, huh? Show you how to relax.” He licked a line between your breasts, down your navel, towards where his slender fingers were now sliding through your folds. “Ah, so wet. Good. You’re gonna need to be soaking for me.”
“What does that - ohhhhh.”
One long finger slipped inside, crooking, dragging against your inner wall. Your eyes slipped shut in bliss.
Only to reopen in surprise as his mouth closed around your clit.
If you’d thought his lips felt amazing against your mouth, the sensation of him kissing that tiny bud was out of this world. His finger continued to slide inside you as he licked at your slit.
“More,” you demanded breathily, hands digging into the soft sheets of his bed. He was moving too slowly for your liking - wasn’t he burning up, too?
“Patience, Princess. I have to get you ready,” he insisted, slipping a second finger inside. You tossed your head back at the intrusion.
“What the… oh… the fuck do you mean, get me ready? I’m not a fucking virgin, dumbass.”
In response, Jin removed his hand, making you whimper at the loss. He jumped off of the bed and untied the drawstring on his pajama bottoms, letting them drop to the floor.
Holy fucking shit.
“Holy fucking shit,” you gasped, staring at the biggest cock you’d ever seen. Outside of porn, at least. No wonder he was always so confident, so sure of himself. It was easy to know you could always stand on your own two feet when you a third fucking leg to back you up.
He merely grinned, lazily stroking himself as he watched your reaction. “Like I said. I have to get you ready.”
That was going inside you? Fuck. “Well, then get back here and fucking get to work!”
“As you wish, Princess.” He climbed back onto the bed, once again settling between your legs.
“Jin, enough with the damn nicknaooohhhhh.” Your snipe turned into a moan as his fingers scissored you open. A third finger joined the fray and you were lost in rapture for a moment. Even though the stretch felt unusual, the way Jin pumped his hand made your toes curl.
His other hand splayed on your stomach, holding you in place no matter how much you squirmed. He lowered his head to nibble on your thighs, making you squeak, before his tongue plunged into your core.
“I could do this all night,” he professed, grinning mischievously. His chin was slick with your wetness. The sight was incredibly obscene and incredibly arousing. “Just lie here, tasting you, making you come undone on my fingers. Would you like that?”
“Nnnnnoooo,” you groaned, knowing that the way your body reacted to his touches told a different story.
He laughed, eyes crinkling with delight, fingers never ceasing. “I don’t believe you. As a matter of fact, I think I should do just that. Make you cum again and again. Show you how to enjoy yourself.” He licked his lips. “I know I’m enjoying you, that’s for damn sure.”
Part of you wanted to lie there and make him fulfill his threatened promises. But you could see his massive dick as it slapped against his stomach, and all you wanted was to go for a ride.
“Jin.” Somehow you managed to bite back a moan long enough to speak. “Either get me off right now or fuck me.”
“Again with the orders!” He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Fine. Have it your way, Princess.”
This time, when he pulled his hand away, you didn’t whimper. You full-on wailed.
His shoulders shook with laughter as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for a condom. “I’m just doing what you told me! See, I’m listening! Isn’t that what you wanted?”
What you wanted was to kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.
He knelt on the bed, making eye contact as he rolled the condom down his impressive length. You shuddered with anticipation, and a little apprehension. Sure, you weren’t a virgin, but none of the men you’d ever been with had been anywhere near as big as Jin.
As if he read your mind, Jin rubbed your thigh soothingly. “We’ll go slow, okay?”
You nodded.
Hovering over you, propped up on one elbow while lining himself up with the other hand, Jin dipped his head to kiss your neck. You tipped your head back, exposing more of your throat, and he took advantage of the slight distraction to slide in.
“Ohhhh.” He didn’t plunge all the way, just enough for you to feel a stretch. He wasn’t just long, he was also girthy, and the combination was intense.
“Okay?” he asked, lips tracing your ear.
He kept slowly sliding in, checking in with you, until he finally bottomed out. The feeling was unbelievable.
“Still doing all right?”
“I think I can feel you in the back of my throat.”
“And yet somehow, you keep talking.”
“Hey! I - “
He silenced you with a kiss. But it was different than before. Unhurried. As if he had all the time in the world and he intended to use every second.
And then he began to move.
You felt every inch of every stroke with your entire body, nerves alight with overwhelming pleasure. He slowly fucked you, hooking one arm under your thigh and bending it back until your knee pressed into your chest, opening you up even more to him.
He hit you so deep, you saw stars. Literal bursts of light with every thrust. Your nails scraped down his back as you clung to him, nearly out of your mind as you drowned in him. Nuzzling his face in your neck, he murmured how amazing you felt, how fucking tight you were, that you were doing so well, praising you as you writhed beneath him.
“Jin, fuck,” you cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders.
At first, you thought he was huffing for breath, but you quickly realized he was laughing.
“What do you think I’m doing, Princess?”
“Are you seriously cracking stupid jokes right now? Making yourself laugh?!” you grunted as his hips stopped moving while he cackled. “I thought you said it’s only fun for you if others cum first? I’m not fucking cumming yet!”
“Ah, you’re right, you’re not. I guess I should do something about that.”
“No, forget it, I’ll do it myself.” Frustrated, you pushed him away. He retreated to a sitting position, back against the headboard, and you crawled into his lap.
“You wanna ride this big cock?” he cooed.
“Shut the fuck up, Jin.” Obviously, yes, that is what you wanted to do.
“Whatever you want, Princess.” He smirked wickedly, tousled hair falling into his glimmering eyes.
That. Fucking. Name.
Positioning yourself above his large cock, you stared him dead in the eye as you impaled yourself, punctuating your words with every bounce of your hips.
“I fucking told you to stop!” bounce “Calling!” bounce “Me!” bounce “PRINCESS!”
You rode him like a woman possessed, hellbent on chasing your end. He hissed as your hips rolled, and tightened his arms around you.
“What should I call you, then? Hmm?” His lips brushed against your collarbone as he traced his way back to your breasts, tongue swirling circles in your skin as you arched into his hot mouth. “My queen? Sweetheart? Baby?”
A whine escaped your lips, high and needy, at that last word. You clapped a hand over your mouth, as if you could shove it back in, but it was too late. He’d heard.
“Oh, you like that? You want me to call you baby?” He suddenly lurched forward, and you found yourself on your back again. You mewled, and his tongue ran along your neck as he pumped away.
“Okay, baby, you got it.” Over and over, he buried himself deep inside you. His hands knotted in your hair, cradling your head. He kissed you breathless, tongue diving into your mouth and tangling with your own.
He felt so good, but you didn’t want to make love, you wanted him to fuck you and make you cum so hard you forgot your own name, so once again you shoved him away, and then swiftly flipped over, rising onto your hands and knees.
“Enough sweet talk,” you spat, glancing over your shoulder. “Are you going to make me cum or what?” You wiggled your ass.
Jin growled - audibly growled - and wrapped his large hands around your hips as he sank inside you again. You groaned at the change in angle, feeling his dick kiss your cervix, and began to pant as he pounded into you.
“Is this what my baby wants? Just a good, rough fuck?” Teeth sank into your shoulder, and you muffled a scream by pressing your face into a pillow. “Huh?”
You nodded, only to jump in shock as a hand swiftly smacked your ass. “Ah!”
“Use your words, baby,” he commanded. “I know you’re not shy. Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck, yes, give it to me hard,” you moaned.
He grunted, palm slapping your ass again, and you rolled your face to the side, swearing as the tempo of his rutting increased.
“Ah! Ah! Fuck!”
“You look so fucking good, all bent over for me.” Another smack landed on your cheek. “Always knew you would take this cock so well.”
“Stop talking!” you sneered, rubbing your clit furiously. “Just get me off!”
His fingers pinched your nipples and you yelped. “Still giving orders? Do I need to fuck you harder? Hold on, baby.”
There was no way he could possibly pound you any more furiously. And yet. He had you practically bouncing off the bed as he began to grunt harshly. Beyond words, all you could do was choke out strangled sobs as his hips slammed into you mercilessly.
“Is that what you need?”
“Ah! Yes!”
His strong hands flattened against your stomach, pulling you so your back was flush against his chest. He stilled for a moment, and you fought to catch your breath. You were a fucking mess, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you reclined against him, wanting more more more.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” his husky voice rumbled in your ear. “I wanna feel this sweet cunt to cum all over me. Are you ready?”
All you could do was moan.
“All right. Help me out.” He slid two fingers into your mouth. “Suck.”
You swirled your tongue over his long digits, keening as he slowly pulled his dick out and plunged back in again, thrusting into you so deeply, your eyes rolled back into your head. He hissed as your teeth grazed the rough skin of his fingers.
His other hand slid towards your throat.
“Want me to?” he whispered into your ear.
You nodded, then remembered how to speak. “Please!”
“If it’s too much, tap three times. Show me,” he rasped.
You tapped his arm once, twice, then a third time. Then you whined as his soaking fingers found your clit, rubbing the sensitive bead frantically.
Jin began to squeeze the sides of your throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you dizzy. His grip held you in place as he continued to snap his hips into you, all the while never stopping the way he strummed your clit.
Your head began to spin, from the lack of oxygen combined with the intense pleasure radiating from your core, where Jin’s thick cock and stroking fingers were too much, it was all too much, and you couldn’t take it, you couldn’t -
“Let go,” he ordered you, and his hand fell away from your neck.
You inhaled, blood rushing, eyes closing, legs collapsing as you shattered into a million pieces in Jin’s arms.
White-hot pulses of sheer ecstasy rolled through you as you climaxed with a loud cry. Jin held you up with one arm as he felt your walls tighten around him, and then he was cumming, face buried in your hair as he cursed a filthy string of obscenities.
Jin released his grip on your stomach, and you dropped onto the bed, exhausted, smothering your face into the pillow. He laid on his back next to you, his arm over his eyes as his chest heaved.
“You okay, baby?” A hand reached out, gently stroking your back as you tried to steady your breathing.
Oh fuck, he wasn’t going to want to cuddle now, was he? Your mind began to clear as your high abated, and the reality of what you’d just done hit you hard.
“I hope that was good for you, Jin, because it’s never happening again.” Throwing one leg over the edge of the bed, you tried to slip out, but a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, and you found yourself locked in his embrace instead.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where are you running off to, baby?”
You wriggled, trying to break free. How was he so strong? “I’m not running, we’re just done. And stop calling me baby. You don’t have to keep saying that, the moment’s passed.”
Jin spoke, voice a little more subdued than usual. “Right, the moment’s over. Back to business, then?”
He let go, and you rolled away. In no time, you were dressed, wrapping your comforter around yourself again. You grabbed the flashlight, and as the beam shifted, you caught sight of Jin’s face. Something you couldn’t identify shifted across it.
You blinked, and it was gone. The smooth facade was back in place as he looked at you.
“I’ll be down later. The cool air feels good right now.”
It did, but you still wanted to leave.
“Okay. We’ll save you a spot by the fire.”
A vague hum answered you as the door swung shut.
You awake feeling stiff the next morning, curled in a little ball. Stretching, you extended your legs over the edge of your bed, kicking your feet.
Oh shit, right, you didn’t sleep in your bed last night.
From your makeshift bed on the couch in the sitting room, you glanced down at where Jimin was sitting, rubbing his head.
“Sorry, Park,” you apologized. Wincing slightly, you sat up. You were very sore, but there was no way to stretch that out.
Jungkook was sprawled on the other couch, with Taehyung splayed on the floor below. Both were snoring lightly. You assumed Yoongi and Hobi were in their bedroom, since it had a fireplace of its own.
And there was Jin, curled up on the floor behind the couch.
You watched him sleep, contemplating. What if you hadn’t run away last night? Would it really have been so bad to wake up in those arms?
“Good morning,” Hobi called out as he entered the room. You put a finger to your mouth, pointing to the men still sleeping. He ducked his head slightly, and beckoned for you to follow him, pantomiming drinking to let you know there was coffee.
Wrapping yourself in your comforter like a human burrito, you wandered into the dining room, Jimin trailing close behind. There were already cinnamon rolls on the table, steaming hot, and mugs waiting for coffee.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but the electricity came back during the night,” Yoongi said, carrying a pot of coffee out of the kitchen.
That explained why you felt so warm in your blanket. The heat was on.
“And in other good news…” Hobi pointed at the window.
“It stopped snowing!” you cheered. You grabbed your mug to peek out the window. The snow was piled so high. There was probably no point in even bothering to ask about a plow coming, but you felt compelled to anyway. “We’re still not going anywhere today, are we?”
Hobi shook his head. “I’m sorry. I hate to say it, but I think you’re going to be stuck here a while longer.”
“So the concert is probably off,” Jimin said, pouring some sugar into his coffee.
You nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“The concert’s off?” Jungkook asked as he stumbled into the room, yawning.
“Yeah. Concert’s off, power’s on, snow’s stopped. Have some coffee,” Jimin replied.
Before long, Taehyung wandered in, hair impressively fluffy from his slumber, and then Jin, once again clad in his full pajama set, taking the seat next to you. Word about the concert rippled around the table as Yoongi set out another ridiculous breakfast.
You tore into a second cinnamon roll, again lamenting that eventually you’d have to leave this place and Yoongi’s amazing meals behind, and were about to ask Hobi how he and Yoongi met when Jin cleared his throat.
“Hey.” He bent towards you, voice hushed. “Can we talk about last night?”
You stared at him, horrified. He wanted to talk about what you’d done, here? At the breakfast table? In front of everyone and your cinnamon roll?
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you whispered, sipping your coffee.
“Really?” Jin shot you a look. “You have no comment about what we did? Not even the way I choked you until you came on my big dick?”
Coffee shot into your nose as you inhaled sharply at his words. Hobi reached over and patted you on the back, trying to help you clear your lungs. You glared at Jin as you recovered.
“Watch what you say!” you hissed. “This isn’t the place or time!” You also wanted to ask if he was incapable of referring to his own dick without commenting on the size, but really didn’t want to be overheard.
“So where and when, then?”
“Nowhere and never!” Tossing your napkin on the table, you abruptly stood. “I’m going to go shower,” you announced to the table, and quickly strode away before Jin could respond, dragging your blanket behind you like a fuzzy tail.
Minutes after you’d retreated to the safety of your room, you lay on your bed, wrapped once again in your comforter. You knew you should shower, but you didn’t want to move. What you wanted, actually, was to become one with the bed. Just transform into a non-sentient pile of fluff and live out the rest of your days without having to think at all.
A knock came at the door. Jin called out your name. “Come on. Let me in.”
“Go away!” you shouted, fuming. “Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to talk!”
“Fine. Then we won’t talk. Just open up.”
What the fuck did that mean? You opened the door to find him reclining against the doorframe on the other side.
Why was he always leaning over you? Staring down at you with those big brown eyes, those long lashes, that pretty pink mouth.
Yanking him by the collar of his shirt, you pulled him inside your room, slamming the door shut. He reacted lightning fast, spinning you around and pinning you against the door.
You glowered up at him, angry that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Angry at yourself for not wanting him to. Daring him silently to make the first move, because you’d be damned if you would.
He did.
Lips. On your mouth, your cheek, your ear. Like he was marking territory, claiming every inch of skin available. Sliding the neck of your pajama top over so he could kiss your collarbone, your shoulder.
“You don’t want to talk?” he huffed in the crook of your neck. “Fine. I can be quiet.” He lifted his head, lust blazing in his eyes. “But can you?”
His hand suddenly cupped between your legs, grinding his palm against your core. You keened at the friction. “Fuuuuck, Jin!”
“Shhhh,” he murmured, dropping to his knees. “No talking.”
He tugged your pajama bottoms to the ground. His hands roamed over your thighs, gently spreading your legs apart, goosebumps spreading over your skin at his touch.
“Jin,” you moaned, letting him move you as he wished. “I haven’t even showered since… since…”
“Since what?” he inquired, looking up at you. “Since we fucked? Do you want to talk about it?”
No, you didn’t want to. You shook your head.
“All right, then we’re not talking, period. So try to keep it quiet from now on.”
Your first instinct was to snap back, inform him that he of all people was in no position to tell you what to do.
Except, he was actually in the perfect position, kneeling below, gazing up at you with a dark look full of wicked promise.
Fuck, you’d do anything he wanted if he kept looking at you like that.
“Can you do that for me, baby?” One finger slid through your slick folds, grazing your clit. You whimpered, then immediately covered your mouth with your hand. “That’s better. Keep that hand there. Now, no more words,” Jin husked, and then suddenly his mouth was on your cunt.
The sounds his tongue made as he lapped at your wet heat were sinful, especially coupled with the tiny moans that escaped his hot mouth as he worked you over. You bit into your palm, trying your damnedest not to say a word.
But all you wanted to do was sing his praises as he worshipped you with his tongue.
You threaded your fingers through his glossy hair, tugging slightly, and he responded by groaning into your slit. The vibrations sent chills through you, and you repeated the action, pleased at how he moaned again.
One of his large hands wrapped around your ankle and pulled your leg up, letting it rest on his shoulder. You teetered slightly, a small gasp spilling out, but you managed to keep from yelping his name in surprise. His hands slid around to grab your ass, kneading the flesh as he made sure you were secured against him.
You released your palm, rubbing it with your other hand, trying to soothe the teeth marks you’d left in your own skin. His tongue danced over your clit, making your hips buck into his face.
You were doing just fine until he slipped two fingers inside and began to stroke.
“Jinnnnn,” you whined, hips jerking again.
He drew away, mouth and fingers abandoning you, and you looked down at him in horror.
“That sounded like a word,” he tutted, shaking his head. “I thought I told you not to speak?” He sat back on his heels, crossing his arms, as your leg dropped from his shoulder.
“I - I’m sorry,” you stammered, pussy absolutely throbbing. He wasn’t just going to leave you like this, was he? A half naked mess, literally quivering with need?
Did he want you to beg? You bristled at the thought... but fuck, you wanted to cum on his face more than anything. Who needs dignity when you have a man with a tongue like that?
He sighed. “Maybe I need to keep that mouth busy, huh?”
You nodded vigorously. Whatever it took to get those lips back on you.
He chuckled. “Okay, baby, let me help.” Standing, he slipped his hands down your thighs and lifted you into the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist, again fighting the urge to shout. He pressed you into the door, and covered your mouth with his own.
You felt delirious, humming into his kiss, bucking your hips against his hard cock as it rubbed against your core. How did he feel this good? This was Seokjin Motherfucking Kim! The most annoying man on the face of the planet!
He spun, carrying you to the bed, and set you gently on the edge. Then he stripped off his clothes, slowly, top first, then his pants, giving you an eyeful of his taut muscles and that giant cock again. Fuck, your mouth was practically watering as he stepped up to the bed, and…
“Uh, you don’t expect me to fit that whole thing in my mouth, do you?” you yelped, wide-eyed.
“Yah, come on!” Jin stopped his seductive approach and put his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to set a mood here!” He sulkily pulled his pajama pants back on, then flopped onto the bed, sighing dramatically.
Just like that, the moment was over.
“Well, sorry I ruined it,” you muttered, curling your legs under you. “It’s probably for the best, anyway. We don’t need to make any more mistakes.” A tiny feather lay on the bed, having escaped from the comforter, and you fiddled with it as you spoke.
“Is that what last night was to you? A mistake?”
You met his gaze. Fuck, did he have to look at you so earnestly? Where was that cocky expression of his that you loathed so much when you needed it?
“It was… a release. I think we just needed a good hate fuck to get it out of our systems so we can move on and finish the job.” You spun the feather in your hand, snorting. “If there’s even a job left for us at this point.”
“A hate fuck. I see.” Jin muttered softly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. I may or may not answer, but you can definitely ask.”
He frowned. “When did you start hating me?”
You tilted your head. “Jin, I - “
“Is it because I call you Princess?”
Snorting, you made a face. “No, but that certainly doesn’t help.”
“Then it must be Nevamind. Right?”
Just hearing the name made you grit your teeth. You could deny it, but why bother? The truth wouldn’t be any more revealing than all the things you’d done last night. “Yeah, I was pissed when you got that job. But I’m over it now,” you lied.
“Do you want to know what really happened?”
“I know what happened. You charmed your way into the job.”
“Nevamind choose you.”
Your head snapped up. “What? Then why… how…?”
“Sejin came to see me after their meeting. He said Nevamind had picked you. But he also made some rather specific comments about how exactly he wanted your partnership to happen.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Comments like…”
“Like the exact positions he wanted you to, uh, work in. The jobs he wanted you to give. Do you understand what - “
“Yes, Jin, he wanted to fuck me, I get it!”
“Sejin said he was overruling the guy’s decision and assigning him to me. That’s why I got the job. Because there was no danger of him hitting on me.”
You leaned back against the headboard, contemplating his words. Obviously you’d always known that the job should have been yours, so finding out that it actually had been yours, for a whole five minutes, wasn’t as much of a shock as it could’ve been. But your anger flared at having been treated like you couldn’t handle the situation yourself.
Jin fluffed up your pile of pillows, lying on his side as he watched you digest everything.
“Was Sejin worried that Nevamind would attack me? Or did he think that I would sleep with a client?”
Jin laughed, a tired sound devoid of any joy. Or honking. “Neither. He was afraid of a lawsuit.”
“Yeah. He thought that if either scenario went down, one or both of you would end up suing the company, and he wanted to avoid that completely. He wasn’t worried about you - he just didn’t want you to get litigious.” He bitterly spat out the last sentence, as if it left a nasty taste in his mouth. “He said that me being Nevamind’s manager was less of a “statistical risk” to Beyond the Sound than you.”
What. The. Fuck.
You’d given your everything to Beyond the Sound in the last year, sacrificing your time, energy, and even personal relationships, all to make yourself the ideal employee and show your devotion to the company. Meanwhile, Sejin considered you a “statistical risk”? Holy shit, you were literally just a number to them.
Just like Euphoria.
Jin went on. “When Sejin told me all this, I realized nothing we do really matters to the company as long as we don’t hurt their bottom line. There was no reason to do anything other than bide my time, make some money, and build up my contacts, so that one day I can walk out of there and start my own management firm.”
“You want to open your own firm?” That was surprising. He’d never struck you as the type to have such big dreams.
“Yeah. Someday.” He pursed his lips, looking angry. “I should’ve done more. Should’ve told Sejin to shove it, that he had no right to treat his employees this way. To treat you like you were a liability instead of a person. That’s why I try so hard to make sure our clients are treated well, at least. That’s the one area where I do give a fuck.”
You believed him.
And you weren’t sure you could blame him for taking the job with Nevamind. Wouldn’t you have done the same in his shoes?
Of course you would’ve. Because you would’ve done anything to win. Even if the trophy turned out to be made of fool’s gold in the end.
Your head spun, mind reeling from everything he said. Absorbing all this info left you feeling drained. Completely defeated. You slid down the pillows, rolling onto your side to face Jin, but closed your eyes as you sighed despondently.
Gentle fingers glided lightly over your hair. You peeked through your lashes at Jin, who was watching you with concern.
“Sorry,” he muttered, lowering his hand, but you quickly grabbed it.
“Please don’t stop,” you quietly pleaded.
Instead, he pulled you into his arms.
Vulnerability wasn’t really your thing. A lifetime of fighting for what you wanted taught you to keep your guard up at all times. But lying there, your head on his broad chest, feeling so safe and warm, you felt your defenses start to slip. Jin began to stroke your hair again, and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed at the tenderness, begrudgingly acknowledging that it was… nice.
Really nice. You could get used to it.
“Still hate me?”
His pecs muffled the sound of your laughter. “Not as much as before.”
He snorted. “I appreciate your honesty.”
Lifting your head, you frowned. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about any of this?”
“Would you have listened?”
He had you there. “I mean, maybe not at first, but eventually. Probably. I think.”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, the reason they picked me over you is because they knew Nevamind wouldn’t try to sleep with me’?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” You paused. “But also, if he didn’t want to fuck you, that was definitely his loss.”
Jin stared at you. “Are you cracking jokes? In the middle of my serious confession?”
“I guess you’re rubbing off on me,” you quipped, grinning as he suddenly lunged at you, capturing your mouth with his. Too soon, he drew back, and you actually whimpered, making him smirk and kiss you again. But eventually, you needed air, and parted. “Do you still hate me?”
“Never did.” He traced a finger along your cheek. “I’ve always had a thing for you.”
“Oh yeah?” You propped your chin on his chest.
“Uh-huh. What’s not to like? You’re sexy, smart, confident, and a killer manager even if you get a little too focused on your work sometimes…” he trailed off, squeaky laughter filling the room as you shot him a nasty look. “I thought you knew, honestly.”
“How was I supposed to know?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe because I’ve been flirting with you for a whole year?”
“Wait, that was flirting?!”
It was his turn to glare as you giggled. He nipped at your bottom lip in retaliation, and you yelped. More making out ensued, to your utter delight, before he rolled you onto your side with a sigh.
“I bet they’ll have our desks packed up and cleared out by the time we return to the office, since we’ll no longer be employed by the time we get there.”
Ah, fuck, right. Since the concert wasn’t happening, Sejin was likely to follow through on his threat of termination. More than likely. He’d basically told the both of you that you’d be out on your asses if the album tanked, and with all the canceled events this week, you didn’t have high hopes that it’d do well.
“Fuck, this sucks,” you swore. “We’ll be unemployed and the poor band will have another flop on their hands. Beyond the Sound will probably punish them for that with another terrible genre mash-up for the next album, like polka rap or something.” You shuddered at the thought. “It’s too bad we couldn’t have pulled it off. Even though you would’ve lost that promotion to me.”
Jin’s eyes bugged out. “How many times do I have to tell you, that promotion w- “
You cut him off with a kiss, laughing against his mouth as he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you close again. A few minutes later, you pushed him away as he blinked in surprise.
“Why are you pushing - “
“Shhhh!” You flapped your hand, shushing him, lost in thought. “I have an idea.”
“Is everything all set up?” you asked Jungkook as he dashed past you.
He halted, nodding. “Yeah, we’re almost ready.” He tugged at the collar of his sweater, an eyesore of a Christmas tree with shimmering LED lights and the words “Let’s Get Lit” embroidered across his chest.
“Fantastic. Is there anything you guys need from me?”
“Not at the moment, noona, thanks.” With a nod, he continued on his path, as Hobi exited the library.
“How’s it going in there?” you asked.
“Great! It’s coming along. Yoongi is going to bring us some snacks while we enjoy the show.” As Hobi spoke, Yoongi hustled by, carrying a tray loaded with cookies. You snagged a sugar cookie as he passed.
“Hobi, I’m really going to miss it here. The service is top notch. And these ugly sweaters are incredible! You have quite the collection,” you raved.
If you were a weaker woman, you would’ve wilted under the look Hobi shot you. “You think these atrocities are mine? Oh no no no. They all belong to Yoongi.”
Your eyes widened in glee. “Oh, that’s even better.”
Jin came bouncing down the stairs, a happy smile on his face. You couldn’t help but grin back, for a second, before you composed yourself. He stopped short at the bottom of the staircase, staring at you as your host wandered off.
“What the hell?” Jin pouted. “I’m offended, you look great in this ugly Christmas sweater. This is a scam.”
“Oh, because only you’re allowed to look great in one?” He was, indeed, pulling off the ridiculous “Resting Grinch Face” sweater he wore, despite the blindingly bright green and red colors - but he was Seokjin Motherfucking Kim, after all. It was a little snug on him, given that he was taller and broader than Yoongi, but if anything that just made him even hotter.
Neither of you had to wear the ugly sweaters you’d borrowed from your hosts, but you’d decided to do so out of solidarity for the band members. And also maybe you were kinda getting into the spirit of things. Just a little.
“No one is supposed to look good in these! That’s the whole point, they’re ugly!” He paused. “But you think I look good?”
“Fuck off, you know you’re handsome and look amazing even in the dumbest of sweaters.”
He grinned. “Okay, you’ve got me there. It’s impressive how sexy you make that hideous thing look.” He reached out and honked the fuzzy moose nose that jutted out of your sweater, which bore the words ‘Merry Christmoose!’
How were you supposed to act like a professional when Jin was making you giggle like a fool? All you wanted to do was pull him into a darkened corner and kiss him senseless.
But you had work to do. So you settled for gifting him a tiny peck on the cheek.
He held his hand to where your lips had landed. “Careful!” he gasped, sounding scandalized. “Someone might have seen that.”
You rolled your eyes. “ Okay, I’m already regretting this.”
“This what?” He followed you down the hall. “This, like you and me? Are we a thing?”
“The more you talk, the less we are,” you sang, unable to hide the laughter in your voice.
Before you crossed into the library, Jin grabbed your arm, spinning you around and into his embrace, stealing your breath away with his lips. You let yourself melt for a second, two, ten, before breaking away.
To your surprise, Yoongi was standing in the hallway, a wide grin on his face. “I just wanted to know if you’d like some peppermint schnapps in your hot cocoa again?”
So much for keeping things secret. Not that it really mattered, considering Yoongi wasn’t much of a talker. But you didn’t want to answer questions or have to put labels on whatever you and Jin were. Right now, all you wanted to do was see your idea through. Anything else could wait.
And yet it made you happy to think that maybe there could be something. Ugh, you were getting so soft, so fast. Better keep an eye on that.
“That’d be great, thanks,” Jin replied smoothly, hands still on your hips.
“Sure,” you croaked out. You didn’t normally drink while working, but fuck it. Tis the season, after all.
In the library, Taehyung sat at the piano while Jimin perched on a stool in front of the baby grand, tuning an acoustic guitar. Thankfully, Yoongi had a guitar on hand that Jimin could borrow.
Meanwhile, Jungkook played around with an electronic drum kit that he’d brought with him, fine tuning the settings. Jin and Hobi were futzing with the tripod, searching for the perfect spot to set up the camera.
Because damn it, the show must go on.
Sure, the in-person concert had to be cancelled. But that didn’t mean Euphoria couldn’t perform. All they needed were a few instruments and a camera to livestream it all.
Unfortunately, the tech crew who were supposed to stream the concert at the venue were also snowed in at their hotel, but a simple phone would do for the stripped-down concert you were imagining.
(As long as the Blitzen Inn’s internet didn’t conk out in the middle of streaming.)
This wasn’t about your job anymore. Fuck Beyond the Sound. This was about Euphoria, and letting the band show that they didn’t need weird gimmicks or wild concepts to sell albums - all they needed was the chance to shine. Just the three of them and a (mostly) acoustic set of holiday classics. The band was thrilled with your idea, and it made you happy to see them so happy.
Ugh. You were turning into a marshmallow.
The ugly Christmas sweaters had been Hobi’s suggestion, after you’d offhandedly mentioned that you hadn’t had the chance to buy them a proper holiday concert wardrobe. Jimin’s gingerbread man sweater read “I’m Baked” above the cookie’s visage, while Taehyung’s “Prosecc-ho-ho-ho” with a tipsy Santa Claus looked surprisingly chic - something you ascribed to the wearer and not the sweater itself.
The other furniture in the room had been pushed back so only the band and the fireplace would be in the shot. You stood behind the couch, watching Hobi adjust the phone being used for the recording. “Hobi, you don’t mind manning the camera for this?”
“You mean, do I mind turning the video on and clicking “record”? No, I don’t mind at all,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just happy to help! This is such a wonderful idea - a cozy little concert experience.”
“Yeah, we came up with a great plan, huh?” Jin piped up, sneaking up on your side. You felt the ghost of a hand brush down your back and fought to keep your face straight.
“What is this ‘we’? This was my idea!” you retorted, but failed to keep from smiling as you said it. Yoongi brought you both a mug of cocoa, then sank onto the couch for a front row seat.
“It’s about time,” Jin glanced at his watch. “You guys ready?”
“Let’s get it!” Jungkook chirped.
The fireplace crackled in the background as Hobi cued Jimin. The lead singer smiled at the camera, greeting the audience. “Good evening and happy holidays! Euphoria had to cancel our concert, thanks to a little snow. But we didn’t want to let all our fans down. We hope you don’t mind that it’s just the three of us tonight, and some of our favorite songs. Grab your cocoa, settle around the fireplace, and celebrate with us, as we bring you a little holiday cheer.”
He strummed his guitar, launching into a gorgeous rendition of “Winter Wonderland.” As the music swelled, Hobi and Yoongi relaxed on the couch, hand in hand. Humming along quietly, careful not to end up on the recording, you felt Jin’s hand gently wrap around your waist. Leaning against his side, feeling content, you decided to let go of your worries and enjoy the moment - the beautiful music, the cheerful atmosphere, and the gorgeous man by your side.
Jin dipped his head, mouth brushing your ear as he murmured, “You pulled it off, baby. Congrats.”
“I did, didn’t I?” you whispered, peering up at him, smirking. “I guess you deserve some credit, too. Why don’t you claim… 25%?”
“So generous,” he smiled, bending to sweep his lips against yours. “I’ll be sure to thank you when I get that promotion.”
His kiss silenced your protests as the band played on.
“Your eleven am appointment is here, ma’am,” your assistant’s voice filtered through the speaker as she buzzed you.
“Thank you, Seulgi. Go ahead and get them settled in the conference room and I’ll be right in.”
You stood and began gathering everything you would need for your meeting, just as Jin entered your office without knocking.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes, but how many times do I have to tell you to knock?” You frowned.
He grinned, crossing the room to tower over you. “Why, what might I see? You in a compromising situation with the boss?” His hand stroked your hip as he stepped closer. “Oh wait, that’s me.” “We’re partners. Stop trying to get me to call you my boss.”
After the success of the livestream, Euphoria’s holiday album shot straight to the top of the charts. You’d ended up having to stay an extra day in Christmas, until everything was plowed and it was safe to travel again. When you finally returned to your office, Sejin welcomed you and Jin with open arms, thrilled at how you’d helped shepherd Euphoria back to the number one spot. He’d then offered the promotion to you, stating he’d heard that the livestream had been your brilliant idea.
And you had promptly turned him down, putting in your two week notice.
Jin also quit, and together you established your own management firm, Worldwide Sound. Normally, making such a big leap would’ve taken a lot more time and effort, but you had an ace up your sleeves, signing a major band on your first day of business - Euphoria. Thanks to a savvy lawyer contact of Jin’s, the band got out of their horrific contract with Beyond the Sound and happily joined your firm as your first clients.
As much as the old you would’ve hated to admit it, you and Jin made a pretty great team. With your business expertise and his interpersonal skills, you were making a name for yourselves in the industry, all while making sure your clients knew that they were your number one priority.
Jin delicately removed all your belongings from your grasp, setting them back on your desk as he slid his arms around you. “You didn’t have any problems calling me ‘boss’ last night,” he purred as he tilted his mouth to slot against yours.
You allowed him to kiss you for exactly five seconds before you pushed him away lightly. “Okay, first of all, role playing does not count, and secondly, what happened to us not discussing our private life at work?” But there was no anger behind your words, just an unceasing fondness for your boyfriend as he gazed at you with a soft smile.
“You’re right, you’re right. Oh, but I did finalize our travel plans for Christmas, so we’re all set for this weekend.”
“Oh, good! I can’t wait to see Hobi and Yoongi again.” What better place to celebrate nearly a year of bliss with your boyfriend than at the little bed and breakfast that brought you together?
“Me too. Now come on, back to business, baby.”
You gave him a look.
“Sorry. Partner.” He held the door open for you, but you paused in the doorway to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.
“That’s better. But if you play your cards right and help me sign this deal,” you murmured, “tonight you can call me boss.”
“Yes, ma'am!”
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© 2021 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.
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