#i was also supposed to meet with my boss today. probably for her to make sure i dont fuck up this project but apparently their safety hood

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#i was supposed to spend the last 2 days prepping and relaxing for the start of this big project tomorrow #but ive spent thr last 2 days frantically coding as fast as i could and focusing v hard to get a lot of bullshit done #and ive fixed things since yesterday. the changes i had to make were too too bad bc the thing that went wrong was so fucking weird #but it should be okay by tomorrow. knock on wood. but this does mean ive done fuck all to prep for tomorrow #so we r winging it bby. ugh. just gotta fucking pray that everything goes ok. pls let nothing b broken and let everything seal properly 🙏 #i was also supposed to meet with my boss today. probably for her to make sure i dont fuck up this project but apparently their safety hood #was having an emergency... whatever that means. so im sure shes having a week as well. and im free to fuck everything up for everyone #ugh. im so. theres a certain point in burning out where youre not really in pain anymore. you dont really feel anything all your joy and #hope dissolves away and u just exist to be useful. and i feel like its easier to maintain that than trying to b happy #i do not advise that bc its a fucking miserable. wasteful way to live but i dont really have time to try for anything better #god. i really hope my measurements friday dont take a full 8hrs. i dont know if i can handle that. literally i would have stay intensely #focused with my brain being Interrupted every 5min so i can manually record data points. its gonna b agony #so that fun. but maybe it wont. maybe itll be great and fun and ill have a wonderful time. seems unlikely but ya never kno #lets not think abt the fact that having to rush all this is preventing me from being able to do all thr other bullshit i need to get done #to prepare for the future. future? what future? hard to imagine from the bottom of this pit im digging myself #sigh. in a few months i can leave this place and never come back. soon but not soon enough #lol i was literally crying listening to cold play earlier bc idk thats the type of music my parents would put on at parties in summertime #so it evokes a v specific mood. which is i guess me hiding away from ppl at parties haha #back when i didnt have to worry abt things so much and i could just listen to the frogs chirping and watch the fireflies #oh god. now my boss is asking if i reached out for help tomorrow. no. lady i would rather drink bleach than have to direct an undergrad #tomorrow. its 10pm im fucking tired. just let me be sad. did i reach our for help? no my brain is on fire #tomorrow is gonna b a long day ugh #unrelated

[carmesi-butterfly]

hi!! i have this noncon to dubcon request wherein meandom!ricky is the son of your boss, and reader is his mom’s new housekeeper. reader accidentally drops one of the most expensive wines in the shen household (due to ricky intentionally pushing her), and ricky threatens her that he would tell his mom, to get her fired, but he then tells her that he won’t have her fired under one condition and that is to let him fuck her, and use her like a cumdump.

and also, can i be 🍄 anon? thank you!

meandom ricky + fem! reader. word count 1,5k. warnings noncon to dubcon, degrading, abuse. not proofread. a/n: hi! i'm gonna try doing the asks more seriously like this time more often (if i feel like it ofc), if i feel like doing something simple i will be using the format i'm already using. also i feel like i added too much intro and a poor amount of smut, sorry anon ㅠㅠ i may do a part two of this because i loved your idea! welcome to the family 🍄 <3

your stay at the shen household was an average experience as a housekeeper, maybe too many hours but that's compensated with a high salary, nice food, and good clothing for doing your labor without having to use your own clothes. the only problem was the son of the house, shen ricky, a young man with unbelievable beauty, sharp features that made him look like a god in the eyes of a normal person like you, and a devilish aura accompanied by a small grin that was always set at the minimal hint of your presence near him.

instantly as you got into that house ricky started to molest you, it started with a few glances at your chest and ass when you were in a “suggestive position” while doing your labor, he didn't even try to hide how he was looking at you like a jewel exposed in an exhibition, free to everybody to look at, things escalated quickly to the point of him touching you shamelessly, squeezing your boobs and bottom tightly while whispering all the things he would do to you, making you feel humiliated and helpless, the last straw was today’s incident at the kitchen, as a housekeeper you were doing your usual job, leaving everything clean and tidy for the shen family, mrs. shen asked you personally to clean and organize their wine collection for a special dinner they will have soon.

after accommodating the majority of the beverage there was only one left, a beautiful bottle with an eccentric decoration, adorned by gold leaves and letters of the same color on the tag, it was probably the most expensive drink among all the others and the most important one for the event, your assignment was about to be done but the blonde guy appeared in the room, driving your nerves to their highest point only with his presence.

“my mother asked you to do this?” initiated the conversation, getting close to you slowly.

“u-uhm, yes” your answer reflected discomfort, “it's for the dinner meeting…” your responses were brief, trying to avoid a possible next conversation but not trying to be too dry because he's your boss, your earnings depend on him.

“i see” his short reply relaxed you a little bit, you supposed that he wasn't in the mood for a longer conversation and you were perfect with that, as far as you stayed from him the better.

sadly, your assumption was wrong and the chinese boy was just waiting for a moment of distraction on your side, the moment that came when the last bottle of wine had to be kept on the drinks cabinet, as soon as you turned around with the fragile object in hand ricky went direct to your back and pushed you, this was enough for you to fall, the wine slipped out of your hands and ended up colliding on the floor in front of you. the only response that came out of your body was your hands covering your mouth as a sign of surprise, your throat started to hurt as you tried to suppress the tears, a stupid “mistake” like this is going to cost you your job and probably the future ones, working as a housekeeper depends a lot on the recommendations people give to their acquaintances, you think the shen family is going to recommend you after this? of course not, even if you're not at fault in this situation, who is going to believe the humble servant over the son of the family? no one.

“look at what you've done,” pointed out, bending down on your side while looking at the mess he created, “do you think my mother will get you fired for this?” said with a smile.

you turned up to him with an anxious stare, your heart started to beat faster, and the big amount of tears you were saving came out like a waterfall, “don't tell her, i will make it up, clean everything! you don't have to pay me, please just don't fire me” your desperate cries weren't more than a sweet melody to his ears who were pleased to hear it, and craved for more.

“hm… let's have an agreement then” the opportunity of having something as an agreement with the youngest of the shen in a way to preserve your job was risky, especially knowing the kind of behavior he had with you before, but losing your employment wasn't an option you could take right now. “i will take the blame for this,” started, his index finger pointing to the broken wine, “but you have to let me do to you whatever i want, that's the only condition i ask you, you know what i mean by that, right?” it could be confusing for others, but you knew exactly what he was asking for and were willing to give him everything to maintain your job.

“okay, i accept…” you said the words that sealed your contract with the devil and were aware of that. more tears slide down your face knowing what is coming next for you, an act that ricky enjoyed profusely.

“don't cry, you will enjoy it” demanded, his hand grabbed brusquely your hand and made you face him, “clean this mess and go to my room, don't take much time or things will get worse for you” with those words he left the space, leaving you in a spiral of chaos and conflictive emotions.

your face being forced into the pillow absorbed the tears and silenced all the moans, groans, cries, and everything that could come out of your mouth at this moment. roughly, ricky pulled your hair driving your head up, near his so you could hear him better.

“i told you would enjoy it,” bragged, his dick slamming harder into your pussy, the impact of the amount of strength he was using made the clapping sound in the room louder, acting more desperate as a signal of his orgasm being closer.

your mind didn't agree with that, his touch on your skin felt nauseating like if you were about to vomit every time he brushed his fingers over you, but your body said the opposite, your legs trembling, your clit palpitating and your cunt clenching at every thrust while your mouth was drooling leaving a trace of saliva on your face and pillowcase, your mind dizzy with all the pleasure even if ricky was just beginning this torture.

“i already fucked you dumb but we just started, let's see how much you can last” his thurst followed the same fast but steady pace, “we won't stop until you're dripping my cum, yes?” asked you, as if your opinion were important or worth of consideration for him. his last words were an advance of what was about to happen, acting as a premonition that became true, with a last shove of his dick into your pussy the young man had his first orgasm of the night, cumming inside and holding you tight restricting your movements, his mouth biting your shoulder fighting the moans that wanted to be free. for you, this was more than humiliating, but the cumshot was so strong, it hit your interiors and filled you so deliciously that provoked your climax too, causing a strong reaction in your body that never went through a phenomenon as strong as this, the pillow helped to muffle your loud moans whilst your whole physique trembled like gelatin.

the position was changed quickly by ricky, who now had you in a mating press, his cock not leaving your cunt even when he turned you around without any difficulties like a puppet, he didn't want any of his semen leaking out of you until the end of the act. after taking a few inhalations trying to regularize his breath a bestial motion started, his whole dick coming in and out of your pussy hitting your cervix in a way that made you cry, your mouth could merely release stuttering at every shove, you completely lost the ability to speak of how good he was fucking you, even if your hole was so abused by ricky’s dick that it felt like burning or your nipples and clit being so sensitive because of the overstimulation that they react to the most minimum brush, it hurt and at this point of being fucked so dumb you can't think if you like it or not.

by the end of the action, you can't even recall an estimated number of times you've finished, it's safe to say that you probably passed out too, and didn't notice, it's not like ricky cares so you probably fainted and he continued fucking you… but that's okay because his mission was completed! having you filled up to the brim of his seed, cunt so full of it that at the moment you got up to dress it started dripping out and sliding through your legs, which got the mean boy mad and he had no more option than to masturbate you, using his delicate and slender fingers to maintain everything inside while a few insults and degrading words were said, that hurt your ego but hey, you need to accustom to it if you want to keep your job.

#anon ask #zerobaseone smut #zb1 smut #zerobaseone ricky #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 ricky #zb1 x reader #shen ricky smut #shen ricky x reader #ricky smut #mean dom #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone scenarios #zb1 scenarios

[agendabymooner]

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)

Summary:  Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.

Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx

masterlist

iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind

“Regards,

Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”

That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early. 

I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.

None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.

But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week. 

I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers. 

Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that. 

I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them. 

It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works. 

I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room. 

For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot. 

A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.

“Oh you,” I blurt out.

Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.” 

“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”

“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?” 

I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet. 

Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located. 

A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel. 

Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates. 

Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.

The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does. 

But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.

“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth. 

“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression. 

“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?” 

“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”

“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”

“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”

“Have you raced before?” 

“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”

“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”

“Gotcha.”

Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?” 

“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.” 

“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.

“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?

“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously. 

I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow. 

It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready. 

“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”

“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.” 

“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”

Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.” 

I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much. 

“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.

“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?” 

“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”

“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context. 

I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.” 

Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”

I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.” 

“Is he?” 

“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone. 

“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”

“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”

“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”

“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes. 

“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again. 

“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.

“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.” 

“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.” 

“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?” 

“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”

Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…

“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”

“Like it’s a fast lane.”

Now I can’t deny it. 

I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.

But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up. 

The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—

“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today. 

I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?” 

Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.” 

Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him. 

I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.

I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?

“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”

“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?” 

“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”

“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.

“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him. 

“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.” 

“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”

I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.” 

“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity. 

It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.

I'm such a fucking mastermind.

My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.

He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice. 

Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room. 

I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”

“Bat lair?” He chuckles.

“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.” 

“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise. 

I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?” 

“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.” 

“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?” 

“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?” 

“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips. 

“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.” 

Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”

Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me. 

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #mercedes amg imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fluff

[ncitylights]

Holy Mother Mary - stalker!doyoung

Warnings: brief smut, noncon, pet names (baby and love), angst, doyoung is a bit of a sadist and isn’t as holy as he seems, doyoung threatens reader, knife usage (could be referred to as knife play), doyoung has a huge cock, jeongyeon (twice) is readers new best friend and is briefly in the story, doyoung has a dacryphilia kink (tell me if I missed something 😞 not proofread)

wc - 1.1k

Masterlist

Doyoung was sweet. Sweet to everyone that he encountered or crossed paths with. Constantly using his manners and giving people bright, cute smiles. That’s what made you love him.

You two were best friends. You both met in church – both age 7 – and being the sweet, friendly person that he is, he approached you first. You’re usually shy so you hesitated to talk to him as well, but eventually opened up after a few days.

Of course, you never had feelings for him, only loving him the way best friends are supposed to love each other, but he was an entirely different story, falling for you back in college. You told him that you didn’t want to ruin the friendship, and of course, he understood that so he didn’t bring it up anymore.

And that’s also when he started to hang out with others and leave you hanging, always making excuses to meet up with other friends. You didn’t like it when he left you alone after promising to hang out with you or come to your house to binge movies or tv shows.

So you started to avoid him as well, only occasionally talking to each other. You missed him more than anything but you thought that this was for the best.

That was all a year ago, and you two stopped talking months prior. Now, everywhere you go, you felt eyes on you.

“God, jeongyeon, what do I do? Everywhere I go, I feel like I’m being watched. Maybe I should go back to church.” You said in between grumbles, your head in your hands as you sat, frustrated and scared.

“Maybe you should. You’re probably just paranoid. Ever since you and Doyoung stopped talking, that’s when all of this began. You maybe miss him too much.” She replied, sipping on her coffee. You both were in a café, talking about work and drama, as usual.

“I’ll go later. It’ll make me feel closer to him.” You replied, lifting your head to look back at her, she lifting an eyebrow, placing the cup back down.

“You miss your Christian boyfriend that much? God, give me a break, he’s too happy for me.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance, clearly tired of you talking him.

“We never got together! He confessed once!” You argued back, loud, but not loud enough to attract attention to the table.

“Whatever. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. He gives me bad vibes.” She said, gathering her things, clearly ready to leave.

“Where are you going, jeong?” Your gaze follows her as she walk by you, your tone clearly confused and surprised.

“I have to get to work. My boss texted me before our get together and told me to come in,” She replied, a soft smile coming across her face as she kisses your cheek, the kiss not surprising you because that was the way you both said goodbye to each other.

“I promise you that I’ll text you later, mhm? Be careful.” She finished before leaving, leaving you all alone.

Sighing softly and grabbing your things, you left the café not long after her, walking to your car. As you hopped inside, setting all of your belongings down, that’s when you felt it. The cold feeling of being watched. You sighed, thinking nothing of it as you closed the car door, backing out of the parking lot and driving onto the road.

Today was gonna be a long day.

—

The church looked different from the last time you visited. Veins all around the building and in need of a pressure wash. Still, the church was your childhood.

You walked into the building, looking around immediately, a smile spreading across your face. The church still had the Jesus and Mary adorned walls, the statue of Jesus on the wall behind the alter, and the freshly polished pews. It almost made you feel like you were younger. You walked farther into the church, but something felt off..

“Reminds you of our childhood, huh?” A voice behind you said, the voice making your hairs stand on end. You turned around and just as you thought, your childhood best friend was there. He looked different. His natural black hair a bit messy and features more sharp and pointed. He still had the rosary that you gave him when you both were younger, which warmed your heart. He walked closer to you, an unknown glint in his pretty eyes.

“You still look the same from the last time I saw you, __.” He said, looking you up and down before licking over his lips, which slightly made you uncomfortable.

“I’ve been thinking about you so much, love.” He continued, walking even closer, causing you to back up, your back hitting the alter after a while.

“Following you everyday, waiting for the perfect time to get my hands on you. Waiting to get back at you for breaking my heart. I’ve been nothing but a sweetheart to you and you say that you don’t wanna be with me?” He grabs both of your wrists, turning you around before bending you over the cold alter.

Fear filled your eyes as you put the pieces together, understanding his true intentions. You open your mouth to scream but just as you do so, you feel something cold and sharp across your neck.

“Fucking scream and I’ll slit your pretty throat, understand?” He said as he put the knife back away and pulled your pants and panties down, holding your wrists with just one of his hands. You nod quickly so that you wouldn’t have any more problems with him. You can hear his buckle being undone and his jeans and boxers being pushed down his legs. You gag in disgust as he slaps his huge cock on your ass, a throaty chuckle erupting from him as he brings his fingers down to your cunt, rubbing small circles on your clit.

You bite your lip to keep quiet, refusing to give in to him. He grinds slowly, rubbing his cock on your perky ass. You glance down in complete disgust as Doyoung smacks your cunt, ripping a scream from your mouth, the beads of his rosary clinking together.

“There you go, baby. So fucking wet, I could never tell that you were scared to begin with.” He said with a fake coo, pushing his cock into your cunt, a disgusting, obscene squelch sounding in the echoey church. You begin to cry as he grabs your face, turning it to the Jesus statue in the front of both of you, the tears running on his soft, veiny hands.

“So pretty when you cry.” He groans out, pulling back before thrusting into you hard enough to knock the breath out of your body.

“How about we give him a little show, hm?”

#nct drabbles #nct hard hours #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #nct doyoung #nct hard thoughts #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 doyoung #nct 127 hard hours #nct 127 hard thoughts #nct angst #nct smut #nct 127 x reader #kim doyoung #doyoung #tw noncon #🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ #nct scenarios #nct ff #nct fanfic #nct fic #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buckxtommy? Eww 🤢🤢 tommy is racist

I wasn't going to answer this because you're clearly a child without the ability to understand that characters, like real people, can grow, but actually I'm going to answer it and it's going to be LONG.

This got really long so I'm putting it under the cut but if you don't want to read it there's the TLDR:

Tommy was, at best, a passive member of the boys club at the 118 when we first meet him and at worst an active member who made Chim and Hen's lives harder when they first joined, but as the shitty people left the 118 and were replaced with less shitty people, Tommy starts to become kinder and more accepting and less of a toxic macho man.

He's friends with Chim and Hen when he leaves the 118. He's been away from the 118 for probably 7-8 years at this point and in that time he has clearly continued to grow.

People can change. People do change. Sometimes it takes meeting new people to spur that change and sometimes it takes a change in scenery. For Tommy it seems to have taken a mix of both to get him to where he is today - a funny, sweet, kind, queer man who is willing to STEAL A HELICOPTER and FLY INTO A FUCKING HURRICANE because someone he worked with for a few years almost a decade ago had a hunch. He believed Hen and Chim. He trusts them and they trust him.

So here's my question anon? Why don't you?

And now for the very long part under the cut...

When we first meet Tommy Kinard in Chimney Begins he is a part of the old boys club that is the LAFD and the 118. He's a person surrounded by shitty people and he adapts and behaves like them.

We don't know much about Tommy, but by the end of the episode he accepts Chim as a teammate and friend because Chim proves himself to Tommy. Do I think you should have to prove yourself to be accepted? No. But i understand the thought process because you're relying on people to have your back and save your life. We also find out Tommy's favorite movie is a romcom - not your typical toxicly masculine answer.

He shows growth in Chimney Begins and I cannot stress this enough, at the end of that episode Chim and Tommy are friends. We don't have an exact date at the end of Chimney Begins, but we can assume based on when Bobby joins and when Hen joins that it was at least a decade prior, if not more to where we are currently in canon.

In Hen Begins Tommy is still a part of the boys club at the 118, but you can see that he (and a lot of the team) don't actually agree with Captain Gerard, but he's their boss. They can't exactly call him out because that puts their own job on the line. You can see Tommy look at Gerard like 'what the fuck' when he calls Hen a "diversity hire" but he doesn't say anything in that moment - Chim does and Gerard brushes him off.

Sal makes a gay joke about Tommy in this episode and Tommy plays it off as a joke because what else is he suppose to do? Tommy looks uncomfortable when Gerard starts going on about female recruitment in the LAFD and him saying/implying that female firefighters aren't as strong, etc. He doesn't say anything, but I ask? Would you be brave enough to risk your job for someone you just met a few months ago?

When Hen gives her big speech Tommy looks back at Chim and sees him nodding. He looks at Chim because (I think) he's reminded of how they treated Chim when he first started. It's Tommy that says Hen's instincts are good after she disobeys orders and goes looking for another victim (who would have died if she hadn't). Tommy and Sal shake her hand and then Tommy pats her on the shoulder and says 'you're good'.

This interaction is both similar to and different from Tommy's 'moment' with Chim. Similar because it seems like Tommy needs new firefighters to prove they can be there before he trusts them and different because the Chim and Tommy moment is framed as the start of a friendship and that moment with Hen and Tommy is framed as the start of a good working relationships.

The next scene is Hen talking to their new interim captain about how her colleagues are impressed with her and how they've filed complaints against Captain Gerard. We can assume that Tommy was one of those colleagues.

Then we get Bobby Begins Again - Tommy is laughing and joking with Hen about how long the new captain will last. Tommy even asks to place a bet on credit and Hen jokingly says he better pay because she knows the bookie.

Tommy is shown to be a part of the team - the Hen and Chim team - on calls. Yes, he's still friends with Sal but he's much less likely to be at Sal's side when Sal makes shitty comments. Tommy even tells Sal to stop when Sal starts going off on Bobby.

The next scene we see Tommy in is him hanging out with Hen and Chim at a bar - when Hen tells them that Bobby didn't fire Sal, he suspended him and found him a new spot, Tommy takes that information and accepts Bobby because he finds out he's a good man and a good captain.

Then we see Tommy, Chim, Hen, and Bobby hanging out, sharing war stories. We even hear Tommy talk about 'scars helping him get women' because he's still not out with the team yet - he's still hiding that part of himself because he isn't ready yet (and because that wasn't a part of the storyline for Tommy at the time).

The rest Tommy's part in Bobby Begins Again is just showing how the 118 is becoming more than just a team - family dinner for example. Tommy smiles and is excited at the idea of 'family dinner'.

When he leaves the 118 Hen and Chim are happy for him and celebrate the move because it's a good career move for him. They even smash his face into the cake!!!

AND THEN in Broken Chim calls Tommy to ask him for a favour. A favour that saves the 118s asses.

That doesn't even touch on the Tommy of today - the Tommy who is brave and kind and trusting and funny. The Tommy that Chim is friends with, that Eddie is now friends with, that Buck has a HUGE crush on.

If you like the Firefam (which I'm hoping you do since they're the main cast of the show) I would hope you also trust their judgement. If they like a character who wasn't great in the past but has grown, we should see that growth and hopefully like them too.

You can dislike Tommy all you want, but don't try to tell me it's because 'he's racist' because that isn't true. He's evolved like people do. We should want more characters like Tommy because they remind us that just because we've done something shitty in the past it doesn't mean we can't grow too.

Anyone who says OOH TOMMY IS A RACIST HOW CAN YOU LIKE HIM clearly doesn't watch the show. Just because his development happened off screen doesn't mean it didn't happen.

#asked and answered #long post #i'm so annoyed at y'all #i went back and watched parts of all three begins eps for this #and YOU CAN SEE THE GROWTH IN EACH OF THEM #911 #tommy kinard

[jaestrz]

Old love [ Kim Mingyu ] chapter 1

- single!dad au - non!idol - ceo!gyu - fluff - soft hours^^ -

“it wasn’t my intention to keep it a secret from you, I just wanted to protect her from the world and now I want to do the same to you.”

Chapter 2

🤎🤎🤎

the first time you met Mingyu, it was when you first started working under Carat inc. you were working as a supervisor. Maybe it was rare to see him come by since you and him weren’t in the same building. You’ll see his face when he tours around each offices to see the progress. It would’ve been a lie if you said your table didn’t have a pile of files that needed to be done. There were times where you overheard him asking your colleague why you were the only one that has a stack of files on your painfully small cubicle. He wasn’t lying. You wished your table was a little bit bigger.

But it still managed to get you to finish it by working after hours. You weren’t procrastinating, you swear. Works pile up faster than you actually thought despite working with a big company. Everything just keeps flowing without a stop. You worked over time to get everything done and the next morning there would be another 12 files on your desk, maybe even more than that if it gets busier.

yeah. As if you’re the only supervisor in this goddamn company.

It was to the point where accidentally falling asleep while working was getting a little to normal. “Are you okay y/n? If you need help I can help with some files if you really need some rest.” You herd Chan’s voice the opposite side of your desk called out. His head peeks to see your condition which you could only forced out a smile and say your fine. Liar. You were actually dying inside, the small spaces were making you anxious. You couldn’t believe it either you worked like that for a year and a half without filing any complaints to Mingyu.

It was true. You followed Mingyu and his PA here and there for business purposes because people liked your works. It was also the reason why Mingyu probably chooses you.

You were overworking without even watching yourself but Mingyu was, and there was a sympathy feeling in his heart.

Why would he? He only knows you as a supervisor who knows more than what a supervisor should know. Mingyu only saw you as a smart employee.

-

Your knuckles hit against his office door, before walking in the room, delivering him the files his PA was supposed to deliver. But you’re stopping in your tracks when you saw him doing something with a laptop on the table while he uses the pc to show his layout for some business job. Mentally cursing under your breath, you rubbed your temple when the headache starts to kick in. Out off all times, I decide to walk in him during a meeting. Good job y/n. You thought to yourself, eyeing at Mingyu as a sign for apology but before you could leave, he muted his meet and asked you to wait for a while which you did because he was your boss. You were ready to get an earful from him today.

Weirdly as it sounds, you were watching him when you sat at the cushion sofa in his room. His focus when it comes to meetings could honestly beat you.

And how fast he could take a note without having to hear it again. Your hand was unconsciously gripping the file you were supposed to ‘deliver’ to him. A bit annoyed because he has a PA that could do the job yet here you are. In his office, sitting on his sofa and waiting like an idiot. You couldn’t help but took a glance at his office. Yeah, you did work in the company for almost 2 years, but you never actually had the chance to be in his office and look at his things.

Because first, his office and your cubicle weren’t on the same floor. His was a little bit higher than yours. Second, you never paid attention to your surroundings. You’ve rarely been to his office except for sending some files his PA couldn’t send and asking questions about work. It kept your mind occupied till the point where you didn’t have a moment to think about what was in front of you. This was probably your world record of staying this long in his office.

This man acts… weird.

He comes around 9:10 in the morning and leaves at 4:30 in the afternoon, came to work without a proper attire and only changes into a suit last minute if he has a meeting in his schedule. How did you know? You don’t know either… maybe his PA let’s out a little too much information to you.

There were drawings on his pin board. A kid’s drawing to your point of view. Does he have a kid? Married? But he looks young, maybe he has a family in his private life that he didn’t talk about. Great. You worked for almost 2 years and you didn’t know what your boss is the type of. He’s focus when he needs to and relax when he wants to, you suck at reading people’s expression.

You busied your mind by relooking at the complete file in your hand whilst he finishes off his meeting, not knowing once in a while he was actually watching you.

It took somewhat a few minutes for him to finish the online meeting and your eyes snapped back at him, stood up as soon as he was done. Since when did you get so tensed.

There was so many scenarios that could really happened. Anxiety crept through your skin. Did you do something wrong? Was he going to get angry at you for cutting in his meeting? A minor mistake in the files that could probably be a big problem to him? Were you going to get yelled at?

“I really don’t have to stay just to give you the file sir. I could’ve come back later once your meetings finish-”

“hey, it’s fine. I’m not going to kick you out over a meeting and your table was actually far, that would be tiring to walk back and forth over a worksheet.” He was too calm to be a CEO. Too calm for you. Sending files to your boss wasn’t in your job application. It was supposed to be the PA. Where did she go?

Mingyu could really be tough when it comes to work. He either likes your work progress with just a nod or he just gives you back and say ‘not satisfied’ as a sign for you to redo the entire thing from scratch.

But then he just put the file aside and asked you to sit down.

“did I do something wrong sir?” You questioned, a hint of hesitation in your voice once he’s realizing he accidentally scared you. Mingyu shook his head no before a soft chuckle left his lips, “hey, relax y/n. Did the upcoming project got you this tensed?” His voice was soft. And you wondered if this was how he is with his family. “Can you fill in Sungji for the mean time? She’s getting married, and we have a business meeting in a week. I can clear your work, Chan and Hansol can cover it.”

You thought about it. Going on another business trip with your boss. Except without your best friend Sungji and you’re going to be his PA. “is there a reason why you trust me with business trip? Jisoo and Jeonghan are more than just a supervisor…”

“I don’t look at titles y/n. You’re acting like this is the first time you’ve gone on a trip with me.” You bit your tongue, to stop yourself from saying anything else out loud that you might regret later on. But then again,

this would be very bad for you.

#seventeen #ao3 #love #svt fluff #fanfic #imagines #kim mingyu #svt #mingyu kim #svt x reader #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #mingyu

[effortandmore]

the restitution coefficient | ksj x knj (18+)

summary: seokjin has everything going for him. he was one of the youngest people to make VP at his company, at the top of his class in college, is a bit of a racquet sport savant, an excellent cook, and good-looking. like, really good looking. according to people other than his mother, thank you very much. so, when things around him start to crumble because of one stubborn and annoyingly attractive client, he finds himself looking for vindication in a place he's sure he can’t be beat—the annual office ping pong tournament.

pairing: seokjin x namjoon

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: office/co-worker au, enemies (seokjin thinks so, anyway) to lovers, smut, fluff, minor angst

warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol, seokjin is bad at communicating, bad puns (at least i make myself laugh). here are the specific smut tags: kissing, oral sex, they're soft and annoying and seokjin talks too much

word count: 15.6k

a/n: hello! if you know anything about me, you know i love namjin v much, so here is my first namjin fic. it's my contribution to the Catch of the Century collab to celebrate jin's birthday. i had fun writing it, i hope you have fun reading it. thank you so much to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me—and to @hot-soop for the banner! you're all so lovely and i am grateful. you can read this on ao3 if like me, you prefer it for reading

There is a Kim Seokjin who still feels, most days, like a nervous kid. This Seokjin wears his coziest hoodies on the weekends and plays video games until his eyes burn and sometimes forgets to eat and shower. He is an introvert, he is insecure sometimes, he is just trying his best.

But there is also a Kim Seokjin who thinks, “never let them see you sweat,” who is quick to a one-liner, and who has, for his whole life, been faking it until he makes it. And, he supposes, by most accounts, he has made it (for better or worse).

For this version of him, there’s no question that Seokjin is the best. It's an indisputable fact, on par with universally known truths like gravity and… Well, he can’t think of too many more right this moment, but suffice it to say that his (put-on) superiority is well-known within his circle of friends, around the office, probably to passers by on the street, even.

He was the youngest person to make VP at his company (except for his boss, Min Yoongi), at the top of his class in college, is a bit of a racquet sport savant, an excellent cook, and good-looking. Like, really good looking. According to people other than his mother, thank you very much.

But her, too. Obviously.

And this is true for all the different versions of him: it’s all come relatively easy. Sure, he works hard sometimes—he studied in school, he has a diligent skincare routine, he devotes weekends to the gym and to his gaming hobby, he takes tennis lessons and plays table tennis nearly every day. So, it’s not like things have just been handed to him. Maybe they’ve been made easier because of his looks, a little natural aptitude, a lot of charisma… (And the ability to convince himself and everyone around him that he’s doing great). It’s just that even when he’s had to try, he hasn’t had to try that hard. He’s never struggled, not really. This persona he puts on, it works for him. It’s helped him get more than he ever thought he deserved.

And as anyone would, he likes it this way.

And he really doesn’t like it when things don’t come as easily as he’s used to.

Because that makes him feel like the other Seokjin, the one he doesn’t really want anyone else to see and who he doesn’t want to see reflected at him when he looks in the mirror.

It’s the feeling of things not clicking for him that has him down in the basement of the tall, gray office building he works in, grunting and sweating, frustration coming out of him by way of a series of steady thwacking sounds.

“You’re scaring me a little today,” Jungkook pants, face flushed. They’ve been at it for over thirty minutes and Seokjin’s usually done by now, ready to flash a brilliant grin, straighten his tie, and ride the elevator back up to his office to close another deal.

“Just—thwack… so—thwack… annoying—thwack…” Seokjin isn’t in the same shape as Jungkook. He’s leaner, less muscle, but has a little more stamina for cardio like this. He wouldn’t dare challenge the other man to a lifting contest, but at this, he’s sure he can win.

He always wins.

Jungkook sighs when he misses his next shot just wide of the blue table. Seokjin can’t help the satisfied smile spreading across his face when he wins again, just like he does every day. He makes sure to wait until Jungkook’s paying attention before he throws his arms up in victory and shouts something unintelligible about being the greatest of all time. This win is exactly what he needed today.

“Congratulations,” Jungkook says, softly as always, which is a little funny because Seokjin knows he’s a confident kid; good at his work, strong, attractive, smart (reminds Seokjin a little of himself, if he’s being honest). “Another ping pong victory must feel good.”

Coming from anyone else, it might have come across as sarcastic, but not from Jungkook. He’s almost always earnest. Seokjin can’t relate; he moves through the world by keeping anything too honest tucked deep down inside. But he envies his coworker for it a little (and will never, ever admit that out loud).

“It does,” he says, unrolling the sleeves of his button-down. “Even though it’s called table tennis. How many times do we have to go over this?” And then more to himself than his companion, “I needed that.” It’s as transparent as he cares to be.

“Do you want to talk about the deal?”

Seokjin scoffs. “No. It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure it gets sorted out.”

And he means it. He will. He’s Kim Seokjin—he always wins. Maybe this one will just take a bit longer than it should have.

The deal is big. It’s really big; that’s why he’s involved in the first place. Usually he’s overseeing things these days; it’s a perk of being the VP of sales. He assigns his team to deals; doesn’t take the lead on them anymore. Jungkook, with his wide eyes and easy smile, is one of his best sales directors and gets most of the large contracts assigned to him. But this one was too important, so Seokjin took the client on himself, confident he could close in the first quarter.

Except it’s about four in the afternoon on 31 March, and he hasn’t closed the deal. He won’t today. For the first time in recent memory, Kim Seokjin needs to admit defeat. Which is why he really needed to at least win that fucking table tennis game.

When the elevator doors open on the top floor of the office tower, he’s sure he’s got everything under control. He’ll march into Yoongi’s office with all the quarterly sales numbers and explain that while yes, this deal was Very Important, certainly closing it in the second quarter won’t be a problem—his team has met their goals for the first quarter. In fact, it’s possible that Seokjin is really doing the company a favor by postponing this deal… It will help to pad April’s figures, which is usually a slow time for new contracts.

Yes, he thinks, this is all plausible, reasonable. Foolproof.

The smug smile on his face withers, however, when he passes Yoongi’s office on the way to his own and sees the CEO of the company already has a visitor. His assistant clears his throat, just loud enough to get Seokjin’s attention. “Yoongi-ssi asked to see you in his office when your meeting with Jungkook was done.” And then he adds in a hushed tone, “I think you’re in trouble.”

Taehyung smirks when he says it and it’s enough to sap all of the remaining joy out of Seokjin’s body. Why does he keep such a shithead assistant around, anyway? He’s the Kim Seokjin—he doesn’t deserve to be mocked by someone who works for him.

“You’re in trouble,” he retorts, immediately regretting it. It’s weak and he knows it. He’s too distracted to come up with anything better, though, so before Taehyung can give him another smartass comment in return, he continues. “Who’s in there with him?”

Taehyung just shrugs. “Some client, I think. You could ask Jimin if you really want to know. But they’re waiting for you.”

“You know,” Jin says as he straightens his tie and starts walking toward his boss’ office, “he’d hate knowing you called him Yoongi-ssi.” Yoongi tends to be casual with them in the office, which always throws Seokjin off a little—he prefers to draw boundaries between work and his personal life.

“Ooh…” And Jin can almost hear the smirk on Taehyung’s lips. “What do you think he does to bad boys?”

“You’re disgusting,” Jin calls over his shoulder.

His assistant lets out a giggle and Jin rolls his eyes even though he’s trying not to laugh, too. He’ll never let Yoongi’s assistant, Jimin, see him smiling as he passes toward Yoongi’s office. He’d have to admit how much he loves Taehyung. Not going to happen.

Observing through Yoongi’s floor-to-ceiling glass walls, Seokjin is sure that his assistant is wrong about the man in there with his boss. Because Seokjin would remember this client. He can only see the back of the man’s body, but it’s enough of a look to know that it’s a figure Seokjin would have committed to memory if he’d ever been fortunate enough to encounter it in person. The man is broad across the shoulders (but not as broad as Jin) and his honey brown hair skims across his neck in a manner that’s meant to look haphazard, but probably cost as much as one’s of Jin’s own haircuts. Or more.

Maybe it’s that the man is less gifted when it comes to his facial features and that’s why Jin doesn’t remember.

He knocks on Yoongi’s door with a couple quick raps and then pushes it open and steps in. He should bow, probably, he should say something, but he sees the client’s face and he is… uncharacteristically speechless. There is nothing wrong with the client’s face. Except that it’s pretty close to fucking perfect. The man stands, and oh… he’s tall. Big. Big everywhere, Jin thinks.

The perfect man, which is what he is now known as in Jin’s mind, reaches his hands out and gives a wide, dimpled grin.

It takes all of Jin’s years of practice in presenting a careful image for him to smile back professionally—although he’s pretty sure he’s the color of a tomato, and about to just say “dimples” instead of anything coherent.

“Seokjin-ssi, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Kim Namjoon!”

And, oh… That is… a problem.

“Kim Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

And god, he’s being rude, he realizes. He shoves his hands forward mechanically and shakes the actually-not-perfect man’s hands and bows his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Namjoon-ssi.” Because Namjoon is a client. He is the client; the one who won’t close this fucking deal with Seokjin—the one who is causing him to lose beauty sleep and eat hotteok outside of his cheat days and has possibly caused not one, but two stress pimples to appear on Jin’s face in the last month. The client he’s only ever spoken to exclusively on the phone because he doesn’t know how to use his webcam. He’s the single most infuriating person Jin has never met. Until now. When they are meeting. And Kim Namjoon is unfortunately gorgeous and tall and apparently nice even though Jin wants to shake him by the shoulders and start begging for him to sign the contract already.

“Have a seat, Jin,” Yoongi says in a calm voice that Jin very much wishes did not have the undercurrent of amusement in it that it most definitely does.

So, he sits next to Namjoon and gathers himself for whatever it is that’s happening here. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that Namjoon is still smiling, and Jin can’t decide if that means he’s not about to be fired in front of their most important potential client or that Namjoon is taking pleasure in the fact that Jin is about to be fired in front of him.

“You’re not in trouble,” Yoongi says, mercifully.

Seokjin lets out a high-pitched, nervous cackle, snaps his mouth shut immediately after, regrets most of his life choices, and then swallows any dignity he has remaining and nods. It’s a long three seconds. “Of course not. Thank you for the reassurance.”

A few more mildly torturous seconds pass where no one speaks, and Seokjin starts to sweat like he’s in the middle of another table tennis game with Jungkook. It’s not quite his worst nightmare, but having his most difficult client sitting less than a meter away from him on the day he failed to close the biggest deal his company’s had in the pipeline in a long time comes… pretty close to the top of the list.

“So…” he starts, hoping he sounds slightly more composed than he feels inside, “What brings you here Namjoon-ssi?”

Kim Namjoon straightens up in his chair before leaning unfortunately closer to Seokjin. He looks positively pleased to be in Yoongi’s office, dimples more prominent than when Seokjin walked into the office and eyes bright. “Well, first, I should apologize.”

It isn’t at all what Seokjin expected to hear and he doesn’t hate it, but it certainly seems like it’s going to be followed by a second thing that he strongly suspects he may not like quite as much.

“Not at all,” Seokjin replies, although there’s a small (large) part of him that does think his client should apologize for being so difficult to work with (and a little bit for not knowing how to use a webcam).

“I know working with my company hasn’t been the easiest for you,” Namjoon continues. And fuck, he’s got this bashful sort of grin he gives like he’s embarrassed and contrite and so fucking handsome Seokjin might forget to breathe a little bit. And forget to respond. When he stops staring at his client, he sees Yoongi watching him expectantly with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Seokjin finally says. It comes out in a bit of a rush as he waves a hand in polite dismissal. “You’ve been a pleasure to work with.” He hates the words as they come out of his mouth, because he’s a lot of things, but he’s not really a liar. Not like this. Kim Namjoon has been a complete pain in his ass to work with. To reiterate: he can’t use a webcam. And that’s not all! He asks for the most minute changes to every single document Seokjin and his team provide. He takes forever to make the smallest of decisions and then proceeds to change his mind about them quite literally hundreds of times before he finally settles.

“I’m glad you think so,” Yoongi chimes in, “because you and Namjoon-ssi are going to be working together much more closely for a while.”

Seokjin looks between Yoongi and Namjoon waiting for more explanation. He’s not sure how he could possibly work more closely with Namjoon. This project has been his entire life for months. He has been eating, sleeping, and breathing this deal and the only thing that takes up more of his time than closing the deal lately is wondering why a grown adult who is the Vice President of Operations for a fairly large company can’t use Zoom.

He chokes down every pained, sarcastic comment couched in a joke he might want to make and gives his most winning smile to his boss. “That sounds great,” he says. He’s almost sure it doesn’t sound like he wants to cry.

But he does want to cry. Especially when Namjoon beams in his direction and nods, excited like a retriever. “I think so, too, Seokjin-ssi! I’m looking forward to this so much.”

Swallowing the large lump that’s forming in his throat, he smiles back. “So, so great…” he mutters. “So… exciting.”

***

Over the weekend, he sort of has time to process the drastic turn his work life is about to take. Kim Namjoon, Vice President of Operations for one of the country’s most prominent seed and soil companies, is coming to work out of his office. Not the building, mind you, but Seokjin’s very own perfectly-curated-to-his-own-tastes-and-not-big-enough-to-share office.

It’s enough to make his face break out with a third pimple.

Yoongi and Namjoon had dreamt up some ridiculous theory that Namjoon’s boss, the CEO of the seed and soil company, might be willing to sign the deal with just a few more adjustments to the contract and a well-constructed pitch video. Namjoon says he wants the software that Seokjin has to offer, says he knows it will streamline work for his front-line employees, but his boss is apparently… particular. Hard to please.

Theoretically, it should make him feel better that Namjoon claims to have not actually been the blocker to getting this deal signed. He says he’s nothing more than a middle-man; trying to convince his boss that Seokjin’s software will be a win for them. Theoretically, he should have laughed when Namjoon said he’d been spending the last few months “planting the seed” about how helpful the software would be with his boss. Seokjin loves puns. But loves them most when he’s the one making them; loves them a little bit less when they’re delivered by his nemesis and then immediately followed with a bashful grin and two impossible to ignore dimples.

As he gets ready for work on Monday morning, he still can’t laugh at Namjoon’s bad joke, and he doesn’t feel better about having to share his space. He feels inadequate and annoyed (and he knows at least Yoongi will be able to read it on his face—probably Jungkook and Taehyung, too. This makes him vulnerable, like a gazelle in a Richard Attenborough narration. He can’t think of anything worse) and he hates those feelings almost as much as he hates the circumstances.

It doesn’t help that it’s one of those mornings where nothing is going his way. He did get that third pimple over the weekend (and a fourth if anyone’s counting—Jimin will be), and he accidentally squirted concealer all over his bathroom mirror when he was trying to cover up said pimples. He must’ve made his coffee in too much of a rush because there are grounds in it, and he missed his first alarm so he’s now forced to drink the sludgy coffee because he would have had to sacrifice his skincare routine in order to make a new pot, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that with the rough state of his chin.

After missing his usual train, he dashes through the wet, gray morning streets to the office from the later train. He spends the jog hoping he beats Taehyung there, because the last thing he’s in the mood for is taking shit from his own assistant for being late. It’s far more entertaining to be the shit-giver, and Taehyung and Jimin are easy targets—both usually late on Mondays, conspicuously arriving together with one of them in the same clothes they wore on Friday.

It’s not his lucky day.

“Hyung is late!” he hears a sing-song voice call as he emerges from the elevator. So many things are wrong with this scenario, the first being that Tae knows he’s not supposed to call Seokjin his hyung when their other coworkers can hear, and the second that Tae and Jimin are sitting atop Taehyung’s desk, pointedly not working and looking a little too pleased for a Monday morning in their bleak office building.

“What’s got you two so enthused?” he asks, setting his bag down by Tae’s desk, ignoring the use of the informal honorific, and adjusting his running-tousled necktie.

“It’s moving day!” Jimin replies cheerily, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of Seokjin and Yoongi’s offices.

“I don’t see what there is to be excited about,” Seokjin mutters. Namjoon is in Yoongi’s office, gesturing enthusiastically as Yoongi watches him with that familiar half-amused grin on his face.

Taehyung reaches up and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Now, hyung, maybe this will be good for you. Help you loosen up.” He’s giving Seokjin a shit-eating grin when he adds, “I hear he’s really good at ping pong, too.”

Seokjin definitely should have scolded him for the hyung thing the first time.

Instead, he grabs his bag and takes a step back from the two assistants. “Table tennis. And don’t you have work to do?” he tells more than asks as he heads past them to his office.

“Try and have an open mind, hyung!” Jimin calls as Seokjin shuts the door.

Kids these days are so disrespectful.

In his office, another desk has been added. It’s not yet full with paperwork and photographs like Seokjin’s desk is, and he wonders for a moment if Namjoon will even bother. It’s not like he’s here permanently; there’s really no reason for him to get attached to the space. To Seokjin’s space.

There’s not much time to think about it before the door swings open. No one just comes in without knocking except Taehyung, so Seokjin doesn’t even look up from his screen before saying, “You need to knock it off with the hyung stuff when we’re in the office, you know?”

And Taehyung is generally unpredictable in his replies, but silence is never an option he indulges in, so when there’s no response, Seokjin knows something is wrong.

“Tae?”

He hears a throat clearing in response and just from the tone of the sound, he knows it’s not his assistant.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

“Oh, it’s you.”

“If by ‘you,’ you mean Namjoon, then yeah. It’s me. Do you think you could give me a hand?”

Namjoon is in the doorway to the office with a large box in his arms. Seokjin knows the box is large because Namjoon is large, one of the facts he’d managed to retain from their first in-person encounter, and the box conceals most of the upper-half of Namjoon’s body. All Seokjin can see above the box are his behind his glasses, and the stupid, stupid dimples on display.

He realizes that he hasn’t actually responded to Namjoon yet, a moment past when it turns awkward. Oops.

“Sure, what can I do?” he asks, standing from his desk.

“If you could just grab Ponyo, that would be great. Thanks Seokjin-ssi.”

“Ponyo?”

Namjoon gestures with his chin to the glass bowl stacked carefully atop the box he’s holding. “Ponyo. My fish.”

“Clever,” Jin says as he grabs the fishbowl.

“Ah, not really. But thank you. She’s a good companion, doesn’t talk back. And I’ve had her for a long time.”

“So you like the strong, silent type?”

When Seokjin looks up, Namjoon is staring back at him, wide-eyed, and he could swear there’s the hint of a flush on his cheeks. “Not exactly,” Namjoon mutters as he turns and sets the box down on his new desk.

“It was a joke, Namjoon-ssi.”

“Right. Of course.” Namjoon straightens his tie and won’t make eye contact. “Well, thank you for your help. I’ll leave you alone now. Well… not really alone. But…”

It’s going to be a long few weeks, Seokjin decides. He may not be Namjoon’s biggest fan, but it would be better for both of them if it wasn’t this awkward the whole time they’re sharing an office. So he extends an olive branch. “I’m going down to get some coffee. Would you like anything?”

Namjoon brightens immediately. “Thank you, Seokjin-ssi. Iced americano, please,” he says as he starts to pull his wallet out.

“My treat,” Seokjin replies, waving him off. “A ‘welcome’ gift, I guess.”

Namjoon smiles again—wide and really very pretty, Seokjin admits to himself reluctantly—as he gives a quick, shallow bow.

He’s so polite. Infuriating.

Seokjin can’t explain why getting out of his own office feels so much like a relief. This is the first time he’s found so much solace in an elevator ride. So far, Namjoon’s really not at all what Seokjin had made him out to be after months of tedious back and forth. But it’s best to exercise caution in these situations, he thinks. You never know when people are waiting for you to show your vulnerable side. And it’s only been five minutes of Namjoon being polite compared to months of him being the most difficult client Seokjin had ever had.

“Good morning, Seokjinnie!”

Seokjin assesses the lobby of the building quickly, making sure no one he knows heard the nickname. What’s with people not just using his name today, anyway?

“Morning, Hobi.”

“The usual, hyung?”

Hobi is a saint in a man’s body, this is something Seokjin knows for sure. He used to work in the office on the software development team, and about a year ago decided that the money wasn’t worth it. Seokjin envies him if he’s being honest, walking away from security in exchange for a chance at happiness isn’t a risk he’s ever been willing to take. But it worked for Hobi; he owns the small cafe in the lobby of the office building, and he does well for himself without working the grueling hours that he used to—the hours that Seokjin still works. Supplying all the office lackeys their daily caffeine dose suits Hobi, too, even if he does get flustered when the line is longer than one person.

If Seokjin was really interested in the highest quality drinks, he’d go a block down the street to the hipster shop where all the baristas are hot, but dicks. What Hobi provides is a different kind of comfort. He’s everyone’s friend—even someone sort of closed off like Seokjin can’t help but open up a bit to him. They’ve known each other for a few years now, and while he’s not sure he can call anyone his best friend, Hobi is pretty close. Countless movie nights and talks over chicken and beer have sort of cemented that.

Seokjin nods. “The usual and a large iced americano, too.”

Hobi pauses and lifts an eyebrow over his ridiculous glasses with yellow lenses.

“For the new guy,” Seokjin explains. “Just this once.”

“Oh! For Namjoonie! I should have known.” Hobi gives Seokjin a smirk and sets about making the drinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

As soon as the question comes out of his mouth, he knows it shouldn’t have. It’s inevitable that he’ll regret asking.

“Nothing,” Hobi says, “he’s just… you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Seokjin replies automatically, then realizes he sounds a little dreamy. “I mean… he’s fine. It’s polite to do something nice for the new guy. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything, obviously.” He’s definitely rambling now, and he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s just coffee. And he’s a client,” he adds in spite of himself.

How the fuck does Hobi always do this? It’s a waste that he owns this coffee shop. He should be a fucking Interpol agent or something.

“Mmhmm.” It’s obvious Hobi sees right through him. Of course he does.

“He’s mostly insufferable,” Seokjin continues, trying to act nonchalant. “How do you know him, anyway?”

“Oh, Jinnie… I know all the cute boys in the building.” Hobi sets two drinks down on the counter next to the espresso machine. “Anything else on your mind?”

“I have to share my office with him.” This comes out of his mouth as a full-blown whine, far more plaintive than he’d meant to be out loud.

Hobi just laughs. “I heard. Well, should be interesting, at least.”

Grabbing the drinks, Seokjin pouts. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“Movie night this week?”

“Yeah, but I get to pick this time.”

Hobi grins as Seokjin turns to head back to the elevator and his office. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

***

It is very bad.

The first day is fine. Namjoon is quiet (mostly), he puts his things away and organizes his desk while Seokjin works. They make polite conversation at appropriate intervals and Namjoon leaves promptly at five in the evening. Probably a husband or wife to get home to, Seokjin decides.

On the second day, Namjoon arrives at the office first, and there’s a steaming flat white waiting on Seokjin’s desk for him. It’s a little surprising, but appreciated, and Namjoon gives a trademark shy smile when Seokjin thanks him. It’s infuriatingly cute.

Then Wednesday happens. Wednesday is table tennis day. Everyone in the office knows that. It’s when he and Jungkook head down to the basement before lunch for their “Wednesday sales meeting” and Seokjin proceeds to destroy him for an hour before buying him lunch.

So, on the third day, Seokjin heads to the elevator just before eleven in the morning. Namjoon’s been gone for a while, said he had a meeting earlier, so he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to explain himself to anyone when he heads out. But Jungkook isn’t by the elevator waiting like he usually is. Maybe he’s taking some initiative, Seokjin thinks as he steps into the lift. When he gets to the basement, he loosens his tie as the elevator door opens and stops dead in his tracks after he turns the corner. Because Jungkook has taken some initiative. He’s in the middle of what looks to be a contentious match already.

With Kim Namjoon.

“What’s going on down here?” He means to keep his cool, for it to come out as a question. But it’s more of a squawk. Mortifying.

“Oh!” Namjoon is breathing heavily and his eyes widen when he notices Seokjin. This, in turn, makes Seokjin finally notice that instead of just rolling up the sleeves of his shirt like a civilized person, Namjoon has removed his shirt, leaving him in only a white undershirt. A tight, white undershirt that moves with his arms and his chest when he moves and is unfortunately quite devastating. Seokjin is definitely staring, which he only realizes when Namjoon begins to speak again. “Seokjin-ssi! Jungkook was just showing me the ropes. He mentioned you two play and that there’s an office tournament in a few weeks.” He pauses and breaks out his stupid, dimpled smile, because of course he does. “I just love ping pong,” he says brightly.

“Yeah, hyung. Namjoon-ssi loves ping pong. Just like you!”

Seokjin turns to face Jungkook, who seems to have forgotten that he is Seokjin’s employee.

“I think it’s so nice everyone here is so close,” Namjoon says earnestly before Seokjin can remind Jungkook that they’re in the office and that he is Jungkook’s boss. “You can call me hyung, too, Jungkook-ah. If you want. I feel like we’re becoming friends already.”

This draws a snort of disbelief out of Seokjin, and a starry-eyed, nervous smile from Jungkook. “Hyung…” Jungkook whispers, seemingly to himself, trying out the word. Then he nods enthusiastically. “I’d like that, thanks, hyung!”

“It’s called table tennis,” Seokjin interrupts. “Table tennis, not ping pong. And on Wednesdays, Jungkook and I play.” The words come out in a rush as he rolls his sleeves up and moves to stand next to Namjoon. It’s not that he means to be challenging, but this is his day.

“Don’t tell me you wear pink, too.”

Seokjin just glares (even though under normal circumstances, he would probably laugh). This is his table, his basement, his office, his Jungkook.

Namjoon backs down quickly. “I didn’t mean to overstep,” he says politely, handing his paddle over.

“You didn’t!” Jungkook chimes in. “I had fun playing with you, hyung.”

“Me too, Jungkook-ah, thank you!” Namjoon starts to put his shirt back on and Seokjin hates that he feels conflicted about it.

“You can stay, if you want,” Seokjin offers in a moment of pectoral-induced weakness. “You know, to get some pointers.”

“Namjoon hyung doesn’t need pointers! He beat me twice already. But I was about to come back, I swear.” There isn’t even an attempt on Jungkook’s part to disguise his adoration.

It’s disgusting.

“I can always improve,” Namjoon chimes in as he sits on the old folding chair they’d dragged down from a supply closet. “Plus, it would be nice to get to know you both better.”

Jungkook flushes and Seokjin rolls his eyes. This guy just cannot be for real.

When they play, Namjoon calls out encouragement to both of them in between scrolling his phone. Something on there must be interesting because his thumbs are flying pretty frequently. It’s unfortunate that Seokjin notices this, because it means that he’s not paying as much attention to the game as he should be.

The unthinkable happens.

Jungkook lets out a loud whoop and Namjoon claps enthusiastically from his chair. “Good job, Jungkook-ah!”

Seokjin loses table tennis that day. As he stands on his side, motionless in disbelief, he can’t help but wonder if this is some sort of sign.

“I have to go,” he mutters under his breath, not even bothering to roll his sleeves back down or straighten his tie before he gets on the elevator.

Wednesday makes one thing clear: Kim Namjoon is going to be a problem.

Over the following weeks, things continue to get worse.

First, Namjoon buys their lunch. On the surface, this is fine. Nice, even. A gesture that most people would appreciate. Especially considering that Seokjin has… maintained a professional distance between them to say the least. They barely talk after the table tennis incident, and when they do, it’s entirely about work. Namjoon, to his credit, tries, but Seokjin isn’t really sure why. It’s obvious he was trying to prove something in that basement.

Things go downhill when, after lunch, Seokjin begins to feel itchy. Really itchy. Itchy all over like poison ivy or nettle stings. The sort of itchy that’s also warm and makes you feel like your skin is just some sort of scratchy wool sweater that your grandmother won’t let you take off because you look “cute.” He tries splashing water on his face and hands, but it just keeps getting worse. It’s almost like… it’s almost like an allergy.

“Kim Namjoon!”

Namjoon whips his head up from his computer when his name is shrieked into the office.

“Is everything okay, Seokjin-ssi? You look flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

“Garlic!”

His officemate just stares at him blankly, clearly unwilling to admit to his sabotage.

“You put garlic in my lunch!”

“Uh… I mean… I didn’t make the lunch, but there could have been garlic in there, yes?” He phrases it as a question. Still playing dumb, apparently.

“I can’t believe this,” Seokjin complains. “Look at me!” He sticks his arms out, pink from the scratching and probably also from the rash that’s taking over his entire body as he speaks. “I can’t work like this.”

“I think I’m missing something…” Namjoon says softly.

“Sure,” Seokjin says. “You didn’t know I was allergic to garlic.” He rolls his eyes. “Did Taehyung put you up to this? Jungkook? Is this some sort of joke you’re all in on? You think this is funny, Namjoon-ssi?”

Namjoon’s brow lifts. “You’re allergic to garlic?”

Seokjin scoffs as he snatches up his suit jacket, and his laptop. He types out a quick message to Yoongi on his phone letting him know he’ll need the rest of the day off to recover from the horrible prank that’s been played on him.

“First table tennis, now this,” he says on his way out. “I hope you’re happy!”

Before he shuts the door—definitely not a slam, even though he really, really wants to for the dramatic effect—he thinks he hears Namjoon mutter, “I’m mostly just confused…”

Needless to say, their progress on the pitch video for Namjoon’s boss is slow. Seokjin miraculously recovers from the garlic incident, which everyone swears was not a prank, but Taehyung and Jimin do nothing to ease his suspicion when they snicker while he interrogates them. It wasn’t even a good prank, because all it does is set them behind schedule. Well, it does, and the arguing.

For the pitch, they’re supposed to be working together on supplemental materials, but they just can’t seem to seem to see eye to eye. Namjoon wants everything spelled out—so much detail, so many… words. It’s not Seokjin’s style. He’s better with visuals—charts and interactive videos and talking his clients through them. It’s proven. It’s gotten him this far. Namjoon’s not a marketer, not a salesperson. He’s a… Well, Seokjin isn’t quite sure what Namjoon is. But Seokjin is definitely a sales guy. The best sales guy. So to have this seed-man arguing with him (politely, of course, and it’s maddening) about how to properly make a pitch video is absurd.

In the end, they agree to make two separate videos and let Yoongi choose which one to hand over to Namjoon’s Board of Directors.

Namjoon looks a little confused when Seokjin offers Jungkook’s assistance. “Are you sure?” he asks, “Jungkook-ah is your best, you don’t have to do that.”

“Well, you need someone who knows how to operate a video camera, don’t you?”

Namjoon nods dumbly, like he’s still confused, but accepts the help. Good, Seokjin thinks. He wants this to be a fair fight. It’ll be more satisfying that way when he wipes the floor with them.

One day a week or so later, Seokjin shows up to the office, and he’s optimistic. He and Taehyung have been making good progress on his work for the seed company and Namjoon’s been gone with Jungkook a lot working on his own. They haven’t had to interact much, and it’s been good for Seokjin’s focus. It’s curious, though, that Namjoon remains friendly when they do see each other. It has Seokjin on edge, like the other shoe will drop any moment.

When he walks into his office, it’s clear that the shoe has indeed dropped.

“What in the…”

Plants. Plants everywhere. This was supposed to be a good day.

Namjoon’s head pops up from behind his desk, which is covered in small pots. So are the windowsills, all the empty spaces on the bookshelves, parts of the floor, and Seokjin’s own desk.

“Good morning, Seokjin-ssi!”

“Plants,” he says. He’s having a hard time wrapping his head around what he’s seeing.

“Seed starts,” Namjoon agrees. He sounds… proud. “They’re from my personal collection, but I thought they would work for the video Jungkook and I are making.”

“Your personal collection?” Seokjin finally stops scanning the room to look at the other man. “These are yours?”

Namjoon lets out a soft laugh. “Yep. Well, they’re only part of my collection. I was worried there wouldn’t be enough… Actually, do you think I should bring more? Jimin and Taehyung said more might be better. This is only a third of what I have on my balcony… Hobi seemed to think it would be enough, though, when I asked him…”

Seokjin isn’t sure if Namjoon is speaking to him anymore, or to himself.

There are a hundred questions floating through his head about what exactly is happening in his office, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask because the door opens and Yoongi peeks his head in.

“Looks like you two are getting along,” he notes, scanning the room.

Namjoon looks to Seokjin, and it’s clear he doesn’t know how to answer, that he’s waiting for Seokjin to respond.

It’s not like he can tell his boss that their client is actively trying to sabotage him. Not in front of Namjoon, anyway. There’s no other option than to lie through his teeth. “We’re doing great,” he says, and plasters on a giant (fake) smile. He feels a little off-kilter because when he says it, Namjoon positively beams. But he has to know it’s not true—he’s the one causing all these problems, anyway.

“Good, good…” Yoongi murmurs. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Just wanted to check in on your progress. Only about a week until we need to deliver the pitch. We’re on track, I’m assuming?”

They both nod in agreement, but neither of them makes eye contact with Yoongi. Namjoon’s staring at Seokjin and Seokjin is staring at the dozens of five centimeter paper pots covering his desk. On track is one way to put it, he thinks.

Yoongi hums his approval and backs out of the doorframe, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“I have to go,” Seokjin says curtly.

“Oh… Is something wrong?”

Seokjin thinks if he lifts his eyebrows any higher, they’ll take flight. And he’ll get wrinkles. Which is unacceptable. “Is something wrong?” he repeats back to Namjoon.

“You sound upset.”

“Oh. Of course not. Of course I’m not upset that my whole office is being taken over by a table tennis prodigy who spreads manure pots everywhere and steals my friends and gives me garlic poisoning and thinks he can do my job better than me!” His voice rises higher and higher as he goes on and he knows his whole face is flushing down to his chest. Namjoon starts to protest, but Seokjin cuts him off. “No. I’m leaving. You can have the office—Taehyung and I can work from the conference room. Congratulations, Namjoon-ssi. You win today.”

He tries to ignore the fact that Namjoon looks thoroughly confused and, if he’s not mistaken, more than a little bit hurt.

On top of everything, he’s a good actor, Seokjin thinks.

Of course.

This point is proven when later that day, Seokjin begrudgingly realizes he needs some paperwork out of his office. He really doesn’t want to give Namjoon the satisfaction of… well, of anything, but he needs those papers, so he heads back to his office. When he opens the door, Namjoon is at his desk, surrounded by his annoying plants, talking to someone. It’s weird, because Seokjin doesn’t see a phone in his hand or earbuds in… Maybe Namjoon is talking to himself.

Then he hears another voice. Tinny, like it’s coming through… a computer speaker?

Namjoon notices Seokjin and freezes. Caught. Caught on a video call. Which he told Seokjin he “never did.” Told Seokjin he thought his “webcam must be broken.”

Kim Namjoon is a snake and a liar and Seokjin doesn’t even care anymore that he’s got pecs and dimples and really nice thighs—his slacks look stupid anyway hugging his thighs like that—it’s inappropriate. No one this shady is attractive. Not even people who look like Namjoon.

Seokjin storms out of his own office and straight to the elevator.

“Seokkkkkkjinnnnie!”

All he can muster in response is a grumble. Even for Hobi.

“I hate him.”

Hobi, infuriatingly, just laughs. “The usual?”

“Yes, please.” Seokjin paces in front of the counter while Hobi makes his drink. “He’s a liar,” he whines, “and he filled our office with plants.”

“Not plants!” Hobi gasps, showing the appropriate amount of shock at the distressing news, but then when Seokjin looks over at him, he’s laughing again.

So much for friendship.

“It’s the last straw,” he says as he takes his drink from the counter. A large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. One of his favorites. “First there was having to share an office, then the fact that he took over my Wednesdays with Jungkook. Then the garlic, and the terrible ideas he kept pitching, and now the plants…” He pauses to lick whipped cream off of his top lip. “And he lied about the webcam, Hobi. He knows how to use the webcam!”

Hobi looks at him above the rim of his glasses. The look is more stern than the ones he usually gives. It’s the same one Seokjin gets when he’s being obnoxious about a video game or when he doesn’t let Jungkook have the last piece of chicken.

“What?” Seokjin asks flatly.

“Nothing.” Hobi raises his hands defensively and shakes his head.

“Just say it, Hobi.”

His friend pauses his work wiping down the milk steamer and tilts his head before he speaks. “I know you see things one way, but have you considered that there might be another side to all this?”

“No.” He’s sure he’s pouting now, but is it so much to ask for Hobi just to agree with him?

“He’s a nice guy, Jinnie. He thinks you hate him.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I think you should give him a chance. Maybe there’s an explanation for all of this, you know. You could just… try.”

“Hmmph.”

“We’re going out on Sunday. He’s coming. You should come, too.”

Seokjin’s eyes fly open in disbelief. “You’re hanging out with my archenemy? On a school night?”

“Don’t be dramatic. And yeah, we all are. Jungkookie, Taehyung, Jiminie, and me. We’re taking him out. It’s hard to be the new guy, Jinnie.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Yah, especially when you’re a saboteur.”

“Stop that.”

“Make me.”

“I’ll switch you to decaf.”

“This is hot chocolate, Hobi.”

“That’s what you think!”

Seokjin can’t help but smile. “Fine. I’ll give him one chance. But I don’t like it.”

Hobi smiles broadly. “Good. I knew you’d come around.”

Seokjin waves him off and crosses the lobby back to the elevator. “Just make a note for the history books that I’m being the bigger person here!”

“Sure will.” He can hear Hobi laughing at him even when the elevator door closes.

***

They make it through the rest of the work week with no “Namjoonings” as Seokjin has started calling them in his head. Namjoon rearranges the office to get almost all of the seedlings out, apologizing for causing Seokjin any inconvenience and bringing him an “I’m sorry” bonsai. When Seokjin says he barely remembers to give himself water, Namjoon just grins and promises to help care for the delicate tree himself. It’s kind of sweet.

On Wednesday, he even gets Jungkook to himself for the first time in weeks. Without Namjoon watching them play, it’s much easier to focus, and Seokjin wins table tennis that day. All three times they play.

He and Taehyung wrap up their pitch video on Friday, final edits made, adjustments inked in the contract, and he delivers everything to Yoongi for review feeling good. Of course, he’s curious about what Jungkook and Namjoon have delivered, but he feels good enough about his own pitch that he’s not letting it bother him. He’s the expert, and he taught Jungkook almost everything he knows, so he feels confident that even if Jungkook and Namjoon did a good job, Seokjin did better.

It’s the best couple of days he’s had at work in weeks.

Sunday night, he finds himself still in a good mood, crowded into a karaoke room with his best friends, a beer in hand and one Kim Namjoon sitting next to him, fidgeting with his sleeve nervously.

He’s different outside of the office, and Seokjin notices it right away. Namjoon is clearly uncomfortable with him, and it’s strange, even to Seokjin, that if Namjoon had been trying to ruin his career this whole time, that he would feel nervous around his victim. So that, combined with the apology plant and the daily drinks he’s found on his desk with cute doodles drawn on them make Seokjin think that it’s possible Hobi has a point with his whole “two sides to every story” thing.

Maybe.

Taehyung and Jimin are in the middle of a passionate duet of “I Got You, Babe,” when Seokjin decides he could, under the influence of two beers, be bothered to at least try and clear the air.

“Namjoon-ssi?”

Namjoon practically chokes on his beer. “Oh! Uh… me? Yeah?” He looks surprised that Seokjin is even speaking to him. It’s pretty cute. It’s the first time Seokjin has seen him outside of the office, and he looks like a different person. Even more attractive, which Seokjin resents. He’s got shorts on, (no one should have legs like his—it’s rude) paired with expensive sneakers and a soft-looking, oversized hoodie. His hair is apparently freshly washed, and it’s fluffy under the hood he’s had pulled up most of the night. He looks cozy. As someone who’s practically always cold, Seokjin likes it when people look cozy, when they look like they could wrap him up and keep him warm… Even his enemies. Or, alleged enemies.

“I thought… Well, Hobi thinks we should talk things out.” As cute as Namjoon is, and maybe because he looks so cute, Seokjin can’t bring himself to look the other man in the eye.

Namjoon smiles. “Hobi thinks?”

“Maybeiagreeitwouldntbesobadforustotalk.” God, he’s a mess. The words just tumble out. Why is he nervous about this?

“Yeah, I think that would be good, too.” Namjoon removes his hood and leans in closer to Seokjin—it’s loud and so it makes sense that if they’re going to talk he wants to hear a little better, but the proximity is making Seokjin a little woozy. He even smells good. It’s devastating.

He clears his throat. “Well, it’s come to my attention that I may have made some assumptions… And that it’s possible that you didn’t actually try to give me garlic poisoning on purpose.”

At that, Namjoon comes very close to spitting beer out in laughter, a hoodie-covered hand flying up to contain it.

“Yah, it’s not funny, Namjoon-ssi!”

“Sorry!” Namjoon wipes his mouth and then gives Seokjin a very serious look. “I would never, ever try to intentionally give you garlic poisoning. I had no idea you were allergic. I swear.”

“You promise?”

“I swear,” he repeats. He doesn’t look like he’s lying, but Seokjin’s been fooled by him before. Probably been fooled.

“Okay… What about Jungkook? Why are you turning him against me?”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. Wider than wide. “I really… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“What does that mean?”

“Jungkook is crazy about you! When we play ping pong, he’s always talking about ‘sunbaenim’ this and ‘Seokjin hyung’ that. It’s overwhelming sometimes.” Namjoon looks across the room to where Jungkook and Hobi are laughing with each other. “When we made our video, he kept saying things like, ‘Seokjin sunbaenim would want it like this.’ He never shuts up about you. I could never replace you, Seokjin-ssi.”

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong idea about me or my intentions here.” Namjoon’s looking at him earnestly, tilting his own head down to try and meet Seokjin’s gaze, which has settled somewhere on the floor. “I respect you, I’ve always liked working with you, and I’d like it if someday, we could be friends, too.”

“Friends,” Seokjin mumbles, trying to think about what Namjoon’s been saying.

“You know, friends. Like where one of us doesn’t hate the other?”

And that’s it for Seokjin, because Namjoon looks hesitant and cautious and soft and cozy and not at all like the villain Seokjin’s made him up to be in his head. “That could be arranged, I think.”

Namjoon’s dimples make their first real appearance of the night. “Yeah?”

“But you need to teach Ponyo some manners.”

“Huh?”

“She’s always chewing with her mouth open.” Seokjin hollows his cheeks and does his best fish impression, which results in Namjoon doubling over in laughter, his hand flying out to Seokjin’s knee to steady himself. Because Namjoon is his client, technically, he tries really hard to ignore the immediate flush he feels at the contact.

“You’re funny, Seokjin-ssi,” he says as he catches his breath.

“Hyung. Seokjin hyung. Outside of the office, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

Seokjin nods and gives his attention to the singing, trying not to show how pleased he is that Namjoon is pleased, but when he glances back out of the corner of his eye, he can’t help but feel something funny in his stomach at the sight of the dopey grin Namjoon is giving him from behind his beer bottle.

Even he can admit that, this one time, Hobi was right.

He probably drinks too many beers that night. He’s not drunk drunk, but he’s warm and flushed and even giggling when they stumble out of the noraebang a couple hours after his newly forged friendship with Namjoon takes root. They divide into taxis, everyone calling it a night fairly early so they can show up to work in the morning without having to be on the receiving end of Yoongi’s “what the fuck were you thinking?” face.

Somehow, as he watches Jimin and Taehyung pile into a taxi, then Hobi and Jungkook, it doesn’t occur to him that he’s left with Namjoon until he feels a hand on his shoulder and hears, “Hyung, want to share?”

He thinks his brain must leave his body for a moment, because without even thinking about it, he replies, “Want to come over? One more beer?”

There’s almost immediate regret when Namjoon doesn’t answer. Seokjin can’t even bring himself to turn his head to look at the man standing next to him. He’s sure he’s crossed some sort of line—a line he’d probably been the one to draw in the first place.

He barely hears Namjoon’s answer. “Yeah, okay. One more drink.”

It’s a surprise to say the least. But a good one. Seokjin takes a couple of deep breaths and lets himself sneak a glance at Namjoon. Those damn dimples are back. But instead of being annoying, Seokjin thinks they’re beautiful. Something about how happy Namjoon looks tilts Seokjin’s world on his axis. Just momentarily, anyway. Then he remembers that they’re barely friends and he’s been objectively horrible to this man for weeks—this man who is technically his client. As they get into the taxi to go back to his apartment together, he takes more deep breaths and tells himself to get it together—this is just what friends do.

Seokjin keeps a tidy apartment, so there’s no apologizing for the mess or explaining himself. If anything, it’s sparse, because he spends so much time at work and rarely entertains at his own place, except for movie nights with Hobi.

It should be weird to have Namjoon there, but what’s weird is that it’s not at all. Namjoon slides his shoes off, settles in the living room and doesn’t waste any time asking Seokjin to talk more about himself, to tell him about the friends and family members in the photos around his apartment. He’s a good conversationalist—he asks interesting questions and laughs at Seokjin’s bad jokes and really listens when Seokjin speaks, making a lot of eye contact and nodding along at all the right places.

And he’s funny, too. Self-deprecating a little, but it makes Seokjin more comfortable around him, like he doesn’t take himself too seriously. Seokjin learns a lot about Namjoon while they both drink another beer—he has a younger sister, he loves plants in a way that wasn’t already apparent (sings to them and names them and it’s just about the most endearing thing Seokjin has ever heard in his life), he “dabbles in poetry,” likes to go to museums, and claims to only make friends with people who can cook, because he’s a self-proclaimed disaster in the kitchen. More than one of his stories of near-catastrophe has Seokjin in a riot of laughter, and it’s not long before Seokjin is wondering how he’d let himself miss out on this person for so long.

They talk until neither of them is doing a good job of keeping their eyes open, and he doesn’t think twice about offering his spare bedroom when Namjoon says he should probably get home. It’s late, they’re both tipsy, he reasons. Tells Namjoon to just set his alarm a little early to go home and change before work. They have their pitch meeting with Yoongi at 9am, so it’s not like either of them needs to be there early, anyway. “Unless you have someone waiting for you at home,” he tacks on.

Namjoon ducks his head and grins. “No, no one at home. Just the plants and me. But are you sure, hyung?”

He shouldn’t feel the small bit of giddiness he does upon hearing that Namjoon is single. “Yah, it’s nothing. Bathroom’s on the right, guest room is just past it. Sheets are clean and there’s a spare toothbrush for you. Let me find you something to wear.”

He shuffles to his own room and digs around for something that will fit Namjoon. He’s taller and bigger, but Seokjin has broad shoulders and wears baggy clothes around the house most of the time, anyway. He finds an old black t-shirt and some joggers and gives them to Namjoon, who is impossibly even cuter when he’s sleepy. Seokjin needs to get to bed before he says something he shouldn’t like, “can I touch your hair?” or “want to cuddle? Your chest looks comfy,” (It does) or “can I please kiss you?”

It’s confusing, the way he feels. His whole idea of this man has been flipped upside-down in the course of a day.

“Hyung?” Namjoon’s eyeing him curiously, one side of his mouth turned up in a soft smile.

“Sorry… Spaced out. Need anything else?” He swallows down the weird sensation he feels in his chest and smiles at Namjoon.

“No, I’m all good. See you tomorrow. Thanks again. I had a lot of fun talking with you.”

“Goodnight, Namjoon-ah.”

“Goodnight, hyung.”

Sleep. He’ll feel better once he gets some sleep, he tells himself.

***

In reality, what ends up happening is that Seokjin feels much, much worse.

It’s possible he had more to drink than he thought. He wakes up in the morning to sunlight, and this is the first bad omen. Bad because he should have been up before the sun came up if he wanted to be to work on time, and Namjoon should have been up even earlier.

Namjoon. Shit.

Seokjin rolls out of bed, his headache hitting him almost immediately.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, as he pulls a shirt on and grabs his phone. Things go from bad to worse almost immediately. It’s 8:45 am and he is late. Late, late. Completely screwed late. Late for the most important meeting he’s had at work in months. The only solace is that if he’s late, then Namjoon is late, too. He scurries down the hall to the guest room, only hesitating for a second before throwing the door open. There’s no time for modesty, he thinks, they have to get moving.

“Namjoon-ah!”

But his call is into an empty room. Namjoon is gone, and the clothes he borrowed the night before are folded up neatly on the end of Seokjin’s guest bed.

Fuck.

By the time he’s on the subway (still so, so late), he finally has time to think about the situation. And he’s mad. Really, underneath that, he thinks he might be hurt that this man who he wanted to kiss so badly the night before is really trying to screw him over. And for no reason that he can think of. He let his guard down with Namjoon for one night, and this is what happens. It was probably Namjoon’s plan all along: get Seokjin drunk, decide not to wake him up, let him show up late to the meeting so that Yoongi will have no choice but to choose Namjoon’s ideas.

He’s so stupid for letting this happen. He knew Namjoon was bad news. He should have never listened to Hobi. All the good-looking ones are evil. Except him, of course.

“Morning, Jinnie!” Hobi calls brightly as Seokjin dashes through the lobby.

“No time, Hobi. I have a seed-man to take down.”

It’s probably the fastest he’s ever made it from his bed to the office. Of course, he knows he’s made some sacrifices in order to get there sooner—he hasn’t moisturized, his tie is crooked, and he’s sure his socks don’t match—but it’s all going to be worth it when he gets there and can plead his case to Yoongi.

When he gets off the elevator on his floor, he sees Yoongi alone in his office, no Namjoon. This is good. Maybe they rescheduled the meeting. It’s only 9:20, there’s no way they’re already done. He sprints across the floor, pausing briefly at Yoongi’s door to catch his breath, and then he knocks and pushes the door open a crack.

“Yoongi-ssi?”

“Oh, you decided to show up.”

He’s about to launch into an apology-slash-explanation when Yoongi speaks again, holding his hand up to gesture for Seokjin to be quiet. “I don’t want to know. I know you all went out last night, Namjoon told me.”

Kim Namjoon, Seokjin is now one hundred percent sure, is a rat.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin says, bowing slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

Yoongi laughs. “It probably will, just don’t make it a habit.”

“Of course.” There’s a pause where neither of them speak after that. Seokjin decides to just go for it. “So, about the meeting…”

“We had the meeting.”

“You had the meeting?”

“Namjoon and I met at nine.”

He wants to be mad, and he is with Namjoon. Not with Yoongi for having the meeting at the scheduled time.

“Oh, I see.”

“I’ve made a decision, and I’ll submit everything to the Board today for their Wednesday meeting.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” He wants to cry. Seokjin closes the door to Yoongi’s office and makes his way to the bathroom as quickly as he can. There’s no way he’s going to cry out in the open where anyone could see.

Years and years of hard work down the toilet because of one night of karaoke. Because of Kim Namjoon being a rat who didn’t wake him up. He can feel the pressure building in his head, worse than the hangover headache he woke up with. There’s nothing he can think of worse than failure, and now he’s failed in the biggest way. His dongsaeng and his client beating him at the one thing he’s always been the best at. It’s the worst feeling. Like he’s let Yoongi down… Like he’s let himself down.

He leans against the counter and fights the tears back. He’s Kim Seokjin. He doesn’t cry at work. The door to the bathroom swings open while he’s splashing cold water on his face. He didn’t bother with concealer that morning, so there’s nothing to mess up with the water.

“Seokjin-ssi?”

Of fucking course.

“Namjoon, I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh. I uh… Just wanted to see if you were alright. I was worried when you didn’t come to the meeting this morning.”

Seokjin laughs, loud and bitter. “Sure you were.”

Namjoon stands in the doorway, a surprised look on his face. “I was, yeah.”

“You don’t have to lie anymore, Namjoon. You win. Yoongi told me everything was decided. Congratulations. I don’t know why it was so important to you to do this to me, but I hope you’re happy.”

Namjoon’s voice is soft when he speaks, and he takes a cautious step closer to Seokjin. “You have to believe me when I tell you I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t have to believe anything you say, actually.”

“I’m not sure why you’re upset with me, hyung.”

Seokjin stands up straight. “Hyung rights revoked, Namjoon.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to laugh. Insulting. Seokjin pushes past him out the bathroom door. “Seokjin-ssi, wait, please.”

Seokjin does not wait. He strides to Yoongi’s office (Namjoon two steps behind), tells him he needs a personal day, and gets on the elevator to go back down. He’s done with Namjoon, done with this office, and done with being a fool.

He makes it home without any fanfare and sleeps most of the day. When he wakes up to make himself some food that evening, he sees chat messages from Hobi and Taehyung, asking if he’s okay. They offer to bring soup in case he’s not feeling well and both ask for him to let them know if he’s alright. He ignores them. Instead, he leaves Yoongi a voicemail, telling him he’s taking the next day off as well, stomach bug.

It’s not far off from the truth—he feels awful. Prickly and queasy and bad all over. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Namjoon standing in his living room, looking soft and innocent and kissable and happy and he hates it. It’s the feeling of insecurity he’s tried to battle his whole life, now creeping back in. He shouldn’t have let himself think a pretty boy with nice dimples and a couple of good jokes really wanted to be his friend—maybe even wanted something more.

There were a couple moments, like when Namjoon shuffled closer in the karaoke room, or when he laughed at every single one of Seokjin’s worst jokes, that Seokjin thought there might be a spark there. That maybe Namjoon’s chest felt like it was full of firecrackers when they made eye contact, too.

He feels like a fool.

He ignores his friends that night and all the next day, plays video games until his thumbs hurt, and calls his mother. By the time Tuesday night comes, he’s feeling a little better, a little more capable of putting his protective shell back on and showing up at the office. Plus, the next day is the annual table tennis tournament, and Seokjin never misses that. It was his idea to begin with, and he wins every year.

Kim Namjoon may have won the pitch competition, but he’ll never beat Seokjin on the blue table.

That night, he tells himself reaffirming statements in bed: he’s smart, he’s talented, he’s attractive, he’s Kim Seokjin and he can do anything. He only believes approximately half of it, but figures the more he repeats it, the closer it gets to true.

He sets no fewer than eight alarms for Wednesday morning. In the interest of showing everyone that he is, in fact, not to be fucked with, he wakes up extra early and makes sure his hair and face are both perfect. He puts on his nicest suit and packs his lucky table tennis clothes—a navy blue and white Fila outfit that he’s never lost tennis, squash, or table tennis in. He makes himself an Ediya latte and adds a little extra sugar. He deserves it.

Because it’s a big day, he packs a lunch instead of relying on cafeteria food or a pastry from Hobi’s shop. He needs the nutrition. He hasn’t seen the tournament bracket yet, but he’s sure he’ll be playing Jungkook, who will keep him on his toes.

At the office, everyone regards him carefully. He expects to have to ignore Namjoon in their shared office, but when he enters, Namjoon is nowhere to be found. Ponyo mouths at him from Namjoon’s desk—she’s always watching. When he asks Taehyung about it, casually of course, Tae just points to one of the conference rooms. There’s a “do not disturb — call in progress” sign tacked to the door.

So the first half of the day is quiet. He doesn’t see Namjoon, but he does notice his name listed in the tournament bracket that’s been posted in the lunchroom. He’s on the opposite side from Seokjin, which means they wouldn’t play until the final, and Seokjin’s pretty confident Namjoon won’t make it that far, anyway.

Part of him wonders if he’s going to hear back from Yoongi about the deal with Namjoon’s company today. Their board meeting is happening, and they should be making a decision about whether to give Yoongi and Seokjin their business. It would obviously be a huge relief, even if Jungkook is now entitled to a large chunk of the commission. Money doesn’t really matter, because being done with the deal means Namjoon will go back to his own office, and Seokjin will be rid of him. It should be a weight off of his shoulders, and he shrugs off the small voice in his head that doesn’t want to go back to not seeing Namjoon every day.

Well, he thinks sarcastically, maybe he will see Namjoon now that he’s miraculously discovered how to use a webcam. Asshole.

After he eats lunch, he changes into his workout clothes and heads down to the basement. It’s finally his time to shine.

The elevator is crowded, and he has to ignore the looks he gets from workers who get on at other floors. No one looks better than him in a track jacket, anyway, they’re probably just jealous.

Or, that’s what he thinks until he makes it to the basement and sees Namjoon. Dressed in a familiar outfit. Familiar because it looks exactly like Seokjin’s.

The universe is a cruel place.

Once again, his stomach is a muddled mess of horny rage. No one should look that good with a sweatband on. No one that terrible should look that good, period.

He falls into conversation with Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook, who collectively look like they should be on the cover of some high-fashion sports magazine. He’s not sure he’s ever seen so much lycra in one place. Jimin gives him a wry smile when he notices that Seokjin is looking. “Like what you see?” he teases.

“Just surprised you think you can play in that,” he retorts.

“Oh, we can play,” Taehuyng chimes in with a greasy wink. It’s made worse by the fact that he can’t see where Taehyung’s hands are. No doubt attached to Jimin’s body somewhere. They’re disgusting.

“You don’t have to be that gross,” Seokjin whines.

Jungkook shakes his head. “I really think they do.”

Hobi, their official tournament referee, blows an obnoxious whistle, getting everyone’s attention. Well, almost everyone. Out of the corner of his eye, Seokjin sees Namjoon staring at him. He can’t tell what kind of look is on the other man’s face. Probably smug. Which is fine, for now. Seokjin will have fun wiping any smugness right off his pretty face later.

The first match is easy, some guy in IT who looks like he’s never stepped out from behind his computer in his life. Then he beats Jimin in the second round and observes that Namjoon seems to make it easily through his first two rounds, as well.

In the quarterfinals, Seokjin has to fight a little harder to beat Taehyung, usually an easy win made more challenging when he notices Namjoon watching from the other side of the room. If he’s not wrong, it even looks like Namjoon is cheering for him?

Probably another one of his tricks.

Seokjin has to face Jungkook in the semifinals, and on the other side, it’s Namjoon and Yoongi. Yoongi is objectively bad at this, but he’s competitive, and he’s also the boss of most of the people currently in the basement, so no one ever wants to play him. Seems like Namjoon is this year’s sacrificial lamb, on the receiving end of Yoongi’s shouts and cheating accusations when he loses point after point. Good.

Jungkook has learned a lot since he started at the office. He’s gotten better at sales and a hell of a lot better at table tennis. He’s beat Seokjin before, and they both know he can do it again. But sometime in the second match of three, it’s almost like he gives up.

“Yah, put up a fight, will you?”

“I have a cramp, hyung.” Jungkook bends down to rub at his calf dramatically, and if Seokjin is suspicious, he pushes it out of his mind and takes the “cramp” as a gift. He easily beats Jungkook to take the best two of three and make it to the final.

The final against Namjoon.

He takes some time to adjust his wristbands and drink some water before the match starts. Namjoon seems to be keeping his distance, but every time Seokjin looks over at him, he’s looking right back. He looks sad, almost. Finally, with a minute or so left until their match time, Namjoon approaches him.

“Seokjin-ssi… hi.”

Seokjin looks him up and down with his best competitive glare. He absolutely does not let his gaze pause on the muscles in Namjoon’s thighs. “Well, maybe we can settle some things today, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon furrows his brow. “I still don’t think I understand why you’re mad at me.” Then he whispers, “I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Does it really matter?” Seokjin adjusts his own sweatband and rolls his shoulders back. He steps past Namjoon and toward the table before Namjoon can reply. Faintly, Seokjin hears him say something. It sounds an awful lot like, “It matters to me.”

But he won’t let his guard down this time.

Except he does.

The first game goes fine; he cruises to an 11 to 6 victory easily. Something happens in the second game, though. Jungkook is talking to Namjoon between points, and it starts out fine, and then he asks if Namjoon really has to leave the office to go back to his actual job, to which Namjoon replies, “I’ll never leaf you, Jungkook-ah.”

It’s stupid. And it’s hilarious. Plant puns from the seed-man.

Seokjin misses his shot as he tries not to laugh. Namjoon notices that he’s trying to hold in a chuckle, and this causes a triumphant, deeply-dimpled smile to appear on his face.

“You like plant puns, Seokjin-ssi?” he asks as he serves the ball.

“No,” Seokjin lies.

“What did the cactus say to the other cactus?”

“No idea,” he grunts out as he returns a surprisingly good shot from Namjoon.

“You’re looking sharp.” Namjoon delivers the punchline with a killer backhand, and Seokjin misses the ball again.

“I hate you and your stupid jokes,” Seokjin announces. Even if he doesn’t hate them at all. In fact, he’s struggling to hate Namjoon, too. It’s actually the worst.

“But I’m just pollen your leg,” Namjoon riffs.

Seokjin misses another shot as Taehyung and Jimin fall into a pile of laughter on the floor next to the table. Even Yoongi is giving a snort.

“You’re all the worst!” Seokjin shouts as he sets his paddle down. He’s lost the game to Namjoon. 9 to 11. So embarrassing. “Hobi, can we institute a ‘no puns at the table’ rule for the final game?”

“No,” Hobi says, his tone light. “This is way too entertaining.”

“Fine.”

He’s so annoyed, he’s practically shaking. Kim Namjoon with his dumb jokes winning everyone over while Seokjin just suffers. It’s unfair, it’s enraging, it’s… well, it’s actually really cute, too, which just makes him more angry. Why does his nemesis have to be funny and attractive?

What’s apparent, as the third game begins, is that being mad is not helping his game. Neither is having to look at Namjoon’s face across the table. He could swear Namjoon’s mocking him every time he smiles.

How dare he.

Thinking about it just gets Seokjin more worked up, and he misses more shots. Then thinking about missing shots causes him to miss even more shots. He’s barely hanging on until he’s not actually hanging on at all, and shouts from Jungkook announce Namjoon’s victory.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Kim Seokjin is officially a loser.

It doesn’t sink in right away. Not until Namjoon says, with convincing sincerity, “Wow! I can’t believe I won the ping pong tournament…”

“You did it, hyung!” Jungkook is clearly excited. Traitor. “You won ping pong!”

And something in Seokjin snaps.

“It’s called table tennis, you assholes!”

He shouts it, and everyone in the room freezes.

He would be embarrassed if he thought about it, but instead, all he can think about are all the things that have gone wrong for him over the past few weeks, all tied back to Kim Namjoon.

Before anyone can move, he stomps to the elevator and slams his fingers into the buttons repeatedly until the car finally makes it to the basement and the doors slide open. It’s overwhelmingly silent in the room as he leaves—and if Taehyung and Jimin are quiet, he knows he’s probably crossed a line. He just doesn’t care. When he steps onto the elevator, he keeps his back to everyone until the door closes. When he’s finally alone, he slumps against the wall and sighs.

He’s probably going to need to find a new job.

Back in his office, he’s packing some things into his bag, hoping to avoid the rest of them. He figures if he can sneak out in the next few minutes, maybe take the stairs down, he’ll miss them all making their way back up to the office.

Of course, he figures wrong.

The door to his office opens carefully, and he can see a flop of brown hair appear in the crack.

Against his better judgment, he says, “You can come in, Namjoon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No is what he means, though. But he’s tired. It’s exhausting to fight all the time. He doesn’t have it in him anymore, he’s pretty sure.

Namjoon slips into the office and pulls the door closed, leaning back against it. “Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk if you want.” Seokjin crosses his arms and waits.

“The board approved the deal today,” Namjoon says. He looks happy. His eyes are bright and hopeful. “I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

To rub it in, no doubt. Namjoon is such a jerk.

“Congratulations to you and Jungkook, then.” It comes out pretty harsh, but he figures it won’t really matter anyway.

“Huh?”

“Your pitch, it worked. Congrats.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I think you’ve got some things wrong, Seokjin-ssi.”

At that, Seokjin huffs. “I’ve got some things wrong? Me?” He steps closer to Namjoon. “I think you’ve got some things wrong thinking you can some in here and lie about not knowing how to use a webcam,” he sticks a crooked finger out and points at Namjoon’s chest, “and fill my office with plants to drive me out and almost kill me with garlic and purposely make me late to that pitch meeting and think you can get away with it because you’re funny and smart and hot!”

Seokjin is practically in his face now, but instead of backing down, Namjoon grabs his finger. “You think I’m funny and smart and hot?”

“Not the point!”

“You want to know why I lied about video calls?”

“No.”

“Because I looked you up on Naver and saw your picture when we first started emailing. Because I couldn’t even talk to you on the phone without blushing. Because you are the most attractive person I’ve ever seen and I was nervous, hyung. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together if I had to look at you while we talked.” Namjoon gives Seokjin’s finger a squeeze. “I know it’s not appropriate, and I’m your client… So I never said anything.”

Seokjin squeaks. Honest to god squeaks. It’s such a far departure from what he expected Namjoon to say, he doesn’t even have a good response.

“And as for the garlic, I think we’ve already covered that. And the meeting? Hyung, I tried to wake you up when I left, but you yelled at me to stop being ungrateful and then you rolled over and started snoring.”

“I don’t snore,” Seokjin says weakly.

“Okay, sure.” Namjoon gives him an affectionate smile. “I thought you must have had your alarm set. I didn’t know that you didn’t.”

“Oh…”

“And the pitch we sent the board was yours.”

Seokjin finally snaps to attention at that. “What?”

“It was the best one. I watched them with Yoongi and told him to send yours. So you got the deal done, hyung. It was all you.”

“You really did that?”

Namjoon nods. This is all… a lot to process.

Maybe Seokjin was… not exactly right about Namjoon’s intentions.

“And you think I’m the most attractive person you’ve ever seen?”

The almost giggle Namjoon lets out is the cutest thing Seokjin has ever seen, so maybe they’re even. “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re the worst,” Seokjin says, but this time, he’s smiling, too.

“Mmhmm. I’m the worst, but I’m technically officially your client, so you have to be nice to me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.”

And it occurs to Seokjin that instead of wiping the smug grin off Namjoon’s face, he wants to kiss it off. So with very little consideration to what that might mean for his career, he leans in to do just that.

Except Namjoon beats him to it.

And thank god, he is way better at kissing than he is at sales pitches. He’s careful with Seokjin, lips moving cautiously. It’s sweet and soft and Seokjin hears himself sigh into the kiss as it deepens, as Namjoon drops Seokjin’s finger, and moves to hold his jaw instead. He takes the lead, tilting Seokjin’s head just so to deepen the kiss, and then smiling when he pulls away to catch his breath and sees Seokjin chasing his lips.

“Was that nice enough?” Seokjin teases when he finally gets a hold of the thoughts spinning around his head.

“Mmhmm… Very nice. Wanted to kiss you since the first time we met…” Namjoon barely finishes his dreamy, murmured response before he’s pulling Seokjin back in, connecting their lips again. It’s possible that Seokjin has wanted this more than he’d been admitting to himself, because he’s almost sure he’s too eager, licking along Namjoon’s plush and perfect bottom lip in hopes he’ll find space to change the kiss from sweet to heated. It’s probably only been seconds, but he’s already impatient, wanting more, more, more.

They kiss and kiss and kiss with Namjoon pressed up against the office door… The office door. Seokjin pulls away abruptly. “We shouldn’t do this.”

Namjoon looks like almost every possible emotion passes over his breathless face as he registers what Seokjin’s just said. He lands on something like disappointment. “Oh… I must have…”

“No, no! You didn’t. But…” Seokjin leans over to his side to peer out of the glass, “We shouldn’t do this here. Everyone will be back any minute.”

A strong arm wraps around his waist, and he’s tugged into Namjoon’s chest before he knows what’s happening. (And he was right, for what it’s worth. It’s very comfy, even though it’s shaking with Namjoon’s gentle laughter).

“What’s funny? I’m going to get fired,” Seokjin whispers into Namjoon’s shirt.

“I think if you were going to get fired, it would have been when you called everyone in the office ‘assholes’,” Namjoon says gently.

“Hmm… Points are being made.”

“Plus, Yoongi sent everyone home.”

Seokjin looks up. “He did?”

“Yeah… He thought it might be best after… You know.”

“Me.”

“More or less,” Namjoon agrees.

Seokjin groans into Namjoon’s collarbones. “That was embarrassing,” he whines.

Namjoon hooks a finger under his chin and tilts his head up. He’s giving Seokjin a completely enamored smile, and Seokjin’s almost sure he’s been on the receiving end of that look before, but he’s just now recognizing it for what it is. “I thought it was cute,” Namjoon whispers.

“Cute? Hah! You’re a liar, Kim Namjoon.”

“I’m not,” Namjoon says, still grinning when he leans down to place another delicate kiss on Seokjin’s lips.

“I don’t deserve this…”

“No, you really don’t,” Namjoon readily agrees. “You’re lucky I like you a little mean.”

“Oh?” Seokjin feels his ears turn red at the insinuation.

Namjoon kisses him again and then nods. “I just really like you, hyung. You’re passionate, funny, and really good at table tennis.” He’s smiling now, teasing a little, but it feels really nice to hear someone say those things, especially someone who seems like he really means them.

“Of course you do,” Seokjin teases. It’s one of his nervous tics, joking to take the pressure off, to turn the attention to something else. But when he does it this time, he realizes he doesn’t want to brush this off or make a joke out of it. “I really like you too, Namjoon-ah.”

“Good.” And Namjoon’s breath is warm against the shell of his ear when the word is whispered into his skin. It makes Seokjin’s whole body tingle. It’s not helping that Namjoon’s hands are wandering, fingertips pressing into his waist, sliding along the bottom of his shirt. “Is this okay?” he asks.

Seokjin nods, and he’s immediately manhandled so that he’s the one backed up into the door, Namjoon looking him up and down, then leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses up over his jaw and down his neck.

“So pretty, hyung,” he whispers between kisses. “Want to see more of you.” Namjoon slips his hands beneath his jacket, playing at the sensitive skin above his waistband.

“Here?” Seokjin is a little breathless, a little surprised. The Kim Seokjin who likes to be the best (and who works very hard every day to make sure that’s always the case) would never do this in the office, never take the risk… “Yeah, okay,” he agrees.

Maybe it’s time to be a new version of himself.

He’s quickly shed of his jacket and shirt by Namjoon, who whispers praises into the skin of his collarbones and chest. He’s getting hard with little assistance, and normally it would be somewhat embarrassing, but worse things have happened in the last hour—he might as well lean into it. So, when Namjoon asks if it’s okay to touch, he nods immediately and is rewarded with a single, teasing finger dragged over his shorts along his length and sending a shudder down his spine.

His head falls forward onto Namjoon’s shoulder as the other man softly bites and kisses across his skin. At this point, he’s prickly with anticipation and getting painfully hard, but when he looks up, all he sees is…

“Ponyo,” he says quietly.

Namjoon lifts his head from Seokjin’s pulse point, where his lips have started to become a semi-permanent fixture. His eyes are dark, cheeks flushed, and his lips are kiss-swollen when he answers, “You want to talk about my fish right now?”

Seokjin points to where she sits on the desk. “She’s watching…”

“She’s a fish.”

He can’t tell if Namjoon is endeared or exasperated.

“Both,” Namjoon says.

“I said that out loud?”

“You say a lot of things, hyung.”

That earns him a slap on the shoulder. “Can we turn her around?” Seokjin asks.

Namjoon lets out a deep laugh and smiles fondly. “You know she could just swim in any direction, right? It wouldn’t matter.”

“I would feel better.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow and mumbles, “Can’t believe I still want to suck you off after all this.” At least he’s still smiling.

“Fair,” Seokjin replies as Namjoon goes to move the fishtank. “Me either if we’re being honest.”

With Ponyo’s innocence maintained, Namjoon comes back to a shirtless Seokjin and resumes landing soft kisses across Seokjin’s jaw. It’s so nice, and Seokjin really can’t believe that this is happening—he meant it when he said he didn’t deserve this, but he’s so glad it’s finally real. The moan he lets out when Namjoon drops to his knees probably says enough, but he wants to make sure it’s really clear. “This is like a dream,” he says.

Namjoon looks up at him from where he’s untying the knot holding up Seokjin’s shorts. “Hmm… You have interesting dreams.”

“They’re usually not this good,” Seokjin says, his eyes falling closed as Namjoon slides his shorts and briefs down.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Stop talking.” Namjoon emphasizes his words by finally taking Seokjin’s cock in his hand, squeezing a little too carefully before licking along the shaft.

“Okay, I’m stopping,” he agrees, voice pitched higher as Namjoon wraps his lips around his cock. He can feel when Namjoon chokes back a laugh. “For real now,” he adds on in a whisper.

And he keeps his promise. It would be hard to formulate words even if he wanted to with the way Namjoon is working him over with his tongue and lips. His cheeks are hollowed as he takes Seokjin deeper, eyes watering, and he looks devastatingly good like this. If he didn’t want to see how far this could go, he’d be worried that the next thing Namjoon chokes on won’t be laughter.

When Namjoon reaches to squeeze his balls, Seokjin groans and his head thuds against the door behind him. It’s so overwhelming. Moreso when he brings himself to open his eyes and looks down to see Namjoon’s lips spread wide around his cock and one of his hands down his shorts stroking himself.

“You like this, Namjoon-ah? Like it so much you’re touching yourself for hyung?”

Namjoon just moans around him in response before he pushes further down Seokjin’s cock and swallows around the head.

“I’m close…” Seokjin whispers, and there’s no hesitance—he’s met with more encouraging hums as Namjoon moves faster.

He tries to reach down to pull Namjoon off of him before he comes, sure that it’s too much for a first time, but Namjoon just squeezes his thigh and then holds Seokjin in place, not letting him pull back.

When he comes, he thinks his legs might give out, it’s the best orgasm he’s had in ages—the only one he’s had with someone else in longer than he’d like to admit—but Namjoon keeps a steadying hand on his leg and holds him tight while he swallows and slowly pulls off, licking Seokjin clean.

“Okay, hyung?” he says, voice a little gravelly. It’s incredibly sexy, makes Seokjin wonder what he sounds like in the morning, wonder what he’d sound like when someone was taking him apart instead of the other way around.

“So good, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon stands and lets Seokjin pull him in for another long kiss. He tastes like Seokjin and it’s one more thing added to the list of surprisingly hot experiences that have happened to him today. They hold each other for what feels like an hour, but really can’t be more than a few seconds before Namjoon pulls away and looks down between them. “I should.. Uh…”

“Can I help?” Seokjin asks.

“Oh, uh… No, thank you. This is… Well, it’s my turn to be embarrassed, I guess.”

When Seokjin looks down, he sees a dark patch on the front of Namjoon’s shorts. “Oh, you really did like that?”

Namjoon’s cheeks turn even more pink. “Stop, hyung… I swear this isn’t a thing that happens to me usually.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to be reassuring. “It’s fine, Namjoon-ah, I think it’s kinda hot.”

“Now who’s the liar?” They both laugh into each other's shoulders until Seokjin shivers. “Cold?” Namjoon asks.

Seokjin nods, and Namjoon grabs his clothes for him from their pile on the office floor. Since Namjoon needs to get out of his dirty shorts, he puts his suit back on while Seokjin gets dressed. They look like quite the pair with Seokjin in a tracksuit and Namjoon in an actual suit—it’s even more of a relief that Yoongi sent everyone home, now.

The longer they’re quiet, the more he worries that things between them are going to be awkward. They probably should be given what just happened.

“So, uh…” Namjoon looks as nervous as Seokjin feels. “We did that.”

“We did. Yep. And you’re still my client, so…” He really hopes Namjoon isn’t about to tell him that this was a mistake, something they should pretend never happened.

“So, I think you should give my account to Jungkook. If you want.”

“Okay… That can be arranged.” It’s hard to control the grin that’s blooming on his face. “What do you want, Namjoon-ah?”

Namjoon smiles and grabs both of their bags, handing Seokjin’s to him. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

***

They do go out to dinner, and after, Namjoon comes over. Seokjin gets to confirm that the sounds Namjoon makes when he’s at someone else’s mercy are just about as perfect as any he’s ever heard. In the morning, Namjoon wakes him up carefully with warm kisses even though now that the project is done, he can go back to working from home or his actual office, and Seokjin is the one who actually has to get out of bed.

After a shower and breakfast, Namjoon rides the subway with him to his office, holding his hand the whole way. They barely let go when they enter the building, just in time for Hobi not to catch them. He thinks, anyway.

“Ah, Jinnie! And Namjoon! Good morning.”

“Hi, Hobi,” they say in unison.

“The usual?” he asks.

They nod in unison, and then Namjoon whispers, “Hyung, I’ve never told him my “usual,” but I can’t tell him no. He just makes me something different every time.”

“Oh, same for me,” Seokjin agrees. “That’s what he does to everyone.”

“How does he stay in business?” Namjoon asks, wide-eyed.

“Never underestimate the power of a smile,” Hobi chimes in as he sets their drinks on the counter.

“Or the fact that he’s the closest coffee shop for the hundreds of people in the building,” Seokjin counters.

When they get to the elevator bank, Seokjin knows it’s time to say goodbye, at least for the day. They’ve already made plans to meet after work to play table tennis together—Namjoon says that couples who have hobbies together are happier. Seokjin’s just happy that Namjoon wants to be in a couple after everything that happened, so he promises to be on his best behavior during any competitive scenarios. He’ll try, at least.

While they wait for the next elevator, clearly dragging out their temporary good-bye for as long as possible, Seokjin says, “I had an idea.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Maybe next year’s tournament could be doubles.”

Even though Namjoon won’t be working from their office, won’t have the opportunity to beat him next year, nothing really sounds better to Seokjin than to win with Namjoon by his side, as dumb as it sounds when he’s tried to say it out loud. Fortunately, Namjoon doesn’t make him.

“Sure, that’s a good idea, hyung. Who’s gonna be your partner?”

“Well, even though you won’t really be around the office much, I was thinking you would.”

Namjoon just gives him that same bright, dimpled grin as he did the first time they met. “Of course I will. We’ll be unbeatable.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, returning his smile. “I think we will.”

#seokjin fic #namjoon fic #catch of the century #btswritingcafe #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x seokjin #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

prerelationship 6, general 3, love 5 and 13? :3

dont not perceive me-

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

neuvi would simply deny it, not because he's embarrassed but in the moment he literally doesn't think it would be possible for him to have a soulmate. This leads to another internal debate about the meaning of his existence like: He is a dragon so if he did have a soulmate to would have to be another dragon right? but there are very few dragons left in teyvat so statistically he would not have a soulmate. but also he WAS born in human form so he's not quite a dragon but not quiet human either so would that mean if he were to have a soulmate it would be more likely for them to be human? he thinks about this for the next 3 days and comes to the conclusion that "i am the chief justice of fontaine and have to remain impartial, but would consider timekeeper silvanus to be 'small and cute'" silvanus simply says 'impossible. i dont have time for that' and immediately starts ranting about all the things that need to be done today

3. What was their first kiss like?

oh my god. oh my od you cant do this to me im gonna die ive had two ideas abt this that are both equally as embarrassing the first idea being one of the many times neuvi is there to look after silvanus after she gets sick and during these visits they both start getting hit by their subconscious feelings, trying so hard to shove those thoughts back down while acting Normal. but it makes them both so fucking nervously awkward but one too many fleeting touches breaks them both down and theyre staring at each other like panicked creatures unable to break eye contact until silvie goes 'fuck it' and goes for it without realizing she just grabbed her wet and pathetic looking boss by his face and kissed him LMAO the second idea one follows the first one but instead of silvie kissing him in that moment theyre both like 'oh i like you and you also like me' and they talk abt their confused thoughts and feelings and neuvi decides he needs some time to understand his own emotions now knowing that silvanus also thinking of him this way but also if pursuing any of this would hinder his duties or silvanus' job so for the last week or two of silvanus' recovery he doesnt show up but the day before she's supposed to return to work her, he sends a note saying to meet him outside of the city and shes like 'ah man he wants to meet me where no one can see and turn me down' but SIKE he spent most of the time away reading books on human courtship and its a fucking DATE. he brought her out to a secluded area with pretty flowers and woodland creatures because he knows she likes gardening and cute animals and nervously kisses her there i have the funniest mental image of him being like 'i spent time reading about proper courtship and was recommended literature insightful literature about physical intimacy since i have little experience on that matter' and silvanus is like 'oh my god did the hydro archon recommend smutty literature to him??'

5. Who initiates kisses?

they had a strict 'no PDA' rule (that silvanus broke during the last part of the archon quest lmao) but silvanus probably, tho neuvi initiates physical affection more often. i imagine he can get very affectionate if given the chance to fumble awkwardly until it becomes more natural to him

13. Who remembers the little things?

i think both of them are intuitive in picking up seemingly small things about each other. after they get together, neuvillette is very aware of any possible trigger that could cause silvanus' illness to flare up (he will NOT have a repeat of the Last Incident). he is instinctively aware when sivlie hasn't eaten or more tired than usual and has like a 6th sense when silvanus tries to sneak in an extra cup of coffee or lie about not resting properly. while silvanus is able to read neuvillette's emotional state fairly well even though his behavior and body language stays relatively the same (to most people)

#wow this was so long im so sorry do not perceive me im gonna crawl into a hole #oc: silvanus avenir #wetrabbit

[twosroos]

All Grown Up [Chapter Six]

roos says ! I promise u, we are getting closer to the fun parts. I also am not sorry for the person I become when there's mutual pining. also this gif is so fricken perfect I had to use it-- thank u op.

desc: It's getting harder and harder to keep yourself in check. And maybe alcohol makes it worse, or maybe it's the fact that Bob is just so sweet.

fluff, with a bit of angst in the middle

notable characters: robert "bob" floyd

TWs: alcohol/drinking, mentions of injury, allusions to fantasized death.

ao3 link ! last chapter ! next chapter

"You're not supposed to be home until noon," You spit out through a shaking breath and a shaky laugh. Bob gives you a half smile.

"Uh, I was gonna surprise you at work." He admits, still keeping his arms wrapped around you. You find that it takes everything in you not to gawk at him.

"Why?"

"It was gonna be a tremendous surprise?" He tries, and you snort, bringing a hand to your face to wipe it as you sink further into his touch. If you could, you would burrow into him to hide away from your embarrassment.

"Are we going to keep ending up like this, hugging and crying?" Bob asks after a moment, and you physically cannot stop the smile that breaks your stoic face.

"Seems so, my knight in shining..." You look at his outfit, "Blue jeans?"

Now it's Bob's turn to laugh, leaning forward to tuck his head by your shoulder, and you sniffle as a grin graces your features. Beside you, Shannon stands back up and puts her hands on her hips.

'Well," she starts, "I've gotta head back so I'll be on time for work today. You both stay safe, alright? Y/n, your boss said it's okay if you go home today."

"Oh, okay," You turn so you can see Shannon as she grabs her car keys, "Thanks for coming out, Shan."

"Of course. I'll see you in July, Y/n." Shannon grins as she starts towards the door, "see you later, Bob!"

"It was nice to meet you, Shannon!" He calls as she ducks out the door with a wave of her hand, leaving you and Bob sitting on the floor in your office. You both sit still for a while before you get a random idea.

"Wanna swim?"

Both of you end up in your pool, Bob lazing in the cool water as the sun beats down in South Carolina. Sunscreen creates a visibly oily sheen across the surface of the water that ripples in the sunlight. While Bob has already sunken into the pool, a sunscreen half washed off his skin while you're only just making it outside. You adjust your sunglasses as you waltz out with one of the newest bikinis you own on your body. It's modest, high-waisted with a thick bandeau top, but it hugs you in all the perfect spots. Though you mostly wear it because it's comfortable, and if you end up tanning, you hope it will fix the slight farmer tan you're noticing on your arms. A case of unopened beer cans that Bob had grabbed on the way to your home sits in the shadow of the pool umbrella, and you bend down to pick it up while Bob turns to look at you. You feel his gaze heavy on you, so you glance over your sunglasses to see his lips slightly gaped as his eyes stare at something below yours. With a snort, you crack open a beer and hand it to him while you grab another from the pack as you step onto the steps leading into your pool.

"You'll catch flies with your lips parted like that, Robby." You tease, sitting in the sun on the step next to him. He brings his beer to his lips, watching as you crack open yours and take a sip.

"I..." The words die in his throat, making you laugh as you give him a tilted head grin.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" He exclaims, eyes widening more, if it was possible, "I just... never really see you in much other than blue jeans and a shirt."

You laugh, "Did you forget I have a feminine figure, Rob?"

"I..." He contemplated what he was planning to say for a few seconds before speaking a bit softer, "I guess it's just been a long time since I've seen it."

"Am I getting you bothered?" You say before realizing you should probably censor yourself, considering your mom is in the kitchen making dinner. He scoffs instead, taking another long sip of his drink. You do the same. Once finished, you set your can down and slide until you're off the steps and into the water. The sun's warmed your pool to the perfect temperature, so you dip under the water when your face feels hot, hoping to cool it off. You assume it's from the sun, or maybe you're more of a lightweight than you remember.

When you come up for air, you drag your hands through your hair and float to the wall beside Bob in the shade. Coming to relax with your arms on the wall, you smile at him and lift one hand to absentmindedly run your hand along his scar.

"Are you trying to?" He questions and you blink up at him, watching as he adjusts his glasses so they don't slide off his nose from the inelegant position he cranes his neck down into.

"Not really." You concede, dropping your hand to rest on the concrete by your head again, "I'm just still so astonished little quiet Robby turned into a Naval Aviator who shoots guns and drops bombs and... I don't know. I guess I always knew you had a fire in you, but I never really saw it."

"It's a lot." Bob states, sinking into the water so he can rest his head back on the wall, "I almost dropped out of training five or six times from start to graduation. I'm glad I stuck it through though, I've gotten to meet and work with so many amazing, awe-inspiring people from it."

Your eyes drag to the scar on his shoulder again, then up to the one by his jaw, "Is it worth it? The scars and the terror?"

"Kind of, it always feels good to pull off a mission." He says and you hum, finishing off one can of beer easier than you intend to. The two of you sit in silence for a long time, the soft chirp of the chicks in the far-off coop and the muted sound of your mother's 80s music through one of the upstairs windows being your only company. The alcohol hits you slowly, enough to buzz your thoughts, and you think to yourself: what if there was a day, like in movies, where the officers in their stark uniforms showed up at your door? What if you had to host a funeral for your childhood best friend? Your eyes burn into his scar as you imagine him never coming home from that mission. And you realize it genuinely scares you; it strikes something in your heart that cries, so you find yourself sitting up with drunk discretions.

"Can you make me a stupid promise?"

"Depends on how stupid it is." He chides, and you roll your eyes as he sits up so you both can be face to face without having to be at any more awkward angles.

"Can you promise me you'll always come home? Robby, I just got you back, for real, and I don't know if I'm willing to lose you again." You whisper, "We've clicked back together like puzzle pieces, and I don't know what I'd do with myself if you... well, y'know."

Bob's quiet for a while, his eyes scanning you before his hands are lifted from the water to pull you close. You gratefully accept the hug, burying your face in his skin, soaking in the warmth that tells you he's living. 

"I'll always come home to you." He says after giving you a silent moment to soak in the hug, "I always will."

"Please try not to break this one. Tell Phoenix too." You grumble and he laughs, letting one arm drop to grab his beer as your turn, curling against his side. You slot there so naturally just like you always had as a teen.

"I'm sure she'd agree with you." He tilts his head to the side and your noses bump, you blink and feel the heat from before returning to your cheeks as your face flushes bright red. You can see it on his skin too, and you swallow. His eyes flick from your lips to your eyes, then back down, and you find yourself leaning in a bit closer. You can feel his breath on your skin and you let a sly grin slip its way onto your face, watching his cheeks grow redder. You slide a hand up his arm to his shoulder, resting it there as his eyelids flutter at you and his teeth scrape his lip. There's some sort of unspoken conversation in your eyes, permission being asked, and you dip forward to connect. But it never happens.

"Y/n! Rob! Dinner!" Your mom calls from the window, and you both sharply pull apart. There's a beat where you maintain eye contact before he turns, and you stand to follow him out of the pool. Once you start to dry yourself off, you make your way over to the patio, where your mom has set up a nice spread of food to eat. When you look back at Bob, you see him wave as his Mom and Step-Dad walk over from where they'd parked their car, and you sigh, turning back towards your mother as she gives you an all-knowing smile. You pout at her and take your place on the couch, ready to stuff your face full.

--

You don't see Bob the next morning, considering Molly forced him to have a 'tea party sleepover' or something with her. After dinner. It's fine with you because you desperately need sleep and you know if you spend any more time around Bob without a chance to clear your mind you'll be doing other things than sleeping.

You end up spending less time teaching on Thursday than you mean to and when you get home, no one is around, so you take the free time you have before dinner to practice. Fuego is practically bursting out of her pen by the time you get there to let her out and bring her into the small section where you usually bathe and tack her. Immediately, find it hard to tack her up without her getting impatient or trying to run off to go run somewhere on her own, and even if you do find it funny, it's also super fricken annoying. You lead her to the section you'd made for practicing and mount. The second you get on her saddle, one you'd customized after realizing you wanted to barrel race for real, she's bucking around and flinging her head. It takes a bit of fighting to get her to relax, but if Fuego is anything, she's loyal.

"Alright, girl." You say to her, "You ready to run?"

She starts thrashing out of excitement, but she holds back, waiting for the crack of your reins and the whistle you'll let out. You go to start but hesitate when you hear random voices approaching, but it's not enough to make you stop.

"Fuego!" You shout and then whistle, and she takes off. You round the first barrel with ease, and she runs a little slow to the second, her turn around the third knocks the barrel but doesn't make it fall, and her straightaway run is as perfect as it usually is. Once you get her to calm, knowing her first run is always a bit messy, you bring her through again, this time making sure to feel the path as she runs it. You feel better about the run, and fish a treat out of your pocket as a reward for doing well, when you hear someone wolf whistle. Fuego snorts.

"Bob wasn't lying when he said you were a glass of water." The voice says and you turn your head, hand coming to the brim of your cowboy hat as you adjust it so it actually blocks all the sun from your eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" You ask, looking at the man who leans on the fence, he laughs waving a hand.

"No real flirts here, don't worry." He grins up at you, aviators reflecting the sun a bit as he tilts his head up, "Bradley. Rooster, he's probably called me."

"He has." You say, "You wanna keep bothering my practice, or will you shut up and watch quietly?"

"I'll shut up, Ma'am." He salutes you and you roll your eyes, bringing Fuego back around to where you start Fuego for her runs. You huff, bringing your head down to brush her mane as you take a breath and think of how to adjust your grips or calls for the next run. Fuego stomps and paces a bit, making you grin as you sit back up, pulling her reins to get her to walk to the side so you can restart.

"Fuck it up, Y/n!" You hear Jake call and you shake your head.

"Fuck off, Seresin." You say, but nevertheless, now with an audience, you start the path. And, to be fair, it's probably the best you've run it in a while. It's not perfect by a long shot, but you do pretty well. The team cheers you on, and you bow with extra drama, quickly dismounting from Fuego and bringing her back into the barn. You'll practice more later, but for now, you have quite a few pilots to meet after you untack her. 

You don't know if you're nervous, or really weirdly excited to finally meet them all.

#robert bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #all grown up twosroos

[child-of-of-the-sunshine]

1 year

this is one shot for Ryan and Bailey I came up with yes it rewritten from my The Dutton Twins series

I woke up at 4 am because I was meeting Ryan at the barn for a sunrise ride as I like to call it, I had already told Dad me and Ryan might not be back for a while once we left

Third Person POV

Rip was looking for Ryan until John came down “Boss, Ryan is missing.” Rip said running over to John “No he’s not, he went for a ride with Bailey beside it being their 1st anniversary so don’t expect Ryan or Bailey to be anywhere near work today.” John laughed knowing his daughter too well. “Also Bailey left me a note saying she packed them lunch.” John walked away after that shaking his head

Ryan and Bailey were still riding to where Bailey wanted to go “Bailey how where the hell are we going?” Ryan questioned riding beside her “A special place only me and my brother know.” She smiled looking at him “So how old were you when you found this place?” Ryan asked making small talk “It was before my mom died so like seven, but kinda whenever things went south I would come here by myself. Especially the day she died, every year for the last 21 years.” Bailey said looking over at Ryan “Her death must have hit you hard.” he said with a sad smile “Yeah I was closer to her than my siblings and she would always tell me that one day, I would have kids one day probably before my siblings. God now rambling about kids and you probably don't want any.” Bailey said shaking her head at herself “Actually I love kids and don’t care if we have a kid nine months from now as long as I get to have that with them.” Ryan said smiling at her “We haven’t even had sex yet.” Bailey laughed shaking her head “We have just not since we have been dating.” Ryan said with a shit-eating grin on his face “You want to have sex in front of our horse?” Bailey asked raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend “I mean we can have them look away.” Ryan laughed with a smile

“Well it’s not that, I’m just… how do I put this… I want kids I really do but I guess I’m scared because I didn’t grow up with a mom. I mean seven years yeah, but I don’t know the first thing about it.” I said playing with my saddle

“We can figure it out together.” He said smiling “But let's revisit this topic later.” She smiled, and soon she was running off “Bailey.” Ryan yelled chasing after her, she finally slowed and brought her horse to a stop “Wow.” Ryan said looking around him “I know, when I found out my mom died, I practically ran to my horse, by one of the cowboys stopped me.” She smiled at him “You were going to come here?” He questioned, “Yeah so the next day I came out with Lee.” She said, “You said brother I thought you meant Kayce.” He said, “Nah, Lee’s my best friend.” She said “But enough sad shit. This is supposed to be about us today, not my family.” She said smiling “Have I told who much I love that damn smile?” Ryan questioned moving his horse closer to her “Only a couple hundred times.” She smiled leaning over to kiss him, Ryan pulled back after the kiss “Why did you do that Ry?” She questioned him “Because I would rather be standing.” He smiled starting to get off his horse, he came over and then helped Bailey off hers “You know I can get off my horse Cowboy.” She smiled looking up at him “I know but my mom taught me how a lady should be treated.” He smiled leaning down to kiss her, she hummed into the kiss “She did good.” She whispered against his lip “Maybe we should eat that lunch you packed before we move further.” Ryan laughed  into the kiss “Make the horses look away?” She questioned pulling off the flannel she was wearing “I think last time this happened it was in the damn loft.” he laughed “I think your right.” She laughed pulling away from him, and grabbing her horse rains “Let's tie these two up so we don’t have to worry about them running back to the barn.” She laughed, Ryan grabbed his own horse and they tied up there horses, Ryan grabbed her waist once they were done “Now where were we?” Ryan questioned taking her hat off and setting it on her saddle horn “Think we're about to the part where you lay me down.” She giggled and Ryan did just that, when the couple got back to the ranch the sun had just set “I feel I’m gonna get yelled at tomorrow morning.” Ryan said as they brushed down their horses “I don’t think you will baby.” She smiled, putting her horse away

Taglist: @bellarkeselection @kitty-marie725 @hcwthewestwaswcn

#yellowstone #ryan yellowstone #john dutton #rip wheeler

[myloversgone]

(Wet) Dreams Coming True

Warnings: +18. NSFW. Smut: unprotected sex (you guys know better - this is fiction), P in V, oral sex.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Y/N

Word count: 4,6k ~

A/N: This idea came to my filthy mind the minute I saw the picture above. My first thought was “Oh, so that’s the view when you’re on your knees in front of Jensen…”. And then Men’s Health released this interview, and one of his answers seemed to fit so well to the story I already had in mind that I just couldn’t let it pass. Yeah, I’m a slut who writes about her wet dreams.

A/N 2: Jensen is obviously single in this alternative universe. This is just a product of my dirty imagination, I mean no harm to anyone. 

Also, I haven't posted anything since April (life’s been kicking my ass), so be nice to me if this sucks too much.

Feedback keeps me alive! Hope you enjoy reading!

Y/F/N = your friend’s name

MY MASTERLIST IS HERE

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It was part of your job as a journalist for Men’s Health magazine to interview lots of male celebrities. Most of them were jackasses, if you’re being honest. Some you were even a fan of, before meeting them in "real life" and finding out they were jerks who mistreated people they considered "less" than them. Others would simply harass any woman who came in contact with them, and you’ve found yourself in that position more times than you could count.

So you've learned to not expect much everytime the briefing came and you were informed about who was the "celebrity of the month".

But then, one day, your boss called you into his office to let you know that next the cover would feature none other than Jensen Ackles, and they wanted you to be on set for the photoshoot and the following interview, of course.

Your heart leaped in your chest and all your resolutions came crumbling down. He was your biggest celebrity crush since… well, since forever. And now you were finally gonna meet the guy.

But what if he was just another jerk? What if he mistreated you or harassed you like others did before? 

Well, it sucked to think of this possibility, but you were going to have to do your job anyway, so there was no point in thinking about what could go wrong.

You did your best to hide from your boss the excitement you’ve felt, followed by an immediate fear of being disappointed by someone you were such a fan of, so you just agreed to the task.

It was set that you were supposed to arrive at the building the photoshoot was gonna take place when the photographer was about halfway through it, so you could meet Jensen Ackles, say hi to the crew and start asking him some questions between changes of clothes and hair fixing. That was the protocol; it was how most of the interviews you did worked.

The pictures were being taken on the helipad at the top of a fancy building. When you arrived, the wardrobe people were fixing the lapel of a light blue blazer Jensen was wearing. You saw him from afar, and your first thought was shit, he's even more handsome in real life.

Saying hi to your co-workers, you walked to the tent they had set at one corner of the helipad, where the make-up, hair and wardrobe people were working. 

Phone, paper and pen in hand, you gave a deep breath to calm your nerves and approached Jensen.

"Hi Mr. Ackles, I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you", you said, extending your hand to shake his, "I'll be interviewing you today".

Jensen smiled and took your hand in his. "Hi, Y/N. Nice to meet you too. Please, call me Jensen. Whenever you have questions for me, please, ask away!", he said, his smile widening.

He sounded exactly like he did in every interview of his you had watched. And you'd seen many, not only because you were a fan, but also because you always did that before interviewing someone for the first time, just so you could plan how to carry the conversation.

You felt a weight being lifted off of your chest when you realized he was probably a very chill dude. It was so much better than having some jerk being inappropriate all the fucking time. Also, you were relieved to know you’ve been a fan of a normal guy, and not some abusive jackass.

"Great!", you answered, still a little nervous, but more on the good side of it. "So I'm just gonna watch you guys work for a while and then I'll start the next time you come back, if that's ok with you", you asked, just to make sure it wouldn't make him uncomfortable or something.

"Sure, wherever works best for you. I'm not going anywhere", he reassured, winking at you and making your knees weaken. The guy was hotness impersonated. God, it was going to be hard to look at him without making heart eyes and drooling all the time.

"Okay", you answered, a little pathetically, before pulling a chair to sit and watch, like you said you would.

Apparently, he was a thrill to work with. The crew was mostly men, and you could tell by the way they were laughing and making jokes that it was an easy job for everyone. The hair and makeup professional was a woman, though, a good friend of yours. She came to talk to you while the guys were busy taking pictures and setting the place.

"Oh, my God, Y/N/N, this man is soooo perfect!", she whispered to you, sitting by your side so she could talk without the risk of someone else hearing.

You laughed at her amazement, because yeah, he was perfect. She was 100% right.

"Gosh, yes. Isn't it hard to believe he actually exists?", you asked, covering your mouth to talk while watching Jensen throwing his head back, openly laughing at some joke the photographer came up with. The longer hair he was sporting for his role as Soldier Boy looked so good on him. You tried to not let your mind wander too much as images of you tugging it while he ate you out came to your head.

"Fuck, yeah! You know I never cared much about him, I was much more into the guy who played his brother in that show he used to do - Supernatural, right?", your friend questioned, raising her brow in thought.

"Yes, I know. His name is Jared Padalecki. The actor who played the brother, I mean", she nodded in agreement, "Who knows, maybe someday you'll get to do his hair and makeup too", you encouraged, knowing how nothing was really impossible in this business you were both in. 

"God, I'll probably end up being completely unprofessional and throwing myself at him", she joked, covering her mouth and making you laugh.

Right at that moment, the crew took a break and walked to the tent from where you’ve been waiting. The photographer came first, and Jensen was right behind him.

"Y/F/N, can you make his hair look a little messy? I wanna try and take some pictures using that big fan, you know, make it look like it's windy?", the photographer explained to your friend and she immediately agreed, getting up and asking Jensen to sit on a nearby chair. 

You took the opportunity to place your chair next to his and start the interview.

Things started more like a conversation. You asked the usual questions - about The Boys, the show he was currently promoting, his character and stuff. You already knew the answers to most of those questions, since you’ve watched most of his recent interviews, and you knew he was probably tired of hearing them, but it was your job to ask them anyway.

It was when he was telling you the story about how he got the role of Soldier Boy, the phone call with Kripke and all of that, that he ended up revealing something you hadn’t seen or read him talking about yet.

“But, you know, as much as I was ‘friends with the boss’”, he air quoted, “I never thought I had a real shot at playing Soldier Boy”.

You tilted your head to the side, curious. “Oh, yeah? And why do you say that?”

“‘Oh, if I told you the shortlist of actors who were being considered for the part, you wouldn’t believe me. They were all movie stars”, Jensen explained, shaking his head and scratching his beard unconsciously.

“Really?”, you asked, “Can’t you tell me just a couple of names?”, you pressured, trying to get this exclusive information out of him without being annoying.

“Nah, we’d both be blacklisted forever!”, Jensen stated, laughing. 

“Oh, come on! That’s just you being modest”, you tried again, now feeling less nervous, since you could tell he wasn’t bothered with your pressure.

“I really can’t, but let me promise you something”, he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward to get closer to you “If we ever meet in private, I'll whisper in your ear”, the man said, doing just that. You felt your cheeks burn and the little hairs on your neck standing up with the feel of his hot breath against your skin. The son of a bitch knew what he was doing.

You looked at your friend, who was standing behind Jensen, finishing his hair like the photographer had asked. She’d been listening to the interview, obviously, and she widened her eyes at you, using one free hand to fan her face. It only made you blush more, even though you didn’t think it was possible.

After that, you got to ask one more question before Jensen’s hair was done. Despite being nervous in front of that handsome man you’ve admired since forever, you couldn’t help but feel like he was being more “friendly” than normal. From what you already knew, he was a super nice guy, but you thought he was taking “nice” to the next level with you. 

However, you shook that thought out of your head quickly. This was probably just wishful thinking from your part. There was really no reason for a guy like Jensen Ackles to take any interest in someone like you.

During one of the longest pauses, you asked him three more questions. Jensen made you laugh with silly little jokes while responding to each one of your questions with interest and professionalism. It was really everything you could ask of a celebrity. He made your work easy.

Your friend had been walking up and down the set, making sure Jensen’s hair and makeup was ok and,  when she was done, she sat by your side, elbowing you lightly as both of you watched Jensen walking to the middle of the helipad, placing one hand in his pocket and making a show of taking off his sunglasses. The cameras loved him, and he made the task of posing for them look effortless while managing to not look too cocky or full of himself . 

“Tell me, Y/N, is Jensen married?”, your friend asked, eyes glued to him just like yours.

“No, he’s not. Why?”, you questioned back, looking at her for a second before turning your head back to sex-on-legs.

“Oh, my God, because he’s totally into you!”, she exclaimed, doing her best to be discreet but failing miserably.

This time, you looked at her like she was losing her mind. “Oh, my God, Y/F/N, you’re crazy. He’s not, he’s being nice to everyone”, you shook your head, trying hard to not be fooled by her words, but feeling your heart skip several beats with the possibility.

“Yes, he’s being very nice to everyone, but he’s not eyeing up people like he’s doing to you! Every time you guys chat, he keeps biting and licking those ridiculously sexy lips of his. And the way he looks at you when you’re speaking, boring those deep, sparkly green eyes into your soul? Oh, and early he basically suggested you guys meet in private! Jesus, Y/N, just pay attention when he comes back, you’ll see what I’m talking about”, she finished, impatient with the way you kept shaking your head in denial while she spoke.

Like you explained to Jensen earlier, once they were done with the pictures, you would stay behind for a little longer to finish the interview. Knowing that, Jensen came to the tent as soon as the photographer went through the pictures and announced they had the material they needed. 

The last look they chose for him was a black coat with pockets on the chest, the same color as the dress pants he was wearing, and a white oversized t-shirt. He looked like some male model, straight out of a fashion show.

Clapping and rubbing his palms together excitedly, the actor came straight to you. “So, what else have you got for me, sweetheart?”.

Your heart melted with the endearment. He called the whole crew by their names from the beginning, which by itself was a sign of how nice and attentive he was. He must’ve been super tired by then. It wasn’t easy to spend almost an entire day walking back and forth, changing clothes a million times and posing for the cameras, afterall. Still, Jensen never stopped smiling and being polite to everyone. And, apparently, he still had some of his charisma to spend with you.

Even though you wanted badly to believe your friend’s words, he was just being nice to you too, of course. He called you sweetheart because you were the one he ended up chatting with for longer, for obvious reasons, so maybe he felt closer to you. You guys hit it off, but that was it.

He sat in front of you and ran his hands through that perfect hair of his, and you kind of lost track of what you’ve been meaning to ask. He was so beautiful, it was very distracting.

“Y/N? Everything OK?”, he asked, furrowing his brows for a second and effectively waking you from your beauty induced trance.

You felt your cheeks burn once more.

“Oh, s-sorry! I was- I was just wondering if you have time for a few questions about Supernatural and The Winchesters. It wasn’t in the script they gave you, I know, but I’m a huge fan and I think I could write a piece for the website and-”

Leaning forward, he placed his warm hand on top of yours, as a way to make you stop your nervous rambling. 

“Of course I have time for you. I didn’t know you were a fan! You should’ve told me!”, he smiled and kept his hand on yours. “Ask whatever you want, darling”. 

You didn’t know what was more distracting: his beauty, the fact that he said he had time for you, or how his Texan drawl was accentuated when he said the word “darling”.

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you smiled and started asking questions. While the rest of the crew was packing things up, you sat with Jensen and talked. It was already getting dark when everyone was done with their stuff, so your friend came over to say goodbye and tell you they were heading out.

“Oh!”, you checked your watch as soon as she turned to leave. You didn’t realize it was so late. “Sorry, Jensen, I ended up holding you back for longer than I thought I would”, you started apologizing, getting up from your chair and grabbing your stuff.

“No, it’s OK, I don’t have anything on my schedule. Actually, uh-”, he scratched the nape of his neck, averting your eyes for a second, “There’s a nice bar downstairs. Can I buy you a drink?”. 

You stopped dead on your tracks, surprised from both his invitation and the blush that rose on his cheeks. It was crazy to think a man like Jensen Ackles could be shy about asking a woman out. But that was what was happening, apparently.

“S-sure”. How could you say no? First of all, he has been your celebrity crush since forever. Second, you just had the opportunity to talk to him for longer than most people, and it was a delight. He was funny, attentive and smart. You could tell he really cared about giving interesting answers and you wished people had at least half of the respect he showed you. Oh, and he also happened to be the most perfect man you’ve ever seen. Like, physically, everything about him was beautiful. You could be nervous and a little self-conscious, but there’s no way in hell you would pass up the opportunity to spend more time with him.

So you grabbed your purse and followed Jensen to the elevator, straight to the main floor of the building.

When you got to the bar, you both started drinking and the conversation naturally flowed. You talked about anything and everything, from his job to yours, to politics and sports. There was a moment, though, that the fear of not knowing what to talk about hit you. Gladly, Jensen quickly took care of the issue.

“Hey, Y/N, I don’t wanna sound disrespectful, but, uh- I need to tell you this. You’re beautiful, you know that?”, he reached for your hand that was next to your drink, over the counter. “I hope this isn’t unprofessional of me, but I’ve spent the entire day wanting to kiss you”, Jensen stated, watching you from under his lashes, a strand of hair falling on his face and making him even more charming, if that was even possible.

“You- you want to kiss me?”, you whispered, unconsciously moving your body closer to his, slotting your legs between his. By that point, you already had two drinks, and the alcohol was definitely helping you think less and act more. 

“Yeah, I do. Can I?”, Jensen stated, his face inches from yours, his green eyes moving from your eyes to your lips.

You nodded, breathing quickly and slightly tilting your head so you could better reach his lips. 

Jensen placed his hot, soft mouth over yours and kissed you lightly first, but you held the back of his head, pressing him gently against you, signaling you wanted him to deepen the kiss. He got the note and opened his lips to nibble yours, sucking them and producing a groan that formed goosebumps on your skin. 

His kiss mirrored exactly the kind of man he proved to be so far: gentle but intense, sexy but calm, demanding but respectful. You were over the moon. He touched your lips with his tongue and you opened your mouth to let him in, and you felt wetness pooling between your legs. You were just kissing and you were so fucking horny already. 

Luckily, the bar was mostly empty. It was still early and the bartenders let you have some privacy after serving your drinks. So when Jensen pulled you closer between his legs, proceeding to slide his hand from the small of your back to your thigh, your arms circled his broad shoulders and you slid forward on your chair, pushing your chest against his.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy”, he breathed against your mouth, his hand traveling up from your thigh to the side of your breast, squeezing gently. You couldn’t help but press yourself onto his hips, feeling something hard poking your lower belly.

“Says you”, you shot back, head spinning with alcohol and arousal.

He kissed you again, licking inside your mouth and holding your face with his free hand. His palm was big enough to engulf your entire left cheek and your jawline, and noticing that only made you want him more.

“All day, you kept asking me those questions, and smiling at me, and this mouth of yours is so perfect, all I wanted to do was hold you against the wall and make you forget your own name”, he whispered, kissing and nibbling your ear gently, and you closed your eyes, wanting to undress him and let him have his way with you right there.

However, the alcohol in your brain wasn’t enough to make you that careless. You couldn’t stop thinking about how often Jensen did the same things he was doing to you with other women he crossed paths with. Not that his relationships were any of your business, but you kind of wanted to know if that was a one time thing.

“Tell me, Mr. Ackles”, you started, not stopping running your hands over his chest, under his black jacket. “Is that how you treat all of your interviewers?”.

He pulled his head back to look at your face, grimacing. “What? Hell, no. Don’t you think that would be all over the media if I did? Someone was gonna publish it, eventually”, he reasoned, and you knew he was right. Being a journalist yourself, you knew how your colleagues were. Something like that wouldn’t stay hidden for long.

“Besides”, he continued, “not all of my interviewers are as cute as you”, he grinned cheekily, making you laugh.

“You’re funny”, you replied, “and cute too”. You kissed him, an open mouthed kiss, sucking his pillowy lower lip and making him groan again.

Placing your mouth closer to his ear, you decided to do what you’ve been dreaming about since the first time you saw him on TV. 

“I’m gonna go to the restroom. Meet me there in 5”, you whispered sensuously to him, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head before getting up and leaving without looking back.

You entered the small space, assessing the sink and the toilet, and looked at your reflection in the mirror. Tidying your hair, you took a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart.

Gosh, I can’t believe I’m about to do that, you thought, excited and scared. 

What if he doesn’t come after me?

Well, he literally said he wanted to make me forget my own name, so I guess the odds are in my favor, you answered to your own voice in your head.

You exhaled loudly, again assessing your surroundings and your clothes. You were wearing a simple, long sleeved black dress and flats. Nothing special, just what you usually wore when you knew you were gonna have a long day at work. You washed your hands just to kill some time.

The sound of the door opening on your left caught your attention. You were pretty sure it was less than five minutes since you left the bar, and yet, there was Jensen. Looking handsomely excited, he eyed you and smiled, closing the door behind him and locking it.

“So, here I am”, he announced, looking as nervous as you were.

“I can see that”, you replied, biting your lower lip and approaching him, placing your hands on his shoulders and gently turning his body so he was leaning against the sink. Standing on your tiptoes, you held his face between your hands and kissed him, running your tongue inside his mouth, tasting the whiskey he’d been drinking.

He placed both hands on your buttcheeks, pushing you forward and making you feel again how hard he was.

With your lips separated by less than an inch from his, you said “let me help you with that”.

Your eyes were glued to Jensen’s face as you got down on your knees in front of him. His own eyes widened when he noticed what you were about to do.

"Y/N, you don't have to-"

"I know. But I want to", you interrupted, already working on unbuttoning his pants. 

"Jesus, woman", he said through gritted teeth.

You successfully opened his pants to reveal white boxers that were doing a poor job at containing his erection. Just to tease, you kissed his fabric covered cock, making him hiss and throw his head back. You felt on your lips how hard and hot he was. 

Snaking your hands under the waistband of his underwear, you managed to pull them down, revealing a patch of light brown hair framing his thick, red cock.

You took his shaft on your hand and massaged the head, smearing precum all over it. Deep down in your brain, you felt proud for knowing you had the power to make a man like Jensen feel so much desire.

"You're so gorgeous", you complimented before lightly sucking on his head.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're killing me here".

His desperation made you smile, and you stuck your tongue out, tapping his cock on it and then licking the thick vein on the underside. He tasted salty and fresh at the same time.

Your eyes never left his face, and you could see his pupils blowing with each move of your mouth and tongue. 

It was when you swallowed him deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat, making you gag a little, that he took one hand off of the sink, where he’d been holding, and ran it through your hair, moving his hips forward, fucking your mouth.

“Holy shit, Y/N, I’m gonna come”, he breathed through his teeth.

You only nodded, signaling he could go ahead. Seconds later, you felt him thicken and pulse in your mouth, and you swallowed everything he had to give.

Not even in your wildest dreams you thought that could happen in real life. You had interviewed many male celebrities you had crushes on. But to imagine you could give a blowjob to the most handsome man ever, your biggest crush of them all? Pfft. If someone had told you it would happen, you would’ve laughed on the person’s face.

And, yet, there you were, with Jensen Ackles’ cock falling off your mouth in a bar’s restroom. Talk about wet dreams becoming true.

He was panting, pushing his hair out of his face, with his now softened cock still out of his pants when he took your hand and pushed you up, one arm circling your waist while he used his free hand to hold your face and kiss you deep. He didn’t bother waiting for you to clean up the saliva and his cum that were dripping down your chin. He simply kissed you fiercely, licking your mouth and tasting himself on you, a needy sound leaving his throat.

Between kissing your mouth and giving kitten licks to your chin and jaw, he never stopped complimenting you.

“Such a perfect mouth”.

“I knew you would feel amazing”.

“You made me come so hard”.

“You looked so sexy with my cock in your mouth”.

All you could do was moan and squeal with every touch of his hands and mouth. You lost count of how much time you spent making out in that bathroom, and he made sure not even an inch of you remained untouched.

Jensen had pushed his hand under your dress and now his fingers were inside your panties when he felt you smiling in the middle of a kiss. 

“Why you smiling?”, he asked, mirroring your expression.

You shook your head, blushing a little. “It’s just- I’m just surprised by myself, if that makes any sense. I mean, you said you don’t usually hook up with people you work with, and I never do that. Like, ever. And yet, here we are”, you finished, giving him a quick kiss and lifting your leg a little to give him better access.

 “I can understand that”, he said, proceeding to trace your folds with two fingers, collecting your wetness. “Fuck, you’re soaked”.

“Fuck yeah, I am”, you confirmed, pushing your hips forward so his fingers pressed harder against your center.

“Then it’s my turn to take care of you”, he stated, fingers leaving your pussy so he could use both hands to lift you by the waist and sit you on the sink.

He stood between your open legs and you looked down, noticing he was hard again.

“Do we need a condom?”, he asked, already working on pushing your panties to the side, baring you to him.

“No”.

“Good”.

He then slid inside you, hard, hot and so thick you didn't fully understand how you managed to take him. He leaned his forehead on your shoulder, giving himself a moment to regain his composure.

With the first move of his hips, you moaned loud, holding onto his massive shoulders. He chuckled lightly. 

"Goddammit you feel good", he told you, pushing back inside, deeper this time.

"Hey, Y/N, I was wondering", Jensen continued, and you tilted your head to the side, curious with the sudden change in the tone of the conversation, from dirty talk to what seemed to be the start of a serious one. "Are you available tomorrow? 'Cause I definitely wanna do this again".

THE END

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

I don’t have a taglist for Jensen fics yet, so I’m tagging the people in my Dean fics list. If you don’t wanna be tagged in future Jensen fics, please, let me know. If you wanna join my taglist, that’s awesome :D Just shoot me a message! @sexyvixen7​; @candy-coated-misery0731​; @dean-winchester-lover99​; @thoughts-and-funnies​; @avanatural​; @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​; @eevvvaa​; @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes​

#jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x female!reader

[girderednerve]

apologies dear friends i continue to be: a grouchy old man, obsessed with libraries

my new job is fine objectively like there is nothing wrong with it but my boss is very "do storytime, do more storytime, we must schedule storytime," and does not really listen to anything i say, such as 'i would like to do less early literacy programming so that i have some time to do programs for elementary & early middle schoolers,' or 'please schedule me on the youth desk instead of giving me nothing but unstructured office time, leaving me isolated & uninvolved in the day-to-day operations of the library, with which i need to rapidly develop familiarity,' or 'our desk schedule actually should not be rigidly set a month in advance, because we need to be flexible & can work out desk coverage on a department level,' or 'you actually do need to have a clear & specific plan for emergencies, including severe patron issues, & this plan should be communicated to all staff instead of vaguely stashed four folders deep in the shared drive'. (actually when i repeatedly pressed for clarity on who is in charge at any given time she posted an updated chain-of-command document which listed, for some reason, me? as third in line in case of emergency? which is just bugfuck)

it feels very frustrating & i know that many of these problems will resolve themselves as i begin to actually do programs—i haven't been able to because all programming at this library must have at least 2 weeks' advance notice, and i came onboard right after thanksgiving/needed time to get my bearings at least a little—so we can get some cute kid pictures to placate the board & build more of a sense of what is needed. but i still don't really know how to pull reports so i can't weed, i only just got ordering credentials this week & have had to find $2k of books to add to a library collection with which i am largely unfamiliar & for which i have absolutely zero circulation numbers, & nobody has actually given me an up-to-date budget (i am meant to guess, i suppose?). it feels kind of like a slow ongoing disaster; i know this feeling is partially because i have 2 hours' round-trip commute to worry & stew & so on, but i also am just like. girl you are a bad manager. you have persistent staff issues because you are not good at managing people. every meeting you are in is worse because you are in it. you cannot handle interpersonal tensions by having your assistant make friendly 'reminders' to all staff which are obviously about a single person, that never works. i have really strong feelings about management for a person who does not want to be in management! should probably try to walk that one off!

i cornered the adult services/sysadmin librarian today to talk to him about some stub ideas i have for kid programs about 'learning to code,' because we have (apparently) gotten lots of requests for this kind of thing, & basically everything on offer is just buzzwordy bullshit like 'make a bracelet that spells your kid's name in binary using different color beads!' or 'buy this expensive piece of edtech which will be unsupported in six months & anyway only introduces kids to our very closed environment!' or 'just let them spend some time on the computer, so their elastic little brains can pick up digital literacy skills by exposure :)'. so i had some ideas which seemed less like, um, nonsense, but i don't actually know how to code (am stupid) so i wanted to run them past him to get a sense of whether there was any real content there. i want to build a little model transistor & talk about why computers use binary. i want to use a makey makey to have the kids construct a sort of human circuit by holding hands, so we can model a logic gate. i want to write an if-then chart together & roll dice to determine which dance moves we do (cf. a ucla comp sci prof's exercises with her four-year-old). i want to use a makey makey to make a simple morse code transmitter so we can talk about encryption & transmission. i want to make an escape room so we can practice some very basic math & simple decryption (& also persistence!). i want to have tweens play scaled-down capture the flag to think about security. my boss just wants me to do three storytimes a week into infinity

anyway i am still marinating on my computer skills for kids concepts (it's mostly buzzwordy bullshit! even the stuff i want to do is kind of bullshit, lol) & plotting my wind tunnel/paper airplane prototyping program & figuring out when i can schedule my middle grade graphic novel book club. i am trying to figure out how this job might be doable. maybe someday i will want to go to work. america autem delenda est

#irredeemable whining #i ideologically reject thinking this much about work not at work & yet here i am: thinking about work So Hard. losercore #if you have thoughts on digital literacy trends please weigh in i love other people's opinions #even if they are like 'kestrel girderednerve these are literally so stupid' #i am just kind of having this problem where i don't really know what my job is? or how to do it?

[pigeonwhumps]

Letters

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

A selection of the multitude of post from Phoenix to their sister Alicia, stashed under her floorboards. Spans the roughly five year period between Phoenix being kicked out and their first Christmas after meeting Kai.

Inspired by this piece by @whumpsday.

1.1k

CWs: mentions of being disowned, implied abuse, implied/mentioned parental abuse, brief mention of crucifixion

Dear Alicia,

I'm sorry I left you. I didn't want to. You know that, right? You must do.

I'm just writing to tell you that I have somewhere to stay. You don't need to worry about me. I have a roof over my head and food and that's all I really need.

Except you. I miss you.

Stay safe.

Phoenix x

_

Alicia,

Merry Christmas!

It's been a hectic few months. I'm sorry I haven't written to you. I hope you're doing well in everything you want to do well in.

Also, congratulations on your summer camp application! I saw it in the newspaper. Mum and dad aren't too mad right? I don't want you to be kicked out too.

Got to go. I'll write again soon. Hope you like the wolf.

Phoenix x

_

Alicia,

Happy Birthday! I hope you like the stamp! Sorry if you had to pay. I think it's valid but I couldn't not send you a stamp of the time you petted a wolf. I didn't even know they existed until a few months ago!

Anyway. I found the website for that camp you're going on, and they had a list of recommended supplies. I know there's a hardship fund but I don't know if you qualify and mum and dad won't pay more than the bare minimum if you don't so anyway, what I'm saying is, here's some things for your summer. Only small things, I couldn't post anything bigger.

Enjoy! And I hope you have a good birthday! Sorry I can't be there.

Phoenix x

_

Merry Christmas. Immortality sucks. Hope you like the postcard.

_

Alicia,

Hey! Happy birthday! Hope you're still doing well! Here's another wolf!

Phoenix x

_

Merry Christmas!

Heeeey Alicia! I can walk gain! D'you know crucifixion is like flyng? Cept it hurts. It's in the air tho. Not there now. It's warm and fuzzy here. Mmmmm. Miss you. Want you here so I'm not cold and aolne so much.

Here's a wolf. He's a wonky wolf because he's drnuk. Not leki me. Nope.

Oh dear. I'm not sure they meant to write all that. They're drunk. Who gets drunk off eggnog? - E

Sick people who shouldn't be drinking it get drunk off eggnog. My boss is an idiot. And he forgot to tell you they're safe. Just a bad flu and probably a hangover this time. They'll be fine. - B

_

Dear Alicia,

Happy birthday! 16 today! You're getting old. It's making me feel old, my bones are all creaky and sore. I suppose I am an adult now (nearing a year of it now, actually). Is this what adulthood's like? It's weird.

I hope your exams went okay! Or are going okay, if you're not finished yet. Did the good luck wolf help? Here's a birthday one. He says happy birthday, and he hopes that you're having a good day. So do I.

I hope you like the photos on the card. And the book. I saw it at the bookshop and I couldn't not buy it, really. It reminded me of you.

I wish I was with you. You'll have to make do with this virtual cake instead for now I suppose. I hope you have people to share real cake with.

Happy birthday again,

Phoenix x

_

Alicia,

Merry Christmas!

Um, happy new year may be more appropriate. Sorry this is so late. I think I missed the last posting date. Maybe. I'm a bit all over the place, but it feels like it's gone Christmas. They're taking decorations down anyway.

Have a good... whenever it is you get this. Love you lots.

Phoenix x

_

Happy 18th!

Fuck, you're 18. HOW ARE YOU 18 YOU'RE AN ADULT THAT'S NOT RIGHT.

Hope you like the baby photos.

I don't know if you're still in school, or if you have an apprenticeship, or what you're doing next, but I've enclosed some things that might help. I remember you talked about going to uni but that was five years ago. There's gift cards, pens, notebooks, a cookbook (because I'm sure that's meant to be compulsory when you become an adult), I'm sure something will help.

Missing you lots, and I love you,

Phoenix x

_

I know it's not your birthday or Christmas but look what Aaron found in the zoo shop! It's a 3D wolf card! So I had to send it to you and I am not waiting over four months for you to get it!

Anyway. Kai and Aaron took me to the zoo for my birthday and the wolves loved Kai so much! There's photos so you can see just how much. And it was so much fun and the reptiles were so cool! I got to hold a Komodo dragon! There's more photos, Kai and Aaron insisted on taking lots.

Maybe I can see you again when you move out? It's been so long. You'd love Kai.

Missing you lots still.

Phoenix xx

_

Alicia,

Merry Christmas! I hope you're doing well. Whatever you're doing now, I hope it's good and that you're having fun. And if you haven't already, I hope you manage to get away from mum and dad soon.

Here's a little ornament, if you have a tree. Or if you don't you can hang him up anyway. His name's Joe (remember when you called everything variations of Joe?)

Phoenix xx

Hi. This is Aaron, Phoenix's friend. I need to tell you not to worry about the spots of blood. Phoenix cut themself cooking and won't put a plaster on because it'll heal (which is a bullshit reason but hey. This is Phoenix we're talking about). They're not badly injured, they're just incredibly stubborn and don't realise people might worry at the sight of their blood. Have a good Christmas!

- Aaron

So. I knew Phoenix had a sister, hi! But they said they were in contact with you, and we assumed that meant both ways, not letters that you can't reply to because apparently you don't have a means of doing so. They're scared of rejection, I think, and your parents finding out, but... they would really like to talk to you.

So here's the deal. I'll give you my phone number and you can tell me if you'd like to have theirs. Or I can just pass on messages or something, I don't know. I just know that they're missing you desperately and from what they say, you probably miss them too.

You don't have to message me or anything. But if you want to, if you want to talk to your sibling again (yes, I'm aware they're an idiot), please do. Whenever you like.

- Kai (07459 637 829) 🐺 ← Phoenix says you like them

#whump #whump writing #epistolary #immortal cannon fodder #phoenix oc #kai oc #immortal whumpee #hero whump #hero whumpee #electrocus oc #bayou oc #yes electrocus does kidnap phoenix at christmas to make sure they rest and take care of themself bc they have flu what of it? #phoenix whos forgotten abt their last xmas card: haha ill mention having creaky sore bones as a joke alicia wont worry bc its obv a joke #alicia who recieved a card a few months ago that mentioned a fucking crucifixion: is worried #alicia and phoenix have been getting their post redirected to the local post office for years btw. thats how phoenix can send presents #alicia cries so much when she gets phoenixs card about the zoo and the photos #bc theyve always told each other everything and phoenix has stopped doing that so alicia was worried but now theyre doing it again! #alicias so happy #alicia oc #phoenix deserves more happiness #alicia to kai immediately upon getting the last card: #are they ok? they mentioned a crucifixion and there were tears on my 18th bday card and they seem much happier now but are they ok? #anyone want to see their texts actually? brain going brrr #aaron oc #whumpee and caretaker

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

The Path of Life Is Filled with Zany Bards Ch8

Sooo

Yeah, This is kinda short I had to get back in the groove of writing this story hope you enjoy (also i'll probably update Broken but Golden too as a prize for second place)

Masterlist

 Summer had rolled on steadily week by week. Being farther north meant the heat was not so intense as to cause one to suffer, only discomfort. It was mildly frustrating in a way. The heat was enough to be uncomfortable and make one not want to venture outside of a breezy shaded spot, however it was not reasonably hot enough to use as an excuse. You circumnavigated this as best you could by trying to spend any time you needed to outside early in the morning. Which was how you found yourself creeping up the path to the stables in a barely visible morning light.

A blue calm shrouded your surroundings. Mist or fog rather sat still in the high grass of the fields. Insects and creatures starting there day as you did, proclaiming there songs into the silent morning atmosphere. Swift work was made of extracting two horses from their stalls—the grey draft for yourself and the sassy roan that Faye preferred. You tied them out by the posts and diligently set about bounding them in the leather and wool of blanket and saddle, pondering all the while your new found friendship with Faye.

She was one of Addisons daughters who happened to be near your age. You had found her to be incredibly comforting for a stranger. Addison had scolded her on your first meeting—when she had proclaimed rather bluntly that your coco and taupe colored dress made you look like a molded piece of bread. Her father had just stood there aghast for a moment before beginning to berate her, only for your laughter to cut him off. It was nice having someone say what they truly thought to you with no hesitation. Genuine people had been few in and far to come by in the wealthy circles your family danced in.

You had quickly found a repour with Faye and you ended up giving her the dress as a gift in jest. She had even proclaimed she would wear it someday.

“I’ll save it for something special” she had commented as she had held up the garment. “I can’t save it for your wedding since your already married, but perhaps if we ever have a party” You giggled as she folded the dress to be put away

“You can be the prettiest mold in the room” you retorted.

“Damn right!” She had turned to you, a grin, cheeky as could be filled her face.

Lost in your work and mind you failed to notice the girl sneaking up behind you until two hands gabbed at your waist, causing a curt and clipped yell to pass your lips.

“Faye you-“

“Just making sure you’re awake” She innocently replied, sauntering over to the other side of her horse.

“Can’t have my favorite boss falling off and getting mud in her hair or gasp even her clothes, we only have so much soap in the house.” Caught up in her teasing she had failed to notice you had taken a large flake of hay. Waiting for her to finished before throwing it up in the air and coating her in pieces of straw and grass.

“You little!” She didn’t have time to finish the insult as you hopped on your steed and began galloping away from her. Laughter filling the morning sunrise, as you rode off through the field. The sound of hooves thumping behind you became louder as she chased in pursuit. When she finally was neck and neck with you, you laughed even harder. The straw so thoroughly ingrained in her hair that it clung to her still as the wind whipped it about too and fro.

For just a glimmer of a fraction of a moment you weren’t a wealthy countess, or a reluctant wife or a successful trader. You were just a girl, smiling and laughing with a friend in the morning sun. Just this little moment of carefree splendor, it made you think perhaps that it would all be okay. Maybe not today or the next, but someday it would end up being all right.  You could live with that you supposed.

~

“Y/n I don’ know about this, you know me and I don’t really fit in with these sophisticated types.” Faye had whined in your ear as the carriage pushed nearer and nearer your old home. You had been invited for a party to commemorate the summer solstice by your parents, and you had readily accepted it. Your older sister—who you had not seen in some time—would be in attendance with your first niece and her husband in tow. You had never actually met her husband, you had been away for business purposes, going in place of your father since he needed to be in attendance at the wedding.

Excited at the prospect of seeing your family and new niece, but reluctant to face your family alone you had strong armed Faye into attending with you.

“It’s okay Faye, you won’t have to leave my side. Just sit, look stoic and I’ll answer everything for you, it’s honestly what they would expect from you if you were my real maid.” You had come up with  a simple story to sneak Faye in with you. She was your personal maid—hired by Julian to keep you well and happy while he was away.

Julian

Your mind flicked over to his face in your memory. The bright and striking eyes. The way the light of the morning sun had bounced of his hair the morning you’d said your goodbyes. You wondered what he was doing now? Sleeping in to stay up late for his next performance? Playing merrily in a town square for any who would pass by on the way to there errands? Perhaps he was simply walking in the woods on his way to the next adventure.

Yes you could picture that. The gentle sway in his step as he walked through brush and bramble. The freckles of light plunging down from the tress playing every so carefully with his countenance. Plucking out a tune to keep himself company as he went along. With only the forest and it’s inhabitance as his audience.  And perhaps the creatures of the woods would stop a moment just to listen to him.

It occurred to you that Julian hadn’t actually played for you before he left. For all you knew he was dreadful at it. But, it seemed unlikely to you. Julian just seemed the type to have art weaved in his soul.

During all of your reminiscing your face had gone sour. Deep creases framing your furrowed brows as you stared into the seat of the carriage.

“Are you alright? You look like you want to throw up and scream at the same time?” Faye had asked in her blunt as always fashion. It snapped you out of your mind fog.

“I’m okay, just…” You looked out at the scenery, turning back ever so surely to the moss and greenery you grew up around.

“….missing home I suppose”

#jaskier fic #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #jaskier #slow burn

[yunmengtrio]

day 2 of normalblogging. its a long one bc i have many thoughts.

personnel shuffling is happening early at work, as i feared lol. one of the area managers is going on maternity leave in november which means the japanese stuff have to be shuffled around to fill that spot. the way it works is area manager (block leader) > school leader > school chief > staff. the area manager is going on leave, so our current school leader is moving to area manager's school to kind of do her job, while the school chief (my boss) is going to be the school leader and split her time between my school and another school. a staff member from that other school will become the chief of my school. are you following? i wouldn't blame you if not lol. this is really the best case scenario i guess in terms of "change" bc it's not a total and complete staff change, so it perhaps won't feel as bad? idk lol. having my current boss still here in some capacity makes it feel less like the rug has been pulled from under me. i really only stay working here because i like my coworkers/bosses and the general environment, so if it changes for the worse then i won't see much reason to stay. ofc the kids are great but i usually only see them for 40, 45 minutes at a time, meanwhile i spend 8 hours a day with the people i work with, so...

anyway another thing about this whole thing was that we started to have a meeting about it this morning but then students came early and we couldn't talk about it until after the last class finished. i spent the whole day with a massive giant pit in my gut thinking the worst 😬

whatever it'll be ok i guess. i've been expecting this since the area manager announced her pregnancy and the Big Boss (department head) started having chats w my boss. because of the general feeling that something was about to change i've also been considering whether i should quit and move on but i suppose i can hang on another year lol.

ANYWAY in other news!

after work today (after that big ol reshuffle convo) my friend was like, suddenly "hey are you free for a phone call?" and if you're like me with stupid anxiety, you will understand my oh god have i done something reaction so i said yes and when i called her later, she told me that she had plans to travel to taiwan with someone from work but that person couldn't go, but she'd already made a reservation so! she asked me if i wanted to go

i was a little shocked bc this is the last thing i expected and also kind of sudden? lol

we're still kind of working out the dates but it'll probably be mid-november!

so, a nice positive end to the day. i get to go travelling! hooray!

thx for reading goobdye

#.me! #bruh the struggles i had trying to explain the hierarchy of my workplace #it makes sense in japanese ok! #its ブロック長 校長 主任 社員 #everyone's moved up a grade

[ladypurplejanewrynn]

AmeLiet One Shot: The Beauty from the Sea

The man entered the lab. He looked around. Everything looked huge and impressive. The man’s name was Alfred Jones. He just graduated from the best scientific school and was new here. He was so happy about gaining the chance to work among the best scientists. Right now, he was leaning against the wall. He was waiting for the person who was supposed to be his guide and give him a tour of the lab. "Gosh, I’m so excited. I wonder what will be my first assignment. Is gonna be probably something not that complicated, since I’m new."thought the man. Finally, a young lady with black hair tied into a ponytail and some glasses on her face came up to him:"Mister Alfred Jones?" He looked at her:"Yup, that’s me. And you are my guide, I suppose." She smiled:"That’s right. My name’s Marianne. Nice meeting you. Now, let’s go. There’s a lot to show you around." Then she pressed a button to open a door and start it walking away and he followed her. First she showed him the computer room. Right after that they went to a botanist room where they experimented with plants. Then went down to the basement, where there was a vent that leads to the canals and where they kept their unsuccessful experiments. After that they returned to show where the bathroom is. Then they went upstairs to see the other rooms. The scientific room where they create a lot of substances, the second bathroom, the mechanic room where they create a lot devices. Finally they came to the experiment room, where they test their creations. While Marianne was introducing everything, something caught Alfred’s eyes. There was a tank filled with water. And inside of it there was something, or someone. He came up to take a closer look. Inside of that tank, there was a sea creature, a merman. He was laying there, with eyes closed. He had beautiful long brown hair reaching his shoulders. A huge dark green tail with really beautiful scales. Although it looked like some of them were missing, as if something or someone would tore them out. The merman was also wearing some sorts of a collar, that looked really uncomfortable. And looked pretty injured. The new scientist looked a bit closer at the merman’s face. He could clearly see a grimace on his face. Alfred’s eyes got filled with sadness. He felt pity for the poor thing. "Poor guy, he must’ve been through a lot. I wonder why nobody took any interest to help the poor thing out. He looks so much in pain." Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder:"Alfred, there you are. While I was talking, I noticed you disappeared and I start it looking for you." He turned around to see Marianne:"Ummm… can I ask you something?" She smiled at him:"Sure, ask right away." "What is this merman doing here and also why nobody bothered to help him out? He looks like he needs help." asked the man. Marianne opened her eyes wide open:"Oh, that? Don’t worry about it. Is a merman that we fished out from the sea few months ago. But that’s not important. What’s important now is that you go see the boss." She took him by the hand and dragged him away from the tank. The merman opened his eyes. His eyes, his beautiful green eyes, filled with nothing but sorrow. Before Marianne managed to drag Alfred out of the room, the merman looked at Alfred, making an eye contact with him. The boss was already waiting in his office. When Alfred and Marianne arrived, she left him and attended her business. "Mister Jones, the fresh blood in our lab. Is nice having you here. I would love to chat with you more, but there’s a lot of work to do. Here’s the list of stuff you will have to do today." said the man and hand it over the list to Alfred. He took the list and went out. It took a while but he did everything from the list. After he finished, he went back to check on the merman.

There he was, inside the tank. He heard the door open and saw Alfred in them. "Hey, is nice seeing you again." said Alfred. The merman looked at the scientist with shook:"Is you… That human… I’ve never seen you here before…" "Oh, that’s because I’m new here. My name is Alfred. What about you? Do you have a name?" asked the man. A face full of frustration appeared on the merman’s face:"And why would I tell you? Why should I trust you? You’re one of them. You’re a human." Shook appeared on Alfred’s face:"Wow, hold up. Do you have something against humans?" The merman got even more frustrated:"Humans are pests that only care about power and control. They don’t care about the well being of other creatures. They’re such selfish beings." Alfred was about to say something when out of the sudden the merman grabbed by his collar and start it screaming in pain. "What’s going on? What’s happening?" asked Alfred in panic and worried for the sea creature. A moment later, the merman lost consciousness. "Hey, are you alright? Please, wake up!" shout it Alfred. "Don’t worry about the sea creature, mister Jones. He’s gonna be alright." said a familiar voice. It was Marianne. "The work is done for today. You can go home." she said. "But what about him? He really looks in a bad condition." said Alfred. She patted his head:"Like I said. We’re gonna take good care of him. Don’t worry about it." In the end, she end it up convincing him to go back home. Next day, Alfred came back to work and gained some new assignments. When he was done with his work, he decided to check on the merman again. He wanted to be sure he’s alright. On his way to the experiment room, he thought about what he said yesterday, before he fainted. Just as he entered the room, he witnessed some of scientists with the merman out of the tank, holding him down and tearing out some of his scales from his tail. The sound of the merman’s agonizing screams echoed in Alfred’s ears. After all of it stopped, they let go of the merman, leaving him laying on the floor. "What’s going on in here? What are you doing? Stop this immediately! Can’t you see you’re hurting him? You should help him instead." said the man as he start it approaching the merman. But his way got blocked by two of his colleagues:"Don’t come any closer. We need those scales for experiments. And beside, is a test subject. It doesn’t matter how he feels or what he feels."said one of them. "Do you hear yourself? This is a living creature. He may not be a human, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings." The merman opened his eyes and looked at Alfred."This human… Why he’s defending me?"he wondered. "Listen here newbie, you can see the merman if you want but don’t you dare interrupt our research." Then they kicked Alfred out of the room, while the rest took the merman and got him back inside the tank. A few hours passed. The merman was sitting there, wondering about why that human was defending him. What was his goal in all of this? Was he trying to trick him? Then he got snapped out of his thoughts to the sound of the door opening. It was that human again. And he brought…food? "Hey, I thought you might be hungry. They probably don’t give you proper food, huh?" said Alfred. He got closer to the tank and slowly handed over the food to the merman. He took and looked at it:"Is this some sorts of tricks? Did you put something in that food?" "No, of course not. I am not like that." answered the man. The merman didn’t want to believe him but he could feel he was telling the truth. He start it eating and Alfred watched him. After the merman finished, he asked the scientist a question:"I don’t get it. Why are you helping me?" Alfred gave him a gentle smile:"Because helping is the right thing and something all people should do. And you definitely need help."

The merman turned away. "You don’t believe me, right. I can’t blame you I guess." said the man and start it walking off. The merman turned around:"Wait! Please. Don’t go." Alfred faced him. "Alfred? Is it? Yesterday you asked my name. Is Tolys. My name is Tolys."said the merman. The days passed. Alfred visited Tolys everyday. Providing him proper food and comforting him when he need it. He just wished he could stop these awful people from hurting Tolys. Days by days, the merman slowly start it to trust him. And they slowly start it to become friends. One day, when Alfred finished his work, as always he came to see Tolys. The merman, just as he saw the friendly face, with happiness he swam up to him. The two chat it until, Alfred decided to ask Tolys about how he got there. He let his face down and a moment of silence accurate. "All of this was unexpected. I was just swimming when all of the sudden I got caught in a fishnet. I tried to escape, but my tail got tangled up and while struggling I accidentally hurt myself and some of my scales got ripped off. But the situation got worse when i end it up here. These awful people kept on running tests on me, hurting me or tearing out the scales from my tail. And once when I tried to make my escape, they put that awful collar on me making me unable to transform in a human form and to force me into doing things I don’t wanna do. I tried many times to take it off, but it just won’t come off." said Tolys as tears start it coming up his eyes. Alfred looked at him with sadness:"I’m really sorry to hear that, dude. That’s terrible." He comforted the merman. Right now he really needed it. A moment later an idea sparked in Alfred’s head:"I have an idea. Tonight I will get you out of there." Confusion appeared on Toyls’s face:"But how are you planning to do that?" "Don’t you worry about it. I have a plan." said the man. Later at night, Alfred broke into the lab. First he desactivated the cameras and then went straight to the room where Tolys was being held. "Alright, I know you can barely swim but I will really need you to make an effort and swim up, so I can get you out, okay?" said Alfred. Tolys noded and did as Alfred asked him. Moments later, he was out of the tank. "Now, I will lay you down on the floor for a moment. And whatever happens, try to be as still as possible, so I can remove that collar of you." said the man. It wasn’t easy to stay still for Tolys. After all, he was still injured. Alfred took a screwdriver and gently removed the screws from the collar. After the screws were removed, the collar got loose and got easily taken off. Tolys turned into a human form and Alfred hand it him some clothes. "Can you walk?" asked Alfred. Tolys got up and made a few stumbling steps and fell on his knees:"Barely." "Is alright. I can carry you." said Alfred, took him in arms and left. Once they arrived to Alfred’s house, he put Tolys on the bed and told him to change back into his merman form. He looked over the injures:"Damn, those are pretty deep injuries and needs to be taken good care of. At this point you won’t be able to go back to the sea yet. I’m really sorry dude." "Is not your fault. You weren’t part of the people who hurt me." said the merman. "I know, but if I did something earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have such deep injuries." said Alfred closing his eyes.

Suddenly he opened his eyes as he felt a hand touching his cheek:"Don’t blame yourself. Beside, now at least I’m free thanks to you." Alfred giggled softly:"Well, I guess you’re right. Anyway, since you will be staying for a while, do you got any wishes?" "Well, it would be nice if I could sleep somewhere where’s water." answered Tolys. "Oh gosh, I don’t have anything like a tank. Would a bathtub be enough?" asked the man. "Sure, I guess" answered the merman. A moment later Alfred filled the bathtub and put Tolys in it. "All good and comfy?"asked the man. Tolys noded:"Yes. Well, maybe is not as huge as the tank but I can still fit in it without a problem." He smiled at him:"Good thing I decided to have a bigger bathtub." He got close to the door and was about to leave when Tolys decided to ask him a question:"Alfred, what about your job?" Alfred turned around:"After everything that happened I will quit. There’s no way I can work with this kind of people." "And what if they’ll come here to take me back and hurt you?"asked Tolys all worried. "Don’t worry. They don’t know where I live. And beside, I’m well prepared just in case." said Alfred. He got closer to the door:"Alright, sleep well. Tomorrow, I will take better care of your injuries. Goodnight Toyls." And he went to sleep. Days passed. Alfred was taking really good care of Tolys and his injuries. Step by step it was slowly getting better. Also the two had a lot of fun in each other company. Before they knew it, they developed romantic feelings for each other but didn’t know how to confess to each other. Until one day it happened over one of their conversations. "I really can’t thank you enough for helping me out. I’m really greatful for this, Alfred." said the merman. "You don’t have to thank me this much, really."said Alfred applying new bandages on the injuries. "And done. Soon, enough you should be able to get back to the sea and join your family."said the man. A mixed up look appeared on Tolys’s face:"Alfred… I don’t have a family. Since I remember, I never had one. I always used to be alone." Alfred immediately hugged him:"I’m really sorry for saying that. I didn’t know that…" Tolys cut him off:"Is okay." They stayed like that for a minute. "Tolys, there is something I need to tell you. Some time ago, I’ve developed certain feelings for you. I think that… I love you." said Alfred. Tolys looked at him:"Honestly, I think I feel the same way about you Alfred. I love you too." Then they shared their first kiss. That night Tolys couldn’t sleep, so he turned into the human form and went to sleep with Alfred, in one bed together. Some months later, the merman could finally go back to the sea but something bothered him. "Here we are, honey. Just like I promised. You can now go back to the sea." said Alfred. "Oh, true."said Tolys and slowly got into water. "I’m really gonna miss you, Alfred. You showed me that not every humans are bad." said the merman. "I will miss you too. I just love you so much, but I know that I shouldn’t be keeping you away from the sea." said the man. The merman took his true from and start it swimming away. Before diving in, he decided to look at his lover the last time. Alfred waved at him, holding back tears. Tolys couldn’t take it and swam back to the surface, turning to the human form:"No, I can’t do this. I can’t leave you. You’re the only person I know and that I have. I don’t want to be alone ever again." They hugged each other. "But the sea. Are you sure you wanna stay with me?"asked Alfred. By surprise Tolys placed a gentle kiss on his lover’s lips. After they broke the kiss, Tolys asked:"Is this enough to answer your question?" "Yes" said Alfred.

The End

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