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levisolace · 10 months

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[1] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 1: Windex and Baking Soda

WC: 7,182 Chapter Warnings: slight angst Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. story masterlist > next chapter

“It’s always my pleasure, Mr. Brown.”

The corporate smile on your face drops as soon as you hit the end button in the video call application on your laptop. It was the first meeting of the day with a client and you were already exhausted, wanting nothing but to go home and curl up in bed, heavily surrounded by your pillows and weighted blanket for hours. But you know that’s a dream that would remain a fantasy for a while. Why? Because it’s a Monday. It’s only the start of the week and judging from the pile of paperwork delivered to your desk this morning, you would have to work overtime again for the third week in a row.

Being recently hired by one of the top leading firms in the country is a blessing you will be thankful for every day but as the week goes by and you’re on your fifth pile of paperwork, more than ten meetings in one week, you can’t help but think what would it be like to work for a small, quiet firm. You shrug those thoughts away as soon as they come. You’re grateful for the more-than-average salary the firm provides, at least.

The day went on as it always does: hours of you trying to ignore your back pain. It was becoming unbearable and you can’t even use the ointments your grandmother used to insist you use because it would no doubt infest the building with its smell—your reputation and first impression from your coworkers is at stake.

As you’re typing back an email from your superior, Atty. Dot Pixis, you halt when you feel the buzzing on your table. You pick it up mindlessly, checking to see the notification. A smile spreads on your face to see that it’s your previous boss, Vanessa.

hey. how’s working with the big leagues?? pixis is not tiring you out too much is he?? i can give him a word if you want.

pixis is treating me really well, nes. thank u for checking up on me! i miss everyone there at the firm and little ian :((

Vanessa, besides being your former boss back in Olsen & Associates, is also your friend and self-proclaimed older sister. She's a well-known attorney, and Olsen is a legend back in law school because she’s an alumnus who’s actually cool and doesn’t have their head up their asses. However, after deciding to settle down and start a family, she opened up a small firm in her hometown.

i might just have to visit bc i miss my little sis :(( should’ve never let u leave

technically, it’s your fault i left

i know :( don't remind me

Two months ago, Vanessa told you that ODM is hiring and Pixis contacted her to see if she knows anyone to take the job. Your jaw dropped to the ground when she told you she recommended you and you can send in your resume if you’re interested. It was an offer no one could pass up so before you knew it, you were being hauled into a hours-long bus ride and then anxiously seated for an interview in the city you used to live in. And after about a week of being a nervous wreck waiting for their response, you were contacted that you’ve been selected for the position.

Now here you are, finally settled in your office. You still can’t believe you have your own space in this huge building. You would’ve never thought you’d be working here in the firm you only used to stare at in awe while passing by years ago.

Although, you have to admit that you miss the warm feeling of the small firm where you all know each other, exchange heartfelt greetings, and gossip when there are not too many clients. Now, you pass by a new face every now and then, most not even bothering to greet you or spare you a look. You can’t blame them. The work here is drastic.

By the time you left the office, it’s already dark and way past office hours. As you were driving home, you remembered you still needed a few supplies in your apartment. You haven’t exactly settled yourself in, prioritizing work more. God, you even still had a few boxes to unpack.

You stopped by a 24-hour supermarket that you spotted on your way to work this morning when you had to reroute because of the traffic. It was a little out of the way but it would do. It was still two hours before midnight, anyway.

As you drag your feet through the aisles and drop whatever you felt like you needed in the cart, unwanted memories come creeping in. The air in Paradis City is still the same. Even if a few buildings might have changed or some stores you used to frequent have closed down, it was still the same Paradis you knew—a buzzing city filled with dreams. The streets are never empty, famously congested by students from top universities or office workers.

When you got the offer for the job, you weighed out the pros and cons. There were only two cons you were able to determine:

You don’t want to leave Olsen & Associates and Vanessa’s hometown, Trost, and

You’d be going back to your hometown, the one you promised not to go back to.

The pros outweigh the cons, obviously. That weight being the thick fat salary you would be getting. Besides, Paradis is huge and has like three million residents. It’s not like you’d cross paths with him. And it’s been years. He probably forgot all about you anyway. You barely think about him. It was just a silly puppy-love relationship. No biggie.

Keep telling yourself that.

Shut up.

“That one’s better.”

A voice directed to you made you snap out of your thoughts. It made you painfully aware of how you had been staring at the two options of green tea in your hand for probably more than the normal minutes it takes one to decide. The tall brunette had on a face mask covering half his face, his hair parted in the middle, and he wore a simple light blue button-down and black slacks. He was about two feet away from you when he pointed at the tea canister in your right hand.

“Oh. Thanks,” you replied sheepishly. Desperate to run away from the embarrassment of zoning out in the middle of a public space, you take his advice and put down the canister on your left hand back to the shelf.

“You’re welcome. I see my friend drinking it all the time so it has to be good,” he nods and you see his cheeks prop up, probably sporting a smile beneath the mask. You smiled back and thanked him again.

“Can you grab that one for me?” He points at a sweet one, a flavor in contrast with the green tea you chose. It was on the shelf being blocked by your cart beside you. You quickly mutter an apology and reach for a can.

“My fiancée prefers her tea fruity,” he explains even if you didn’t ask, his ears tinted a bit red from his own statement. You immediately find it endearing. He seems very fond of his partner as he continues to babble about her. “Well actually, she prefers coffee with an unhealthy amount of espresso shots but I eventually persuaded her to drink tea once in a while.”

“Moby! I know we usually don’t get this brand but guess what? This has a free pink sponge!”

You freeze at the sound of that awfully loud and familiar cheerful voice heading towards you at a fast pace. You couldn’t turn your head. Your fingers unconsciously grip the can you’re holding harshly with wide eyes. Silently, you were wishing that the person just had the same voice as the crazed tall woman with glasses you used to know or the man beside you isn’t named ‘Moby.’ The former would hardly be the case because from the sound of the voice, the personality of being uncaring of the silent atmosphere of the supermarket, and the way she ran excitedly from your peripheral vision, you were sure that this person was your old friend Hange. For the latter, your last hope dies down as you see the stranger turn his head at the sound of his name and reply with a sigh.

“What the hell are you gonna do with a sponge, babe? We have lots of sponges.”

“Okay but imagine! We swap out Levi’s sponge with a pink one.”

“I don’t think Levi cares about the color as long as it cleans.”

The fight or flight response in you went crazy at the mention of the name you haven’t heard in years, heavily leaning on the former. You could just hand this guy named Moby’s tea and make a run for it. You doubt Hange would care while being heavily invested in her free pink sponge.

But why would you run? You only run when you’re scared or did something wrong. Which is it? It can't be the latter, right?

I did.

Oh? So you did. You’re scared, huh? That she’d get angry at you for what you did back then.

I am.

Run then. That’s all you know to do anyway.

Shut up. Leave me alone.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

For the second time in front of the same stranger, you were snapped out of your trance and find yourself gripping the can so hard that you think you’ve made a light dent on the can. Damn, you should really get a decent amount of sleep. You’ve been losing it a lot lately.

You shake your head and slap your cheek lightly with your free hand. “Sorry. Lack of sleep. I’m fine. Here.”

You turn to him and hand him the can, hoping he wouldn’t mind the barely noticeable dent you made. Purposely, you don’t stray your eyes away from the man. You don’t want to be the first person to acknowledge Hange. Maybe she doesn’t even remember you. Maybe she doesn’t even want to acknowledge you.

“Greenie?”

It was more of a mutter. But with how loud Hanji’s voice is, you and Moby clearly heard it.

That’s when you look at her and actually see her. She looks the same as you saw her last. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and her brown eyes were covered by thick-rimmed glasses. Nothing much has changed from her appearance except for the disappearance of the youthful look now replaced by maturity. Her gaze is fixed on you, slack-jawed. Her reaction doesn’t surprise or faze you, having expected that much. It’s what would follow that you’re nervous about. What would she say? Will she get angry at you? Or will she even remember who you are? Somehow, you dread that last possible outcome worst.

“H-Hange,” you breathily let out. You wonder if it’s audible.

Her fiancé also looks shocked, staring at you and then back to Hanji with widened eyes. “This is Greenie? The Greenie?” He points at you while asking Hange who was still frozen. His tone and reference to you immediately tell you that you have been discussed with people you never met, no doubt now knowing your past with them.

Greenie. You haven’t heard that nickname in a while.

It was silent for a few seconds, eyes not straying from each other. You probably look apologetic—scared, even. The man beside her is waiting too. You think he’s having a mini breakdown in disbelief.

When you see her start to lunge at you, you shut your eyes, expecting her palm to collide with your cheek. You expect her to slap you and scream at you in the middle of the cold supermarket. You expect her to ask you where you got the nerve to come back to the city after all you’ve done.

Instead, what she did broke down all your expectations.

Long and slender arms wrap around your figure, pulling you tightly to her chest. Your face is squished against the fabric of her fluffy parka jacket. Even if you suddenly have trouble breathing with how tight her hug is, you were thankful that it covered your face and how you were biting your lower lip, trying to suppress the relief that comes with tears.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You couldn’t even answer. Or move at all. Not that you even know what to say.

“Hange. You’re killing her.” You hear her partner say. Hange instantly loosens her grip on you, muttering an apology with a slight chuckle. When she looks down at you, you give her a gentle smile.

“I missed you too, Hange.” And you meant it.

The tall woman was still not letting you go, arms wrapped just below your shoulders because of the height difference. Even if you were caged in her arms, you can still tilt your head up to look at her. Suddenly, tears started streaming down her face as she tilts her head down to you, her mouth quivering. Then it turns into full-on sobbing. You chuckle as she starts swaying you with her, going side to side like a pendulum as she sobs while wailing your name repeatedly.

There was no stopping Hange when she gets like this. So you let it happen. You let her hug you like she did many times before. You relish the moment, wanting to pass out and let loose in her hold. Maybe you’re dreaming and you’ll wake up in your bed, filled with disappointment and yearning for some warmth.

When she was satisfied, she let you go and introduced you to Moblit, her fiancé and coworker. They walked with you as you continued to shop, telling you stories about her and Moblit. Thankfully for your sake, she didn’t ask you much about yourself or what happened when you were away. She just asked how you were doing right now and what you were doing in the city. Although you were scared that the news would get to him, you told her the truth that you recently got hired at the law firm.

“So you moved back then? Like permanently?” Her brows raised in excitement.

“Well, I have a temporary contract for six months before I’m permanently employed there so hopefully,” you shrug while heading to checkout. As expected, Hange doesn’t care that you practically explained that it’s technically a ‘not yet,’ she shrieks and jumps up and down anyway.

“Oh my god, this is perfect! Greenie, one of my bridesmaids had to back out but we already had the dress paid and it’s a no-refund. Can you step in for her and attend our wedding? Would you? Please? Please?” Hange begs you, hands clasped together as she stares at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

You stop in your tracks and feel your heart sink to the ground. She wants you to attend her wedding knowing that many, if not everyone, you used to know will be there. And if his name was so casually mentioned earlier, that meant that they were still very much best friends and he would definitely be there.

And a few minutes ago you were convincing yourself that you wouldn’t accidentally run into him in this city. Now, you have to actually see him and be in the same room for a few hours?

You start with a chuckle. “Oh. I wouldn’t mean to impose—”

You were abruptly overpowered by her loud negation. “No, you wouldn’t! Everyone would be ecstatic to see you! I swear.”

“But—“

Hange sighs dramatically, shoulders slumping with a pout on her face. “I guess it’d be too much, wouldn’t it? You’re probably busy, right? Right. Sorry, I just got excited.” She turns to her boyfriend. “Moby, can you pay for our stuff and Greenie’s too?”

“What?”

Your eyes widened but before you could protest or take a strong hold on your cart, Moblit was already dragging it away and sending a flying kiss to Hange who giggled like a schoolgirl to catch it with her fist. You turn to her in disbelief as he turns his back. She catches your face, knowing what you’re about to say.

“It’s fine. That won’t make a dent in his bank account.”

Just like that, you were painfully reminded how no one could get a word in with Hange.

“Un-fucking-believeable.”

Niccolo, the training chef, flinched from behind him when the silver-eyed man let out an unprovoked profanity as he entered the restaurant. Connie, his loyal secretary, doesn’t even bat an eye at the unprofessional behavior of his boss, only following behind him with a straight face.

“Shithead. Call Nile later. Tell him I want a new team on this…” his words halt in disgust as he sees the unfinished, poorly done walls of what was to be a new branch of Kuchel’s. “or I’ll fire his stupid construction company out of every damn project. Verbatim.”

“Will do, sir.” Connie nods, mentally sighing. Not only is he used to hearing the profanities, but he’s also used to being ordered to say it too.

Levi nods at his secretary’s response, eager to leave the abomination that was supposed to be at 80% progress at this date. As he turns, he’s faced with Connie and a blonde man he doesn’t know.

“Who’s this?”

The blonde man practically shivered at his haze, the corner of his lips twitching at the sides. It was a sad attempt at a smile. Mentally, Connie sighed at his boss’ unfocused mind when there was something that greatly irritates him. The trainee chef was just literally in the car with them and Levi told Connie to bring the chef with them on the way to check the new location.

“This is Niccolo, sir. He was in the car with us. He’s the one highly considered by the HR,” Connie expertly answered.

“So you’re on the last stage,” Levi addresses Niccolo. The nervous man gulps but answers. “Yes, sir.”

Connie watches the exchange, feeling a bit of pity for the tall man cowering at the gaze of such a short guy with a temper taller than a skyscraper. He was exactly like this when Levi interviewed him for the position.

“Sorry, I had to make a detour because some shitheads can’t do their job right. Let’s go.”

And so Niccolo and Connie followed the grumpy man back to the vehicle they just got not even three minutes ago.

Not that he knew what to expect or had guesses but Niccolo was utterly surprised that he was brought to the first Kuchel’s restaurant. The legendary one that went viral.

When he passed by the reception area, his eyes widened when he saw the reservation list filled with no spots left. It was practically booked for the month from what he saw.

The kitchen smelled amazing, each one of the cooks was busy and they actually looked happy while working. They worked with so much coordination and laughter like he had never seen before.

He thought that he’d train or cook with them today, seeing as they’re Kuchel’s main branch’s team. He was excited too. But again, Levi surprises him when he pushes another door open from the kitchen, revealing a staircase. The man says nothing but climbs upstairs.

Confused but too scared to ask, Niccolo only stares at Connie but who beckons him to follow him up the stairs. When he sees Levi take a glance behind him, his feet move on its own, following the cold short man’s steps.

He sees a living room first. It’s a simple home but maintained well enough to look pristine. He kept on following Levi as he eventually led him to a kitchen. Levi turned to him and he’d be lying if he said that his heart didn’t jump at his sudden order.

“Do whatever you like. You have an hour.”

And then he leaves the kitchen, leaving Niccolo confused as he looks around at the domestic kitchen. He sees Connie, Levi’s assistant aggressively mouthing the words ‘cook anything’ as he follows Levi back to the living room.

“Good job. I think he liked it.”

Connie whispers to Niccolo before he leaves. Normally, he isn’t allowed to tell the training chefs what Levi thinks. But he’s feeling a little silly and Niccolo is his friend and his best friend, Sasha’s, boyfriend.

Just like all the other training chefs, Levi brought Niccolo to his old home to cook something for him. Levi is hella picky with them but Connie could see that he actually liked his friend’s food. There was no pursing of lips, which was the worst of them all. Connie had to scramble and get the trainee out before he burst the room into a myriad of colorful words no one wants to hear.

When they got back to the office, Hange was already there and most probably uninvited.

“What the fuck are you doing here, four eyes?”

Levi’s eyes were seething with annoyance as he sees his friend sitting at his desk on his chair, spinning around like an idiot. It was hard to believe that this woman is a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

“Shorty! You’re here!” She exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the fine wood of Levi’s desk to stop the chair from spinning.

“Get the fuck up before I strangle you to death, Hange.”

Hange chuckles but stands up anyway, skipping before plopping herself on the couch in Levi’s office. “Can you relax? I was just here to remind you that I’m getting married.”

Levi groans and rolls his eyes. “Who would fucking forget, Hange? You text a fucking countdown at seven in the morning in the group chat tagged to everyone. The mute option has been fucking useless since you learned how to do it.”

Levi sits down on his chair and switches on his computer to return to work despite his friend’s unsolicited visit to his office.

“Oh! I wanted to ask you something too! Do you have a date for the wedding? So I can take note of a plus one, maybe?”

He gives a blank stare to his friend for a second before turning back to his screen. “You know you can ask me that through a phone call, right?” He began typing away on his laptop, answering a few emails Connie forwarded to him.

“Well, you blocked my number so I thought that you’d rather see me in person.” Hange shrugs with a grin.

Levi pauses, remembering that he did block Hange’s number that one night she insisted for he come over and watch a horror movie with Erwin and Moblit. He was working and couldn’t turn his phone on do not disturb mode so he had to specifically block Hange’s calls. He then proceeds to forget to unblock her until now.

“So, no date?” Hange presses further.

Levi grunts, annoyed at the stupid question. “Who the fuck am I gonna bring? It’s not like I’m gonna bring a random girl to your wedding, Hange.”

“You totally could. They’re called escorts,” Hange suggests like a know-it-all.

“I don’t want a random stranger in your wedding pictures, four eyes.”

“I would rather have that than see you so depressing in my pictures with your bitch face. Oh! Want me to set you up on a blind date?” Hange’s voice rises again, something that happens when she gets excited over an idea.

“Fuck no,” Levi spat.

“Your last serious relationship was decades ago, Levi. Give it a try again.”

If looks could kill, funeral flowers would be thrown at Hange’s casket instead of wedding flowers. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hanging frozen at her words. At the mere implication of you, his blood boils and his chest tightens.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well–”

“Are you saying I’m not over her again, Hange?”

Before she could answer, the door swung open, revealing a tall blonde man with thick eyebrows who was grinning cheek to cheek. Great. Erwin’s here. Maybe they could send a few more uninvited people, order greasy pizza, and have a party in his office.

“Over who?” Erwin asks, ever the gossip man. Levi grunts and rests his forehead in his palms as Hange greets Erwin enthusiastically before answering.

“You know who.”

Erwin narrows his eyes at Levi before sitting down on the other edge of the couch. Hange tells him about getting a blind date. “You could try, Hange. I’ve set him up with surprise blind dates before and you know how that went.”

“Can you two fucking shut up and leave? I’m trying to work here,” Levi spat in annoyance. The pair ignores his grumbling, carrying on their conversation like he wasn’t in the room.

“But I have never set him up with someone before,” Hange points out.

Erwin purses his lips. “I doubt that you can find a girl better than me, Hange. I tried everything.”

Erwin and Hange look at each other with mischief, clearly enjoying Levi’s suffering from their teasing. He knows they won’t stop. If anything, it only egged them on further.

Hange places a finger on her chin obnoxiously. “Maybe you could ask the girl to wear green next time.”

Erwin nods, crossing his arms like he’s actually considering it. “Absolutely. We all know Levi still loves his greenie.”

God, even her nickname is a pain to hear.

Levi slams a hand down his mahogany desk so loud that people outside his office probably heard it. It didn’t faze his friends who were snickering on the couch though. They know he’s about to blow. He’s so frustrated that he almost ran a finger through his well-kept hair but caught himself before damaging it, exhaling loudly in frustration before speaking.

“Look, you dipshits. I told you a thousand times. Forget about that damned woman. I’m not dating because I’m goddamn busy with all these expansions, not because I’m not over a girl who left us all without a fucking trace.” Every word is laced with venom and he ends it with a huff.

“Fine. We get it. You’re over her but you’re still angry at her.” Hange rolls her eyes.

Levi doesn’t know exactly when they started referring to her as mere stories or inside jokes. But evidently, it turned out that way. They used to be hurt at the thought of her disappearing. Slowly, they started to forget. Except him. He’s still angry and confused when he thinks of a reason why.

“I am,” he admits.

“And if she comes to see you again? What will you do?”

This question again, Levi thinks.

He sighs. Like an automated machine, he answers the question as he did a myriad of times before, the first being the answer to one of your stupid games of what-if questions when you were together. Most were just ways to make him say those damn three words to you. It was usually just dumb things like “What if I was a worm?” and he would roll his eyes and tell you that he would unhesitatingly kill you before kissing you when you frown in disappointment. One question, however, deeply offended him more than anything.

“Levi, what if I asked you to break up with me?”

You were sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs, still reeling from the sad romantic movie the two of you watched where the disabled paralyzed man still decides to die even after he fell in love with his caregiver.

Levi, who’s in the middle of choosing another movie from your collection of DVDs, freezes in his seat. He doesn’t turn to look at you but you see his whole body tensed up having heard what you said.

“What if we break up like that?”

You repeat the question with a pout on your lips. Levi finally looks at you with a frown on his face. He sighs and looks away, gaze lifting up for a second as if he’s thinking.

“No,” he answers even if the question upsets him. “We’re not gonna break up.”

You noticed that his mood falters from your question. Feeling a little bad, you wrap a hand around his bicep, pulling yourself close to his side. With a smile, you lean in and give him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t be sad. It was just hypothetical.”

He instantly leans unto you. He always does so when you’re near—like opposite sides of a magnet being pulled together by force. He always wants to be near you.

“Can you just go back to stupid questions like the worm shit?” He asks with a low voice, faces too close to each other that his lips could brush yours.

You give him a teasing grin and hum, nodding but doing the exact opposite of what he asked. Ever his stubborn girl, you continue asking. “But what if I leave you?”

He glares at you, not very pained this time, knowing it’s just you teasing again. Instead, his brows furrowed as he gazed down at you with his silver eyes. His eyes flick down to your lips and his lower lip brushes against yours for a millisecond. When you were sure he was about to kiss you, he shoves a hand at your face and pushes you away with a little force, making you land on the couch on your back.

You laugh but curse him out loud for his attack. Levi huffs, crossing his arms and looking away.

“If you do that, I will ignore you for the rest of my fucking life. You’re dead to me.” He says it with so much conviction that you know he doesn’t mean a word of it.

You sit up again, frowning then lightly slapping his shoulder. “That’s rude. What if I come back to see you, then?”

He scoffs loudly, still looking away from you, and spots his box of cleaning supplies. Then, he says the second thing that comes into his mind, thinking that the first one he thought of would seem desperate and pathetic of him.

He opens his mouth to speak and the words you hear from him causes an ever louder laugh out of you. He smiles before pushing you on your back again. This time, pulling himself on top of you and sealing your lips with a kiss.

“I’d spray her with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on her stupid face, and kick her out.”

Usually, the statement is so funny to them that it ends the conversation. Sometimes, he even gives them a demonstration where one of their unlucky friends gets to be on the receiving end. But this time, Erwin has a follow-up question that goes straight to Levi’s chest.

“And if she insists on staying? What will you do?”

Levi went quiet. Hange and Erwin give a knowing sad look at each other that Levi doesn’t catch. They didn’t mean to push him this hard. But they had to know if he was ready.

From just outside his door where Connie’s desk is placed, his secretary listens in as well. He heard about his boss’ ex. The whole office knows about it. His mysterious ex and the only woman Levi Ackerman loved. That was what everyone knew. But from spending too much time with his boss more than he wanted to, Connie had learned the following about his boss’ only relationship:

Her nickname is Greenie because she liked green tea. Levi prefers black tea but he accidentally told you he liked green tea too then ran with it for four months until Hanji revealed the truth accidentally.

The four of them knew each other for a long time. He doesn’t know if they met in high school or college. But in school, definitely.

After getting their undergraduate degree, she asked Levi to break up and broke his heart with words.

After the breakup, she disappeared from Paradis. Levi waited for her for a long time, broken and yearning. She didn’t come back. Now, all Levi has is bitterness in his body.

Those are what Connie gathered from his little detective skills to cope with having to work under the horribly mannered man. Then, he shares it with his best friend, Sasha, during his lunch break.

He listens a little more, the email he was reading sitting idle for longer than it should. His boss still doesn’t answer.

Inside, Erwin and Hange await their friend’s reply who is still lost in his own thoughts. Erwin decides to push him one last time. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“If she comes to you for closure, will you accept it? You’re over her, right? You can stay angry, that’s valid. She did you wrong. But will you at least hear her?”

Levi keeps quiet but listens to Erwin. The word closure gives his stomach an unsettling feeling. It felt wrong to hear it. But it doesn’t matter. His friends were just bored and bluffing again. He can bluff too.

“I don’t really care about her as much as you think I still do. When I see her, I’ll do what I said I would. Then it’s done. I don’t care what she does anymore.”

It’s been five days since you coincidentally met Hange and Moblit. Before you parted ways, you exchanged numbers and your old friend has been messaging you nonstop. You appreciated it. Hange was always light-hearted and kind. You’re glad she found someone who appreciates her and takes care of her. So when she mentioned that there was a conflict with the invitations, you offered to fix it for her, knowing a thing or two about it. You handled project management a few times as an intern.

There was once a time when you called her your best friend. You know that’s a title you no longer hold but either way, you were glad to talk to her again. Even if you know that in the very near future, you would have to face what it holds for you. Now that Hange is back in your life, it’s only a matter of time and you’d have to see your ex again. You lie awake at night thinking of what you’d do then.

It was Saturday. That means no work for you after lunch, thankfully. You ground through your paper works and clients like a corporate machine all week, wanting to finish them before Saturday so you wouldn’t have to go overtime on a weekend. And after about nine cups of highly caffeinated green tea, you finally finished all your work for the week. Now free from the shackles of labor and capitalism, you slung your tote bag over your shoulder and headed out of your office and onto the elevator.

Passing by Pixis’ office, you inform him you’re taking your leave which he cheerfully allowed, wishing you a happy weekend before you left his office. You bid him to have the same and left the building, anxious to see through the next events of the day. If this was a normal weekend, you’d be content with wasting away in bed as soon as you rushed home.

You handled the invitations over the week, using your break time to oversee how it’s going with the printing service you trust for things like this. They generously accepted your request for a rush order, knowing who you are.

The invitations were piled into a box on your coffee table by Friday, ready to be sent out to Hange’s guests. When you texted Hange that they were ready, she sent over her apartment’s address, telling you to personally meet her there on Saturday after work. She argues when you tell her you can just send it in the same day through an app, whining about how she wants to hang out with you.

Hange, ever the persuasive and persistent person, got you to agree. That, and you still feel guilty for declining her invitation to her wedding.

After you press the doorbell, you wait patiently with your left hand holding the small box of invitations. Her apartment was apparently a penthouse. An apartment in this building already costs an arm and a leg. Hange is smart and talented, one of her research must’ve been really successful. You also remembered that she was probably living with Moblit here. Ah, the wonders of having a partner in life—shared rent. Maybe you should get a roommate.

When the door was taking too long to be answered, you shoot up a text for Hange.

hey i’m here outside ur door ! :))

ok! just wAit a bit

It didn’t take Hange long to reply, easing your anxiety a little. When it takes more than a minute after she sends her text, you tilt your head in confusion. Are you at the correct address? Maybe you’re at the wrong unit. You were pretty sure you were on the right one, though. You rechecked it a few times.

You wait a little bit more before ringing the doorbell again. You assume she’s probably grossed into something and can’t take the door at the moment. With a sigh, you wait a few more minutes, turning away from the door and deciding to scroll through your social media accounts that you barely use.

A smile involuntarily plasters itself on your face when you see the posts of your coworkers from Trost. Warmth spreads to your chest as you see the office through the pictures, reminiscing your time there. It’s suddenly frightening, the realization that you’re alone in this huge city with no one to turn to. It’s a feeling you’re awfully familiar with, a state you’d rather not return to.

When you feel yourself drift away to those thoughts, you pull yourself away immediately, figuring that the time you waited should be enough to press the doorbell again.

But as you turn around to press it for the second time, the door swings open harshly in a swift motion, making you jump a little in surprise and fear as you hear an annoyed groan from a man that is most definitely not Hange coming with it.

“For fuck’s sake. Did Hange give a woman my addre…”

The two of you froze.

The raven-dark hair parted in the middle. The undercut. Those gray eyes and his beautiful piercing gaze. Those high cheekbones and soft cheeks. Those furrowed brows and scrunched forehead that was softly dissipated from his face when he sees you standing behind the door. Those delicate pink lips, now parted in awe and mirroring yours.

Neither of you can move like you were frozen in time. Every muscle in your body refused to move. Your brain stopped functioning and wasn't even able to conjure a coherent thought, much less a response. The only thing you could do was stare at the man you once called home.

He still had dark under eyes but they were more prominent than before. You hate how it still suited him even if you hated how little he sleeps; they make his gaze heavier, willing you to get lost with him. A few strands of his fringe fall over his eyes. They were a little longer than what you were used to but it was still the same haircut you used to run your hand over when you were cuddling. It was a little unkempt. And even though his white shirt is a little crumpled, it still smoothly falls over his frame. It drapes from his defined shoulders to his waist until the hem of the shirt goes over the band of his gray sweatpants that hugged his legs loosely.

He breaks the gaze spell when his eyes go over you, top to bottom. He stares at your shocked and devastated countenance, the casual but decent clothes that you changed into after work, the box in your hand, and the way your right foot has stepped further back than your left when he opened the door, ready to run away at the thought the man who opened the door was angry.

You open your mouth to speak. You know you have to say something. Anything. Hi? Hello? How are you? Is this where Hange lives? Why the fuck do you still look so hot?

But none of that comes out.

Why?

Levi’s face hardens before you can speak, wiping off the bewildered eyes and replacing them with his infamous glare, silver eyes glistening with specks of anger. His mouth closes into a frown but not before scoffing at you. The scorned expression on his face shuts you right up for a second but you try and carry on.

This time, before you can speak, he slams the door shut in your face with an impact so loud it booms through your whole being enough to raise all the hair on your skin, leaving you standing there in his floor’s corridor appalled and deeply belittled.

Your startled brain is more confused than ever. As you decide to slowly process what happened and not even ten seconds after he harshly shuts his door, it swings open again, revealing the same man who not-so-gently shut it, with a hand still on the knob and the other holding something blue.

His arm outstretched towards you and you were faced with a nozzle of a familiar spray bottle. With a straight face, he sprays the fucking liquid right on your face. You immediately shut your eyes and mouth, leaning your face away from the spray. Although it’s far enough to not cover your face if you hadn’t moved, you still cringe when you feel the tiny droplets on your skin.

You lift one eye open, scared that he’s about to spray again. He puts the bottle down to his side, looking satisfied with his work. When you open both eyes, he shuts the door again, leaving you in the corridor with heightened emotions from the first time he did it paired with an itching aggravation.

Was that a fucking Windex?

Hold on. Windex?

The door swings open again and he fully reveals himself without a hand on the knob like the two times before. This time he’s holding an orange cardboard box labeled Pure Baking Soda and reaches into it with his other hand.

You shut your eyes close immediately, realizing what was happening when you remembered his words to you years ago.

“I’d spray you with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on your face, and kick you out.”

The baking soda hits your face, making your nose involuntarily scrunch up because of the fistful of powder he threw at you. When you guess that he’s satisfied after successfully throwing you the promised baking soda, you blink your eyes open, finding him still standing there with a straight face.

“Are you done?” you asked with a deadpan face, covered with baking soda.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman #levi ackermann x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi imagine #levi fluff #levi smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfic #snk x reader #snk x y/n

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fairycosmos · 6 months

Note

girl hey how are you?? any tips when you get rejected from a job you really wanted?? 🤡🤡 please send me your wisdom also hope ur doing well hows georgie give her a kiss from me xx

godddddd i'm so sorry to hear this!! the job-hunting landscape is fucking awful at the minute and i know it's extremely difficult to hold out any sort of hope when stuff like this keeps happening. i feel like whenever this has happened to me that i was always told to just kind of move on and pick myself up and while that's true to an extent it's also like ok but i'm losing my mind this is the fucking worst so i think you should allow yourself room to feel like shit over it. don't judge it or try to push it away but don't internalise it or drown in it either (e.g don't fall into the trap of thinking in absolutes such as "this is always going to keep happening" or "i've got no chance of finding a good role because that was my only shot" - it just leads to pointless despair that often isn't based on anything factual.) it's ok to cry or vent or write or scream about it, it's ok that you feel bad because something bad happened. and no it won't always be like this and yes you will have ample opportunity in the future to find another version of your dream job but recognising that right now you're in pain can be healthy and good, too. whenever i'm job-hunting i always try to get to a place where rejection just feels like a dull hit and then i move on to the next, like truly i just force myself to go in with no expectations, fuck it nothings real, trying out whatever persona i think they'll like best and then leaving it all behind me when i get the rejection email LOL. but when it's a position you deeply want, understandably, you'd need some time and space to process not getting it. i rmr what sometimes made me feel a tiny bit better was going over what i learned from the experience, even if it was just getting more comfortable in an interview setting or answering a question well, and building a plan to optimise my approach and basically give myself a better shot at the next interview based on the one i'd lost out on. i could console myself by saying at least i'm growing and at least i'm building up my interview skills and how i present myself every time i do this crap. i can say it wasn't a waste of time even if i didn't get it. if they offer feedback ask for some so you can work on whatever so-called "weak" spots they perceived if any (at the same time though seriously! do not internalise anything job people say to you as like a severe moral flaw like these people would reject an applicant for not smiling enough it's truly meaningless. but for the sake of job-hunting it's just something to keep in mind.) anyway i've noticed sometimes we feel a bit better about this sort of thing if we're able to exert some control over it, if there's some actionable steps we can take like working on our speaking skills or upgrading your CV or whatever. ultimately i think it's good to remember that there are so many different ways for your life to turn out well. the illusion of one path being the absolute key to everything you've ever wanted or dreamed of is just that, an illusion. there's endless versions of the future spanning out in front of you and you have happiness in so many of them - when it comes to friendships, jobs, dating, whatever - there's no singular right way to "be." sending you a massive hug. i know words ring hollow then you feel terrible so maybe come back to this another day if you want to. will give georgie the biggest forehead kiss from you <3 mwah xx

#anon

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warriorteam1924 · 6 months

Text

Somebody’s watching me

featuring Joe Mazzello & Swan

Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for another tiny piece for halloween ^^ ! I’ve been super busy lately and I’m aware it’s not my best piece, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Using someone else's gif should give you an idea of how I'm running everywhere. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, it’s always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isn’t my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.

Warnings : none really, just my awful writing

Summary : a thrill with Joe Mazzello

Words count : 1,729 words

Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @orionis8689 (apologies people, i removed you from the list, since you don't interact.... i asked for communication....)

It was yet another random day for Joe when he woke up that day. Morning coffee and breakfast, shower, hairstyling. Nothing very unusual. He wasn’t currently busy with work so he spent his days between his computer, his console or watching random series or movies. Maybe at some point it would give him an idea for a future working project. Of course, he wasn’t to feel sorry for. Money wasn’t an issue. He had his friends he could see now and then. His family was close to him and he could pay a visit every now and then. Life was good. Or at least, that’s what he was thinking so far.

He took his phone to take a picture, a silly one obviously, to send his friend. After taking a few ones, he opened the gallery application and smiled at his own silliness, when he saw his selfies with his tongue sticking out.

He was still genuinely smiling when panic erased his grin. There was a picture on his phone, a picture he was sure he didn’t take. He was absolutely certain he hadn’t taken it since it was a picture of him sleeping. The issue was, he was living alone. And there was not a chance of someone like a robber or a random intruder would be able to enter his house. Joe was living on his own and made sure to lock doors and windows at night. There was no reason to tempt fate. Those things didn’t happen only to others. Besides, he had also installed a few security cameras.

In this picture, he was peacefully sleeping, curled up in his blanket. There was no doubt, it was him and his bedroom. What on earth had happened?

Joe was firmly frowning. He decided to delete all the silly selfies he had taken, leaving the suspicious picture on top of his gallery. He had no important plans for the day, so it was the right time to investigate.

He sat in front of his computer and plugged his phone. He logged on several sites such as his mailbox, his social accounts and other online shopping sites. Apparently, all was still normal, meaning no one had hacked his accounts.

He hadn’t been very keen on doing so but some time ago, he also had installed an artificial intelligence to connect his different devices, and it also helped him manage his security cameras. He had chosen a feminine name, Swan, but it was also a dedication to Henrietta Swan Leavitt, famous American astronomer. It wasn’t super fancy, but it was yet another occasion to bring up an interesting topic when someone was coming over and he was using his A.I.

“Swan?”, he asked like he usually did.

“Yes, Joe?”, the feminine voice replied, like it usually did.

“Did you spot anything special last night while I was sleeping? Was there anything strange or unusual?”, he questioned.

“One moment, please”, Swan replied.

Joe knew that Swan needed time to search the files and check them all. The robotic voice spoke again.

“Nothing unusual was found. Are you looking for something specific?”.

“I was just wondering if someone had entered the house?”, Joe asked.

“No intruder or uninvited person was recorded on the files.”, the voice affirmed again.

Joe frowned again. His phone rang and a reminder let him know he had planned to see a friend, unlike what he had thought in the morning. Trying not to think about it, he got ready and went to meet his friend.

It was actually his best friend, so Joe thought about showing him the mysterious pic and asking him for advice. They had known each other for a very long time, it was worth trying.

Mentioning it in the conversation, Joe took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it and opened the gallery app to show it to his friend. The latter looked at it and he frowned.

“Are you kidding me, mate?”, he asked.

“What ?”, Joe replied.

“There isn’t such a pic in your gallery dude….”, the other said as he handed him his phone.

“What the….”, Joe didn’t finish his sentence.

He scrolled and searched his gallery, several times, he even looked in the trash folder, thinking maybe he had accidentally deleted it. But he found nothing.

The rest of the time dedicated to his friend was nothing but Joe daydreaming and nodding, as he wasn’t really paying attention to what his friend was saying.

At some point, Joe pretended to be tired and went back home. He was worried and concerned. Had he lost his mind?

Still trying not to think about the mysterious picture, Joe watched his feel-good movie and went to bed, after checking his bedroom all the same, just to make sure there wasn’t a camera or anything he hadn’t seen before. Yet, there was nothing he hadn't installed, no device in the room to take a picture of him.

The following morning, he woke up as he usually did, thinking about his daily tasks. There was no notification on his phone, but he wanted to make sure the previous day only happened in his mind, that it tricked him when seeing the mysterious picture.

What was his horror when he saw another picture of him, again, sleeping tightly in his bed. Panic invaded him again, shaking his body and making him sweat. His breath was heavy and he had to fight the severe anxiety that was threatening him.

He got up, and again, went on his laptop to check again his various accounts. Again, nothing unusual was to be noted. He asked Swan to give him access to the security cameras. It was possible the day before that, the artificial intelligence had missed something.

Swan gave him access to the videos and he fast-forward looked at them. All the cameras showed nothing but a calm night in the surroundings. A street cat was seen on one camera, but Joe made sure to look at all the videos and he saw nothing. No intruder, no one who had been able to unlock his phone, take a picture of him, put his phone back and leave. Besides, his phone was to be unlocked with his fingerprint, there was no way he wouldn’t have felt it.

Again, he asked Swan a few questions, making sure he, too, hadn’t missed anything. It replied with his feminine and robotic voice.

“There was nothing unusual last night, Joe. Can I help you in any way?”.

“I’m starting to wonder if I’m going crazy….”, Joe mumbled, more to himself rather than a proper reply to the A.I. that was now in his life.

“You’re not crazy, Joe. You’re a very nice man, funny, compassionate, smart. According to the social criteria, you are also very good looking. Anyone would feel good by your side.”, Swan replied all the same.

Joe had a fixed grin, but his worries were still there.

He thought about talking about it with other friends, or his family. But it would probably worry them. He also considered going to the police. But what if the picture disappeared again? They would surely think he was mental, even trying to draw attention on him. Or maybe that it would have been some kind of a joke.

Trying not to give way to panic, Joe wanted to try another night and try to stay awake longer. Maybe this way he would be able to witness someone with his own eyes.

Yet, despite having coffee and trying hard to stay up, Joe fell asleep. And of course, the following morning, there was a new pic of him sleeping on his phone.

Looking around him in his living room, Joe was very anxious and felt more and more confused. He couldn’t understand what was going on.

Speaking out loud to let his thoughts out, he said :

“I know !! I’m going to send the pictures to someone I trust and this way, the pic won’t only be on my device and they will believe me.”

Joe took his phone and selected the pic to send it to his friend. He called him in the meantime, making sure the latter had received the file. Yet, and to Joe’s greatest disappointment, his friend was getting nothing.

Joe thought maybe the file was corrupted or something, so he screencaped it and tried again to send it to his friend, miserably failing again and again.

“Let me know when you’re willing to be serious, mate.”, his friend said before hanging up, annoyed that Joe had disturbed him for nothing.

The following days weren’t very different from the previous ones. Joe went to bed and woke up with a new picture of him sleeping. One morning, the picture even included little heart emojis around him.

Joe had decided to go to the police, but as he had expected, when he arrived and tried to show his gallery, all the pictures taken of him while he was sleeping were gone.

He came back home, feeling isolated and losing it. That was it, it was official, he was becoming crazy.

“I’m going slightly mad, that’s for sure….”, he randomly said out loud. “What have I done to deserve that?”, he rhetorically asked, since he was on his own.

“You’ve done nothing wrong Joe. You’re a very nice man, funny, compassionate, smart. According to the social criteria, you are also very good looking. Anyone would feel good by your side.”, Swan said, and its sentences sounded very familiar.

“Yeah, yeah sure….”, Joe said. “Why bother, you’re nothing but a bot anyways….”, he concluded, before collapsing on the sofa.

Feeling like giving up, Joe started to cry. What was he supposed to do now? He heard his favorite song coming out of the speakers. Looking around, he feared the intruder was inside, but realized it was nothing but Swan that had heard him cry and tried to make him feel better.

“Thank you, Swan.”, Joe said, wiping the tears from his cheeks, slowly falling asleep again.

Joe was already snoring before the artificial intelligence could reply.

“I knew you’d like the music, Joe. I know you very well. But I’m surprised you didn’t like the pictures I took of you, to show you how much I love you. Soon, I’m going to show you I’m more than just a robot….”

#warriorteam1924 writes #somebody's watching me #2023 halloween from warriorteam1924 #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fanfiction #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fiction #joe mazzello fic #hopefully it is not too bad #thanks for reading

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inkofamethyst · 2 years

Text

October 22, 2022

[Six of Crows spoilers in this paragraph] Hey did I mention that the scene where Kaz tore out that dude’s eye after Inej got hurt made me go absolutely feral? Because pinterest knows me about as well as I know myself (in contrast to tiktok which knows me better than I know myself and instagram which barely knows me at all) the app showed me a SoC textpost (still haven’t finished Crooked Kingdom lol) and it took me down a rabbit hole (apparently there’s going to be a show???? [edit: apparently Shadow and Bone is the show??? I haven’t even watched that, but I know it’s supposed to be good]) which reminded me of that scene in particular. For someone who considers herself to be awfully soft-hearted, apparently my love language is gore. Or, rather, an intelligent man who will tear the world to shreds if it lays a finger on me. (Now look. There is something that could be said about potential toxicity in the Kaz/Inej dynamic especially because he bought her but I’m a simple girl and simply have chosen to overlook this.)

ALSO APPARENTLY THERE’S GOING TO BE A NEW PERCY BOOK FROM PERCY’S POINT OF VIEW WITH THE ORIGINAL TRIO??? Step aside Swifties, the old school pjo fans are quaking this year.

Speaking of media, the Halo show is getting a season 2!!! I’m really excited for it actually.

And you know what? As annoying and nerve-wrecking as it is, I actually am thankful that I’ve been forced to send out so many emails this semester. Emails have become a lot less terrifying and more of just a thing to do to contact someone, and I welcome that shift. In the year before (hopefully) going out into the real world (more or less (like I won’t receive the same coddling as undergrad but I will still be in school so)), I’m getting the practice which is great, truly.

THAT SAID. I did get an email from a potential collaborator tonight as in nine pm on a saturday which was basically “im not taking students but yea id coadvise ig” and I have this awful habit of taking indifference/apathy toward me as dislike, and I am purposefully not allowing myself to go down that road today (also what is this lady doing on her work email on a saturday do you want me to think you have no life like,,, i at least fake it by schedule-sending all of my emails). Look, ultimately, it’ll make my application stronger even if I haven’t had the opportunity to actually speak with this woman about what it might look like. It’s fine I’ll be fine. Everyone is certain that I’ll have A Decision to make, and I think I’m nearly at the point of believing them which is... I mean it’s a nice change of pace! We’ll see how I feel closer to my deadlines and after them!

Second, I am thankful that I have a good relationship with my sister. We went to see a wind ensemble performance last night and a football game today and while I was far more interested in the performance than the game (my sister was really into the game but my heart rate did not once increase, uhm, I could’ve cared less, but not by much (I did bring a book to read with me in case I got too bored, but it never reached that point and also that would’ve made me look like a main character in a Wattpad self-insert fanfiction so I couldn’t bring myself to do it and also my little band kid heart liked watching the marching band go brrr)), they were both still fun.

[edit: it’s ten now and my pop gen professor has also just replied to an email of mine, can... can tenured folk chill out? I pray for their rest, truly (though I suppose it makes sense to be on top of your inbox because you’re a well-known professor and it could be easy for actual important communications to slip to the bottom)]

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jaskiersbard · 8 months

Note

You're totally right about the tattoos thing. Sometimes people don't want to show their tattoos but can't cover them for some reason. Doesn't mean they still like them. How do these people think former gang members feel about their tattoos?

Exactly; I got my Beasts/Potter tattoos between August 2018 and April 2019 (I think it was April - it was definitely early-2019 when I got my last Potter tattoo), so I got them before it was obvious just how awful JKR is. I had no way of knowing then just how terrible she was back then, all I knew was that Potter and Beasts meant a lot to me and got me through my teens and early adult life.

There's a few reasons I haven't gotten cover ups or removals, but it is mostly down to money: I'm, to be blunt, poor as FUCK right now. I've spent the last two and a half years working at various schools through an agency that has taken hundreds of pounds off of my earnings, and the summer camp I usually get work at didn't need me except for two days this summer because they had so many returning staff and very few children (cost of living crisis, am i right?) I've spent the last month job hunting and despite sending off at least 100 applications, I've had two interviews and one scheduled one for two weeks; I've had to apply for Universal Credit because I have barely any money left, and even then that's not coming in until mid-September, and that's not going to be anywhere enough to get five cover-up tattoos, especially since the Leta flower is pretty big.

There's a few other reasons I haven't, but it is mostly down to money. And I'm sorry, but I'm not covering my arms from wrists to elbows with bandages (due to a personal struggle with MH etc), nor am I going to put body paint on my arms every single day or wear wristbands going up my entire arm. As for sleeves, it's not just because of the humid weather but also because of sensory issues related to my autism - if I get hot then it gets itchy and sweaty and uncomfortable etc. Besides, I don't want to cover up my other tattoos that mean a lot to me and that - frankly - look amazing as fuck just because of the Potter ones.

Thankfully, my Potter/Beasts ones are relatively small: Tina's wand, a Newt quote with his signature, the Deathly Hallows symbol and the tiny Potter glasses/scar are all pretty minimalist. The Leta Lestrange orchid (with her name above it and two words beneath it) is pretty big, but to be honest most people don't even realise what it's from. That tattoo is also bordering extremely closely to my Last of Us Part II tattoo, like the artist left about 1mm of space between one of the fern leaves and then the Leta tattoo (which is a testament to how great he is quite frankly because now it looks like I've got a little sleeve going on), so covering it would be very hard.

It's also worth mentioning that during this discussion, someone replied to the original tweet about Potter tattoos having a bigger regret rate than transitioning, saying that far right Nazi groups have apparently started tattooing Norse runes on their bodies and using runes in their bio/display name - which horrifies me because I have a Norse rune tattoo from the How To Train Your Dragon series, and the last thing I want is someone assuming I agree with Nazis all because I got a tattoo that says "Night Fury" and was taken from a family film about dragons and Vikings.

#it's late and my brain is fuzzy so sorry if this makes no sense #tattoo #tattoos #asks #anon #it's really ironic that the potter ones are more offensive than the literal TargCest tattoo on my leg

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an-overthinkers-way-to-life · 2 years

Text

Blog #5 - Extended Reflection

Poof

“Ahh! Where am I? Who are you?”

“Well this is our room and I’m you from the future.”

“Oh�� okay.”

“Wait, this doesn’t phase you?”

“Why would it? We both know how our funky brain works.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“So… why am I here?”

“Yes about that, you’re from January 2020 right?”

“Yes? It’s the 15th?”

“Perfect, just the person I need! So last night you did your drama motif performance right?”

“Yeah, it was awesome! And I know this sounds crazy, but after that performance, I have this weird moment-”

“Where you looked into the mirror and thought maybe, somehow, in this crazy state of the world you can do this for a living?”

“Wait. How do you- oh right this is the future.”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m writing an essay about this for my writing class. I just want you here for reference. You know, to make sure- ”

“It looks dramatic and tragic enough to get you a good mark?”

“God, you know me so well.”

“Well, I am you after all.”

“Okay, here is what I have for now,” I pass the laptop to the younger me, “It’s mostly fine, but I just don’t know how to explain that feeling we both got. I want a metaphor where people can still understand how we felt but something that they can still relate to.”

She touches the keypad and begins to scroll, “Oh wow, this is four pages long. How do you write so much?”

“Emotional outbursts and practice?”

She clicks her tongue, “Sounds about right. So… why is this incident out of every other crazy thing that has happened in our lives? I’m sure there must have been something more interesting than this.”

“You see that bag over there?”

“Yes? And?”

“It is filled to the brim with university student guides, and one of them might have the potential drama program of our dreams.”

“Wait!? You’re serious? You’re not joking?”

“No, I mean…” I sighed, “Really all because of that-”

“Moment.”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Wow, I…Thank you.”

“No, Thank you. I have to brainwash you after this though, so won’t actually remember anything from tonight.”

“It’s okay. At least we did it. Now, shall we continue?”

“‘A coward. A crybaby. A waste of space.’ Short. Dramatic. I like that.”

“Thanks. I use a lot of brief sentences to emphasize the rapid change of emotions. The beginning also echoes back to something I have at the end so it really packs a punch.

“I really like this coat metaphor you started with. The ‘smothering feeling’ and ‘directionless ticking’ are spot on.”

“Thanks, I used coat because in a way it’s like-”

“How actors put on different costumes and personalities to play different characters?”

“And this is why I trust you with this.”

“How do you come up with everything so fast? This might have been last night for me but it’s years ago for you.”

“Well, I actually have written down a list of ‘major theatre events’ over the summer for university supplementary applications so I won’t be scrambling on the day of. Then in class, I did a brainstorming session and that’s how I come up with some of the metaphors I used”

“So word vomit and rage writing?”

“Correct.”

“The imagery you used for the stage description really gave me goosebumps ‘an endless horizon of possibilities and a pit full of booby traps’ and ‘the lights brewed above us while the thick silence echoed our every word.’ It feels exactly like last night.”

“I think it’s important to set the scene as something hauntingly beautiful. Show the stage’s best and worst traits so any reader can picture it. In turn, further understanding the fear and excitement.”

“Alright but this part really takes the cake. The way you compared acting to a mother reading a bedtime story is beautiful.”

“That’s actually one of my favourites. I really want to emphasize the way that comforting familiarity is taken away from me and nostalgic comfort is the ultimate strategy. It took me a long time to come up with that because I had a hard time coming up with good metaphors throughout writing this essay.”

“Well I think this is great, I hope you get a good mark on this.”

“Aw thanks, now before I send you back, remember, try not to be so hard on yourself. You’ll understand that later.”

“Um…ok? Well, it’s lovely meeting you, bye.”

“Bye.”

Poof

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madamevirgo · 2 years

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The Start Of Us

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x reader

Summary: You’re a marketing intern for The Outset and you catch the eye of one Scarlett Johansson.

Warnings: none?

Words: 2051

A/N: The Outset inspired story you didn’t know you needed. Welcome to my first published series! I sat down yesterday feeling inspired and wrote about 5 chapters - nevermind the 4 assignments I have due this Friday, lol. The goal is to have 10-12 parts to this story and publish a chapter weekly. This will allow me to have at least two chapters sitting in my drafts in case I get too busy or lack inspiration. All the parts are around 2-3k words. I will also be posting this on my wattpad, so follow me there to get notified when I post (@Bellice15), or you can follow my personal hashtag ‘#MadameVirgoWrites’ to keep up with my updates on here. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to have a taglist at this point of my writing journey, and still need to make a masterlist. As always, feedback is great motivation and if you have any ideas of things you’d like to see in this story, comment them so I can be inspired. Happy reading!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

As a college student, it was hard to decide when the worst time of the year was; but right now, if I had to pick one, it would have to be the period between spring and summer break. That moment where you spend your time either looking for internships or student jobs and struggling to keep up with your assignments and exams; the countless hours spent on LinkedIn and with your nose in the books, questioning if you made the right career choice. I had lost count of how many cover letters I had written and how many organizations I had sent my resume to. Eventually, I had stopped being picky and simply started applying to things I was remotely qualified for.

Beggars can’t be choosers, the saying goes. Job searching was a very humbling experience. It was a Friday night, around 11 pm. The rest of my friends would be several vodka shots deep by now, but here I was, sitting in front of my computer. A headache was starting to form itself, either from the stress, exhaustion or the blue light of my computer screen to which I had been exposed for 12 consecutive hours today. If I had to guess, I would say all three. I was close to giving up, resigning myself to the fact that I’d probably have to work an unsavoury retail job this summer - if I even got that lucky - when suddenly my laptop chimed with an incoming email.

Dear Y/n L/n,

After reviewing multiple applicants over the last few weeks, we are pleased to inform you that your portfolio has stood out to us the most. We would like to invite you to an in-person interview and further discuss the position of ‘paid marketing intern’ with you in the following week. Please reply to this email with your availability.

We look forward to meeting you,

Kate Foster Lengyel

Co-Founder & CEO of ‘The Outset’

I re-read the email a few times to make sure it wasn’t a fragment of my imagination. To be fair, I didn’t remember applying for this position or company. But reading the onboarding kit, it seemed like the internship of my dreams, although the website explained that it was a new company which left me a bit hesitant. This wouldn’t be the first time I fell for a scam like that. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, I emailed back.

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

A week later, the uber dropped me off in front of a large three-storey modern warehouse in the business district. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the building. Although the outside was beautiful, the inside was magical. The glass windows allowed the light to flow beautifully inside the building. The decor allowed minimalism and comfort to blend comfortably, and the soft music playing in the background seemed to harmonize perfectly with the sound of people talking and walking around. I was so in awe that I didn’t see a blond woman with a friendly smile approaching me.

“Hi! You seem a bit lost. Can I help you, dear?” I looked in the direction where the voice had come from, and I felt heat rushing to my face.

“Oh, uh yeah. Sorry. I have a meeting with Kate Foster Lengyel? It’s about the marketing intern position.” her eyes seemed to light up at that and her smile brightened if that was even possible. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Y/n L/n?” I nodded at that. “I’m Kate Foster! I’m so glad you could make it, please follow me, dear.” I nodded and followed her up to the third level into an office that seemed to overlook the entire warehouse. Once I was seated, she offered me a drink which I refused. I was too nervous to accept and didn’t want to risk emptying the content of my stomach in front of my potential employer.

“You seem nervous dear. There’s no need to be. Scarlett and I both went over your application and you stood out to us. The job is already yours, to be frank, we simply wanted to have you over as a formality and to make things official by signing some papers.” she explained while she sipped on her coffee. I nodded before something she said stood out to me.

“Scarlett?” I said in confusion.

“What do you know about our company, Y/n?” she asked after a moment of hesitation. I didn’t know much to be honest. When I received the email asking for a meeting I briefly looked over the website and what the requirements of my role were. I told her as such. “Well, to explain quickly, the idea of The Outset came to Scarlett and me during the pandemic and we pretty much created it during that time, through FedEx and lots of Zoom calls. We, as in, me and Scarlett Johansson,” she said this and looked carefully for a reaction on my part.

Of course, I knew who Scarlett Johansson was. I wasn’t much of a Marvel fan myself but I’ve seen all of the movies and some of her other projects. I was admirative of her work but I wouldn’t go as far as calling myself a fan.

“If you're worried about me being a crazy fan, let me put you at ease right now, Ms. Foster. I will be nothing but professional during my time here.” I was quick to reassure her. Satisfied with my answer, we proceeded with the meeting. She guided me through some contracts that I signed and explained or clarified some things.

“So that concludes the boring part. You’ll be working with the marketing team, under the supervision of our Marketing Coordinator - Lily, and reporting directly to her. I can introduce you since we’re done here. We launched yesterday, so we’re pretty busy - which means lots of work for you. Things have been crazy and we only expect it to get worse, which is a good thing. Of course, if you need anything, we’re all a big family and anyone will be able to help you. And here is the marketing department!” She pushes a glass sliding door and I am met with a vast space with lots of desktops placed in different corners of the office space that was easily 8 times the size of my one-bedroom apartment. In the center of the office was a room which was surrounded by glass doors - it appeared to be the meeting room as I could see people sitting in there while a woman was presenting something. She seemed to be done however as they all got up and left. Kate caught her eyes and she made her way towards us with a smile.

“Hi Kate, who’s your friend?” she asked, looking at me curiously.

“This is your new marketing intern, Y/n L/n. Y/n this is Lily, our marketing coordinator and your supervisor. I’ll leave you in her capable hands so she can show you around. I’ll see you Monday morning, yeah?” she waved and then she was gone. As today was Friday, we had agreed that I would start Monday morning, this would give me enough time to go over anything Lily would need me to know.

“I’m really happy to have you with us Y/n. Come on, I’ll get you acquainted with our side of the office before we get into the boring stuff. You can tell me about yourself while I show you around.”

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

Lily showed me around the warehouse just so I could get familiarized with the different departments in case I needed to interact with them. She mostly focused on our side of things, though. She showed me the company’s cafeteria which was located on the first floor of the building while our department was on the second. The entire building was very modern and vast. I also got to know Lily well and it seemed like we would get along fabulously. She had graduated from my college with the same degree I was pursuing. She is also only a few years older than me - 25 to my 21 years old.

I left the office with lots of paperwork to prepare me for the upcoming week and felt incredibly grateful. I spent the weekend working over said paperwork and getting familiar with the projects we were working on and events for the coming weeks. I would be shadowing Lily while doing tasks for anyone from the marketing team who needed it. By the time Monday came, I felt prepared, albeit a bit nervous. Although this was an internship and not much was expected from me other than to learn fast and execute tasks even faster, I wanted to prove my worth. I was doing some market research when I heard a knock on my door, I looked up to see Lily.

“Hey! The car is here to take us to the photoshoot. Once you wrap up here, we can leave.” I told her I’d only be second and she nodded before leaving. I quickly packed the company-issued iPad and grabbed my bag before making my way to the car.

“So everything was in the folder I sent you, but basically, we’re meeting Scarlett on site and making sure the photoshoot and interview follow the vision we have for the brand. We’ll also be taking some content, so there's that. Any questions?”

“How can I be as effective as possible during and after?”

“Just have the project folder on hand so you can make sure we’re on track and take notes on what’s happening. You’ll be making a report for the end of the week. Try to be as detailed as possible and don’t be afraid to voice any concerns or ideas you may have.” she hesitated for a second before looking at me. “Have you met Scarlett before?” She asked, making me giggle.

“If you’re worried about me freaking out, I won’t. What is she like?” I wanted to know just so I could be prepared if she were an airhead and blur of designer and arrogance.

“She’s cool and laid back. Not at all a diva since I know you’re wondering. But I guess you’ll see for yourself. You’re a better person than me, it took some time for me to get over the fact that I was working with THE Black Widow. Come on, we’re here.” We quickly got out of the vehicle. We were early so we could go over some things with the videographer and other people on the project. Once Scarlett was ready we began the real work.

Watching her in action was a different kind of experience. It was even better than seeing her on the big screen, and I finally understood why she was so loved and admired by so many across the world. I didn’t interact with her directly, but I could see how she behaved with the technicians and people around her. Always with a smile on her face, quick to laugh and make others laugh. She was easy to work with and in turn, that made everyone’s job easier and more enjoyable. I did my work and would alert Lily of any issues or points that were missing or not done correctly. By the time 3 pm rolled around, we were wrapping up and getting ready to leave.

“Great work today Y/n, I’m impressed,” said Lily, before squeezing my shoulder.

“Lily!” we both turned at that to see the woman of the hour (when wasn’t she) approaching us.

“Scar! Hey! You were fantastic.” she said, pulling her into a hug.

“Thanks, honey. Who’s this?” she directed her attention at me and I felt heat rush up to my face.

“This is Y/n L/n our new marketing intern. Y/n you know our co-founder and CEO, Scarlett.” Scarlett and I shook hands, but we quickly broke contact when we felt static shock.

“What an electric meeting. Glad to have you join the family Y/n. Your application stood out to Kate and me.” She said kindly, making me smile shyly before thanking her. I was pulled away by a technician and quickly excused myself. Although I was happy that people were already relying on me, I couldn’t help but feel saddened by being pulled away from Scarlett.

Part 2

Join this series’ Taglist

#scarlett johansson x reader #Scarlett Johansson #black widow x reader #Black Widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #MadameVirgoWrites #the outset #the start of us - SJ

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nagisasstunningpersonality · 2 years

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Devil Wears Prada AU. Please?

I cannot stop fixating on how good a Devil Wears Prada AU would be. I didn't mean to plot out an entire fic but look it happened and we're going to live with that.

Like we have Nagisa. Wants to write for something. So here he is taking an internship at Runway magazine as a means to an end.

Except Karma's the editor in chief and he's kind of a bitch actually. Obviously aged down quite a bit here, but I guess he's kind of a prodigy here. And obviously Nagisa had no idea who he was, so there's a 'oh no he's hot' moment as though his face isn't on the billboard outside.

Karma isn't exactly thinking the same. He wants to get Nagisa out of his clothes but only on the principle of them being ugly.

Anyway, things play out similar enough to the original story. Karma sends Nagisa on a bunch of menial tasks, except there's more of a directly sadistic element to it. Maybe Nagisa made some off the cuff remark and he's proving a point. Safe to say he's actually a little impressed when Nagisa doesn't just quit.

It gets to the point where they end up having an actual conversation and mutually realising they can get along pretty well. Then it goes right back to the mean stuff, but we've developed a level of 'he's not that bad' now.

Helping Nagisa's case is this being around the make over time, and now Karma's not distracted by the awfulness of his outfits, he's kind of like 'oh damn'. And then oh damn in a different way because he can't exactly screw his assistant. His GOOD assistant. Less concerned about the other major things HR could write him up for but hey.

Of course this gets to a breaking point during the Paris trip. Like, we have them in this really weird non-friendship state, where they clearly like each other but that can only be relegated to five minutes in an office setting. Being in close quarters, after some extended tension, and wine probably, obviously leads to them hooking up. Oh no.

Nagisa didn't want to be THAT guy, right? So he commits to the school of 'let's not address this and act like it didn't happen'. And in true Karma/Nagisa fashion, they don't talk about it. So Karma's kind of on a different page here, it's just he hasn't actually had much of a LIFE honestly so he's hardly suave with this kind of thing.

They're not dating, for sure, but it's almost like Karma's trying to make it like that. Failing, definitely, but still. He keeps inviting Nagisa to things he really doesn't need an assistant to help him with. Gives him some cufflinks or something because they'd look good with a suit he wore to work one time. He also can't actually give him the mean tasks. He tries to, but he ends up losing his nerve. Think 'sudden gay panic' but really it's just 'Nagisa panic'.

Then I don't know. Some sort of alternate act 3 conflict plays out. It's very emotional. Nagisa ends up quitting his job, possibly feeling weird about the whole romantic conflict. Then Karma takes that personally, so they fight more than they should. At work. People are very confused.

Karma still writes him a hell of a recommendation though. Like, it doesn't GET him the job per say, but it ensures that whoever manages applications actually reads Nagisa's. It's some sort of olive branch.

It's just enough that Nagisa feels like he should at least say thank you, though. Which leads to some other stuff. And now they're ACTUALLY dating except Karma's not his boss anymore, and it's relatively wholesome.

As for the rest of the cast:

I guess first assistant can be Nakamura here, except she's a whole lot nicer in concept. Just also kind of evil you know.

Korosensei is Stanley Tucci. I have no idea what the character's name actually is.

I guess Sugino can have the role of the boyfriend here, but they're just best friends/roommates.

Asano runs the rival magazine or something?

Everyone else can just work there somehow. I'm removing the whole love triangle subplot because we don't need it here.

#ass class #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classroom #karmagisa

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yslkook · 3 years

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TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#Jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jeon jungkook x reader #Jeon jungkook smut #Jungkook x you #Jeon jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff

498 notes · View notes

bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry...

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile.

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door.

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck.

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in.

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me.

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.”

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less.

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.”

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful.

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying.

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you.

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled.

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends.

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them.

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.”

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves.

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said.

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression.

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand.

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid.

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups.

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well.

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked.

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I��m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?”

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long.

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work.

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria.

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before.

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated.

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.”

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought.

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room.

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food.

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?”

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you.

“Project?” You ask.

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass.

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem.

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays.

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table.

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms.

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask.

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled.

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…”

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms.

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara.

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said.

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara.

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone.

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids.

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper.

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria.

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes.

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called.

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him.

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body.

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you.

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails.

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room.

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door.

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room.

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting?

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair.

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home.

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.”

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words.

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair.

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo.

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.”

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting.

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet.

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said.

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.”

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.”

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears.

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands.

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained.

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next.

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?”

You felt your ears redden.

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.”

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next?

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket.

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you.

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.”

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.”

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways.

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression.

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows.

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence.

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.”

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after.

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in.

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face.

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked.

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears.

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.”

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness.

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands.

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.”

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here.

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office.

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in.

“Come in.”

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up.

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you.

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked.

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

_______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone.

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him.

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.”

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table.

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?”

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid.

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up.

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out.

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss.

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing.

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought.

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you.

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up.

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought.

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table.

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water.

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you.

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive.

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm.

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name?

“Y/n!”

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.”

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others.

Huh? Was this water?

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.”

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee.

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer.

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen?

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said.

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down.

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.”

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth.

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.”

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said.

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder.

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared.

You dizzily nodded.

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced.

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?”

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen.

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down.

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah — I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?”

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone.

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off.

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep.

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building?

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV.

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times.

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck.

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s.

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added.

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you.

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?”

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought.

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone.

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message.

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan smut

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sparkle-hwa · 3 years

Text

at your service

summary: patiently waiting for your boyfriend to come home turns out to be quite the treat.

pairing: dom!hongjoong x sub!female reader

genre: smut

TW: none (but please let me know if I need to add any)

CW: dom/sub, name calling, slight degradation, unprotected sex

Word count: 2,366

A/N: aahhhh!! this is my first fanfiction that i wrote for ateez EVER and my first one I’m ever posting! i hope you all like it! please feel free to send any feedback :)

________________________________________________________________

You sat on the couch, headphones in, trying to concentrate on writing your term paper. The semester was almost over and you needed at least a B to keep your solid academic standing. Better grades now meant more scholarship opportunities for graduate school in the future and that’s what mattered most. Rewriting the same sentence over and over again didn’t seem so bad compared to endless loan payments. Pulling the blanket up higher on your chest you snuggled in and decided that thirty more minutes of writing would put you in a good place to finish and edit it tomorrow. Your entire week had been consumed by school and you were not about to let your Friday night get taken up by this. Hongjoong, your sweet, caring boyfriend would be home soon and you wanted a clear head for what you believed to be in store for you.

He had been sending you picture after picture on snapchat almost all of today. To the outsider viewer, it probably looked like he was taking simple selfies; after all, he had been at his internship all day. But the added captions were definitely for your eyes only. He detailed just what he wanted to do with you - to you - tonight and it was enough to make you squirm in your seat during class and turn the brightness all the way down on your phone. Recalling it now, you could feel the heat rise in your body and you subconsciously swallowed hard. Some say you can’t remember pain, but you definitely remembered how difficult it was to get yourself situated in your 8am lecture last week, the welts still red on your backside. Shaking your head and adjusting your earbuds, you got back to work.

—-

Hongjoong parked his car outside of the apartment complex and slumped in the seat once he cut the engine. It had been a long day. His internship had him working twice as hard, copying and filing, delivering reports, and filling coffee cups. He counted his blessings every morning though. He was chosen from hundreds of applications that flooded in from the university and this on his resume was sure to impress future employers. Sighing, he thought about what would have happened if you hadn’t convinced him to apply. You were so good for him.

With a smirk, he sat up, grabbed his laptop case, and opened the car door. He walked briskly to the front door and opened it slowly. Hongjoong first saw you sitting on the couch and then noticed the headphones placed securely in your ears. With a devious smile, he quietly set down his bag next to the end table, loosened his tie, and quietly padded across the foyer to the living room.

—

You were none the wiser to the fact that your boyfriend had just walked in the apartment. Seventeen was blasting loud in your headphones and in retrospect, you probably should have just played it from your laptop, lest someone who wanted to rob you had walked in instead. Bopping your head along to the beat, you felt really accomplished as you saved your final rough draft. Suddenly, you felt something coming down over your head. Before you had a moment to think, Hongjoong’s tie was tightening around your neck and you gasped at the sudden change of events. Leaning your head back, you saw your boyfriend standing over your with a look in his eyes that frightened you but also made you excited.

“Good evening babygirl,” he cooed at your lovingly.

“Good evening sir,” you replied, batting your eyelashes.

“Ooh someone remembered her manners. You must really want something from me.”

“Anything for you…” you trailed off as he stroked your cheek and you shut your eyes. As quickly as he was sweet, he smacked your cheek hard enough to make you gasp. Hongjoong tightened the restraint around your neck more.

“Get on your knees,” he growled at you, dropping the end of his tie and letting it drop down your back. Obliging, you dropped off the couch and sank down. You gazed down at your knees and heard Hongjoong walk around the end of the couch sit down.

“Mmm.. so pretty down there, sunk down just for me,” he purred, palming his cock through his work pants. You continued staring at your knees, feeling the heat pool at the bottom of your underwear. His praise was affirming to hear, even if you couldn’t respond.

“Hands and knees now,” he ordered. You put your palms on the hardwood floor and pushed your body up. The tie slipped down your side and grazed the floor. Hongjoong grabbed it and pulled at it slightly.

“Scoot closer.” You crawled closer as he pulled you by his tie and he pushed on your ass to make you move sideways.

“I’ve been dreaming of this ass all day. Work was so boring and I needed something to stimulate me,” he said, rubbing your ass over your PJs pants.

“I’m here for you, sir,” you dared to say. You were sure he wouldn’t care if you spoke without permission if it meant you were validating the fact that you were his and only his. Using the tie, he jerked your head so close your temple thumped against his knee.

“That’s correct. You are here for me. I’ll make sure you never forget that.” In one swift movement he pulled down your PJ pants and smacked one of your pale asscheeks. He pulled them down farther and you moved just a little so he could remove them completely along with your underwear. Once he rid you of your pants, you dropped back onto your feet and he slipped your sweatshirt off over your head. You obviously didn’t have a bra on since you had been home alone for the past 2 hours and you heard him murmur a curse quietly under his breath. It was cold on the hardwood, yet the more you thought about being completely naked in front of Hongjoong with only his tie around your neck the warmer you got.

“Let’s go slut,” he practically snapped at you and jerked the restraint tightly upward causing your head to jerk forward. Crawling on your hands and knees you followed him back to your bedroom where he told you to remain on all fours. He wasn’t noticing but you silently dared him to look over and make eye contact with you. You bit your lip and did your best to look as sexy as possible. At just the right moment, Hongjoong turned around and looked right at you. His gaze was penetrating, dominating, and you could feel the wetness of your heat spread slightly to your bare thighs.

“Come here baby,” he purred and you crawled slowly over to your lover, arching your back so that your ass stuck up higher and your tits stuck out just a bit more. When you reached him, you kneeled down at his feet and Hongjoong sat on the end of the bed.

“So you’re going to sit there like the good girl you are and you’re going to watch me jack off as I think of your tight wet pussy and then I’m going to pound you so hard you’ll have trouble walking in the morning. Sound like a plan?”

You squirmed on your feet, hoping to find friction somewhere to help relieve the wet aching you felt. “Yes sir, that sounds delightful,” you said, shooting him a glance that was somewhere between sexy and scathing. Hongjoong unzipped his pants and removed them with his undergarments. His cock sprung free. You quietly moaned as you saw his length unclothed. Swiftly he grabbed the end of the tie again and pulled you closer to him.

“Hmm I like this little leash I have on you,” he said with intense eye contact that made you melt. “Makes it easy for you to do what I want you to.” He winked and stuck his thumb in your mouth, pushing down your tongue. You welcomed the intrusion, happy to have some sort of physical touch to focus on. Wrapping his other hand around his cock, he started to stroke it. Hongjoong let out a gravely moan.

“Suck,”he ordered. You happily did as you were told, lifting up a bit so he didn’t have to lean down so much and sucked on his finger. He sped his pace up and pushed around in your mouth. You wanted desperately for him to replace it with his length. You moaned around his finger, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Aw does baby girl want more?” Hongjoong cooed at you. You nodded and he removed his finger. Hopeful, you gazed at him. Instead, he shoved you back down to your feet.

“I wonder what getting what you want is like?” He growled back. “Guess you’ll never know.” Winking he leaned back and continued to rub his dick, completely ignoring your pout. Closing his eyes, Hongjoong let his lips fall open. He heaved a heavy breath. Hongjoong seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

You however were not pleased. You were the slickest you had ever been and were fed up. Teasing you was one thing, but neglecting you for his own pleasure made you scrunch up your face. You watched your infuriatingly handsome boyfriend jack off and felt the displeasure rise. Your pussy ached. You slipped a hand down there to give some much needed pressure to your swollen clit. You decided to let out the loudest, sexiest moan you could muster to get his attention. Snapping up, Hongjoong made direct eye contact with you. His cock was still in his hand but he had stopped stroking and was watching you with a penetrating gaze. You continued to rub yourself and made direct eye contact right back at him. He scowled at you and you winked back at him knowing that that was either the best or the worst decisions you had ever made.

“Excuse me,” he growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting what I want,” you countered. You brought your fingers to your mouth to suck your juices off. “Is this what you want?” You eyed him seductively.

“Damn straight,” he replied. “Get up here?” He said it like a question but you knew it was a thinly veiled order. He was playing it safe. Somehow that turned you on more knowing that you had almost won.

Hongjoong laid on his back and you situated yourself so that you were on all fours beside him. His weeping cock lay flat against his pubic hair. You took it in your hand. Using the precum as a lube, you sped up quickly knowing that he hadn’t been going fast enough earlier.

“Uuuuugh” came a soft moan. You leaned up and bit his lower lip, just enough to lengthen his moan and turn it gravely.

“I love your sweet noises,” you cooed softly. “But I think it’s about damn time I started making those.” Dropping his cock, you rolled to lay on your back. Spreading your legs felt so good as the rush of cold air caressed your wet cunt. Hongjoong rolled onto his side and immediately stuck two fingers into your entrance. No warning. No announcement. Nothing, as he shoved them as deep as he could manage. It was enough to make you yelp out loud and remind you that you were still in trouble for disobeying.

“Fuuuuck,” you moaned.

“Mmm still my little babygirl,” murmured Hongjoong. He started to pump in and out faster. You were left breathless and clawing at the fitted sheet on the bed.

“Is babygirl going to cum?” Inquired Hongjoong as he clearly had no intention of slowing down.

“Y-yes sir. D-do I have permission?” You answered. Desperately hoping he would let you, you arched your back, hoping his fingers would stretch you out more.

“I suppose you could,” he said. “It’ll have to be on my count though.”

“Yes sir,” you moaned out breathlessly.

“One…. two… three…” he began.

“Uuugh,” you began. “You never told me what number I could cum on, sir”

“Good,” was the only response he gave to you. “Now where was I?”

He frustratingly began counting at four again. you felt the pressure building up in your lower abdomen. Either way, you were going to cum. It was either going to be when you were supposed to or you would break the rules. Somehow a dick would end up inside of you and you weren’t mad about it. Choosing the number ten, you achingly waited for his voice to reach the final number.

“Ten…” and everything else faded away as your pussy clenched around his finger. Hongjoong latched onto your nipple and bit down fairly hard. The sensation added to your orgasm and you enjoyed every moment of riding it out. Fucked out, you shivered as he removed his fingers.

“Nasty slut,” Hongjoong said and he wiped his moistened fingers onto your breasts. “Time for you to get properly fucked.”

He centered himself over you. In true fashion, your boyfriend wasted no time bottoming out in your already fucked pussy. His swift movements caused you both to moan at the same time. Hongjoong locked lips with you and shoved his cock in and out of you.

“Lift your arms up,” he moaned. You obliged and he clasped your wrists above your head.

“You look so good under me,” he growled at you. “Stick your tongue out.” Once again you did as you were told and he removed his hand from your wrists just for a moment so you could suck on his fingers again.

“Fuck baby I’m gonna cum,” he murmered in your ear. With one final stroke he spilled inside of you. Your pussy clenched around him again as he pulled out and you sighed as you felt his wetness inside of you.

“Lemme go get something to clean you off babygirl,” Hongjoong said with a quick kiss. He hurried back with a damp washcloth and proceeded to clean you off. Once he discarded it, Hongjoong slid beside you on the bed and snuggled close.

“So…. how was your day?”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #ateez hongjoong fanfiction #hongjoong smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong smut

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dilly-oh · 3 years

Text

Rent-a-Boyfriend

I need to get drunk, FAST, Kakashi thinks, taking a seat at the bar and signalling to the bartender. He wants to forget this evening ever happened as quickly as possible. He is never going on another blind date arranged by his so-called friends again - the guy they’d set him up with was some creepy artist with a ponytail who straight up asked to sculpt his dick, and when he politely declined, told him it was okay, size didn’t matter to him. Naturally, Kakashi’d dipped the moment the guy was distracted flirting with some other dude and scurried off to a nearby bar to drown his woes and seriously consider ghosting his friends forever.

Speak of the devil, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, but he ignores it in favor of taking a swig of beer instead. He is NOT talking to them right now. Just because they all found love doesn’t mean he needs to as well, especially not with their ‘help’. They make it seem so easy, like he isn’t even trying. Yeah, right. It isn’t as if the perfect man is going to just fall into his-

“Oh my God, help me,” a man hisses, barging over and plopping right into his lap. Kakashi gets a faceful of long brown hair (which is quite delightful considering it’s wonderfully soft and smells like flowers) and has to repress a giggle as it tickles his nose before remembering he’s supposed to be in a bad mood. Nice hair or not, Kakashi is about to shove the stranger off when he twists around to look up at Kakashi with the most gorgeous brown eyes he’s ever seen, wide and pleading for mercy. A worried frown wrinkles his forehead, crinkling the faded scar over the bridge of his nose, and he bites his lips anxiously. Suddenly Kakashi will do anything for this man, including murder. “My asshole ex is here.” Okay, he was kidding about the whole murder thing, but he’s not above a firm talking-to. Maybe even a long-winded discussion about boundaries if need be. “Please, please pretend to be my boyfriend so he’ll fuck off and leave me alone.”

Kakashi blinks.

Pretend? Hell, he would love to actually BE this cutie’s boyfriend, where’s the application, sign him the fuck up. Kakashi almost says this aloud, but the desperate, almost wild look in the man’s eyes quiets his instinctual smartass remark and forces him to actually take things seriously for once. He nods imperceptibly and wraps his arms around the man’s waist, pulling him closer just as a douchey-looking guy with silver hair struts up, glaring at him poisonously.

“Who the fuck is this?” he spits out.

“Piss off, Mizuki,” the man in his lap snaps back. “He’s my boyfriend, obviously. Why don’t you go vape in the alleyway or something?”

“Bullshit. I don’t believe you.” Mizuki’s eyes narrow dangerously as he studies Kakashi. “...Prove it. Prove that you’re actually dating him.” The man stiffens in Kakashi’s lap.

“Don’t be ridiculous! He doesn’t have to prove anything-”

“Leave him alone, he gets enough stress from teaching brats every day,” Kakashi cuts in. The man jerks around in his lap, gaping in surprise for a moment before carefully schooling his face. “He was up late correcting papers again last night. I felt bad, so I brought him his favorite Ichiraku ramen for lunch and walked the dog for him. I even offered to play CoD with his little brother.” He leans forward, pulling the man closer to his chest protectively. “Now...why don’t you get lost?”

“...Fuck you.” Mizuki’s glare darkens even further.

“Fuck you, too.” Kakashi sends him off with a cheery wave that turns into a middle-finger once the guy’s back is turned.

“How the hell did you know all that stuff about me?” the man in his lap asks once Mizuki slithers away to lurk in the shadows. He looks up at Kakashi uneasily, almost frightened. “Have you been...stalking me or something?”

“Never met you before in my life,” Kakashi replies, then goes on to explain. “According to my friends, not only am I a smug know-it-all and complete smart-ass, I’m also incredibly observant.” He takes a deep breath and begins. “You have red ink marks on your fingertips, presumably from a cheap red pen. The only reason for you to be using one of those is if you’re a teacher, grading papers, and judging from the bags under your eyes, I can easily guess you’ve spent more than a few nights up late grading. You have a rather fresh stain on your shirt, ramen, judging from the smell, with a unique aromatic spice added to the broth that’s only used at Ichiraku - I recognize it, having eaten there a few times. I know you have a dog because there’s fur on your pants, but it’s too high up for it to be from a cat, so therefore it must be from a medium-sized dog, perhaps a Shiba-Inu going by the length of hair and reddish tint. And as for your brother, the cell-phone in your pocket has a case that is a rather unfortunate shade of neon orange. Given your fashionable outfit and kempt appearance, you’d never have picked it yourself, therefore it had to have been a gift, and a sentimental one at that. A parent would never have purchased something so ridiculous for you, and you wouldn’t actually use it if it was a gag gift from a friend, so it could only have come from a younger sibling, obviously a brother, who I assume is teenaged based off the practicality of buying you a case for your cell-phone instead of something silly or useless like a keychain.” He finishes in a rush and takes a breath.

“...Oh,” the man breathes out softly, his eyes wide with awe. Then he frowns. “Wait. How did you know about the Call of Duty thing?”

“He’s a teenager,” Kakashi snorts. “Of course he’s into fucking CoD.”

“Ugh, true,” the man laughs, relaxing in Kakashi’s arms, which he, admittedly, doesn’t want to remove. “God, is there anything you don’t know?”

“Your name and number,” Kakashi blurts out, then immediately wants to slap himself. What is he, an idiot? Hitting on this man right after he’s been accosted by his ex? That’s just...it was just-

“Damn, that was smooth.” The man leans back in his lap, looking him up and down, considering. “...I’d say you earned the name, at least. I’m Iruka.”

“Kakashi. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Iruka cocks his head and hums. “You know, it was kinda hot when you went all Sherlock like that.”

“My friends wouldn’t agree,” Kakashi scoffs, deciding his arms feel quite good where they are, as does Iruka. “Especially after I ruined Asuma and Kurenai’s surprise pregnancy announcement-”

“You didn’t.”

“I thought it was obvious! Her feet were swollen!”

Iruka laughs so hard he almost falls out of Kakashi’s lap.

Almost.

“Anyway,” Iruka says once he can breathe properly again, “thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend, I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,” Kakashi replies with cheer. “I was more than happy to offer my services.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind keeping up the act until my ex leaves, or I do?” Iruka asks, nodding at the shadows where Mizuki is slumped over a beer, glaring at them. “What are your going rates?”

“I’ll give you a discount,” Kakashi tells him. “My only payment is you stay in my lap the entire time.”

“Deal.” Iruka grins wickedly up at him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and getting comfortable. “Although, as my pretend boyfriend, you should totally buy me a drink.” Kakashi grins back.

“Sure thing, babe.”

Maybe he won’t have to pretend for long.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twenty-Four Prompt: Fake Dating)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #Fake Dating #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #kakashi is a smooth mother fucker #but not really

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nagisa-shiota-worthy-shit · 3 years

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Tinder Matches

Karmagisa Week 2021, day 1 prompt: Matching wordcount: 1600

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The fact that Nagisa had a tinder account wasn’t something he really shared with anyone. At the time, he’d created it as a joke, a way of amusing his friend’s stupid suggestion. According to Kayano, it truly could be the solution to his lack of experience in the love life department. Nagisa hadn’t been too sure about that. He was more than aware of the application’s status and, no, he wasn’t really interested in finding people to just have sex with.

Yet, somehow, he still found himself swiping through people on the app one night. He was alone in his room, a little bored, and perhaps even a little too tired after a day’s worth of teaching. None of the people he came across really interested him much, although he had to admit that he’d probably give them a shot if he saw them in real life, just because he wanted to believe in the best in people.

This app, however, gave little to no information on someone’s personality. Then again, some people were very clear about looking for someone rich to provide for them, which Nagisa guessed his teacher’s salary wasn’t exactly right for, and he supposed that also said something about their personality and what they were like in a relationship. Nothing Nagisa really wished to deal with.

After swiping left on complete strangers in fear of one secretly being a stalker, murderer, or just having horrible table manners, he suddenly stopped when a familiar face popped up on his screen. the red hair, the golden eyes, that all too familiar smirk. Nagisa recognized exactly who he was seeing, yet somehow couldn't exactly process the idea. it just didn't seem entirely right.

Someone like Karma wouldn't need to use tinder, right?

He found himself staring at the title picture for a while before he realized he could scroll through and see more. it wasn't like he didn't know what karma looked like... but... he sure was curious about what karma was putting out there.

It didn't appear to be all that special at first. A selfie in a casual outfit, a picture of him at a bar with people Nagisa didn't recognize, a traveling picture, but the last picture was something else. This picture appeared professionally taken, or at the very least it wasn't a selfie and the picture was set up. Karma was posing in it, after all. Posing in a suit, the jacket in his hand, thrown over his shoulder as he glanced at the camera with those devilish eyes. Nagisa was nothing but taken back by it.

He shouldn't be staring, should he? This was his close friend and fellow assassin graduate, the staring was just weird. Yet, somehow, he couldn't look away from the picture and thought back to when he’d first met Karma, so many years ago now. He’d felt the same sense of awe back then. Karma was just so perfect, how couldn’t he. This picture, him as an adult looking like a literal model, was like a visual representation of everything Nagisa used to feel Karma was.

The sudden noise of the train passing near his apartment woke him up from his state. suddenly turning very red, he frantically moved his hands and went to swipe left, except his phone nearly fell out of his hands in the process. He caught it, hands all over the screen and, through his own fingers, he could see Karma being swiped right.

no. no nonono. please go back

Nagisa fumbled with his phone, hoping to undo his actions, but before he could do anything, a message popped up on the screen. He was surprised by it to say the least.

‘you've got a match’

A match. He matched. but that meant... Karma had swiped right on him as well?! why would he- probably as a joke. he probably came across nagisa and thought it was funny, right? Nagisa had to assume that was the truth, although deep in his mind a thought echoed around saying the exact opposite. Maybe he wanted it to not be a joke.

After panicking for a hot minute, his phone made a ping sound, indicating he’d gotten a message. He was too scared to look. Somehow, before even opening the message, he could already sense who it was from. Sure enough, once he finally did gather the courage to check the notification, his fears were proven right. This was the worst situation.

Karma: well well well, didnt take you as the tinder type

He considered ignoring it. What was that called again? Ghosting? Yes, he could ghost Karma. If he didn’t respond to the message, perhaps nothing else unfavourable would be happening. Well, Karma would probably mention it to him the next time they spoke in real life. That would probably be even worse. It wasn’t like he could ignore Karma for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like he wanted to.

Nagisa: i'm not

Karma: yet here you are.

Karma: swiping right on me ;)

The cockiness almost oozed out of the message. Nagisa was left frowning at his phone. The main thought going through his mind was that Karma was probably enjoying this. He was a sadist like that. He was having fun while Nagisa wanted to bury himself as deep underground as possible.

Nagisa: you swiped right first!

Nagisa: mine was an accident

Nagisa: I was surprised to see you on here and my phone dropped

Karma: ah, so you wouldn't swipe right on me :( am I too ugly?

Nagisa felt his face grow hot. He probably shouldn't look at his reflection if he wanted to save himself from the image of his head being a tomato. He didn't think karma was ugly. quite the opposite, actually. Not that he could say that. That would be weird. So, he tried to find some middle ground answer, not calling karma ugly or the opposite of that.

Nagisa: I never said that, I just didn't intend to swipe right on someone i'm already friends with.

There, no way that could be taken wrong. He considered sending an additional message, clarifying just how dropping his phone led to the swiping right, but decided against it. It would sound just a little too defensive.

Karma: well,its nice this gives us a chance to talk again anyways. appears youve been too busy to answrr my texts.

An awkward laugh escaped Nagisa as he looked away from his phone, forgetting Karma couldn't actually see his reaction. There was no reason to avoid eye contact when there was no eye contact to begin with. Still, he shared the sentiment. He kind of had forgotten to keep contact with people lately.

He blamed the new workplace. After finishing his days as a trainee, the new school he worked at was surprisingly more demanding. He always knew being a full time teacher was a lot of work, especially now that there was no one to keep an eye on him and remind him of certain teaching specifics of the school he taught at. Of course, the work was rewarding enough for him to barely think about his loss of contacts. He had a habit of treating those too loosely anyways.

Nagisa: ive just been working

Karma: workaholic

Nagisa: you literally have more work hours than me

Karma: and somehow you still spend as much time working as me.

The conversation went on like that for a bit, them going back and forth at each other. Overall, it wasn't a bad time. Nagisa kind of forgot about the actual use of the app, and the fact that he could just DM Karma on line whenever he wanted to, until Karma managed to bring back the conversation to it.

Karma: you know, usually when people match, they try to meet up for a date

Of course Nagisa was aware that that's what the app was for, it was sort of the reason he’d gotten it as well. However, he didn't think anything would lead anywhere for him, let alone with karma. surely karma wasn't being serious. it would be weird to go on a date with your friend.

and still, Nagisa endulged him, being so stupid as to ask further.

Nagisa: where do people even go on tinder dates?

Karma: anywhere they want to, usually just for drinks, easy way to lead them home a little tipsy afterwards

Nagisa: okay that sounds creepy

Karma: if that's not your style I could always take you out for dinner.

Karma: There's this new sushi restaurant near my place, looks like something you'd love.

somehow, he actually considered it. On any other day, that would sound insane to nagisa. Since when would he consider dating karma? Wait, not dating, going on a date with Karma. There was a difference. Sushi did sound great, and so did Karma's company. He supposed he hadn't really been out like that in a while. date or not.

Karma: i can even pick you up, very romantic

The word hit Nagisa a little hard. Romantic. What would that entail? Would they sit opposite of each other, send cute glances, maybe even hold hands beside the table? He wanted his mind to hate the idea of that, doing those things with his friend, ruining the relationship they already had. But, he also wanted to give in, say yes, and see where things would lead. At the very least, he'd have a fun night with good food.

Nagisa: you have a day in mind?

Karma: how's Saturday?

Nagisa: Saturday's fine

Karma: it's a date!

#KarmagisaWeek21 #Karma Akabane #Nagisa Shiota #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #KaruNagi #karmagisa #fanfiction #fanfic #shipweek #anime #manga

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cyoc49 · 3 years

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HIMBO Magazine: The New Hire

23 year-old Barry Allen looked across the street at the office building of HIMBO, a lifestyle & fashion magazine targeted at gay men, and the site of his job interview. After graduating last May, Barry has tried for months to find a communications job with no luck, until he saw HIMBO’s advertisement for an entry-level social media position. The pay was unbelievably good, and they reached out to him about applying which made the whole situation seem very promising. He was a little uncomfortable about the idea of working at a gay magazine. I don’t have any issue with gay people, Barry thought, I just don’t understand a lot of the culture and I’m not really trying to. Still, the job was too good to pass up without at least interviewing.

Barry walked into the lobby of the building and was directed on how to reach the HIMBO’s offices. Stepping into the elevator, Barry thought about how sharply dressed everyone in the building was. It made him feel a little unprofessional, in his blazer, checkered shirt, and jeans. But the email had told him to dress “Appropriately for his position,” so he dressed the way he knew modern social media teams did.

As the elevator opened, Barry was greeted by the bright offices of HIMBO. The personnel working there (all male, he noticed) were dressed in a mixture of ridiculously eccentric business wear, speedos and harnesses, club outfits, other other bizarre fashions. “I’m guessing those are models?” Barry wondered, before walking over to a desk attended by a swishy receptionist.

The twinkish secretary looked up at Barry, and his eyes widened in excitement. “You must be the new applicant!” He exclaimed, jumping up out of his seat. “Oh, you’re perfect! He always knows the right people to pick. Well knock on wood, but I’m excited to work with you!” Then in a swift motion, the man darted around the desk and grabbed Barry by the hand. “Here, I can take you to him! He’s been waiting for you. I’m James, by the way! I work the desk!” And with that, Barry found himself being dragged along through the HIMBO offices.

“Uh, I have a question. Who is ‘he’?” Barry called along as he tried to keep pace with the fast-paced James.

“Christian Le Maître, the Editor in Chief! He’s brilliant. He does all the interviews and hiring himself. He’s the one who reached out to you.”

Wow, he picked me out himself, Barry thought, I must really be promising.

Barry spoke up “That’s pretty cool, to have a boss that cares that much.”

James nodded enthusiastically “Oh yes, he cares for us all so much! We’re all his boys here.”

Looking past the odd use of “boys”, Barry continued “I’m, uh, applying for a social media position.”

“Oh okay, interesting,” James said with less enthusiasm than usual, “He’ll sometimes try to figure out a different position for you during the interview. Just go along with what he says. I promise he has your best interests at heart.”

Before Barry could ask what that meant, James came to a sudden stop in front of a large heavy door. He knocked on it several times, before a deep muffled voice called out “Send him in” from behind the door.

James turned around, grinning ear to ear “Okay, best of luck! Remember: you’re gonna fit in here.” With that, he pranced back down the hallway, leaving Barry alone in front of the door.

He took a deep breath. “Well, here goes nothing,” he thought, and opened the door.

Walking into the office, Barry looked behind the desk and saw one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen.

His face was rugged and handsome, with insatiably curious eyes, perfect white teeth, and a beard that was just the right amount of stubble. His hair was parted with gel into a professional, clean, and gorgeous haircut. His toned muscles perfectly filled out his expensive looking business clothes: a light blue silk dress shirt, grey pinstripe pants, suspenders hung over his shoulders and pressed out by his chest, gorgeous-smelling black leather dress shoes, and a sterling silver watch. He was an absolute alpha male, so perfectly handsome and successful that Barry couldn’t help but feel awe, jealousy, and a hint of... lust?

The man looked at Barry and smiled a perfect smile. “Barry, is it? I’m Christian La Maître, but everyone around here just calls me Mr. M.” The man stood up, revealing his daunting 6’4 frame, and extended a muscular hand to Barry

Jesus, his voice is intoxicating, Barry swooned. It was so smoothly deep and inviting. With just the few words Barry already felt like he could listen to the man for hours. He reached out and took hold of Mr. M’s hand for an extremely firm handshake. As their hand touched, Barry felt a jolt, and found himself unable to take his eyes off the powerful man before him. And more importantly, he had no desire to move his eyes away.

Mr. M sat back down again. “So Barry, tell me about yourself. College graduate?”

“Uh, yes. Digital Communications maj-“

“Have you ever read HIMBO before?” Mr. M cut Barry off.

“No, sir” Barry said, neither objecting to being interrupted, nor noticing the “sir” he just said.

“Are you gay?” Mr. M examined Barry’s body up and down, never making eye contact.

“No, sir. I’m straight.” He paused “Is that okay?”

Mr. M let out a hearty laugh, and Barry found himself laughing along with the man too. It just felt right. This brilliant, perfect businessman that Barry was lucky enough to be in the presence of, anything he did had to be right.

“Ahhh, Barry. You’re a fun kid. Now unfortunately, that social media position was filled earlier this morning by another applicant. But I would be a fool not to bring you into the HIMBO team, Barry!” This filled Barry with joy. The approval of Mr. M felt so good.

“Now if I think about it...” Mr. M paused for a few moments, giving Barry another thorough looking over, “I think we have an opening in the accounting department.”

“Yes! I accept!” Barry shouted out. He didn’t even care that it was a totally different position than he had come here for, nor did he care that he had zero accounting experience. If Mr. M said he would be a good accountant, then Barry had to be the best accountant for his boss.

The man chuckled again. “There’s just a little on boarding we’d have to do to get you ready for the position. Beginning with dress code, for starters.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes, sir?” Barry asked eagerly. He would do anything for this man, who was offering him a coveted job at HIMBO magazine. Barry would change anything about himself.

“Well, you just dress so... cool. I mean look at that outfit! You are a hip young man who is ready for a good night out. And I love that for you, but I think a good accountant would dress a bit... sharper.”

The “sharper” bounced around in Barry’s head. Visions of men in suits and ties flooded his mind. He began to feel attracted to the idea of being a finely dressed man. In fact, he couldn’t imagine ever dressing down, not even in his free time. As Barry listened to Mr. M’s words, his plaid shirt rippled into a crisp white dress shirt. It tucked itself into his jeans.

“A good smart accountant would look his best at all times.”

Barry’s jeans turned into tight fitting grey dress pants, and a brown leather belt cinched itself firmly around his waist. His casual wool blazer morphed into a clean grey suit jacket matching his pants. Underneath, a gray sweater materialized and hugged itself to Barry’s slimming build.

“A good, clean-cut accountant.”

Barry felt his feet shift as his shoes changed into well-polished brown leather dress shoes, with wing tips. His socked changed to clean white socks, and inside his pants he felt briefs take form around his shrinking manhood.

“A good, nerdy accountant.”

A red bow tie wrapped itself around Barry’s neck and tied itself into a perfect knot. Large round glasses popped up on Barry’s face, which he knew he needed to wear every day. Barry’s hair ruffled as if wind was blowing through it, before settling in a clean side part, well-combed and maintained.

Barry stood before the incredibly powerful man before him looking totally different. Just 10 minutes ago Barry had dressed like any college graduate, but now looked as if he wore a suit every day of the week. But as for Barry himself, he had never felt better. As his clothes changed, Barry’s thoughts realized how right this felt. Barry now perfectly remembered his 2 hour morning dress routine. He knew exactly how much pomade to use to achieve the perfect side part, he remembered tying bow ties for six years now. His home wardrobe, all of it, had been replaced with suits, sweaters, shirts, dress shoes, and bow ties of every material, pattern, and color imagineable. This was the way he had dressed ever since he got to college and felt he could express himself truly. The truth was Barry loved the feel of a suit. The cleanness and dignity were an intoxicating feeling, and he couldn’t imagine himself in anything else.

Mr. M smiled a big smile. “There we go, an absolute perfect fit for our accountant opening. Welcome to the HIMBO team, Barry. Or should I say Bartholomew.”

That was right. Bartholomew Pippin, and he couldn’t be happier. He was a timid, nerdy kind of guy, sure, but he felt on top of the world. Bartholomew was an avid HIMBO reader for its good guides on men’s formalwear (and also so he could jerk off to the photos of shirtless guys), so to work at the magazine he loved, doing the job he loved (accounting) was a dream come true.

Mr. M stood up and walked over to Bartholomew, getting extremely close to him. “There’s just one last step in the hiring process...”

Barty shook a bit as he looked up at the domineering man before him. Mr. M was a tall man to begin with, but at his new height Bartholomew was 5’9, and the taller man encompassed him.

“I seal all my contracts... with a kiss.”

Barry’s knees quivered. He had realized he was gay at a young age, but aside from a few “almosts” in college, he had never gone farther than holding hands. Bartholomew had always reasoned that he would meet the right one eventually... and looking up at this man, Barty knew he had found it. Mr. M was all Barty would ever need. This man would control his work life and his sex life, dictating when Barty could pleasure himself, when he could come, and when he got the ultimate privilege of spending the night with Mr. M.

Bartholomew wrinkled his note and nodded eagerly “Of course, sir. I would be honored to kiss you.

As Barty stood on his tip toes to kiss his new boss - god, his lips were smooth and perfect - Barty felt all his changes lock into place. This is who he was. Bartholomew Pippin, mild-mannered accountant of HIMBO magazine, and one of Christian La Maître’s very good boys.

The two parted, and Mr. M gave Bartholomew another killer smile. “Bartholomew, I can already tell you’re gonna fit in here perfectly. And as a signing bonus, how about you stop by my place tonight. 7 PM sharp.”

“Oh thank you so much, Mr. M! I’ll be there at 6:45, I promise.”

“That’s a good boy, Barty. Now get settled in, your desk is at the end of the hall.” He gave Barty a spank on his bubble butt, and sent him on his way, to his new job and new life.

#gaytf #preppy #gay #preppy tf #preppytf #stepfordization #nerd #suittf #bowtie #the flash #barry allen #the flash tf #grant gustin

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