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jiminjamms · 2 years

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sex therapy :: 12. troublemakers

chapter tags/warnings: they love fighting over their favorite toy. pet names. manipulation undertones. possessiveness. infidelity/adultery. strong language. mentions of guns. humiliation. classism.

word count: 4.7k

notes: thank you for the wait and hope you learn a bit about our favorite boys. as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

The door flew open an hour later, the knob crashing against the wall followed by a ferocious holler.

“Sukuna, you asshole! I’ve been looking everywhere for you, and…what the—?”

You first stirred awake from the ruckus.

Rising from the couch’s comfort, you sluggishly rubbed at your eyes and sat up to see a much exasperated Choso from the halls staring in. This must have been quite a scene for an unsuspecting person like him: his beloved plus-one all over his therapist colleague, your dress now crinkled and makeup runny.

Poor Choso even appeared confused for a moment, his lips partially agape while his brows were furrowed, not quite processing the sight just yet.

That was, until his observant gaze shifted to the spotty coating over your thighs.

When he stared for just a moment longer, his right eyelid finally twitched at the display.

Oh, he got the idea all right.

When the recently awoken Sukuna uprighted himself as well and noticed the envy on Choso’s face, the egomaniac grinned wildly. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite grizzly bear,” he taunted and patted at his free thigh. “Wanna join? Three’s not a crowd.”

And that was when Choso’s fury really exploded.

His aura quickly and dramatically shifted from that of earlier this evening, his compassion and patience clearly gone when he approached you in deliberate steps, grabbing at your wrist and pulling you from the couch.

Good lord, it really wasn’t supposed to go down like this. You had come here to accompany a local sex therapist for a brief evening, to relieve some personal stress.

Look at yourself now. Not only had you nearly forgotten about your host altogether, but you also abandoned him only to jump his coworker’s bones. Now, he was completely pissed.

Shielding you from view, Choso sent a hostile and unforgiving glare to the pink-headed man.

“I brought her in as my guest, Shit-kuna.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve treated her like one rather than leaving a pretty face like her by the bar,” the other countered, brushing off Choso’s possessive declarations. Even as the latter scowled, the club owner stood up and strolled over casually—hands hidden in his pockets—until the two men found each other eye-to-eye. “I don’t need the cops here again like last week, so keep your eyes on your girls. There could always be men with ulterior motives at this nightclub.”

“Like yourself?”

Oof.

“Calm down, dude.” Something in Sukuna’s composure told you that this wasn’t the first time he had to deal with Choso’s ill temper. “I probably took care of your guest better than you could’ve. Maybe should learn a thing or two.”

As short-fused as Choso could be, he grudgingly silenced himself when he couldn’t go against the truth.

“Besides,” Sukuna continued when his co-worker went quiet, “where did you go?”

“Business,” Choso simply said, dark eyes hollow and an eerie hush hung in the air as though there was an immediate understanding between the two. And when you suddenly noticed the stench of blood, sweat, and smoke, you think you understood them too…but that could just be your imagination playing with you.

Sukuna didn’t comment much further either. “Well then,” he began, changing courses, “what do you need me for? Seemed like you’d been looking for me for a while.”

“Meeting. Same place as usual,’” and just in case his colleague would find a reason to delay, Choso added, “Now.”

In response, Sukuna flicked his burgundy gaze in your direction.

The girl’s still here, he seemed to tell the other man.

Oh, they wanted you out.

That was totally okay, expected even. There were no hard feelings because what would a mere housewife have to do with their business matters, if it wasn’t her money?

Smoothing the fabric of your dress, you readied to leave without disturbance, a practice you had honed given the many times Naoya would wave his hand to dismiss you.

But a sturdy grasp seized your wrist and stopped you.

Gaze traveling upward, your eyes halted at Choso’s deep and velvety ones. “And where do you think you’re going, kid?”

Confused, words stopped short in your throat. “I thought…,” a quick glance at Sukuna (who was no help at all) and you continued, “If you have a meeting, I’d just call a taxi home.”

“No,” Choso dryly declared. “There are orders that you’re also coming with us.”

“Me?” Often overshadowed by the financial and political prowess of your executive husband, you didn’t think someone else would ever find interest in your presence. “Sure that you have the right person?”

“Yes, you,” he repeated, this time slightly more annoyed. “You’re coming with us, bimbo. Oh, and don’t even think about running away from me again. Normally, I’m a good guy. But I won’t be nice if I have to punish troublemakers like you. Understood?”

He meant it, you knew. Choso would have no problem breaking a bone with that strong grip of his. His hand already tightened like a vice around your wrist. To ensure that his intentions were understood, he lowered his head such that the tip of his nose nearly brushed yours, the black sea in his eyes raging with violent waves.

“Understood?” he seethed again.

“Under…stood.” Gosh, this man must be insane.

Before the conversation could progress further, Sukuna took matters into his own hands and tore Choso’s hand from yours.

“Read the room. Can’t you tell that you’re scaring her, idiot?” Relief surged into your system when the club manager rescued you from the standoff, his charisma a potion that never failed to place you at ease. “Hasn’t Geto told you to play nice with our clients? Unlike you, not everyone likes to play rough.” Sukuna then beckoned to the door. “Why don’t I meet you at our office instead, Choso? Maybe you can surprise everyone by actually being early.”

That last note must have irked Choso again from the way his knuckles turned white.

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m older than you.”

“By three months. Congratulations.” There was nothing like fighting fire with fire. At this point, Sukuna appeared torn between amusement and orneriness as he rotated between suppressed smirks and malignant glares. “I’m sure, then, since you’re older…that you can follow my orders in my own establishment.”

Several silent seconds later, Choso finally relented. He muttered a loaded string of profanities but eventually grumbled, “Fine.” Shoving through the narrow gap between you and Sukuna right, he turned around one last time to order angrily, “but you grab Geto.”

Sukuna chortled lightly as his fellow sexpert disappeared and twisted at his bubblegum bangs in an idle fashion.

“In case you haven’t noticed already, Kamo is just like that,” he explained, referring to his colleague by last name. “Don’t take the things he says too personally, ’kay? I’m sure he meant no harm.”

“I see,” you totally lied and were thankful that your current escort didn’t mention the skepticism that was all too obvious in your tone.

Instead, as the chivalrous knight he made himself out to be, Sukuna politely placed a large hand at the small of your back and steered you out.

“Anyway, if there are orders for you,” he added by the doorway, “this only means you might be interested in what we got to say, right?”

“…I guess.”

Even if you could care less for whatever their little meeting was about, even if you thought it suspicious that several men sought company from some young heiress like you, restless curiosity was what compelled you to obey.

When you arrived again at the nightclub’s main hall, the crowd was louder than you remembered. Nothing could rile people more than the combination of good tequilas and The Weeknd remixes.

“Oh, there Geto is,” Sukuna lamely announced just several steps in, much quicker than anticipated. Following his line of vision, you quickly realized why.

Spotting Suguru was as easy as identifying a flamingo amid a flock of swans: his style was as eccentric as you remembered it, his neon pink Hawaiian shirt striking in a sea of duller hues.

But Suguru Geto wasn’t the only person who caught your attention.

He had…a girl? That shouldn’t be too surprising, but here you were—staring like a dumbfounded stalker. From your interactions with him, Geto was a complete flirt, a man who loved to be controlled rather than control himself. This woman, though…

Why did she appear so familiar?

“Shoko Ieiri,” Sukuna explained out of the blue when, in reality, he had seen right through your prolonged puzzlement. “She’s his client.”

Oh, that’s right. When you first met Geto, Shoko was the giggling woman who that therapist couldn’t stop staring at. No doubt that those fresh lipstick marks which you had last seen him with were from her too.

It was clear why Geto must be infatuated with her.

Shoko had thick chestnut hair tied from her face with one long ponytail, her soft brown eyes twinkling when Geto pressed her chest against his own. With a foxy smile, Shoko wrapped her arms around Geto's neck and murmured something into his piercing-studded ears. The man laughed and extended his tongue. As though that was what she had requested, Shoko grinned wider and latched her lips on the warm muscle. At some point, you had to attend to something different because the salacious scene felt like something you weren’t supposed to watch.

"They’re disgusting, right?" Sukuna sneered, but the smile on his lips confirmed that he was in fact a voyeur who loved the scene. "I wouldn’t be surprised if Geto gets some of that action on the weekends. He probably fools around more than actually working at the clinic that Shoko leads.”

A clinic? They were physicians?

“What field of medicine do they work in? Pediatrics?” It was a wild guess, but the doctor duo seemed to be people who could be good with kids.

Sukuna, however, scrunched his brows at your silly supposition. “No,” he snorted as though he was offended. “They’re gynecologists.”

Pupils blown wide, you sputtered, “Geto?”—and more importantly— “in gynecology?”

The uninvited imagery in your head was more vivid than you would like, one where Geto would be between a patient’s legs, examining a splayed woman simply to assess the health of her reproductive organs.

“What about it, hm?” Unlike you, Sukuna found no peculiarity in the subject. “Geto didn’t graduate in the top two of his medical school for nothing. The only person who topped him in his class was Shoko. That didn’t hurt his pride much because we all know Geto loves cute girls with sexy ass brains.”

You pondered at the thought because Geto did appear to be the type who would be into bright and confident women, fitting for a nerd-in-hiding himself. “Does she feel the same about him, though?” you casually questioned when your eyes accidentally landed on the outright PDA again.

“Oh, for sure. Shoko comes for a consultation once a week at least, booking appointments with only Geto for as long as I could remember. They've been flirting with each other since high school, did you know that?"

No, you didn't know.

You whirled around with astonishment. “High school?”

“I know.”

“Wow.” How many years was that?

If Geto and Shoko completed their medical education in Japan, that would have to be six years at least. Have they known each other for seven years, then? Eight? Jealousy pricked at your skin just trying to conjure a number. Must be nice, given how you only knew your husband from the few obligatory company events before your own wedding. “Those two must go way back.”

“Exactly. And Geto’s stupid because, like," a loud huff, "like dude, stop fucking around already. We all know that she’s entirely your type. We all know that she's a keeper. We all know she’s the one."

Glancing at the steamy pair, Sukuna noticed how Geto grabbed Shoko's ass in hand while the other roamed up to her tits.

"Okay enough!" Sukuna shouted after a gag, unintentionally bringing bystanders’ eyes to the increasingly NSFW scene. "Goddamn, you guys are gross. Get a fucking room, Geto! There's literally a Ritz Carlton across the—no, shit. I forgot. You’re actually coming with me, bro.”

Suguru didn’t catch any of that. It wasn’t until a silver-haired man nearby shook the therapist to his senses and pointed in your direction that Suguru even noticed Sukuna’s presence several meters away, his inky eyes all hazy and still dawdling over his precious girlfriend.

“He’ll follow us, don’t worry,” Sukuna surmised while watching his colleague mutter something to a similarly dazed Shoko. “Let’s just go.”

Like a helpless duckling, you attempted to match Sukuna’s tremendous strides as he kept his arm across your back, leading you into a sectioned area right off the bar. The halls were completely dark save for the LED strips running through the ceiling and floor, casting a purple-pink glow over the vicinity.

When Sukuna brought you a heavy-looking door at the very end, he removed his hold on your waist and grabbed the knob.

“We’re here.”

The door swung open to a world that bore no resemblance to the low-beamed corridor you arrived from. It was a beige-walled meeting room, one seemingly designed for comfort, work, and modernity. In the middle was one gray granite table with exactly five matching chairs around it—one at the head and two at each side. Across from everything situated a wooden bookshelf, brimming with a full library while miscellaneous papers and folders were neatly stacked at the lowest rack. As you stepped in, the floor was plush under your block heels, carpeted and luxurious.

Fulfilling his promise, Choso had been waiting patiently. He had taken the closest seat that directly faced the door, his sharp obsidian eyes quietly sending daggers across the room. In an absent-minded way, he tinkered with a handgun on the table—the same firearm from his car, you assumed (unless he had more). Squinting harder into his glare, Choso pulled the slide back before the part returned to its original position with a resounding click.

“The mag’s empty,” Choso declared as though he detected your fear. “No ammunition here.”

As if you’d believe him.

Meanwhile, Sukuna just casually strolled to the seat directly across from Choso as though he didn’t find the occurrence strange at all. You, however, weren’t crazy enough to sit anywhere near a weapon wielder and perked up when you spotted the empty seat next to Sukuna as the safest bet.

Except Geto got there first.

��Hey, hey, honeybee,” he beamed when he brushed against you at the doorway. His tone was that of an old friend, not of a reproductive health doctor slash sex therapist who you had seen making out with his top client just minutes ago.

Confidently, Geto strode past you with his all-too-familiar smile, his signature peppermint-rosemary cologne wafting behind him. He acknowledged Choso with a ‘wow, you’re on-time for once’ and greeted the birthday boy with some sort of intricate handshake, all before he claimed your site-of-interest.

Well, there went Plan B.

Knowing full well that taking the spot immediately next to Choso might as well be a death wish, you took a direct route to the head of the table—the only other available seat.

This time, though, Choso verbally stopped you. “Not there,” he gruffed while now rubbing the rectangular tattoo across his nose bridge. “That one’s already taken.”

“Oh,” you mouthed, lips forming a circle to signal your surprise. There were assigned seats at this table?

With his chin, Choso then motioned to the one remaining seat next to him. “Butt down here. No one sits there anymore.”

Anymore, huh?

Neither Sukuna nor Geto protested in your favor.

Cautiously, you walked over and plopped into the leather office chair with the sophistication of a walrus. Did it really matter where you sat? This wasn’t a high school classroom or anything. Then, why did they have to make such an enormous deal out of—

“What’s up, boss?”

In the end, it was Suguru’s chirping voice that knocked your vexed thoughts loose.

Boss?

Puzzled, you whirled around to see no one other than Toji Fushiguro entering the premises. As Toji closed the door behind him with a quiet thud, you realized that he was the only therapist whom you hadn’t seen all night. On a typical evening, awkwardness would suck at your soul upon seeing him, the man who you had shared one too many scandal-worthy affairs with, the same person whom you refused to sexually involve yourself with any further (only for you to break your resolve with Sukuna instead, oops).

Toji, meanwhile, carried the same professional confidence that he seemed to always hold, his movements purposeful while proceeding to the front of the table, a position where he could oversee all. He did his little trick again, the one where he would spin an office chair on its axis before he sat down in one fluid motion.

From your angle, you noticed that even his outfit was something seemingly precise. Strong legs were spread apart, clad in black denim and braced on the carpeted floor, ending in dark leather loafers. A white Ralph Lauren sweater covered what would have been a mural of carefully etched tattoos, and his black hair was glossed back, his jawline angled and squared.

Any doubts about Toji’s central role were dissolved when you noticed the mood shift remarkably, a sudden seriousness enveloping the vicinity. This was the first time you had seen all four sex therapists in the same room, and for a moment, only silence clung to the walls.

Toji was the first to speak. “Good evening.”

When he scanned the room, the seafoam green in his eyes appeared to glow when he spotted you, all pretty in your pink dress. Although he addressed the table, it almost felt like he was only talking to you. Had you blinked, you would have also missed the way his gaze flickered to the telling white spots on your thighs, but he chose to not comment on them directly. Yet.

“Well,” you chimed, forcing Toji to have his eyes up here rather than roaming in places where they shouldn’t be. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t necessarily want to participate in this meeting, you know.”

“That doesn’t matter now that you’re already here, doesn’t it?” Toji countered as his colleagues listened.

Involuntarily, you swallowed hard.

Since when did he have such an unnerving effect on you? It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d talked to him, but the firmness in his tone was almost uncharacteristic. Come to think of it, his mannerisms reminded you of someone. Of Naoya? Perhaps. But where exactly was Toji trying to go with this conversation?

When he took your prolonged silence as a response, Toji slowly straightened up in his seat, his posture akin to that of a robed Roman senator.

“People told me that you were at Teyvat, and I simply thought that it wouldn’t hurt for you to spend quality time with us given that we therapists all convene here every week at this time.” He leaned forward slightly. “Besides, you and I…we’re friends, remember? And friends hang out, young lady.”

In a place like this? Totally.

Despite Toji’s pursuits to soothe, one thought nagged at the back of your mind. "Stop it with this ‘friends’ crap. If you were really my friend, Toji, you’d tell me why you wanted me here.” Mustering the guts to challenge the status quo wasn’t easy, and you exhaled deeply to regulate your incoming tantrum. “Know what? In all honesty, I don't know you. Or any of your buddies here, frankly. In fact—”

“University of Tokyo.”

The new answerer came from nowhere.

Perplexed, you looked over to see that it was Geto. He had his man bun scrunched up in one large hand, and when he discerned the fusillade of questions in your gaze, he one-by-one pointed to selected participants at the table. “Sukuna, Economics. Choso, Mechanical Engineering. And me, Biology.”

“What…?” At first, you were befuddled. However, the puzzle slowly came together when you began to understand that Geto had listed names followed by what sounded like college majors. “You…three went to UTokyo?”

Attending what was widely acclaimed to be the most selective and prestigious university in Japan was nothing short of a gargantuan feat, which was what made you altogether more baffled when then Sukuna nodded and added, “Graduated five years ago.”

“Are you serious?” Okay, your reaction might have registered as offensive, but why had you not known about this earlier? No, wait. This information must have been under the sex therapy clinic’s ‘Staff Profiles’ webpage, which you really should have checked out long, long ago but didn’t.

Meanwhile, Sukuna smiled. “We’re impressive, I know." Snooty as always. “We’re smart cookies. Plus, we’re not your regular therapists. We’re sex therapists.” He then leaned dramatically across the table, even lifting himself from his seat. “Well, that must mean you know what we specialize in, right?”

It was a rhetorical question, but he paused for effect, his maroon gaze ablaze amid the inky designs on his features.

Next to him, Geto dragged Sukuna down. He had that smile again, the one where his dark eyes disappeared into beautiful half-moons, but it was clear that he seemed sorry for his colleague’s misbehavior.

“Listen, Y/N, you make a valid argument,” Geto elaborated, addressing your original concern. “We can’t be friends when you don’t even know us. You’ve probably realized by now that there’s more to what meets the eye—that sex therapy isn’t the only thing we do. If you’re really that curious...” He first tipped his head toward the person to his right. “For starters, we wouldn’t even be here if Sukuna didn’t outright own this nightclub.”

The mentioned businessman, whose ego was most certainly stroked, smiled proudly. “I’m sure she’s figured that out by now, Captain Obvious.”

“Right, but even though Tokyo’s Roppongi is Sukuna’s main hub, Teyvat’s other locations in Kyoto and Osaka are constantly ranked as top nightlife destinations in their respective regions.” How Geto kept his cool while still dishing out compliments was a mystery. He must be a really nice guy. Either that, or he was wondrously talented at faking it ‘till he made it.

Nonetheless, Geto turned to his next target. “Now about Choso,” he began as his dark eyes noticed Choso’s supposedly empty handgun on the table. “He’s a hitman, a contract killer essentially.”

“No, I’m a mediator,” Choso corrected rather unconvincingly. “I only work when people need me to, when they have conflicts to resolve.”

Of course, this obviously made you even more grateful to take the seat immediately next to a one-man killing machine. (Not.)

Geto didn’t let you fully process much because he then gestured to himself. “As for myself, I completed my medical program four years ago. My current focus is gynecology.”

At this point, this information only served as a confirmation of what you already knew.

Now, the elephant of the room: “And you, Toji?”

Upon the ask, the said man did not immediately reply.

Surely, Toji must have expected the question, but everything told you that he had been intentional in avoiding the topic. Even the other therapists in the room seemed uncomfortable, as though you’d probed something you shouldn’t have.

Choso side-eyed the older man before turning to you. “Y/N.” His tone—it wasn’t friendly. Choso knew something you didn’t, and—given the ambiance in the room—the same could be said for the others. Why was everyone suddenly so secretive when they were openly discussing their outside work just a minute ago? “I don’t think—”

“I’m their boss,” Toji interrupted, to the surprise of many. “Aside from Megumi, whom you’d met over the phone, these guys have treated me like family more than my blood-related kin have.”

Stroking his bottom lip with an index finger, Toji paused suddenly. His gaze narrowed, eyes darkening. Why did he look at you like that? Were you supposed to say something?

“Anyway,” he resumed when he must have decided you were too slow to catch on. “I recruited these guys right when they completed their undergraduate degrees, around the time I just opened my therapy office. We’ve been working together since, for the past four years.”

Lips pursed, you arched a brow. So Toji was just their sex therapy supervisor?

No, that couldn’t be it. Given the other therapists’ stories, Toji’s own outside endeavors couldn’t just be so simple. He was tough and clever, a man who constantly seemed to hold more stories than he could tell.

“There has to be more than that,” you blurted back.

“Hey...” This time, Geto had to reign you in. His tone, like Choso’s, was steely.

When you looked back at Toji, you could see why. His usually bright eyes have gone completely cold—totally blank—as though you were staring at the side of a glacier. His lips also tightened into a despondent frown. Bit by bit, the cunning flare that fueled Toji was dimmed into an entity that was dark, solid, and unbreakable.

When he eventually responded, bitterness bled through his answer. “No, there doesn’t have to be ‘more than that,’ ma’am. I don’t understand why you would make that assumption about me. You don’t know more about my own life than I do. Rather, the situation is the other way around. You’d be surprised, in fact, by how much we know about you.”

Whatever the reason, he truly appeared infuriated that you insisted to pry into his life. Was this his form of bluffing, to challenge you?

“Well,” you huffed to match his temper, “everyone knows I’m married to—”

“Yes, Naoya Zenin, CEO of the almighty Zenin Corporation,” Toji interrupted, an inexplicable agitation clear in his gruffy voice. “Not to mention your own father, the Chief Operating Officer, is your husband’s right-hand man. Both men are C-suite executives of Japan’s largest conglomerate, a firm whose subsidiaries generated over 17% of Japan’s gross domestic product last year, a company whose market cap is only surpassed by South Korea’s Samsung Group and China’s Tencent Holdings in the Asia-Pacific region.”

He then paused, and you were stunned.

Even if he sounded like a broken record from Channel 3 News, Toji never seemed to be of the caliber to care about such knowledge. No typical layman like him would be so invested in the details of yourself and your husband’s company. “Why—"

“Your husband and your father are the leaders of the game, aren’t they?” he reckoned, cutting you off for the second time. “One wrong word in a corporate conference call, and the Nikkei 225 sinks several percentage points. They’re powerful alright. But you? What role do you play?” Sitting back into his seat, he leisurely brought one ankle over his knee. “Nothing. You’re nothing but a rich homemaker, their sidepiece in the grand scheme of things.”

Beside you, Choso stifled a smirk and Geto consequently kicked his coworker’s right calf under the table.

You were starting to believe Toji, that he and his sidekicks over here did—for one reason or another—saw the bigger picture when you couldn’t.

“Why…does this matter to you?” Unlike before, your voice was a little less sure of itself.

Now that he had your interest, Toji propped his elbows on the table and intertwined his figures. “Let me tell you why you’re here, then,” he clarified, the stylized vines by his temple flexing as he spoke. "We have one goal: to bring Naoya Zenin down."

Okay, Toji had gone crazy. The fact that no one else seemed surprised must have meant that this was all an elaborate set-up to get you to turn your own husband in. They were all small business owners, perhaps upset that the Zenin Corporation's near-monopoly had driven their own profits to zero. However, betraying your family, even the one linked by marriage rather than blood, laid beyond your morals.

"Listen," you warned with crossed arms, determined to not be swayed any further. "If you’re going to ramble on about some divorce bullsh—"

"Naoya Zenin is cheating on you."

𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗

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one-time-i-dreamt · 3 years

Text

Admin's dream

I myself rarely dream, but last night I had an interesting dream that I remember fairly well, so I thought I should share.

I traveled to another town for a university meeting and I was being hosted by a girl who lived there and went to a similar school to mine. We became fast friends and spent a few days exploring the city with some of her friends, who helped to show me around.

Soon, they revealed to me that they were members of an organization fighting against some shady people living there. They had a mission and took me with them, even though I wasn't fully briefed about what was going on.

It turned out that we were taking infant twins to their grandfather. With the help of my friend who also lived in that town, we got the grandfather's location. We left the twins on his door and went to spend the evening at my friend's flat.

Some of my other friends from Zagreb arrived and they took me out, and we went to a late night book signing and I got a present from a columnist I loved as a teenager. My friends went clubbing, but I kept thinking about the twins.

I went back to the place we left them, and found them to still be there, out in the cold, despite their grandfather allegedly being informed that they were out. I took off my hoodie and covered them in it and rang the door, risking revealing myself, who was already unrelated to the mentioned organization, to the "other side". For some reason, all of this should've been done in secrecy, but I didn't care anymore, because I was worried for the children.

I knew the other side was dangerous, but I thought the kids were much more important than me, as they were innocent. A handsome man arrived at the place where the twins were (which was in front of somebody's front door) and I tried to stop him to get him to take them, but he didn't even notice them.

He bared his fangs at me and I realized that he was a vampire. The street where we were at was so busy and I couldn't understand why nobody noticed the kids nor tried to help them before me, as they were crying before I came.

The man entered the house and I was left there, in the middle of the night, holding the basket with the kids, feeling extremely cold. I decided to take the kids to the police station, which was just down the street.

After I was sure they were safe, I went back to my friend's flat and found the door unlocked. I changed into something warm and went back out, because nobody was answering me and I got worried. I found my friend dead drunk and carried her home on my back.

A neighbor of hers, who was also her coworker, came out to help me. She arranged a place for me to sleep, and I went to bed and woke up early and went to meet my host. I didn't tell her what I did. I realized that none of the people from the organization went to check on the babies and they would likely have died if I didn't save them.

We went to an old aqueduct, sat on an old wall and talked. They explained to me that they were fighting against an organization of vampires and that the grandfather of the babies was also a vampire, but they were on cordial terms with him. They had some sort of a pact to eliminate his son's faction.

We went out again at night and I saw the handsome man again. Our eyes met and he smiled sinisterly, but I knew he didn't recognize me from the day before. Him and his crew were at a club, and my friend tagged along with them. I realized she intentionally gave us the wrong location so we'd give his kids back to him, but didn't bother checking on the babies herself and would've allowed them to pass away because she only cared about the father.

I had a bad feeling. Through one way or another, the father and I met and struck up an unexpected friendship. He kept teasing me like a friend would and I realized that he thought my friend brought back his babies to him.

As we became friends, he revealed to me a shocking truth - his ex was a member of my host's organization and he really loved her but she used him for information and then left him and broke his heart and didn't even tell him she was pregnant. She died on another mission and nobody wanted to take care of her babies, so the organization wanted to give them to their grandfather.

I felt sad for the handsome vampire boss because it was clear he would've forgiven his dead lover anything, if only she said she was sorry and came back to him, but she would've never done that because she didn't care for him nor did she love him.

It felt like he started falling in love with my friend. He was extremely grateful to her for saving his children and brought presents to her all the time and treated her nicely. I sometimes tagged along when they were going out with his crew and I started feeling wrong about the way she was using him. It felt like past was repeating itself, but at least I knew this friend wanted him, even if she was lying to him.

I got ready to go out with them again and I realized I was a bit jealous. That was a weird realization to me, because up until that moment, I didn't think I was falling for the boss, but now it became apparent that I was and that I was angry at my friend for lying to him and wanting him for all the wrong reasons.

The night was windy like the first night I saw him, the cold night when I saved the twins, and I was shivering. He put his coat around me and was closer to me physically than ever before. He took a whiff of me and said he knew my perfume.

I realized it was the same perfume I was wearing on that first night. He realized that I was the one who saved his kids, but didn't say anything. His people finished getting all the surveillance images and background info on all the players involved, including me.

He found out I was an unrelated stranger who decided to help his kids when everyone else abandoned them. He started seeing me in a different light, and my friend realized that. She confronted me and told me that I shouldn't be getting involved with the supernatural and things I knew nothing about and that I should just go home while I still can.

I felt sad, but knew she was right. This wasn't my home, wasn't my place to be. I packed up my things and got ready to go back. I talked to her kind coworker and she told me that I shouldn't be listening to anyone who didn't have my best interest in mind. I also knew she was right and that my friend wasn't really my friend, she didn't really care for me. She just used me. She was the one who set me up with that host, so she could orchestrate everything through them.

I boarded a bus and waited for it to take me home, when it was stopped by a convoy of armed men. I didn't know what was going on. A man entered the bus carrying two babies. It was the man, my vampire man. He told me I was going back with him, and I got up and nodded my head. Everyone else was flabbergasted, but the vampires erased their memories.

I went back to the vampire boss' place and finally learned his real name. He told me his whole story and I realized that he was a good person underneath it all. I started to question my host's organization. The vampires weren't the bad ones in all of this, I was sure.

And I was sure that I loved this man and that he has cared for me from the first time that we met, though he felt he should be grateful to my "friend" for saving his children, and was giving her attention out of that and nothing else, but was inviting me everywhere as well because he was drawn to me as much as I was drawn to him.

I started living with him and we started getting to know one another. The children loved me and took to me right away and I adored them and adored their father as well. We grew closer by the day.

He went on a mission and didn't come back from it and his men told me he was lost in action. I was crushed and started crying and breaking things and shaking in anger, I blamed everybody including myself and was mad at them for leaving him. They went on a recovery mission and could not find any trace of him.

I waited for days and kept hoping for good news. I was sure he was still alive and that I would feel if something had happened to him. Suddenly, he had appeared. He was alive and well. He was hiding until then because he was setting a trap.

I threw myself into his embrace and started yelling at him. I told him he wasn't allowed to do that ever again because his kids loved him and I loved him and we couldn't live without him. He was so happy to hear that, because it was the first time anyone ever told him they loved him and meant it. He told me he loved me as well.

I was so happy.

I knew it was real, our love was real.

Then I woke up.

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spilledkauffie · 3 years

Text

Bingo

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.0k T/W: pure, stupid, fluff A/N: you meet Bucky at a Bingo night ft. Yori ❤︎

it’s a little dorky, but I thought it was cute!

Setting the tables with the rectangle cards, you smiled, straightening them out. Despite what your friends thought, you actually enjoyed volunteering with the local senior Bingo games on the weekends when you could. Feeling like they were often better company and far more entertaining than going to a club. It wasn’t a very big meeting hall, but that’s what made it feel so cozy to you. Hugging yourself when you finished the tables, you stroked the outside of your arms, feeling the softness of the cardigan you wore over your tank top. Sighing happily, you made your way to the announcing host, passing a few comments, as you waited for people to find their way in.

“Hey! Hey, look!” You heard a familiar voice; turning you found Yori and his usual group making their way to their table, with one exception. Smiling you made your way to him, arms still crossed, “no, I want you to meet her,” you heard him say to his friend, making you smile.

“Hey, Yori,” you said, coming to hug him, “brought more friends?”

“I- I’m Bucky,” he reached his hand to shake yours, to which you responded, taking his hand in yours.

“Barnes,” Yori added, reaching to slap a name tag on Bucky's chest.

Bucky took a deep breath, keeping his patience, as he looked down to the tag where Yori had written ‘single’ in parentheses, “yep. . .that’s me.”

“This- this is the one I told you about,” Yori nudged you on the elbow pointing to Bucky, only making him more nervous as he immediately looked down to Yori with a questioning look.

“Ohh,” you nodded slowly, squinting your eyes at Bucky who met your gaze again, “you mean the anti-social grumpy one who’s scared to come because he’ll lose? That one?”

“Yes! That one,” Yori bobbed on his heels happily with a smile.

“What -I’m not-”

“Well,” you tilted your head, “I hope you have a good time and perhaps win something,” Bucky smiled, “but I think you’re going to need your hand back for that.”

Jaw dropping, he looked down to find your hand still in his, “right,” he laughed nervously, letting go, “sorry, of course.”

You laughed quietly, biting in your lip watching him look anywhere but to you, mainly keeping his head down.

“Yori, you need anything you know where I am,” you softly placed a hand to his shoulder, “Bucky,” he looked up with a half forced smile, but you waited a moment, “it was nice to meet you, I’m glad you came.”

As you turned to walk away you could hear Yori whisper, “I think she liked you.”

Followed by a quick change of subject from his friend, “I think you should find our table.”

And lastly, “I know where our table is, and if you can keep your eyes off her, you’d see it too.”

With a giggle to yourself, you walked up to the foldable table that had been set up for you to sit at as usual. You were alone, but you were in charge of any assistance and you kept the first, second, and third prizes hidden. It was harder than one thought to keep curious seniors from nosing around for them.

While the night was long and you stayed quiet, you were very grateful to have a little more entertainment tonight. It seemed Yori and his friends got their own entertainment out of teasing and poking fun at Bucky, who was a true sport through it all.

“Absolutely not,” you heard Bucky say. Looking up you saw him holding his card to his chest, with Yori trying to convince him to let him take a peek at his numbers, “are those the rules of Bingo?” Bucky shook his head, but another one of Yori’s friends tried to peek from his opposite side, “Oh,” Bucky dropped his jaw, leaning even farther back in his chair to keep the card hidden against him, “a double front attack? Really guys?”

Unable to hide your smile, you kept an eye on the table, specifically Bucky. Who after giving the group a few amusements, looked over to you. Blinking softly, happy that he noticed you, you lifted your hand to wave subtly. With another half smile, that was genuine this time, he raised his hand to wave, but forgot just how far back he was leaning in his chair. Soon, you watched him vanish from sight and he found himself flat against the floor, with a wince.

“That’s whatcha get, you punk,” Yori told him through a laugh and an assertive nod.

It wasn’t long before there was a soft murmur of quiet laughs spreading throughout the hall, as Bucky reset his chair and sat properly in it this time. He pressed his lips together tightly and avoided everyone’s eye line, but yours. Hand over your mouth, you looked mildly worried, raising your half furrowed eyebrows at him, he could tell you were asking if he was okay. To that he carefully nodded, before turning to someone else who was addressing him at the table.

The half way break came up shortly after, and you had to help a few people. When you looked back up from your table you saw Bucky, hands in his pockets and bouncing on his heels about three people away down the small line. Leaning your head to the side to see him, it took him a moment, but when he saw you, he gave a quick smile, before being spoken to by the elderly lady in front of him.

“You’re a very handsome young man, so nice of you to come play,” she said, to which he gave a shy thank you, as she asked you for a new marker, “he’s a very handsome young man, you know,” she whispered loudly, before glancing back at him, “and she’s single you know.”

Ducking your head, you gave a monotone, “thank you, Mrs. Kasey,” putting your hands over your face, hiding the embarrassment, you composed yourself and straightened up, “hey, what can I help with?”

“Word is you got the prizes?” Bucky perked an eyebrow and gave the most obvious wink.

Half smiling, half jaw dropping, you looked around his hip to see Yori, who was keeping a curiously careful eye on his friend, shaking your head you looked up to Bucky, “so. . .they sent you? I don’t break that easily.” You crossed your arms over your chest, playfully, keeping eye contact.

“Well,” he shrugged, “to be honest I’d like to know what we’re playing for too, I mean what’s our motivation here? I don’t know,” you covered your mouth, hiding the smile accompanying your soft giggles, “Why are you laughing? This is serious. What is the purpose of playing Bingo if you don’t know the prizes?”

With a real laugh at how hard he was trying to convince you, “okay, alright,” you reached under the table bringing up the prize in your hand, elbow against the table as you held it up, he looked down.

“A jar of jelly beans,” Bucky nodded, bobbing his head back and forth before a confident, “okay, seems fair, what about second place?”

You held up a jar in the other hand.

Bucky looked between you and it, “that’s- that’s just a smaller jar of jelly beans,” he lifted his shoulders as if asking ‘why?’

“These people really like their jelly beans,” you admitted, “I figure you can guess what third place is.”

“Seriously?” he dropped his shoulders, disappointed.

“Was there something you were hoping to get instead, Mr. Barnes?” You set the jars down, resting your chin on top of your laced hands as you looked up through your eyelashes at him.

He swallowed, deciding if he wanted to say anything, he winced as if he was going to regret what he was going to say- luckily for him the announcer called everyone back to the tables. He sighed, and you leaned back in your seat as you parted ways again. The evening remained entertaining with Yori occasionally reminding everyone at the table that if Bucky wins he’d share the prize.

Towards the end of the event, Bucky was the only one at the table still in the final rounds, meaning the entire table squeezed around him, glancing at his card and intensely listening. When the last number was being called, they all had a hand on Bucky, clinging to him like it was the olympics and he was their champion.

“Seventeen” was announced and you noticed a sudden shift in Bucky’s demeanor, even though everyone around him was ecstatic, he looked like his mind was suddenly somewhere else, until he shook his head like shaking off a bad memory and he lifted his card. He didn’t have to say it, his group was already exclaiming Bingo enough for him. He came up casually with the other two, and you handed each of them a jar of jelly beans.

Bucky gave a ‘thank you,’ and took his back, but it was gone before he could even offer it to anyone.

“What’s the joke?” Yori held out the jar back to Bucky swiftly, “I can’t open it.”

Smiling, Bucky popped open the jar in no time and immediately it was out of his hands again.

“Congratulations,” you said behind him, making him turn around, he saw you had your jacket in your arms and purse over your shoulder, “I hope I’ll see you next month?” “Next month?” He tilted his head, “I thought it was weekly?”

“Volunteer rotations shift,” you explained, gesturing your hand in a circle, “I won’t be back until next month since we’ve got new volunteers.”

“Oh,” he nodded and there was silence.

“Anyway, I hope I’ll see you around,” you waved to him and to Yori as you left, pushing in the door’s brace open.

As it shut, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, with a sigh, still watching the door.

“Go,” Yori said next to him and waved him away, “you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Bucky took a moment to consider it, “take the bus okay? I don’t want you guys-”

“Yes, yes, we will,” Yori said, already turning back to his friends.

Smiling towards them, he started a jog for the door, exiting, he looked to find you. Already on the sidewalk, he met up with you. Obviously causing you to stop in your tracks and wait when you heard him.

“Hey, um-” he looked around, “can I walk you home?”

“Sure,” you nodded, smiling.

There wasn’t a terrible amount of conversation, but you liked his company and didn’t want him to feel like he had to talk.

“I think it’s really sweet what you’re doing, what you did tonight” you said, looking straight ahead, even though you knew he was looking at you, “there hasn’t been that much laughter in a very long time,” you exhaled sadly, “most of them spent five years alone, or missing out on seeing their grandkids grow up. I was so happy to see their smiles.”

“And what about you?”

You finally turned to him, “I was here, alone” looking down, you laughed, “then again I was alone before, so. . .” you bit in your lower lip, wincing “that sounded so pathetic.”

This time he laughed with you, “no,” he shook his head, “I know how alone feels.”

Stopping on the sidewalk, you exchanged glances, “well, this is me,” you pointed up to your apartment building.

“Right, okay,” he breathed nervously.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you said, walking towards the steps.

“Yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair, “hey, do you- would you want to get dinner?”

“Finally,” you giggled, before turning back to him, “it took you four blocks to ask!” He gave a shocked expression, only making you smile bigger, “I’m free Sunday, meet you right here at six?”

“Okay,” he said happily, “it’s a date then.”

“Perfect,” you squeezed your arms, hugging yourself.

He swallowed harshly, before taking a step closer and leaning in to kiss you on the cheek, sweetly. When he pulled back, he looked slightly nervous, as if that was the wrong thing to do.

“You missed,” you batted your eyelashes, with a soft smile.

Bucky took a second, unsure if you were serious, either way he took his chances and met your lips with his. Somehow this one took you by more surprise, causing you to move your hands against his chest, holding on to his jacket, until he pulled back.

“Bingo,” you whispered.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Laisse tomber les filles 4

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: Things are starting to pick up but Lee’s still playing low key.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The book club let out on Friday and you quietly packed up your fraying copy of Nabokov, happy you would finally be able to throw it on the shelf and forget about it. As you pulled on your jacket and hooked your bag over your shoulder, Andre, the star of the club, approached you. He wasn’t as curt as Nora but he still made you feel daft.

“Hey, you like the book?” he asked.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” you answered, “I never really read anything like it before.”

“It’s definitely no Secret Garden,” he quipped.

“Oh, but I read the Bell Jar already, that’s the next book, right?” you countered.

“But did you really read it?” he challenged, “did you soak in the depth of the words?”

“I’m sure my second reading will help with that,” you said plaintively, “I think even, I’ll enjoy it even more.”

“It is more of a woman’s book,” he said tritely, “where are you going now?”

You went to the door and he followed you casually. You walked down the hall and shrugged as your sole tapped on the wooden floorboards.

“Oh…” you stopped yourself from saying no where, “actually, someone’s expecting me.”

“Oh ha, really? I saw those flyers they hand out. That’s one of the tips, say you’re being expected so the creep doesn’t follow you,” he rolled his eyes, “I was just asking, I’m not tryna pick you up or anything.”

You came out in the early spring dusk and stopped at the top of the stone steps. “I know you weren’t, I only… I am supposed to be somewhere.”

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a reading partner--”

A honk came and cut off his invitation. You glanced over at the black and white cruiser then back at Andre. You gave a weak smile.

“Maybe,” you answered, “sorry, that’s my ride.”

“So you’re dad’s a cop?” he wondered.

“My dad?” you shook your head, “he’s… a uh, friend.”

“Friend,” Andre echoed and another honk came, “he’s sure impatient.”

“Sorry, I should go.”

“See ya next week,” he called after you as you stumbled down the stairs.

“Yeah, see ya,” you tossed over your shoulder.

You approached the cruiser and Lee got out to open the door. You got in and waited for him to settle on the other side of the seat. You watched Andre stroll down the pavement and catch up with Van.

“You didn’t have to honk, I saw you,” you said quietly.

“Who was that then?” Lee asked as he steered onto the street.

“Just some guy from the club,” you replied.

“So, shakes?” he asked.

“Can we stop by my dorm first?” you hugged your bag anxiously.

“Why’s that?”

“I want to give you back those clothes, I can’t wear them,” you said.

“What? They’re a gift,” he furrowed his brow but you looked away before he could glance back at you as he stopped at the sign.

“It’s too much and they… they won’t fit me,” you said.

“Well, did you even try them on? You’re young, it’s the new style, I thought--”

“But why would you even think to buy me anything?” you interjected.

He inhaled and said nothing. His breath rose like a growl as he passed the road that led to your dorm. He switched gears and headed for the south exit of the campus.

“Don’t interrupt me. Ever,” he snarled, “and I was being nice, honey. It’s nothin’ bad, just a gift ‘cause I thought it’d look pretty on ya.”

“It’s not that I’m not, er, grateful, I only--”

“No thank you, no nothing,” he moped, “you really hurt me, girl.”

“No, it’s not like that. I just--”

“Just what? I saw you back there, tryna act like you don’t know me in front of that boy,” he grumbled, “‘cause I’m old, right?”

“We were talking, I was just saying goodbye,” you returned, “I don’t know why you’re being like this-- Can you please turn around and just take me home?”

“You promised me a date,” he huffed, “so we’re going… next time you can wear your new clothes.”

“Date?” you sputtered, “Sheriff, please, I want to go home.”

“My name’s Lee, honey,” he purred, “I wanna hear it on your tongue.”

“Wha--” he snaked his arm over and slid his hand onto your leg, just beneath your bag.

“Go on and say it,” he squeezed, “please.”

You swallowed and stiffened as you stared down at your lap.

“Lee,” you eked out.

“Good girl,” he snickered.

“Please, I don’t want a shake, I want to go--”

“I ain’t done nothing, honey, don’t be so dramatic,” he drew his hand away, “have I?”

You were quiet. He hadn’t really done anything more than be a bit grumpy. The touch was nothing, wasn’t it? Just a friendly gesture, trying to calm you down. And he bought you nice things and expected nothing but you to like it. It really seemed like you’d done something wrong the more you thought about it.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Nah, don’t be, I’m happy as long as you’re here,” he turned off of campus and sped up, “I read that book, you know? Lolita. Made patrol a bit easier. I haven’t read a book for years. It was… interesting.”

“You read it?” you flinched.

“Oh, yeah, it was… the man, Humbert, messin’ with a child, that’s some sickness there,” Lee mulled as he kept his eyes on the road, “don’t you think?”

“Um, yeah,” you answered, “I think it was also about, um, you know, an unreliable narrator and how stories unfold differently for people. How we can experience the same thing but not in the same way… I don’t know.”

“Hmm, yeah, that’s probably it,” he said, “but I just thought, that’s awful. You know, we’re adults, you and me. How old are ya, again?”

“I’ll be nineteen this summer, sir,” you replied.

“See, girls here can marry at sixteen,” he said, “but no twelve year old gettin’ hitched.”

“Oh, well,” you murmured, uncomfortable by his rambling, “can I try the vanilla this time?”

“Vanilla? Sure,” he smiled over the wheel, “think I’ll stick to strawberry, I like the sweet stuff.”

📚

The radio show came to an end and you fumbled with your empty cup. The dread still lingered in your chest. You counted the minutes until you could go home. The milkshake settled like a stone and added to your queasiness. Lee put his cup on his other side and yawned.

“Vanilla good?” he asked.

“Not bad,” you answered as he took the cup from you, “it’s late, hm?”

“Not that late,” he slid across the seat as the radio host picked up after the outro, “so you makin’ friends then?”

“Some,” you said, “just talking about schoolwork and, um, books.”

He was close, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. He pushed his arm over your shoulders and let his hand hang down above your chest. You went rigid and tried to sidle away.

“Sheriff?” you croaked.

“Aw, come on, honey, ain’t nothin’ wrong, just getting close, it’s cold, ain’t it?” his other hand came up and caressed your chin, “I like spending time with you… not havin’ to worry about my radio or criminals, just you.”

“I don’t… I think…” you grabbed his wrist, “I thought…”

“I’m just being nice, I’ll admit, I’ve grown a bit sweet on ya. You’re so pretty and that,” he slipped from your grasped and framed your chin and turned your head, “am I hurtin’ ya?”

“N-no, but I…” your lip quivered.

Was this how it happened? Maybe every girl felt like this the first time a man was near. You didn’t know, you couldn’t. You stared at him wide-eyed as he leaned in and his breath grazed your lips. You smelled the sugary strawberry flavour.

“This hurt?” he asked as his lips brushed yours.

“No,” you gulped as he pulled you to him.

“And this?” he didn’t wait for an answered before he kissed you.

He pressed his lips to your and sucked on your bottom lip. His teeth nipped lightly and he shoved his tongue against the creased of your mouth until you opened it. You garbled as he filled your mouth and hugged you tighter. You were terrified and confused by the suddenness of it all.

You grunted and pushed on his chest. You turned your head away and gasped as you shoved him harder and he relented. His hand slipped to the bottom of your neck as he looked at you in disappointment.

“What’sa matter?” he asked.

“I… I wanna go home, it’s late,” you whispered.

“Oh honey, don’t be scared, it’s a date, I’m just kissin’ ya good night.”

“I never… said it was a date,” you mumbled.

“And why not?” he pressed, “you’re an adult, I am too.”

“I don’t… know,” you uttered, “I never… never been on a date so I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“I didn’t mean to confuse you, I thought you knew,” he said, “a girl like you, I thought you had plenty of dates.”

You shook your head and chewed your lip. You stared at your shoes and wriggled away from him. You ran your fingertips along your jawline as you huddled against the door.

“Please take me home,” you breathed.

“I didn’t mean nothing by it, I just think you’re very sweet and… beautiful,” he reached out and took your hand gently, “I can go slow.”

“I just don’t know,” you didn’t pull your hand away as he held it.

“Ah, I get it, I’m old, I know it, I ain’t stupid,” he sighed.

“I don’t care about that,” you withdrew and wrung your hands in your lap, “I’m… embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” he repeated.

“That I never… That I don’t know about all that,” you confessed, “but I don’t wanna think about that now.”

“Can I see you tomorrow then?” he asked, “I wanna see your new clothes.”

“Sheriff,” you said.

“Lee,” he corrected sharply.

“Lee,” you hissed, “please, can you take me home?”

“Well, you just needa ask nicely is all,” he pushed himself in front of the wheel and jolted the whole car with the movement, “let’s get ya there all safe and sound and you can rest up for tomorrow, huh?”

“I gotta study tomorrow,” you argued.

“You can,” he assured you, “you come study at mine and I’ll make you a nice home cooked dinner, how about that?”

You sniffed and pouted, “sure, if you take me home.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #dark fic #fic #series #laisse tomber les filles #dark!fic #au #college au

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gamerwoo · 2 years

Text

Seventeen: Color Theory (Part Two)

Characters: Seventeen x female reader | ???? x female reader

Genre/warnings: host club au, soulmate au, college au, angst, slight fluff toward the end if you squint but it’s ruined by angst again, toxic relationship dynamics, cheating, mentions of smut but nothing in-depth

Word count: 2,084

Summary: Can the wish to be the soulmate of another overpower fate? That’s the question your best friend constantly proposes at the mention of your soulmate who has many flags to match the color of your pendant. You’ve always dismissed her whenever she told you to forget about your soulmate, because how could you? He’s the person you’re destined to be with. But one day, you find that your red pendant to indicate you’ve found your soulmate has suddenly turned white again.

Tag list: @peachy-hoon

Previous | Next | Color Theory Masterlist

“So?”

You sighed as you looked up from your work. You knew Jeongyeon was basically vibrating in her seat from anticipation, wondering how things at the host club the previous afternoon went. However, you had sat down to do your homework and said nothing about what happened. She had sat down about two minutes ago at your table, and she managed to stay quiet for that long. It was actually longer than you’d expected.

“So what?” you asked as if you didn’t know exactly what she wanted from you.

She gave you a look that made you break into a smirk.

“Cut the shit, dude,” she stated. “I want all the details.”

But instead of gushing about how great of a time you had like she was hoping, you just shrugged and started closing your books, “It was nice. They paid a lot of attention to me. Everyone was pleasant.”

“Stop trying to downplay it,” she huffed. “I know you had a good time. _____, that’s how you’re supposed to be treated!”

“I said I had a good time,” you pointed out.

“But you’re acting like it wasn’t as great as I know it was,” she gave you a knowing look. “You’ve never gotten special attention like that before -- attention that Saejoon should be giving to you.”

You sighed, “I’m not explaining his situation to you again. Besides, he’s exactly who I’m going to see, so shove it.”

“You’re going to see him?” she asked incredulously. “Don’t tell me his parents are visiting again.”

Saejoon really only ever invited you over if his family was around. Despite the way he acted toward you, he acted like an actual partner when his parents came around. Jeongyeon kept saying how fucked up it was that he wanted his family to think he had a perfect relationship with his soulmate when he treated you like shit, but you kept insisting that wasn’t it. You weren’t really sure what exactly it was, but you told her to stop saying it was that.

“No, but I left my notebook at his place when they came over,” you explained, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I told him I was coming to grab it. I need it to study this weekend.”

“And I’m assuming he completely ghosted you, correct?” she guessed, tilting her head and blinking up at you because she knew she was right.

You sneered, “Nobody asked.”

With that, you turned on your heel and exited the library, marching out of the building and toward Saejoon’s.

«─── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

You absolutely weren’t saying that Saejoon was a bad soulmate, but five minutes seemed like a really long time to keep a person waiting outside their apartment. You were standing in the hallway outside his door looking like a lost puppy while you knocked every minute or so. You even tried calling his name -- loud enough for him to hopefully hear but not so loud to disturb anyone on his floor, hopefully -- to no avail.

Would finding the spare key under his mat and unlocking the door yourself make him upset? Maybe, but you needed you notebook. You already texted him and warned him anyway, so at this point, you figured you could do whatever. So you bent down and fished the key out from under the upper left hand corner of the mat. Then you stood and unlocked the door.

Walking in, the apartment seemed empty. His kitchen and living area was completely abandoned and the lights weren’t even on. Maybe Saejoon wasn’t home at all.

But then you heard the squeaking noise. It was a steady beat that made your ears perk up at the sound. It was...too steady.

Then there was the faint female giggle that made you gulp.

You poked your head around to look down the short and narrow hallway toward Saejoon’s bedroom. The door was cracked open with a faint warm glow from his bedside lamp.

A deep moan. It made your heart hammer against your chest once before stopping and falling straight to your butt.

With shaky legs, you slowly and silently walked toward the door, angling yourself to look through the crack. You pushed the door open just enough to gather the information you needed: Saejoon in bed with his ex-girlfriend. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat as hot tears pricked at your eyes. You quickly turned away from the scene before they saw you -- but you didn’t really care about silence as much as you cared about getting the hell out of there-- going as quickly as you could to grab your red notebook from the counter before leaving the apartment. The door closed behind you, most definitely signaling to Saejoon and his lover that somebody had been in there, but you didn’t care. You walked quickly toward the stairs, trying to fish your phone out of your pocket and find Jeongyeon’s contact through bleary eyes.

Phone to your ear, you went down the stairs as quickly as you could, listening to the phone ring before going to voicemail. You tried again, now halfway to the ground floor. Again, no answer.

You pushed through the doors and into the cold of the outside. You walked to the edge of the sidewalk and tried a third time.

“C’mon, Jeongyeon, pick up,” you mumbled to yourself, sniffling to keep your tears in. “Pick up, pick up, please pick up...”

Again, straight to voicemail. You let out a huff, your breath appearing in white in front of your face. Your nose was already turning pink from the cold and you tried to pull your jacket tighter around you as you tried her number again.

“_____?” a deep voice asked.

You turned your head to the right to see a somewhat familiar face walking toward you. He was definitely from the host club. He was tall and thin with round glasses perched on his nose. Wonwoo.

“Oh...” he noticed your expression and the tears escaping down your cheeks. “Is everything okay?”

“Now’s kind of a b-bad time,” you tried to tell him, though your voice shook.

He frowned and walked closer, reaching out. He put his arms around you and guided you to walk the way he’d just come, “Here, let me help you back to your place.”

“How do you kn-know where I live?” you asked.

“Your paperwork,” he chuckled. “You put the building you live in.”

“And you...remembered that?”

“Of course."

He dropped his arms from you and just walked beside you, which you silently appreciated. While you did sort of know him from the host club, he was still a stranger and you felt a little odd being so close to him when he wasn’t ‘working’. There, it was his job to be touchy.

“So,” he began softly, looking over at you, “would you like to talk about it?”

“About what?” you asked, trying to act like you weren’t on the verge of blubbering like a baby.

He let out a sad chuckle, “_____...”

It’s silent as you try to compose yourself, but thinking about what you just saw only pushes out more tears from your eyes. You drop your head as you choke out, “He cheated on me.”

Wonwoo’s steps falter, “Your soulmate?”

You nodded.

This time, he stops completely and pulls you into a warm hug that you didn’t realize you’d appreciate so much. Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as he lets you cry into him.

“Oh, ______...” he says softly into your hair. “I’m so sorry...”

He may have learned all of this comfort stuff from the host club, but his actions and words are genuine as he holds you and tells you that you don’t deserve that to happen to you. The two of you stand there for a few minutes while he lets you get it all out. He wants you to be the first to pull away when you’re ready.

You definitely don’t get all of your crying out, but you’re embarrassed that you’re sobbing to a stranger and getting snot all over his jacket. You pull away and wipe your eyes and face, dabbing under your nose with the sleeve of your jacket.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, don’t be,” he tells you. “Can I ask...?”

You take a deep breath before finally looking back at Wonwoo, “I saw.”

“Oh...”

“I went to his dorm to get my notebook, and he was in there with his ex-girlfriend,” you explained. “They were together before...we were.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why would-- Actually, that’s not my business. _____, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged. “Thanks for...being around, I guess.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s my building.”

“Jeongyeon wasn’t answering her phone, so,” you trailed off as the two of you started walking again. “Otherwise I’d be walking back home alone.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not alone,” he stated. “I know you hardly know me, but I’m happy I could comfort you a little bit. It’s better than you walking home sad and alone.”

“I’m still sad,” you shrugged.

He laughed softly, “Okay, you got me there.”

The two of you fell into a silence as you walked. Wonwoo kept his head up, looking around the campus. You kept yours down, staring at your feet and the sidewalk.

“Can I give my two cents, _____?” he asked suddenly.

You looked up, “Sure.”

“I know I’m just some stranger but something doesn’t sit with me here,” he confessed. “If this man is supposed to be your soulmate...why would he feel the need to cheat? You don’t have to give an explanation, it’s just something I can’t wrap my head around. I mean, the idea of a soulmate is that you’re meant for each other. You’re made to be together. So why would one feel the need to be unfaithful? It’s so...interesting.”

You felt his question was more philosophical rather than him looking for an answer, so you shrugged and said, “Jeongyeon brings up the fate versus desire theory a lot.”

Wonwoo seemed perplexed by this, cocking his head slightly to one side, “We talked about that in soulmate history. It’s an intriguing theory: the idea that the desire to be together could overpower fate. I’ve always enjoyed the idea.”

You just shrugged and mumbled, “If you’re into that.”

He laughed, looking at you with amusement and...something else you couldn’t quite place. It was warm, though.

“You’re not too into that theory?” he guessed.

You let out a heavy sigh, “Jeong always talks about it. She hates Saejoon and thinks I’ll just find someone else. But he’s my soulmate. He’s just not...taking it well. I mean, if you were absolutely in love with someone and then some stranger came out of nowhere and was your soulmate, wouldn’t you be upset about it?”

“Another interesting question,” he nodded slowly. “I’d have to say I would be a little sad. You know...something similar happened to a friend of mine.”

“Really? What happened?”

“One of my friends, his soulmate. She thought it was someone else who she had the biggest crush on, but it ended up not being him. Apparently she cried all night.”

“What did she end up doing?” you asked.

“She found out who her soulmate really was and now they’re happily together,” he answered simply.

“Oh...” you frowned slightly.

Wonwoo smirked at you, “Why’d you react like that?”

“I just thought the end would be more interesting.”

“Or maybe you hoped she changed fate and her ending was happy?” he offered. “Maybe you wanted reassurance in your situation.”

The two of you were now outside your building, so you stopped and turned to face him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“_____, not that it’s any of my business, but I can’t imagine this relationship makes you very happy.”

“You’re right, it isn’t any of your business,” you snapped.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he quickly said. “All I’m saying is maybe fate versus desire is actually an intriguing topic to you and maybe you just--”

“Wonwoo, I hardly know you. Keep your opinions of me and Saejoon and our relationship to yourself,” you interrupted. “And fate versus desire is bullshit.”

With that, you stomped passed him -- checking him with your shoulder -- and went into your building. And you didn’t look back at him once.

So you didn’t see him stand there outside the building and watch you go.

#ficscafe #seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fanfic #seventeen series #seventeen soulmate au #seventeen x reader #soulmate!seventeen #seventeen host club au #host club!seventeen #seventeen aus #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfics

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angstsfordays · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Pain (5)

Chapter Five- Think About Us

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Feeling lucky to have met Sharon in Madripoor, she could be your lead to find out the origins of the new super serums. Meanwhile, your one-sided love for Bucky might turn out otherwise.

Warnings: Awkward run-ins. Sexual tension, perhaps? A slow slow burn. Violence. A few bad words.

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Hi everyone! Ever since I started this series, I gained a great number of followers and I am so thankful for everyone who did so! I am really glad you have been enjoying this series so far! 😆

Please let me know what you think of the story, I really appreciate it! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

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Sharon brought you back to her place and you were amazed at how high end it was. The residential place had armed security and as you entered the building, you realised that there was a gallery within it filled with stolen original artworks.

Sharon explained how she had to chose to make the most of her new life. Even she was a fugitive of the states, she made sure she put her skills to use so that she could enjoy a comfortable life.

You were in awe at her resilience. Sam in an innocent moment, couldn’t believe that all the artworks in Sharon’s gallery were the real deal and Bucky informed that the museums were all holding fakes.

Letting you know that she’s hosting clients in an hour, she ushered all of you to go get changed. Sharon told you to choose anything from her personal wardrobe and offered you to use the bathroom.

Giving your thanks, she left you to your own. You immediately took off your heels and pulled the strings that held your dress together. Taking advantage of her bathroom products, you wiped off your makeup and allowed yourself a refreshing quick shower.

Once the last bit of bubbles was washed off your body, you towelled yourself off and put on a fresh set of underwear. As you were about to reach for the hairdryer, you suddenly heard the jolt of the door and you turned to see Bucky entering the same bathroom.

It was a brief second of exchange before you turned your back on him while he exited and close the door behind him.

“Oh shoot, sorry- I didn’t know-” Bucky stuttered as he struggled to find the right words. You felt your cheeks turning hot but tried to stay cool.

“It’s okay, don’t need to worry.” As you were met with silence, you couldn’t help but wince at the awkward moment and hoped to make it go away.

“Are you urgent?” You added on to see if he would respond. His next words brought you relief as you thought he would have just walked off without notice.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I can wait.” You thought that you didn’t want to make him wait and quickly rushed to wear the oversized white blouse and light flared denim that Sharon passed to you.

You quickly proceeded to open the door to find Bucky standing awkwardly with his hands behind and his head looking down on the floor. You saw he had picked out a black ensemble- a black blazer, black shirt, black pants and black shoes.

He looked so good you wanted to melt into a puddle.

When he heard the doors opened, he immediately raised his head to meet your eyes. You tried to give a reassuring smile to ease the atmosphere and told him that he could use the bathroom first. You could dry your hair later.

“I swear I didn’t see anything, I mean I did for a second but that was it.” Bucky tried to explain himself. He hated how he was suddenly being weird around you.

Maybe he was acting because this was the first time he has even remotely seen a woman like that after years of HYDRA’s brainwashing and being on the run. But then again, he had seen all those bikini pictures of women on dating apps and while it was bizarre to him, it didn’t faze him in the way it just did with you.

In all his years that Bucky had known you, that was probably the first time he has actually seen you in such an intimate image. What was up with tonight and why was he suddenly feeling so much about you?

“It’s fine, Buck! It’s not like you are a pervert or something.” Trying to crack a joke so that Bucky could relax, you saw the side of his mouth quirk up in agreement before he stepped into the bathroom.

-------------------------//---------------------------

You entered the room last seeing everyone was already gathering and talking. Greeted by the sight of Zemo pouring himself a drink and Sam putting on a shirt, your eyes moved to where Sharon joined Bucky on the couch.

You managed to catch the last bit of conversation where Sharon was shading Bucky in regard to the topic of John Walker. Sharon warned of potentially crossing paths with the power broker as you all wanted to find more leads on Nagel.

Sam tried to convince her to help and promised to clear her name. As she poured herself a drink, you could tell from Sharon’s expression that she was not buying it. Her walls were up after the last incident and she wasn’t sure if she could trust you all anymore.

Sam pressed on but Sharon refused to be pitied. He then made it a deal and she relented. Sharon mentioned how her clients were well-connected and she would see if she could get anything useful from the party.

Looking at you stand uncomfortably at the corner, she came up to you and squeezed your shoulder to comfort you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch all this while. There’s no excuse.”

“It’s fine, you were dragged into it pretty much like I was.” Sam gave a surprising look at how Sharon was fine with your apology.

Noticing it, Sharon then explained that she had a softer spot for you since you were friends and you had stuck your neck out for her on several occasions during your S.H.I.E.L.D days.

She was willing to overlook it compared to her almost non-existent history with Sam.

“I’m surprised you kept your secret from me, I thought we were friends after all.” You knew she was referring to your powers. Nervously licking your lips, you responded.

“I’m sorry. It was Director Fury’s order.” The guilt seeped in.

“And you actually revealed it for the first time publicly for him?” Without mentioning his name, Bucky knew Sharon was referring to him. He looked over to see you giving a nervous and awkward smile. While curious to know what you would say, Bucky just looked somewhere else pretending to be unbothered.

“There’s a lot more to it, Sharon. I wish I could tell you more.”

“He’s really something, huh?” Sharon said before sipping her drink. You actually knew what to say but held back especially since Sam and Zemo were in the room.

More importantly, Bucky was there. Sensing your hesitance and noticing your fleeting glance over at Bucky, Sharon had a hunch but she was more than aware to not harp on it.

Giving an awkward laugh, you tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You looked into her eyes in a quiet exchange and she returned you a brief smile before telling everyone to lay low and enjoy the party.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The music was bouncing off the speakers wildly and the flashing lights in the club caused to squint your eyes a bit. Sharon was already working while the rest of you figured how you would exactly blend in.

Zemo was already working his way onto the dance floor and you were flabbergasted at the mere sight of him starting to bust out some moves to the music. You could see Sam being approached by some people and beginning to make small talk.

Turning your head to find Bucky, you realised you had lost sight of him in the crowd. You weren’t exactly in a party mood seeing you’re all alone and opted to head to the bar.

Before taking another step, you heard someone calling for you.

“Hey.” Spinning your head to the source of the voice, you were met with the vision of a tall and handsome man with a boyish smile. You were taken aback by his request to dance and you thought you probably looked like an idiot turning your head to look for your help.

When you face the guy once more, he had an earnest look that was waiting for your answer. Giving him another quick glance up and down, you didn’t think of him to be a sleazy dude. He kind of looked alright but you were wondering that if he were to be in Madripoor, could he even be up to any good?

“You’re really beautiful and I just wanted to dance.” He added on in hopes that you would agree.

Seeing how you were taking a long time to respond, the man reached out to grab your hand and pulled you closer to him. He respectfully kept you at a distance and did not immediately press himself against you.

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you took a sharp intake as he spun you to press your back against his front and placed his hands on your waist. Leading you to dance, you could feel him swaying side to side and guiding you to follow the same. You weren’t sure where to even put your hands and started cracking your knuckles in nervousness.

You bit your lip as you thought about how you should get yourself out of this. The man seemed nice enough but you weren’t into him. You are an agent and someone with superpowers, you should be able to get out of this mess.

Waiting for the right timing to tell him that you didn’t want to continue this, a cold hand reached out to grab yours and firmly pull you out of the man’s grip on you. Your eyes met with a familiar chest and in the next moment, a warm hand rested on your back.

Titling your head up, piercing cerulean orbs met yours and you heaved a sigh of relief at the recognition of the owner with the beautiful eyes.

“Sorry I’m late, doll.” His voice was reverberating all the way from his chest. Your eyes shied away to meet his once more before you peered over your shoulder at the embarrassed man.

“Hey man, I didn’t know. She didn’t say anything.” The man raised his hands in surrender but Bucky was not pleased with his explanation.

“If she didn’t say anything, it is not consent.” Bucky shot back with a death stare. You swore Bucky could add staring onto his list of super abilities as it always seemed to make people tremble in fear, save for Sam.

When the man was gone, Bucky apologised before letting you go. Instant disappointment washed over you as you had secretly hoped to be held by him longer. Bucky cleared his throat and tried to look somewhere far as he didn’t know what to say next in this situation.

You were overwhelmed with emotions and thought that it was now or never.

“Do you wanna dance?” You looked up to see Bucky looking back at you with wide eyes. You instantly regretted ever asking the question and quickly turned yourself away before he could even say anything.

Bucky’s hand shot out to grab yours to stop you from moving and the two of you exchanged in a silent moment before he spoke.

“I don’t really know how to dance to this. Music was different back in the day. The dance is also uh- different-” You knew Bucky was referring to the exceedingly intimate dancing of people that were surrounding you.

It was the norm but you would never see yourself doing that. The only time where you would actually let loose and dance that provocatively was in good fun with your girlfriends or gathered a stroke of courage with hard liquor.

“We don’t need to follow them. We can dance by our own rules.” Hands reaching out to hold his, you moved them to the rhythm to allow him to feel the music. You then lift your right and his left hand in the air before you twirled yourself.

Bucky’s lips moved up into a brief smile as you led the dance with confidence. The two of you were in your own bubble, uncaring of your surroundings. Seeing Bucky loosened up a little more, you picked up the confidence to groove your hips to the music. Recognising the song, you sang it enthusiastically and lost yourself in the lyrics.

This was probably the first time you had the chance to visibly relax from the aftermath of the last fight and the grief of your loss. Bucky couldn’t hold back his grin when he saw how you looked so carefree. He knew that even though you looked cheerful most of the time, he could always sense a tinge of sadness behind those eyes.

The next song was familiar to you as it was a favourite of yours. It was a popular Latin pop song and it easily invites one to dance their heart out.

Wrapping your hands behind his neck, you motioned him to follow you in slightly swaying to the music. The song sang of two people who were attracted to each other and you couldn’t help but wished it was fitting for this context.

Believing that your attraction to Bucky was only one-sided, you took this chance to be able to ever have such intimacy with him. As you sang the song, you playfully made up such actions to the lyrics that came off flirtatious. You believed Bucky was playing along with you in the moment but that was where you thought wrong.

Listening to the lyrics of the song, Bucky’s ear turned red at what the song was about. Seeing how you were acting, he thought that you were just feeling out the song but Bucky felt otherwise. When the beat dropped, Bucky made a sudden move to pull closer by the waist.

Lowering his head nearer to yours, your breath hitched at the sudden turn of events. You didn’t think one dance with Bucky would turn out like this. One of your hands slid from the back of his to hold his jaw. Your thumb stroked his light beard and you realised your noses were almost brushing.

What was going on? Could Bucky also feel the same way or was he too caught up in the moment. Both of your hands slid down to smooth the lapels of his jacket before resting on his broad chest. Your eyes averted away due to the intensity of his brooding stare but Bucky took this chance to bring his hand to tilt your head back to face him straight on.

“Bucky-” Whispering his name to get his attention, you didn’t know the effect it had on him as his attention went to your lips tinted with a balm. Were your lips always this alluring? He suddenly really wanted a taste to find out.

Bucky slanted his head to an angle before lowering his lips. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you anticipated what was about to happen.

“Hey guys, Sharon got a lead!” Sam’s voice broke you out of your trance and you snapped your eyes open. Without looking at Bucky, you quickly turned to see Sam making his way through the crowd to find the two of you.

“Here!” You piped up before making quick steps to the man, leaving a bewildered and disappointed super-soldier behind. Sam pointed to you where Sharon was and when he turned back to see Bucky, he was confused as to why Bucky was staring at him like he wanted him dead.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Nagel’s hideout was speculated to be amongst the shipping containers. Sharon warned you that the longer you stayed in Madripoor, the lesser chances you had of leaving with the bounty on all of you.

She passed you in-ear comms before giving you the container number. Before she walked away, you stopped her in her tracks.

“Would you be alright? I could come with you instead.” You added that the three men should be good on their own but Sharon insisted that she would be fine on her own. She wished you good luck before leaving you all.

As the four of you entered the container, you weren’t sure if you were in the right place. Zemo managed to find the handle of the door and looked back at all of you.

Sam and Bucky readied themselves with guns while you nervously fidgeted with your hands. As Bucky walked up to you, he gave you a longing stare but you quickly averted your eyes away.

Your mind was still reeling from what happened at the club last night and you couldn’t believe that things went that far. Was it real or was it just a dream? You shook your head to snap you out of your thought as you refocus on the mission at hand.

Sam and Bucky both took the lead while you were pacing side by side with Zemo. You looked to see him with a sudden solemn expression as you continued to make your way forward.

As the music started playing from a speaker somewhere, the sight that greeted you showed that the inside of this container was refurbished to be some sort of lab.

Venturing inwards, you saw a man who you presumed to be Dr Nagel. Zemo turned off the record player and Sam called for the doctor.

The doctor though frightened, was still relatively calm at the sight of all four of you in his supposed hidden lab. Despite the intrusion, Dr Nagel was indifferent and asked for everyone to leave. While he made his way, his feet stopped at the sight of Bucky.

Sam suggested he better speak of what he knew about the super-soldier serums but Nagel seemed defiant. He even asked for a counter-proposal to make him talk.

That’s when you heard Sharon speaking in the comms about approaching company. Time was pressing and you were frustrated at the doctor’s refusal to speak. Bucky took the rougher approach and immediately went to sit Nagel down while pointing a gun directly at his head.

You sighed in exasperation when Sharon spoke in your comms once more to inform you that every bounty hunter in Madripoor had known of your location and was coming to get all of you.

Nagel feared Bucky the most, knowing what he was actually capable of all. He began to share how he worked for HYDRA then the CIA. He managed to get his hands on an American test subject with semi-stable traces of the super-soldier serum.

You closed your eyes wearily as you knew who he was referring to. Nagel then went on to talk about how he managed to recreate the serum after much hard work and referred to himself as a god.

His project was paused when he was snapped. However, when he came back, he sought refuge here in Madripoor. The power broker was very eager to fund his work. He had made exactly twenty vials of the serum but they were all stolen by Karli Morgenthau.

He remarked that Karli had contacted him to seek help for someone, Donya Madani who was diagnosed with tuberculosis. This was definitely a clue to help you all step in the right direction.

“Y/N L/N.” The sudden call of your name had you meet eyes with Nagel. You didn’t expect him to look at you with a leering smile that managed to creep you out. All the men were curious why he had suddenly called for you.

“I read your leaked files. You are the only one of your kind. Perhaps, the only one who managed to surface from the shadows.” Nagel’s words only served to confused everyone before he continued.

“I am a believer of Science, but when there has been little research, you can’t help to turn to stories. You are human yet you are not. How on earth are you able to gain superpowers without any experimentation done on you?” You realised this was why Director Fury had you hidden all this while cause he knew that people like Nagel would love to get his hands on you.

“It would be an honour for me to able to find out what courses through your veins and make you so powerful. Perhaps, if I am able to provide such privileges to those who were willing to pay for it, I will be unstoppable.”

Talking like a mad man, you shook your head in disbelief at what he was implying. The fact he wanted to treat you like a test subject for his personal science project. Bucky clutched the gun in his hands harder while you went forward to grab Nagel’s collars.

Your hands glowed brightly, threatening to burn Nagel. He was a crossed between looking fearful and fascinated at the same time.

“You bastard-”

“Guys, we’re seriously out of time here!” Sharon busted through the doors right at this moment. Your hands on Nagel slackened as you turned towards Sharon. Before you knew it, a gunshot was fired and Sam had Zemo backed up to the wall.

Nagel fell flat on the floor with a bullet lodged right at where his heart would be.

The breaking of windows came before the flames burst through the room. Everyone went to hide from the blast while you stretched your hands to use your powers to subdue it. While the impact was reduced, everyone still fell back on the floor from the shock.

Bucky who managed to recover faster went to help everyone up and you pulled them to their feet. All of you managed to make your way to the exit.

Even in the smoke, you could make out the shadows of the bounty hunters who were preparing a shootout. Bucky tried to lead but Sam already went ahead. You rolled your eyes at the fact that they couldn’t work together for once.

All three of your friends started to fight back with the onslaught of people after your lives. As you faced your palms out on standby, Sam reminded you to not use your powers.

“Do we look like we have the privilege to do that now?” You retorted before sending blasts consecutively to know each hunter down like a domino.

As you knocked out each person, you could hear arguing at the back from Sam and Bucky. You had it and you shot a huge blast that reminiscing of a torch blower before you sharply turn back at the two bickering children.

“For the love of god, if you two don’t stop this, I will burn your tongues off.” You said it like you mean it before the two men zipped shut.

A sudden burst of flames took your attention next and you hold up your hands to build a barrier to protect your friends. All of your attention was directed to Zemo appearing out of nowhere and taking out people easily.

You all decided to escape from your hiding spot and find somewhere safe. Your group were met with a couple more bounty hunters which Bucky easily took care of. All of you retreated to a container before Bucky burst out of the other end.

Zemo came and pulled up with a car with a cheeky smile. Was this man the same one from before?

Sam gave him shit for pulling the stunt on Nagel and claimed that he would send him back to jail. However, Bucky intervened and reasoned that you all still needed Zemo to find Karli. Getting into the car before Sam, you were surprised to hear Sharon wouldn’t be joining you. She held Sam to the promise of a pardon and you stretched your hands to squeeze hers affectionately.

“Take care.” You bided her farewell before she did the same.

-------------------------//---------------------------

“You, okay?” Bucky checked in with Sam as he finally took a breather after making a call. You sat beside Bucky as he cleaned out the dirt and blood from his vibranium arm.

There was a lot to process from what happened in Madripoor. Learning about what Sharon had to go through and how Nagel was a mad scientist who did not have respect for human beings.

“Are you okay?” Bucky turned to you next. He was worried for you when he saw how you were with Nagel. Your rage was clear as day when you heard how the doctor spoke of you like you were some work of scientific wonder to be poked and prodded.

He could only imagine how upsetting it was for you like how it unsettled him to have you being talked about in that manner. You gave his vibranium hand a light squeeze before leaning your head on his shoulder for comfort.

“I will be okay.” You sighed before closing your eyes to rest. Bucky held your hands and laid them on his leg as he saw you trying to relax from all the events that had happened earlier. He decided to let you have your peace.

You could hear your boys started talking properly for once without arguing about Steve’s shield. It seemed like everything had been a mess. Sam went on to say that he should have it destroyed while Bucky countered that the shield was important to many people including himself.

He vowed to make sure he takes it back from Walker cause it sure plain as hell that he was not suited to be your new Captain. Sam managed to find out who Donya Madani was and informed that she had passed away.

Feeling the other end of the seat sinking, you figure Zemo had taken that spot. He remarked that he had a place that you all could go in regard to Donya’s last location and requested a change of course.

Bucky looked down to see you already laying still, probably getting a quick shut-eye. Catching Sam’s glance down at your tangled hands, Bucky looked away to seem apathetic where in reality, his heart was racing wildly as he hears the soft breathing that soon came out of your lips.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #tfatws #thefalconandthewintersoldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #angstsfordays #beautiful pain #marvel fanfiction

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

Note

Smut, you say 👀

You're this cute, kinda innocent woman that gets the help of this handsome gigolo to not be as... innocent.

💕 The Professional: Chapter 1 💕

Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter only)

Pairing: Danma Takeru (Hatter)/Reader (she/her

Tags: flirting, suggestive conversation, alcohol consumption, smoking, kissing

“Well, darling,” he says, voice low and smooth and so much closer than before, “I think it’s high time we got to the heart of the issue. The root of the root and the bud of the bud, as it were.”

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

Notes: This is a kind-of sort-of AU—in the show, Hatter references his involvement with the host club business, and mentions that he “would do anything” to be the best. Although host clubs do not usually involve sex work (as far as I know), I believe that he would definitely offer that “off the books” in order to win over his clientele.

You’re nervous. Nervous and jittery and—oh, dear, there’s a lot of feelings going on in here, and all of them seem to fall under the umbrella of ‘mild to moderate discomfort.’ Not that feeling uncomfortable is anything new; in fact, there are very few times where you happen to feel truly comfortable outside of, say, the warmth of your bed or the soothing calm of a late-night bath. Places where you feel safe. Places where you can let yourself breathe and be, unhindered by expectation.

The place where you currently find yourself—this strange little pocket of a room in the buzz and bustle of a Friday-night Kabukicho—is full-to-bursting with expectation. From the polished wood floors to the glittering gold chandelier that hangs from the center of the ceiling, there is an inescapable sense of opulent whimsy that is tinged pink with a blush of sensuality. There are even fresh flowers on the table in front of you—a vase of ranunculus, blooming bright and orange like a green-stalked bunch of tiny setting suns.

Something like an itch tickles your sweat-damp palms, making you ball your hands into tight fists around the fabric of your skirt. Oh, you should have worn something different! Something sexier, maybe, with a deeper neckline and a shorter hem, that hugged the shape of your body as opposed to ghosting over it in fluttering chiffon. Not that you actually, you know, owned anything like that, but—

The pop! of a champagne cork makes you jump. Hell, you feel like you’re about to pop, too, from the nervous energy boiling and swelling in your chest. It’s so very difficult not to fidget, to keep your toes from tapping out a frantic little rhythm on the rug.

Looking back, you realize that the paperwork had been the ‘easy’ part. Not that it had been particularly easy—who knew there would be an application process for this kind of thing?—but it was less stressful to fill out a (surprisingly comprehensive) questionnaire in the privacy of your own home as opposed to this agonizing waiting.

And what, exactly, are you waiting for?

Why, you’re waiting for him.

His name is Takeru—or, at least, that’s what he’s asked you to call him. Whether or not it’s a stage name is difficult to tell; but what you do know is that it sounded so very nice in the deep clear of his voice. The only thing that sounded better was your name, which he said in a gently-sultry half-whisper that made you feel…many thing, and not all of them innocent.

In a devastatingly well-tailored suit of lipstick red—a vibrant pop of a color you would so often consider buying at the makeup counter but always put back—it’s nearly impossible to look at anything but him. A small collection of rings glisten from his fingers, most of them delicate little things that wink a tiny gleam when the light hits them just right. The dizzying black-white-gold pattern of his shirt is unbuttoned just a smidge too low, offering you a tantalizing view of his chest.

And although his back is toward you, concocting some kind of magic at the bar cart along the far wall, you can all but feel the warm-dark of his eyes on you. Oh, he has beautiful eyes, dark and warm with the glitter of laughter—or perhaps mischief, if the situation calls for it. A slim nose leads down to a shapely mouth, handsomely framed by a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache.

Also, his hair—oh, that man has a great head of hair.

Aesthetics aside—he has been undeniably lovely. Slipping the coat from your shoulders when you walked into the room, fingertips skimming the slope of your shoulders with only the barest of touches. Offering you a glass of champagne (“Yes, thank you”) as he leads you to sit on the green velvet settee, hand hovering above but never touching the small of your back. A serene smile on his lips as he talks, as he tells you that your dress is lovely (“Blue is definitely your color, darling”) and letting out an airy chuckle when you mention that this was as good occasion as any to dig it out of the back of your closet.

It is impossible to ignore the way he is so very provocative—subtly so, in a way that makes you second-guess whether his flirtations had happened at all. Did his eyes really linger over the shape of your legs, or was he simply taking a moment to admire your (new, very cute) shoes? Did his fingertips slip over the curve of your shoulder as he removed your coat, or were you just imagining it?

His gaze tiptoes over your shape as he sits down beside you, two flutes of pink-tinged something in hands.

“I’ve taken the liberty of making something a little special,” he says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as he hands you one of the glasses, “it…it looks nice.”

“Know what it is?”

“Uh,” you say after a moment of silent deliberation, “Maybe alcohol?”

He huffs a short laugh at your half-joke—a rather polite response, and it manages to soothe the bubble of regret that had risen up your throat the moment you’d said it.

“You’re not wrong. More specifically, though, it’s a Kir Royale—or, my take on one, at the very least,” he watches the bubbles fizzle to the top of the glass, “I find myself more or less incapable of keeping with convention, even when it comes to alcohol.”

“Well, uh,” you say, “it’s pretty. I like the color.”

You taste the drink, bubbles like tiny fireworks tickling over the surface of your tongue. There is a dry bitterness, no doubt from the champagne, but it’s softened by a fruity sweetness. Something familiar, something that reminds you of summer and shaved ice and walks along the river and—

“Cherry,” you say, half-lost in the hazy-warm memory of days gone by—until you remember where you are and snap back to reality, “it’s, uh, it tastes like cherries.”

“Very good. Usually, the drink calls for creme de cassis, but I used Kijafa instead. It’s a dessert wine from Denmark, made from cherries,” his brow raises just a smidge, “I thought it appropriate, given the situation.”

And it takes you a minute to understand what he’s talking about. Cherries. You. Ah. A rather crass comparison, but accurate all the same.

“Oh,” you say, picking a very uninteresting spot on the rug to look at in an attempt to avoid meeting his eyes, “I, uh…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he adds, “In fact, virginity isn’t even a real thing. Completely made up. Means nothing, really.”

There is a kind of lag—he’s speaking, you know he’s speaking, but it takes your brain a few extra seconds to figure out what he’s actually saying. It’s strange, hearing someone talk to you so openly about sex. Not unwelcome, by any means, but you need a moment (or two, or ten) to adjust.

“That being said,” he continues, as if he’s discussing the weather, “just because it doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of life doesn’t mean it’s nothing to you.”

He’s fishing. He’s fishing, and you kind of want to take the bait, but…well, you’re finding it difficult to get your thoughts in order. He’s the very picture of calm, all while you’re floundering over a simple conversation.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped,” he says, taking a slow sip of his drink, “I thought you might prefer to talk it over a bit. ”

“No, uh, you’re fine,” you answer quickly, “I’m just…I thought the paperwork kind of covered all that.”

“More or less,” he answers, “however, I’ve found that the person who fills out the forms and the person who ends up sitting across from me are not always of the same mind.”

He reaches a hand into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a silver-plated cigarette case. Although he is not gentleman enough to ask your permission to smoke, he is gentleman enough to offer you a cigarette before taking one of his own. You decline. He shrugs and quickly snaps the case shut before laying it on the table.

“In fact, it’s not uncommon for my clients to have a complete change of heart the second they walk through the door,” he continues, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, “Or, sometimes later on, for that matter. Depends on the person.”

Cigarette held between his teeth, he retrieves a lighter from his right trouser pocket. With a sharp little snick, he ignites it, pulling the little orange flame towards his face and hiding it behind his hand to let it catch.

“Really?”

You watch him intently, the way his eyelids flutter closed at the first inhale. The way his lips pucker around the filter and release, the red-pink sticking slightly as they pull away and let smoky white flow out and fade into the air.

“Really,” he confirms, “once, I had a client step inside, take one look at me, and promptly walk right back out. Never saw them again, which is fine. I’ll never fault someone for doing what’s right for themselves.”

“Are you, uh, trying to talk me out of it?”

“Not at all. Just making you aware of your options,” he says, “Doing anything for the first time is scary. Driving a car, swimming in the ocean, traveling abroad—sex is no different.”

“Yeah, well,” you respond, “you also get to do most of those things with your clothes on, so…”

“Depends on who you’re with.”

You can’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I still want to…you know,” you answer, “uh, do it. The…the sex part.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re supposed to say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he insists, “I can’t imagine anyone being upset at the thought of having a pretty thing like you in their bed.”

“I’m not—“

“Don’t,” he interrupts, taking on a tone that brokers no arguments, “I will suffer many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You are an attractive woman and I refuse to be told otherwise.”

“Sorry, I,” you say sheepishly, “I guess I just…wasn’t expecting you to…like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his cigarette and takes another long, slow drag, “You’re very sweet. A bit shy, maybe, but I happen to like the shy ones.”

And there is something about the way he says it, the way his voice wraps around the words—oh, there are implications to those words, and you find yourself growing warm at the thought of what exactly those implications could entail.

You sip your drink. He smokes. The quiet between you is almost comfortable. Maybe it’s the alcohol working it’s bubbly magic, but you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease in this strange little place.

Moreover, you’re starting to feel a bit more at ease with him. The thought of kissing him crosses your mind, then doubles-back and crosses it again. Oh, that sounds nice. He would be good at it, too; starting gently, mouth pressed soft and sure against your own, and then just the tiniest tease of his tongue—

“And there you go, biting your lip again,” he says, snapping you out of your impromptu fantasy, “You have no idea how sexy that is, do you?”

He is sporting a devilish grin—not only is he aware that you had been daydreaming about him, but he’s relishing the fact that he was able to catch you so off-guard.

“Didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you admit with a shrug. But you can’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of being considered ‘sexy’—you never really let yourself feel that way, but now that it’s happening…oh, it’s nice.

“It’s absolutely delicious, darling. Makes me wonder what else you do when you’re turned on…”

And he’s got you—like a knife held under your chin, his sharp gaze pins you in place. He is impossible to avoid. Not that you particularly want to avoid him—there’s something irresistible about this man, something that you can’t quite name but definitely want more of.

It’s scary.

It’s exciting.

“I’m,” you say with a nervous chuckle, “not really sure, myself. Guess we’ll have to, uh, figure it out together.”

His gaze darkens. He takes one last lungful of nicotine before stubbing out his cigarette.

“I suppose we shall.”

And he’s moving now, sliding himself down so that he’s closer to you. He stops when there is barely an inch of space between the outside of his thigh and your own. His right arm has draped itself over the back of the sofa, the fingertips of his hand now skimming the skin of your shoulder in loose, mindless sweeps.

“Uh,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this but very much enjoying his simple touches, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering,” he clarifies, pausing to let out a soft sigh, “when you’re going to give in and kiss me.”

He plucks the champagne flute from your grasp and sets it on the table in front of you.

“I, uh—“

The fingertips on your shoulder continue to make their idle little circles, almost hypnotic in their swirling pattern. His left hand catches your right wrist, his thumb pressing above where your pulse thrums beneath sensitive skin.

“Bit fast,” he observes, pulling your arm closer as if inspecting it, “Could be nerves, but I think it’s more from excitement, don’t you?”

You have no choice but to lean into him as he brings your hand closer. Your shoulder presses against his arm, and you feel the solid shape of him through the smooth of his suit. He’s strong underneath all of those layers—warm, too, judging from the heat that radiates from his person.

“I’m—“

The thumb that had been testing your pulse inches higher, stopping when it’s pressing into the center of your palm. His eyes lock with yours, a heartbeat of a moment, and brings your wrist closer and closer until his lips are ghosting over your flesh. When he finally decides to make contact, you gasp—it’s a delicate sensation, but sends your heart skipping in a shaking staccato.

And, then.

Then he sucks.

The sound you make is halfway between an oh of surprise and a desperate little moan—oh, wow, that’s really weirdly unexpectedly hot—and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed by your own reaction. He’s not even doing much, not really; just a little bit of pressure, lips parted just enough to let his tongue slip out and have a taste of you.

But, oh, it feels…it feels filthy, it feels decadent, it feels like something you should not be doing but very much want to keep doing for the rest of your life. Takeru’s eyes have since fluttered shut, and he hums the tiniest sound of pleasure as he maintains his seductive tease.

“Please,” you manage to sigh, sounding as breathless as you feel, “please, I, I want you to kiss me.”

His lips release from your wrist with a pucker-pop noise—which was no doubt intentional on his part, and does nothing to quell the thrill of desire in your belly.

“Hm. I’ll make you a deal,” he says, shifting a bit to the left so that he can turn to face you better, “I’ll kiss you for the rest of the night, but right now…you kiss me.”

And what a deal that is—you don’t even have to think about it, head bobbing in an affirmative nod as you wet your lips in anticipation. The hand that had so lovingly held yours is now guiding you to rest your palm just above his knee. You reflexively reach your other hand out to steady yourself, and it lands against his chest before you can stop it.

He’s so close now. There’s barely any space between your faces, barely room to breathe—

“Go on, darling,” he whispers, “if you want me, have me.”

And you do.

You kiss him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The anxiety that has plagued you since the moment you entered the room hasn’t completely dissipated—it would be foolish to think it’d be that easy to banish those feelings completely—but all that is now secondary to the feeling of his mouth on yours.

Kissing Takeru is warm. It’s soft and it’s sure and it’s…comfortable, in a way. Safe, even. He does not press, doesn’t do much of anything except mirror the way your lips slide against his own. A gentle rhythm, a push and pull between the two of you that feels as natural as the moon guiding the tides to shore—yes, kissing him is good and right and something you want to do many times over.

Unfortunately, you have to pull away to breathe. He doesn’t let you go far, though, one hand cupped behind the nape of your neck and the other pressing into the small of your back.

“Oh, you are sweet,” he purrs, his gaze dropping to your freshly-kissed lips, “and, seeing that I’m a man of my word…”

As it turns out, being kissed by Takeru might be better than kissing him, yourself. He is still so very careful when he presses his lips to yours, but this time…this time, there’s fire. He tastes like the best part of a cigarette, like warmth and alcohol and cherries, and it only intensifies as he tests the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Little by little, you begin to test him, too. Hands cradle the curve of his jaw, feeling the way his face shifts as he moves against you. Fingertips run through the soft dark of his hair—oh, he likes that, if the half-sigh that slips from his throat is to be believed. And when you nip at his lower lip with your teeth (he had, after all, very much enjoyed the way you bit your lip earlier), he genuinely moans and pulls you even closer to himself.

It’s when he begins to wander lower, with his mouth skimming the sensitivity of your neck and his hand splayed across your lower back in a way that flirts with the idea of indecency, that you begin to want more. Fear—and maybe that’s not exactly the right word for what you’re feeling, but it’s the only one that comes to mind—begins to creep up the column of your spine.

The “what-if’s” start filling your brain; what if you mess something up? What if you do something he doesn’t like? What if you freeze up later and—

“Alright, darling?”

His voice is a low soothe against your ear; he’s retreated, just a bit, and his hand has wandered to a chaste and respectable area of your mid-back.

“I—“

You want him to take you to bed. You want him to take off your dress and kiss you in all the places you thought weren’t worth kissing, to let his hands trace sparks along the curves of your shape and let him be close to you in a way that no one else has. You want him, despite the uncertain ache that burns between your ribs and bids you to hide yourself away and leave behind the pleasure of his touch.

…But all you can manage is a nervous glance to the bed behind you (the one you had been avoiding thinking about up until this point) and a stammered “Can we, uh…?”

“Ask me,” he says, his index and middle fingers idly skimming the notch in your collarbone, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you ask me.”

It’s difficult to make eye contact with him—every time you try, you feel embarrassment swell up beneath your tongue.

But Takeru is, as you have come to learn over the last hour or so, decidedly patient. He shows no sign of relenting, appearing to be perfectly content with giving you an expectant grin and continuing his little touches as you try not to squirm in your seat.

“I,” you gulp, “I want…“

You bite your lip—oh, wait, he likes that too, and he’s staring at you with those sharp and sultry eyes, and it makes something behind your heart squeeze and unsqueeze itself and punches the air from your lungs and—

“Take me to bed,” you manage to spit out, and it all sounds like one word with how quickly you pushed the words into the air. The “uh, please” you tack on at the end is an afterthought, but perhaps it’s polite enough to pass muster.

“Was that so hard,” Takeru asks with a good-natured chuckle, “but since you asked so nicely…”

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips for a kiss—and even that, after everything, still has you feeling a flutter of something giddy in your stomach.

“Darling,” he says, “it would be my pleasure.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

…and now, you’ll have to wait until chapter two to get to the “good stuff!”

It’s been a challenge writing this—I’m trying to make the scenario believable while still keeping it vague enough to allow for people to make up their own little details. It’s also been unexpectedly difficult to write him, since he’s kind of being himself while also playing a character who’s trying to mold themself into their client’s fantasy…it’s a lot of layers, but it’s been fun trying to figure things out!

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #writings and such #spicy boy #alice in borderland netflix #takeru danma #we did it fellas. we finally wrote the first chapter.#I’ve been working on this for WEEKS #now to write the actual spicy stuff lol oh geez

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

If You Have Half a Brain

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Pina Coladas prompt. You’ve been a bit down on your luck, until one of your customers, who is definitely drunk, strikes up a conversation with you and offers you a job.

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunken antics (mild), mild language, mentions of blood/injuries (very briefly)

Posted: 06/04/2021

Tags: Hoseok x reader, business au,

Slice of Life/Angst/moments of fluff: 11,698 words

A/N: I think it’s been over a month since I posted a story, so here’s over 10k words. Enjoy! Thanks to @kerikaaria for beta reading this

“Sir, you ordered a virgin.”

“Whoa, no! I didn’t even know that this was that kind of place, I mean, kudos on the confidence and I mean that in the best way because you shouldn’t be ashamed—“

“Your drink,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “It’s non-alcoholic. You ordered a virgin drink.”

“What? No I didn’t, I ordered a pina colada!”

“No, our menu doesn’t offer pina coladas. What you ordered was our Niño colada, which is from our non-alcoholic menu. I apologize for any inconvenience, but if this is you with a little bit of alcohol, then I think you should stick to sobriety.”

He stared at you, slack-jawed and blinking. “Why don’t you have pina coladas?”

You sighed. “We don’t stock rum.”

He made a choked sound. “The…rum…is gone?”

“Yes. The rum is gone.” You had a sinking feeling that you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Why is the rum always gone?!” He exclaimed, flopping onto the table.

“From your behavior, I’m going to assume you’ve consumed every last drop of it, Captain Sparrow,” You replied dryly. Well, your boss was right. You were not cut out for this job. “Now, if you’re not going to order something else, I’m going to go turn in my apron and start job hunting again.”

“Wait! Wait! Do you like piña coladas?” He asked, catching the pocket of your apron.

“I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are anything along the lines of ‘and getting caught in the rain’ I will murder you without regret.”

His teeth clicked shut. His eyes darted over your face. “But do you?”

You took a deep breath. “I can’t stand coconut.”

“You…don’t like…coconut?” He looked horrified. “Then…coconut chicken?”

“Ew.”

“Coconut ice cream?”

“Waste of sugar and time, a lot like this conversation. I don’t like coconut. I hate it when people cook in coconut oil because saying it’s tasteless is Bull.” You crossed your arms. “New drink or what?”

He stared at you for a while, then smiled softly. “You’re too good for this job, anyway. You should work for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come work for me.”

“Repeating that doesn’t tell me what you’re saying.”

“I own a company. I need someone who can deal with trash like me and keep them away from me. You do not have to be polite to the trash either.” He leaned his chin on a propped-up fist. “Your job would quite honestly be saying what was on your mind and telling me and anyone else off.” He looked and sounded surprisingly sober compared to before.

“Please tell me you didn’t use piña coladas to test a potential hire.”

He grinned. “Not intentionally.”

I folded your arms, trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. “You’re not saying this because you’re drunk, are you?”

“I’m not drunk!” He argued, eyes wide. “I’ve only had one glass of wine!”

You cringed. “At least tell me it was a large one.”

“N-not particularly.”

“Oh dude, either your acting is pretty on point, or you’re a serious lightweight and should stick to the non-alcoholic menu.” You shook your head.

His already flushed cheeks turned more red. “Wha—“ he huffed. “Do you want the job or not?”

You considered it, a little surprised you were even considering it, and shrugged. “Not sure I believe you still.”

He huffed and fumbled to pull out his wallet, fumbled more, then handed you a business card. “That’s me. Call or show up or anything. My personal cards are like golden tickets.”

You took the card warily.

The side of the cards facing you had a phone number in shimmering gold lettering, and the other side looked like a splash of summer colors—Bold black lettering spelling out his name and the name of the company.

“Hoseok Jung, CEO of HopeWorld Incorporated,” you read aloud, a little…skeptical. “If you are this person, what the heck do you want me for?”

“Honestly…I need someone sensible who won’t just try to stay on my good side. I need someone who will risk their job to threaten anyone that is being ridiculous with murder. I’m bad at that. I need a spiky person cause I’m just…I have things I’m strong on, but there are times when I just need someone to say things like they are. No bull.”

“And based on our interactions here, you think that’s me?”

He nodded. “I only played up the antics a bit.”

“Do you often hire your waitresses?”

He grinned. “No, but I have found most of my best people by chance. One other waiter, but I knew him before.”

“Your best people?”

“You’ve heard of my company?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Then you’ve heard the names Suga, RM, and V.”

You paused. “Yes.”

“Suga and I met at a club. RM and I met in a museum, and I met V when I was at an animal shelter.” He shrugged. “We had a good rapport. I offered them jobs. My friends over there are also part of my inner circle. It would have been better if you liked piña coladas, but you should still be okay with them.”

You stared over to where his friends were goofing off in the pool. Those idiot men were part of the inner circle of one of the biggest companies ever? The company that….

Two screeched as they went into the water, losing the game of chicken.

“They are part of your brain trust? Is the one even old enough for alcohol?”

“Yeah, he just tends to pick people up when he’s buzzed.”

“So, scandal prone.”

“No, no, I mean physically lift them. Usually just us. He’s not really a social person. Just us.”

“Ah.” You weren’t sure what to make of that.

“Actually—“

“Y/n! I’m not paying you to stand around!”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m done after I finish discussing our menu with this gentleman, Sir.” You called back, then turned to Hoseok. “How much would I be paid?”

“To start...how about $16 an hour?”

You stared at him. “$16 an hour?”

“Plus benefits, we have an excellent benefits program.”

“$16 an hour?” You repeated, a little shocked and numb. Plus benefits, even if you only worked there for a week, you’d be able to cover all of your expenses.

“Alright, okay, fine, $18 an hour—but no more than that until we know if it will work out. Then we can discuss raises. Deal?” He stuck his hand out.

You considered it for a moment, then shook his hand. “Right. Okay. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow, 8 a.m.”

You nodded. “Business dress?”

He shrugged, “If you like. Just dress nicely.”

You nodded. “Fine. Okay. See you then. I have a job to quit.”

He nodded with a smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

———

If you had thought that your means of obtaining this job had been strange, nothing had prepared you for your first day working there.

You had dressed well, wearing your favorite interview outfit because it was the nicest outfit you owned and you would be shopping later today so you knew what you needed to buy.

You entered the sleek looking building, and went to the reception desk. “Hello, I was told to come in today.” You pulled out the business card and showed it to the secretary.

Her eyes widened. “Whoa. You met Mr. Jung?”

“Uhm, yes. Yes I did. And he told me to come in today, at eight.”

“Right, okay, um, let me get you a temporary I.D.so you can get around today, and you’ll have to talk to H.R. later about your permanent one. Take this, and then head up to the top floor, he’ll want you to report straight to his office. At least, that’s what protocol states.”

You nodded, absorbing the information easily. “Top floor, his office, report to HR later for a permanent ID. Return this at the end of the day?”

“Yes, thank you, and good luck on your first day!” She practically sang, going back to her computer.

You slid the ID necklace over your head and went straight for the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor.

The way she spoke was almost like she had never met the CEO, which seemed unlikely to you, but maybe you were just misreading it.

The top floor was as quiet as the rest of the building, and you had a feeling most employees didn’t start until 9. But there was faint music coming from the biggest office—the CEO’s office.

You took a breath to steady yourself and then knocked on the door.

“Come on in, y/n!”

You shook your head slightly and did as told, walking into the office.

Entering the building, you had been pleasantly surprised by the way everything seemed light and airy, with bright splashes of color in appropriate amounts in the appropriate places, making it feel less like an office and more of a...you weren’t sure what it felt like, but it felt nicer than an office.

Entering Hoseok Jung’s office had a similar effect. There were knickknacks, but they weren’t overwhelming, and splashes of color were all throughout the room, but was balanced by a sort of modern elegance of his sleek office furniture and the immense natural lighting.

“Do you like it?”

You considered it all. “It’s not to my taste, but it is well balanced and I can appreciate the aesthetic.”

He grinned. “See, you’re already doing better.”

“The receptionist acts like she’s never seen you before.”

“Oh, well, most people only see J-Hope, one of the senior workers who reports directly to Mr. Jung. That’s how I got into the business to take it over from my father.” He shrugged. “Eventually, they’ll find out that J-Hope is me, but for now, J-Hope is well-liked. My ‘brain trust’ as you called them, will be here in about half an hour, which gives us time. Come on, I’ll show you to your office. Remember, it’s not your job to make friends, it’s your job to call things as you see them.”

You shrugged. “And if that means holding my tongue?”

“Then I trust you to say something later, when you deem the time to be right.”

“You know this is crazy, right?”

He grinned. “I know that you think it’s crazy, but I’m glad you’re telling me.”

You shook your head as you followed him out, noting that he wasn’t wearing a full suit. More like slacks and a shirt that wasn’t a button-up, but also wasn’t a plain t-shirt? Very loose-fitting, possibly a few sizes too big. His slacks weren't even slack, not really. Just grey, loose-fitting pants.

“You don’t dress much like a CEO.”

He chuckled. “I know. Jimin tells me that all the time, trust me, I do when I have to. But J-Hope likes loose clothing.”

You shook your head a bit.

“This will be your office.”

“It’s right next to yours.”

“Well, you are going to be my left-hand person. Left hand office.”

You followed him into the office that was way too good to be true.

“Obviously you can decorate it as you like, outside of the desk. The desk chair you get to choose from a magazine that we use for office supplies. We also ask that you don’t break any walls or windows.”

“I have a balcony,” you breathed.

“Yeah. There’s actually a door out there that connects our balconies, my side is pretty much never locked, but you can lock your side as well.”

“Like in hotels.”

“Yes.”

“So, if I'm your left, who’s your right?”

“Suga. Yoongi. You’ll like him, I think.” He picked up a random sticky note, looking amused. “Last guy didn’t clean out very well, sorry.”

“Shouldn’t a janitor have made it in here since?”

He paused. “Oh. Yes.”

“Which makes me wonder when the last time anything up here has been cleaned.” You ran a finger over the desk, nose wrinkling in disgust at the dust on your fingers.

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

“I need to wash my hands,” You said, feeling a little contaminated. “Bathrooms.”

“This way.”

The bathrooms on the top floor were actual bathrooms, as in, one toilet and sink per room instead of the public bathroom style. There were three of them, mostly the same size, but one also had a larger vanity area with drawers under it.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to follow you in, but this bathroom is one that we usually keep locked, so if you want to keep makeup or other things in here, no one uses the third drawer over right now.” He tapped it. “You’ll be getting a key to it later today, so you can put it in later if you need to.”

You nodded, wrinkling your nose at the smell of the soap. “Oh, you’re kidding me. Piña colada soap?”

He chuckled, scratching his neck. “You can also bring in your own soap. Yoongi does. He just hasn’t replaced his yet.”

You shook your head. “Right.”

“If it helps, it’s only that during the summer.”

“What is it in winter? Eggnog?”

He shook his head. “Cinnamon rolls.”

“Are you all trying to psychologically torture yourselves?” You asked, drying your hands. “Piña coladas when you have to work, cinnamon rolls to make yourself hungry….”

Hoseok shrugged.

You sighed. “Alright. Where to now?”

“Morning meeting.” He waved for you to follow him, and led the way down to a conference room. “Jimin and Tae bring coffee and pastries and we go over our agendas and projects. Today that will include introducing you. I do have one thing to ask, and it might be inappropriate so if it is you can just hit me—“

“Or you could just not ask it.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

You helped straighten the chairs, seeing the frown on his face at how disheveled the room was. “So, what will I be doing today, besides accompanying you to fire the janitor.”

He cringed. “Well, tour the company. Stop by HR. Meet the security team. Talk to the janitorial staff and threaten firing them to improve their work ethic. Then if that doesn’t work, yes, you will be there to help me fire people.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be the bad guy. You keep your J-Hope persona.” You sighed. “Really? No one caught onto you being the CEO with the name J-Hope?”

He just grinned again. “Best disguise is right under your nose.”

“The best disguise is an effective one that actually exists.”

“I’m glad I met you,” He responded with a light laugh.

“I’ve been criticizing you since I arrived.” You actually felt guilty about that, but only slightly. You weren’t about to lose sleep over it.

He just smiled. “You’ve been honest. I…I really missed honesty.”

“Your inner circle aren’t honest?”

“They are…but they’re…it’s different. Sometimes you need to shake things up. I think we all need shaking up.”

You frowned. “Okay. Level with me: what happened?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What happened to make you think that things need to be shaken up?”

His face relaxed, eyes seeming to glaze as they shifted to the meeting table. “I…uh, I lost someone I cared about. You know that cruise ship disaster?”

You nodded. “HopeWorld donated a whole lot of money to cover the bills of those injured, and help cover funeral bills for others. Some people wondered if you guys had some sort of stock in the cruise ship or had been involved in the explosion, but you were just being kind. Plus by helping them out financially they could stand up to the cruise company.”

He shrugged, but also nodded. “And I needed a reason to be there. Looking.”

“Girlfriend or boyfriend?”

He choked out a laugh. “Yeah. And my sister and her husband. And my parents. I was supposed to join them at a different port.”

You felt like you’d been sucker-punched. “Oh my God.”

“Didn’t lose all of them. My dad is still in the hospital, Mom is home but she visits him everyday.” He rubbed his neck. “My sister's husband went back to work just a week ago, and he’s not having an easy time of it, but he’s pushing on. My sister hasn’t woken up yet, but we’re still hopeful. I hope she wakes up soon. She’s the other person I always relied on to be honest with me.”

You slowly nodded. “And your…significant other?”

“Idiot died. One of the lifeboats got stuck on release. Climbed out and cut the rope. Snapped back.” He shrugged again.

“Could have been worse,” You murmured, clenching a fist. You knew that description. You gave that description.

“Ok, this is one time when maybe you shouldn’t be honest.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Hey, my step-dad died because he thought he could swallow a golf ball and decided to try when no one was home. My younger brother tail-gated a semi. My father died from a sliver after saving eight school-age children.” You shrugged. “There are all sorts of ways to go out of this world. Doing the right thing…the heroic thing, that counts for a lot in my book. But there is such a thing as stupidly heroic.”

He stared at you wide-eyed. “A…golf ball?”

You shrugged. “I believe I implied that he wasn’t intelligent.”

Hoseok snorted and then started laughing. “I-I’m sorry!”

You smiled. “Good. Your brain trust will be here soon.”

“Did he…did he really…?”

“It was a little more complicated, and there was booze involved, but essentially, yes.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so heartbroken.”

You shrugged. “Life goes on.”

“What does it go on from?” A new voice asked.

You turned to see one of the boys from the pool yesterday.

He looked you up and down, and offered a slight smile and his hand. “Hey. You must be the waitress that Hobi got so excited about hiring yesterday. I’m Taehyung, or, as the media knows me, V.”

You shook his hand. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you like Pina Coladas?” Taehyung asked, setting the box of what you assumed were pastries on the table.

“No.”

He froze a bit. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But...why? Wait...oh no...you don’t like them?” He stared at the box of pastries.

You looked at the box. “Let me guess, non-alcoholic pina colada donuts.”

“We don’t normally get them, I just saw them and I thought it’d be fun….” He looked completely dejected. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I ate breakfast anyway. I had an omelet, and I have a chocolate muffin in my packed lunch in my office. So, if you would like, I can get that and you can pretend you got it specially for me because I got it from the same shop.”

He gasped. “Their chocolate muffins are amazing.”

“Do you want me to pretend?”

He considered it a moment.

“He doesn’t want everyone to be eating and not you,” Hoseok chuckled. “He’s sweet like that.”

You nodded. “Did the door to my office get locked?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I left it open so that you could get in and out without your keys, and so we could send a janitor in after the meeting. Maybe put your things in our breakroom for now.”

You nodded sharply.

“I’ll get it, if that’s okay with you?” Taehyung said.

You shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

He bounced a bit as he raced out.

“Good job, offering to lie on your first day.” Hoseok looked amused.

“He looked like a kicked puppy. I’m honest, not abusive and heartless. Besides, it’s more to make him feel good. Most people would figure it out, right away.”

Hoseok nodded. “I guess so.”

“It doesn’t breach my not-yet-existing contract to lie, does it?”

He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Both of you fell quiet as Taehyung came back and slipped the muffin into the box of donuts (carefully).

Then several men arrived at about the same time.

“Hi, y/n! I’m Jimin, and I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got you a chocolate crème frappuccino. Is that okay?”

You nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. Thank you.” You took the cup and studied where they were sitting before taking a seat yourself--at the left hand of Hoseok--when he indicated for you to sit there.

“For the future, what do you normally drink?”

“This,” You answered, smiling. “I try to limit my caffeine intake.”

“Great, I’ll add it to my list and we can discuss alternatives later.” Jimin opened the donut box. “Tae, what have you done?”

“Pina colada donuts,” Tae answered, grinning. “And a muffin for y/n.”

Half of the boys had already grabbed a donut, or were in the process of doing so, but all seemed to freeze a bit.

“Why a muffin for y/n?”

“I don’t like coconut,” You answered, shrugging.

“Wait...at all?” One of them asked, eyes wide.

You sighed. “Nope. That is possible, you know. Just like I’m sure the odds are in my favor that at least one of you doesn’t like seafood. One of you probably doesn’t like coffee, one of you probably doesn’t like tea, and a few of you probably don’t like mint ice-cream.”

They all seemed to be surprised and yet also guilty.

“Well….”

One huffed. “Why did you hire her again? She doesn’t even like pina coladas.”

“Not everyone does,” Hoseok replied easily. “Shall we start our morning download?”

You studied the others as they dug into their donuts, wondering where the odd obsession with pina coladas came from--not for the first time. But they weren’t the only people you’d ever met with the obsession, and you doubted they would be the last.

“Besides, it can’t hurt us to look at things other than pina coladas.”

“Please,” One of them grumbled. “I don’t want to get sick of them.”

“Fine. Then let me ask this,” the huffy one asked. “Y/n, what is your beverage of choice?”

You met his gaze evenly, calculating all of the answers he could expect and all of the answers you could give him. But one stuck out as particularly perturbing for someone like him and a situation like this.

You leaned forward, smiled slightly, and answered, “Water.”

His eyes widened and he spluttered. “Water?”

“Water,” You confirmed cheerfully. “If I have to choose anything, I choose water.”

“Great, you can be the designated driver,” Taehyung joked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Huffy sat down, looking like he lost five years off of his life. “No way can we do a water theme….”

“If we could get back to what we’re being paid to be here for, that’d be great,” You said, in a tone that was too sweet to be honest.

Hoseok chuckled a little. “Right. Y/n is here to keep things...possible and practical. Her job is to be bluntly and brutally honest about things. After she gets a feel for this place, I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable giving us all a piece of her mind. She’ll be shadowing me as J-Hope, and I’m not going to announce her job title for a while.”

“Because you don’t know what to call my job?”

“Pretty much. Anyway, as you guys know, we’re...running a little thin right now, and that’s on me. We’re going to be tightening up the ship, and making sure we’re running properly. Jimin, I need finances from across the company. Tae, I need all of the reports from HR. Jin and Jungkook, I want a list and summary of all of the projects we’re working on right now. Yoongi and Namjoon: keep working on that one project. Anything I need to know right now?”

“We have that event tomorrow, with the food trucks, and we need to decide on the judges.”

“Okay, so, we let everyone who wants to judge put their name on a list, then we’ll draw names from a hat. Jimin’s on the judgement panel as well.”

“I am?”

“You’ll eat anything, the rest of us are too picky. And Jungkook will be filming.” Hoseok made a couple of notes. “I have to talk to our janitorial staff, and y/n will be with me. They haven’t been cleaning up here like they’re supposed to. Y/n’s office was disgusting, and this room was a mess.”

“Uh oh. Firing anyone?”

“He wants to see if talking to them will fix the issue first,” You said dryly. “Which, in my experience, is a waste of time. There’s always someone dragging their feet and I bet if we looked through the HR reports, or even sent me in under cover for a few hours, we’d be able to pinpoint the weak link and remove it from the chain.”

“She’s got a point. I could take her down and tell them she’s doing some work in each department. We’ve done that before, for people who were actually working for one of the departments.” Jimin clicked his pen a couple of times.

Hoseok considered it a moment while he worked on a bite of his donut, then nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll do that. You might need different clothing. If it takes more than a couple of hours, don’t worry about it. If this works, we’ll put you in different departments as though you were experiencing everything. Because I think we need a spy in the HR department as well. Plus anything you find about employee welfare and happiness, that’s always a good thing. We’ll say you’re one of Jimin’s random hires. Get it done.”

Jimin nodded, then checked you over. “They’ll give her a uniform, so we don’t need to worry about her clothing. Maybe just fix your hair so that you look more like ‘random girl’ instead of ‘sophisticated lady’.”

“Did you just call me a lady?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Jimin shrugged.

“Anyway, finish things here, then y/n dress down and we’ll discuss your work later today. You’ll eat lunch with us, Jimin, make sure to mention that.” Hoseok wrote a couple more things down. “I’ll be in my office, reviewing things. I’ll let you know at lunch what the real plan is. We’re gonna change things.”

“Okay,” Huffy said firmly. “That’s that then. Donuts done, coffee drunk, work to do. Off we go. The sooner we work, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get a drink.”

That seemed to be the signal for everyone to get up and get moving.

You followed Jimin out, letting him lead you to the bathroom. “Sophisticated lady?”

“Make your hair more casual, maybe remove some of your makeup. And lose the jacket.”

You sighed and did as you were told as he disappeared for a moment, returning with a different shirt and a sweater.

“Try these.”

You looked at them, a little concerned.

“They’re clean, trust me. And they’re more casual than what you’re wearing.”

You waved him out of the room again, changing into the new shirt and sweater, a little disturbed at how well they fit. “Where did you get these?” You asked, opening the door again.

“Someone left them behind. Can’t remember when, can’t remember who, just remember they didn’t work here.” He checked his own hair while you switched your hair from a bun to a nice-looking pony-tail. “Can’t even remember why her shirt and sweater were left behind. Think she borrowed one of mine?”

You stared at him. “Did you sleep with this girl?”

He turned back to you with a half-smile. “No. I was drunk, but no. My boyfriend at that time wouldn’t have been too thrilled.”

“Do you have baggage about said boyfriend as your friend does about the significant other that he lost?” You asked, studying the impish man in front of you.

Jimin’s smile died a bit. “Told you about that, did he?”

“More or less. Focused more on the ones that survived rather than the one that died. So, baggage: yes or no?”

Jimin came and stood right in front of you, then moved closer, reaching and closing the bathroom door, locking it.

You clenched a fist, just in case.

“Baggage...yes. Same ship. All of us, the whole board, everyone in there. My boyfriend...we were at the point of breaking up anyway, so I feel guilty about that, because he wouldn’t have been there if I had. Hoseok was going to propose. Namjoon’s childhood friend. Yoongi’s girlfriend was paralyzed, and her brain...she only recognizes her family and she’s...not doing well. Two of Taehyung’s friends. Jungkook’s brother. Seokjin’s whole family, except his nephew. He jokes about drinking, but he really just wants to get to the daycare at a decent time. If he knows he has to stay late, he has a babysitter that brings his nephew here. Hoseok feels a lot of responsibility because he was the one who suggested we have a board retreat and invite family and friends. Seokjin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook were all there when it happened. Myself, Yoongi, and Hoseok were delayed because of an emergency on a project we were heading up.”

You nodded slowly. “Got it. So, this company is being run by seven people who have undergone a whole lot of trauma and grief in the past six months. That doesn’t sound at all like a recipe for disaster.” Eight, a little voice whispered, eight if you’re included.

Jimin nodded a bit. “Right. What did you lose in that accident?”

You held his gaze steadily. “The will to please others with false actions and honeyed words.”

Jimin’s head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed just a bit.

“My older brother worked on that ship, one of the engineers. He’d been filing reports like a good little worker bee about some of the issues they were seeing, but the reports were being ignored. He was threatened, and told to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his job. He told me, I told him to fight, to make sure no one got on that damn ship.”

“But he didn’t,” Jimin whispered, gaze shifting away from you.

“But I gave the people suing that company everything they needed to win their case, especially with HopeWorld providing the financial means for everyone to fight. It was serious neglect on their part, but even I was too pliant to do anything about it. So I’m done. I’m done trying to please others and put up with their crap and if you don’t unlock that door, I’m sorry, but I might punch you.”

He unlocked it. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ve been dealing with too many thugs from the cruise company. That’s why I was job hunting. That’s why I got that job at the bar. It was a favor that a friend called in from the owner, but they both thought I was a bad fit. I was just desperate. And then Hoseok came in drunk on one glass of wine and complaining about a virgin pina colada.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t stop talking about virgins,” Jimin muttered. “He kept saying something about virgins being confident, and that he wished he was that confident, and that he was joking about not ordering virgins and it was all weird.”

“He should not be allowed to drink.”

“Well, normally he’s a sober and sleepy drunk, so, yesterday was a bit of an outlier. Happiest I’d seen him in a while, though. Especially after he met you.” He was studying you again.

“If you have something to say, then say it. I told you, I’m not waiting around for BS.”

“You’re not like the person he lost, I can tell that right away. But you’re the first person he’s shown...interest in. I guess I’m just curious about what he saw that intrigued him so much.”

“My winning personality and barbed words,” You answered, then grabbed your wallet from your purse and tucked it into your pocket, shoving the purse into the empty drawer that Hoseok had pointed out earlier. “What was the person he lost like?”

“Soft, a little...out-there, artistic, wild dreamer, adventurous, spontaneous,” Jimin listed, then shrugged. “Different.”

You paused to look at Jimin again. “When you said he’s taken an interest in me, did you mean….”

“Possibly romantically. Not definite, but there’s always a few different paths interest in other people can take us, isn’t there. If you’re anything like I’m assuming you are, you’d actually be a good match for him.” Jimin walked out. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”

-----

You were undercover in HopeWorld for a week before you finally were able to return and start moving into your office--having turned in a twenty-page report on your findings while working undercover.

And it was spotlessly clean this time, and there was a computer there. It was even sporting a nice, new plant in the one corner with a card that read it was from all of the other board members.

The winky-face said that Taehyung had been in charge of delivering it and writing the note.

So you set to unpacking the small box of office supplies that you were bringing in.

You were getting a corkboard and a whiteboard later, plus two more chairs so that anyone else in your office could sit down (or you could switch seats through the day if you needed to), and you definitely planned on bringing some more plants here since it got more sunlight than your tiny flat did.

So you unpacked a couple of empty binders, sheafs of paper, a few notebooks, your new pens and pencils, and your pen and pencil holders. You set a photo-frame on your desk. You pulled out a bottle of lotion and put it in one of your desk drawers.

And that’s where you found the photo of Hoseok with the person that had to be his lover.

“Of course,” You murmured, sighing, then you set the photo aside to return to him at your meeting later.

In the past week, you’d gotten a pretty good read on most of the boys, even Yoongi.

But Seokjin was distant, and kept you distant. He didn’t stick around on the days you were in what was technically his department, instead finding an excuse to be elsewhere.

Taehyung and Jimin had both shrugged when you told them that Seokjin was avoiding you.

“Don’t see why he would,” Jimin said, and you knew he was being honest.

It was fine. The boys weren’t your job anyway. Your job was to look at things practically, find problems or potential problems, and present them to people who could fix them. Your job was to question everything so that every eventuality is considered and the best product of the workers' time is produced.

“That’s not a very big box for such a big office.”

You jumped and dropped the stapler, but jumped back so that it wouldn’t staple you on accident (something that had, unfortunately, happened before). “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Seokjin shrugged, strolling in casually and picking it up. “Not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” You asked, wondering what could have brought the illusive man to your office before the morning meeting. According to the others, and your own experiences, he was always just barely on time for the meeting.

He just looked at you carefully. “Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer?”

“Fire away,” You replied, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

He moved closer so he was looking you in the eye. “Why did you take this job?”

You frowned a bit, stepping back and trying to figure out why he was asking that. But also, how to answer.

“Please answer honestly.”

“Jimin told you about my brother, the cruise ship?”

“Yes. He told all of us, Hoseok too. Hoseok had his suspicions. I don’t think they know that you were on the ship as well.”

You huffed out a laugh and leaned against your desk. “Good. I don’t need any of that nonsense.”

He nodded. “You were answering my question.”

You took a deep breath and then released it, looking at the ceiling. “Desperation. Have to pay the rent. And he seemed...optimistic.” There was something appealing to that optimism. Something familiar and comfortable. Refreshing.

“What did he tell you your job was going to be?”

“Dealing with trash that tried to get near him.”

“What’s on your resume?”

“Nothing to make me qualify for this office. And if you think I’m here because I’m taking advantage of his kindness...I can’t say that you’re wrong, but I’m also just curious about what he intends for me. Don’t think that I enjoy saying that someone is dead weight. They’re people, and they need to make a living somehow, but they need to make that living honestly. THere are people who want jobs, who need jobs, who are actually willing to put in the work.”

“So, going undercover…?”

“It was a solution that would alleviate the feelings of guilt that our boss might have felt if we hadn’t fully investigated and ended up firing someone. Besides, he strikes me as a bit of a neat freak, so I figure the janitorial staff should be top-notch. I did hear a rumor that J-Hope had liberated a cleaning cart and taken it to the top floor, though.”

Jin sighed, shaking his head. “He really hasn’t trusted the cleaning staff since your first day.”

“Lovely. Did he clean this office?”

“Gotta admire his work ethic.”

You shook your head. “So, I’m not the only person who’s almost completely in the dark about what my job actually is, am I?”

“I think he keeps rethinking what he wants for you.”

“And you’ve been avoiding me because…?”

He shrugged a bit. “I haven’t. It’s been a bad week for my nephew. I’ve been in and out of the office all week. Plus I’ve been working with Hobi.”

You both jumped as someone banged on your office door.

Hoseok threw it open with a grin, then halted, surprised. “Oh, hyung.”

“Hey, Hoseok-y. Y/n and I were just talking. I’ll leave you two to discuss y/n’s job. Because I think we’re all confused about it.” Seokjin took one of your paperclips and left.

Hoseok looked after him in confusion. “Did he ask if he could take that paperclip?”

“Um, no, but it’s just a paperclip. You read the report?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good work on that. Sorry you were thrown into it so soon after starting.”

“You mean my first day.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Your first day. So, I’ve figured out what your story is going to be.”

“My story?”

“Whenever a higher-up is brought in, they’re presented to the company. There are already rumors about a higher-up being brought into Mr. Jung’s board, and it’s extremely unorthodox for us to not present you within the first two weeks. So, we’ve got a couple days leeway to get you settled into your actual job.”

“I’m pretty sure that was part of my actual job.”

“Right. Anyway, I thought we might tell people that you’re the eyes and ears of Mr. Jung, and that one of your jobs is ensuring that we are at top potential.”

“Ok.”

“Which is basically what we already said, but I want to make it clear that you are in direct communication with HR and all reports go to you at the end of the day. I’m just having trouble coming up with your title.”

“Quality manager?”

He paused. “Ok, you’re really good. How have you not worked in a job like this before?”

“Hard times, big sacrifices. So, if I’m understanding things correctly, you want me to look through the reports on behaviors and such and make sure they’re looked into and that we’re paying attention, but also you want me to check in on projects and make sure we’re asking all the right questions.”

“Exactly. Quality manager is an excellent way of describing that job. But also, your job is to keep people from trying to see Mr. Jung. Mr. Jung has enough on his plate.”

You nodded. “I can do that. Shall we practice? I read through the notes on that memory core device.”

He grinned. “Sounds great. But first, the morning meeting.”

You nodded. “Thank you for cleaning my office, by the way.”

He just smiled back. “I can’t stand messes.”

“I gathered. You’ve got a pretty big one downstairs, though.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of dreading firing people though.”

“Then let me handle it. You can be there as a known authoritative figure and I’ll do the talking.”

“They might get mad at you for spying.”

“Then I trust you to handle their subsequent anger appropriately. I’ll try to keep things professional.”

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“Even offering to do any of this. I wasn’t really ready to take on the boss position. But I can’t sit by while people abuse their place in this company. I have to deal with the messes. My family didn’t build this legacy for me to let it fall apart.” His gaze was darker, but held determination to continue forward. A sternness to see things through.

The side of J-Hope that was the CEO of HopeWorld.

“I think once you get over the first trials you’ll be just fine.”

He looked at you in surprise. “You think?”

“I believe,” you amended. “I believe you are capable of being a great leader. I believe even though you are generous and compassionate, you will be able to handle the harder parts of this job for the good of the many employees who are doing their jobs to the best of their ability. Because that’s what it means when people are fired. The waste they accumulate is returned to the company and those that are still with it can benefit, or others who need the job take it and actually accomplish it. You’re improving efficiency, which makes the company prosper so you can do more for your employees.”

He slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

You nodded. “Look at me: I could actually afford a new work outfit.”

He grinned, looking you over. “And it’s a great outfit.”

Okay. You hadn’t expected that.

“Are you implying something inappropriate?”

“Never. I just think it’s a very appropriate look and that it is very good at accentuating your good looks. You’re very good at shopping.”

You weren’t. Not really. Taehyung and Jimin had tagged along and helped you shop because you weren’t sure what would be best for the job and position. You had picked the items out, but Jimin and Taehyung had helped you style them together and decide on them.

“Sounds inappropriate to me.”

He chuckled. “Can’t you just take the compliment? It’s early.”

“If you compliment me, people might think that you’re showing favoritism.”

“Let them,” He answered easily, shrugging and holding the door open for you.

“Are you drunk again? I told you, you really shouldn’t drink.” You folded your arms.

He just laughed. “In. We’re late.”

“If we are, it’s your fault,” You replied, walking in and waving to the other men.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of blaming you. Morning, everyone.” Hoseok took his seat. “What’s the day look like?”

“Same as yesterday, except whatever you and y/n are up to. My project is almost ready to present, Seokjin’s coming to help me today.”

“I do have my nephew today, he’s having a bad day,” Seokjin said quietly, making notes.

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said firmly, Namjoon merely nodding. “People like seeing him, and we’ve always said that kids are welcome as long as they don’t disturb others.”

“And he can come to my office anytime,” Taehyung said with a fond grin.

Seokjin nodded. “I have a meeting with my division just before lunch?”

Taehyung grinned. “We can color!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Work, Taehyung. He can color, you can design.”

“Right. Right. That.”

“I need Yoongi-hyung’s help on the memory-core project.”

Hoseok looked mildly intrigued, glancing at you.

“I can head down after I check on my project. Might be an hour or so.” Yoongi checked his watch.

Hoseok nodded. “And we’ll be there in about two hours so that Y/n can look things over as my second set of eyes.”

Jungkook looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “O-oh, o-o-okay.”

The others looked mildly surprised, but quickly moved on.

“I’ll be on phone meetings to organize that event most of the morning. Our employees really enjoyed the food truck war, and it’s summer, so I think it’s best to try and have enjoyable events as frequently as possible during the weeks we can’t give them 3-day weekends.” Jimin twirled his pen as he spoke, looking over something on his planner.

“I’ll leave it in your hands, just don’t go over budget.” Hoseok jotted a few things down. “Okay. Y/n and I have to deal with some unsatisfactory employees, then we’ll be down to see how things are going with the memory core. Not sure about our afternoon, but I might leave that for her to settle in. How does that sound to you?”

“If ‘settle in’ means looking over reports, then that sounds fine.”

He nodded, flipping his book closed. “Alright. Then off we go.”

You got up and followed him out, and into the elevator.

“It’ll be best to go to them since it would draw a lot of attention to bring them up. We need the head of janitorial service with us as well, and I want to apprise her of what’s going to happen before we do it. You were smart to record the conversation, I’ll present that to Chiseul.”

Chiseul had been in charge of sanitation at the company for eight years, she was kind, but firm and had no patience for slacking. When you’d worked under her, even for a day, you could tell she expected the best. She had put who she thought were her best people in charge of cleaning the top floor, but instead they had been doing very basic cleaning and actually stealing from the company.

Her reaction to finding out was silent fury. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fire them?”

“We believe that it’s best for us to handle it, that way others will know that they can’t pull anything. I’m sorry we deceived you,” You said respectfully, because you did respect her. You’d put in your report that she should get a raise.

Hoseok nodded. “We will be implementing a system to keep people accountable soon.”

She accepted that with a sharp nod and then went to call those who would be fired into her office.

Hoseok groaned as soon as the elevator doors closed. “That could have gone better.”

------

You held the ice to your face and shrugged. “Could have gone worse. Security stepped in at the appropriate time. And I didn’t fight back, which means I can’t be charged with assault should they try anything like that. There were also multiple witnesses.”

“But you got hurt,” He argued, rubbing his face. “You got hurt.”

“So, I’ll have a black eye. I walk to work, so it’s not like I’ll be driving while mildly impaired. We got ice on it pretty quickly, and I don’t think it will end up being too bad of a black eye.”

“You got hurt,” He whispered.

“And I’m fine. Hoseok, we’re on our way to look over a major project in your company. Pull yourself together.” You reached over and straightened his collar. “It’s a bruise, not a fatal wound.”

He caught your wrist, holding you in place so he could move the ice pack with his other hand and see, the whole time his expression holding worry and what might have been nausea. “Why would they attack you? I was there too. Why would they only attack you?”

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t listening.

“Betrayal,” You answered anyway, sighing a little and forcing the ice-pack back to your face.

“Uh, you two coming out of there or do you need another moment?” Yoongi asked, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you, not seeming to care that he’d startled both of you since you’d been too busy looking at one another to realize the elevator was open. But his gaze stuck on the ice pack. “Shit, they hit you?”

“Don’t you start too,” You groaned, exiting the elevator.

Hoseok stopped you, pulling you back so he could look at your eye again. “Hyung, look at her eye.”

Yoongi frowned a bit more, but complied. His eyes widened a bit. “Uh…infirmary.”

“Thought so.” Hoseok pulled you back into the elevator.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned.

Yoongi just shushed you. “Your eye looks bloody.”

“Oh.” Well, that was special. It didn’t especially hurt, but that might be because you were numbing the area.

But Hoseok ended up taking you to the hospital for evaluation.

As the two of you walked out of the hospital, you sighed for the fortieth time. “Told you I was fine.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“He said that I should be fine and to come back in if my eye gets worse or I start having other issues. It was probably her ring that got me.” You glanced at your watch. “Man, I’m not going to experience a regular workday, am I?”

His head dropped. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’d probably get bored if it got too quiet. And feeling sorry doesn’t do any good. You didn’t hurt me, so you’re wasting energy by being sorry.”

“I know, but I got you into this job—“

“Are you thirsty?” You asked, stopping.

“What?”

“Are you thirsty?” You asked slowly.

“Um, I guess?”

You nodded and pulled him into the restaurant, dragging him to the bar.

“I don’t think you should have alcohol—“

“Hi, can I get a water with lemon and a Piña colada?” You asked the bartender, ignoring Hoseok. You had no intention of drinking, but Hoseok was so tense it was making you tense.

He stared at the piña colada. “What?”

“Drink. You’re driving me crazy. You need to relax and I doubt you’re going to do it on your own. I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a back alley.” You patted his hand.

“So…if you could drink, what would it be?” He asked.

“Probably a gimlet, with extra lime. But like I said, my preferred drink is water. I like to keep my head clear. There’s less golf-ball swallowing.”

He snorted and choked on his second sip of his drink.

You patted his back as he tried to recover from choking, and he was laughing in between coughing which wasn’t helping at all.

The bartender was looking concerned.

“His wife left him for his sister and his brother in law confessed his love to him, it’s a royal mess,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok died a little more. “Stop,” He gasped, finally just laughing.

“It’s not my fault he thinks your butt is cute.”

He collapsed off of the stool, thudding to the ground and laughing harder.

“Man, two sips and you’re already drunk. You better not ask me if I like that nastiness again.”

He got up with your help, starting to calm down. “I won’t ask that.”

“Good. But seriously, I’m cutting you off. You’re too much of a lightweight.” You settled the bill with some extra for the bartender, then guided him toward the door.

But both of you stopped at the door.

“It’s raining?” Hoseok asked, still a little breathless.

“It would appear so.” You looked up at the sky.

“Do you like getting caught in the rain?” He asked quietly, holding out his hand.

You laughed softly, taking his hand. “I actually really do.”

“Really?” He smiled as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Really,” You confirmed, looking out at the rain with a little excitement.

“You might ruin your clothing.”

“Clothing washes, as do I.” You tugged and pulled him out into the rain, giggling as the rain started soaking into you.

He laughed as well, looking less comfortable in the rain, but like he was willing to let you lead him through it.

No.

Like he would follow you into anything.

“Why did you offer me the job?” You asked.

He met your gaze with surprise.

“Why me?”

He smiled at you, stepping closer so he could be heard. “I couldn’t say goodbye.”

You tilted your head.

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, not at that time, and I don’t know why, but I’m trying to figure it out.”

You could work with that.

Hoseok touched your cheek, then moved in.

You knew your eyes were a little wide.

He gave a slight smile and then leaned in to kiss you.

You allowed it, and you didn’t regret it as his lips met yours. It was…new. Different. Right.

Except for one tiny detail.

You pushed him away gently. “Okay. But you need a new go-to drink because I forgot to mention I’m actually allergic to coconut, so, I’m gonna take some allergy meds now.”

His eyes widened. “I like mimosas and daiquiri.”

You nodded, swallowing an allergy pill. “Great. We won’t kill me, then.”

“How allergic are you?”

You shrugged. “I should be fine now.”

“Okay.”

“So, if you want to kiss me, we can do that again.”

He met your gaze, smiling. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

You rolled your eyes, then pulled him in. “Kiss me.”

He grinned. “Man, I love your honesty.”

And in the rain, you kissed your piña colada man, ignoring what might happen in your future.

“Might not be a permanent job, my judgement might be clouded. I might show favoritism.”

“Then call me a consultant pending permanent employment and depending where this takes us we’ll…let the others decide my fate.”

“Works for me. Let me walk you home. Where do you live?”

You gestured vaguely. “That way. About fifteen minutes from your building. Work. Place.”

“When you said you were a virgin—”

“I never said I was a—walk. We’re getting soaked standing here like idiots and I hear thunder.” You started walking, keeping hold of his hand. “That or I start reevaluating what parts you really need.”

He laughed. “You know what’s funny?”

“No.”

“When you’re actually being honest, your hands relax, and when you’re bluffing, they get all tense.”

Huh.

“What is your biggest concern with the memory core?”

You considered it for a moment. “It could just be a matter of wording.”

“That’s still important.”

“The proposal suggests imprinting all of the memories of the player onto the memory core so that full immersion is more stimulating.”

“Right.”

“But it’s wording makes it sound like the game is replacing their memories. Imagine someone overwrites the data: what happens when the player tries to re-immerse themselves?”

He was quiet for a while. “That…could be….”

“Disastrous. This machine is supposed to work with your brain, but corrupted files could shut the brain down or damage it. It is incredibly dangerous if I’m understanding it correctly.”

“It could hurt people. We have to tick every box. And come up with fail safes.”

“To me, it’s not worth the risk. But that’s why I wanted to talk to them, to make sure I was understanding things.” You gestured to a building. “This is me.”

He nodded, only following when you tugged on his hand. “Are you sure you want me—”

“We’re soaked and the wind is picking up, and—” lightning flashed through the sky, “the storm is getting worse. We’ll call you a cab or something.”

“Right. Inside. Good idea.”

You ditched your shoes the moment you got in, rushing to the bathroom to grab towels so the two of you didn’t drip all over everything. “It’s a bit hot in here, sorry, my AC broke.”

“Just means we’re not going to get chilled,” He answered, taking the towel and looking around. “It’s nice.”

You glanced around as well. You’d opted for minimalism since that was the only way to make the place not feel claustrophobic. “It does the job.”

“So, you’re allergic to coconut?”

“Mostly the consumption, but I do have mild reactions externally as well.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Coconut hair treatment with my friend when I was fifteen. They had to cut my hair off because my scalp blistered and broke out and it was…traumatizing. But that was because it was coconut oil right against my skin for over an hour, undiluted. My daily allergy meds help if I happen to use, I don’t know, soap with coconut in it.” You put the kettle on the stove since you were feeling kind of chilled. “Tea?”

“Sure.” He started examining the photos on your wall (all three of them). “So, if I hadn’t been the last straw for that job, where do you think you’d be right now?”

“Dumping a scotch-neat on my boss’s head, if not down his pants, after quitting and looking for a job with less drunk people. My boss was drunk, my coworkers were drunk, everyone was drunk, except me. Do you know how surreal that feels?”

“And yet you accepted a job from me, someone who was drunk?”

“So you admit it,” You pointed out.

He rubbed his neck. “I usually only drink in the evenings, it generally makes me sleepy.”

“You had caffeine with your alcohol, then.”

“Accidentally.”

“That would explain the whole ‘why is the rum always gone’ debacle.”

He was very red looking in profile, but that could have been the lighting. “Yeah. I was embarrassed as I did it and yet I didn’t stop. Stupid.”

“If I hadn’t been having a terrible night, I probably would have enjoyed the reference, honestly. But, as you put it, you were the last straw. I would probably be applying to fast food right about now if it hadn’t been you.” You watched him studying your photos far longer than they were worth studying. “Are my photos that interesting?”

“These three were the ones you consciously decided to display, which means they mean something to you.”

You thought about that for a moment, thinking about all of the photos of families that the people you’d worked under while spying had shown you. Always the kids, always the wife, always the beloved pet.

But Hoseok had no photos in his office.

“You don’t keep any photos visible in your office, and office photos are, arguably, the ones that provide the most insight into people,” You countered, sitting on the floor with the tray of tea on the coffee table.

He joined you on the floor. “It’s a precaution. I keep the photos in J-Hope’s desk, the locked drawer. I’m surprised you noticed, though.”

“I wouldn’t have, but people kept shoving their photos in my face and if they weren’t, then I was redirecting their attention to their photos so I would get away with my snooping. People like to talk about themselves.”

He was watching you, a soft smile on his face. “You really are something else.”

You shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you there.”

“We could hide it, you know. Us, whatever we are?”

“Professional flirtation,” You guessed, holding the mug and surprised at how cold your fingers had been. “Workday dalliance?”

“Wow, um, anyway, we could just not tell anyone about us.”

“9 to 5 lovers,” You quipped, trying to come up with more.

“Are you purposefully ignoring me?”

“Ye-es,” You dragged out, trying to think of another thing to call it.

“You don’t think we could?”

“I think the boys would figure it out before the morning meeting ended.”

“Oh, right, I didn’t mean from the boys.”

“Oh, ok, please continue.” You leaned on your hand and watched him.

“We stay away from anything unprofessional at work, with the exception of in private, and we make sure no one catches on. Then, when I officially take my position...we reevaluate where we are and adjust accordingly.”

“Officially take your position?”

“Technically, I’m not yet the CEO, my father is, but I’ve been acting CEO for about three years.”

He didn’t add that they had been the most prosperous three years of the company’s history, but maybe he was trying to stay humble.

“So, once he’s better and we finish a few things, he’ll hand over things to me officially. In front of the company.”

“Revealing that J-Hope is actually his son and everyone’s boss.”

He nodded. “Which would also be revealing that you have been working for me.”

“All of which could be potentially disastrous.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I bet you’d say I should have been open about it the whole time.”

“Not at all. I think this was the best course of action. Everyone respects J-Hope, they like him. They like his work ethic, they like how he listens, and they like how he cares. They like how bright and cheerful he is. They don’t know if they can trust their CEO, but they know that the board has been taking care of them and the CEO has been allowing it. They’re curious, and a little apprehensive.” You remembered all of the conversations you’d had over the week.

But one stuck out to you.

You’d been getting coffee with one of the employees in the marketing department, discussing the company and it’s leadership.

“I don’t know about the CEO. Or, well,” She flustered for a second. “I don’t know why he feels the need to hide from us. His father never did, but maybe there’s a plan. Every now and then, they have someone who sort of...scopes things out. They had me in project development for a couple of weeks so that I could tell them what I thought of the person that was testing the projects. That person was Mr. Jeon.”

You’d tilted your head, confused.

“Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of the board members, the youngest board member. He’s really good at catching on, which makes him a prime test subject for things that are about to be released. We can’t bring people in, not often, because information tends to get leaked. He’s been a godsend to the company. Mr. Jung found him, too, he’s found just about every top employee, and all of the board members--except J-Hope. He worked his way up through the company, and then impressed Mr. Jung Sr. and was given a job on the board. He looks after employee welfare and we’ve had an amazing increase in our benefits program ever since. It’s a shame Mr. Jung Jr. didn’t start out like J-Hope.”

“What’s that look for?”

You jumped a bit, refocusing on him. “All of the things that J-Hope has done are your accomplishments. You’ve improved the benefits program, upgraded the retirement package, made sure that everyone has received pay increases, and you worked your way up through the company. Your intellect lies in people, and your devotion to your job as their employer has inspired loyalty to you. I’m not saying you should go out tomorrow and reveal that you’re Mr. Jung Jr.”

“Do they really call me that?” He cringed.

“But you shouldn’t fear...telling them who you are. Yes, it could cause problems, but only momentarily. Until then, you want me to help you deal with trash and question everything so that the ship is running tightly when the official transfer happens. Right?” You asked, sitting up straight. “That way if anything happens with stocks, or the market, the company is running smoothly and will stay afloat.”

“You have a business degree, don’t you?”

“I never graduated,” You corrected easily. “But I did study some business, yes. This is what you want from me, correct?”

“Yes. I need you to tell me to suck it up when I hesitate.”

“Okay. Did you read my report on the other departments?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then I suggest you decide what should be done to those employees, and what you’re actually willing to do. Because I outlined my suggestions for each of them, but ultimately, it is up to you. You want to run a tight ship, you need to get rid of excess crew, which sounds terrible, but it’s true. If they’re not doing their job, they have no reason to be on deck. And some of them were on the wrong decks.”

He nodded. “I’ll review it once more, but we’ll probably go with your suggested actions.”

“Okay. Glad we understand each other.” You grabbed your phone, checking it. “Taehyung wants to know if I’m alive, and if I’m alive, is Hoseok alive as well.”

“Crap,” He went into his pocket. “Oh. They just wanted to go drinking. Taehyung is our usual designated driver. He’s not a big drinker like Jungkook and Jimin. I’m going to ask him to swing by and pick me up. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know how you felt about where you lived. You’re kind of hard to read.”

“I live here, I pay the rent, it’s small, but it’s mine. Or were you referring more to a bunch of men knowing where I, a single woman, lived?”

“The latter.”

“Ah, sweet of you to be concerned, but Jimin’s already seen my place.”

“He has?” Hoseok frowned.

“He dropped me off after we went shopping. None of the stores had bathrooms. Nature called.” You shrugged.

“I don’t like that,” Hoseok muttered, obviously more to himself.

“You don’t like that he had to use the bathroom? Or that we went shopping together? Because, technically, he was the only board member I was allowed to be seen with as one of his employment experiments.” You pointed out, waiting for him to pull himself together and continue texting Taehyung. “Also, you might want to text him before it’s too late.”

“That he saw your house.”

“Interesting. Text Taehyung,” You instructed carefully. “Before you have to pay for a cab.”

He did, but he was frowning the whole time.

You rolled your eyes. “Jimin was here for all of five minutes. I doubt he could even tell you what color the walls in the bathroom are.”

“Color,” He muttered, getting up and heading to the small hall.

“Um….”

“Purple. Walls are purple. Take that.”

“Oh my god, there is no way you’re even buzzed, why are you acting weird?”

“Purple. Blue. White. Three pictures.”

You rolled your eyes, and shook your head. “Weirdo. I mean, I knew that, only weird people like pina coladas--”

He caught you and kissed you again. “Don’t let Jimin in. He’s a minx. He’s a fox. That magic trickster fox that seduces you. A succubus.”

“Incubus,” you corrected. “Which is a sort of demon. Magical fox thing is a kitsune. You’re mixing your mythologies.”

“You’re so smart,” He said, but he said it in a sort of happy, sighing way while looking at you so softly and gently and adoringly….

You believed him.

He touched your cheek, then quickly pulled his hands away. “Alright. How about a rule?”

“Depends on the rule,” You replied.

“You have good judgement, and self control,” His gaze shifted to your eye, and his fingers brushed the edge of the bruising with a feather-light touch, “So, I want there to be a rule that at work, any...personal things between us are initiated by you. Which means you can shut me down at any time, anyway you feel necessary.”

“You mean, like asking you about your ex?”

“Ouch,” He muttered, looking down. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Am I replacing your ex?”

He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

“I’m in their office.”

He looked up, then shook his head. “No, you’re in my mom’s old office. Yesuel never worked at HopeWorld. Too much of a free-spirit.”

“But you loved them all the same.”

“I did. I thought I did. Love is...tricky.”

“Are you ready for another significant other?” You asked.

He met your gaze, holding it. “Do you like getting lost in the rain?”

You smiled. “You know I do.”

“Then you know I am,” He replied easily, fingers resting under your chin. “Are you going to be okay, with your eye like that? They did say it could get worse, and if it does….”

“Are you asking if you can stay? Because you’d have to borrow clothing, or live in a blanket until your clothing is dry. I don’t have much that would fit you.”

“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay on the couch.” He touched a strand of your still-damp hair. “Eye injuries are dangerous.”

“Didn’t you already tell Taehyung to come pick you up?”

He shook his head. “I was just going to walk down to work and get my car and pretend that Taehyung picked me up.”

You hit him lightly. “And if you got struck by lightning?”

“My company would be in good hands,” He answered, shrugging slightly. “But I would miss out on a few things. But you can get hit by lightning and live.”

“Not well,” You argued, frowning.

He gently ran a thumb over your eyebrow, as though to ease away your frown. “Besides, I was already struck by you. I don’t think anything could knock me off my feet like that, I don’t think anything ever has. You’re new and unique. And I want to know everything I can about you. Even if you don’t like pina coladas. Even if you are a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re addicted to it,” He replied easily, smirking at you.

And yes.

You were.

It was crazy, but you were completely addicted to the banter with him, the way he smiled while you were grumbling, the way he asked what you thought of things and actually listened. You liked his gentleness and compassion.

He brought hope back to your world.

“I agree to your rule,” You whispered.

Hoseok grinned and kissed you.

Your future was going to be crazy...but maybe the consistency of his smile was enough to get you through.

#btswritingbingo #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #reader x jhope #reader x bts #bts fic #jung hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #seokjin #yoongi #namjoon #business au #ceo!hoseok #ceo!jhope #one-shot

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dimigexwrites · 2 years

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Second Chances, The Date (KakaSaku Valentines Day)

This is the second chapter for the story that I did for the KakaSaku Valentines Day that @bouncyirwin and Empress Nariko are hosting. This chapter is really long (12k words or so I think), so it's under the cut or it can be found at FF or AO3

As part of the Hearts on Fire fundraiser, the university had booked a popular downtown venue for the evening. Since the majority of the proceeds went toward the Wounded Warrior project, several clubs from the school were taking part in the event to assure its success. Kakashi had assumed that participants' names would be thrown into a hat and drawn at random, but, like everything else, they'd seemed to have put more thought into it. He supposed that he should be thankful to have been paired with someone he knew at least a little bit.

Kakashi arrived at the restaurant only fifteen minutes late after stopping to pick up flowers, typical red roses because this whole date was a farce. When he pulled open the door, the chaotic mix of florals, cheap perfume, and wine flavored the air. A handful of people milled around by the check-in area, either waiting on their dates or waiting to be pointed in the right direction.

As Kakashi started to join the group, a familiar pair of blue eyes settled on him from across the room. Ino pulled away from the desk with a mischievous smile on her face. "Well, well, well, Hatake-sensei, you came after all."

"I said I would come," Kakashi pointed out. "I'm not going to go back on my word."

"Good," Ino purred. Her gaze traveled up and down Kakashi's body in a calculating manner that made him feel like his suit wasn't enough protection from her eyes. "I'm glad to see you put a little bit of effort into this at least."

Warmth bloomed in Kakashi's cheeks under the scrutiny of Ino's assessment. Before he could think of an answer, the brunette from the other day hurried up to them, a paper name tag on her shirt read 'Tenten - Event Support'. The girl caught Ino's arm with frantic energy. "Leave Hatake-sensei alone and come help me. There seems to be some confusion with two of our patrons. He thought that she was going to—"

The conversation faded as Tenten pulled Ino away. Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief; the blonde's stare left him feeling uncomfortable. Something about Ino's look made Kakashi feel like he'd been tested, but he wasn't sure if he'd come up lacking or not. Swallowing, he looked across the room. Dozens of tables filled the space, white table clothes accentuated by the flicker of candles. The overhead lights had been dimmed for the occasion, but Kakashi saw a decent mix of faculty and students in the room. At least he wouldn't be completely out of place.

"Hatake-sensei?" The sound sent a nervous jolt of energy through Kakashi's chest. He told himself that it had had more to do with the atmosphere of the room than the familiar timbre of the voice behind him. "Or, should I call you Kakashi?"

Turning toward the voice, Kakashi offered a smile. Haruno Sakura returned the gesture, her lips a gentle shade of pink that accented the color of her hair. The woman wore a simple back dress that guided his eyes to places they shouldn't go by the way it hugged her body. The neckline left her shoulders bare despite the long sleeves, creating an alluring mix of exposed and covered skin that begged Kakashi to run his fingers over it.

Kakashi swallowed the lump in his throat, focusing on the shining green eyes that were watching him with curiosity and amusement. "Kakashi is fine," he answered, once he was certain that he had control of his voice. Remembering the flowers, Kakashi held them out. "Here, these are for you."

Taking in the deep red of the roses, Sakura inhaled their aroma. "You didn't have to do that," she murmured. Suddenly, Kakashi was thankful that Tenzo had reminded him to pick up flowers on the way..

"I'm pretty sure it's not Valentine's Day without a dozen red roses." Kakashi managed a chuckle as the woman cradled the flowers in the crook of one elbow. Then, he gestured around the room "Do you know how any of this works? The organizers seem a little bit chaotic."

Sakura laughed and grinned toward the pair of women arguing over a laptop near the check-in area. "That's Ino and Tenten for you. Ino, the blond one, loves playing matchmaker and gossip, while Tenten loves people watching. The idea of this event was way more fun for them than actually running it will be."

"It certainly seems that way." Kakashi watched the pair for a moment longer as Tenten clicked through something on the computer and Ino flapped her hands in annoyance. Chuckling, he turned back to Sakura. "I suspected that something was off when we were paired, to be honest."

Sakura quirked one eyebrow upward with a frown. "Why's that?"

The challenging stare surprised Kakashi, as did the hint of a blush on the woman's cheeks. "The pairing just surprised me," he amended, which seemed to soothe Sakura somewhat. "I'm sorry that you didn't get a better date for the evening."

"Who said there was anything wrong with you?" Laughing, Sakura shook her head. "Come on, I know where our table is."

As Kakashi followed Sakura through the room, he tried to avoid the curious stares that turned in their direction. Thankfully, their table was in the back corner, which provided a sense of privacy. A thick, pink piece of parchment held up by a heat shaped clip had their names written across it in fancy script. Sakura laid the flowers to one side of the table, then sank into her seat before Kakashi could offer to pull it out. He settled in the chair across from her, self conscious despite the secluded feeling that the room offered.

Silence reigned for several uncomfortable seconds before Sakura spoke. "So, it's been a while—''

Before the woman could finish her thought, a young man interrupted them with a polite bow. Kakashi was fairly certain that the boy had been in his Introduction to Literature class a couple of semesters ago, which meant he was probably part of the fundraiser. But, Kakashi couldn't be sure. The boy's black suit and white shirt made him look like a waiter, at least.

The young man sat a flute of champagne in front of Sakura, then a second near Kakashi. "The first glass is included with dinner, which will be out shortly," he paused and pulled a sheet of parchment paper similar to the one that had Kakashi and Sakura's name from a folder he carried under one arm. "Until then, here are some questions to help you get to know your date better. Enjoy your evening."

After presenting the paper to Sakura, the man bowed and walked to the next table to repeat his clearly rehearsed speech. The pinkette skimmed over the page in her hand then raised her gaze. When her eyes met Kakashi, they laughed. It sounded almost genuine, if a little strained at the edges.

"This is really awkward," Kakashi allowed, reaching for the champagne. Deciding better of it, he let his hand rest on the table instead. "We don't have to do this whole awkward first date thing. It's perfectly fine to just have dinner and call it a night."

"We absolutely have to do the question and answer section. I wouldn't want all of Ino's hard work to be for nothing." Laughing, Sakura took a drink of her champagne and laid the list on the table. "Okay, first question: what's your favorite color?"

Kakashi rolled his eyes at the question. "How is that supposed to help people find out if they're compatible?"

Swirling the champagne around in her glass, Sakura raised her shoulders in a shrug that made the light play across her skin. "My favorite color is red."

Studying the pale shade of Sakura's lips and hair, then the black of her dress, Kakashi laughed. "I would have guessed that." Sakura inclined her head and looked at him expectantly. Frowning, Kakashi considered for a couple of seconds, then shrugged. "Mine is black."

"Black isn't a color," Sakura pointed out, placing her glass back on the table. A imprint of her lips remained on the side, drawing Kakashi's gaze for a millisecond before she spoke. "Want to try again?"

"Black is definitely a color." Kakashi considered for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Fine, dark grey."

Sakura shook her head at the words, but didn't correct Kakashi this time. She turned her attention to the next question instead. "Okay, would you rather visit the mountains or the beach on vacation?"

Though Kakashi knew the answer almost immediately, he made a show of considering the options. "Definitely the mountains. Give me a secluded cabin away from people for a week or two, and I'm good to go."

"That doesn't surprise me." Sakura tipped her head to the side to study Kakashi though a fall of pink hair. She'd worn it down tonight, the pale tresses curling softly at the ends. "What about a secluded beach, though?"

Kakashi tapped a finger against his lip thoughtfully. "I suppose it depends on the company. But, as long as I have a good book, I could tolerate it. I'm assuming your answer is the beach then?"

A smile played across Sakura's lips as she toyed with one earring, a glimmer of silver dangling from one ear. "I could take either one as long as there aren't too many people around. Huge crowds can be overwhelming." Sakura took another sip of her champagne, then dipped her head. "But, yes, as a general rule, I'm always down for a trip to the beach."

For a minute, Kakashi could imagine it. Sakura laughing at some joke, sunlight reflecting off her sunglasses as she stared at him. Waves crashed in the distance as warm, white sand sparkled behind her. Kakashi blushed and pushed the intrusive thought away. Sakura laughed, but her eyes were on the sheet of questions rather than Kakashi's face. "Oh, this is an easy one for you. Would you rather give up social media entirely, or live as an influencer?"

Reaching for his drink, Kakashi waved a hand to indicate that Sakura could continue. The champagne was dry with rich undertones of fruit, but he couldn't tell which. It tasted good though. Sakura laid the paper on the table and narrowed her eyes at Kakashi. Then, she grinned. "You'd give up social media in a heartbeat, wouldn't you?"

Kakashi shook his head, lying with the easy practice of a university proctor. "Not at all. I'd love to be an influencer."

Laughing, Sakura raised one eyebrow. "There's no way that's true. You don't even have a social media presence, do you?"

For a few seconds, Kakashi didn't speak. Then, he frowned. "How do you know that?"

Deep crimson erupted on Sakura's cheeks as she toyed with a bracelet that Kakashi hadn't noticed on her wrist. "Okay, so this is going to sound weird. But, I may have tried to look you up before coming tonight. Either you don't have social media, or you've hidden it really well."

Warmth opened in Kakashi's chest, a light, fluttery feeling that he knew came from having his ego fed. He suppressed it with some effort. "Are you telling me that you're here because you're stalking me?"

"Dammit, you caught me." Sakura's voice took on a teasing tone as she drained the rest of her champagne. Setting her glass back on the table, she turned to Kakashi with a twinkle in her eye. "The real question is: are you going to turn me in?"

"I haven't decided; I want to hear the rest of your answers, first." Kakashi felt a curious warmth spread through him when Sakura chuckled. He nodded toward her empty glass. "Do you want another?"

Sakura gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. "Are you trying to get me drunk, Professor Hatake?"

"Please, don't call me that." Kakashi cringed at the juxtaposition of his title alongside the playful lilt in Sakura's voice. "I'll be forced to call you Miss Haruno and ask only the bare minimum of personal questions to avoid crossing any lines."

"We wouldn't want that. Would we, Kakashi?" Sakura tipped her head in that curious way that women had to make their eyes seem more intense as she smiled. Her voice dropped to an almost seductive tone that made Kakashi's heart thump against his ribs in response.

Before Kakashi could think of something to say to the heat in Sakura's voice, a distinctive buzz sounded from his pocket. He jumped, bumping the table hard enough to jostle the water glasses beside the champagne flutes. Mumbling an excuse, Kakashi pulled his phone from his pocket in case it was an emergency. He frowned at Tenzo's texts on the screen.

Well? How's it going? You went, right? Stop ignoring me. I just want to make sure you didn't do something stupid, again.

Huffing, Kakashi put the device face down on the table and glanced over at Sakura. The woman watched him with open curiosity. "Do you need to take that?"

"No, it's fine." Kakashi took another sip of his champagne, and it mixed agreeably with the whiskey in his stomach. Despite Sakura's teasing tone and Tenzo's insistence on being part of the evening, Kakashi felt almost at ease. The horrible day had been mellowed by the pleasant conversation and environment. Shaking his head, Kakashi ignored the phone. "It's not important."

"So, it wasn't your girlfriend wondering why you're standing her up on Valentine's Day?" Sakura delivered the question playfully, but the scrutiny in her gaze suggested that she was worried there might be some truth in the accusation.

Before Kakashi could explain, they were interrupted by the arrival of salads. A different student placed the chilled bowl in front of Sakura, blue eyes sweeping over the woman with an air of dismissal before turning toward Kakashi. "It's nice to see you again, Hatake-sensei," the dark haired woman said, dipping into a bow. Kakashi racked his brain to put a name to the face, but he couldn't manage it. "It's Yumi," the girl offered. "I took your critical writing course last year."

Kakashi's mind was too full of names and faces to have more than a vague memory of the girl, but he made an effort. "How have you been? You were studying psychology, wasn't it?"

Yumi nodded, but the disappointment at not being remembered remained on her face, only partially tempered by Kakashi's guess at her major. "I've been doing well." Her gaze darted to Sakura briefly, then away. "It's so nice to see you supporting this charity. And, I just wanted to say, you look quite handsome all dressed up."

A blush rose on Kakashi's cheeks before he could stop it. Sakura cleared her throat as she reached for her silverware. Yumi glanced over, then smiled with a hint of teeth behind it. "I should get back to work. Enjoy your evening, Hatake-sensei. I'll see you around."

Kakashi frowned at Yumi's back as she walked back toward the kitchen. "Well, that was odd."

"Seriously," Sakura scoffed under her breath. When Kakashi turned to face her, the woman rolled her eyes so hard she looked in danger of hurting herself. Even so, a hint of amusement remained in her voice. "Please tell me you are not that dense."

Picking up his fork, Kakashi pushed around the lettuce in his bowl "What are you talking about?"

"You really don't see it, do you?" The wonder in Sakura's voice warred with the annoyance in the narrowed eyes that watched Kakashi though the flicker of candlelight for several long seconds. Finally, she crossed her legs and sat back, regarding him over her water glass. "You do realize that she was hitting on you? Right in front of me too, like I wasn't even here."

"No, she wasn't." Kakashi's mouth fell open at the blatant accusation in Sakura's words. "She was just being friendly."

Pressing her lips together in a poor attempt to hide a smile, Sakura hummed knowingly. "And how many of your female students are just friendly with you?"

Kakashi's frown deepened as he thought about the interaction with Yumi, and then further back to the playful comments, accidental brushes, and smoldering stares that sometimes happened. He shrugged and tugged at the neck of his shirt. "I mean, I don't think students are any more friendly with me than they are with other professors."

Laughing, Sakura shook her head and put the glass back on the table. She leaned close, voice dropping to a whisper. "So, did you know that half of the girls in my AP English class were making a bet to see who could make out with you first? Or, better yet, who could sleep with you by the end of the year."

Kakashi choked on the spit in his mouth, coughing through the suffocation feeling that clenched his chest. It felt like the ground had dropped out from underneath him. "You were children," he argued, completely at a loss. "You couldn't have honestly believed that I would start a relationship, much less an intimate one, with any of you."

"Most of us were seventeen or eighteen by then," Sakura pointed out, voice cool and unreadable. Kakashi spluttered on the water he'd taken a drink of to clear his throat. Coughing into a napkin, he stared at the woman across from him in shock. She offered a single shoulder shrug. "You weren't that much older."

Most of us were seventeen or eighteen. The phrase lodged itself in Kakashi's mind, but he refused to think about the implications behind it. He rubbed the back of his neck. "It was more than ten years," he pointed out, making a joke of the age difference even though it made him self conscious, especially considering their current situation. "I can't believe you thought I'd date a student."

"It was less thinking that you'd do it, and more hoping that you would." The words hung in the air for a tension filled second, then Sakura shrugged and took a bite of her salad as if the conversation were nothing out of the ordinary.

Kakashi watched the woman, unable to form a coherent thought. He glanced up as one of the makeshift waiters, thankfully a male, walked by with a bottle of champagne. Raising his glass, Kakashi caught the man's attention and held it up for a refill. The waiter poured pale liquid into the glass, then turned to Sakura. Kakashi indicated that the woman could decide on her own as he focused on her face rather than the secrets she'd just spilled out. It was easier that way. Sakura offered her a glass as well.

Once they were alone, the silence felt oppressive. Sakura ate her salad without speaking for a moment, then she broke the ice by nodding toward Kakashi's phone. "So, was the text from your girlfriend?"

"Only if you count Senju-sensei," Kakashi joked, trying to ease the tension of the conversation. "He texts me enough to be an obsessive girlfriend. He's worried that I didn't show up, or I'll say or do something stupid, or who knows what he's stressing about now."

As if on cue, the phone buzzed again. Kakashi sighed and thumbed open the messaging app. Seriously? You didn't stand her up, did you?

"May I?" Sakura reached across the table, and Kakashi handed over the phone without thinking. The pinkette ran her fingers through her hair, then gave the camera a sultry pout. A brilliant flash lit the space around the table for the space of three seconds, then Sakura shook her head and retook the photo. Apparently content with the image, her fingers flew over the keyboard with a familiarity that Kakashi marveled at. Then, she handed the phone back to him. "There, that should take care of him for a little while at least."

Kakashi stared at the message screen in surprise. Sakura had sent a photo to Tenzo that made her look positively stunning. She'd angled her body to capture the most flattering light and somehow managed to look seductive and innocent at the same time. Underneath the image, she'd typed a short message. He's being a perfect gentleman. Stop worrying about us. Xoxo

Blushing for some reason he couldn't explain, Kakashi tucked the phone back into his pocket. He blew out a breath, surprised to feel that the room had gotten warmer the more crowded it became. Raising his champagne, Kakashi took a sip. "Back to your question, though. Do you honestly think I'd sign up for something like if I had a girlfriend? I had no idea that your opinion of me was so low."

"It's not that." Sakura shrugged. The movement made the candlelight dance across her collar bones. "It's more that I'm surprised that you don't have a girlfriend."

Uncomfortable with the direction that the conversation was heading, Kakashi turned it back to Sakura. "What about you? Shouldn't I expect some blindly jealous young man to storm in here and demand to know who gave me the right to take you to dinner?"

Something like sadness entered Sakura's eyes when she shook her head. "First of all, no, because I wouldn't date someone like that. And secondly, I only took part in this because Ino begged me to come. I haven't really made time for dating since my last relationship ended, and that was almost two years ago."

Kakashi raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow, it's been a while. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Did you really not see it all over the news?" Bitterness slid into Sakura's voice faster than Kakashi thought possible as she swirled her champagne around in her glass. When he shook his head, she chuckled without a trace of humor. "You must be the only one who hasn't. Uchiha Sasuke is a high profile name."

"Ahhh," Kakashi whistled under his breath. "I'm familiar with the family, of course."

There wasn't a person in Konoha who didn't know who Uchiha Madara was, or recognize the man's law firm which boasted the best defense lawyers that money could buy. They were outrageously expensive and unrivaled in court, Madara especially. Sasuke must have been following in the man's footsteps to be worthy of notice already. Kakashi was surprised the boy was old enough to be out of law school, unless he was older than Sakura.

"He graduated a year before you taught at Konoha High," Sakura interjected as if she could read Kakashi's thoughts. "He finished university early. And, because he had connections in the family business, he made a name for himself quickly."

Kakashi tipped his head, understanding that sort of privilege all too well. He'd been close friends with another Uchiha, once upon a time, though the man hadn't been from the main family as Sasuke seemed to be. Kakashi studied Sakura, trying to read if she wanted to talk about the break up. "So, what happened?"

Sakura shrugged and took a long drink, draining half of the champagne in her glass. "His family was never happy with the match in the first place. They wanted to use his marriage as a political move to secure a more powerful ally like the Hyuga."

Setting the alcohol back on the table, Sakura switched to her water. Kakashi almost praised the technique to avoid a hangover, then decided against it as Sakura toyed with her bracelet. He wondered if the movement was a subconscious sign that she was nervous or uncomfortable. When Sakura's eyes came back up to Kakashi's, the hurt was stronger than before. "And, Sasuke loved his job more than he loved me."

Kakashi sensed that he'd brought up painful memories, but he wasn't sure how to soothe it short of reaching across to squeeze Sakura's hand. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, instead, keeping his fingers stil. "Some people don't know what they have until they lose it."

Snorting, Sakura shook her head at the words. "He doesn't seem to feel like he's lost anything." Before Kakashi could apologize again, she waved a dismissive hand. "But, it's ancient history. So, what about you? Why isn't there a Mrs. Hatake?"

"Are past relationships on this list?" Kakashi forced a laugh and reached for the paper that held the list of icebreaker questions from earlier. In the back of his mind, over the soft music playing in the background of the restaurant, he heard the scream of tires fighting to grip the road. Then, Kakashi was airborne again, life flashing before his eyes as Rin screamed his name. He felt the physical impact like a punch to the gut even though it was more than twenty years ago.

Warmth seeped into Kakashi's hand, and the memory wavered. The snow slick darkness faded to pale candlelight and green eyes. He stared at Sakura, fighting to suppress the sudden memory for three heartbeats. The woman frowned as she released Kakashi's hand. "Is everything okay?"

Kakashi gave himself a little shake and turned his full attention to the paper in front of him. He couldn't think about that night, not again, not right now. Not trusting his voice, Kakashi nodded. Sakura studied him with an intensity that promised they'd revisit this conversation eventually, but she let it go, for now. Kakashi took a drink of water to wash the ashy taste of failure from his mouth as he read the questions. He frowned, then rolled his eyes. "How could knowing someone's favorite app possibly help you get to know them?"

Sakura laughed and pushed her salad bowl away, snagging the list from Kakashi's hand. "I don't know," she began with the same, cool demeanor that Kakashi had used during lectures hundreds of times. "A person's favorite tiktok can tell you a lot about them."

At Kakashi's presumably blank expression the woman's face turned disbelieving. "You do know that is, right?"

Kakashi's mood soured at the memory of his day. "Is that the silly video app that interrupted half of my classes?"

Smiling in an almost indulgent manner, Sakura turned to the clutch that she'd set on the table with her flowers. Opening it, she pulled out a phone in a glittery pink case that matched her personality perfectly. Sakura swiped across the screen a few times, the grin on her lips growing as she turned the phone around. Kakashi frowned at the dim screen, firmly telling himself that he didn't need glasses no matter what his eye doctor said. The sound was either muted or too quiet to hear over the general buzz of noise in the room, but Kakashi recognized his classroom immediately. He rolled his eyes in annoyance at the recording. "This just happened today. How is it already online?"

Sakura tapped a few more times and pulled up another recording, then laughed. "There's actually several versions of it posted."

Rising, Kakashi moved his seat closer to Sakura so that he wouldn't need to stretch across the table to see her phone. Sakura shifted closer, showing him a second and third video of the confession. The final one had been taken from across the classroom, but it was more complete than the others. Kakashi's cheeks heated as he watched himself grab the phone from the boy trying to make the video then round on the class. He couldn't remember what he said, but he hadn't been patient with them.

Sakura touched another button on the screen, and a list of comments came up. She pointed at one. Damn, if my teacher looked like that, I'd never miss class. Scroll. He likes playing rough, me too. Scroll. Why can't my teachers look like that? Scroll. Where do I sign up for this class? Scroll. Silver fox. Scroll. I know this wasn't the point of this video, but hello Daddy.

There were no words to justify Kakashi's horror at the spectacle unfolding before him. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Sakura burst out laughing, and her eyes caught the soft yellow of the candlelight. "Do you really expect me to believe that you don't know that you're a good looking man? Or why so many of your classes have a higher percentage of female to male students?

Kakashi frowned at the woman sitting just a foot away from him instead of the other side of the table. He was close enough to smell the rich, complex scent of the perfume that Sakura had worn and to notice a smudge of black liner in the corner of her left eye. Her gaze held a challenge that made Kakashi shake his head. "I think you're imagining things."

"Well, it certainly looks like things are heating up over here." A voice crooned, interrupting the tension at the table. Kakashi and Sakura startled apart though there was no reason to do so. Ino grinned at the pair and waved with her hand. "Get back together. We're taking pictures of all the happy couples to commemorate the fundraiser."

Kakashi shook his head, running a self conscious hand through his hair. "We aren't a couple."

"It's a turn of phrase," Ino huffed, lifting the camera. "You're two people paired together through the fundraiser; it's pretty much the same thing."

Kakashi opened his mouth to argue, then Sakura's fingers brushed along the side of his thigh to stop the words. His entire body jolted in response as she smiled. "Just let her have the photo, and she'll move on."

The woman's voice hardened on the final words, drawing a laugh from Ino. "She's right, you know. Now, get back together."

Feeling like an awkward teenager at a middle school dance, Kakashi leaned in toward Sakura. She shifted in front of his shoulder, bringing their faces close enough that he felt the warmth of her skin almost touching his. Kakashi blinked in the brilliant flash that came next. Ino stared down at the screen, then shook her head. "That one was terrible. Come on, Hatake-sensei, try smiling. You're out with a beautiful woman, after all."

Putting his best effort into the smile, Kakashi looked at the camera. This time, after his vision cleared after the blinding light, Ino nodded. "That one is much better. You two actually look happy," she purred. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, lovelies. Dinner should be out soon, and I'll send someone to refill your glasses."

Before Kakashi could point out that their glasses were half full, Ino pulled away from the table to take photos at the next one. He sighed and took a sip of water. "How in the world did the two of you become friends?"

Sakura chuckled under her breath as she tucked her phone back into her purse. "She and I went to school together."

"It kind of seems like you went to school with everyone," Kakashi observed, continuing to nurse his water as two more glasses of champagne appeared at the table.

"Yourself included," Sakura teased with the banter that seemed to come so easy to her. When Kakashi rolled his eyes, she shrugged. "I mean, I kind of did. This town really isn't that big, you know?"

As Kakashi watched Sakura look around the crowded room, he ran the math backward in his head. She was somewhere in her mid twenties by now, a far cry from the girl that he'd known at eighteen. Even so, nothing erased the fourteen year age difference between them; it might as well have been a lifetime. Sakura's company was pleasant, and she was beautiful as Ino said, but that was where things ended. Kakashi couldn't let himself think beyond that. He washed the thoughts away with another pull of the alcohol he hadn't wanted in the first place.

Unaware of the thoughts spinning through Kakashi's mind, Sakura flashed a mischievous grin. "You didn't know you were Tik Tok famous?"

Kakashi's mind did a full stop at the idea of being recognized on the app, much less having multiple people know who he was. His earlier horror flooded back in. "Please tell me you're joking."

Sakura's musical laughter made Kakashi's heart sink. She shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, I follow the tags for Konoha University, and you've popped up on my feed quite a few times."

The words almost made sense. Kakashi knew the technical definitions of each term, but the context was wrong. It took his mind a moment to remember the more modern meaning of tags and feeds, and when he did, he quirked one eyebrow toward the ceiling. "So, you really are stalking me?"

"Just a little," Sakura teased, turning to meet Kakashi's gaze with an expression that made his heart flutter uncomfortably. Her tongue slid across her lips with exaggerated slowness that might have only been his imagination, then she smiled. "I mean, I have to keep up with what's happening with Professor Hot-ake."

Kakashi choked on his water, almost spraying the particles across the table. He coughed into his elbow to clear the obstruction so he could draw breath as Sakura laughed and patted him lightly on the back. "I didn't come up with that, by the way. That would be one of your undergrads," she clarified, then grinned. "Though, I imagine most of them hate me right now for being lucky enough to get paired with you tonight."

An uncomfortable doubt settled in Kakashi's stomach. Even though he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer, Kakashi couldn't help but ask. "Was it luck though?" His gaze settled on Ino as she swooped toward another table with her camera. "Or, was it fixed?"

Sakura's brilliant green eyes widened as she followed Kakashi's gaze to catch the meaning of his words. Color bloomed in her cheeks. "You know, for someone who claims to be unaware of how you affect people, you certainly have a high opinion of yourself."

"I mean, you did claim to stalk me," Kakashi answered, hoping to invite some levity into the situation. Even so, ice slid along his veins when Sakura didn't answer. "It just seems a little convenient considering some of the things you said about the bet in high school and the tiktok stuff."

Kakashi stopped himself short of mentioning the brush of Sakura's fingers on his thigh when Ino appeared for the picture. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous. "Sakura, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about this. I came because it was for a good cause and I'd already committed to it, but this isn't a date. It's just a friendly dinner."

"But, what if I don't want it to be just a friendly dinner," Sakura countered before Kakashi could add anything else. The woman blew out a breath to collect herself before continuing. "I didn't sign up for this because I thought I'd get paired with you. Honestly, it never crossed my mind that you would be here. I only joined because Ino begged me to."

Running a hand through her hair, Sakura's eyes darted away from Kakashi's. The blush on her cheeks deepened toward crimson. "I'm glad that I got your name, though."

Warmth echoed on Kakashi's cheeks at the confession, but he forced himself not to read more into the words than there was. "Why? Because you want to win some bet you made in high school? Because you want to brag to get likes on an app? Because—"

"Because I've had a crush on you for years," Sakura interrupted, ears flaming to match her cheeks. "And, you seem like a genuinely good man. I mean, you're really hot, but so was Sasuke. I want something different, someone who isn't caught up in his looks or his name, someone who," the woman trailed off, unable to articulate her words.

"You don't even know me," Kakashi pointed out, his voice growing soft on the admission. Because I've had a crush on you for years. The words repeated over and over in the back of his mind, but he quashed the sound. "You have this idea of me that you created when you were seventeen years old. That is not reality."

To Kakashi's surprise, Sakura nodded along with the words. "You're right. But, you'd never let me get close enough to know you better, and this was a chance for me to do that. So, yeah, I'm glad we were matched together, though I'm sorry you feel differently."

"I was your teacher." Kakashi dropped his voice, though he doubted that anyone else was listening to their conversation. "Going from that to something more, I just don't see how that could ever work. I never thought about you like that."

"You taught one of my classes, eight years ago. Then, I took another two classes with you seven years ago." Sakura crossed her arms over her chest like she was preparing for an argument. "That was how we met, yes. But, it doesn't mean that things couldn't change between us."

Before Kakashi could come up with an answer, their dinners arrived. As the salads were whisked away, he eyed the steak and vegetables with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. In light of conversation, Kakashi wasn't sure he could eat a single bite of food, no matter how appetizing it looked. Even so, he nodded his thanks to the girl that brought their dinner before turning back to Sakura. Once they were alone, Kakashi forced himself to speak. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

"You didn't, though." Sakura lifted her champagne and finished the rest of her second glass before thumping it back to the table. The alcohol seemed to lend some courage to her. "You can spout all the excuses you want, but your eyes tell me a different story. There is nothing wrong with finding me attractive now, or wanting to get to know me more. I'm not a student in your program, and it's been years since I was."

Kakashi chuckled, not bothering to deny the truth that he was attracted to Sakura. Of course he was; she was gorgeous, but that wasn't the point. "And, what would your parents say? Your friends? The damn school board would crucify me if they knew. It's a question of ethical behavior on the part of a professor."

"Actually, I looked into that." Sakura had the decency to blush on the confession, but she continued before Kakashi could laugh it away. "Konoha University only has rules against faculty entering relationships with students that they directly advise. Since you're a professor in the undergrad department, and I'm a student of the medical school, there would be no conflict if we started dating."

The spill of words left Kakashi dumbfounded. It wasn't just because he was shocked that Sakura had researched the specifics of their situation, though he was. It was that she thought the two of them had enough in common to do so. Kakashi didn't kid himself; he knew that he'd turned heads occasionally, but Sakura could have had any man she wanted. None of this made any sense. "I don't even know what to say," he answered, feeling at a loss.

"Say that you'll stop being so resistant and just enjoy the rest of the evening, please?" Sakura offered a tremulous smile as she tucked one curl behind her ear. "If you don't like me, I can accept that. If you don't think I'm attractive, I can accept that too. But, don't write me off without even trying to get to know me."

Kakashi sighed, feeling the old ache of almost betrayal in his chest. The passage of time hadn't erased the pain, and every woman that Kakashi touched paid the price for the mistakes that he'd made at nineteen. He pushed the image to the back of his mind. "You are absolutely stunning. No man in his right mind would turn you down."

"Except," Sakura prompted, hearing the hesitation in Kakashi's voice. When he couldn't find an answer, she managed a weak laugh. "It's complicated?"

"Something like that," Kakashi allowed, bringing his gaze back up to Sakura's for the first time in several minutes. Spots of color shone in her cheeks, while her eyes had grown more vivid and intense.

Nodding to herself, Sakura reached past Kakashi and picked up the paper with first date questions scrawled across it. As if the previous conversation had never happened, the woman read the next one. "Okay, what's your most unique feature? I'll start." She captured her lip between her teeth in a thoughtful expression for approximately three seconds, then grinned. "My hair is naturally this shade of pink. I don't have to dye it to achieve this color."

Raising one eyebrow, Kakashi dipped his head. "Normally, I would say you're making that up, but I was born with silver hair. It's never changed, so I guess we're both unique that way."

Sakura hummed at the response, then took a drink of water. To Kakashi's surprise, she moved on rather than commenting on the revelation. "Okay, your turn. Name a silly fear that you have."

As Kakashi mulled over the question, Sakura pushed the food around on her plate then took a bite of the steamed vegetables. She caught him watching and smiled, as if the past ten minutes hadn't happened. And, maybe for her, they hadn't; it had been a stumbling block that they'd climbed over and moved on. Kakashi wasn't sure if he felt the same.

After several awkward minutes of silent consideration, Kakashi shrugged. "This is going to sound dumb, but I have a recurring nightmare of coming to class without my notes and not being able to explain the text we're discussing in class. Then all of my students laugh at me, decide literature is a wasted class, and leave."

"Has that ever happened?" Sakura tipped her head to the side as she waited for an answer. Her hair slid away from the pale column of her neck, and Kakashi stared at the bit of exposed skin for a millisecond. Then, he shook his head by way of answer, not trusting his voice.

"I think you could probably fake your way through anything." Sakura tapped her fingers on the white table cloth, then nodded sharply. "I'm scared of fireflies."

Kakashi couldn't stop the eyebrow that crept upward in confusion. "What? Why?"

Delicate shoulders raised in a shrug. "They're creepy, and they're everywhere in the summer with their little flashing butts. Then, they crawl all over you, and just, ugh," a shiver raced through Sakura's body at the thought, and Kakashi had to stifle a laugh. He held out his hand for the questions then skimmed over them. If she wasn't going to make fun of him for being afraid to forget how to do his job, who was he to tease her about bugs?

"Okay, what's an unusual or unexpected talent you have?" Kakashi asked, cutting his steak now that the tension had started to fade. He needed something to soften the blow of drinking alcohol without having eaten enough food during the day.

For a couple of moments, Sakura frowned in thought before coming up with a response. "I've trained in muay thai for years, and I'm actually really good at it."

Kakashi fought to reconcile the idea of the not quite five foot tall woman being a martial arts master. For the briefest of moments, he wondered what it might be like to be manhandled by someone so much smaller than him, then blushed. Coughing to cover up the thought, he found his answer. This one was easy. "I have a photographic memory. If you show me something once, I can memorize it with no problem."

"That sounds exhausting." Sakura shook her head as if the idea was too much to consider.

Kakashi cut his eyes at Sakura and grinned. "Muay thai is much less exhausting," he quipped.

Sakura snorted and dipped her head at the comment. "Touche. Let me see that."

As the woman's eyes roamed over the questions, Kakashi took a moment to appreciate that despite his misgivings, the fundraiser had been well thought out. The restaurant was upscale and decorated for the event without being garish. The food and drinks were planned out which meant the patrons didn't have to make decisions about what to order. Then, the candlelight and soft music, along with the champagne, helped lower inhibitions while creating the ideal romantic setting. Finally, the questions had done their job of shrinking the distance between the couples. Maybe Ino and Tenten weren't so bad at planning after all.

"Name something that most people assume about you, but they're wrong." Sakura handed the paper back to Kakashi so he could pick the next question, but he didn't look at it. He was too busy considering the current one to figure out what to ask next. He had that exact scenario come up more times than he cared to remember.

Shrugging, Kakashi drained his second glass of champagne. "A lot of people think I'm arrogant, though I guess aloof and unaffected might be a better term? Standoffish, maybe? I don't know how to explain it exactly, but it happens a lot."

"Wait, you aren't?" Sakura's grin gave the lie to her words, but Kakashi felt an echo on insecurity at the laughter. She nudged his knee with hers. "I'm kidding. Why would someone think that? You've always seemed pretty genuine and open to me."

Kakashi managed a half smile. "So, you remember when I said that you had this ideal me in your head who wasn't real? Well, that's part of it. As a teacher, I have to come across that way. At least, we're supposed to."

"So, you're saying that the person you are in class is drastically different from who you are outside of it?" Sakura frowned as she considered the implications, then continued. "You come across as an intelligent, deep thinker who probably cares too much. There's a playfulness about you, probably because you worry that the other comes on too strong, so you try to balance it."

Kakashi's cheeks warmed at the alarmingly accurate description. "Wait a minute. Did you say you were a medical student, or a psychology major?"

"Definitely medical, but they overlap a little." Sakura let go of the analysis as quickly as it had come on. "Everyone thinks I'm a little girl who is afraid to get her hands dirty or do anything for herself because of the way I look."

"Do you beat them up when they say that," Kakashi teased, given the recent martial arts revelation. "I'm pretty sure that people would pay good money to see that."

As much as Kakashi hated to admit it, his first impression of Sakura hadn't been that different from what she described. The bright pink haired girl with brilliant green eyes had looked high maintenance when she walked into his classroom all those years ago. She'd been smart, funny, and presumably used to getting her way because of her looks. As he'd gotten to know her better, he hadn't revised his opinion so much as not thought about it. It left Kakashi with the uncomfortable realization that he might stereotype people too quickly.

"I've actually won a few bouts in the ring, but I need to be careful with my hands if I want to be a doctor." Sakura shrugged with an almost embarrassed expression at the admission. "When my undergrad advisor found me covered in bruises after a bad one, she threatened to call the police on my boyfriend at the time."

Sakura chuckled at the memory, but Kakash saw nothing funny about it. He watched her, uncomfortable thoughts running through his mind. "So, what caused you to take up fighting in the first place?"

Taking a bite of her meal, Sakura shrugged. "It's not important."

The nonchalant way that Sakura delivered the words made Kakashi think it might be the most important thing that she'd said all evening. There was a story behind what led the woman to train the way she did, but she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. At least, not with him. Kakashi couldn't blame her, he wasn't ready to talk about Rin either.

Even so, Kakashi was surprised to find that he wanted to know the rest of Sakura's story. Had she taken up fighting because someone had abused her in the past? A parent or boyfriend, maybe? There had been no signs of it when he'd known her, but things like that could be easily hidden. Kakashi watched Sakura avoid the question with deft, easy answers and false smiles. A splinter of hurt had buried itself inside the woman, and Kakashi wasn't sure that she'd dealt with it. He wondered if her ex had known that, or if he'd been the one who put it there.

Nodding, Kakashi let the subject drop. He didn't want to force Sakura into talking about something she wasn't ready for. Kakashi pushed his plate away, surprised that he'd eaten as much as he had with all the questions and answers. Sakura had finished as well and gone back to nursing her alcohol. Kakashi watched her, worried that he'd upset her with the question about what made her want to take up fighting.

Before the question could leave Kakashi's lips, a waiter appeared to collect their plates and empty glasses. He watched the man work with surprising efficiency and wondered just how much money the fundraiser had saved by using students instead of restaurant staff. The kids moved around with a surprising sense of urgency, removing plates and glasses or refilling them. Kakashi and Sakura's waters had been filled, and their third flutes of champagne still waited on the table.

Several waiters moved around the room distributing dessert at the tables. As a young man placed a single plate between Kakashi and Sakura, he felt his eyebrows creep upward. It held a large slice of chocolate cake with chocolate sauce, sliced strawberries, and whipped cream around the edges. The waiter placed two forks beside the dessert and bowed before moving on. The obvious intent was for the couples to share. Kakashi chuckled under his breath. Had he thought that this event was well thought out? Who would expect people who were practically strangers to share a single dessert?

Sakura must have seen Kakashi's expression, because she rolled her eyes. "Ino is a hopeless romantic. I'm sure she thought everyone would be happily buzzed and half in love by this point. She didn't think it through."

Kakashi inclined his head in agreement. "Yeah, it certainly seems that way. You're welcome to the cake, if you want it."

The pinkette reached toward the cake, then paused as if expecting a trap. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't really care for sweets," Kakashi explained. He was sure the excuse sounded like a fit of gallantry, but it wasn't. Kakashi would have been perfectly happy if there was no dessert. He vastly preferred savory flavors.

Studying Kakashi through narrowed eyes, Sakura pulled the dessert closer to herself. She waited for a couple of moments before reaching for one of the full, red strawberries along the side. Kakashi eyed the fruit with a dubious expression as she raised it toward him by the stem. "Come on, just one little bite. You might like it."

Kakashi chuckled and shook his head. "I don't hate fruit, but I don't want any. It's not a personal challenge."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kakashi got the uncomfortable feeling that Sakura might view him that way. The aloofness that he'd always treated his students with made him inaccessible in the way that she wanted; I've had a crush on you for years. The thrill of the chase was one of the reasons that Sakura was interested in him, Kakashi understood that. His subconscious found it amusing. And, so what if that's what it is? People play hard to get all the time. Kakashi knew the argument was rational, but he wasn't trying to encourage Sakura. At least, not really.

Sakura accepted the reasoning without argument and turned the berry around in her hands to take a bite. She savored the sweetness with a quiet sound of pleasure in the back of her throat, then smiled when she noticed Kakashi watching her. Licking a stray bit of chocolate that had been drizzled over the fruit, she shrugged. "I don't think you're a challenge, at least not in the traditional sense of trying to win something. It's more because you won't let anyone get close to you, and I want to know why."

Kakashi laughed, but he didn't have an answer for Sakura. There were too many things to explain over a single dinner, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. The woman seemed undaunted as she speared a piece of cake on the end of her fork. "So, I guess the real question is if you hold yourself away from people because you're a classic Byronic hero, or more of a tragic hero?"

The sudden change in topic left Kakashi dumbfounded for approximately five seconds, then he burst out laughing. "Okay, how much research did that line take?"

"Hey, i took literature classes." Sakura argued around her next bite, pointing her fork at Kakashi like a knife. Even so, her face flamed crimson in the soft light of the candle.

Kakashi took a sip of water to clear the crackle of laughter from his throat before facing the woman beside him. "You took two Introduction to Literature courses, which I taught, and I know for a fact that we never delved into heroic archetypes."

"I can learn things without your help," Sakura shot back as the color on her cheeks deepened.

Inclining his head, Kakashi made a soothing gesture. He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or embarrassed that Sakura had done some research before their "date". He settled somewhere in the middle with a smile. "You've missed some important classifications," he suggested, returning to Sakura's earlier question. "It's possible that I don't fit into either of those types."

"Well, you're not an antihero no matter how many people think you're arrogant." Sakura brought her gaze up with a softness that made Kakashi's heart skip a beat. Unlike so many girls her age, she had the maturity to hear what hadn't said, as well as what he had. She saw that the judgment of arrogance bothered him. Before Kakashi could dwell on that, Sakura continued. "Those people are either jealous or intimidated, and it's easier to write you off as arrogant than to get to know you."

"Is that what you're doing," Kakashi asked, strangely aware of the soft buzz of alcohol in the back of his mind. "Getting to know me?"

Sakura held Kakashi's gaze for a long moment, curiosity and something much warmer sparking inside her eyes. He refused to put a name to the hungry expression. "I'd like to," she confided in the soft, intimate bubble the halo of light made around their table. "If you'll let me."

Head swimming, Kakashi blew out a breath and chuckled. It was time to diffuse the situation with some humor. "You've left out the possibility that I'm not the hero type at all. Maybe I'm just a grumpy, old man."

"Everyone's a hero to someone," Sakura countered, with a sharp bite behind the words. Kakashi wanted to know what brought that tone to her voice, but before he could ask, she continued. "Besides, you aren't that old anyway. I've done my research. I'm twenty-five, so that would make you thirty-nine, give or take a year."

Having the numbers stated so blatantly made Kakashi uncomfortable, but Sakura breezed past them. "It made a massive difference seven years ago, but it's hardly remarkable now. I'm not some moon-eyed teenager. I've experienced life and seen how the world works."

"How so?" Genuine curiosity surged inside Kakashi at the sheer confidence that Sakura displayed when laying out the reasons that the gap between them didn't matter.

Sakura reached for her third glass of champagne and considered the question. "I learned that love isn't enough to make a relationship work, neither is physical attraction. I learned how to get myself out of tough spots without relying on anyone else. And, I've learned that some battles aren't worth fighting, and some are."

Green eyes flashed up to catch Kakashi's, leaving no doubt in his mind that Sakura had lumped him into the latter category. Kakashi blushed. He wasn't sure why the insinuation surprised him, but it did. Sakura reached out, almost brushing Kakashi's hand, she stopped her fingers just short of connecting with the skin. "If you don't feel any chemistry between us, I can accept that. But, if you won't even allow the idea because you're scared of what someone might say, I've badly misjudged you."

The words left Kakashi speechless. Sakura's face took on an earnestness that stole his breath, so he turned away to buy some time. Ino stood on the other side of the room with a group of boys and girls that must have been around the same age as Sakura. The blond grinned up at a cell phone camera while making a peace sign. He sat with the comparison for a heartbeat, then brought his gaze back to Sakura. "You don't act like other girls your age, or seem to think like they do."

The pinkette laughed with a touch of sadness. "I used to, but life screws everyone over at different times. Mine just came earlier than theirs." Sakura eyed Kakashi over her next bite of cake. "I think the same thing happened to you."

An uncomfortable lump rose in Kakashi's throat that water wouldn't wash away. The memory of Rin was still as strong in his mind as it had been on the night that he lost her. Kakashi exhaled and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about that."

"I don't need to know who you were before." Sakura spoke with enough authority that Kakashi almost believed his past didn't matter. "I only care about the person you are now, and that isn't a grumpy old man."

Kakashi laughed, the tension of the moment evaporating like a soap bubble. "I mean, I kind-of am. I'd much rather be at home reading a book by the fire than pretty much anything else."

"So, let's go home." Sakura's voice dropped to a low, seductive purr that made Kakashi's body twitch in response, despite his best effort to the contrary. As the date started to wind down, the invitation in her words became more obvious. Kakashi found himself wanting to be swayed by the woman's arguments about why it wouldn't be wrong to go home with her. As if she could read his mind, Sakura leaned closer. "I bet I could change your opinion."

"I'm sure you could," Kakashi answered. His head spun, and his throat was tight. Kami-sama, it had been a long time since he felt the curious combination of excitement and nausea that signaled butterflies in his stomach. He centered himself in reality, however. "But, there's something else that you should know about me. I'm old fashioned when it comes to relationships, especially so by your standards, I imagine."

Sakura frowned for a moment, dissecting the words. Then, she asked what Kakashi expected. "How old fashioned are we talking?"

"Old fashioned enough not to sleep with someone on a first date," Kakashi clarified, finishing off his water and pushing the glass away. "Especially after they've been drinking."

Something unreadable flitted through Sakura's eyes, but Kakashi couldn't figure out if it was respect or disappointment. Then, the woman grinned. "Bold of you to assume that was an invitation to sleep with me. I was going to make you some warm milk and tuck you in, old man."

Kakashi burst out laughing, a deep rumble in his chest that left behind a warm sensation. Sakura's eyes sparkled, and he suddenly knew that he'd do anything in his power to capture that look of pure pleasure on her face a second time. He wanted to make her repeat it in other circumstances, to be the one she reserved the look for.

Warmth settled comfortably behind Kakashi's cheek bones. "Would that make you my nurse, then?"

The burst of crimson on Sakura's face was worth the flush on Kakashi's. She stumbled over her words trying to respond, then her eyes grew dangerous. "I mean, I didn't know you were into roleplaying, but if that's how you want to—"

"Okay, you win." Kakashi loosened his collar a second time, worried that the blaze from his face might be strong enough to heat the entire room. He forced himself not to dwell on the image that Sakura had given him. If he thought about her in a nurse's outfit for too long, it might violate his personal morals and ethics, not to mention undermine the rules they'd just been talking about.

Sakura caught her lower lip between her teeth in a way that did nothing to help Kakashi regain his composure. "Amateur," she teased.

"Alright love birds, listen up! You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here," Ino's voice came over the loudspeaker, drawing groans and complaints from the patrons. "Our time limit here is coming to a close. So, if you're still getting to know your partner, or they turned out to be a flop, join us for drinks at the Blue Room Bar. It's just down the street, and it's open until three!"

A cheer went through the room, underscoring Kakashi's realization that most of the people who'd taken part in this charity were younger than he'd expected. "Someone will be coming by to collect payments for additional alcohol purchased. We hope you all had an amazing night! From everyone here at Hearts of Fire, thanks for supporting us and the Wounded Warrior Project!"

Kakashi blinked as the lights in the room came back to full brightness, drawing groans from the crowd. The buzz of voices grew more prominent as chairs moved back from tables or people wrapped up their date. Sakura snagged another couple of bites of the dessert before pushing the plate away. Kakashi marveled at the idea that the time had passed as quickly as it had twenty. He pulled out his wallet, and Sakura paused in the middle of opening her purse. "What are you doing," she asked.

Kakashi set his credit card on the table and gave her a questioning stare. "I assumed it was obvious, but I'm paying for our drinks."

A waiter took Kakashi's card and swiped it through a square reader on his phone without really looking at them. After a few seconds, the boy handed it back and moved to the next table. One pink eyebrow arched prettily. "Aren't you worried that everyone is going to talk about how you paid to get me drunk on our first date, Professor Hatake?"

"Let them talk," Kakashi chuckled, fighting to keep a blush off his face at the sultry heat in Sakura's voice. "I'm going to order you an uber, as well."

"I take it the bar scene isn't really your thing?" Sakura closed her clutch as Kakashi shook his head. He couldn't imagine anything more torturous than spending the evening in a loud club surrounded by drunk people. Sakura nodded as if she understood. "It's not mine either, but I don't need an Uber. My apartment is just a couple blocks away."

Sakura pushed her chair back as the words left her mouth. She stood and tucked her clutch under one arm, then she lifted the roses from the side of the table. Kakashi followed, reluctant to let the evening end quite so soon. "Well then, may I walk you home at least?"

"It wouldn't be very old fashioned of you if you didn't," Sakura teased, waiting as another couple filed out of the room in front of her.

Kakashi chuckled and tipped his head. He'd considered offering to give her a ride home, but he wasn't going to drive tonight, even though he didn't feel buzzed from the alcohol he'd had. "I'd rather walk anyway," Kakashi confided. "It's a good night for it."

Sakura nodded in agreement as they moved toward the door with the few remaining couples. A swirl of blond slid between Kakashi and Sakura, wrapping itself around the woman. Kakashi stepped back to give Ino space from rubbing against him in her effort to reach her friend. The girl hooked an arm through Sakura's, pulling her around.

"Come on, forehead, aren't you going to come to the club with me," Ino whined in a sing-songy voice that grated on Kakashi's nerves as soon as it left the girl's mouth. "I've been working on this fundraiser for weeks. Now that it's time to let loose, I need my wingman." Seafoam blue eyes slid over Kakashi. "You can bring Teach if you really want to."

Bristling at the dismissive nickname, Kakashi moved further away to give the women more space. Sakura shook her head as something Ino said, and the blonde glanced in his direction. A soft hiss drew Ino's attention back to Sakura, and the pinkette's cheeks flushed. Kakashi wondered if the expression came from embarrassment or the alcohol they'd drank, though he supposed it hadn't been that much in hindsight. Though, any amount was enough to keep him from behind the wheel.

The conversation grew more animated, Ino tapping one foot against the ground in annoyance as Sakrua gestured with her hands. Kakashi stood a respectful distance away and forced himself not to try and read their lips. The room was almost empty enough for the voices to carry, but not quite. The space gave Kakashi time to make a plan for walking Sakura home, one that did not include sleeping with her if the opportunity arose. And, Kakashi was fairly certain that it would.

After a couple of minutes, Sakura approached Kakashi with a small smile. Ino watched him with a calculating glance over the woman's shoulder, but she didn't speak. She didn't need to, her eyes spoke volumes. Sakura touched Kakashi's forearm. "Are you ready?"

Nodding, Kakashi tipped his head to let Ino know that he understood her unspoken threat, then pushed the door open. A breeze whipped at Sakura's hair as they stepped into the chilly February air. Kakashi glanced back toward the door, half expecting to see Ino staring out the window at them, but they were alone. "So, is she angry because you're going home?"

Sakura shook her head as she turned to the left and started walking down the street. Kakashi matched stride easily, thankful to leave the noise behind them. "Not really, she knows that I'm busy tomorrow. I mean, she's annoyed, but she'll get over it soon. Ino is pretty enough to find someone else to occupy her attention tonight."

"So are you," Kakashi complimented. He felt a surge of pleasure in the step that Sakura missed, then the way she hurried to catch up to him before he continued. "No one would blame you for going out with your friends tonight."

"Tsunade-shishou would." Sakura shook her head, then crossed her arms over her chest as a chill ran through her body. Kakashi wondered if it was the cool night air, or the memory of Tenzo's adoptive aunt that left her shivering. Tsunade was notoriously difficult to please, but she was one of the best advisors in the medical program. Sakura either had the worst luck, or the best at getting the woman to oversee her training.

Humming in agreement, Kakashi slid an arm out of his jacket, then the other. He swept it over Sakura with an easy movement that startled her into stopping. The evening had gotten cold enough that the woman needed something besides a dress that left her shoulders bare. A slight smile twisted Kakashi's lips as Sakura struggled to hold the jacket shut with her free hand. "Would you like me to carry something?"

After a moment of consideration, Sakura held out the flowers. Taking them in one fist, Kakashi waited until the woman had settled the jacket more comfortably on herself before moving again. "Thanks," she murmured as they walked. After a short distance, Sakura cleared her throat and glanced over at Kakashi. "And, for the record, I'd rather be walking home with you than going out to drink with my friends."

"That's a poorly advised choice on your part." Kakashi bumped lightly against Sakura's side when they stopped to wait for a crossing light. "I'm not nearly as fun as your friends would be, I'm sure."

The woman gazed up through the street lights, the red and green from the traffic signals flashing across her , Sakura smiled. "Or, this is the best decision I've made in a while. It's all a matter of perspective."

Undeniable warmth opened in Kakashi's chest as the light changed color. Sakura caught his hand and dragged him forward with the tiniest amount of pressure. He wasn't sure how to respond to her statement, so he said nothing. After passing several buildings, Sakura turned toward one. "This is me."

The woman mounted the first two steps in front of the building without letting go of Kakashi's hand. His feet remained resolutely on the sidewalk, and the pressure pulled Sakura back toward him without any effort. She huffed out a breath and stared up at him with more than a hint of frustration. "You meant it, didn't you?"

Kakashi inclined his head, drinking in the details of Sakura's body wrapped in the silvery white of his jacket like a cloak. The chill had raised color on her cheeks and the tip of her nose, but it only made her more vivid against the backdrop of her apartment building . "I did," Kakashi answered, reluctance slowing his words. He exhaled in a slow stream, forcing himself not to pull her closer. "I do."

"I don't want the night to end here," Sakura whispered, tightening her hold on Kakashi. She glanced behind her at the door leading into the apartment building. "Why don't we just go upstairs and hang out for a little while. It's still early."

Kakashi chuckled and followed the woman's gaze. He brought his eyes back to Sakura's, dropping his voice. "Because, we both know where that would lead."

"Rules are made to be broken, you know that, right?" Sakura frowned at Kakashi, and the challenge in her gaze promised an unforgettable evening if he'd go back on his word. The hand that had been holding the jacket closed came to rest on the center of Kakashi's chest. Her fingers curled against the soft fabric of his shirt as she tipped her chin upward. It was a clear invitation for him to close the distance between them.

When Kakashi didn't kiss her, Sakura's eyes fluttered open. "Are you too old fashioned to kiss on the first date, too?"

"No," Kakashi breathed. He lifted Sakura's hand to press a feather light kiss to the skin. "But, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

True to the words, Kakashi placed a second kiss on the inside of Sakura's wrist as he turned her hand over with his. He trailed his lips toward her forearm when her sleeve slid up from the angle. The soft, breathless gasp that left Sakura's throat was as intoxicating as it was dangerous. With her standing on the stairs, they were almost equal height. It made it difficult for Kakashi to think about anything except for how close her mouth was.

"You're a tease," Sakura whined. Her hand returned to Kakashi's shirt, pulling him through the space between them. Electricity jolted through his body when her lips brushed his chin instead of his mouth.

"Come upstairs with me," Sakura repeated; voice tight and breathless. "Just for a little while. You don't have to stay all night."

Kakashi's resolve wavered and he leaned close enough to brush his lip against Sakura's ear. When he spoke, the heat of his breath left her shivering. "Happy Valentine's Day, and goodnight, Sakura."

Pulling away took all of Kakashi's self control, but he made himself do it. His heart pounded a staccato inside his chest that he couldn't deny. He offered the roses that he'd carried home for Sakura, and she stared at him with the most beautiful expression of longing and annoyance that he'd ever seen.

Sighing, Sakura took the flowers and shook her head as Kakashi turned away. He almost missed the words she said next. "You can't stop me from thinking about you tonight," she purred.

Kakashi closed his eyes for two seconds, self control warring with the desire to throw caution to the wind. The former won, however, and he winked over his shoulder at the woman behind him. "I'm counting on it."

#My writing #KakaSaku #KakaSakuVDay #Modern AU #First Date #Awkward Humor #Confessions #This story is a mess that I love dearly

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