#((and PEOPLE ANSWER YOUR FUCKING EMAILS. HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GIVE ME A QUOTE???))

[queenharumiura]

((I'm real tired and stressed so I'm gonna have a lazy day. Maybe also tomorrow. We'll see.

Too lazy to post it but Haru got 18 and Fiore got 41. Haru is mad lol. Fiore is just, ah so below average? Checks out.))

[maxlarens]

hi lilli! i’s me jayde (ham1lton)!

happy bday in advance!!! and for your event can i have a 🌎 office au with charles/lewis/oscar? up to u!! feel free to change up the prompt!! love u and ur blog <3

hihihi jayde thank you so much for this!!! ugh i love it so much i'm just gonna say a few things about each of them because i got ideas for all of them😇😇 i know u love a bit of a cringefail loser and honestly they're all a bit like that here:

charles is that coworker u have weird tension with iykwim like the guy that you KNOW if you'd met him at a bar or a party or whatever you'd be flirting up a storm and you'd probably be making out in a dark corner by the end of the night. but you're coworkers! so instead he spends too long talking to you at your desk. he asks you pointless questions just to have an excuse to talk to you. and other people def gossip about you two when you're not around. like everyone is aware that there's SOMETHING going on there. also i think he's bad at his job. sorry charles. u just scream failloser in the workplace. he ignores his inbox and every time you get a "finished" project from him you have to redo it. which is why u never hook up with him.

look lewis is definitely your boss or your manager. like he has to be. he does not give coworker vibes at all to me. he's not very middle manager to me either. so i think he's the CEO or the director or whatever. he's not in the office most of the time but when he does come in he knows everyone's names your name and he asks how your mum is going or whatever it is. like he remembers little details about you even though you'd fully expect and be fine with him to have no clue. and he's charming and nice and has you blushing and giggling even though you KNOW he's your boss. and then after he leaves you realise he didn't do ANY WORK. no meetings, no paperwork, nothing. he just came in, chatted you up, gave a speech and left before anyone could complain about anything serious.

oscar is the only coworker you have that's competent sorry charles he answers emails with haste! he completes his projects on time! he's the person you talk to when you need to bitch about the one several coworker that doesn't do their job. he brings u coffee and pastries everyday but is never pushy or weird abt anything. he's happy to be very normal friends, but if you want to initiate something then he's probably happy to do that too! he'd just be that guy who takes no shit and is good with telling overbearing managers to basically fuck off.

i'll tag u as well 💝 @ham1lton

my bday celly💝

[my-castles-crumbling]

TO CAMP ANON

Hi love! Someone sent some advice to you, so I'm putting it under the cut because it's a bit heavy. I hope you're doing well <3

I’ve been keeping up with your tumblr and your asks and stuff, and I hope it’s okay but I had something to say to Camp Anon.

I sort of inferred the situation through your answers Cas. When I was a kid I was often in group at church with other “rebellious” kids. I know now that we were all the queer kids who hadn’t realised yet (credit to them, maybe some of them had) and then when I turned 16 and partly figured myself out I started getting invested in peoples stories.

By that point a lot of the kids I’d gone to church with were also closeted, and we started talking to each other about ourselves and our experiences.

And turns out a few of those kids went to conversion camps. The summers before and after I found out. 

One of the kids was a year older than me and is still a very close friend of mine. She’s actually taking a course to be a therapist now.

And there were a few things they said (and my friend still says when she decides to talk about it) that I thought maybe you should know. 

It seems like from Cas’ answers to the ask, that Camp Anon has been somewhere before and I presume is going somewhere else again this summer? (Parents don’t usually send kids the same place twice in a row)

Look, I have some advice that’s gonna suck but I think you should hear it. You need to know before you go to the camp what sort of level/type the camp it is. 

There are ways to find out and i’m gonna list some here and just do as much research as you can (safely) because if you’re unprepared it will be difficult to leave if you need to.

So the camp has to find away of telling parents what it’s like without directly saying it. It’s often found in quotes.

Theres a big difference between “helping your child” and “healing your child” and “fixing your child”. 

Helping usually means giving quotes and bibles and doing straight kid activities (whatever that means).

Healing usually means a lot of churchy sessions, “explaining” what’s wrong with you, being more delicate

And then fixing means being absolute dickheads. 

There should also be a website somewhere, or a form or something that your parents had to sign. Sometimes that can be over an email or sometimes it’s a letter. It’s just another way for the camp to cover their asses. Whatever is written inside it should give a vague message about the danger level, how many things they want to cover themselves for.

Also- about recording the camp. If you do decide to (no pressure, always prioritise your safety), focus on filming the other kids around you. If your phone is caught or found, if the videos start of silly with other kids in (as long as they know the risk of being caught with a phone too), it’s unlikely someone will scroll through all the videos, which will mean even if they’re deleted, you won’t rise too much suspicion. 

You can also hide videos in other places, like take a video you have and put it in a draft on your tumblr account, and then delete it from your phone. That can be done on Insta too. It does require internet but I assume you have mobile data.

Also camps without phones will still have wifi for adults, sometimes this is free wifi. If it is, don’t use it (if possible).

Also, sometimes the location of the camp on fliers won’t be the real location. For example, it might be the location of the church you go to, but the place you sleep might be one road over, so stay awake. Keep an eye on road names if you move from the location your parents dropped you off at (in case someone needs to come get you, and then can’t find you). 

It is illegal to say that being queer kids can be “fixed”. It’s against the law for camps to do this. Conversion therapy is illegal and wrong. Morally wrong and literally wrong. Not a thing. Doesn’t work. Total fucking bullshit.

And be careful. I know there’s a temptation to bring a weapon (like a knife) with you to these places, and it makes sense. But these kids have been through a lot, like you, and can be really depressed and have mental health issues. And you don’t want a kid to do something bad to themselves with a knife you brought with you to the camp. 

(Cas here: just remember if that ever happens, it's NOT your fault)

Just think it through. 

And be careful who you talk to, some of these kids believe the stuff they’re told. It’s not their fault but don’t assume everyone will agree with you about the situation. 

I don’t want to get too involved, I understand this is an overwhelming thing and reaching out just to talk about it was so brave. If you’d like I can ask my friend, who’s been to places like that, if there’s any personal advise she can give.  Or not, either way is fine. 

And finally, the area I grew up in had a terrible social services place nearby, and when you called the number for social services that school gave you, they’d just send someone from there. There was a kid I used to know who called social services on his family and the guy who showed up was friends with his dad. 

Idk if you have good social services or not but do some research first if you can ❤️

(Cas again: let me know if you want me to reach out to this anon to ask any questions or to get info from their friend! We support you <3)

[gradstudentdrone]

"How was your summer?" When time speeds up and stands still

It is August 27, and in less than a week, the school year will begin. In the lead up to the start of the school year, I've had an influx of meetings and a noticeable increase in emails. In many of these interactions come the question:

"How was your summer?"

It is a hard question to answer. In all cases, I respond honestly. It was a terrible summer, my dad unexpectedly passed away, my family and I are still processing our grief. Sometimes, people respond compassionately. A few times, it is clear that I've made a faux pas, making me realize that social norms dictate that when people ask how you are, most don't really want to know.

I am also sharply aware that there is a time limit to how long you're expected to grieve. A few days is understandable, a few weeks maybe, but a few months? Then people are just being self-indulgent!

That my workplace offers a one-month bereavement leave is apparently a rarity since other workplaces, from what I hear, only offer five days. It is cruel to expect people who have recently lost a love one to - what? - attend a meeting to figure out service commitments for the year? Who gives a shit? Why does that matter?

So how was my summer?

Here's the real answer:

It began with a beautiful trip to the cottage, where my dad read at the dock, hung out with us at the beach and the lake, and even played table tennis. My mom told me that my dad was a table tennis shark in his youth, and it was pretty cool to see him play with SP, aggressively ducking and dodging and watching the ball eagle-eyed.

Another favourite memory was him having ice cream with us, which, being diabetic, he normally opted out of, but this time decided to eat with his grandkids.

That trip was idyllic. Time stood still. Was it 9 am when we were at the dock? How did it become 3 pm so quickly? Should we figure out lunch? Should we go to town? Did we want to take a nap? Or did we want to keep reading? Having no obligations meant that we could do whatever we wanted, and so could relax and unwind. We didn't know then that this pleasant, run-of-the-mill, beginning of summer trip would be the last we'd have with my dad.

The contrast between the slow pace of that week is sharp compared to the rapid escalation of events just whirling by on the week of June 30. (And readers, trigger warning - this gets somewhat bleak).

At 8 am, I woke up with a text from my brother saying, "Papa is dead." When I saw all of the missed text messages and phone calls that accrued in the last half hour, I realized belatedly that something horrific had happened. The entire car ride to my parents house, I was in a state of cold numbness. Part of me didn't believe what my brother texted. Maybe I would open the door and my dad would be ok. Maybe they just had a scare.

I was wrong. When I entered the house, I saw my dad lying on the floor by the couch, an orange blanket over him, my mom and my brother huddled together, ashen-faced. A cop with a notepad was asking questions.

And here time moved so quickly that it was hard to catch up. I couldn't even take a breath. I was hit with information: my dad passed away on the couch, where my mom and brother found him. They estimated that he probably passed at 3:30 am or 4 am. He was watching Netflix, which was still on the tv. Apparently, at 7:30 am, they called the paramedics. My brother was asked by 911 to try to resuscitate my dad, to no avail.

At 8:30 am, the cop who was left there was still trying to contact the coroner. "It's a busy day," he said wryly. Left unsaid was that that Sunday, June 30, was a busy day for deaths. I remember thinking that for him, and for the coroners, that day was just another day at work. I made a mental note that there were procedures we had to follow, that I had to be an adult, that I couldn't ask him to leave right now even if I wanted to have just a minute to myself to figure out what the fuck just happened because there were forms that had to be filled out. He couldn't leave unless the coroner released a report. Catatonic with shock, my brother, mom and I tried to confer, whispering, trying to make sense of events.

At 9 am, the cop asked us where my dad's funeral home was and what we wanted to do now. He still couldn't reach the coroner, but he could have the coroner fax the report to the funeral home.

Decisions had to be made.

There was no funeral home on standby. And now we had to get one.

My only point of reference (I shit you not) was the tv show, "Six Feet Under," when it came to the logistics of death. After googling funeral homes in Toronto, I called one, and made arrangements for 'a transfer of care.' My mom, brother and I were trying to process what was happening, and had to figure out whether we wanted the funeral services in Canada, or whether we'd make arrangements to go to the Philippines.

At 10 am, the cop got ahold of the coroner, and asked about whether we'd want an autopsy. My mom said no. I had made arrangements with a funeral home for the 'transfer of care' and they would liaise with the corner.

Decisions had to be made.

At 1 pm, the 'care transfer' team came to take my dad away. This was the last time we'd see him before the funeral, they told us. I asked if they could come back in half an hour. In that half hour - the only time since 8:30 am when we were finally alone - we wept.

At 2 pm, we took an Uber to the funeral home closest to my parents' house, where we were presented with a list of costs and options. Did we want a cremation? Did we want a religious service? Did we want a reception? What casket did we want to have - here, have a look at options at the back. Did we want to bring our own caterer or select from a list of caterers who were familiar with the venue? How about flowers?

Decisions had to be made.

At 3:30 pm, hungry and in shock, the three of us tried to eat at a nearby restaurant. I couldn't eat. I think we want to a ramen restaurant, which I normally would slurp, but everything tasted like cardboard. We tried to plan logistics but because the next day, Canada Day, was a holiday, nothing could be done because all business establishments were closed.

The next day, Canada Day allowed us to pause our planning. It was an odd day. We took my kids to High Park. We knew that this was the calm before the storm. It also dragged longer, in anticipation of what was to come.

And for the rest of the week, time sped up, again.

Many many many decisions had to be made, the bulk of which I, as the eldest daughter, had to decide. There were two events, and others surrounding these events: main events were the funeral service and the reception but there were also logistics to handle, including figuring out the transnational virtual component of our celebration. There were family members to host and to manage, video tributes coming in, a slide show to compile, eulogies to write. Catering menus to consider. Biblical passages to assign. A cantor to hire. A schedule to oversee. All of this had to be decided in four days, given that the funeral and reception were on a Saturday, six days after my dad passed. And amid it all, we still had to live: eating, bathing, and cleaning were still necessary.

Then after the rush of the events being planned, time once again stood still. The silence and calm of the days following the funeral were hard to navigate because it was in this very silence and calm that it became clear what we've lost. We went to the lake and to the beach, again, and while it was nice to be by the water and fun to make sandcastles with the kids, the looming absence of my dad, who normally would be there, haunted us.

In my month of bereavement leave, we also had to deal with a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy, which again was cruel, because certain funds would no longer be accessible past a certain point. Beyond this, though, we just were...there. Trying to remember to eat. (Here, the constant influx of food from friends left at our door helped us remember to eat. I am forever grateful for this act of kindness).

Time stretched long during the day, and sometimes became unbearable at night. I would check the clock. Midnight. 1 am. 1:15 am. 2 am. Why was sleep not coming? I belatedly realized that I was subconsciously keeping vigil till after 3 am most nights, which is when my brother had a final conversation with my dad. Then I would fall asleep, exhausted, after. Early Sundays are especially horrific. Because my dad passed early on a Sunday, Saturday night to Sunday morning have become my haunting hours. My body freezes, my mind whirls, I can't sleep.

Yet even amid all of the sadness this summer, there were still moments of beauty this summer. Normally, I would try to sneak in bits of work, even when I'm off. I would sneak a peak into my inbox to make sure that I didn't miss anything. I would try to jot down a paragraph for a paper. I would look at my WhatsApp messages to see whether I was needed by someone, somewhere.

This time, I had no desire to do so. I was only aware of where I was in the present moment. I saw beauty in the mundane. I was perfectly content to be at the splash pad with my kids, laughing at both of them racing each other to see who would get to the button that would activate the sprinklers once more. I loved digging into the minutia of the University of Alabama dorm room where Kiley Reid's new novel, "Such a Fun Age," is set. I was perfectly okay going to Home Depot numerous times, wandering the aisles with MOTL and my kids, debating the merits of different shades of light blue paint for our living room. I didn't have to be anywhere but there, and so I was fully present. Who knew that bereavement would allow me to finally learn all the lessons that meditation apps have tried to teach me about only being in the moment?

Following bereavement leave, with time speeding up once again, and as I return to work, I oftentimes have surreal, out-of-body moments where it becomes clear that the urgency that workplace missives demand is fabricated and made-up. That a lot of us have been trained to jump and run. That we're all perpetually trying to vie for the legitimacy of our presence in this institution. That we are all indoctrinated into publishing or perishing, with many women of color professors actually dying prematurely young because the corrosive nature of academia have taken a health toll. (The term slow violence, I think, is applicable here).

I don't want to play this game anymore.

In one such surreal, out-of-body moment, when I was exchanging messages with a friend, I realized that I didn't have to. This friend wanted to apply for a grant, but wanted to meet THAT week even when I couldn't, and when I said this wasn't possible because I had no childcare that week, then said that most of the other partners could not meet in September, the implication being that I had to make myself available. Whereas old me would have contorted herself, parked her kids in front of the TV to try to make the meeting work, now, I realize that I have control over my time. And so I backed out of the grant.

This doesn't mean I don't think time is important. I am beholden to workplace requirements: for example, I have to teach at certain times, or go to mandatory meetings. I also want to make sure my graduate students finish their dissertations before their funding runs out. And I am beholden to research partners who are facing actual time pressures: their tenure clock is non-negotiable and so we have to work together to churn out that article. I also feel an obligation to my community: there's a deportation order for someone, and so it was important that we write our support letters asap!

But ultimately, being selective about what to focus on, on what truly matters, is the only way for me to survive the year.

So, really, how was my summer?

It was shitty. So fucking shitty. But when it wasn't shitty, I got to be present and appreciate what I actually still have -- time to live.

[omgpoindexter]

Hey!! saw some people talking to you about this and i thought id add my piece as someone who got diagnosed with adhd in college. I completely relate to your experiences with trying not to procrastinate things but doing it anyway and then feeling crippling guilt bc of it. i got away with it through high school but as soon as i hit college and nearly failed a class bc i only did half the content i knew something had to change. I’m diagnosed w adhd inattentive type, on meds, and in therapy now and while it’s not perfect i have hope and seen signs of improvement and the hope is rlly what matters i think.

i know you’re not american so i cant directly help you information-wise, but i went through both university resource and a private online psychiatry org so if you have anything like that available then it will probably help. another thing that helped me was having a friend sit with me while i wrote emails/made phone calls.

i guess all this goes to say that i absolutely feel your pain and there are ways to make it better for yourself. maybe an adhd diagnosis isn’t what you get, but if you think there’s anything that can help you deserve to get it and not just suffer in silence. i believe in you and i hope you find answers

hiii!! <3 i do relate to that, and it is really hard! i think these instances have been far enough apart for me so far that i have been able to forget how it made me feel at the time, or, like - in my head if i feel like this for a few weeks every year or so then it’s okay. if i were to go back into academia now and have regular deadlines i would certainly see a difference.

the thing i was procrastinating that i just finished, the one i posted about; i was avoiding it for so long and it became so last minute that i felt sick with guilt every time i went to sleep at night. i’ve finished it now and it’s done, but that feeling doesn’t go away instantly, i still feel like that every time i do something like read or play a game. or SLEEP!!!

i also have this feeling of, like - i am relatively smart, i always worked hard and i was always SO well behaved (i fucking loved rules as a kid, like my mum told me i should care a little bit less about rules) and that’s not the kind of thing i always associated with adhd. that also adds to the thought that maybe somebody wouldn’t take me seriously if i went and asked for help, because i don’t look like somebody that could have adhd. that’s total bullshit i know, like absolute nonsense, but those feelings are still deep down somewhere.

i’m so glad you’re seeing a difference with the help you recieved, that’s amazing! hearing these stories does give me more confidence & challenges that idea that if i went for help i wouldn’t get turned away, so thank you very much for reaching out and taking the time to write me a message! it’s so lovely of you <3

[giftedpoison]

Things I've said at work as someone in charge of a ragtag group of people:

Please don't pass out, take a break, if you pass out i have to call the emergency line and i really don't want to.

I'm going to run you over. (In lieu of asking them to move. In a deadpan)

Please don't commit murder on company time.

I shouldn't have to say this, but don't strip in the department there are cameras.

If management doesn't want to help you when you're drowning just threaten them by saying you'll cancel orders. They usually jump into action then.

If you're gonna do something against the rules i don't really care but the least you could do is be stealthy about it.

Yeah i picked the lock on the drawer because i accidentally lost the key. No i can't explain that skill. But it's like riding a bike.

My manager told me x thing was how you grow a business. And i told him or how you burn them down when you don't have the tools to handle demand.

*writes a 1200 word email to two of the managers because I'm better at the written word and i was fed up*

Bitch you ate a silica packet once don't start with me (they are my friend)

I'm coming for whoever did this' knee caps. What the hell. (generally in response to a bag being overstuffed)

If a cart locks on me on the way out I'm burning the building down. (it does and i just give the camera a middle finger and carry on)

*sighs* what the fuck (in response to my idiots finding another weird trinket to collect in the department. Last time it was a cut out of a cartoon that had a character saying they always smell good because they put a dab of peanut butter behind their ear. And it was taped to the computer. We've also had a random baby sock in there.)

Listen i try not to ask questions i don't want the answer to.

I'm gonna need you tall ass motherfuckers to remember I'm in fact five feet and the top shelf is head height. Thank you.

Yeah she's confessed to multiple murders to me before. And i still have no idea if she was lying. I'm sure she was but i don't really care either way that's not my business.

You are not working every day of the week. No i don't care that you were scheduled to give one away. (They wanted to because of money and overtime)

I sincerely do not care enough about anything, no i don't know where my employees are right now, I'm sure they are being productive (they are probably outside smoking)

As long as you get your shit done and aren't making major errors i do not care how you get your work done. (They know if they screw me over I'll be pissed and like me enough not to.)

Sir why do you gotta be like that about it (after an irate customer asked for my manager, i never got the manager and i finally got him to go back to his car)

If I'm still working here by September please come here with a gun and kill me. *Later in the convo* Its a win win because you'll finally get free food and housing and hey maybe you'll get reunited with your mom in prison. (The coworker is at risk of homelessness currently)

I know you don't want to take the temp of the chicken but see it as free therapy if you stab it hard enough.

[the-old-man-has-the-phonebox]

Vent

I hate my NP.

If I had the spoons, I'd find someone else.

I saw her for the first time since July after she magically couldn't get me in for a month despite me needing my meds changed immediately and then rescheduled me *again*. It turns out the email with the telehealth link isn't automated and she sent it to me not a few days before like she usually does, but TWO MINUTES AFTER THE APPOINTMENT WAS SUPPOSED TO START.

She had a med student shadowing her, too. Good fucking luck to her, I don't know how the fuck she's even practicing at this point. I should've said I didn't want her to sit in, but I've always been a fucking doormat and that's all I ever will be.

She had no real sympathy when I told her about my broken foot. I feel bad because I, an autistic person, of *all* people should understand not adhering to social cues, but Jesus Christ— a little sympathy from anyone in my life would be fucking amazing!!! Like, a little more than "sorry to hear that" from her would've been really nice.

She even forgot it multiple times. She also forgot another thing I've been asking of her for MONTHS that I had to once again remind her about.

"So is there a pharmacy near campus you want me to send your refills to?"

"Umm... like I said earlier, I'm not at school. I'm at home and will be indefinitely. I can't really walk on my own right now, let alone live alone in my dorm. Just send it to my usual one."

"oh."

Anyway, I'm starting new meds. Again. I'm trying an NSRI for the first time because she thinks the serotonin part of SSRIs is what gives me nausea issues with new pills (I've been going to her for over half a decade. Did it seriously take that long to think "hmm, maybe SSRIs aren't the answer?"?!?!?)

She made a cheeky comment about "Hopefully next time will be our last meeting for a while because these pills will work and I won't need to come back so often :)".

Ma'am. I think about not being alive multiple times a day every goddamn day. We've discussed this thoroughly, in fact.

To reiterate: as an autistic person who misses social cues like it's my job, I shouldn't be the one to pass judgment. But *god fucking dammit*, you're the PROFESSIONAL here!!! Do your fucking job!!!!! Give a single solitary shit about my life and my existence!!!!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!!!

Hell, I could probably do her job better because at least I can fucking mask!

I didn't even bother asking her about a PPD (Paranoid Personality Disorder) evaluation.

I'm so fucking tired. My mental health has taken an absolute nosedive since I broke my foot and I'm stuck either in bed or on the couch all day every day, and I didn't think it could even *get* any worse than what it was pre-break.

Not even my own fucking doctor cares enough to give a shit about me. My family doesn't really, either.

I'm so tired. I don't want to keep doing this anymore. Fuck.

How the fuck is she a functioning human being? How can she be considered an employable adult when I'M NOT?!? How the fuck has she kept this job?!?!? Why the fuck do abled (to my knowledge) people get to be so fucking incompetent, but if I managed to secure a job and asked for accommodations, I'M THE ONE OUT OF THE TWO OF US GETTING FIRED????

[dragonagepolls]

#hey why the fuck is the amount of people who voted merrill so high#i work in IT and part of my job is tech support and im an expert on this so#merrill: very tech savvy. knows all the lingo. i would not question het about whether she has already booted her computer. shes the kind of#person who. if she were to call IT theyd all be like ''oh no it's merrill who wants to answer...'' bc i KNOW her tech problems would be some#nightmare problems no one on the internet has ever before even looked up. like. something that takes a long time to solve#bc she has already tried everything and shes tol busy to do more#bethany ans carver: know how to operate a smartphone and the very basics of using a laptop#aveline: she knows the programs she needs to use at work. rarely has problems. could do shit with excel.#varric: he would be capable of using tech. but also. if you were to ask him something like ''do you use one drive on your computer'' hed ask#u to repeat that in english. i know it in my heart. he does not know what a cloud is. he knows how to send emails and look stuff up and use#some programs or sites and thats enough#sebastian: im sorry ive yet to play da2 dlc but he looks like a tech bro (derogatory). i doubt he would be but. yknow.#fenris: ''he cant read'' ok shut up thats irrelevant. he would get by and he's resilient and a fast learner#he doesnt need help with the same problem more than once#now. isabela. she. okay she is so very smart and capable and i love her but could you honestly see her using any piece of technology#she would not be an instagram influencer she would have a rotation of burner phones#using a computer is nerd shit. she has the sea what kind of tech do u need there. actually yeah modern ships have a lot of tech#she would be proficient with those. man i voted wrong.#my point was going to be that i cant see isabela using a phone or a computer ever#ok no yeah i still cant see her being good with tech. isabela my love im sorry.#anders: he knows the basics of using a computer and could do VERY simple html to post on forums#hed have a shitty ass webbed site#i dont think hes generally good with tech though. doesnt give me the vibes. (via @perilegs)

[barnes-n-nobles]

Dont You Forget (SMUT)

Request: 

I really love your Bucky fics and let me tell you something, I. Just. Can't. Get. Enough. Of. It! I truly meant every words I said, seriously.

Can I request a Soft!Dark!Mob!Bucky smut being a possessive, lying, manipulator, control freak he is? Like, he won't let you see any of your family or letting you have any friends at all, putting a tracker inside your phone, monitoring all of your activities, gets jealous very easily, always have his men following you around so you can't escape him (If you ever tried), persuade you into quitting your job so you have to financially depends on him, basically all the red flags there are.

Pretty please and thank you. Keep in mind there's no rush in this, I want you to enjoy your own writing too so take your time!!

Tell my why I absolutely love this MMMMMM!! You're too kind! I tried to make him as soft as possible while keeping that dark element to him, I hope thats okay. I also hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it ~

Thank you for your request! Please reblog, like, and let me know what you think!

Warnings: smut, drugging, threats of murder, manipulation, overall toxic behavior, stalking, slight dumbification? 

18+ !!!! If you “keep reading” you are acknowledging that you are 18+ and that you have read the warnings.

Please Do not translate, no permission to repost any of my writing on any other platform, and do not copy this and claim it as your own.

He knew it. His intuition was nothing short extraordinary. Bucky watched as you sat down during your break to chat with one of your colleagues. The cafe you worked at was a very popular destination for wealthy people, not everyone was willing to pay $12 a cup every morning. This was a decent sized establishment with big open windows that customers loved lounging in. Bucky had actually met you here while you were first hired on. He came every single day to see you, making short but sweet conversations. He was parked in the other side of the street, his eyes watched your colleagues moves intensively, making sure he didn’t touch you at all. Buckys thoughts were beginning to get dark with every smile and laugh you flashed at him. He thought about going in there and dragging you out, or beating the fuck out of the little shit, or even better, holding a gun pointed right between his eyes to show him that he does not share with anyone. That last thought had his mouth curl up in a sinister smile. Oh how he loved to cause problems. 

You two had been texting for the past 3 days and he kept flirting with you. You never followed along though and you had to remind him constantly that you had a boyfriend. The guy obviously didnt give a fuck and Bucky was getting tired of it. Bucky originally found out because your phone lit up with a name that was not familiar to him. He pretended he didnt see it and you didnt say anything about it either. He had a feeling that you were doing something behind his back, but he decided to trust you. However that didnt last too long because that night he hacked into your phone remotely and he was able to see every single thing you did on it. From texts, to calls, pictures, emails, social medias. Everything. He was able to see it all through his computer. He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to calm himself down as he watched the idiotic man talk to you. Taking his phone out, he started to call you, watching you as he brought it up to his ear. You felt your phone vibrate, reading it was his contact name, you pressed the green button immediately. “Bucky...whats up” your sweet tone almost calmed him down, but he needed to hold on to his anger a little longer. 

“My doll...are you busy?”

“Not really just went to break. Is everything okay? You sound kind of off”

Bucky let out a breathy chuckle. Your perceptiveness was remarkable, another trait he loved about you. 

“My precious girl, I’m going to ask you somethin’ and I need you to answer it truthfully. Can you do that for me?” 

You gulped, your eyes darting right to your colleague who was chomping down on his food, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.  

“Y-yes, ofcourse” Fuck. When you stuttered it meant that you were nervous. You hoped that it was barely noticeable and that he didnt pick up on it. 

“who is Seth” 

“Hes one of my coworkers here at the cafe” 

“Hmmm. Why havent you told me about him” 

“Bucky..its really not that big of a deal, hes just a friend here at work.” 

“Darling, that didnt answer my question. Why havent you told me about him” 

At this point you knew there was no way you would be getting out of this without arguing. You quickly muted yourself and told Seth, “Im going to the bathroom, Ill be a while in there. Can you cover for me?” Seth noticed your expression drop, knowing that you were worried about something. “Sure, is everything okay?” he grabbed your hand and felt it shake. “Oh my God y/n whats wrong?”. You took a deep breath before pulling your hand away from his, “nothing ill be right back” as you turned he grabbed you again, this time by your arm. “No, tell me whats going on. Is it your toxic boyfriend? What did he say to you to have you this worked up. Look at your hands, they're literally shaking”. “Look ill explain later” as you shrugged him off you turned to walk towards the restroom, only to see that Bucky was already walking towards you. 

“Seth fucking Powers. So you're the one thats been talking to my girl. Didnt anyone ever teach you to not go for someone whos already taken? C’mon..why are you braking the bro code”. Bucky was fuming. His steps were heavy, his gloved hand in a fist as if he was getting ready to smash the guys face in at any given moment. You got in front of Bucky, placing your small hand on his abdomen. “Please Bucky, dont do this. Not here” you whispered, looking around the cafe to make sure no one was looking, but all eyes were on you and your problematic man. Seth chuckled, “Of course I know that. But youre a control freak who doesnt let his girl breathe. Why do you think we've gotten so close, she needs someone to confide in, someone who gets her, and can listen to all the bullshit you put her through. You did this to yourself. Look at her, she clearly doesn't want this, but you're too much of a rabid dog to comprehend or even acknowledge what she want and needs.” Seth was exposing you. You did indeed confide in him, but he wasn't supposed to say it out loud, ever. Bucky looked down at your for a moment, as if asking you if that was true. All you could do was shake your head in disagreement. Bucky used his arm to push you away, getting all close and personal with Seth, who was surprisingly not backing down. 

“The only reason why I dont blow your fucking brains out right now is because of MY doll..shes the only reason why you're alive right this second. But she wont be here to protect your miserable life ever again, you will pay for this..with your life and thats a promise. I hope it was worth it.” Bucky turned around and grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the cafe. As you tried to keep up with him, you turned around to give the cafe one last look, knowing that you would never be stepping foot in there again. When you got to his car, he opened the door for you and motioned with his head to get in. When you did, he slammed the door, making you jump a little. The car ride home was so freaking long, you didn't even dare move a muscle because you didn't want to distract him from his thoughts. Maybe it would trigger him to remember that you were in the car, hence making him talk. 

As he raced through the busy city, you took your phone out. You saw that Seth had sent you quite a lot of long messages. Before you could start reading them,Bucky grabbed your phone and crushed it in his hand. “What the fuck! Why did you do that” your voice rose, but careful to not make it too loud. “Y/n, im going to ask you to stop talking. I dont want to do anything stupid. Please just shut up” he could loose his shit over everything, he’d scream at the top of his lungs when speaking to people on the phone and even in person, but he never did it to you. He tried his hardest to stay calm and not scare you, just as he had promised to do so when you two started to go out. Before you got home you got an idea that would hopefully deescalate his mood. As you two pulled up, you stormed out of the car. Running as fast as you could towards your shared bedroom. Bucky was not even parked yet when you got out. He was so confused but instead of laughing about it, he got more mad. He quickly parked the car and told his guards to go home and switch out with the night crew, which were the ones that made sure no one got in or out of the property unless it was him. Buckys mansion was beautiful, he made a lot of money in his businesses but he made even more on top of that by being the head of the mafia. He controlled all of the southern borders, allowing drugs to flow in to the US from Mexico, Latin America and the West Coast while his best friend Steve Rogers controlled the northern borders and the East Coast. Making them the most successful and powerful mafia in the world. 

As you ran through the house, you could hear faint steps behind you which grew closer and closer. You started to giggle as you thought that he was playing with you too. When you reached the bedroom, you closed it, only for the door to fly open making you fall to the floor. Giggling, you looked up at Bucky only to see his death stare, making your smile fade. “Do you think this is a joke? Are my feelings a joke to you” he slammed the door closed and locked it. “Im sorry Bucky, I thought we were p-playing around now” you stammered while trying to catch your breath. He walked towards you, looking down at you, before grabbing you by your neck and lifting you up to your feet, “Im so fucking mad right now y/n..I keep remembering that imbeciles hands on you and it makes me want to burn him alive” he said through gritted teeth, his hands still wrapped around your neck. The feeling of having him this close made your body tingle, his dominant aura radiating off of him.

“Bucky, please don’t. I’m sorry” your words meant nothing to him. He knew if you were truly sorry you wouldn’t say it, you would show it. He scoffed and let you go, making you stumble onto the end of bed bench. “Miss me with that bullshit. I know you’re not sorry. You kept a secret from me, knowing damn well how badly that would hurt me”. Something about that last sentence got you heated. “Hurt you? Bucky, you made me cut all of my friends off. Friendships that I’ve had for years, for you! If anyone is hurt, it’s me. I felt lonely and lost, but I thought I was okay with it because of you but now…Seth helped me see things for what they are not how you wanted me to see them”. Wow, you couldn’t believe you just said that. Bucky narrowed his eyes, his forehead lines were visible as he scrunched his eyebrows. “So you’re fucking tell me you felt better talking to that bitch than me?! After all I’ve done for you? I let you have a job and this is how you show me you’re grateful?…you can forget about it though you’re never going to work again. You can find something to do in this house. You got everything you could ever want under this roof” as he stormed off, he slammed the door making you flinch. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, a stupid prisoner with golden bars. You weren’t going to deal with this anymore thought. This was the last straw, so you decided to pack up your shit and leave.

As you went through the closet, most of your items were expensive pieces of clothing that he bought you. The shoes were almost all heels and wedges. You needed something comfortable to blend in with and run in. As you realized that most of your old clothes that were actually yours were gone, you grabbed some black sweats and a black hoodie of his to get the hell out. You managed to find some old workout shoes you had and got ready to go. There was cameras almost everywhere, so your only way out would be through the window. When you opened it, the sensor went off, announcing that the window had opened. As you pushed it up, you threw one leg over the ledge and the other one followed. Pushing your body out, you landed on your feet, groaning at the feeling of them hurting as you got down. Moving quickly, you started to make your way through the property, evading any guards and blending in as much as you could with the huge bushes and shrubs. Thankfully, you were able to make it to the gate, now the last obstacle was the gate guard. He was the one that opened the gate, but there wasnt any way that he would just let you go through without  his boss’ permission. The only thing you were able to do was wait until someone passed through so you could run right out. 

*Back at the house*

Bucky was drinking some whiskey to help with his anger. Most women would just listen and follow directions when a man of power was in their life, but not you. You were not like other women, you were a challenge and he loved it. He often blamed your stubbornness to your age. You were the youngest girlfriend hes ever been with, so you two would butt heads a lot. He was more traditional, and you were more modern but you two made it work beautifully. Bucky had a very short temper, he got stressed often, however, you were able to take it all away. When he needed to take his anger out, you were the first thing he did when he got home. His heightened senses were able to detect exactly where you were, almost hunting you down. As soon as he laid eyes on you, he pounced, taking you right then and there, chasing his much needed release. You were erotic to him, he just couldn't have enough of you. As he thought back on all of those times you were there to have fun with him, he softened, realizing how shitty he treated you a bit ago. You were probably right, but he was just too angry to even hear you out. You were his doll, always there for him, needing you by his side forever. He really did love you so much, he cared for you and cherished you like no one has ever done before. You two were meant for each other. All these thoughts in Buckys head, had him yearning for you. When he went back into the room, he noticed it was a bit cold, quickly shutting the window. He noticed that the shower was going, so he waited for you to come out. 

“My Doll..its me. I know youre mad but lets talk..please” a couple moments went by, and nothing. “Darling, you know I dont like to be ignored. Answer me” this time he went to the door and knocked on it. Still nothing. Bucky was mad all over again, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it, only to have it stop due to it being locked. He took a deep breath, forcing the knob all the way down, breaking it instantly. He pushed the door open, only to see the shower going..with out you in it. He could feel his heart almost jump out of his chest, he pulled out his phone and called the head of security. 

“Have anyone of you seen y/n?”

“I havent boss. Let me ask the crew” 

Buckys rage started to overpower him, his heart was racing and his jaw was clenching like crazy. He couldn't even track you because he stupidly broke your phone hours ago. 

“Nothing boss. No one has seen her. Is everything okay?” 

“No, go through all the camera footage from when we got home till now. Have the rest of the men look for her on the property. I need the day crew back, tell them to get into their cars and search for her all over the city.Ill pay double time for their work. Whoever finds her, tell them to keep her there until I arrive” 

Your feet carried you through the city streets, running like a maniac to get to your families house. They would surely help you, and besides Bucky didn't know where they lived so you would be safe there. Your side started to hurt, sprinting as fast as possible, getting closer and closer. When you got there, you were relieved to see that all the lights in the house were on. You caught your breath before knocking on the door, taking in breath after breath. The door unlocked and you were met with your mother, who instantly went to hug you, “My god! my little y/l! I thought we would never see you again” her voice cracked as she started to cry. Her warm embrace was enough to have you in tears as well. “Mom, I missed you. Im so sorry for not coming sooner”. Your mom rubbed you back, “Dont worry hun, come in hurry”. As she walked you in, you froze. Your face turning pale at the sight. “James..” is all you could say. 

Bucky got up from the couch, half smiling as he approached you. You took a step back but he had you in his arms before you could go any further. “My precious Doll...you have no idea how worried I was...” his hand went from your waist, up to your back and under your hair, he grabbed the back of your neck and squeezed it, making you wince, “Never..do this again to me again, okay?” The profuse fear that was coursing through you was something you hadn't felt before. “why dont you stay here for tonight” your mom suggested, holding onto her hands as if she was pleading, “Yes id like that” you answered as you let go of Bucky. He just followed you with his eyes, waiting for you to make eye contact with him but since you were actually avoiding it, he got frustrated. 

“y/n, we need to talk outside..lets go” 

“I dont really want to talk, I just want to sle-”

“I said lets go outside” his tone was harsh this time, and your mom noticed. 

“James, maybe its a good idea if you just go home and let her stay here tonight. Ill take her to you tomorrow in the morning.” 

“Look y/m/n, do not intervene. Your daughter needs to learn how to obey me. In fact, lets go. Were leaving right now” Bucky went to grab you by your wrist and started dragging you out. “Dont even try to call the cops y/m/n, they all work for me”. That was the last thing he said to her before dragging you out to the car. “What the fuck is wrong with you” you spat, finally breaking your hand away from his harsh grip. “Im sorry baby” he pulled out a cloth and a brown bottle along with it. When he started to soak it, you were a bit confused as to what he was doing, but then it registered that he was about to chloroform you. When you tried to run, he yanked you by your hair pulling you back into him, covering your nose and mouth. Struggling against him, you felt weak, the world started to blur, your eyes were being consumed by darkness until you fully passed out. Bucky grabbed onto your body, placing it in the back seat before giving you a kiss, “Dont worry my love, were going somewhere far far away where only you and I will be happy”. 

Bucky drove hours to get to the mountains. He got to his newly built cottage that you fantasized about living in when you grew old. He wanted to gift it to you as one of your wedding presents but this would have to do. No one know about this new property, not even his best friend Steve. This was a safe house, completely bullet proof, the windows do not break, soundproof, everything that he needed for an emergency. The doors didnt open unless a key was used, it even had a secret basement that was accessible through the kitchen island, but the best part of all, it was completely off the radar. As he arrived, he took you in first, placing your limp body on the couch. He brought in all the luggage that he gathered from the other house and place it into the master bedroom. He then brought you to bed, waiting for you to wake. As time went by, he noticed that you would not wake up, so he had to get some ammonia and put it near your nose to have you come back. 

“My love...wake up” he whispered, shaking you a little. The piercing aroma woke you up, making you turn your head away from it. Feeling disoriented when you opened your eyes, your mouth started to water as if you were going to throw up. You quickly sat up and covered your mouth, trying to swallow as much as possible to not be sick. Bucky watched as you started to react and smiled at how silly you looked. “My doll..how are you feeling? You look like a lost puppy” he giggled, brushing the hair off of your face. Once you started to look around, you thought you were still dreaming. This area seemed so familiar. Everything you told Bucky you wanted in a house was there. “Is this a dream, where am I” your voice was hoarse, feeling your throat dry. “No baby its not. Were in the cottage that you always wanted to be in” Bucky reached over to get you a glass of water. “here drink this while I explain”. 

“After your little stunt, I decided it would be much better if we just came here for a while. This way, there will be no distractions and we can focus on our relationship. Ill forgive everything you've done, but under 1 condition....you submit yourself to me completely”. Suddenly everything came back. “Did you fucking drug me to bring me here?” getting up from the bed, away from him. “Dont talk to me like that, show me some respect” he warned, getting up with you. He reached for your hand but you yanked it away. “You're insane James. I cant believe you've done this. What makes you think I want to be with you when you've gone to this length over something so little.” Bucky laughed, charging towards you, grabbing you by the neck and pinning you against the wall. “If you think cheating on me is something “little” then youre the one whos fucking insane. I love you y/n, I will not let you ruin this for us. Im the best thing thats ever happened to you. Ive helped you and your annoyingly nosy family like no one ever has. The least you can do is show me a little bit of appreciation”

His metal arm was squeezing you a little too tight, making it hard for you to breathe, “youre a m-murder..why should I-I”. His eyes went wide, letting you go immediately. As you coughed to catch your breath he backed away, there was an expression you've never seen before in his eyes, but it looked like shock. “When you told me about your past as the Winter Soldier, I should have just left. You have no remorse over anyone lives. I dont want that in my own” 

“Then why did you stay” 

“I...I dont know” feeling your face heat up, you turned your back towards him, knowing damn well why you stayed. Bucky walked up behind you, pressing his body against yours. His flesh hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him while his metal one went up to grab your face. You tried to move away, but his grip on you was too tight. His hand moved it to the side, exposing your neck, he traced his nose over your shoulder and up to your neck, taking in your scent as he littered kisses from the base of your neck up to your ear. “Go on..tell me why” he let out a breathy laugh, making you get a shiver down your spine. “Bucky..” you moaned accidentally. “Baby, could it be because you're a horny little thing? Hm? You looove it when I touch you all over. All those times you threaten to leave me..you can never really do it because you know youll miss this” he pressed his erection into your ass, moaning out your name, knowing you love it when he does that. “No one can fuck you like I can, y/n...and frankly I know you dont want anyone else but me to do so” his hand dipped inside of your pants, rubbing your clit over your now wet panties. You arched your back, your head falling onto his shoulder, bitting your lip to not moan. He ghosted his lips over your ear, whispering, “Youre never going to leave me, Doll...you know why? Because youre mine. Fight me, kick me, punch me..anything but it wont change the fact that you only belong to me..and dont you forget it” 

He pulled out his hand, and loosed his grip on you, quickly turning you around to face him. He connected his lips with yours, french kissing you as he guided you into bed. He pushed you down, and watched you pant, smiling to himself at how beautiful you looked when you got manhandled by him. “Why are you looking at me like that. Please just come here” you whined, motioning for him to join you. “Do you deserve it?” Silence. You knew that you didnt, but you still wanted it..soooo badly. “I asked you a question” he insisted. “Well..no but I..you cant leave me like this” 

“Catching an attitude will not get you what you want, brat. Come here and show me how much you want me”. You quickly got up, unbuckling his pants, yanking the Gucci belt off of him and then undoing his pants. Bucky loved seeing you like this, so horny to the point of not caring how desperate you looked. He adored it. He got so hard, just thinking how we was going to keep you in this place until you learned how to be obsessed with him just as he obsessed over you. Taking his thick cock into your mouth, caused him to shudder, moaning out in pleasure. “Mmm fuck y/n...you filthy little whore” he grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you bob your head faster. You gagged yourself on his dick, your nose touching his pubes, taking all of it in. You them took him out, panting, only to do it again and again. “Such a good girl...your mouth feels heavenly”. 

“Please...can you fuck me” you tried to speak while having your mouth full of his cock. Bucky went mad when you did that. He grabbed your hair again and yanked you back onto the bed. He tore your clothes off, making you smile at how rough he was being. As he got naked, you decided to go a little farther. You spread your legs open, touching yourself as you watched him get undress, “buckyyyyy...pleasee come here” you moaned, rubbing your clit. Bucky grabbed your hands and pinned them up to the sides of your head, almost crushing your wrists. “What have I told you about touching yourself without my permission? Are you trying to get punished?” when you laughed, it gave it all away. “what a fucking slut” he spat. He opened your legs with him, and slammed himself into you, instantly thrusting in and out. With no time to adjust, you screamed at the sensation. He was so deep inside you, hitting your g-spot with every snap pf his hips. “s-stop..it hurts” you moaned, balling your hands up into a fist. “No..I know you can take it” his fingers wedged themselves into yours, interlocking them. He panted against your neck, giving you kisses at first then sucking hickeys onto it. He growled like an animal, at how good your pussy ate him up. He eventually started to bite you, making you gasp. “Buckyyy..” you moaned, your hands squeezing his. 

“Youre mine y/n...this is me marking you as my property. No one can have you but me. F-fuck..who does this pussy belong to?” he angled his hips a little before hammering into you again. Your grunted and screamed at how delicious he felt, “fuckk..you..yours”. He chuckled darkly, “come on my slut...form a complete sentence...or are you too fucking dumb to do it? Is your brain not working because of all this cock thats inside of you?hm? my little dumb baby” the way he had you, was too much. You couldn't hold it and you squirted all over him, your legs shaking as you did. As you convulsed under him, he let go of your hands, and wrapped them around your neck. The image of him fucking you, as his hands were on your throat was pornographic. His bulgy flesh and metal muscles tensing up, as his dog tags dangled over you, was just so sexy. “C-cum inside me Bucky..please..im yours to use and abuse” you choked out. He bit his bottom lip, before cursing through gritted teeth. Your lewd words were enough to push him over the edge, making him spill his warm seed inside of you. He thrusted into you a couple more times, before laying on top of you as he caught his breath. 

“Bucky..youre crushing me” you struggled to lift him up, but he got up using his arms, and didnt disconnect his dick from inside you. “Sorry Doll..just give me like a couple minutes. I want to go again”

“again? I dont think thats such a good idea. We still need to talk about this whole situation.” 

“Ugh dont ruin the moment. Just understand that we will be staying here for a while. Just until we can figure things out” 

“Bucky...I dont know” 

“of course you do. You did a really shitty thing to me and we are here to make sure that wont happen again. You promise to be good for me, right?”

There wasn't any indication that he was lying so you decided to trust him. “Right” you answered, even though your gut told you otherwise.

[piratesfromspace]

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw.  Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are. 

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

[jaehyunnie77]

hey babess i love your writing! can i request a jaehyun x ceo! y/n fic? (fluff + smut) something along the lines of jaehyun being the only one who can turn boss babe y/n soft & submissive?

Pairing: assistant!jaehyun x female!ceo

Genre: smut and tiny fluff

Warnings: mentions of masturbation, sexual tension, office sex, fingering, oral (male recieving), dom jaehyun, sub reader, protected sex

Word Count: 2.2k

a/n: hi love! thank you so much for the request. it makes me so happy to hear you love my writing <3. I had fun writing this one. I'm so sorry this took forever, but I do hope you like it. Also, Lemonade and Sticker Jaehyun did something to me so I got carried away a bit lol. enjoy

—

Knock knock.

"Come in!" you yell keeping your eyes on the computer screen. You really don't understand why people use Urgent as the subject line when it wasn't really urgent at all. The door to your office opens and the woody cologne of your assistant hits your nose. It takes everything in you to continue reading the email.

"Miss Y/LN, you have a five o'clock meeting today with design department." Jeong Jaehyun looks at his tablet in his hand to make sure there wasn't anything else he was missing. Last time you missed an important conference call all because he wasn't paying close attention to your schedule.

"Fuck." you say under your breath. You completely forgot about the meeting and honestly, didn't want to go. You stop reading and rub your temples. You look up just in time at your assistant and you both lock eyes. There is no denying there is heavy sexual tension between you both. Everyone in the office, hell, everyone in the entire building can sense the chemistry between you and your assistant.

You won't admit it to anyone, but the way he talks to you in his soft voice, makes your ovaries go in overdrive. The way his hand would slightly touch yours when handing you papers, gave you goosebumps. From your desk you have a perfect view of him, you can't help but look at him and daydream. When you two would talk about something outside of work, you can't help but smile and laugh with him. You wouldn't say you were whip for him, he was just a good eye candy to have around during stressful times.

Okay, you may have thought about him and his fingers a couple of times whenever you masturbated, but no one needed to know that.

However, you would never act on those fantasies because you are the CEO of a multimillion-fashion company. You can't afford to be distracted.

"Cancel and move it to another date and time next week. I have all of these paperwork I need to sort through." you say.

Jaehyun nods his head as his hand starts tapping away on his tablet. "Done. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No that is all. You may leave for the day."

Jaehyun gives you another nod and walks out of your office. You stare at his back and thirst over his figure. You wish you could run your hands all over his broad shoulders, hug around his waist, and your hands running through his gel back hair.

Jeong Jaehyun has been your assistant for the last four months and surprisingly, he is the only one who stayed the longest. All of your other assistants were either fired or quit because of how demanding you are. You were prepared to find another assistant when Jaehyun quit, but he could handle your sharp tongue and ranging mood swings.

In the end, it works out for you because you get to see his muscles flex and his dimples almost every day of the week. You get to boss him around whenever you like just to see if he would break one day. Strangely enough, he is the only one who makes you feel this way, both horny and soft for him.

If you could, you would fuck him on your desk and have your way with him. You would edge and overstimulate him over and over again, if only your reputation wasn't on the line. Your pussy clench around nothing with just the thought of Jaehyun under you. Before your imagination could run any more wilder, you get back to work.

The following day, you were overwhelmed with the stacks of paper work that sat on your desk. Jaehyun has been helping you sort through most of it the entire day and by the time you look at your clock, it was well past eleven o'clock. You sigh as you glance over at Jaehyun who looks just as tired as you.

"Jaehyun that should be it for today. We can sort through the rest on Monday." you collect the papers in front of you and put them in your file cabinet. "You should go home to your girlfriend or whoever is waiting for you at home." you mentally slap yourself for even saying that aloud.

Jaehyun sees your flustered state and grins as he puts the stack of papers on one side of his desk. "It's fine and for your information, I don't have anyone waiting for me."

You try your hardest to breathe and tighten your cross legs. It was his voice and the way he said it that sent shivers down your spine. His sexy sulky voice that you've heard once and made your pussy clench. Oh how you want to fulfill your fantasies right now.

"Miss Y/LN?"

"Yes Jaehyun?"

You didn't notice Jaehyun getting up from his chair and walking towards you.

"Y/N."

You finally look up surprise to see him leaning against your desk right beside you. He has a cocky smile and even from this angle, he looks like a hot Thor, but hotter.

You gulp as you regain your composure, "What is it Jaehyun?"

Jaehyun leans down, his face comes closer to yours, and you don't dare back away. When his face was inches from yours, you whisper, "This is unprofessional."

He gazes into your eyes, still smirking, "Was it unprofessional all the times we've been eye fucking from across the room?"

You sigh as you gave in and close the gap connecting your lips. It was cold a minute ago, but now it was hot. Hot and sexy. He grabs your neck to keep you in place as you get up from your chair and your hands finding their way to his neck. Both of your hands wander all over each other, until you start to unbutton his white shirt and he unzips your dress.

The height difference is making you weak, but you want to show him you're the boss and dominate him. Jaehyun notices what you're doing and you feel him smile in your heated make out session.

"Still trying to be the boss Y/N?"

"I am the boss Jaehyun." You finally get rid of his shirt and damn, does this man work out. You stop to admire his hardened abs, while Jaehyun finally takes off your dress, admiring you in just your bra and panties. You both take each other in.

To be clear, this has never happened before to you. You were always the one to set the pace, to show your partners for the night you were in charge, but this was different. Jaehyun was different. He was captivating and you wanted him to destroy you now that you've seen what it's like to be kissed and touched by him.

He leaves kisses on your jaw, your neck, to your chest and as he senses the sudden change in attitude, he growls. He captures your lips once more as he picks you up to sit you on your desk. He pushes everything on top of your desk away onto the floor and lays you down. He continues his kiss attack by leaving purple bruises all over your chest, boobs, and stomach. When he finally reaches where you need him the most, he teases you over your panties.

"Jaehyun." you whine.

"Yes baby." Even the nickname is driving you crazy.

"Stop teasing."

"If you say so." Jaehyun pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger between your folds.

"You're dripping wet. All for me?"

Without an answer or a warning, he pushes in a finger, then a second. The stretch makes your back arch as he pumps his digits into you. He curls his fingers and set a rapid pace as your walls pulsate around his fingers making you see the stars. Before you could reach your orgasm, he stops and takes them out.

"Jaehyun!"

"No. Be a good girl and don't come until I tell you to."

"I would do no such -"

He reinserts his fingers pumping into you again and when you clench, he stops again. He loves to see your expression when you were right on the edge and can see the frustration take over.

"J-"

"I said, be a good girl and come when I tell you to. If not, you won't come and we'll do this all night if we have to."

Fuck was he hot.

You whimper as you slowly nod to his command.

"Good girl. Now get on your knees."

You sit back up and get down on your knees anticipating for what's to come. Just as you were about to unzip his pants, he stops you with his hand on your wrist. "Don't. Hand behind your back." Once again, you did as you were told as you watch Jaehyun slowly unzip his pants and bring down his boxers. His long hard cock standing proud almost hitting your face. Precum visible as it leaks from his tip. You unconsciously lick your lips wanting nothing more than to have him in your mouth.

"Suck."

With your hands still behind your back, you inch forward and put him in your mouth. Jaehyun groans at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. You bob and twist your head as you slurp on his dick. Saliva mix with his precum are coming out of the corner of your mouth. You pull off him to catch your breath but Jaehyun wasn't having it. He grabs the back of your head, pushes his cock into your mouth, and fucks your mouth. You feel him hit the back of your throat and gag around him.

Jaehyun hisses when you moan and gag around him, "You're fucking sexy."

When he feels himself almost coming, he pulls you off, helps you up from the ground, and bend you over the desk. "Spread your legs."

You do as you he says and spread your legs best as you can. He grabs a condom from his wallet and rolls it on, pumping himself a few times before finally entering you. You let out a loud moan when his girth stretches you out perfectly. You feel so full.

Jaehyun doesn't wait for you to get use to him as he starts to pound into you. The way his hips thrusts into you has you moving up on your desk. You try to grab onto anything, but Jaehyun kept your hands behind your back still. Your head laid to the side and Jaehyun has the perfect view of your fucked out face.

He leans down next to your ears, "Do you think you could boss me around as a lost boy?" he thrusts harder.

"J-Jaehyun, ahh!"

"Do you think you could make me your bitch boy and tell everyone to reschedule your meetings every day?"

"Fuck!"

"Ah, do you think you could tease me every day when you wear those short dresses and skirts, bend over in front of me, and don't expect me to get hard?"

"Fuck fuck fuck!"

"What would everyone say when the CEO is getting fucked by her assistant?"

"Th-they w-won't b-believe y-you."

He growls in your ear, "Even when I'm balls deep in you, you still want to be the boss."

He pounds into your harder and faster making you see the stars, "Please Jaehyun."

"Who's the boss Y/N?" Jaehyun pulls your hair bringing you up to his chest. The new position as him hitting in deeper as you continue seeing the stars as tears fall out of your eyes.

"Jaehyun! You are! Oh my fucking God! Please don't stop, don't stop."

"You like that? You like getting your hair pulled?"

"Fuck yes! Only for you. Please let me come."

He was getting close too, "Come on my dick baby." You didn't need to be told twice as you let go and cum on his cock and soon enough he also reach his climax.

His hold on your hair loosens up as you fall forward on your desk with him falling on top of you, both of you worn out. He kisses your glistening shoulders as you feel him go soft inside of you. He pulls out throwing the condom away and helps you get dress.

Standing there with clothes back on and hair slightly messy, you suddenly feel shy. Jaehyun caresses your cheek as you shyly look up at him, a warm smile on his face with those beautiful dimples showing.

"Hi." he whispers.

"Hi." you feel yourself get butterflies in your stomach.

"I know this is reverse, but do you want to get dinner tomorrow?"

You study his face for any remorse or seriousness, but all you found is adoring eyes staring back at you.

"I'd love that, but," you pause. Jaehyun's expression falls.

"But?"

"But I'm still your boss and," you wrap your arms around his neck while his found your waist, "you're fired."

You smile up at him, feeling the rumble of his laughter. "That is fine by me as long as I have you by my side." He kisses your lips and you kiss back.

"About time honestly." you joke as you detached yourself to get your purse.

Jaehyun smiles at you, "Well if you weren't so busy bossing me around and playing this cat and mouse game -"

You lightly smack his chest laughing and you both walk out of your office interlocking your hands.

[fuck-customers]

few small things this week that make me wanna strangle people:

EVERY time the truck has come this week, we've had to throw away several hundred dollars worth of product because they aren't putting things away. its takes 5 minutes to move our walk in around to put stuff inside it. we've also gotten so many damaged products that we think they're doing it on purpose now. commissary isn't even responding to the emails we're sending them about credits or just general complaints. thanks 👍🏻

the oven hood died over the weekend and no one was able to come out until monday to fix it. 75 in a restaurant doesn't sound hot but MY GOD we all left every night covered in sweat bc it was so bad

finally, shout out to these specific customers

1) the guy that shoved his whole finger up his nose as he was paying, got his nasty boogers over the card reader and then proceeded to leave his nasty tissue under another card reader. who the fuck raised you to think this is okay?

2) the lady who came in and screamed at us because there was myself and my manager in the store. we couldn't answer phones bc of how busy we were. are you blind to the fact there's a full screen and only 2 people in the store?

3) finally, the guy who yelled at me because he didn't get his free pizza. we're running a "bullshit company" because i stopped the car side reader 9 seconds before he got his free pizza. "it took more than 9 seconds for you to give me my pizza. i want my free pizza" fuck you no? call corporate for all i care, i don't get paid enough to deal with your bs

in good news, ya boi got employee of the month 🤌🏻🤌🏻 when you find the right management, loyalty does go a long way my friends

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[theunholygrails]

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 

He was just that damn good. 

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest. 

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.” 

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

inventory, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You’re missing a piece of inventory from your erotica shop. Surprisingly, you find it in the same day. It’s around your boyfriend’s neck, who also happens to be your sub. Hm, well, you have to act accordingly, don’t you?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; non-idol!AU; dom/sub dynamic; feels and there’s a decent bit of buildup; smut (mirror kink, spitting, cock ring usage, cock-slapping, scratching, spanking, vibrator use, overstimulation, edging, m-masturbation, cum eating, f-receiving oral); fluff; noona dom!reader x sub!Jungkook

technically part iv of ‘customer service’ series, but can be read alone

–

customer service part i | part ii | part iii

-

Jeon Jungkook was a problem.

Technically, your problem.

You tapped your pen against your recordkeeping book. No one was in the store. It was the middle of the week. Not usually the time to get freaky. People got freaky on the weekends. You usually spent these times doing the boring stuff. Setting up the deliveries for the rich customers that purchased clothing from you. Cleaning the store from top to bottom and finding some interesting fluids in interesting places. Typical. Answering emails, accounting, taking inventory. You were missing one piece of inventory, but those things always turned up eventually. You weren’t worried.

Eh, wasn’t a big problem.

Your big problem was Jeon Jungkook.

He wanted to be exclusive. Okay. He wanted it to be a relationship. Slightly less in your comfort zone, but you were willing to give it a shot. Unfortunately, Jungkook also wanted one more thing.

He wanted you to lose you temper at him.

Now, there were several things you, personally, did not do anymore. And number one on the list was losing your temper. You did not want to be in power and actively angry at the person you were fucking at the same time. It was dangerous. It was irresponsible. You’ve gone too far before and hurt your sub. You weren’t going to repeat it.

Not with Jungkook, no matter how much he tried to rile you up.

And he tried. Disobeyed you outright. Talked back. Taunted you. It took a lot of your skill and redirection to focus his attention elsewhere and not at his ultimate goal of pissing you off so much that you used sex as a weapon, because quite frankly, that was a fucked-up thing to do and you were not going to do it. You would rather leave than become that.

You told him this. You told him that he should not try to provoke you, especially not this early in the relationship. His body couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t handle it mentally, and you didn’t want to end up emotionally and sexually abusing him, even if it was an accident. Because it was your responsibility to not do that and you took that shit very seriously.

Jungkook had agreed reluctantly and he still tried.

Sigh.

You rubbed your forehead. If he was an experienced sub, then maybe you could be less strict. But he wasn’t. And yeah, maybe you were a little scared. Because your last relationship had ended very, very badly, because you had gone too far and your sub had been too scared to use the safe word even when it was too much and that really, really fucked you up. You regretted it, even after all this time, even after all the apologizing, even after your sub had forgiven you, multiple times.

You had never forgiven yourself for it.

The whole relationship had fallen apart because of that one time.

After that, you didn’t really date. All you did was have one-night stands with subs you already knew. It was easy having sex with no strings attached. Now you were dating Jungkook. Yeah, that. The dating bit. It was messing you up. It was making you overly cautious. You didn’t want to repeat your mistakes.

You let out a tense exhale.

You didn’t tell Jungkook about this, mostly because you didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want to admit your sub had been too scared of you to use their safe word. You were ashamed. Scared of yourself and what you were capable of.

Sometimes, when you thought about it, you wondered if you should stop. Give up on the dom/sub thing and have vanilla sex instead with some nice guy who had a normal job and raise some babies and fucking chill out. Seemed nice. Life wasn’t about needing a power complex when being intimate after all. You could have a perfectly satisfying sex life with two people in equal power. Could even still be kinky without the whole ‘I’m the authority and you have to listen to me’ thing.

Yeah, well. Before you could commit to that, Jeon Jungkook decided to fucking seduce you in your own damn sex shop.

You placed your hands on your head and let out a big sigh.

Damn you, Jungkook.

-

You found your missing piece of inventory.

It was around Jeon Jungkook’s neck when he opened his apartment door for you.

Your face was completely neutral, one hand in the pocket of your black trench coat. The other holding your black leather briefcase. Underneath the coat, you wore a simple floor-length black skirt. Black heels. Nothing but your face and hands uncovered. In one second, you took in every detail upon seeing Jungkook.

One, his long black hair was tied back, his bangs framing his large brown eyes. Two, he was wearing a little bit of makeup. Slight amount of eyeshadow and liner, lip balm to make his lips pinker. Three, he was wearing a very low V-necked black t-shirt that was quite obviously meant to show off his shapely collarbones and sculpted pecs. The ink-black tattoos in his right arm stood out against his tan skin. Fourth, he was wearing leather pants – not the ones you made him, that would be indecent exposure showing up to the door like that – but, still, black tight faux leather trousers that he half-tucked his shirt in so his crotch was visible.

And.

Fifth.

He was wearing a black leather collar around his neck, one with a large silver ring hanging down at the center. It had silver studs with in the shape of a diamond pattern punched into the leather. It closed in the back with a silver buckle.

How did you know this?

It was your missing piece of inventory, of course.

You clicked your tongue.

“Oh! Noona,” Jungkook said nervously, biting his lip.

You little shit, don’t you ‘oh, noona’ me. You almost turned around and left. Almost. Irritation was putting it mildly. You were pissed. He had stolen from your shop. Became an actual fucking thief to get a rise out of you. You two weren’t going out on a date. It was already late, so both of you had intended on having a nice night in. He’d dressed up for it, as one does. Made himself pretty for you to ruin. Jungkook knew what he wanted. And he wasn’t being subtle about it, wearing the stolen inventory right in front of your face the second he opened the door.

He wanted you mad and he wanted you mad from the start.

You did not look at the collar. Instead, you stared into his eyes, furious internally, but completely placid on the outside. His brown orbs were observing you in anticipation. He wanted it. Bad. You had refused to let him cum last time because he had talked back to you. That was a week ago. You wondered if he had jacked off or not. You put no such restrictions on him even though he asked you to. You were curious on how far Jungkook was willing to go, so you let him choose.

And, clearly, Jungkook choose death.

Just kidding. But he was really testing you here. And so, you made up your mind.

You waited, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook flushed and backed up, holding the door with two hands.

“C-Come in.”

You stepped inside, heels clicking on the hardwood. Jungkook closed the door behind you. The large, floor-length mirror was in the living room again. The incident in the fitting room must have really had an impact on him. Maybe he was developing a mirror kink because of it.

You felt Jungkook slide up next to you, his breath against your ear. Shallow, needy, already horny. You weren’t surprised. Nobody dresses like that and doesn’t want to be fucked.

“N-noona…” He was making his voice desperate and breathy, already submissive for you. “I really missed you.”

“That’s lovely to hear.”

You kept your tone light, no pet names, stepping out of your heels and walking towards the couch. Jungkook followed you like a shadow, still chewing on his lip, messing up his own hard work of making himself pretty for you. You placed your briefcase on the coffee table. He hovered as you undid your trench coat slowly, pulling open the tie and unbuttoning it deftly, fingers dancing on the placket.

“I can help you?” Jungkook offered, holding his hands out.

Your eyes gradually lifted, locking your gaze with his. You saw him visibly shiver in excitement.

“No need.”

You saw Jungkook pout as you slipped out of the coat, one arm, then the other, revealing the white dress shirt that was neatly tucked into your black skirt. It had pleated detailing down the front and silver collar pins, completed by the silver cuff links you used to close the sleeves. You folded the coat elegantly and laid it over the back of his couch.

“Are you mad, noona?”

You want me to be mad. Thankfully, at this point you had calmed a little. Yes, Jungkook was an idiot for doing such a thing, but he wasn’t doing it because he was trying to hurt you or actually steal from you. Maybe it was something he’d seen or read in porn. Maybe it was something his brain devised because he felt some weird need to prove to you that he was a good and obedient sub, because he knew you had previous partners and he wanted to outdo them or something. Maybe he wanted to see how much of a dom you really were.

And, most likely, it was all of those things.

“Jungkook.”

This time, you said his name with a sharper tone.

“Y… yes?”

You turned your right hand upwards, entirely aware of the placement of your fingers. Pinky, ring, middle curled inwards. Index up, thumb out. Poised, elegant, almost haughty. You flicked your cuff link, straightening the backing to slip it out. It was a diamond-shaped accessory, completely unnecessary for everyday life and completely necessary to force Jungkook to wait on you one more second. One more heart-stopping moment.

You glanced at his crotch. Hm. Interesting. Then you blinked and your eyes were on his. Hair hanging around his cheekbones, pupils dilating, swollen lips parted as he let out light pants of desire. He was slowly but surely losing it.

Maybe it was because his erection was suffocating in his leather pants.

You twirled your cuff link in your fingers. Jungkook watched the action, entranced by the dexterity of your digits. You knew what he wanted. He’d been texting you all day, trying to work you up. You had made him wait. Just like how you were making him wait now.

“What is your safe word?”

That was the question you used to start off the scene.

Instantly, you saw the relief, the hunger, the absolute need to serve flood his dark brown eyes. Now you were the dom. Now he was the sub.

“Euphoria,” Jungkook nearly moaned.

You nodded slowly, placing the cuff link on his coffee table. You upturned your other wrist, removing the other with a swift flick. You heard him whimper at the quick action. You almost smiled. He really wanted it. Ah, but you are a bad, bad boy, Jungkook. The metal clinked as it touched the walnut wood of the tabletop.

And there are consequences for being a bad, bad boy.

Your gaze connected with his once again. His eyes were practically begging for instruction.

“You look like you want to ask me something,” you drawled. His teeth sunk into his lower lip once more, the tiny mole underneath winking at you. “Go ahead.”

His eyes flitted about, trying to search for the trap. He swallowed, straining against the collar.

“Do… do you notice anything different about me?” Jungkook asked hesitantly, taking a step towards you.

You didn’t move from your position, observing him closely. His hands by his sides were antsy, itching to touch you or be caged with rope. You hooked your thumb at the base of your cuff and rolled it down. Once. Twice. Three times.

“You’re wearing makeup for me,” you replied, letting a small smile drift to your lips.

“A-ah…” He blushed. “Is it… is it too unmanly?”

Who the fuck put these ideas in Jeon Jungkook’s head? You just wanted to talk to them. And by talk, you meant flog the living daylights out of them. You had a big one at home. It could be arranged.

“No, of course not. You look very handsome.” Pause. “And fuckable.”

No reason not to tell the truth.

Jungkook’s cheeks flushed a dark pink. “T-Thank you, noona.”

During the entire conversation, you had folded the sleeves of your dress shirt up to your elbows. The stiff, crisp fabric held, and suddenly you were imposing, sleeves rolled up, black skirt skimming the hardwood floor. The neutral façade you had upheld for so long dropped away. Jungkook noticed the change instantly, even though you hadn’t actually said anything yet. His eyes widened a little, shoulders tensing.

Your eyes flashed, chin lifting.

“Or is that not what you meant, pretty boy?”

You did not hide the irritation in your voice this time. His breathing hitched, the muscles his arms ripped and Jungkook very, very much wanted to be punished.

“Um…” He fiddled with his hands guiltily, eyes skirting about. “It’s not what I was referring to, no…”

“Look at me.”

He snapped his head up, gulping. So obvious. His neck strained against the leather. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What were you referring to?” you questioned icily.

Jungkook was shaking all over. He lifted his hand slowly, reaching up to his neck, hooking two fingers around the metal ring of the collar. He tightened them, tugging down a little, eyelashes fluttering, a tiny moan rumbling in his throat. You were going insane on the inside. Fuck, did he know how submissive he was? Did he know how his small, cute little actions made him look so fucking appetizing?

“T-This.”

“Ah, yes,” you finally acknowledged. You waved a hand and he removed his, biting his lip again. “I did notice that. A nice touch. Is it for me?”

He nodded quickly. He seemed to forget for a second that he stole it from you. “Yes, noona, it’s for you.”

You sighed. Jungkook’s expression changed, becoming slightly confused.

“Pause.”

The indication that there was an intermission in the scene. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You are testing me, Jungkook, and I do not like it.”

Jungkook’s brows knitted together, looking down. “I’m sorry, noona.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t try to make me angry on purpose.”

He closed the distance between you two, placing his hands on your elbows. His brown orbs anxiously found yours. “I… I just… please…” His fingers pressed into your skin, his breathing deepening. “I want to see how far I can go. How far you can take me. You won’t…” Jungkook shook his head, hair flying everywhere, ponytail bouncing. “You’re holding back, but I can take it, noona, I promise. I promise I can.” His fingertips caressed you, determination in his eyes.

Hm. Jungkook could tell. You breathed in deeply, inhaling his clean scent.

You are aware of your mistakes. You have learned.

You pursed your lips.

I really, really do not want to hurt you, Jungkook.

“You must promise me.” You looked deep into his eyes. “You must promise me, that if it is too much, if you cannot handle it, if it is not something you want, you must use your safe word.”

He nodded quickly. “I promise.”

And then you crumpled a little bit, your strict demeanor falling, the fears rising, the vulnerability making your voice quiver as you unfurled your arms and grabbed his t-shirt, shaking him roughly.

“No, Jungkook,” you pleaded. “You must promise me.” And you couldn’t explain, couldn’t bring yourself to say why, but he could tell how serious you were because you were suddenly weak, suddenly the parts of yourself that you kept under wraps revealed themselves, the parts you were ashamed of appearing, and you were letting him witness it. Because he said he wanted you. Not just dom you, but you.

And this, well, this was you too.

Jungkook’s eyes softened and he smiled. He leaned in and kissed you, long, sweet, delicate. It was like time stopped. As if the world froze and there was nothing but Jungkook’s lips on yours, reassuring and comforting. He drew back and opened his eyes slowly, warmth in his chocolate orbs.

“I promise.”

You looked up at him, stunned. He grinned at you, showing off his teeth, a little cheeky and embarrassed all at once. You removed your hands from his shirt, lowering them gradually.

“Sorry, I…”

Jungkook’s hands dropped and held yours tightly. He shook his head.

“No, noona. I understand. I know you are looking out for me,” he said brightly. “Because I’m always trying to get into trouble.”

A muscle in your eye twitched. At least he admitted it.

His teeth caught his lip, still smiling. Less nervous now, more playful.

You removed your hands from his. Okay. Okay, fine. Jungkook wanted you to be the dom. Not a dom, the dom. You let out a breath, controlled, clean. Step back into your role. You are in control. You can do this.

“What is your safe word?”

You cracked your neck, a sharp pop that made Jungkook jump.

“Euphoria,” he replied automatically.

“Very good.”

A beat passed. Jungkook remained close to you, unsure what was going to happen. His eyes wide and flighty, chin trembling, hands in front of his chest. You lowered yours, placing them behind your back. Piercing gaze on him, taking a step. His eyes followed you as you slowly circled him, speaking carefully and deliberately.

“So, Jungkook, tell me,” you began, skirt grazing the floor as your glided around him. “What makes you think you’re wearing the collar for me?”

Jungkook’s head whipped around quickly, following your movement with darting eyes. Damn, his ass looked great in these leather pants. He looked unconfident, brows furrowing, trying to conjure the right answer to get what he wanted.

“Um… I thought… maybe you might like it…” He stumbled through his words. “B-Because you like controlling me…”

You smiled at him. Jungkook brightened.

“I do.”

The eagerness beamed off his face as you stopped in front of him, still smiling pleasantly.

“I love controlling you.”

Then the smile dropped. The air around you became ten degrees colder with your shift in demeanor. Jungkook barely had a half-second to realize the change before your hand shot out and gripped the silver ring, yanking down harshly. He yelped, arms flying out, falling to his knees hard, gripping your skirt for balance. Your other arm was still behind you, folded into the small of your back. You narrowed your eyes, holding the collar ring so tightly that your knuckles were white.

His eyes flew up, pain and surprise.

You ticked your head. “But clearly, I’ve done a poor job, because you’ve gone and stole from me, you bad boy.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, scooting himself forward, clutching your skirt tightly. “N-No, please, noona, I only–”

You yanked the ring up and Jungkook gasped, words cut off from the sudden jerk of his head snapping back. “You only what? Pickpocketed? Broke the law? Took my hard-earned money from right under my nose, to hurt me?”

“No, no, never,” Jungkook whimpered, looking up at you, blinking rapidly. “I don’t want to hurt you, noona. Never.”

“Then explain yourself,” you barked severely.

His eyes were turning teary, pleading. “I only… I only wanted to borrow it. So you could punish me and so I could show you I could be a good boy and take what I deserve.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your other punishments weren’t enough?”

Jungkook’s lower lip quivered. The shame of his true intent was creeping in his eyes now.

“I… I wanted to see you angry, noona.”

“Even after I told you that you shouldn’t?”

He nodded, scurrying himself even closer on his now, most likely, bruised knees. Eyes on you, holding onto your skirt, whole body trembling. He angled his hips forward, showing you how hard he was in his pants, straining it even more by pressing his erection into the zipper of the leather. His lips open, black curls hanging around his face, almost pathetic but not quite, because you knew Jungkook was acutely aware of exactly what he looked like. Doing it to entice you, doing it to assure you that he wanted it.

“Y-Yes,” he admitted.

You forcefully let go of the ring, flinging him away from you. Jungkook squeaked, releasing your clothes as his body twisted to the side from your sharp movement. You swept your skirts away and took a step back.

“Noona, w-wait!”

Jungkook tried to scramble to his feet, but you snarled deep in your chest, making him freeze.

“Crawl.”

He looked startled, looking at you with wide puppy eyes. You took another step back. Jungkook followed you, on hands and knees, his bangs flared out, the low neckline of his shirt hanging down, revealing his chest. You could see his back muscles rippling under the fabric. Fuck, he was so handsome. You weren’t heading for the front door. You watched his mind calculate the angle of your body, mood lightening as he realized that was the direction of the bedroom. You, however, stopped at the floor-length mirror in the living room. Pointed to the patch of floor at your feet.

“Here. Now.”

Jungkook immediately complied, getting on his knees in front of you, hands between his legs, keen to please, facing you.

“Other way,” you clarified, sounding disappointed.

He lowered his head at his mistake and spun around, now facing his reflection. You glared through the mirror, making eye contact. He looked very sorry and very dejected. You almost forgave him just like that. Maybe Jungkook didn’t like this. Maybe you were being too harsh.

“Do you want to use your safe word?”

His eyes on yours. He shook his head lightly, not breaking your gaze.

“No, noona.” Your heart thudded in your chest at his tone of voice. “I’ve been a very bad boy.”

Jungkook licked his lips slowly, not looking away, the tip of his pink tongue lingering before sliding back into his mouth. He kept the same look in his eyes, but his actions were giving you the go ahead.

Shit.

You raised an eyebrow and lowered your hands. They floated above his shoulders and you were reminded of the first time, in the fitting room of your erotica shop, the moment he seduced you and pulled you into his pace. Jungkook tipped his head back, long hair sliding to his ears, the reflection of the stolen collar taunting you.

This brat.

Slowly, finger by finger, you placed your hands on his face. Fingertips pressing into his jaw, cheek, temple, into his soft skin, nails slightly digging in. Scratching up his pretty face a little, claiming it as yours. Jungkook had perfect bone structure, high cheekbones, sharp jaw, pretty forehead. He was panting, mouth open, hot breath drifting down. Hands on his thighs, clutching them tight.

You bent down, chin above his head so he could feel your hot breath on his scalp.

“My pretty boy,” you murmured softly. “Why must you be so bad? Do I not treat you well enough? Do I not give you what you love?”

“You do,” Jungkook whined in your hands, the guilt creeping into his voice. “You do, noona. Your pretty boy is… g-greedy.” He rolled his hips a little, spreading his thighs more, staring at his own reflection of his low-necked shirt and his thighs open, cock bulging in his leather pants.

Your fingers slipped down, down, tracing the leather collar. You let your index finger circle around the metal, not yet touching his chest, so close but so far. Jungkook kept trying to raise it into your touch.  Your other hand reached back and grabbed his ponytail, yanking his head back. He moaned right into your chin, too turned on to pretend he was hurt.

“I am going to my briefcase,” you stated, not looking at him under you and instead staring at his reflection, torso straining from how sharply you were forcing him to arch his back. “You are to remove your clothes. Whatever is left on you will remain for the rest of the night. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, noona.”

You abruptly let him go, striding to your briefcase swiftly, hearing a flurry of noise as Jungkook flung all of his clothes off. Snap, open, grab. You had already packed a black velvet bag holding the things you intended to use on him tonight. You spun around to see him practically ripping his leather pants off, the panic and regret evident on his face as he tried to shove them down his muscular calves. Smart boy had removed his underwear with his pants, smearing trails of pre-cum down his legs and onto the floor. You waited half a second for Jungkook to pop them over his ankles and he threw the pants to the far wall, so hard they made a loud slapping noise. Jungkook was on his hands and knees, panting, beads of sweat on his forehead.

It was actually hilarious to watch, but now was not the time to laugh.

Jungkook snapped his head towards you, eyes wide, his hard cock smacking his thigh. You raised an eyebrow at him. He gulped. Wearing nothing but the collar. Oh, he looked so good. You could tell him to get into position.

Or.

Tease him.

“Want to put my mouth on you, handsome boy.”

His cock twitched as his jaw dropped.

Your tongue slid out and stayed at the side of your lips as you spoke. “You look so tasty for me. When was the last time you came, Jungkook?”

His hands curled into fists on the hardwood floor, legs falling open, cock throbbing. The veins stood out against the hardness, head swollen and red.

“F-Fifteen days ago…” he whimpered.

He had denied himself. So cute. What a good boy. You smiled at him, still holding the velvet bag. “Really? You didn’t cum, not even once, without me?”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, hair flying everywhere. “Wa… wanted to be tasty for you.”

You pouted a little. “Hm, that’s half a month. You waited so long.”

Jungkook nodded, chewing on his lip. You gestured for him to adjust his position and he turned his body to fully face you.

“Eyes on the mirror.”

He turned his head to face his reflection. Hands on the floor next to his ass, slightly leaning back, legs open.

“Look away and I’ll walk away,” you warned.

“Y-yes, noona.”

You floated down to the floor. He couldn’t exactly see you, but you slid into the frame of the mirror, right between his legs. The velvet bag was out of his sight, next to his leg, but Jungkook wasn’t paying attention. He was staring at his stiff cock and your proximity to it, holding his breath. You collected your saliva on your tongue and opened your mouth. It dripped down in a thin, slim line, hitting the angry red head of his cock and causing it to jerk at the sudden impact, coating it.

“A-ah, s-so good…”

“What do we say?” you purred, collecting more.

“T-thank you, noona,” Jungkook moaned, watching as you dropped more onto his aching cock, splattering onto his crotch. You lowered your head, closer. Closer. Jungkook sucked in a breath, waiting, needing, trying not to move. You made eye contact with him in the mirror.

“You’re a bad boy, Jungkook.”

And then you spat on his balls.

His head tipped back as he groaned, eyes barely open as he watched himself, chest shuddering as he felt it trickle down and onto the floor below. You spat on his genitals again, more force this time, spraying it across his cock and stomach. He cried out, slamming one of his fists onto the hardwood.

“Y-yes, noona, I’m a bad boy.”

And then you produced a cock ring seemingly out of nowhere, eyebrow raised as he wailed loudly.

“N-no, please, please don’t,” Jungkook panicked as you brought the black silicone ring closer and closer to his now saliva-drenched cock. “Please, I promise to be a good boy, please don’t do it…”

You said nothing, simply placing it on the engorged head and using three fingers to hold it, pushing down slowly.

“Noona, a-ah… no…” His eyelids fluttered, eyes on the reflection of his thick cock being viciously squeezed into the silicone ring. He let out a choked sob as it popped over the bottom of the head, sliding down, down, all the way to the base. You barely touched him, removing your hand as Jungkook shuddered, his pulsating length now bound by the black band.

You raised your head. He was still, very obediently, staring at the mirror.

You smacked his cock with your palm.

Not hard, but enough to make it bounce and for Jungkook to squeal, hips rising as his dick shook from side to side, unable to move much from the tight cock ring. He was making it move more by rocking his hips, heightening the feeling of being bound.

You waited until it stopped swaying.

“Your neighbors will hear you, Jungkook,” you said calmly. You turned your head and looked into the mirror. His eyes locked on yours, pupils dilated, strands of hair clinging to his sweaty face. “Should I gag you?”

“N-no, noona,” he whispered hotly, breathing shallow and tight. “They have to know I’m being punished. B-Because I’ve been b-bad.”

Good gracious, Jungkook.

Your panties instantly soaked. Who was losing it here? Was it him or was it you? Fuck.

You slowly smacked his cock back and forth, back and forth, staring at his face in the mirror. His head tipped back, not closing his eyes, moaning wantonly as his stiff length was roughly shoved around, barely any pressure and too much at once because of how hard he was. You stopped, watching his cock bob, almost purple-red now. Pre-cum beaded at the tip.

You couldn’t help it.

You leaned down, tucking your hair behind your ear so he could see, and gave the slit a tiny kitten lick.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Jungkook lost control, eyes rolling back into his head, and you almost moaned, his strong, intense taste all over your tongue. He tasted so good. So fucking delicious. You pulled back, pretending not to notice that Jungkook had looked away from the mirror as he quickly collected himself, back to staring at his reflection. You grabbed his hips and dug your nails into his skin, dragging him so his body was tilted.

“Flip over,” you growled.

You backed up, taking the velvet pouch with you as Jungkook obeyed, on his hands and knees now.

“On your face.”

Jungkook whimpered, lowering his cheek to the cool floor, leaning against it. Now his ass was up in the air, vulnerable and exposed.

“Both hands on the ring.”

His teeth sank into his lower lip, scooting his hands so he held the silver collar ring with fingers on both hands, arms against the floor to hold him up. His cock stuck straight down, stiff and swollen, trapped in the silicone circle. You waited to let Jungkook readjust his knees to be more comfortable and so he could see everything. The muscles on his back tensed with anticipation.

“I didn’t cover your mouth for a reason.”

“Yes, noona,” Jungkook breathed.

You raised your hands and raked your nails over his back, all the way to his ass. Hard, deep, leaving lines of pink and red, almost breaking the skin. Jungkook moaned, tongue sliding out, body shaking, eyelids fluttering. You did it again, and again, creating your pattern of lust on his back.

“Mine,” you growled possessively. Your eyes locked with his.

Thump.

Had anyone ever looked at you with so much adoration before?

Jungkook nodded.

“All yours, noona.”

You slapped his ass with your open palm.

He yelped, shoulders hitting the floor, face sliding a little against the wood. Pupils dilating, whimpering for more. You smacked him again, and again, and again, never the same spot, always with the full palm, all over, causing large red handprints patterned all over his ass. Jungkook was a groaning mess, legs slipping, the head of his cock touching the hardwood.

You stopped.

His ass was bright red, covered in your slaps and scratches.

Jungkook opened his eyes. He seemed to realize he wasn’t looking at his reflection anymore. He panicked, seeing your glare in the mirror, and tried to raise his hips, but your hand stopped him. The tip of his cock was in contact the floor, dripping pre-cum.

You pressed his hips down a little and shifted them from side to side.

Even the little stimulation of the head against the hardwood made Jungkook moan, pleading with you as he desperately clutched the collar.

“Noona, p-please… Please let me c-cum…”

You removed your hand. Jungkook continued rubbing himself in his own puddle of pre-cum on his living room floor, as you predicted. You didn’t stop him. You reached into the velvet pouch again. Jungkook’s eyes had fluttered closed as he continued stimulating himself, probably not enough, but he didn’t seem to care. You pressed the thing in your hand onto his scrotum and turned it on.

“A-ah!”

Jungkook’s hips flew up, balls suddenly shaking violently from the bullet vibrator in your hand. He shut his legs, sticking his ass out into your hand as he gasped, pressing back into the vibrator as you lazily drifted it around his balls.

“Oh, fuck, noona, oh, fuck!”

He was still holding onto the collar somehow as he tried to get more, wiggling his hips, but you were faster, grabbing his ass with one hand and digging your nails into it.

“Stop.”

Jungkook froze, whimpering and panting on the hardwood, cheeks hollowed out, eyes glazed over.

You traced his asshole with the tip of the vibrator.

His eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out.

“Oh, please, noona, put it in me, p-please…”

You drew figure-eights around his asshole and his balls, calmly.

“I bet you would love that, but you’ve been a bad boy, so I don’t think so.”

Jungkook whined, shaking his head, dark curls fluttering, soaked with sweat.

“P-please, I’ll be good, I need it, I need you to do it, fuck, please.”

“No.”

You pressed the vibrator into the cock ring and Jungkook nearly screamed, cutting himself off by snapping his jaw shut and yelling into the floor, hips jerking in your hands. You kept it there for a good five seconds before you removed it and backed up, reaching into the velvet bag again. Jungkook had maybe one shaking inhale before you gripped him under his armpits, hoisting him up.

“Let go of the ring,” you commanded, and his hands dropped, helping you get him to his knees. His bruised knees. Still, he leaned against you, soaking your clothes with his sweat, spreading his legs out more so his body lowered and your head could be seen past his shoulder. 

You reached down and removed the cock ring, Jungkook gasping in relief. It rolled away, now forgotten.

“Get yourself off.”

“B-but, noona…”

Your hands appeared and pressed against his nipples, turning on both bullet vibrators at once.

“Get. Yourself. Off.”

“F-fuck!”

His hand immediately flew to his cock, viciously pumping himself as you rubbed his nipples with the toys, his groans rumbling in his chest with the vibrations, so strong, so intense, his tan skin glistening with sweat, arm tattoos dancing as he stroked himself fast, his cock so hard it was purple now, veins popping out.

And, like the masochist he was…

Jungkook grabbed the head and squeezed firmly, cutting off his own orgasm with a wail.

You responded just as fast, dropping your hands and shoving the vibrators against his balls, twice as much stimulation as before. His head fell back against your shoulder, half-moans, half-screams of your name as he bucked into them, working himself up once again, your breath against his neck, your eyes watching Jungkook’s reflection – his shaking legs, his balls cupped in your hands, his abused and overstimulated cock popping in and out of his tattooed hand, his now inflamed nipples, sweat dripping down his neck, long black hair flared out against your cheek, the mole under his lower lip trembling with his cries.

Fuck, he was everything. Everything you ever wanted.

“Ah, noona, yes, yes, you’re so good to me, so good…”

“Cum on the mirror,” you demanded. “Cum all over yourself, pretty boy.”

Jungkook whined, snapping his head back down, feeling you increase the vibration setting on his balls and that was it, the tipping point as he sobbed out your name, shooting all over the mirror in large splatters of white, jerking his hips so it traveled higher, sticking onto the reflective glass, all over his reflection.

And he watched it, moaning, so entranced by his likeness covered in his own cum, dripping down in slow smears, messy and dirty.

You turned off the vibrators, withdrew your hands from him.

“Lick it off.”

Jungkook was exhausted, wheezing, hoarse, and yet he still removed his hand from his cock, crawling to the mess he made, pink tongue flopping out, licking his own cum off the mirror, eating it up with groans of satisfaction. You watched him, fascinated, surprised he even listened to you, surprised he was still going, because honestly at this point, you really thought you had gone too far, but Jungkook was enthusiastically making out with his own face with his orgasm at your command, and loving every second of it.

“Jungkook.”

He pushed himself away from the mirror, immediately coming to you, his dark brown eyes hazy with pleasure. He dumped himself in your lap. You still wearing all your clothes. He looked up at you, lips curving into a naughty grin.

“I love it when you turn me into your plaything.”

This guy.

“What do you want?” Jungkook panted. “I’ll do anything. Anything for you.”

Oh, that’s right. You had spent so much focus and energy on Jungkook that you completely forgot about yourself. How did that happen? Ah, but you were so tired now. You let out a puff of disbelief and slid down to the floor.

“I want a nap. Get back to me tomorrow morning.”

-

You woke up slowly to something wet and hot between your legs.

Can I wake you up by eating you out tomorrow morning?

If you brush your teeth.

Really?!

If you brush your teeth, yes.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, breathing in Jungkook’s scent. His bed. His tongue against your opening, softly lapping, burying his nose into your core. You pursed your lips, sighing softly. The tip of the wet muscle slid up, licking at your clit. You pressed your hips into his face and the large hands around your thighs tightened, holding you closer.

He moaned, so hot, right into your pussy.

Your hands released the sheets, sliding across the fabric, up your hip, tracing his fingers. Eyes still closed, feeling for his long hair, clean, fluffy, wild from sleep. Burying your fingers in the strands, pressing him down into you.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

He licked faster, lips closing around your clit, pushing his head into you as he pressed your thighs into the sides of his face. You could feel his cheekbones, his jaw rubbing against your skin. Felt his wet warmth, rapidly rubbing your sensitive nub.

“That’s a good boy,” you purred and he whined, vibrating your pussy with the sound.

Your fingers tightened in his hair and you hissed, gliding into your orgasm, dripping into his mouth as your clit throbbed against his tongue, pleasure flooding you like a warm blanket.

You finally opened your eyes, breathing out as you saw Jungkook’s handsome face between your legs, cleaning you up. He kissed the insides of your thighs, nuzzling your skin. He seemed to feel you watching him and his eyes looked up, bright, doe-like, chocolatey. His pink lips glistened with your release.

“Noona?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I keep the collar?”

You raised an eyebrow. He smiled at you, playful, naughty.

“If you pay for it,” you replied, half-joking.

His tongue flashed out.

“I can pay in cash and in orgasms.”

You laughed as Jungkook dove down between your legs once again.

--

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