#(here being the us i like my workplace well enough as such things go)
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dreamerinsilico · 28 days ago
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my coworker, hacking and coughing, visibly unwell and also miserable:
me: um, should you be here?
coworker: I used my only sick day yesterday, I just started so I don't have any more
coworker: it's not covid though
me: YOU'RE STILL SICK and also not doing anything in the lab, go work from home or "work from home," FFS
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bluublu-blub · 4 months ago
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yan! ex husband (cont.)
Things got a little messy with my life within 5 days after I uploaded. I was almost disowned but things are better now. I was planning on uploading soon but I only got time now.
next
You barely remember when it started —when was the last time he sat down and spent time with you instead brushing you off in your rare times of rest. You do understand how time consuming his daily activities are. He was, after all, a professor by day and a medical student at night. So, you would smile at him and assure him that you always understand and you are fine with less date nights and hangouts. But, you were only asking a bare minimum from him —you just want some time where you both just sit in each other’s presence and let the silence be because it brought you comfort.
You just want to know that he is still there.
That, in some way or form, you still matter.
(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it is a right choice to get married as soon as you both finished your undergraduate degrees.)
(You brush the traitorous thoughts away from your mind.)
Just a little more. You can still wait.
Was it by a stroke of unfortunate circumstances, you wonder as you watched him grinned widely as he finished med school and immediately was recruited to some hospital while his words came from one ear to another. He seems so happy and less stressed as you try to keep up with him. 
“What do you think, love?”
What do you think? 
“What?”
“I asked if we can move closer to my workplace?” He repeated and you felt that once again your world froze. “It will be a different environment from here. The distance is a little over five hours in this place. Wouldn't it be more convenient?”
“Oh, yeah.” Convenient for him, sure. But, what about your career? “But, it will be far from mine.”
He brushed you off. “Well, you can always quit right?” Then he moved on to the next topic as if you agreed.
Oh.
Do you really matter to him at all?
You often heard from your friends that sometimes being together wouldn’t be enough if the relationship becomes stagnant and prison for your well-being. You had denied everything that is slowly ruining your relationship for years now, you let go of your convictions, passions, and dreams just for him. Let him shine and soar high while you are left scrambling in the ground. 
It was not like this before. 
Before, he listened. He was there before, there used to be a lot more love and smiles. 
Home was him before.
Home is not him now.
You stared at the documents in your hand, you had talked to your attorney about the procedures and now you need his signature.
“Love?” He’s back early for a change.
It’s time to end this godforsaken marriage and choose yourself for once.
“I need you to sign this.”
There is no going back to the past.
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kuromochimi · 9 months ago
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baby I’m nothing like your broke ex
gojo satoru, nanami kento
Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read
🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi
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Gojo Satoru
Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.
Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.
Nanami Kento
It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.
Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.
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fairyysoup · 9 months ago
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his hands
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pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.
cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men
a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore. 
“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?” 
The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with. 
The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.
You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.
“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”
Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.
“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”
“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.
“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.” 
“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?” 
You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.
“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”
“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”
“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.
“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”
“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.” 
You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”
“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind. 
You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.
It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open. 
Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.
You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.
You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.
After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it. 
“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter. 
You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?
Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.” 
You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look. 
“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”
You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.
Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens. 
“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”
“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies. 
Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”
“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.
“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”
“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again. 
“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”
“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible. 
“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”
You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”
Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”
“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.” 
“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?” 
“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit. 
“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.
You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.
He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.
After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.” 
You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head. 
“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.
“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance. 
“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”
“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat. 
Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors. 
“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.
“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”
His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror. 
Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it. 
Cocky bastard.  
“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.
Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?” 
“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”
“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”
A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places. 
“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation. 
Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”
“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”
“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”
“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.  
“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.
“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for. 
“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”
“Tell me where to sign.”
He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time. 
“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back. 
You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.
“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?” 
You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?” 
“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”
“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”
“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?” 
“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right. 
Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!
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By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.
You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.
False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.
You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.
You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.
“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”
You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”
What the fuck did you just say?
Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”
You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”
When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.
There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.
This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.
“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”
“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”
“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”
His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander. 
Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all. 
“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.
Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.
You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”
“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.” 
“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”
“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”
The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.
“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”
“No way.”
“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.” 
“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.
“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.” 
“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”
He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”
A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”
“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.” 
You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”
Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?” 
“Yeah, not too flashy.” 
“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.” 
“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”
Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.
Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.
You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.
“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.
You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up. 
When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.
Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”
Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–
Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”
“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.
Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–
“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you. 
You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven. 
You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room. 
“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.
“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.” 
“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck. 
“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh. 
“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.
He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.
Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?” 
Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.” 
“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.” 
He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”
Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.
When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.
Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you. 
“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat. 
His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more. 
There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”
He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”
You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.
Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather. 
“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.
“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already. 
“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”
You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.
“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.” 
“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same. 
“Good girl.” 
Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume. 
“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.
“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling. 
Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”
You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”
Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.” 
Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.
Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours. 
“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.” 
Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger. 
Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes. 
“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”
You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs. 
“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”
Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.
You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him. 
“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down. 
“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”
“Eddie, we’re naked.” 
“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”
“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it. 
“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”
2K notes · View notes
pastanest · 11 months ago
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: just a short lil blurb idea I had whilst procrastinating from finishing my other two WIP’s xoxo
warning: implied age gap of reader being a “young woman”, but no specific reference to Spencer’s age, I just envision this as a very post-prison thing for him to do
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Listen
“Excuse me, lady, but you don’t get to waltz in here and start ordering my officers around. This your first day on the job or something, sweetheart?” The local chief of police smirks down at you, condescension dripping from his every word.
That, coupled with his casual misogyny, is enough to have you smirking right back at him.
Shocker, another old-fashioned cop assuming that a young woman like you doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s almost laughable. Almost.
“FBI Agent first, ‘lady’ second, and ‘sweetheart’? Not under any circumstances. I’m here with the rest of my team to assist you on a case that you’ve requested our help to solve. You don’t like the way we do things? Raise a formal complaint. If you want this case solved, you’ll do well to listen to the advice given. This is far from my first case, and you are far from the first police chief to invalidate that.” Your voice is the epitome of cool, calm and collected.
Naturally, that only aggravates the ignorant man in front of you. More predictable than a- well, actually, there are few things more predictable than the fragile masculinity found in a man like this.
“I’ll be happy to listen to your boss before I take any orders from a girl with a mouth bigger than it ought to be.” The local chief of police eyes you up and down, as if to intimidate you by comparing your stature to his.
Much to his surprise - and absolute dismay - his efforts are in vain. This is made clear when a quiet laugh passes your lips and you lean back against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest and looking to your left.
Moments later, as though emerging from the shadows, Doctor Spencer Reid takes the few large strides necessary to reach your side. A formidable force, exacerbated by the dark scowl that’s etched into his features and directed at the local chief of police. Having not long returned from visiting a crime scene, he had overheard the conversation between you and elected to wait before he stepped in, hypothesizing both how far the ignorance would go, and how long he would be able to hear it before seeing red.
“If you value the continued use of your jaw, I’d advise you close it and listen. Disrespect Agent (Y/N) again and this entire precinct will suffer the consequences of your ignorance.” Spencer’s threat is eerily quiet and, while unprofessional by nature, the intent is understood to the extent that even a local chief of police wouldn’t dare call it into question.
The man caught in Spencer’s glare visibly shrinks, clears his throat, and pretends to find something to very quickly busy himself elsewhere. The glare follows him until he’s out of sight.
“I could have Garcia file a report severe enough to end that man’s career.” Spencer murmurs, gaze fixed on the door that the ignorance left through.
Turning to face Spencer, you smile up at him sweetly and pat his chest, your palm against his tie when the contact snaps his eyes back down to look at you.
“I think making him ruin his briefs in the workplace is punishment enough.” You joke lightly, your words enough to cause a smile to curl at the corner of Spencer’s mouth, a silent understanding caught in your locked gazes.
Nobody disrespects you and gets away with it, not so long as Doctor Spencer Reid is around to commit verbal homicide.
1K notes · View notes
joonsytip · 5 months ago
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Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 2
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Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au
Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?
Warnings: NSFW, virgin reader, cunnilingus, consensual and penetrative sex, couple uses protection (you do too), mentions of past accident, workplace politics allusions, mentions of getting stalked and periods.
Word Count: 6.1k
Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI!
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue
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It's been half an hour since your arrival to the party and the lack of interaction between you and Mingyu starts to raise some brows.
Mingyu stays rooted to the same place, his eyes fixated on you as he realises that it was wrong of him to totally wring you out and knowing your temperament he's not brave enough yet to place himself in the periphery of your vision.
"The marriage is really a sham, afterall."
Mingyu scoffs, not bothering to look at the source of the voice.
Kim Hanjun has been demoted under the obvious reason of underperforming and it's boiling his blood having to work under Mingyu because being a man with connections and boasting about it openly would have eventually come to bite him back given he's not even good at his job.
"Your wife isn't even interested in you it seems."
Fisting his hands, Mingyu decides to mute out his words.
"Oh so you're not gonna speak because you might accidentally spill something?"
But there's a limit to how much one can endure. Even though he has the patience of a saint, Mingyu just can't tolerate this obnoxious colleague of him.
Just as he opens his mouth to retort, he feels a hand circling his arm. It's you.
"You must be Kim Hanjun?", you say with a poker face, "You're quite the infamous one around here."
Both the men are caught off-guard by your presence.
"Now if you could excuse us.", your grip tightens on your husband, "I have some making up to do, as you can see husband's upset is at me for not spanning attention to him."
Hanjun is rendered speechless when you step forward and say in a dangerously low tone, "If I see you pestering my husband one more time, you might not find your company ID working while swiping."
The man is suddenly sweating and you cross over your arms with a smirk, "I usually don't interfere but sorry to break it to you, if we come down to this, I'd like you to always remember what position my uncle holds in the company. You're not the only one who can exert connections."
Mingyu looks at you in awe. He wants to record this on his phone so that he could watch this again and again. His wife is standing up for him and that's the absolute hottest you've looked.
Once Hanjun leaves, you also turn on your heels to do so but Mingyu doesn't let you.
"I'm tired.", you say turning to look at him, hand trying to scuffle out of his strong grip, "I'm leaving."
"We're leaving.", Mingyu says leading the way, hands still held together.
While it's a sight for others to finally see the couple, might be romantic to some as well by the way Mingyu is not letting go of you but you know the truth so does your husband.
The car ride back home is silent because halfway neither of you speak and for the rest of the path, you somehow fall asleep.
You wake up in Mingyu's arm as he carries you to the bedroom.
"Let me down.", you say tiredly.
But your husband only sets you down on the bed and once he does he starts spilling the apologies.
"I was mad at you and thought you won't come if I asked you.", he says lowering his gaze, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay.", you say not meeting his gaze either and fumbling your fingers, "You should tell me if any of my behaviour has hurt or is bothering you. I can't read minds, Mingyu."
There's a pang in his chest as guilt consumes him. His mind lingers back on how he had been ignoring you for the past few days. And now that he looks at you, he realises the chronic tiredness ghosting over your features.
"Now if you could please move so that I can get changed.", you say, hands gesturing the way out.
Mingyu swears he hasn't had a drop of alcohol present in his body at the moment so why is he all of a sudden, seeing and feeling things differently?
Why are you glowing in the poorly lit room? Since when did you have such deep beautiful pair of eyes? How are your lips looking so luscious?
Mingyu loosens the tie round his neck, clearing his throat. As he has been crouching, he stands up and sides himself so that you would get out of sight because somehow though it's chilly but by doing absolutely nothing you've managed to heat him up.
You walk upto the closet and after searching for a while you turn around to look at your husband.
"Can I wear something of yours?", you ask, leaning against the door, "I think all of my comfortable nightwears have ended up in the laundry."
The man chokes, he wonders if the stars are plotting against him tonight. He settles with a subtle nod, looking everywhere but at you.
You mumble a thanks and grab the first thing that looks comfortable, going into the bathroom to change.
Mingyu rushes out of the room grabbing a pair of clothes and proceeds to wash himself in the guest bathroom just to cool off. He watches his red tinted cheeks in the dazed vision in the mirror, notices his heavy breaths and eyes down to the semi grown tent in his pants.
Something's wrong with him. He can't comprehend his state. His mind lingers back to the moments when you were defending him against Hanjun. His heart beats erratically when he remembers the accidental view of your cleavage through the dress when he was carrying you inside. The slit of your dress wasn't helpful at all as he could see your trained thighs on display everytime you moved. And your long manicured nails, he's sure that they would look beautiful running through his nape and back.
Mingyu slaps himself twice on both the cheeks, he takes a cold shower.
But he's just a man afterall, so when sees you standing in front of the dressing table in his shirt and shorts he breath hitches and he gasps. Loud enough to catch your attention. As you look at him, he looks at your collarbones peaking out because his shirt is too loose on you.
And before you could say anything he's already laying on the bed hurriedly facing away, pulling over the covers to hide the re-emerging boner.
You follow his actions, laying beside him but facing his back. You wonder if you should sleep at the guestroom because your husband is still mad at you. And his actions are clearly saying so as the person who can't sleep without hugging is maintaining the distance, not bothering to even face you, like he has been doing for the past days.
With a heavy sigh, you tell him, "I'll sleep in the guestroom. We can talk when you feel like you can bear to look at me again."
Just as you turn on your back to get up, you're being held back and within a span of seconds your husband is hovering on top of you.
"I'm sorry, I can't control myself anymore."
And admitting that he crashes his lips onto yours. You gasp grabbing his arms before sighing into the kiss. Mingyu sucks onto your lips pacing them slower now. His hand roams up to rest on your neck, gently rubbing along the column, the sensation of his touch eliciting another gasp out of you.
His tongue enters your mouth and it's lewd in the way they slotting perfectly on each other. His mouth descends to press kisses on your chin and collarbones.
The one time he detaches his mouth off you to unbotton your (his) shirt, you're tapping on his forearm. His gaze follows your hands which are now covering your eyes.
There's a bit of silence. Mingyu wonders if he's forcing himself on you, without your consent and with the thought just as he prepares himself to get off, you say something that wracks his head.
"This will be my first time. I've never been touched before.", you say shakily, evidently embarassed enough to not uncover your eyes until Mingyu does so.
Though Mingyu has his mind too clouded to be pondering over anything but the first question he asks with those eyes now turned soft, after urging you to look at him is, "Do you want to do this? Is it okay for me to proceed? Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Please don't stop.", you breathe out immediately averting your gaze which causes you to miss the smile your husband directs at you before placing his hand under your head to raise it swiftly to kiss you.
"I'll make it worth, Y/N. I'll make you feel good.", he whispers in between the kisses.
You lay naked, all bared out under him as after spanning enough attention to your boobs, Mingyu shifts all his focus on your wet, leaking core.
"Gonna prep you first", he says in his husky voice, "and let me know if you want me to stop."
His tongue laps a long stripe against your cunt and you grip the sheet underneath desperately to hold onto. He keeps tonguing your cunt, holding your legs apart as they try to close off, his nose bumping against your clit making it impossible to hold your moans anymore.
You are squirming under the mercy of yoYir husband and his tongue. There's a knot tightening in the pit of your stomach and you could do nothing, not even speak out any coherent sentences.
"Cum for me, Y/N.", Mingyu urges you and that's the push you need before pouring out the juices all over his face. You're catching breathes when sensitivity hits you as your husband licks you clean off the juices.
You are biting down on your arm when Mingyu decides to prep you a bit further by scissoring his long fingers in your hole until it's oozing out for the second time.
Mingyu presses a soft kiss on your forehead before scurrying away for a few seconds and coming back holding a bunch of condoms in his hands.
"You had those?", you ask propping yourself on your elbows, genuinely amused.
Mingyu cocks his brow, "Not sure who it was but one of the guys has kept them in the drawer at one of the times they visited."
He climbs on the bed, straddling over you as he tears the wrapper with his teeth and rolls up a couple of condoms up his girth, "I didn't even know until all of them sent the same picture in the group chat."
You nod in silence, looking at his big veiny cock and it's red tip that's leaking precum, wondering if it's gonna even fit inside of you.
Mingyu hovers over you, pressing another soft kiss on your forehead.
"It's gonna hurt a bit at start but it's gonna feel good, okay?"
You nod again letting Mingyu hold your hands over your head, intertwining the fingers. He slowly pushes his length and sensing your ragged breathing he stills for sometime before continuing until he hilts all the way inside.
Tears roll down, as you try to adjust and your husband does nothing but kiss you softly trying to soothe you, divert your mind from the pain.
"Let me know when you want me to move."
He waits patiently and once you ask him to move, he thrusts ever so slowly, his lips never leaving yours.
"Gyu, faster please.", you say breaking the kiss.
And who is your husband to deny your wishes. He picks up his pace steadily thrusting in and out, as both of your moans fill the room.
Mingyu fiddles with your nipples by taking them into his mouth while his fingers rub your clit at a fast pace.
You're too dumbified by the way your body is reacting. Your legs are shaking, your stomach is pitting a knot again, your hands are gripping onto your husband for dear life and you swear you're seeing stars.
"Y/N?", Mingyu calls you out, seeing your dazed vision, "Are you okay?"
Your reply comes as another moan as your nails dig crescent shapes onto his back deeper, running through the back of his neck, grabbing onto the hair on the nape.
"Can you hold on for a bit more?", he coaxes you once he realises your gummy walls are clenching harder around his cock, "Let's cum together, can you do that for me right?"
Mingyu looks at the juncture where the bodies are meeting, where your cunt is swallowing him wholly. He groans at the sight of white foamy ring around his cock and kisses you hard making you squeak into his mouth.
"Let it go, Y/N.", he encourages you, his calloused fingers now rubbing your sides as his thrusts turn sloppy, "Cum for me."
Both of you are catching breathes. You lay eyes closed, not feeling your body at all. Mingyu lies looking at you, admiration laced in his eyes, his heart doing dibs thinking about how you trusted him enough to give your firsts to him. He realises that unlike him, you're not vocal so he has to focus on your body language to understand your needs. He also makes his mind to have a conversation with you like a descent person in the morning but before that--
"You need to pee.", he tells discarding the condom in the bin and while you groan he continues, "And we need to wash up. I'll run the bath, clean us up and change the sheets so please don't fall asleep till then."
You are incapable of registering his words so you just let him do whatever he wants to do with you.
Late in the morning, the conversation gets shelved until evening because Mingyu fucks you again because he is insatiable and so are you. Well, you both end up being each other's breakfast in bed.
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It's the day, you dread the most. It was the same day sixteen years ago when you lost your family. It's your birthday.
If only you hadn't thrown a tantrum about not wanting to celebrate the day at home as it had been done for all the years. Birthdays had always been a great deal to you. You wanted the celebration to be a bit grander which led all to unanimously decide to go the soaring picnic spot, inviting all your friends as well. Uncle being your favourite person, the rest of the family drove the to venue as it was an hour drive away a little earlier to set up things while you and your uncle drove in a van along with all your friends.
But instead of the picnic spot, you ended up in the hospital with your uncle identifying the bodies. The collision of two vehicles were severe enough to claim the lives of all present in them.
Though your uncle had never expressed anything as such but you know you are to blame for everything. You wondered if seeing you was even bearable to him. The guilt and regret changed you whole as a person. After the incident you distanced yourself from everything, everyone.
Birthdays mean nothing to you now. Unlike for other workers, no one receives your birthday mail as you have requested to the officials. No one knows, no one asks, no one cares and that's perfect for you.
It's been a long day, with you driving successive review and checkpoint meetings. One of the rare days where you want nothing but to fall to the comfort of your bed.
Just as you enter the house, you see a string a shoes lined one after another. You enter the hallway and come across the faces of your in-laws, your husband, his friends and your uncle.
Gatherings on any other day is always welcomed but not today. You have this look of disapproval on your face and the entire flock of people freeze. Without a word, you disappear into your room and it's about half an hour when you don't come out, Mingyu assures everyone and goes into the room.
"What are they doing here?", you ask as soon as he enters.
"Why? Are they not allowed to visit us?"
You glare at him, "They are. But why today? And you always inform me beforehand if anyone is coming so why's there an exception today?"
Mingyu sighs but walks upto you, "Y/N, they're just here to spend sometime with us. But if you want then I'll tell them to leave and trust me they'll leave instantly."
"Tell them to leave then. I don't want to entertain anyone today.", you say stoicly.
Mingyu nods, "All of them have brought something they've cooked for you. Hansol cooks occasionally and almost burnt his house but he came in so proud, bragging how he was able to cook something for you that's edible. And oh", he raises his finger plastered with a bandaid, "I've got a cut while chopping the vegetables. So are you gonna atleast eat them or should I tell them to take those back as well?"
There's a pang in your heart, it's constricts within your chest. Your eyes glistens with tears, the resolute within you starts to dissolve but you could never afford to do so. You don't deserve to be celebrated.
"It's the death anniversary of the people I love.", you say helplessly, "I don't remember them vividly, each year the memories of them are fading away. I can't bear to look at uncle without feeling guilty. He lost his son, his wife, his brother all because I wanted to celebrate a stupid birthday."
You are sobbing now and Mingyu holds you in his arms, letting his own tears fall. He hates that there's nothing he could provide to soothe you.
"There are so many words on the tip of my tongue but they're all meaningless.", he says and bites on his tongue to stop those tears from spilling, "I'm sorry but I won't let you wallow in sadness, I won't leave you all by yourself."
After staying quiet in his embrace, you tell him, "People are waiting for you, you should go. I'll be fine, I'm used to this."
Mingyu pulls away and holds your face gently, "Do you trust me?"
Your eyes say a lot, even if you hadn't given a nod, your husband would've known the answer.
"Then let's go and spend time with them.", Mingyu coaxes you, "They wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, if they do, I'll send them back."
You ponder over for sometime. Past years have always been the same, you wanting the day to pass by anyhow. You've preferred to be alone but you think you'd make an exception for your husband and all those people who are waiting for you outside knowing they genuinely care for you.
When you both step out of the room, you could see the worried faces and it makes you feel bad.
"We're are really sorry for barging in.", Seokmin breaks the silence as he stands up and following his suite everyone does so well, "We'll get going."
And there's a lot of shuffling. Everyone is off their seats and packing the stuffs when you decide to interrupt.
"I'm hungry", you say everyone halt, "And I'm bored of eating his cooking.", you point at your husband who gasp in offence but smiles nonetheless.
And that's how the dinner table was set with everyone sitting together eating and chatting happily. No one wishes you birthday, none of them have bought you gifts and it does seem like another normal gathering except for the subtle wishes of wellbeing they launch softly at you.
"You are beautiful, Y/N, inside out.", Minhee says as she secures the seat beside you, "I hope to see you healthy and beautiful always."
Sometime later, when the topic of work is brought up, Soonyoung slickly tells, "Y/N is handling such a big project.", and looking at you he speaks with a mouthful, "I know it'll be a huge success. Hope we get to see you achieve many more milestones in your career."
And throughout the dinner you recieve such praises and wishes from every single one of them. You didn't want to send them off but you had to with a heavy heart. First time, in several years you feel like you have a family, you want to hold onto people, want to expect certain things and be a part of them.
First time in several years, your birthday didn't haunt you rather it gave you a reason to smile.
Lying the bed, tired after a long day when you feel an arm drape around your waist, you turn to face your husband, snuggling closer in the comfort of his embrace when he opens his arms for you.
His eyes droop in sleepiness but he strokes your hair saying, "I wish you to be happy.", smiling sheepishly he adds, "Thanks for trusting me."
And when you watch your husband drift off to sleep, stroking his hair with a hesitant hand, you whisper, "Thanks for tolerating me."
Your relationship with Mingyu progresses steady but it's beautiful in it's own way. To you, Mingyu hasn't only been a good husband, he has been a great companion. He takes care of you, knows your limits and shortcomings, never makes you feel weirded out and makes sure to sort things out to be on the same page.
Your calendar previously which had only meeting dates marked on them are now filled with many more events such as your anniversary, Mingyu's birthday, Minhee's birthday, your uncle's birthday, your in-laws' anniversary etc etc. A smile appears on your face when you reminisce how late you were to your second anniversary party and how pissed Mingyu was at you, avoiding you the whole night until after the party was over and you had stripped yourself naked in front of him which worked to dissolve his anger as you let him fuck you dumb till the dawn.
You have a best friend now and her name is Minhee. You've always liked her and over the years you two have grown closer. Mingyu's friends, well more of yours, are not scared of you anymore, they've dropped all the formalities to pit long ago.
Junhui shares every funny thing he sees on the internet, on appointment days he rants to you about patients and work. Soonyoung now shares table with you during lunch and eat your ears off. Seokmin calls you randomly during work and if you don't pick up, he just sends you a candid picture of your husband with a caption 'thought you'd be missing him, so here's your husband. Don't thank me, just name one of your gaming character after me.'
Hansol is the most random of all, he just pings you any fact he learned out of the blue without any context. Sometimes when on asking when you confirm that you're free he sends you a bunch of pics telling you to choose the best among the lot. Jeonghan is the quietest among all, he'd only talk to you during the gatherings.
You have started calling Mingyu's parents as what Mingyu calls them because you are comfortable to call them so. They've blended into your life making you feel as their own. These changes in your life have helped you bond better with your uncle as well.
It's been over two years and you think you're happy. You think your married life is perfect and you're in love with certain things.
You love the back hugs, love those forehead kisses, love the smell of coffee that hits the house in the morning, love the way his mouth opens and closes in sleep, love when the fangs graze his lips as he smiles wide, love when his hand sneaks to wrap around yours on a busy road.
You're in love.
In love with your husband because how could you not, he's so easy to love. Though you feel there's still a lot you both need to discover about each other, you hope he'd also love you one day. He's your first love after all.
You are in the middle of a meeting when your phone keeps vibrating continuously. Trying to ignore it, your brows knit in agitation but that soon turns into worry when you check the caller ID. It's Minhee. Excusing yourself, you call her back.
And now after a drive of an hour you find yourself in front of the park, near her apartment.
"It's okay, I'm here now.", you say patting on Minhee's back, "Once you feel better, tell me everything."
And after some moments Minhee does relay everything. There's a thug-like guy who has started visiting the café she regulars at because somehow Minhee has piqued his interest. Even though she didn't notice at first, it started to strike her that she has been seeing a face almost everywhere she visits.
He has been following her to and back from the school she teaches in. He's been bold enough to get in the way and ask her to sleep with him for a night, if she wants to stop getting bothered by him.
Minhee has had enough to slap him straight across his face, even threatening to report him to the police. And that seemed to work because he didn't appear before her for a whole week until today.
As she describes it terrified, he had an ominous gaze, when he had given her an ultimatum to be compliant or be ready for the worse.
"I was so shocked and scared. I could only think about calling you. If Gyu knows about this he'd kill that guy even before police knows about him and would never let me work here. I don't want that.", Minhee says, "I am planning to go to the police today."
"You're so brave", you tell her as your gaze sweeps across the surrounding, "Let's deal with that guy now. Is it that guy standing over there?"
And Minhee now ponders over if it would have been safer to call her brother because the stalker guy, all bruised from the beating he got from you is kneeling in front of you both with hands up in air.
You've called the police and as soon as they arrive, that guy is mumbling confessions of all the harassment he did and tried to perform on Minhee.
"Did I tell you, I'm trained in taekwondo?", you ask her frowning, "Uncle also made me take specialization classes on self defence.", you suddenly hiss because of the bruises inflicted on you during the hassle and look at her.
Minhee engulfs you in a hug, "Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver."
Your lips curl up and you say pulling away, "Let's go to the station and complete the formalities and then we'll have to inform Mingyu and mom & dad as well."
Minhee hesitates but she knows she'll eventually have to so.
"Let's do that.", she agrees, "I have something else to tell you."
Your brows quirk up questioning as you both head towards your car.
"I have developed a liking towards Soonyoung.", she smiles looking at your flabbergasted demeanor, "No ones knows except you and him."
You swear, your head spins at this.
And as if she could read your mind, she adds, "I don't know how he feels but he said he'd never date me because I'm his friend's sister and that's against bro code."
You scoff, how typical of Soonyoung.
When Mingyu stumbles upon his sister's apartment that night, he finds her sleeping peacefully in her room. And when he goes searching for you, he finds you in the bathroom clutching the slab. Your eyes are red, forehead glistening with sweat.
"Oh god, Y/N...", Mingyu rushes inside as the door was open and holds you up on your feet, "what happened?"
"Stop shouting, you'll wake her up.", you say groaning, "and why do you care anyways?"
Right, you both rarely fought but when you did it would go on for days, like now. It started with a simple matter but escalated real quick causing Mingyu to lash out on you and give you a silent treatment. You tried to talk to him twice, which was more than you think you have done but were met with radio silence. He went as far as being petty enough to not even wait for you at dinner table or sleep facing you. And that's how you decided to shut him out as well. It's been a week since you both talked.
As Mingyu holds your waist to support you, you cry out in pain. You tried to resist but when he glares at you, you give up. He unbottons your top and his eyes almost gauze out on seeing the cut on your waist.
"How did it happen?", he sits you on the counter and pulls out the first aid box.
You stay quiet.
"Y/N, I'm asking something.", he uses an authoritative tone, looking at you.
"I thought we are not talking.", you snark at him but gasp when he dabs the cotton with antiseptic gel on the cut. He does several other sorts of things which makes you think he's a trained nurse before pasting the adhesive.
"Y/N, please.", he gets up and holds your face, "I know I have been an asshole and I'll keep apologizing to you until you forgive me. But please tell me are you hurt anywhere else? Did that bastard do this to you?"
You sigh and peel his hands off your face, "Yes, he was swinging his knife at me so while tackling him, I got that wound. And I got some bruises but Minhee treated those, didn't want to worry her so hid this one. You should be worried about Minhee. I'm fine."
Mingyu looks at you with so much admiration. His heart swells within his chest when he thinks about how you saved his sister and handled the situation well while he was being a jerk to you.
"The first thing Minhee asked on calling me was how did I manage to marry someone as amazing as you. That I should have seen you, you were looking like a superhero fighting off the evil.", he smiles pinching the bridge of your nose.
You bite your lower lip, your brows crease and Mingyu instantly deflates noticing the obvious signs.
"Are you on your periods?", he asks concerned.
"The cramps are killing me."
"You should have told me sooner.", he immediately lifts you up and takes you to the guestroom and lays you on the bed, "I think I know what all things Minhee uses for her cramps and where they are kept. I'll be back."
"I was supposed to sleep with Minhee tonight.", you say frowning.
"No, you're sleeping with me", he smiles, crouching to peck your forehead, "Minhee rotates around the bed all night in sleep. Doesn't matter though, I won't be letting you out of my sight."
And while he spends the whole night making sure you get a good sleep, in the morning he makes you apply for sick leave. He scolds Minhee for not calling him sooner as it could have been dangerous for you both but in turn gets scolded by you.
He doesn't take his car, rather drives your car back home because you were scheming on sending him away first, not wanting to go with him. He sulks throughout the way back because when he leans in to you, in the guise of helping you putting on the seatbelt just to give a kiss, you slap a hand over his mouth. But that doesn't stop him from not letting you go to your office room the whole day and spend the time in taking rest.
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It's an important day for you. It's a success party of the new game launch and playing the key role in leading back to back projects you're going to get felicitated at the party by the director herself.
You have informed Mingyu beforehand and he has promised to reach the venue before time, also squealing for days on about how he'd capture everything and show others, that how proud he is of his wife.
Your eyes boringly scan through the crowd, waiting for your husband.
"How am I looking?", Soonyoung's voice startles you.
As he takes a seat beside you, you tell him, "As usual. Are you supposed to not look like a human but something else?"
He scowls, "Wow, you're really doing this to me."
He brings over a glass of wine from the waiter who was passing and says, "I heard there have been some changes in the management and they'll be announcing it today."
You take a candy from the bowl kept on the table, "I'll be reporting to someone who has joined the company recently. My previous boss is gonna take over the strategy planning unit."
Soonyoung laughs, "There are rumours about him being eccentric."
"Let him be anything, I don't care as long as it doesn't hinder my work.", you tell him, eating the candy and checking your phone, "They're gonna start soon. Any idea when your dear friend is gonna arrive?"
"He was supposed to leave from work early", he tells you, "Don't worry he's punctual."
Mingyu curses when he checks the time. He's late.
"Min, I think you should leave as soon as possible.", Seokmin says as he helps him pack his bag, "You'll go home, get changed and then leave for the venue, right? You're running late by almost an hour already."
Mingyu is hot on his heels as he hurriedly takes his bag and rushes out of his cabin.
"Be careful!", Seokmin yells seeing Mingyu's fleeting demeanor, knowing how clumsy he can be and as he takes the keys to lock the cabin as requested by his friend his gaze falls on the USB drive which he knows Mingyu would need to work on some presentation.
Seokmin rushes to catch him so that he can give him the USB just in time. As he punches out his employee card, he sighs in relief as he recognises Mingyu standing still just outside the main door.
He pushes through the door and is just about to call him, something catches his eyes from the periphery of vision.
Just like Mingyu, Seokmin freezes on spot.
Because it is Sora who's standing in front of them.
Seokmin doesn't know what or if they had any conversation prior to his arrival but he grabs Mingyu's arm when he sees Sora open her car door and his friend heading in the se direction.
"Min, don't go.", he speaks the next part in louder tone, "your wife is waiting for you."
"I know what I'm doing, Min.", Mingyu frees his arm, "Trust me on this."
Seokmin watches helplessly as the car drives off to who knows where.
You are dejected. Even when recieving the award your eyes kept scanning the crowd just in hopes of seeing your husband's face. And still now doing so you keep on checking your phone, too upset to call or text him.
"I'll call him after they make the announcement.", Soonyoung says equally upset, "I'm sure something really urgent came up otherwise he'd have not missed it."
Everyone is asked to stand near the stage where they announce the key changes in management.
You are shocked when you hear a certain name being announced, see a certain figure taking the centre of the stage.
Xu Minghao is going to be your boss tomorrow onwards.
Minghao seems to have taken notice of you as his smile widens, his gaze locking on you.
Soonyoung has noticed the change in your demeanor, has followed the gaze of Minghao. He observes quietly before motioning you to come with him to a quieter place.
He then calls Mingyu putting his phone on speaker who doesn't pick up. There's an uneasy feeling settling at your chest and hope that your husband is fine wherever he is.
Soonyoung then calls Seokmin and regrets putting the phone on speaker because you hear what he says.
"Mingyu left with Sora and I can't reach him."
Your heart sinks because even though no one has ever talked to you about her, you know that name very well. Your husband's ex girlfriend whom he to marry.
"Trouble in paradise?"
Both you and Soonyoong turn to see Minghao standing, his gentle gaze bestowing upon you.
You decide to forget any other thoughts and wear a tight lipped smile, "Been a long time, Hao."
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→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.
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moonscriptsx · 1 year ago
Text
Daylight || 02 (M)
PART 1
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I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
SYNOPSIS:  Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.
PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]
GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]
WORDS: 12.7k.
WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.
A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰
PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles
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The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.
Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.
“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.
A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.
��Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.
“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”
“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”
Sleeping in…?
Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.
10:45 am.
“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.
“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”
“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”
But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.
“Sir I’m —“
“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”
Your eyebrows furrow at that.
“No,” you reply, confused.
“So why the formalities then?”
“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”
“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”
Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.
“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.
“It wasn’t enough for me.”
Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.
There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.
“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”
A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.
“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”
A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.
“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“
“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”
“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.
“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”
You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.
“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”
“Excuse me — hey!”
There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.
“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”
“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.
“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”
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It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.
“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”
“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”
“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”
You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.
“My asshole boss.”
Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.
“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”
It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.
“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.
“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”
Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.
Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.
“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”
Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.
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“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”
The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.
Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.
Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.
05:54 PM.
Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.
Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.
Ms. (Y/N),
Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.
P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.
Choi Seungcheol – Personal Representative of Choi Industries
Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.
Much regards, Jeon (Y/N).
“KIM MINGYU!”
You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.
“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.
“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”
“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”
“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”
Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”
“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”
“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.
“It’s not that big of a deal -”
“What’s going on?”
You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.
“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”
Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.
“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”
“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”
Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.
“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”
Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.
“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”
You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.
“What did you do?”
He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.
Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.
“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.
Wonwoo’s jaw sets.
“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.
“Jeon (Y/N).”
A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.
There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.
“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”
A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.
You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.
“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.
“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”
“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”
Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.
“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”
His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.
“Now.”
Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.
“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”
Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.
“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”
“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.
“Mr. Jeon –”
“Wonwoo,” he corrects.
The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.
“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.
Wonwoo’s frown deepens.
“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”
Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.
“I – What..?”
Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.
You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.
“Answer me, (Y/N).”
Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.
“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”
Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.
“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Mr. Jeon –”
“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”
A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”
“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.
“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”
Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.
“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”
“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”
“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”
Anger flashes in his eyes.
“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.
“Wonu.”
Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.
“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.
“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”
There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.
A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.
You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.
“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.
“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.
There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.
His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.
“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”
You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.
“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.
“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”
You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.
“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”
Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.
“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.
The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.
“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”
Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.
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“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”
Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.
“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.
Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.
“Well, yes, but —“
“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”
“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”
“WHAT?!”
The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”
“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”
“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”
Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.
“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”
You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.
“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“
“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”
“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”
“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”
“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”
“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”
“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”
“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”
You sigh, knowing he’s right.
“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”
Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”
“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”
“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”
Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.
“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”
Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.
“Alright, now who’s hungry?”
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You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.
Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.
You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.
You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.
“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.
“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”
“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”
There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.
“Gyu, please. Just tell him I’m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”
You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.
But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.
A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.
With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.
Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.
You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.
“How – how did you get my address?”
Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.
“You’re avoiding me.”
His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.
“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”
Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.
“You and I both know that that is a lie.”
Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.
“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.
“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”
There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.
“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”
Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.
“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”
The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.
“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”
Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.
“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”
A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.
“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”
“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”
Your gaze softens at his words.
You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.
With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.
“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”
A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.
Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.
Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.
Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.
“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”
You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.
A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.
A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.
“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”
There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.
Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.
You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.
“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.
“Down the hall to the right.”
It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.
“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”
Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.
“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.
“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”
You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.
“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”
Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.
“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”
A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.
“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”
Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.
“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”
You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.
A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.
“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”
Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.
“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”
Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”
The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.
Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.
He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.
Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.
“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”
Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”
A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.
“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.
Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.
“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”
A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.
Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.
“(Y/N)...”
Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.
Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.
“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”
The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.
“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”
A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.
“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”
A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.
“I’m the only one who deserves it.”
Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.
“Wonwoo – oh, fuck – !”
He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.
“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”
He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.
“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”
His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.
“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”
You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.
“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”
The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.
“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.
“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.
“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.
“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”
Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.
“Damn right, you’re mine.”
Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.
Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.
“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”
The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.
“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.
You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.
His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.
Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.
“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.
“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”
Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.
“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”
Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”
“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”
Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Even if I cost you your job?”
You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.
“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”
Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.
“That can be arranged.”
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[15 new messages]
From: Soonyoung Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon… ... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is… … so you’re welcome ;)
From: Joshua Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;
From: Gyu Wonwoo is missing He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back (Y/N)???? Hello???? This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!?? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!
To: Gyu She’s busy
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From: Gyu I – OH??? MY GOD???????? IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!! Also – ew Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again
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Epilogue
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“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”
Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.
“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”
Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.
“I knew I could count on you.”
The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.
“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”
Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.
“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”
“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”
Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”
His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.
“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”
Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.
“Nothing I’m not already used to.”
It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.
In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.
Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.
You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.
“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”
Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.
“Noted.”
Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.
“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”
You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.
You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.
“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.
“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.
He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.
Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.
“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”
Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.
An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.
“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.
“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”
You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.
“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.
“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.
“I love you,” he corrects.
Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.
“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.
“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.
“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.
“But I only want to be around you.”
Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.
“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”
Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.
“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”
You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.
“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.
With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.
“I love you too, Wonwoo.”
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thezombieprostitute · 1 month ago
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Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers
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Summary: It's only your first day on the job. That's way too soon to have an office crush. Right?
Warnings: Workplace stress and bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.
Part 1
Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
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Bucky sits across from Steve, a cocky smile on his face. Steve raises an eyebrow and Bucky says, "I gave her my number." Steve doesn't know that it wasn't about a date, but he doesn't have to know.
"You didn't."
"I did," Bucky smirks. "Which means, it's your turn."
"It's...it's not the same," Steve tries to argue. "You've known your Sweetie for months now, right? This girl is still a newbie. She's barely been here a month!"
"Deal's a deal, Punk," Bucky shakes his head. "One of us gives our number, the other one has to as well."
Steve's cheeks are incredibly pink from embarrassment. He's never been good at flirting, always stumbling over his words. Sure, his body attracts attention, but inside he's still the scrawny kid who always got laughed at when he tried to talk to a girl. Especially a girl as sweet and pretty as you.
The two of you had run into each other in one of the break rooms a few times. Every time Steve talked with you, he found himself getting lost in your eyes, but that led to him not knowing what you were saying. His face would turn red and he'd quickly run out of the room. Another time you'd complimented his art and he got scared you'd see one of the drawings he did of you so he quickly closed his book and you felt bad, like you had overstepped.
And now, thanks to Bucky, Steve needs to admit he'd like to spend more time with you. Admit that he thinks about you every day. Admit that he likes you. He can do this, right?
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You were crying in the ladies room for the third time since you were hired. There was so much, so fast and your coworkers were already blaming you for things. Especially things you didn't even know were your responsibility. No one had told you or shown you how to do them but they still blamed you! It's not like you were entirely new to this kind of work, but the systems were very different and, most importantly, you didn't know what was and wasn't part of your job because they hadn't told you! When you finally calm down, you head to the sinks and wash your face, trying to hide the tears.
As you tiptoe back to your cubicle, trying not to draw attention to yourself, you end up literally running into Steve, the dreamy guy from the IT Department. He manages to catch you before you fall, bringing you in for an accidental hug. You find yourself instinctively hugging him back, squeezing him tight.
"Are...are you okay?" Steve isn't going to complain about being hugged by you, but he's worried you're not in your right mind.
"Oh, sh-shoot," you break the hug and jump away. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...I'm just..." you fight a resurgence of tears and run to your cubicle. When you get there, Maggie, your least favorite new coworker, is glaring at you, arms crossed.
"Really, Newbie," she admonishes, "you've been here a month and you still don't know how to update the most basic fields in the database?"
"I...every person does it diff--"
"Enough!" she cuts you off. "Really, you should be able to do this. You're killing our metrics!"
"I'm...I'm sorry," you hang your head, trying to not cry again. "I keep getting told different things about how to do the updates."
"Empty apologies and excuses!" Maggie retorts. "I don't know why you got hired. You're bringing us---"
"Margaret," Steve interrupts her. You jump, not realizing he had followed you. "Tell me, Margaret, how do you think your boss would react if he knew you'd been spending half your day on Facebook?"
She fumes at both of you for a minute before going back to her own cubicle.
"I really wish you hadn't done that, Steve," you whisper. "I'm already on their sh-crap list. This is only going to make it worse."
Steve takes a breath, "you're right, I'm sorry. I just really hate bullies."
"Me too," you nod. "But right now I've gotta make these bullies happy, okay?"
"It's not okay," Steve shakes his head. "But I promise I'll be more careful."
"Thank you."
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Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;
@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly
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pdriesta · 2 months ago
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CHAPTER FOUR
“i want something that i know is real”
pairings — judexblack!girl
genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)
warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)
word count — 6.3k
summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?
an — my favourite chapter! i eat up the sick trope
masterlist
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as y/n arrived at jude’s apartment building, the evening sun casting a soft, golden glow across the streets, she felt a wave of doubt wash over her. her heart pounded as she stared at the door, clutching the bags of food and medicine she had brought with her. what am i even doing here? she thought, biting her lip. this is crazy. i don’t even have his number, and now i’m just showing up at his place like some kind of stalker.
the plan had seemed solid at the time—check on jude, make sure he was okay, maybe bring him something comforting. but now, standing outside his door, her anxiety took over, making her second-guess everything. she knew how unusual it was for her to do something so impulsive, and the fear of being an intrusion gnawed at her. she began to turn away, thinking she could just drop the food off and leave, when the door suddenly opened.
“y/n?” jude’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and full of surprise. he reached out, catching her by the arm before she could retreat. his touch was gentle, but it stopped her in her tracks, grounding her in the moment.
y/n froze, her mind racing. “oh, um, hi,” she stammered, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t going to just leave, i swear. i mean, i was, but not like that! i wasn’t stalking you or anything, i just wanted to make sure you were okay because you didn’t seem well, and i know this is probably really weird and—”
jude’s soft chuckle interrupted her rambling. “y/n, it’s okay. really,” he reassured her, his hand still warm on her arm. “i’m glad you came. it’s good to see you.”
his words eased the tension in her chest, and she finally let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “you are?” she asked, her voice small, still not entirely convinced.
“yeah,” he nodded, stepping aside to invite her in. “come on in. what did you bring?”
y/n hesitated for a moment before stepping into his apartment. the space was dim, the only light coming from the flickering television and the soft glow of the evening sun through the windows. she felt a pang of sympathy as she noticed the clutter, the signs of his illness evident in the abandoned tissues and half-empty water bottles scattered around.
“i, um, brought some food,” she said, lifting the bags slightly as she walked further inside. “it’s nothing special, just some things my mom used to make when my siblings and i were sick. i thought it might help, you know, with getting your strength back. i noticed you lost some muscle…”
jude raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips despite his obvious fatigue. “you noticed that, huh? what else did you bring?”
y/n blushed, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “some medicine too, in case you didn’t have any. and, um, i just wanted to make sure you had company.”
“you went through all this trouble for me?” jude asked, his tone softening with a hint of awe. he leaned against the back of his couch, clearly touched by her effort.
“it wasn’t any trouble,” y/n replied quickly, brushing off his gratitude. “i didn’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling this way. besides, i’ve taken enough herbal remedies from my mom to last a lifetime. so, if you’re worried about getting me sick, don’t be.”
he smiled at that, a genuine smile that lit up his tired face. “you really didn’t have to do this, but i’m glad you did. thank you.”
as they settled onto the couch, y/n began to unpack the food she had brought, setting out the dishes with care. the aroma of the warm, hearty meals filled the room, bringing a comforting sense of home with them. jude watched her, his gaze softening as she moved about, completely focused on making him comfortable.
“this smells amazing,” jude commented, as she handed him a bowl of soup. “what’s in it?”
“it’s a family recipe,” y/n said with a shy smile, “my mom always made this for us when we were sick. she’d say it was to bring back any weight we lost. it’s full of good stuff—lots of vegetables, some meat, and her special mix of spices.”
jude took a cautious sip, his eyes widening in surprise at the rich, comforting flavor. “this is incredible,” he said, looking at her with newfound appreciation. “i don’t think i’ve ever had anything like this.”
“really?” y/n asked, a small smile tugging at her lips. “i’m glad you like it.”
“like it? i love it,” jude replied, his tone sincere. “you’ve got some serious cooking skills, y/n.”
she laughed softly, a little embarrassed by the compliment. “well, i had a good teacher.”
as they continued to eat, the atmosphere between them grew more comfortable, the earlier awkwardness dissipating. it was nice, y/n thought, to be able to do something for him, to help in some small way. she had been so caught up in her own anxieties lately that it felt good to focus on someone else for a change, especially someone she cared about.
just as she was about to offer him some more food, jude’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen before answering. “hey, mum,” he said, his voice still raspy.
y/n shifted slightly, suddenly feeling like she was intruding. she busied herself with tidying up the table, trying to give him some privacy. but as the conversation continued, she couldn’t help but overhear jude telling his mum that she was there.
“really?” his mum’s voice was warm even through the phone. “can i speak to her?”
jude glanced at y/n, holding out the phone. “she wants to talk to you.”
y/n blinked, taken aback. “me? oh, um, okay.” she hesitated for a moment before taking the phone, pressing it to her ear. “hello, mrs. bellingham?”
“please, call me denise,” jude’s mum said with a friendly laugh. “i’m so glad to finally speak to you, y/n. jude’s mentioned you before, you know. i’ve been wanting to thank you for looking after him at work.”
“oh, it’s nothing, really,” y/n said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “i just wanted to make sure he was okay. i’m sorry for coming over unannounced; i know it’s probably not appropriate…”
“nonsense,” denise cut her off gently. “you’re hardly a stranger, dear. you’re jude’s friend, and it’s not inappropriate at all. i’m actually really happy you’re there with him. he’s lucky to have someone like you looking out for him.”
y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at those words, easing the lingering doubt she had felt. “thank you, denise. that means a lot.”
“it’s my pleasure,” denise replied warmly. “take good care of him for me, will you? and i can’t wait to meet you in person soon.”
“i will,” y/n promised before handing the phone back to jude. she caught the soft smile on his face as he finished the call, and she couldn’t help but feel a little shy under his gaze.
“what did my mum say to you?” jude asked, his tone teasing.
“just that you’re not a baby and that she’s glad i’m here,” y/n replied, a small smile playing on her lips. “she seems really nice.”
“she is,” jude agreed, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer. “and she’s right, you know. i am glad you’re here.”
y/n felt her cheeks flush again as she quickly busied herself with getting the medicine she had brought. “you should take this,” she said, handing him a small cup of liquid. “it’ll help with the fever.”
jude made a face but took the medicine, grimacing as he swallowed it down. “ugh, that stuff is terrible.”
y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. “i know, but it works. here, drink some water.”
she held the glass for him as he drank, their fingers brushing slightly as she did. it was a small, intimate moment, but it made y/n’s heart skip a beat. she quickly pulled her hand back, hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers trembled slightly.
jude set the glass down and leaned back against the couch, sighing as the medicine started to take effect. “you really didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured, his eyes starting to droop. “but thank you, y/n. it means more to me than you know.”
“it’s no problem,” she replied softly, reaching out to smooth a strand of hair away from his forehead. “you just focus on getting better.”
as jude settled into the couch, he reached for the remote and turned on the tv. “have you seen breaking bad?” he asked, his voice already thick with drowsiness.
“not really,” y/n admitted, settling beside him. “i’ve heard it’s good, though.”
“it is,” jude said, a small smile playing on his lips. “let’s start it from the beginning, then. you can keep me company.”
they watched the show in comfortable silence, the only sound in the room the low hum of the tv. as the first episode played, jude’s head gradually began to
 droop until it rested against y/n’s shoulder. she froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, but when he let out a contented sigh, she relaxed.
“you’re okay with this?” he mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep.
y/n smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection. “of course,” she whispered, gently guiding his head to her lap. “just rest.”
jude shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and as she began to run her fingers through his hair, he let out a low, satisfied hum. “that feels nice,” he murmured.
y/n’s smile widened, and she continued the soothing motion, her own heart calming as she watched him drift off. his breathing slowed, becoming steady and deep, but just as he was about to fully succumb to sleep, he stirred slightly.
“y/n?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“yeah?” she replied, still running her fingers through his curls.
“what do you like about me?” he asked, his tone so vulnerable that it caught her off guard.
y/n’s heart skipped a beat, and she hesitated, her hand stilling in his hair. “what do you mean?”
“i can’t tell,” jude confessed, his eyes still closed, his voice laced with exhaustion. “i know i like you, but i don’t know what you see in me.”
y/n’s chest tightened at his words, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at something deep within her. she resumed stroking his hair, her touch gentle and reassuring as she gathered her thoughts.
“jude, you’re one of the most patient, understanding, and caring people i’ve ever met,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “you always take the time to listen, to make sure people are okay, even when you’re not feeling your best. and you’re not bad to look at either.”
a faint smile tugged at the corners of jude’s lips, even as he kept his eyes closed. “not bad, huh?”
“not bad at all,” y/n confirmed, her voice warm and teasing.
jude let out a small chuckle before his expression softened, and he opened his eyes to look up at her. “i like your heart, y/n,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. “you came all the way here to take care of me, and you didn’t have to. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, inside and out.”
y/n felt her cheeks flush at his words, her heart swelling with affection and something deeper, something she didn’t quite know how to name. she continued to stroke his hair, her touch gentle and soothing as she tried to process the emotions swirling inside her.
“you’re my best friend, y/n,” jude murmured, his eyes drooping once more as sleep finally began to claim him. “and i’ll wait for you, okay? however long it takes.”
y/n’s breath hitched at his words, and she blinked back the sudden sting of tears. “okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “thank you, jude.”
as jude finally drifted off to sleep, y/n remained where she was, her fingers still gently running through his hair. she watched him for a while, her heart full of emotions she couldn’t quite name. for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace, the weight of her past fears and doubts lifted, if only for a moment.
and as she sat there, with jude resting in her lap, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she had finally found a place where she belonged.
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y/n sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, as she watched jude’s chest rise and fall with each slow breath. his head, heavy and warm, rested in her lap, a stark contrast to herself sitting down. the sight made her smile softly—a huge man like jude, so strong and capable on the field, now lying vulnerable and completely at her mercy. it was almost comical, and yet, it felt right in a way she couldn’t fully explain.
the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room, adding to the quiet intimacy of the moment. y/n carefully brushed a few strands of hair from jude’s forehead, her fingers lingering there as she assessed his temperature. the fever had broken, but she could still feel the remnants of sweat clinging to his skin. she reached for the towel he’d been using earlier and gently patted his face, her movements tender and deliberate.
“wake up, love,” she murmured, the word slipping out before she could catch herself. she froze, her hand midair, but jude didn’t stir. she let out a small sigh of relief, assuming he was still too out of it to hear her. she continued to run her fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness beneath her touch, unaware of the contented smile that had crept onto his lips.
after a few moments, jude’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze hazy as he adjusted to the dim light. when he saw y/n, his smile widened, a warm glow filling his chest. “hey,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.
“hey,” y/n replied softly, her fingers still threading through his hair. “how are you feeling?”
“better,” he said, his eyes closing again as he leaned into her touch. “much better.”
she couldn’t help but notice how his large frame almost dwarfed her, yet here he was, completely at ease in her care. jude shifted slightly, his cheek brushing against her thigh, and that’s when he noticed how damp it was. he groaned softly, lifting his head just enough to look at her apologetically. “i’m sorry, i think i sweat all over you.”
y/n shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “it’s fine, really. i’m just glad the medicine is working.”
jude hesitated before raising his head fully from her lap, reluctant to break the connection but knowing he needed to. “you’ve been here the whole time?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“yeah,” y/n said, rising from the couch to get more medicine for him. “you’ve been asleep for a good two and a half hours. i just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”
he watched her with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to name. “you didn’t have to stay,” he said, though the idea of her leaving felt strangely wrong.
“i wanted to,” she replied, her voice firm yet gentle as she handed him the medicine. “besides, someone had to make sure you took this.”
jude took the medicine from her, their fingers brushing in the exchange. it was a small, fleeting touch, but it sent a shiver down his spine. he quickly downed the medicine with a grimace, then took the glass of water she offered, drinking it all without taking his eyes off her.
“so, you got pretty far in the show, huh?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation to something lighter. jude looked at her in surprise, his eyes brightening a little. “watching it without me?” he teased lightly, though there was genuine happiness in his tone. “i’m just glad you like it enough to continue .”
“i did,” she admitted, moving to get him more medicine. “though i think i’ll need you to explain a few things to me. some parts were a bit confusing.”
he chuckled softly, the sound warming her from the inside out. “i’ll gladly give you a rundown anytime,” he replied, his eyes following her as she returned with the medicine.
“i’m surprised you actually got me into it.” y/n said with a nod, sitting back down beside him. 
jude chuckled, feeling a bit more like himself. “told you it’s good. i’m just glad you didn’t leave while i was out cold.”
y/n smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “i almost did,” she admitted, her voice softening. “i didn’t want to intrude or make you uncomfortable.”
“intrude?” jude echoed, his brows knitting together in confusion. “y/n, you’re the last person who could ever make me uncomfortable. honestly… i was really happy to see you when i woke up.”
y/n blushed, ducking her head to hide it. “i just didn’t know if you’d want me here. i mean, i showed up without even having your number. it’s a bit… embarrassing.”
jude’s expression softened, and he reached out to tilt her chin up, making her meet his eyes. “i’m glad you came,” he said, his voice sincere. “and now, you don’t have to worry about that.” he handed her his phone, his smile turning playful. “go on, put your number in.”
y/n took his phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she entered her number. she handed it back to him, and he saved it with a contented nod. “there, now you can’t say you don’t have my number,” he teased.
she laughed softly, but her mind was still racing with thoughts. “you know, i had to go through your file to get your address,” she confessed, a bit sheepish. “the lengths i went to…”
jude chuckled, shaking his head. “and here i was thinking you had some secret method for tracking me down,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “it’s not like that. i just—i was really worried about you.”
“i know,” jude said, his teasing tone fading into something more serious. “and i really appreciate it, y/n. more than you know.”
the room fell into a comfortable silence, the air between them thick with unspoken emotions. jude leaned back against the couch, his hand reaching out to hers. he gently squeezed her fingers, a silent thank you for everything she had done for him.
“i should probably go,” y/n said after a while, though the words felt heavy on her tongue.
jude’s hand tightened around hers. “do you have to?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard.
“my brother and sister-in-law are nearby,” she explained, though she wasn’t in a hurry to leave, “they can pick me up.”
jude shook his head, a stubborn set to his jaw. “no, i’ll take you home. you came all this way to take care of me, it’s the least i can do.”
y/n frowned, worry etching across her features as she gently squeezed his hand. “jude, you’re still sick. you need to rest more, not drive around the city. please, let my brother get me. i’ll feel better knowing you’re here, taking care of yourself.”
he opened his mouth to argue but was met with the determined look in her eyes. with a sigh, he relented, though his hand didn’t let go of hers. “fine, but you have to promise me you’ll call when you get home. i want to know you’re safe.”
y/n’s expression softened at the concern in his voice. “i will,” she promised, offering him a reassuring smile. “i’ll text you as soon as i’m home.”
jude’s face fell slightly, though he tried to mask it. “oh… okay.”
“hey,” she reached out, brushing her thumb gently across the back of his hand, “it’s not goodbye forever. you’re stuck with me, remember?”
his lips quirked up at that, a small smile breaking through his disappointment. “yeah, i remember.”
y/n stood up slowly, reluctant to break the connection. “i’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.
jude closed his eyes at the feel of her lips on his skin, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the fever. when he opened his eyes again, y/n was already at the door, her hand resting on the handle.
“y/n,” he called out, making her pause and turn back to him. he smiled softly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “thank you… and, you know, i think i’m completely gone for you.”
y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his confession, and she felt her cheeks heat up. but instead of responding, she just smiled back at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of emotions.
“i’ll see you soon, jude,” she said softly, before slipping out the door and into the cool evening air.
as the door clicked shut behind her, jude let out a long breath, his heart pounding in his chest. he knew without a doubt that he was completely and utterly gone for her.
as y/n stepped out of jude’s apartment building, she spotted her brother’s car parked a short distance away. the street was quiet, with only the soft hum of the city in the background. her thoughts were still tangled up in the warmth of jude’s apartment, the feeling of his hand lingering in hers, and the way he’d looked at her like he didn’t want her to leave. as she walked toward the car, she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.
the moment she opened the back door, carmen’s warm smile greeted her. “hey, y/n! how was your night?” she asked, scooting over to make room for her.
y/n slid into the backseat, pulling the door shut behind her. “it was… nice,” she replied softly, trying to keep the fluttering in her stomach from showing on her face as she buckled in.
alejandro glanced at her in the rearview mirror as he started the car. “this is some neighborhood,” he commented, the hint of curiosity in his voice impossible to miss. “what kind of friend do you have living in a place like this?”
y/n hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm under his gaze. “just… a friend,” she said, her voice quiet. she wasn’t sure how much to say, but the thought of hiding jude felt strange, like she was denying something that had already grown important to her.
carmen, ever the playful one, turned around in her seat, eyebrow raised. “a friend? come on, y/n. we’re family—you can’t just drop a hint like that and not spill the details.”
y/n fiddled with the strap of her bag, her heart beating faster. “his name is jude… jude bellingham,” she confessed, the words feeling almost surreal as they left her lips.
alejandro’s reaction was instant. he slammed on the brakes, the car lurching forward and causing them all to jerk in their seats. “wait, what? jude bellingham, the football star?” he exclaimed, turning to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief. “y/n, what is someone like him doing hanging out with you?”
the question hit her like a slap. y/n’s heart sank, and she felt a wave of hurt wash over her. “what do you mean, someone like me?” she asked, her voice trembling with the effort to stay calm, but her eyes betrayed her.
alejandro softened, though his confusion was clear. “you’re… you’re just different, y/n. you’re sweet, shy, and always looking for something serious. a guy like jude… he’s got the whole world at his feet. women practically throw themselves at him, and he’s… well, he’s…”
“he’s what?” y/n cut in, a sharp edge in her voice. “out of my league? or is it that you think i’m not good enough?”
alejandro winced at her words, knowing he’d touched a nerve. “that’s not what i meant, y/n. it’s just… you were with javier for so long, and now you’re spending time with someone like jude? it’s… it’s different. he’s not the type to settle down, and i don’t want you getting hurt.”
y/n’s chest tightened, the old wounds from her relationship with javier threatening to resurface. she wasn’t blind to the reality that jude could have anyone he wanted, and that insecurity gnawed at her more than she’d like to admit. but hearing it from her brother, someone who was supposed to protect her, made it sting even more.
before she could respond, carmen jumped in, her voice firm and protective. “alejandro, that’s enough,” she said, glaring at him. “y/n is an amazing woman, and she deserves happiness just like anyone else. jude is lucky to have her as a friend, and you should be proud that your sister is attracting the attention of someone so wonderful, not trying to tear her down.”
alejandro opened his mouth to argue, but carmen wasn’t finished. “and another thing—y/n isn’t some naive little girl. she knows what she wants, and she’s smart enough to make her own decisions. if jude is spending time with her, it’s because he sees what we all see: that she’s kind, caring, and beautiful inside and out.”
y/n felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, grateful for carmen’s fierce defense. “thanks, carmen,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.
carmen reached back and squeezed y/n’s hand reassuringly. “don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself, y/n. you’re worth more than that, and you deserve to be happy, with whoever makes you feel good.”
alejandro sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as the tension in the car hung heavy. “lo siento, y/n,” he murmured, glancing at her through the mirror again. “i just… i worry about you. that’s all.”
“i know,” y/n replied, her voice softer now. “but you don’t have to. i’m fine, really. jude… he’s a good guy.”
alejandro nodded slowly, though his expression was still troubled. “okay. just… be careful, okay?”
the rest of the ride was quieter, the tension lingering but softened by carmen’s presence. when they finally pulled up to her apartment, carmen turned to y/n with a gentle smile. “you call us if you need anything, okay? and don’t let alejandro’s nonsense get to you.”
y/n managed a small smile. “i will. thanks, carmen.”
as she stepped out of the car, she felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her—gratitude for her sister-in-law’s support, lingering hurt from her brother’s words, and a deep, unsettling uncertainty about where things stood with jude. she made her way into her apartment, the familiar surroundings doing little to calm her racing thoughts.
meanwhile, back at jude’s place, he was lying in bed, his phone resting on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. the minutes ticked by, and with each one, his anticipation grew. he had been waiting for a text from y/n, something to let him know she got home safely, but his phone remained silent. he thought back to the way she’d looked at him, the way she’d taken care of him without hesitation. a smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the sound of her calling him “love,” even if she hadn’t meant for him to hear it.
finally, jude picked up his phone and typed out a quick message: 
jude: you get home okay? thanks again for everything tonight. sleep well. <3
he placed the phone back on his chest, still smiling as he thought about her. he didn’t know where things were headed with y/n, but tonight had made one thing clear—she was special to him, more than he’d realized. as he closed his eyes, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, the warmth of her presence still lingering in his mind. whatever tomorrow brought, he knew he didn’t want to lose what they had.
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y/n sat at her desk in the physio room, her fingers idly tracing the edge of a medical file as she tried to focus on the work in front of her. the familiar hum of the facility buzzed around her, but her mind was elsewhere—lost in the whirlwind of emotions she’d been wrestling with since last night. every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of jude’s hand in hers, hear the softness in his voice as he asked her to stay. the memory of him lying there, vulnerable and sweet, sent a shiver down her spine, one that was equal parts excitement and fear.
she couldn’t deny it anymore. whatever she felt for jude, it was real, tangible, and growing stronger by the day. but with that realization came the familiar sting of doubt. she’d been down this road before—letting herself fall, only to be hurt in ways she never expected. javier had left scars that were still too fresh, too deep to ignore. she remembered how he’d made her feel small, unworthy, like she was never enough. and though jude was nothing like him, the fear of history repeating itself lingered at the back of her mind, casting a shadow over the joy she felt when she was with him.
as y/n was lost in her thoughts, the door to the physio room creaked open. she looked up, expecting to see another player needing treatment, but her heart skipped a beat when she saw jude standing in the doorway, his familiar grin lighting up his face.
"there's my favorite girl," jude said, his voice warm and teasing as he stepped inside, his eyes locking onto hers.
y/n’s cheeks warmed instantly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "your favorite girl? what happened to your favorite physio?" she asked, arching a playful eyebrow at him.
jude’s grin widened as he walked over, leaning casually against the treatment table. "well, i figured it was about time you got a promotion," he said, his tone light but his eyes holding a certain intensity. "besides, you’re definitely more than just my favorite physio, y/n."
her heart fluttered at his words, and she had to look away for a moment, focusing on the paperwork in front of her to steady herself. "i’m flattered, bellingham," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, even as her pulse raced.
“you should be,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. “you’ve managed to climb to the top of the list in record time.”
y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “i didn’t realize i was being ranked,” she said, meeting his gaze again.
“oh, you are,” jude said, his smile softening. “but trust me, it’s a good thing.”
just as y/n was about to respond, jude’s expression shifted, a more serious look crossing his face, though there was still a hint of playfulness in his eyes. “but, speaking of things you didn’t realize… why didn’t you text me when you got home last night?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “i was worried, you know.”
y/n blinked, caught off guard by the question. “oh… i’m sorry, jude. i didn’t mean to worry you,” she said quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “i guess i was just tired and it slipped my mind.”
jude’s expression softened further, though there was still a glint of mischief in his eyes. “well, i had to do a welfare check to make sure you were safe,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “i almost sent out a search party.”
y/n’s eyes widened slightly, and she could tell he was exaggerating, but the concern in his voice made her heart ache in the best way. “a search party?” she repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“yep,” jude nodded, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as if sharing a secret. “i was this close to calling in reinforcements.”
y/n laughed, her tension melting away under his warm gaze. “you’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head, though she couldn’t help the warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of him caring enough to worry.
“maybe,” he admitted, his smile softening as he looked at her. “but i care about you, y/n. a lot.”
her breath caught at his words, and she found herself unable to look away from him, the sincerity in his eyes making her heart swell. she could see it now, the way he looked at her, the way his voice softened when he spoke to her—it wasn’t just a joke or a casual flirtation. he truly cared about her, and that realization both thrilled and terrified her.
“i’m sorry i worried you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll make sure to text you next time.”
“good,” jude said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. “i’d hate to have to go through all that again.”
they shared a quiet moment, the air between them charged with unspoken words and emotions. y/n felt her heart racing, her mind spinning with everything she wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to. but jude didn’t push; he simply smiled at her, his eyes warm and reassuring, making her feel like everything was going to be okay.
“you know,” he said after a moment, his tone lightening again, “you really do owe me for all that stress.”
y/n raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the way her heart was still fluttering. “oh, do i?”
“mm-hmm,” jude nodded, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “but don’t worry, i’ll collect my payment in installments. maybe starting with another one of those movie nights.”
y/n laughed, the tension in her chest easing as she met his playful gaze. “deal,” she said, feeling a little more at ease. “but only if you promise not to worry too much if i forget to text you again.”
“only if you promise to keep me in the loop,” jude countered, his grin widening.
“i promise,” she said softly, her smile matching his.
“good,” jude said, his voice warm as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against her cheek in a tender, lingering kiss. the touch was light, almost like a whisper, but it sent a wave of warmth through y/n’s entire body.
when he pulled back, there was a playful smirk on his face. “i owed you one of those,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
y/n’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she instinctively brought a hand up to the spot where his lips had been. “jude…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. she felt flustered, caught off guard by the unexpected kiss, but also undeniably giddy.
he chuckled softly, clearly pleased with her reaction. “what? you didn’t see that one coming?” 
“no, i… definitely didn’t,” she admitted, her heart racing. “you’re full of surprises, bellingham.”
“just wait,” he said, giving her hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “there’s plenty more where that came from.”
she could only stare at him, her mind spinning with a mix of emotions—nervousness, excitement, and something else she couldn’t quite name. as he turned to leave, she found herself wishing he’d stay just a little longer.
there was a moment of silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that felt full of unspoken words and shared feelings, the kind that made y/n’s heart flutter in her chest. she found herself wanting to reach out, to close the distance between them, but the fear of what that might mean held her back. instead, she focused on the way jude was looking at her, the tenderness in his eyes making her feel like she was the only thing that mattered to him.
“you’re really something else, you know that?” jude said suddenly, his voice low and sincere. “i don’t think i’ve ever met anyone like you.”
y/n’s breath caught in her throat at his words, and she felt her heart swell with emotion. “jude…” she began, but the words failed her. what could she say? that she was falling for him, that he made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years, that she was terrified of what that might mean?
he seemed to sense her hesitation, and he reached out, gently taking her hand in his. the touch was warm, comforting, and it sent a jolt of electricity through her. “it’s okay, y/n,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted you to know.”
she looked down at their joined hands, feeling the weight of his words settle over her like a soft blanket. she wanted to believe him, to let herself fall completely into whatever this was, but the voice in the back of her mind—the one that whispered javier’s cruel words—kept holding her back.
before she could get too lost in her thoughts, jude stood up, still holding her hand. “i should get going,” he said, his tone light even though his eyes lingered on her face, like he was memorizing every detail. “but i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow, y/n,” he called over his shoulder, giving her one last smile before he walked out of the room, leaving her standing there, her cheek still tingling from the kiss.
as the door clicked shut behind him, y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. she touched her cheek again, feeling the warmth still lingering there, and couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.
she was in deep now, and she knew it. but as scary as it was, she couldn’t deny that there was something about jude—something that made her want to take the leap, to see where this could go. maybe it was crazy, maybe it was risky, but as she stood there, heart racing and cheeks flushed, y/n couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.
next
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© PDRIESTA 2024
taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot
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accio-victuuri · 7 months ago
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i was supposedly gonna address this by end of month and with my april candy round up but i think might as well do it now. only because it is being shared primarily on international platforms and i feel the need to put out this reminder. i wouldn’t even dream about controlling how one chooses to participate in this fandom but sometimes people need a wake up call.
so, there has been a video going around of GG filming Legend of Zanghai and there is a staff there that people are saying is WYB. it showed this person talking to GG while he is on standby and shooting etc. first of all, these two are notoriously good at hiding and being professional in their workplace. especially now. i doubt they will flaunt each other on set with one acting like a PA for the other. not only that, they both hate to cause any disturbance on set or have unnecessary eyes on them — much worse, gossip, so this is a no.
and in the very low chance that it is WYB or that whatever rumor we have of XX visiting XXX on set is true, the last person who should be outing their secret meetings shouldn’t be turtles. if there is one thing i really miss from the beginnings of this fandom is how much people protected them. even if at times we became obnoxious, you know that the reason is because we wanted to keep them safe. nowadays, i feel like more turtles don’t even care at all. they will show off anything to prove a point. but at what cost? seriously, how far would you go? how much disregard for their rights as human beings will you allow?
which leads me to the main problem here: sharing leaks. i personally sometimes can’t avoid it, especially on weibo cause it depends on who you follow, it will come up. or worse, the leaked videos/photos goes on hot search. xz has been very vocal against proxy shooting for this project so idk why some turtles continue to disrespect his wishes. it’s one thing to see it accidentally, but for international fans to share it and then make it out to be this “scandalous” video proof is so questionable. what makes them different from professional weibo paparazzis who out celebrity couples? who follow them in their homes and even their parents? how are they different from ss who put trackers on their cars and obsess over their personal itinerary? it’s so sus to call yourself a fan who care about them but applaud this kind of behavior. these kind of fans honestly don’t see xz and wyb as people. leave them the fuck alone. i don’t think i can stress that enough. let’s speculate all we want from the materials they willingly give us and try not to make it harder for them to live their personal lives.
i understand how material like that can make someone happy and affirmed but think about them first.
and if you are someone who needs solid video proof to support the boys and be on the bjyxszd train, then please leave this fandom now. i can tolerate alot of behaviors but never ones that endanger them like this. this need for constant validation is dangerous. it’s their relationship, not ours. they are real people and not fictional characters.
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tragedy-of-commons · 8 months ago
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bare (my soul)
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kaeya x gn!reader | wc: ~550
tags/warnings: domestic fluff w kaeya's baggage, he's soggy
notes: i love him
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“Kaeya, this is egregious.”
You gesture wildly at his barren walls and the desolate living space more fitting of a Favonius jail cell than a home (or so you complained moments earlier).
“Shatter my heart into pieces, why don’t you?” he sighs, then pokes your side in jest. You’re just too adorable not to play around with - even when you’re critiquing his admittedly subpar interior design skills. “Weren’t you the one who insisted on moving in with me?”
“Only because I’m generous enough to consider proximity to your workplace,” you grumble, trying in vain to balance three boxes of your things in your arms at once. “If you had moved in with me, you’d probably have to run a marathon everyday to captain your non-existent cavalry.” Kaeya plucks the top box from your stack, revealing your unimpressed face to him. He grins. “Careful. If you keep saying things like that, I just might think you like me.”
You move to set your boxes down on the floor beside his boring, singular sofa. “I could wax poetic all day about my love for you–” “Oh, I’m dying to hear it, sweetheart–” “–But we seriously need to do something about your.. lifestyle.” You imitate a pompous noble, splaying the back of your hand across your forehead in distress.
Kaeya Alberich has heard many complaints about his lifestyle. Sometimes it’s in the form of Jean criticizing the way he handles certain intel, or the way he ostensibly slacks on the job. Other times, it’s in the form of rumors that he’s especially privy to; Captain Kaeya who loves his drink a little too much, or Captain Kaeya who uses underhanded methods to deal with threats to Mondstadt.
“We’re going furniture shopping at your earliest convenience!” you beam.
Yet you’re just referring to his apartment. What a miracle you are.
He sets the box he stole earlier down, humming thoughtfully. “Is it truly that horrid here?” (It is. He steps out every chance he gets, preferring a noisy tavern or your former place over whatever husk of a building Kaeya Alberich calls “home” these days.) “Yes. Minimalists shall never be forgiven.” “Well, I’d hate to be in your bad books.” Not once do you let him slip away during the unpacking process, practically shoving your trinkets and knickknacks into his hands for him to “make the call” about where they should live. You also sneak into his closet to try and scare him, but the jingle of one of his ornate belts catching on your person gives you away. He throws the doors open with a flourish. When you pout about him being no fun, he just slides in there with you, clicking his tongue and simpering about how you’re such a troublemaker. It’s quiet and you squint through the slits of the closet door at the surrounding bedroom. “Kaeya, I know what’s been missing!” you whisper-yell at him, head knocking against a hanging cape. 
You, he wants to say, It’s always been you. What comes out instead is your voice, effectively cutting him off. “An ugly vase!”
He can get behind that too. Maybe one day he’ll show his full hand, lay out every card, and wait for the swinging axe to take off his head - and maybe you’ll just pull him along to haggle with antique dealers in the name of ironic decoration. “You read my mind, sweetheart.”
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kohakhearts · 4 months ago
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goh parentified child syndrome. go(h)
my time is here at last. thank you for enabling me <3 apologies for taking months to finish writing this giant post!
welcome to my dissertation on this fucking Dynamic <3
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ok! first thing, let's establish our criteria for Parentified Child Syndrome. this is obviously not like, an actual diagnostic Thing, but there are a million and one articles out there for us to look through. so i did the tough work of scouring those to find some Symptoms we can use as anchor points here. a lot of this is split into "emotional" (parents seeking comfort from their children, rather than comforting them) vs. "material" (parents assigning their children responsibilities that are not age-appropriate (e.g. grocery shopping, paying bills, etc.)) needs, but for simplicity i'll just merge them together - because realistically, they often go hand-in-hand. so the primary symptoms we'll work with here will be:
disruptive childhood behaviours (particularly at school)
stress and anxiety
reluctance to participate in play/age-appropriate activities with their peers
difficulty acknowledging and accepting one's feelings
insecure attachment styles
need to feel "in control"
distrustful of others/self-reliant to a fault
absenteeism and poor performance in school
passive communication style
the other obvious prerequesite here is the family dynamic. so let's dissect that one a bit!
goh's family situation isn't actually like...100% clear. but i have analyzed every episode where his family is even mentioned like it's my full-time job and i have no reason to believe his grandmother actually lives with him. so in the scope of this essay, i am assuming that she lives nearby, and most likely has a key to the apartment, but does not live with them.
otherwise, we are given enough context to assume that camille and walker have been busy with work goh's entire life (though i'd choose to believe for my own sanity that in his infancy his mother at least wasn't working...though given the type of job she has, that's actually...kinda hard to say for sure). we can also assume that they've at least been self-employed for the majority of his life. it's clear that they are fairly well-established in the city/in their field by jn, and since goh is supposed to be 10 at this point, it makes sense to me that they've been building that company up pretty much his whole life.
in terms of the work they do, goh tells ash, my dad is a system engineer and my mom is a programmer. they run a company together. granted, we don't see very much of their actual workplace, but what we do see is completely void of other people. as in, camille and walker do all this work BY THEMSELVES.
nothing in the anime otherwise disputes this! if anything, goh's explanations of his parents' lifestyle just reinforces it. he also suggests that during periods of harsh weather and heavy system use, his parents are busier than usual. this implies that they are most busy during holidays. this is actually further implied by the flashback in jn015 where they explicitly say to him that they're sorry for having to work through the holiday. his reaction, being completely unengaged, not even really even acknowledging it, tells us that this is the norm.
however!! he also shows off a special device to horace in jn032 that he says his parents made specifically for him, to help him learn more about mew. this suggests that they must have some amount of free time to dedicate to him...but they show their love for him through material gifts related to their line of work (his computer set-up, too; he tells scorbunny that his parents set it all up for him).
otherwise, we see camille and walker privately share their concerns about goh (a clear awareness that he doesn't have many friends, concern about him being lonely because of them, etc.) but never actually confront goh with their concerns or appear to go out of their ways to do anything about it. i wrote a bit about this and the symbolism of having him catch a cubone of all pokemon in the episode we're introduced to his family here but the tl;dr is that camille and walker demonstrate care for goh to each other but not to him - presumably to compensate for their physical absence, we get the impression he's given a lot of freedom and little to no discipline.
which brings me to the first criterion:
disruptive childhood behaviours (with a side of absenteeism, which presumably contributes to poor performance in school)
goh's school life is obviously inconvienent to the plot progression, so for narrative purposes the writers have him just not go to school. in jn049 we get the explanation that goh had made a promise to their teacher to show up to school for tests...but the weird thing about this scene is that chloe's surprised by it:
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since in jn001 and jn002 we see that chloe is goh's only point of contact amongst his schoolmates and that she hand delivers schoolwork to him at her dad's lab, the only way this exchange really makes sense to me is if it's a new arrangement. even the fact that goh makes a point of saying "hey, i followed through, go me" to their teacher here gives that vibe.
so, we can extrapolate from that that...prior to whenever this agreement was made, goh just didn't go to school because he didn't want to. but given how schools operate, we can pretty safely assume his parents are aware of this. and i have strong reason to believe that they have at least been on the receiving end of phone calls from teachers or administrators, because of these lines from jn015:
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all things considered, this is a weird assumption to make, especially about your hyper-independent introverted child...unless there's a history of disruptive or unfriendly behaviour to inform that assumption. and based on goh's behaviour in jn001 at professor oak's pokemon camp, i don't think it's so out there to say the pattern probably was there.
goh is actually a super sweet kid towards his parents and has a clear admiration for them both. even in flashbacks, his whole thing is kind of like...he doesn't want to bother them. they fall asleep on family vacation and don't spend time with him? well, that's fine! he'll just find something else to do! in that same episode in the flashback sequence, they pick him up on the side of the road alone in the pouring rain and he doesn't say a word to them. even though he was angry and upset before.
so, yeah. i think it would make a lot of sense if he were well-behaved at home and not so much so at school. but camille and walker, even when they learn about things that happen, don't seem to probe or discipline him. whether because of any combination of giving him leeway out of guilt or of not wanting to encourage him to act out at home, we don't know. but the disconnect obviously exists.
which then contributes to
stress and anxiety, difficulty acknowleding and accepting one's feelings, and passive communication style
goh is socially awkward, yes, and clearly very anxious socially especially early on in jn, but a lot of that seems to come from an inability to express his wants and needs. i think jn003 has some of the most succinct examples of this - ash having to realize he's struggling and to reach down to him when they're climbing the tower in order for him to even accept that he can get (and needs) help getting up, and then later one when he stumbles over his words trying to ask ash to be his friend.
i think another good example is in jn007, after he gets knocked out at the flute cup. passive communication relies a lot on shifts in body language and in, well, passive statements. when ash approaches him to tell him to cheer up, goh doesn't actually really...respond to that. he does this
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and then runs off. which he does fairly often, actually, even as late as jn135. it's emotional avoidance 101. literally just run away from the thing that's bothering you. something else we see in jn135 is him backing out of admitting he wants to go on a journey - because he is concerned about ash's reaction (though i think it's a little more complex than that, but i'll circle back to that).
and of course there's jn062, which i wrote a lot about in this post. but the whole thesis of the episode is that goh has learned through his relationships up to this point that it's okay to not understand your feelings but you still have to feel them. and it's actually a really beautiful character development moment for him, but also reinforces the fact that he still doesn't know how to grapple with his own emotions. after finally finding drizzile and explaining how he knew he would find it there, he starts to cry and doesn't know why. but even aside from feeling vulnerable, it's kind of a culmination of this stress he's been carrying with him throughout the whole episode...and the sense of responsibility he feels for driving drizzile away. which is a great segue into
insecure attachment styles and need to feel "in control"
if there's one thing i feel like people sleep on regarding goh's character, it's how much of a mother hen he is. he's obviously very thorough and thoughtful when it comes to looking after his pokemon - as in jn062 where he spends all that time chasing down drizzile after it runs away, even to the point of telling ash and chloe that they should stay behind because it's getting late but that he's going to keep looking - but he's the same way with ash.
off the top of my head, things like buying extra scones because he knew ash would want them, making ash wash his hands after eating ice cream, chastising him about punctuality, you know...very parental kind of things. he actually does it with horace too, when they first meet, by bringing a lunch for them both when he goes back to the forest to meet him again.
anyway, being a Mom Friend is cute and all, but it also REEKS of parentified child. taking on responsibilities that aren't yours to fulfill? yeah. that's a need to feel in control. it's what he's used to! it offers him security!
the other side of this is...chloe. goh's first friend, who he refuses to consider a friend, or let consider him a friend. but, like, she obviously IS his friend. and yet our introduction to them gives us this exchange
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goh and chloe have a pretty tense relationship at the beginning of jn, wherein she is clearly trying to help him (by you know. getting his homework for him and shit) and he blows her off in a text message, which she complains is a repeating behaviour. chloe is obviously very loyal to him, even though he doesn't seem to repay the favour. again, there's a big disconnect here.
insecure attachments generally stem from anxiety over potential rejection and/or poor self-esteem cultivated in childhood based on parents’ emotional availability (or lack thereof) to their children. by keeping chloe an arm's distance away, goh keeps himself safe from the dangers of vulnerability, taught to him through childhood encounters with emotionally unavailable parents.
i'm not here to armchair diagnose (ok, who am i kidding, yeah i am), but i think goh's attachment style is anxious-avoidant. his clear avoidance of making friends, the multiple times we see him break off his friendship with ash only to minutes later be like "me and the bestie"...yeah, that's avoidance. but he does crave intimacy, arguably even more than he fears it.
hence why even though he knows ash would want him to journey on his own...he still convinces himself that actually telling ash that would be, as he calls it, a "betrayal of [their] friendship." my theory is that he's not concerned that ash will be upset - he's concerned that ash won't be upset enough. which is why when then ash turns it around on him and says he's going on a journey, goh gets upset and pushes him away. he does the exact same thing with horace when they're younger. just a complete 180 - he wronged me once, so he's the worst and i can't forgive him, ever.
the difference with chloe is that she actually takes care of him more than he takes care of her - which changes the dynamic from "i have to do everything to keep this person in my life, including suppressing my emotions for their sake" to "i cannot express to this person that i have needs and desires because they'll think i'm too much and they won't stick around if i do." which is primarily avoidant, but insecure attachment nonetheless.
this is extrapolation, but i think his relationship with chloe is so different because we are supposed to get the sense that they have a more familial dynamic. so, she's the one person he can't push away from him - but as he learned in his actual family dynamic, he also can't be too close to her. he doesn't want to be smothered; he doesn't want her to feel smothered by him. so they maintain a degree of separation that only begins to go away after her father begins literally housing and feeding him, thus integrating him and ash into their family in some honorary way.
which brings me to the last point, i guess, which is
reluctance to participate in age-appropriate activities with peers and self-reliant to a fault
these are, i think, the traits that jn is most blatantly attempting to better in goh throughout his arc. so i won't spend too long hashing it out, because i think these are things we all know he struggled with!
in flashbacks, we see him alone at school; during the first episode, at professor oak's camp, he is always physically distanced from the other kids and chloe even points out that he's basically doing professor oak's job at one point! he's not on the same level as the other kids and it's clear he doesn't want to be. when he meets horace, we see that it takes him some time to get comfortable enough with him to go explore the forest together and become friends.
he doesn't go to school, but that doesn't mean he isn't learning things - he becomes a very self-directed learner early on, from what he see. he's not just like...rotting in his room playing video games. he's studying and researching. the only times aside from with horace that we see him in a flashback doing something that isn't solitary is with pokemon - and even then, he's like...reciting their pokedex entries. his abra story at the end of jn is precipitated by him saying he was going through his dad's old pokedex (which is a whole other thing - this implies walker used to be a trainer, but neither of goh's parents seem to have pokemon...perhaps they're too busy with work to look after them? a theory for another time, i suppose, but it has undeniably being gnawing at my brain since that episode aired lol).
and of course, there's the fact that in jn062 he tells drizzile he was never comfortable with confiding in his parents or his grandmother...suggesting that he never confided in anyone, because we don't really get the sense from the whole "i don't NEED friends" exchange in jn001 that he considers chloe a reliable confidant, either.
the other place we see his flawed sense of self-reliance, aside from like...everywhere in the first 10 or so episodes, lol (something that is reflected pretty beautifully and symbolically in scorbunny's story, too!), is in project mew. he has to learn how to work in a team - and he clearly hates it. at this point he's found one person to rely on, but that already feels like too much. the raid battle with articuno is the most obvious example of this. he isn't good at being a leader, but he also isn't good at being a follower. because he's only ever been responsible for himself, and he doesn't trust anyone else to know how to direct him, but he also has no clue how to work within the parameters of a team.
i also want to say, as a final note, that i actually think this is all extremely intentional writing. obviously in the west we have a strong capitalism culture too, but the work culture in japan is very toxic (just google "japan work culture" and you can see right away how intense it is lol) and i'm not actually surprised at all that pokemon would make such a direct commentary on that - a lot of japanese kids could probably relate to goh and his emotionally absent, work-obsessed parents! they are clearly pretty well-off, but their dedication to work supercedes matters of home and family, because that's how it's supposed to be. as a result, goh admires them a lot for this dedication - but his arc is primarily about letting go of the "work" part of interacting with pokemon and learning how to have fun and make the most of his experiences. and i think that's a really lovely message for modern pokemon to be sending to kids :')
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hanhonymous · 4 months ago
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The Trainee’s workplace authenticity
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One of my favorite things about workplace TV shows is when the characters actually do work. AND when the details of such work are not only relatively accurate, but also essential to how the characters relate to themselves, the world and each other. So far, "The Trainee" is giving that to me in the first two episodes.
Having interned/been an assistant at a TV production company and later moving to entertainment journalism and managing interns/junior writers there, I can appreciate both Ryan's and Jane's POVs. Here's what I liked so far:
Good Pick's pink tube slide and movie theater seats in the lobby - A lot of these entertainment-adjacent companies take a cue from Silicon Valley and have this frivolous, frat-boy design aesthetic -- bean bag chairs, foosball tables, etc. I worked in an office that had a ping-pong table. The idea is to make it fun enough that people want to stay in the office and work longer, which isn't really all that great. You stop seeing that fun stuff after a while and just want to get home. That said, I'd love to work in a company with a fire pole in it, but that would be too much of a liability.
Ryan's fluke hiring - Baimon totally hearing what he wants to hear from Ryan in that sham interview is hilarious but sadly not all that unusual. What sucks is that this is unfair to the manager who then must work with the unqualified person, and unfair to that person hired also, who isn't the best fit for the position. I've been the person saddled by the unfortunate hire and have had to make do … and sometimes you can figure it out, but often you're left doing extra work to make up for their deficits. If it's just an intern, no problem -- they'll be gone in a few months. I felt Jane's pain!
Ryan's uncertainty & silence - That said, Ryan clearly wants to do well but is out of his depth since this was not even what he was learning in school. I remember the first day as a journalist for a small company where I kind of was on my own, and nobody told me what to do. I was like, "WTF??" Part of you doesn't want to ask questions lest you expose your imposter identity, but you're also wondering just how long you can do nothing before someone notices.
The printer always breaks down -- always. You get pretty good at troubleshooting everything until resorting to calling a technician
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Jane's prickly demeanor - The fact is that in any company, people who are competent can move up, but that doesn't automatically infuse them with good managerial skills. I think workshops, etc. are a must for anyone who gets promoted and suddenly have people reporting to them. Everyone can get frustrated when they're overwhelmed, so I do have some sympathy for Jane. He does have one skill that I think is essential to be a good manager: identifying and acknowledging the strengths of an employee. It really makes all the difference that he finally sees Ryan as an asset, not a hindrance.
Ryan's skills aren't that bad at all - As soon as Ryan tells his family that he's no help to anyone at work, he immediately shows five different ways how much he's relied on by his family. Yes, people who are competent, reliable and can anticipate needs (like how his sister needs to be reminded to charge the battery after using the camera) will be able to apply those skills to other situations and can go far. Ryan just needs to familiarize himself with the industry first in order to know how he can fill in the gaps. (I believe in being able to change careers and taking big pivots in life.)
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The interns banding together - OMG I remember sometimes just being unsupervised while trying to get a project together, and there is a strange bond you have being the youngest and least experienced. And you do have the most stupid conversations.
Being one cog in a bigger machine - I really appreciate how they show all the different departments that have to come together to make one project work -- especially when last-minute changes need to be implemented or a persnickety client has opinions. You complain, you worry, you put in extra late hours and have to make 11th-hour fixes -- but it's so satisfying to see it all come together. Shit goes down, and you fix it.
Hiring extras - The hiring of extras at Good Pick was different from what I've experienced. I actually have been an extra, and what I'm used to is being part of a company or agency that has you in their database, and then you get picked or cast by that company and sent to your gig. But that's in Hollywood and for TV shows & movies. It's probably different for ad houses or in Thailand, but I did like how they showed that it is still a casting process. There are deliberate decisions made, and certain looks sought out. I thought it was hilarious that Ryan's first thought for hiring the salaryman was to get an uncle from the same restaurant as the auntie. If he had his way, everyone in that restaurant would be hired for some gig or another.
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Ryan getting scammed by the extra - I was screaming at Ryan as soon as he offered to pay that scammer extra. Just … no, boy. You had to have known that was shady. BUT despite being duped, he was willing to think on his feet and try to solve a problem by being proactive, and that does happen. And so do mistakes. He just needs to calibrate his radar for what is OK. (I'm glad Jane saw that.) Ryan is lucky that it only cost him 1,000 baht for that lesson.
Extras must be on hand and wait - OK this is a scene in the preview for Episode 3, but I was so happy to see it: Extras in Hollywood actually cannot just spend 5 minutes or whatever to do their job, even if that's how much you see them onscreen. There's a ton of hurry up and wait on film sets, and so extras have to stay in Holding -- usually just a designated area with some chairs (sometimes you get tables) -- until you're needed. And production schedules never run on time, so it can be hours or even days. You're lucky if you're there long enough to get a meal, if the temperature is nice, if you're able to make friends with the others and if there's wifi. Sometimes you bring your own clothes for wardrobe based on what you're told, and sometimes the wardrobe department supplements your wardrobe with extra pieces to help complete a specific look. And yeah, you're not able to leave except for the bathroom, so Ryan definitely shouldn't have let that one extra wander off.
"Ryan After Work" - I like these post-credit sequences that give extra insights into the job. And while the first one was more instructional, explaining how the production house differed from an agency, the second was more about the cohort camaraderie (and hinting at Ryan's positive feelings toward Jane). I hope the romance aspect of the show doesn't overshadow the work specificity going forward!
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1863-project · 1 year ago
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I've been thinking a lot lately about my experiences as an autistic adult and how difficult certain things actually have been for me, and one of the things that really hit me recently was how I can tell the patrons at the library I work at are judging me. They say things to me they'd never say to my co-workers, because my co-workers seem "normal" to them. But I can think of two different cases in the last year or so that really stand out to me that illustrate this.
The first was a patron who wanted the writing address of the governor of New Hampshire. I found it and went to write it down for her. She didn't want it that way, she wanted it printed. Of course, Wikipedia wasn't going to print well, and she was starting to get difficult about it, so I came up with a solution - I'd type it into a Word document and print it for her. I was excited that I'd come up with something, and I enthusiastically expressed this excitement by raising the volume of my voice. She decided I was "weird," told me so to my face, and left instead of letting me help her.
More recently, I showed similar excitement when showing a patron how to use Google Maps, excitedly reassuring her that we'd do it together and that I wasn't going to just tell her to do something she didn't know how to do. This patron told me my enthusiasm made me seem "like a schoolgirl." I deflated immediately, pointed out I was actually 34 years old, and did everything else with an extremely dampened mood.
Being an autistic adult in the workplace - or anywhere - is an uncomfortable experience. The first patron decided I was scary. The second patron infantilized me. The dichotomy of being an autistic adult is that some people decide you're uncanny and scary and some people decide you're actually a child. Both are microaggressions. Both are ableism. The third option is, of course, to mask so well they can't tell, and then get told "But you don't seem autistic!" when you drop the big reveal on them (if you do). There's no winning here.
I think, often, of Ingo and Emmet, autistic adults who, like me, are in the workplace, are really good at their jobs and take them seriously, and are really enthusiastic about what they do. I think about what sorts of things people must say to them, about the judgment they likely experience from passengers and trainers. I think about how gratifying it must be for them to repeatedly face trainers like Hilda, who only cares about battling and not who she's up against, because in those moments there's no judgment, just Pokemon battles. Just as my regular patrons who know me and are okay with me are a comfort to me, so too must their returning trainers be one to them, a beacon of acceptance in a world that refuses to understand.
I think sometimes about how I can't go into the tags for these characters that are just like me, because there's content that treats them the way the real world treats me. It isn't all of the things people make, but it's enough that I can't take the chance of looking myself, because you never know. It's been this way since 2010, and it shows no signs of stopping. I think about how all fandoms have this problem, about how many people experience this, and it hurts deep in my chest. I wish desperately for a kinder world in which people like me aren't treated as "weird" because we're enthusiastic about work, because we don't have volume control, because we can't mask, because we're not like most people.
I do what I've always done - I generally just talk about the things I like with trusted friends who also like the things I like. It's safer that way. I don't have to worry about stumbling upon the things I already experience in real life. If my friends find something safe, they bring it to me, a wonderful show of kindness and affection that I am always deeply grateful for.
I just wish I lived in a world that thought about how things affect people more, about how a respectful portrayal can give someone hope and help them love the person in the mirror. But every "unhinged" or "scary" depiction of normal autistic traits reminds me how far we still have to go, how Autism Speaks and other hate groups still dominate the narrative even as they fade into the background.
Everyone can do what they want in fandom, but it's supposed to be an inclusive space, not an alienating one, and I think it's good to be thoughtful. You never know who you may be helping or hurting.
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fayes-fics · 1 year ago
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A Job Well Done
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU
Summary: Quickie, office sex after being reunited.
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, quickie vaginal sex, office sex, semi-public sex, workplace sex, exhibitionism.
Word Count: 1.5k
Authors Note: Request fill for Anon (ask HERE) who wanted quickie office sex with Benedict. This is lighthearted, almost crack in places tbh. Unbetaed. Thanks to my discord peeps for help with some ideas for this one. Enjoy <3
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You barely make it through the door into the fancy corner office before clothing is wrenched open, both so desperate. You’ve been away on a business trip for two weeks, but it feels like two months. 
“Fuck, I missed you,” his words hiss on your lips as your kisses land wet and hot, open mouths just taking from each other.
“I missed you too,” you can barely gasp, fighting off your knickers under your skirt.
“Shouldn’t we wait until we can go to one of our places after work?” he checks.
“No, here,” you insist and back yourself against the wall, pulling him by the open fly right into you, moaning at the crush of his chest against yours.
“Really?” he sounds disbelieving, even as you roughly yank down the front of his underwear and shimmy it down his hips along with his trousers.
“Yes, really. Just make it quick,” you confirm, wiggling your skirt up around your waist, revelling in his groan as you grab his cock and pump it in your hand, standing on tiptoe to line him up with your aching pussy. 
He splutters the most adorable noise as his hot tip slides inside you, and you groan loudly in his ear.
“Say you are going to fuck me til I can't walk straight,” you command through gritted teeth.
“Okay… that,” he stumbles, still slightly stunned by the speed and ferocity this is happening at.
“Say it!” you demand.
“You already did!”
You grab his face and make him look into your eyes. “Ben. I need you to say the filthiest things to me. I'm so horny, please; don't be embarrassed.”
“We are at work! Isn't it enough we are doing this in full view of London and its recently arrived visitors!?” his voice slightly incredulous, gesturing vaguely at the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the crowds pouring out of St Pancras International a couple of storeys below.
“The glass is mostly reflective; they can probably barely see us,” you dismiss, hands grabbing his bottom and sinking fully onto his cock. “Fuck yesssss!” you hiss, eyes rolling back at the sheer delight of being so filled again.
“Is this revenge?” he exhales raggedly, a hand heavy on your hip as he adjusts to your heated cling. “Fucking in Ant’s office? Cos your PA told you he fucked Kate in yours?”
“Maybe,” you look askance, feeling called out but still pushing up onto tiptoes and sinking back down again as he groans with you.
His face morphs into a crooked grin, and his tone changes. “Well, why didn't you say before?” his voice turning into a velvet rumble. 
You gasp as he grabs one of your legs, hooks it over his arm and proceeds to take control just as you wanted. You moan your appreciation as he immediately starts to slam into you. You make a quick mental note that family oneupmanship is apparently an excellent motivator for him before you lose all capacity for thought.
If HR ever finds out about this, an executive fucking a junior colleague, there will probably be trouble—so it's a good thing HR reports to you. You co-founded this business with Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and have run it successfully together for the last five years. Three months ago, Anthony brought his younger brother into the firm in a decidedly nepotistic hire of in-house graphic designer after his art business stalled. You fought Anthony about the optics of it until about three seconds after you clapped eyes on one Benedict Bridgerton. And then, well, you agreed your company definitely needs someone to design PowerPoint templates or whatever he does. You resisted flirting with him for precisely two weeks, just enjoying his arse walking up and down the corridors every day doing fuck knows what.
But then it was the work party, and honestly, who can be held responsible when Anthony manages to score a whisky sponsorship? You'd be a lousy co-founder if you didn't indulge, frankly. And so you did. And you proceeded to flirt outrageously until Benedict took you up to the roof terrace and had you screaming at the London skyline. Since then, well, you've been together at every opportunity. It's especially thrilling that Anthony doesn't have a damn clue about it, either.
“I'm going to fuck you til you can't walk straight,” he growls, just as you wanted, slamming into you so hard your bra strap catches on the textured wall through your shirt.
“Oh fuck yes,” you mewl your appreciation, tipping forward to bite his neck, not entirely gently, until he hisses and moves faster.
Then, as if he can read your mind, still buried inside you, he suddenly picks you up, spins around, and almost throws you down onto Ant’s glass desk, never leaving your body.
“Oh, you fucking genius,” you compliment, grabbing his shirt greedily and pulling him on top of you, uncaring that you are sending Ant’s stationery and fancy tchotchkes flying. Your mouths meet in an artless, hot-breathed kiss, and then he starts to move again, wrapping your legs around his hips and standing up to drive into you hard.
You start to yell his name and all the praise you can think of, knowing Ant’s office is soundproofed like yours. His cock drags all the places inside that turn off your brain, not capable of anything but chasing more and now and more again. 
“Not so sure the glass is particularly reflective, by the way,” he states almost casually as he keeps pounding into you. “Pretty sure we are drawing a crowd.”
“Then fuck me really good,” is your only breathy response, unwilling to tip your head back and look down at the people below. At least at this angle, they shouldn’t be able to see his cock ploughing into you. And everything else is covered by clothing… mostly. You could just be having a very vigorous wrestling match. Kind of.
“Exhibitionist, hmm?” he hums, leaning over you and kissing down your neck.
“You’re the one who took me on the roof terrace our first time,” you point out, closing your eyes and enjoying the slide of his warm lips on your skin as he thrusts so deep you swear you’ll still feel it tomorrow.
“Guilty as charged,” he murmurs, bemused, a little out of breath now, his tongue lathing hot on your throat.
Then, there’s no talking for a while as you skate closer to your peaks. Desperate hands grab bodies and table edges, growling and moans, hot wet kisses, the sturdy glass desk withstanding his harsh strokes even as your whole body rolls on the surface. 
Then, with a dangerous smirk, he winds a hand between your bodies and flicks his thumb against your clit, and you scream. It’s the little extra sensation you need to break, calling his name, your nails scratching down his clothes, biceps clinging to him as your pussy clenches hard around him, floating somewhere on a blissful cloud, eyes screwed shut, as he growls at your vice-like grip on his cock. A few artless thrusts, and then he is stilling, groaning loudly in your ear and collapsing on top of you as he spills inside.
After a few panted moments, you feel yourself returning to the room, the power of speech returning.
“Oh god, that was just what I needed,” you huff, sated, a fuzzy, languid, bone-deep satisfaction only he can seem to provide. 
“You are welcome, boss,” he sasses with a playful smirk.
“You don’t report to me,” you point out, swatting his arm gently.
“Shame… I think I’d get an excellent review and a hefty raise if I did,” he gloats a little, dropping a quick kiss on your lips.
“I will neither confirm nor deny,” you volley back, pushing him off your body and standing up, shuffling your skirt back down your legs. 
You feel a little unsteady in your gait as you dip down to collect your underwear from the floor.
“There are, however, two things you can do for me?” you smile as he rezips.
“Anything…” 
“Tidy your brother's desk,” you nod towards the mess. He rolls his eyes, accepting his fate, seeing as it was his decision to throw you upon it.
“And?” He prompts you for the second thing as you make final adjustments to your appearance.
“Be naked in my bed by the time I get home,” you breeze as you reach for the office door handle. “Feel free to tie yourself spread eagle to the bedposts if you’re feeling adventurous,” you end with a wink.
“How exactly am I supposed to do that with only one set of hands?” you hear him call after you as the door closes behind you.
With a huge grin, you saunter down the corridor, phone in hand, already texting him a reply.
Y/N: You’ll figure it out. You’re the artist, after all.
BB: I’m a landscape painting artist, not an escape artist.
Y/N: potayto, potatoh…
BB: I’m getting a round of applause from what looks like a stag do outside, by the way…
Y/N: See? There’s your glowing performance review. 
BB: … 🤷‍♂️
Y/N: 😘
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb
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teejaystumbles · 7 months ago
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Against all odds (part 7)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6
This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3
**
Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…
Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.
With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.
In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.
June 15th, 1989
Dear friend,
I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)
But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.
Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.
I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?
Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate. 
I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.
I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?
I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P
Stay safe,
Your friend Hob
Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.
He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.
Part 8
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