#I just Like To Bitch and would like a story that's easy to follow and more accessible and CLEAR ABOUT WHATS GOING ON
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wuxian-vs-wangji · 5 months ago
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Yeah... I remember seeing the architectural design majors at my uni having this breakdown each semester...
#love in the air#lita#rain#scriptwriting was the only course within my major famous for making people openly cry#because the professor would eviscerate you with her feedback#not to be mean; but she would look at the feedback you'd already been given by your classmates over and over throughout the course#and if you still hadn't fixed issues she'd really stab into them and rip you apart#she liked me though- i followed the syllabus due dates and no one else did#meaning day 1 i already had a treatment ready by the first class#and even though she told me the syllabus schedule didn't need to be followed; i chose to follow it#because it kept me a week ahead or so#So when I finished each 200+ page draft of my script I was finishing it a week early#which let me focus on other exams in other classes and manage my workload more easily#the only time scriptwriting made me cry was when i spent 6 hours typing draft 6 of a 214 page feature and my computer crashed#erased the whole thing#i'd been typing up the script based on hand notes i'd written on my previous draft so it was easy to recreate#but redoing it took 8 hours since my hands were so tired#but that wasn't the classes fault; that was my fault#i did really well in the class; you just can't take feedback personally and a lot of writers really struggle with that#i've lost so many friends because they claim to be writers who take feedback seriously#and then it turns out they're little bitches about it and throw tantrums after begging me to give them feedback#so now I will not give a friend feedback on anything they write#for the record- the way i was trained is not to be cruel or mean#you literally just go through it like 'here is what I had issues with as a viewer and here are some ideas on how to easily fix that'#always offer a solution#and for every complaint you have to give a complementt#so i'm not out there like gordon ramsey ripping into people; it's very gentle and kind#except when i gave M her round 6 feedback on her script and she STILL insisted Mt Everest was 3 billion years old in her story#AT EVERY STAGE OF THIS SCRIPT I REMINDED YOU IT IS AROUND 30 MILLION YEARS OLD GET IT THROUGH YOUR-
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foxy-eva · 9 days ago
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Warm Embrace
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Summary: Spencer and his wife explore ways to be intimate with each other after a traumatic event
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Please read the CW, this story contains potentially triggering topics! 
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) referenced past SA of Reader (non-graphic), implied flashbacks, trauma related sexual problems, conversations about sex and intimacy, nudity, kissing, mutual masturbation, handjob, thigh riding
Word count: 5.4k
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“Spencer?” Your voice echoed through the apartment when you stepped through the door and found no sign of your husband. 
A distant sound came from the bathroom. “In here!” 
After a quiet knock on the door and his confirmation that you could step in, you found Spencer sitting in the bathtub. The room was filled with the lavender scent of the bath soap and what you could see of his body was covered in bubbles. It almost looked comical how his knees stuck out of the water, making it obvious that the tub was not big enough to accommodate his long limbs. 
“I was too tired to take a shower,” he explained after discovering your curious expression. 
“I can see that,” you laughed. “I thought you hated taking baths.”
“Honestly, I think I’m starting to understand why you like them so much. This isn't too bad.”
You stood there for a few moments, smiling at the sight in front of you. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, you slowly began shedding your clothes. 
“Mind if I join you?” you wondered. 
Nothing about this situation would be unusual for any other married couple. Just a few months ago neither of you would have questioned your actions. Back then initiating any form of intimacy with each other felt natural and familiar. 
Things were different now, though. 
Spencer cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Are you sure about this?”
There was a reason to ask. For the past months any attempt to get close to each other resulted in you crying for the rest of the night. Something as simple as him placing his hand on your thigh was enough to startle you. 
A sigh rolled over your lips as you dropped your shirt to the floor. “No,” you confessed. “But I miss you.”
“I’m right here,” he reminded you.
That was not what you meant and he knew that. Of course he understood the meaning of your words. Spencer was well aware of the fact that ever since that son of a bitch hurt you, you fought a constant battle between wanting his nearness and pushing him away. 
Your husband gave you the space you needed and was there to hold you whenever you’d let him. It couldn't have been easy for him either but he never once complained about this new reality you had a live. 
A reality where that person took something from you that you’d never get back. It was hard to shake this feeling of being tainted after having your physical integrity stripped away like that. You were distant and closed off when it came to intimacy, despite your best efforts to get back to what once was normal. It had been months since Spencer even saw you unclothed.
That was about to change. 
Slowly, you pulled down your pants before reaching back to undo your bra. Spencer's sight followed the piece of clothing as it dropped to the floor before settling on your face again. 
“Stop profiling me,” you warned him with a playful undertone in your voice. 
“Sorry, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
By pulling down your panties, you shed your last piece of clothing, leaving you completely bare in front of your husband. It was a strange feeling to reveal yourself to him. It felt new yet familiar to allow him to see you. 
However, he didn't dare to look, even when you approached the tub. It wasn't clear whether he just tried to be respectful or if seeing you like this for the first time after months was too much for him to bear. His reaction reminded you that he never answered your question about you joining him. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t okay with this. 
Spencer’s eyes widened as he noticed the change of your mood before you did. Within a split second your heart started pounding and you stepped back to reach for your bathrobe. 
“Sorry, this was a stupid idea,” you muttered as you turned around to shield your body from his sight and your heart from the rejection. 
“My love,” he cooed from behind you.
The sound of splashing water gave away that he was exiting the tub. From the corner of your eyes you saw how he reached for his own robe. 
You felt his presence behind you. “Can I touch you?”
You nodded as you turned around, finding him wrapped in his robe with water still dripping from his jawline. Spencer reached out his hands to pull you into his arms. 
“What just happened?” He wondered, his voice laced with concern. 
Before you could think about it, you mumbled, “You didn't want to look at me.”
Your husband thought about your words for a moment, replaying the scene that had just unfolded in his mind. What you said wasn’t true. He wanted to look at you, to admire you fully like he had done countless times before. 
“I was afraid it would make you uncomfortable,” he confessed as he pulled back to be able to find your eyes. 
It was hard to read your expression which was not surprising considering you were mostly confused about your current state yourself.
“I miss the way you used to look at my body. I miss being close to you,” you whispered and paused for a moment. “I miss… sex.”
He closed his eyes before placing an innocent kiss on your forehead. “I know,” he breathed. Me too, he thought.
“Do you still think about it?” You wanted to know. 
“Sex?” 
Nodding, you watched his facial features intently. Ever since your attack, there were many occasions when the two of you had tiptoed around this subject. But never before had you been so blunt about it. 
It seemed like he was looking for the right words. “Yes, I do,” was what he settled on.
Raising your eyebrows, you asked, “With me?” 
The insecurity in your question wasn’t lost on Spencer but he still couldn't hold back a breathy laugh. “Of course, silly girl. You're my wife.”
“It’s just been so long that I would understand if you ever thought about doing it with someone else.”
“Stop that right now,” he said with a firm yet loving tone. “I would never cheat on you.” 
A shaky breath escaped your throat before you dared to say what had been bugging you for weeks now. “What if I’ll never be ready? What if things won’t ever be like before?” 
“That would be okay, too,” he reassured you. “There are many ways to create nearness and intimacy. Sex is just one way but it’s not necessary. At least for me it’s not.” 
“So you’d be okay to live without sex?” 
“Before I met you I thought that was my only option,” he quipped. 
You knew there had been a handful of women before you but you appreciated his joke nonetheless. It made you smile. 
Spencer let his fingertips brush over your cheeks. “But to answer your question, yes, I would be okay with that.”
His words were genuine. The way he looked at you with the most loving expression made your heart jump. The amber of his irises radiated a warmth you could get drunk on. You nestled your head against his chest and he held you even closer against his body. He was right. Sex wasn’t necessary to create nearness. However, you were still curious about what else you felt safe enough to try. 
“I want to get into the bathtub with you,” you whispered. “And I want you to look at me.” 
Loosening the embrace, you looked at your husband. With a nod he confirmed that he wanted that, too. 
With shaking fingers you brushed over his robe before gripping the material. “And I want to see you, too.”
Together you helped each other out of your robes until you stood bare in front of each other. You took a moment to admire the man in front of you. It had been a while since you had seen him like that. Unlike you he didn't deliberately hide his body from your sight but there hadn’t been many occasions in the past few months that allowed you to see him unclothed. 
His body looked familiar yet different at the same time. His tummy was a little bit softer than you remembered and you imagined what it would feel like underneath your palm. 
Spencer dared to let his eyes drop down to take in every inch of skin within sight. The way he looked at you made your skin tingle and you noticed how it broke out in goosebumps. 
“You're so beautiful,” he purred as he tentatively brushed over your arms. 
Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss on his lips before breathing against them, “So are you.”
He took your hand in his to walk you over to the bathtub. Your husband got in first, bending his knees in an attempt to make himself smaller than he was. There was enough space to join him, a relieved sigh falling from your lips when you felt the warm water enveloping your body. 
First you sat a little awkwardly opposite one another for a few moments before you felt confident enough to get closer. Gently, you placed your hands on his knees to part them before moving closer to lean against his body sitting between his legs. Spencer’s heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage as you nestled against his chest. 
“Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure. 
“Yeah, I uh… I’m not sure where to put my hands,” he chuckled and you noticed how they hovered above the edge of the bathtub. 
Taking his hands in yours, you guided them towards the water, placing them underneath your chest. Even though you expected his touch, you still jerked when you felt his palms make contact with your body. 
Instinctively, your husband wanted to retract his hands again but you held them still with your own palms pressed against them. Once the initial shock faded, you were certain that you wanted to be held exactly like that. 
A part of you still wanted to fight this vulnerable situation but a much bigger, much more confident part longed to be close to the love of your life. 
It was as if Spencer sensed your ambiguity. “You okay?” 
“Yes,” you confirmed. Then you thought about the way your body flinched when he touched you. It had happened before each time Spencer had touched you in places that he had touched, too. “I just feel like my body has to relearn a couple of things.”
Spencer nodded before finally being able to relax a bit. He leaned back while holding you against him, relishing the sensation of having you close without any barriers between you. Just for a moment he forgot about what had happened to you and to your own surprise, so did you. 
For the following weeks you made it a new habit to take baths with each other. There was something so sweet about getting clean together, it became a sacred ritual you wanted to repeat over and over. 
Slowly but surely you got more comfortable around Spencer. There was a time when you didn't think it was possible that the two of you would cuddle every night and every morning without constantly having to fear that you’d freak out at any given moment. 
But just like that it happened. Spencer didn't have to think twice about hugging you from behind and leaving a feather-light kiss on your neck. He didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms when he woke up before you. 
He did however wake up in shock and almost jumped out of bed when one morning he realized he had sleepily pressed his erection against your thigh. Having woken up before him, you had noticed it, too. You could have easily moved away but found no reason to do so.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured as he moved away from you, his voice still sounding raspy from his slumber.
“You don’t have to apologize for that, Spencer. I know basic biology,” you snickered. “Now come back here.”
Hesitantly, he moved back towards your open arms. The warmth you radiated was too hard to resist so it took very little convincing for him to find his place inside your embrace again. 
Gentle fingertips danced along his arms, making him hum in contentment. It had always amazed you how his skin felt so particularly soft and tender in the morning. His curls hung unruly from his head and you couldn't resist intertwining your fingers with them. 
You thought back to the many times you had woken up like this. Back then when it still was normal for your hands to become curious enough to explore every curve and dip of each other’s bodies. 
It was odd to think about before. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime away, other times it felt like nothing had ever changed. It made you feel like the man who hurt you had the power to bring a new time reckoning upon you. You didn't want him to. 
It only spurred you further on to fully reclaim your body again. 
Your fingers found Spencer’s jaw to tilt his head just enough for you to be able to kiss him. His lips felt so soft as he slowly reciprocated your actions. It was sweet and innocent at first but your desire to feel more of him only grew the longer you kissed. Slightly shifting your leg you could feel his hardness again, making him whimper at the sudden pressure against it. 
As your hand found its way under his shirt, you brushed over the softness of his tummy. Shaking fingertips followed the trail of hair leading further down before changing their direction and moving upwards to feel his chest. The beating of his heart was faster than usual, almost erratic. 
With cautious motions he mirrored your eagerness and let his palm wander beneath your shirt as well. You deepened the kiss when you felt his fingers wander over your waist, leaving goosebumps on their path. Spencer became hungry, almost desperate as his tongue brushed over yours, melting into you in a way he hadn’t for too long. 
It was what you longed for too, what you had been hoping to finally be ready for. 
Then he touched your breast and it all came crashing down again. 
“Stop!” 
Healing really wasn’t linear. 
In an instant Spencer retracted his hand and leaned back to give you some space. Widened eyes looked back at him and it took both of you a second to realize what had just happened. Before he could apologize, you did. 
“I’m sorry… I really thought I was okay with that.”
For a moment Spencer closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he looked at you again, a soft expression on his face. “Please don’t ever feel the need to apologize for that,” he cooed. 
Unlike other times, you were able to calm down quickly. Instead of pushing your husband further away, you still yearned for his proximity. He seemed surprised when you moved closer to him again to lay your head down on his chest. Content to still have the privilege to hold you close, he wrapped his arms around you before a relieved sigh fell from his lips. 
There was no need to leave the comfort of your shared bed just yet, so you just lay there together, basking in each other’s warmth. 
Spencer placed a gentle kiss into your hair before breathing, “I love you.” 
“I love you more.”
You tried your best to be kind to yourself in that moment. It was a learning opportunity for you. Just a few weeks ago lying close to your husband like that was unthinkable. Even if they felt like baby steps at the time, it was still progress. 
The images of recent intimate encounters flooded your mind and let a pleasant calmness spread through your body. Spencer’s kisses tasted sweet and made you feel insatiable, always longing for more. Feeling his skin pressed against yours as he held you close in the bathtub enveloped you in a safe feeling unlike anything else. 
You thought back to those rare moments when you considered taking things further lately, just like you had tried just now. There was something you had wondered about. 
“I have noticed that when we cuddle…,” you began your sentence, unsure of how to continue. “Even when we’re naked in the bathtub together, you uhm… never get aroused? That was very different before.” 
Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he let out an awkward laugh. “I try really hard not to. I think about baseball a lot.” 
His response confused you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raised your eyebrows at him. “You think about baseball when we’re taking baths together? You don’t even like sports.” 
Spencer just shrugged and added, “Sometimes I try to solve equations, too.”
“Please don’t do that anymore,” you pleaded as you laid back down beside him. “It makes me feel good to see you’re still interested in me.” 
“Of course I am still interested. I just really do not want to make you uncomfortable or feel pressured in any way.”
Your words were genuine when you said, “I don’t think that will happen. I actually really liked seeing you in all of your morning glory earlier.”
Your husband smiled at you. “Yeah?”
A smirk formed on your face. “It reminded me of the countless times we were both late for work because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves after waking up.” 
“That was fun,” Spencer chuckled. “What wasn’t fun though was the conversation I had to have with Hotch after being late four days in a row.” 
His words made you laugh, too. Then, after a few moments of comfortable silence, your husband hesitantly asked, “Can I ask you something?” 
Tilting your head to find his eyes, you responded, “Of course.”
“You don’t have to answer this but I’m wondering… Do you ever get aroused in those moments, too?” 
You were used to talking openly about intimacy with your husband, that had always been a normal part of your relationship. His question didn't feel odd and you wanted to respond to it. 
For a long time after what happened, your longing to feel his nearness wasn’t connected to any sexual desires. At times you even felt like your libido had gotten lost entirely. Recently that had changed. 
More and more you had become aware of the little spark inside you that was ignited when you were with him. It was very different from the burning flame that was there before but your desire grew each time you were together. 
“Lately, yes,” you sincerely answered. Thinking about it some more, you decided to share another detail with him. “I even started uhm… touching myself again.”
Spencer seemed a little surprised by your response. “You did? That's good to hear.” His palm brushed gently over your arm when he added, “I can imagine that's a good way to feel a connection to your body and your needs.” 
For a second you thought he might start one of his ramblings to share all his knowledge about the health benefits of masturbating. He didn't, though. 
“Yeah, it feels nice. Almost normal,” you said instead. “I obviously still have a long way to go when it comes to sex but… I finally feel like I’ll actually get there, eventually.”
“There's no rush,” he reminded you. “We have all the time in the world.” 
Your lips met his in a tender kiss. “Thank you for being so patient with me.” 
After a few more moments of enjoying each other's company, it was time to get up and get ready for the workday. That night you found yourself tangled up in bed with your husband again. 
As you breathed in his scent and felt the heat radiating off his skin, you noticed it again – the little spark inside your chest flared up and spread a tingling sensation through your body. 
Your mouth found Spencer's neck to leave a trail of kisses along it, before it moved over his jawline and found his lips at last. He hummed when you kissed him and you could feel his fingertips twitching against your waist. 
It didn't take long until you deepened the kiss, a quiet moan slipping through your lips when Spencer’s tongue found yours. 
With your body pressed against his you didn't allow any distance between the two of you. It still wasn’t enough for you, though. There was too much fabric in the way of really feeling close to him. 
Your hand moved to the hem of his shirt to grip it and impatiently push it upwards. Spencer moved with you as you pulled it over his head. When your fingers moved to the waistband of his pajama pants next, he interrupted the kiss to find your eyes. 
A smile was painted over your face when you nodded, reassuring him that you were okay. You weren’t sure yet where exactly this was going but you felt safe enough to explore your options.
“We can stop or slow down at any point,” he reminded you.
“I know.”
After kissing him again, you sat up so you could continue undressing him. Slowly you pulled down his pants, an audible breath falling from your lips when you saw he was already half-hard. 
Spencer scanned your face for any sign of discomfort but found none. What he saw instead was excitement and curiosity. It made him smile. 
He sat up and brushed his hands over the fabric of your shirt. By lifting your arms over your head you gave him the sign he needed to remove the piece of fabric. He gently motioned for you to lay back down before he made contact with your hips, carefully brushing over your pajama shorts. 
There was no hesitation to be found when you lifted your hips for him to pull them down, without ever breaking eye contact. You thought about how different this situation was from being naked with him in the bathtub. Some parts of you remained hidden from him even then. 
You wanted him to see you, even when being exposed to him like that still felt a little scary.
After he had dropped the last piece of clothing on the floor, you dared to open your thighs for him to see every part of you. A rosy shade spread over his cheeks as he dared to look at you. It reminded you of when you were with him for the very first time many years ago. 
Just like then, he breathed, “You're so beautiful.” 
You could feel how some arousal had already gathered at your center and wondered if Spencer could see the glistening. By the way his pupils dilated you had a hunch that he did. 
Then, after he had fully taken in your beauty, it was as if he was frozen in place. He used to be so confident in situations like that, knowing your body better than his own and never questioning his next move. Things were very different now and you both sensed it. 
His eyes met yours and it became obvious how unsure he was of how to proceed. 
Opening your arms, you cooed, “Come here, love.” 
He seemed relieved when he lay back down beside you again. You wanted to kiss him but he hesitated. 
After a moment, he suggested, “I think it would be helpful if you talked to me more. I need you to tell me exactly what you want to do.”
“I’m figuring this out as we go, too,” you explained. “Right now I don't know where this is going. I only know that I really want to kiss you.”
His nose brushed against yours. “I would really like that, too.”
Just a split second later you got lost in another kiss. The way your bodies were pressed against one another while your lips were connected let you briefly forget where your body ended and his began. After shifting your position, you became well aware of that again. 
Spencer was fully hard now and his erection was firmly pressed against your thigh. You moved your leg slightly, prompting him to whimper into your mouth. The hand on your waist moved down to your hip and his fingertips pressed into your skin. 
“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. “Can we slow down for a moment?” 
His grip on your hip lightened immediately before he moved his hand back up to your waist. Spencer placed one last peck on your mouth and pulled back. “Do you want to stop?” 
You shook your head. “No, I just need a little break. To make sure it doesn't get too much.” 
The truth was that you felt really good in that moment. Excited, loved and so, so turned on. It just felt safer to take things slowly. Gently you pushed against his shoulder until he was lying on his back. You found your home inside his arms. 
Your lips grazed over his cheek as you breathed, “How are you feeling, Spencer?” 
He chuckled at your question. “You have no idea how good I’m feeling right now.” 
As you let your head rest on his shoulder, you dared to look down at his body. The extent of his desire laid on his stomach and you noticed how a bead of precum had formed at his tip. Your fingers itched to touch him, to remember how hot and heavy his cock always felt inside your palm. 
A curious hand made its way down his chest, over the side of his stomach, brushing along his thigh. For a second you hesitated but then you let your palm hover over his hardness. 
Then you felt a pit form in your stomach and decided to retract your hand again. It might have just been your nervousness but that didn't change the fact that you couldn't continue in this moment. 
Your husband had watched each of your motions intently. It was obvious that he was burning to find relief. 
Tilting your head to find his eyes, you purred, “I want you to feel good.”
“It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to,” he reminded you.
You knew that, of course. There was still something else you could do together. 
As you began kissing his neck, his throat vibrated under your lips and a moan escaped his mouth. Then, you whispered into his ear, “I want you to touch yourself.”
Spencer’s eyes widened at your request and the rosy color on his cheeks turned a shade darker. It seemed like he needed a little more encouragement, so you lay back down inside his arm and opened your legs to give yourself access. 
“Okay, I’ll start,” you teased as you let your hand wander down your own body. 
Mesmerized by the sight, his eyes followed the path of your fingers. When you parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot, Spencer hissed a curse. 
The honeyed wetness between your legs made it easy for your fingertips to move through your folds. It felt relieving to touch yourself like that. Just like Spencer you were yearning for release. 
When your husband heard your heavy sighs as you pleasured yourself, he couldn't hold back anymore. You watched as his hand found his cock, a view that let your heart pound inside your chest. 
First, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and squeezed, prompting droplets of his arousal to run down his tip. Then, he swiped his thumb over the leaking head before he slowly began moving up and down. Your mouth hung open as you watched that sinful scene unfold in front of you. 
As Spencer accelerated the pace of his fist, sounds of pleasure filled the room. His eyebrows were scrunched up and desperation was written all over his face. 
He had never looked more beautiful.
Distracted by the mesmerizing view, the hand at your core stopped moving. Instead of continuing, you let it wander away from your body to touch Spencer’s thigh. Before you could overthink it, your hand kept moving to his center. 
A heavy breath fell from his lips as your fingertips cautiously brushed over the velvety skin of his balls, making his body jerk underneath you. Smiling to yourself, you remembered how sensitive he was. 
Spencer stopped moving his hand, waiting to see how you’d proceed. When you touched the soft curls at his base, he whimpered. It was then that you realized that you were not scared anymore and that your nervousness had turned into excitement. 
“Can I continue?”
Spencer audibly gulped before removing his hand. “Yes… please.” 
When you wrapped your fingers around his length, both of you moaned in unison. Holding him in your hand like that felt both familiar and novel at the same time. You started moving your palm and quickly remembered how exactly he liked to be touched. 
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feels good!” 
With all the built-up tension and those months of abstinence, it only took a few moments until Spencer was getting close to reaching his point of no return. Familiar with all the telltale signs of his impending climax, you continued caressing him. Coming closer to his undoing, his cock twitched inside your palm and his entire body started quivering. 
His release began spilling over your hand and onto his stomach while he kept pulsing against your fingers. You kissed his jaw and his neck before you reached for the tissues on your nightstand to do some damage control of the mess you had created. 
Your husband’s chest was still heaving when you finished cleaning him up. Concern was written all over his face when he found your eyes.
He pulled you back into his embrace as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah I am. That was really fun,” you snickered. 
Spencer's hand brushed over your back as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth. “Do you want me to touch you?”
The truth was that your entire body was aching for his touch. You could feel the heat burning between your legs and were aware that your arousal had started coating the insides of your thighs. It had been a long time since you’d felt so turned on. 
And yet, the thought of him actually doing something about it made you nervous. 
“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I would like to kiss you again, though.”
He let out a breathy laugh before finding your mouth once more. Feeling his lips on yours only blazed up the fire burning inside you. You shifted your position until you were hovering over your husband, one of his thighs pressed between yours. 
Tentatively you began rocking your hips against his leg, sighing as you realized how pleasant the friction was. 
“Is that okay?” You breathed against his lips as you kept moving. 
“More than okay,” he reassured you. “Use my body however you like.”
You sat up as you ground against his skin, feeling him tense his thigh underneath you. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them on your hips so he could help you move. Soon you had created a mess on his leg as you spread your wetness along his skin. 
With your entire entire body twitching, your motions became erratic. Looking down at Spencer, you found him staring at you with lust-filled eyes and a wicked grin painted over his face. 
As you danced along the edge of euphoria, you forgot your surroundings. It was only you and him right then. “I love you,” you whimpered and before your husband could respond, you collapsed into his arms as pleasure overcame you. You kept pressing your core against his leg as your whole body shook. 
Spencer held you firmly inside his arms as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you more.”
After your heart rate had come down to a normal frequency and you weren’t panting anymore, you kissed your husband. 
“How are you feeling?” He wanted to know. 
“Good. And also a little sticky,” you snickered, hinting at the mess you had created between your legs. 
“Yeah, me too,” Spencer chuckled. “How about I run us a bath so we can get cleaned up?” 
The prospect of that made your heart flutter. “That sounds wonderful.”
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Author's Note: Writing this story took me two years and I am so relieved I was finally able to get it to paper. I hope reading it felt as cathartic for you as writing it was for me. Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate a reblog and a comment.
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Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings
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lady-ashfade · 5 months ago
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A Son For A Son
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´*: ・゚⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2
╰・゚✧☽ first fic here.
╰・゚✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.
╰・゚✧☽ words: 1k
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.
╰・゚✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.
“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.
It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.
The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.
“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”
“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.
“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.
“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”
Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.
“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.
“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”
Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.
the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.
“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.
“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”
aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.
a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.
And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.
curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.
“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.
guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.
“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.
“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,
Your mother.
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koocycle · 1 year ago
Text
over wine; chapter one (j.jk)
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↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.
over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.
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pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader
word count. 37.8k (it’s gotten out of hand)
au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.
warnings. mild cursing, alcohol consumption, suggestive and mature themes including the following: unprotected sex, spanking, choking, dom!jk, oral (f. receiving) mirror sex and car sex. 
send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
series masterlist
one, two, three
author’s note. oh my god. to say i have written for a lifetime and got nothing in me anymore, would be an understatement. (kidding. i’ve got an entire series to finish) no but, to actually be able to finish this part of the series and publish it with pride is such a milestone for me. for over a year, i’ve been drafting and drafting, deleting documents and rewriting them, moving from concept to concept, pausing and swearing i’d never write another word again. really, i’m dramatic like that. and i want to take this little note as a thank you to @latetaektalk who’s been hearing me bitch over this for so long. who’s been reading draft after draft and even when she’s busy, was sulking about the fact that she was too busy to read it. but future doctors don’t read silly fics linh!!! they just scream whenever their friends scream and hop off to biology (?) class. i’m very thankful & proud.
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OVER COCKTAILS AND DIOR-BOWED ROSES
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Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.
You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.
Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the “reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen”, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.
Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.
What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?
Perhaps his despicable wife?
‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.
‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.
‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck right now.
You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”
“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”
Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.
“I told you, I want a second opinion.”
“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”
His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”
“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”
Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”
He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘‘Say that again?’’
You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you…you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”
Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.
He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.
You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.
He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.
“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.
“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”
Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.
Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.
You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”
“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”
It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.
You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.
Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.
‘‘I get it, okay?’’ He finally says, now at the edge of his seat as well. ‘‘It sucks to sit here and be confronted on issues that we can’t seem to work out ourselves, but we’re trying to crawl out of whatever hellhole this is. At least I am. Some cooperation would be appreciated.”
You don’t argue back as fast as he expects you to. ‘‘I’m trying, too.’’ You don’t stutter, you don’t fidget with your fingers and you sure as hell never break eye contact with the man. You never do when you defend yourself against your husband, and Jungkook has always admired how firm your feet are planted to the ground. Though when you’re wrong, then he’s the one who must be right. ‘‘She doesn’t fit our needs. Stick your head out of the sand and try to see what I see, Kook.’’
‘‘She doesn’t fit?’’ Jungkook’s brows pull together in frustration, defensively resting his palms on his inner thighs and causing his arms to crook. ‘‘What? Because we’re not a match or because you can’t stand it when you’re not winning?’’
‘‘What is this, the fucking Olympics?’’ You scowl, impulsively copying Jungkook’s defensive form. ‘‘I don’t need to win a damn thing. Look at where we got ourselves,’’ angry hands fly in the air and fall back down your lap with a loud slap. ‘‘We’re already losing with a therapist like her. You and I both.’’
‘‘You can’t just sit here and suck these theories out of your thumb, ___, we’re no kids no more. Stop acting like we know that woman,’’ Jungkook cries out, accusing finger-pointing your way. ‘‘You just can’t stand the fact that Seulgi is actually doing her damn job and isn’t blindly taking your side. Is it really that hard of a pill for you to swallow?’’
‘‘She’s blindly taking your side.’’ You spit back and your husband can only respond with a humorless chuckle, adding fuel to the fire. ‘‘The minute we step into this room, every fucking time, I’m painted as the clown. I’m the damn joke. Forced to listen to the way she’s putting you on a pedestal as she’s digging me deeper into the ground like there aren’t two sides of the story. Why is your first response telling me to shove it? You’re being a real asshole right now.’’
‘‘I never told you to shove it. Don’t put words in my mouth.’’ He attempts to say with a bit more composure but you can see the fire in his sharp eyes all the same way. Pierced lip curling in to hold himself back from saying all the wrong things. ‘‘I’m trying to be the rational one here.’’
‘‘Rational? You don’t need many words for it to be obvious.’’
‘‘Damn it, ___.’’ He curses and his fingers fall to rub at his temples, elbows digging into his thighs. You always got your word ready to spit back in his face. ‘‘Why don’t you just go home if you’re so unhappy? I’ll do this by myself if you’re really going to be this childish.’’
It feels like a slap in the face when his words work through, while it doesn’t sting and only seems to work you up with immense rage. Blood fast to rush to your head. You’re not sure what it is that’s keeping you from defending yourself. Knowing you, you’re not one to let accusations like these slide that easily, and neither is Jungkook. Maybe you expect him to apologize as far as your husband is able to. As long as his pride doesn’t tumble to the ground and shatters into pieces. You don’t know, maybe you expect him to at least take his word back while he looks you in the eye again.
It doesn’t surprise you when he doesn’t.
Jungkook’s head tilts when he hears the rumbling in your mini bag, watching your manicured hand dig through your belongings. ‘‘What are you looking for?’’
Your lips purse together again at the sound of his voice. ‘‘My phone,’’ you say shortly before you pull out the device. Long, almond-shaped stiletto’s tap against the screen and it is the only sound that’s creating much of a suspense. ‘‘To call a cab, I mean. You think I’m walking home in these heels?’’
‘‘Really?’’ he states more than he asks, sending him to the very edge. ‘‘You’re actually going home.’’
Your phone is already to your ear when you stand up from your spot on the sofa, Valentino Garavani falling in the crook of your arm as you straighten your dress. Heavy lidded eyes surf back to his dumbfounded state. ‘‘That’s what you told me to do?”
‘‘You know that’s not what I fucking wanted.’’ Jungkook scowls. ‘‘Seulgi’s gonna be back any minute now.’’
‘‘Good. Tell her I said hi.’’ And with those last bitter words slipping off your tongue, you leave him astonished in the luxury office with his hands reaching for his hair.
You’ve never been an easy one, Jungkook has been told by various people since the start of your relationship. But neither has he ever been a goody two shoes. Whether the both of you could handle each other, even after all these years of tough practice, might be a totally different story.
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It was in college when Jungkook first realized he caught the most beautiful gem in the jeweler's inventory. Fresh into his first year as a finance major, entering his twenties and living life to the fullest in a brand new world that consisted of sex and alcoholic beverages to explore. Jungkook has always been a big dreamer, even back then. A real go-getter. One who used to scribble down achievable five-year plans at that marked page in his notebook, in that awful handwriting anybody could barely read. It was quite funny, considering you weren’t a part of the initial plan before you said yes to a single date with him. But when you finally became Jungkook’s girl to kiss, to fuck and to admire, he knew he could easily squeeze you in that plan. Jungkook wanted you for life. He knew so from the start. He was the one who dreamed of moving out of the city and into a large house in the beauties of suburbia, surrounded by a white picket fence, a little family and two guard dogs on the side. He wanted it all with you. You were his dream girl.
Jungkook was never one to shy away when it came to you. He was yours, and you were his. It was just the way it was supposed to be and everybody had the right to know. Jungkook was most proud to call you his when curious eyes easily swayed your way across campus. It happened every time you came to pick him up from class. Your perfectly pin-straight styled hair fell down your perfect face all the time, and the dark denim low waist jeans that stopped just beneath your pink, sparkling belly button piercing made anyone want to be with you, or be you. No in between. He loved how his hands fit so perfectly around your waist, on top of that_ Prada_ belt encircling your hips. But what he must have loved a little more, was how everyone’s eye shifted to the way he’d pull you chest against chest. He was all yours, and you were his. Everybody knew.
Seven years later, and things haven’t changed a bit.
Well, most of that.
The low waist jeans are replaced with the champagne-colored Celine dress which enhances your every curve, stopping mid-thigh. Jungkook is aware that each spouse, faithful or not, must have taken a second look your way. The rounding of your wine glass hides in your palm as the French Chardonnay in it sways back and forth with every minor hand movement you make. Eyes are on you. Subtle or not for whatever reason your neighbors might have to peek and mumble about, it doesn’t matter. Probably from every corner of Park Jimin’s pool party, too.
Even Jungkook can sense the air tighten around you when his large hand finds that familiar spot above the swell of your ass. This doesn’t feel like seven years ago, when you were mere college boyfriend and girlfriend, smothered all over each other like your time together was limited. The tension is here and fairly obvious.
“What are you guys chit chatting about?” He interjects your conversation with Kim Joohyun anyway. Kim Namjoon’s wife: the lady down the street you claimed to never really like. Something about her being too merry, and her collection of flowery sun hats you can’t bear to look at. Jungkook figures he does you a favor, but you don’t spare him a second glance even when his chest nearly bumps flat to your back. Which probably still has something to do with the incident back at Seulgi’s office.
“You, actually.” You say, a click on your tongue.
Jungkook grins cutely, dimples appear at the sound of it while his hand rubs in small circles at your back. “Oh? Good things only, I hope.”
‘‘___ was just telling me about your upcoming trip!’’ Joohyun shrieks, no ill intentions behind that wide, toothy smile of hers. You don’t even blame her for not noticing how Jungkook stills on your side. ‘‘Gotta say you have me jealous, Jungkook. A trip during this time of the year? Sounds lovely.’’
‘‘Well… not sure how jealous you should be. It’s just business,’’ he heaves a breathy chuckle as he pulls you closer to his side, the tugs at his lips awfully forced in front of your neighbor. ‘‘But you knew that,’’ Jungkook nudges your side even though you don’t put in the effort to lock eyes, so he just watches your face crumble. ‘‘You didn’t mention that?’’
Your brows pull together in question. ‘‘Why would I?’’ You ask as you’re fast to focus your attention back to Joohyun, thumb pointing his way for emphasis. ‘‘He’ll be gone for almost two months on a Caribbean cruise. Isn’t that enough to be jealous of?’’
Joohyun cackles along to your bitter chuckles, the wine in her glass nearly tipping over. ‘‘You had me at Caribbean.’’
‘‘It’s not a vacation.’’ Jungkook quickly defends himself, interrupting the laughter. ‘‘It’ll be less fun when I’m going to be stuck in conference rooms all day. Believe me, it’s really not that big of a deal.’’
You swirl your glass in your hand, teeth digging into your lower lip. The feel of his fingertips at your hipbone now becomes more prominent. ‘‘You only cared to inform me last week, so I’m sure it’s no biggie.’’ You say, voice laced with irony. ‘‘He’s leaving in two weeks, by the way.’’
It’s true. Jungkook didn’t care to mention a thing about the business trip until a week ago. On a random Thursday night with Chinese take-out served on the table and a glass of red wine on the side. You’ve never been upset over any of his trips in the past, so when you stared back at the flabbergasted man with pulled brows, chow mein stuffing your cheeks as another episode of Ugly Betty blared in the background, it came as a surprise. Why, he asked you, why is it so hard to keep you happy? And the question threw you off the edge, snapping something inside you didn’t know you were keeping in. A trip that would last nearly two months had to be planned in advance. Longer than a total of three weeks, that is. Jungkook must have known he’d be gone for a long time, and he didn’t even care to inform his wife.
Jungkook apologized the moment he saw the confusion shift into anger. Though the apology was rushed and spurted out in the heat of the moment. Maybe he did it because he didn’t want any wine stains spilling your loveseat with the way you gripped onto the glass so tight. Or maybe because he realized he wasn’t the owner of a newborn pup, a last-minute search up his sleeve for a sitter during his two-month cruise vacay.
It was probably the former.
Even Kim Joohyun in her tipsy state takes note of the tight air around your throat. She smiles a little and takes another sip of her Chardonnay as if she isn’t being obvious. ‘‘More wine, babe?’’ You turn to Jungkook. His glass is still half full when you take it from his grip, pushing past his shoulder.
A pout plays on Joohyun’s lips as Jungkook’s gaze stays on you until you’re out of sight. Sad eyes trying to meet Jungkook’s as he watches you disappear into the crowd. ‘‘She’s a lady. She’ll come around.’’ She cutely tries to reassure him, a light slap to his bicep with the back of her hand. ‘‘It’ll be over by the time you all reach 30. Trust me, Joon knows all about my shenanigans by now.’’
Jungkook fakes a laugh but it doesn’t reach his eyes the same way. But that’s you, he thinks to himself. He knows it’s supposed to be a lighthearted, innocent joke, but Joohyun and Namjoon are only a couple years older than you two are, not even close to reaching their mid-30s. And ever since Jungkook moved into the neighborhood and has known his friends for, he’s seen the way they have never encountered a genuine threat to their relationship. Maybe you won’t ever come around, maybe Jungkook won’t either.
Nonetheless, he shrugs. ‘‘Probably.’’
‘‘Most likely.’’ She carries on, apparently determined to lighten up the mood. ‘‘Isn’t that what Seulgi is there for?’’
Joohyun’s words spill off her lips before she gives herself the chance to comprehend them, not even waiting for an actual answer before she brings her glass back to her lips, painting yet another spot at the rim a bright, cherry red.
Rule 101 to a successful neighborhood-friendly party: don’t bring therapists into the conversation. Avoid at all costs!
It catches Jungkook’s attention as if alarm bells are going off. Wide eyes and usually perfect brows are suddenly a little less sharp than they were a minute ago. Kim Joohyun knows about the sessions with your couple’s therapist? Have you been going around town, casually rolling the topic into the conversation with a bunch of neighbors? Jungkook isn’t sure why he can feel his heart sink to the pit of his stomach at the thought of it, at the mere assumption. Maybe because this is something between you and him. Something so personal, so intimate and so damn private. There shouldn’t be a reason for you to allow people to dig their noses into your business. To put it out in the open without talking to him first.
‘‘___ told you about Seulgi?’’
Jungkook finds it in him to stay calm. Though curiosity gets the better of him when it becomes obvious in his voice. Joohyun stands tall on both of her feet when she hears it, lips parting into a slight O. ‘‘Oh well, I mean, yeah. We’re girl friends.’’ She casually says, and it makes him wonder how deep into detail you went with the woman. When she catches him clenching his jaw, her eyes grow big. ‘‘I’m sorry, this is so inappropriate. The last thing I wanted to do was pry!’’
Kim Joohyun is the neighborhood’s sweetheart, Jungkook knows she’s already drowning herself in guilt with only a single glance his way. This is not about her. And let it be a coincidence or not, but he has mastered his poker face ever since his first years in college. Seems like the skill came in handy after all. ‘‘Don’t be sorry, what have _you _done?’’ That is all he can manage to say for now. A silly, shammed smile on his lips though he doesn’t even wait for an answer.
You, on the other hand… you’re nothing like Kim Joohyun.
A heat of adrenaline rushes through him, and he swears it is not the wine that has gone through his system. No, it can’t be, because his mouth has gone dry while the Chardonnay Park Jimin poured him earlier had some sort of sweet aftertaste. It was one of the sweetest white wines he owned, is what the blonde man gushed about.
Without any other thought hazing his mind any further, Jungkook politely excuses himself to fetch off and find you. Like a hawk, he bumps shoulders with a couple strangers as he tries to scan the large backyard, until his eyes land on you. Seated at the pool chair by the water with the sun in your face, bare legs stretched and crossed as your Givenchy sunglasses sit on the tip of your nose. The two wine glasses from earlier are forgotten and disregarded at your side table. You seem disinterested in the ongoing party at your side, not really one to mingle with strangers in the dirty pool water. You’re not a shy woman, and Jungkook has always admired that about you. It’s just that you don’t always fit in with the rest of the neighborhood. But not once since you moved to the suburbs did you mind. Instead, it almost seems like you’re glad.
‘‘You’re blocking my sun, Kook.’’ You say as if it isn’t obvious when Jungkook comes to stand at the end of the chair, by your feet. Your glasses are tipped to the tip of your nose as you lock eyes with him.
‘‘My bad.’’ He grins cutely before sitting down at the edge, fully taking you in when your middle finger pushes the tinted glasses back to your bridge as you make yourself comfortable again. ‘‘Are you enjoying yourself, babe?’’ Jungkook questions sweetly, tatted hand reaching out to cup your inner thigh, thumb rubbing small, soothing circles over the soft skin.
“It’s okay.”
He hums. “Mhm, I can see that.” Gentle fingers drag across your hot skin but you don’t pay him much mind. There is no need for much eye contact when you’re closing your eyes and leaning back into your chair, hands intertwining on top of your stomach. He can tell you’re still upset about earlier, when Jungkook ignored your worries and encouraged you to leave Seulgi’s session. And yes, maybe he shouldn’t have done that. He is aware that maybe he had gone a little too far when he just let you walk out of there without sitting you down and letting you say your thing. Though you and him both know he wouldn’t push your buttons after pulling a stunt like that. ‘‘Look at me, love.’’ He says with a tight line of his lips. You broke a piece of his trust the moment you laid your relationship bare before a woman you barely know, and God knows who else you might have told.
You do as he tells you, but mainly because the pet name sits so strange on his tongue. Like there is a bite to it. And for some strange reason, the confused look on your beautiful face irks the fuck out of him. As if you never feared he’d find out you told some neighbor about something so personal. Like he wouldn’t get upset.
‘‘Care to tell me when you got so tight with Kim Joohyun?’’
You frown, lips pursing together. ‘‘Joohyun?’’
Jungkook wants to give you another bit to process the question, but you made him an impatient man. It’s a simple query, he thinks, and there is no need for him to elaborate any further. Though you seem on the slower side today, eyes half lidded through the dark brown lenses of your glasses, like you’re done with his bullshit for the week.
‘‘You know,’’ he pushes, nodding along. ‘‘When you had no issue letting her know the ins and outs of our relationship like you’re pulling off some Vogue interview type of shit.’’
‘‘Jungkook, what are you even saying?’’
‘‘The therapy, ___. The sessions, Seulgi—all of that shit.’’ He hisses, voice lowering even though the edge to it is just as sharp. ‘‘Why would you tell her?’’
It takes a moment before he watches the realization sink in. Jungkook’s eyes bore into yours and threatening flames swim in them, restlessly waiting for your word against his with his lips curled inwards and brows pulled together. You owlishly blink at him, stumbling on whatever you’re about to say next when he is looking at you like that, holding you under that microscope he’s had you on for years. Though it feels like it’s the first time he’s actually paying attention. At least now, after a long fucking time.
Jungkook is not one to easily feel small due to anyone’s actions, let it be his own mother and he wouldn’t dare to let his guard down. He is a true businessman at heart. At one point in his career, forceful assertiveness was an important skill that had to be drawn into his system in some way or another. Whether that’s considered a good quality or not, to Jeon Jungkook, financial manager of four years by now, it has always been reality.
‘‘You’re upset I told Joohyun about the therapy?’’ Qualities, skills and class. All of that thrown out of the window with a single look at those big, astonished eyes.
He returns them, all the same way. ‘‘Of course I’m gonna be upset. I mean, Kim Joohyun?’’ Jungkook scoffs loudly, having trouble keeping his voice down. ‘‘This is our fucking shit, ___. It’s none of her damn business.’’
His rage is working you up as you catch a couple heads eagerly turning your way. Negative attention is still attention, some say. ‘‘Can you keep your voice down? The whole neighborhood is here.’’
Here’s one thing: Jungkook can’t give a damn about any of them now. The chatter and mingles are done for, he’s over it today. It messes with his head; the fact that the first words that came from you weren’t a set of haste apologies. Call him self-centered, he doesn’t care. It’s all he intends to hear. ‘‘You should’ve discussed this with me before you went out to talk about our personal shit with others.’’ He lowers his voice anyway.
‘‘Discuss?’’ You ask quickly. “This is not some business ordeal, Jungkook. Am I not allowed to vent to someone?’’
‘‘I’m here. Right under your nose.’’ Jungkook argues, an angry finger digging into his chest. ‘‘Why won’t you vent to me? Why would you turn to people you barely know when you’ve got me?’’
‘‘You?’’ A humorless chuckle escapes you before you can hold onto the irony. ‘‘Sure, I’ve got you. For two full weeks before you leave for that damn trip–isn’t that a luxury? My relationship is going to shit and I don’t have a single friend in this town who would want to hear me out. But thank God I got you, the one who sends his wife home mid-therapy sessions.’’
Jungkook painfully pinches his brows together as he shoots daggers through your shades. ‘‘It doesn’t matter the circumstances, ___. You don’t just casually discuss that shit with people. It isn’t something to be fucking proud of.’’
You take the glasses off to get a better look at him. ‘‘You’re not actually upset, are you?” You ask, head tilting and gaze clouding. ‘‘God, it’s beyond me how much you care about these people’s opinions. It was just a harmless neighbor-to-neighbor talk with some woman down the street. What are you afraid is gonna happen next? Them throwing us off the Saturday night mini-golf game?’’
Irony. You’re a master at it, but Jungkook doesn’t seem amused by your humor. ‘‘You know what? Tell whoever the fuck you want.’’ He stands up from his seat. ‘‘If you’re unable to see the issue at hand then maybe you’re not even worth my damn time. Figure this shit out yourself, ___.’’
And with so much, Jungkook slips away in between bodies of people you don’t know. It leaves you unhinged in your seat, the sun gracefully falling down your skin again like you’re supposed to be enjoying it. Your head runs blank when you repeat the conversation, running around in circles when you recall all of the finger-pointing. All the looks of revulsion.
You’re not one to really care about other people’s opinions. You’ve never been and never will be, you swear. People will gossip about anyone to spice up their own lives anyway. There's the unemployed wife from number 09 who walks around town in designer mini-skirts with a diamond at her ring finger bigger than her own head. She’ll undoubtedly be a broad topic with many chapters for many. You let them talk. You don’t care. There is no point in caring what those low lives say about you. The grass on the other side of the white picket fence isn’t any brighter.
So when Kim Joohyun subtly warmed you up to the topic of unstable marriages, you saw no point in lying to her and telling her you couldn’t be happier. That you’re on cloud nine and that Jungkook is the type of partner you always dreamed of, that you are his ideal partner he’s been dreaming of. Because he isn’t, and neither are you. Yes, your marriage is going to shit and you’re trying to fix it. So what if the entire neighborhood knows? You might as well give those nosy Suburbans a reliable source to gossip from.
Jungkook has always cared. You know he has. Your husband cares about the way he’s perceived by strangers; you’ve seen it as long as you’ve known him. He’s never shy to show off the gold-coated jewelry that hangs off your neck, or the overpriced three-piece suits he’ll wear long after office hours. Of course Jungkook would go feral, you then realize. Jeon Jungkook is a flawless soul. God forbid he is dealing with an unhappy wife at home and a couple’s therapist to place the cherry on top.
The door softly thuds behind you as you get home, the loud keychains announcing your return to the big house instead of a sweetened hello. You catch the back of Jungkook’s head immediately, facing you as he’s seated at the dining table. The change in his clothes stands out. The laid-back blouse he wore at the pool party is replaced with a more formal, striped button-up with neutral colors and you wonder why he’d change into it if he’s working from home, where no one would see him. The brightness of his laptop screen hits his face and it makes you realize how fast the sun had set since he stormed off earlier. He must have been working ever since he came in.
You don’t care to take your heels off as you approach him, wanting him to hear the slow steps you take instead. ‘‘Would it really hurt Park Jimin if he offered his guests some snacks? It’s a pool party for God’s sake; people shouldn’t swim on an empty stomach,’’ you whine, making your way over.
‘‘You’re home late,’’ Jungkook mumbles, teeth grinding at your presence. His eyes are set on his laptop screen, a bunch of numbers you don’t care about filling his file.
‘‘I didn’t think it’d hurt if I stayed out a little longer.’’ You hum cutely. Hands come to rest on his broad shoulders before you gently start kneading the tense muscles. You watch from behind as his head tilts a little, not yet sparing you a glance and letting go of the cold shoulder but relaxing into the feel instead. “You and I could spend some time apart after that conversation we had, no?”  
Your lips move to the shell of his ear just to accentuate the words even more. And instantly, it catches his attention. The fact that you’re addressing the issue at hand does wonders for him. Does this mean you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions and apologize like a grown adult? Jungkook’s fingers hover above his keyboard but come to a complete stop when he feels the wet kisses beneath his earlobe, traveling all the way down his jaw. Your fingers fumble to unbutton his blouse, manicured stilettos making the process even slower. And as fast as he fooled himself to believe you’d follow up to face your consequences, the quicker he averts his attention back to his file.
Your lips move to the shell of his ear just to accentuate the words even more. And instantly, it catches his attention. The fact that you’re addressing the issue at hand does wonders for him. Does this mean you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions and apologize like a grown adult? Jungkook’s fingers hover above his keyboard but come to a complete stop when he feels the wet kisses beneath his earlobe, traveling all the way down his jaw. Your fingers fumble to unbutton his blouse, manicured stilettos making the process even slower. And as fast as he fooled himself to believe you’d follow up to face your consequences, the quicker he averts his attention back to his file.
Sighing, he speaks. “Whatever you’re trying to do right now, it’s not working.”
You pissed him off. That much did you understand when he stormed off Park Jimin’s backyard and didn’t return to make any more small talk with any of your neighbors. That perfect, white-toothed smile gone and hidden in the safety of your four walls, where he didn’t give himself the time to unwind and went to work behind his laptop straight away. You know his ways by now. Jungkook is a workaholic, that much isn’t a secret. It’s a Sunday afternoon with bits and pieces of sunlight on every corner of the neighborhood, but Jeon Jungkook would rather spark an argument with his wife and work his ass off to distract himself after.
“Hm, what is it that I’m I trying to do?” You’re provoking him, hands traveling down south beneath the thin fabric of his unbuttoned blouse while you continue to leave sweet kisses at his jaw. Quietly, you move on to deeper spots of his silky, thick neck. A cute bite here and there. “I’m not doing anything.” Your nails gently scrape against his chest in need for attention and you know it’s working despite all his efforts to remain calm. You can feel the slightest hitch of a breath with the way your palms are pressed against him. He is holding back because he’s angry, but not on your watch.
“Cut it, ___.” Jungkook snaps even though you know you nearly got him hooked around your finger. No matter how many years you’ve known the man for, he is only a man. They’re the easy kind. “I’m working.”
“On the weekend? Don’t act so fussy babe,” You circle his chair, lingering fingers in the back of his neck with a big pout on your glossed lips. You lean against the edge of the table, ass planted next to his laptop. “You used to fuck me on and off business hours all the time. What changed?”
Jungkook leans back in his chair with a loud exhale through his nose. You’re playing a silly game and he can be just as witty. His hands intertwine and his head tilts as he locks a cold eye with you. The smug curve of your lips tells him everything he needs to know. A sharp brow rises. The familiar, cocky attitude telling you to continue your little act. Continue it and see what happens, is what he tells you.
You move on command, closing his laptop with a soft thud before you impatiently shove it to the side. Jungkook watches your every move like a hawk and you wouldn’t dare to break eye contact; you wouldn't lose to him. Straddling the man with a bare leg on either side of him, you make sure you’re seated just right as your heat hovers above his already growing bulge. He whines a little at the feel of it, ever so soft like he doesn’t want to give into you. “You used to hold me, just like this,” you whimper, ushering his large hands to sit at your hips where they tighten their grip, one of them quick to move to the swell of your ass and grab a handful. “You’d tease me, play with me,” another roll of your clothed heat against his sends a wave of relief through him. It’s slow, addicting. “You used to want me all the time.”
“I still want you.” Jungkook is fast to object. Eyes flickering down to the plumpness of your tinted lips and you waste no time in shutting him up when he does so. Your lips clash together like it’s second nature, perfectly in sync from the get-go like it is always that easy between you. Teeth clash and tongues dance like you’re desperate. You don’t stop until a tattooed hand reaches through your hair, gently make shifting your locks into a ponytail until he tightens his grip. Prying you away with a little more force than he‘s shown earlier. “But you fucking piss me off baby,”
He has you in his lock, gripping tighter onto the ponytail until you look down on him and that smug smile is wiped off your lips. “Do I?” You ask dumbly. You know you do. He knows you know.
“You do, but you don’t give a fuck, do you?” He questions with a closed-lipped smile. Jungkook’s free hand moves to hike your dress higher up your ass until it sits completely bare on top of him, one less layer until he can feel you. With the fresh air that is roaming through the house, you’re not given enough time to adjust to the new feeling against your bare skin when he spanks you once. Soothing the skin with a little graze after. “You think sex makes me forget about the way you can’t shut that tight little mouth? Hm? Always gotta complain about something.” Another spank. Through it all, you remain eye contact as you watch the fire swim through his gaze. “Not to me, though. To your little friends around the neighborhood, right?”
“No.”
“Hm, what was that?” He heard you, though he hums anyway.
“Just Joohyun.” You whimper in his grip, stopping yourself from rolling your hips into his when he grabs a handful of your flesh. “I only told Kim Joohyun from number 05. She doesn’t fucking care about you or me. Nobody fucking cares about us.”
His grip on your hair only tightens as you spew the words out, a delicious sting at your scalp. “Aren’t you sorry, baby?” He whispers with a sharp edge to it, spitting the words out like he doesn’t need an answer from you. Like he already knows the answer. “I’d be fucking sorry if I were you, because I’m yours. And you’re mine.” His lips press together, sharp eyes burning into yours. “And whatever the fuck is mine, I keep to myself. Don’t you think that’s rational?”
You nod, but it isn’t enough for him. “C’mon, babe. You were talking so much shit earlier, you can give me more than that.” He says.
“Yes, Kook. You’re right.” You whine out loud, “I’m sorry.”
Jungkook tilts his head cutely, intently peering back at you. “Sorry, for?”
“For talking shit about everything. The sessions, the therapy. I should’ve understood this is something between you and me.”
A smug smile paints his lips, seemingly pleased with your answer as he loosens his grip at your hair. “That’s my girl. Was that so hard now?” He asks sweetly, eyes softening and fingers continuing to travel through your locks, gently massaging your scalp with his fingertips. Enjoying the way you relax into his touch. “Go lay on that table and spread those legs for me.”
You shoot him a look even though the state between your legs worsens, pausing. “Jungkook, we eat at that table.”
“I told you to get on there, didn’t I?”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice when he’s looking at you like that. Those dark, hazy and impatient eyes seem to bore into your skull until you do what he asks. The petty attitude you carried with pride is now long gone, lost in the heat of the moment as you climb onto the dining table before him, like a five-star buffet. Heels dig into the stool in between his legs and thighs clamp together as you lean back to observe him, testing to see how much longer you can push his buttons. He knows you’re trying to work him up because you’re great at it. He gave you seven years to master all your troublesome ways on him.
The corners of your mouth curl up to a sly and mischievous smile as your teeth dig into your lower lip. ‘‘You wanna play, baby?’’ Jungkook challenges, noticing the look you give him. He rises from his seat until he hovers over you with his broad shoulders. With your knees stay put against his chest, he quietly watches how you get down to lay your back flat against the table the closer he comes. Just the way he told you to. ‘‘Let’s play then,’’ he murmurs, his hands sliding up your bare legs, pausing at your thighs and gently tearing them apart until you’re spread out to his liking. Your breath hitches in your throat, back already curving off the surface of the table when Jungkook’s thumb grazes soft circles over your panties. The black-laced thong does little to block the sensation. He sighs heavily, breath fainting in the crook of your neck while his free arm supports his weight next to your head.
‘‘I don’t even know if you deserve to be fucked good.’’ Jungkook groans into your neck. There is no way he doesn’t feel the wet spot on your panties, not when his fingertips continue to feel you up and dig a little at where your hole is covered up. ‘‘What if I just,’’ he slips your thong aside, ‘‘…fucked this soaked pussy with my fingers, hm?’’
You can’t stop the whimper that leaves you when his thick middle finger teases a long strike down your folds. ‘‘Please, Jungkook.’’ You cry, nails scraping at his nape. ‘‘I want you.’’ Jungkook never fails you when it comes to sex. He knows your body like the back of his hand and no matter how shaky the ground underneath your feet might be, Jungkook will always be a passionate lover underneath the sheets. Some days, it might be all you can hold on to.
‘‘Yeah? You want so much, baby.’’ He continues to trail messy kisses down your throat, traveling lower until he reaches your hardened nipples. His free hand flicks it twice before he takes the sensitive bud in between his lips and starts sucking with no shame, teeth grazing with a slight sting. ‘‘And I give it all to you like an idiot, even when you don’t deserve it. What makes you think you deserve to feel good?’’
‘‘I apologized, Kook.’’ You defend yourself, heat pooling in your lower belly when his lips sink lower. Tasting every inch of you until he stops just above your begging heat. ‘‘Please, baby, right now I just… need you.’’
A low hum leaves him as if telling you he understands. With a single, last kiss does he finish off, hands sweetly running over your thighs like he’s thinking. “Let’s compromise.’’ He then says, looking up at you. “I’m eating this sweet pussy, but you don’t cum unless I tell you so.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Clear?’’
You nod eagerly. “I can do that.’’
He only strikes you with a satisfied smile before he averts his focus. Large hands curl around the back of your thighs to keep you in place and the excitement rushes through you merely at the feeling. Your pussy is pulsing beneath him only at the thought of having him so close to you and it pushes his ego. “And I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Understand me?’’
“Yes, Kook,’’ you wail, feeling the impatience tug at you.
A desperate whimper cut short leaves your pretty lips when he pushes your panties aside again, this time until he’s able to fully expose your bare heat. You’re sensitive and a little swollen beneath him, eagerly awaiting his touch. That, or his lovemaking. He doesn’t know which one it is, but he is convinced it doesn’t matter. When he gets to watch you like this, so needy for his touch and desperate for his attention, then ultimately, Jungkook feels like he has won.
Yes, Jeon Jungkook needs to win petty games because it’s obvious you don’t need him like you used to. Some days you barely talk to each other, and others, you don’t even see each other. You fetch for yourself and so does your husband. No issue, he often tells his friends when they ask about your relationship and its rocky road. Part of life, it’s gonna cool off, is what he says. Though when he’s got you beneath him like this, moaning and whining his name in utter desperation, then yes, he remembers what it is like to be wanted by you. And yes, he needs to win that game.
“Always so perfect for me,’’ he mumbles more to himself than to you as he spreads your lips apart with two thick fingers. Blowing cool air directly on your drenched cunt, curious to see how sensitive you really are. And to say he’s pleased when he watches you flinch away with that cute little gasp coming from your throat, is an understatement. “Have you touched yourself since the last time I fucked you, baby?’’
He knows he has. Jungkook has thought of you in the shower, a door away from where you were sound asleep. Or on the downstairs sofa, the night you were out with a couple women down the block. And most embarrassingly of all, locked in one of the bathroom stalls at the office, when you were too angry over his late hours to give him a call back. He watches your face distort, trying to read whatever it is he expects you to say. “Be honest with me, there is no wrong answer.’’ He mellows, a single finger continuing to stroke your folds ever so gently.
“Yes…’’
He hums. “Yes, what?’’
“Yes, I touched myself since you last fucked me.’’
It’s been a long week since he last fucked you. Your husband had been busy preparing for his upcoming business trip, while you were upset with him for prioritizing work over your marriage. Both of you were angry with each other. Though, despite the high tensions, neither of you was willing to break the standoff by dropping your cold shoulder and making the first move. Until now. “What did you think of when you were touching yourself?’’ He asks you quietly, tip of his tongue slipping out to lick a bold stripe at your wet folds. “Was it my mouth?’’ It’s a gentle move at first, though Jungkook grows more focused on the sensitive bud of your clit when your little whines increase. Taking it in his mouth and sucking on it just to hear you stumble beneath him.
“Yes, I was thinking about your mouth on me,’’ you’re out of breath when you finally speak and Jungkook snickers into your heat at the fragile state he’s got you in. “Also your fingers, Kook.’’
“What about them?’’ He breaks free from your lips, thumb back at your clit and rubbing in sweet circles before you can comprehend it. “You imagined me fucking you with my fingers?’’ His other hand reaches down to play a little at your hole, teasing as a string of wetness attaches to his finger.
“Yes, Kook, please.’’ You groan out loud, ‘’I need you to fuck me.’’
His mouth is back on you as soon as the words come out. Little pools of saliva drip from his lip and fall onto your cunt until you’re a mess beneath him, rolling your hips into his face and growing desperate for some sort of release. Jungkook hums sternly with the bud in between his soft lips as a warning, the sensation of it pushing you even more off the edge. “You wanna be fucked, baby?’’ He asks you like it isn’t obvious in the way your face seems to glow with delight, eyes shut so tight and lips so pursed you might explode. “What is it? Your own fingers didn’t satisfy you?’’
A thick finger enters your slick fold just as his words get through. Curling inside your tight walls as his tongue flicks to make a return. “Need yours,’’ you cry, his tongue making circular motions onto your clit for as long as he feels you tighten around him, encouraging him to fasten the pace and make you cry on his tongue. “Yours always make me feel better.’’
“Hm, yeah?’’ He buzzes, eating your needy whines up. ‘’Pretty baby can’t make herself feel good so she needs me to do the job for her?’’ Your moans are like music to his ears, adding another finger to your tight warmth and fucking in and out of you until your moans aren’t recognizable anymore.
He pumps in and out of your warmth until you’re squirming beneath him, until he is satisfied with the sounds your cunt makes for him. Wetness coating his fingers as proof he is the only one out there who makes you feel this good. The only one who gets you to roll your eyes to the back of your head in absolute bliss. It sparks his ego, alright. Jungkook can’t stop the smile from spreading onto his lips when you grip his wrist tightly, holding onto him because his pace sends you to your high a little too quickly. He curls his fingers inside you once more, rubbing your sweet walls to remind you how much you need him to be yours.
“Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.’’ There is a layer of desperation he hasn’t heard in a while, and fuck, it is an addicting sound coming from you.
Jungkook’s tongue clicks at the roof of his mouth, tsking loudly. “We had a deal, baby. Want to remind me what we agreed on?’’ His fingers reach deeper into your pussy and he rolls his tongue more passionately onto your clit, his hot breath fanning over your skin as you try to run back on it. “Remind me, ___.’’
The stern tone throws you off guard and you might be imagining things, but you swear he fucks you a little harder the longer you stay quiet. “I can’t cum without your permission.’’
“See who listens if she tries a little?’’ He throws in a wink just to get to you, ‘’So we’re gonna be patient, aren’t we? You told me you could do it, ___. ’’
There it was. That sweet tone of his that always drives you off the edge. His eyes tease when they meet yours, something challenging gleaming in them as if he’s already won your little game. And with the way you squill when he rewards you with a particularly harsh suck at your sensitive clit, he might be closer to crossing the finishing line than you are. He knows that, too. Feels it in the way you fumble as you lay there, in the way your pussy clenches around his thick fingers.
“I can,” you defend yourself, although it doesn’t sound convincing. Not when you’re so out of breath.
Jungkook snickers at you like he’s amused. He finds it endearing how you’re trying so hard to remain calm underneath him. You’re so stubborn, so sure of yourself like he hasn’t known you for almost a decade. Like he hasn’t been given ten years to explore you, to know you from the inside out. And whether you forgot about it or not, there was a time when Jungkook read through you and you loved it. There was a time when you were his, and he was yours. A time when you wore that diamond around your finger with pride.
“Gonna miss this sweet pussy when I’m gone.” He’s talking about his trip. But you don’t want to hear about it, and he knows. He sees it in the way your face crumbles and the sighs of pleasure turn into ones of distress. Jungkook reaches up to you, two fingers still buried to the hilt until he hovers above you. The warmth radiating off his chest is addictive no matter how many times you’d deny it. He locks your lips with his in a swift motion, dancing together like you weren’t shooting lasers at each other earlier today. A lewd moan leaves you when he bites down your bottom lip, the sensational sting holding on to it even when his teeth let go. “Are you gonna miss me?”
I miss you every day, is what lies at the tip of your tongue. Though you realize it sounds a bit too sentimental for the current state of your relationship you find yourselves in. So you opt to respond with beats of silence instead. You figure it wouldn’t complicate things. It breaks his heart a little when his answer is filled with only the sound of his fingers pumping in and out your pussy, but he knows he isn’t one to dwell. “I’ll bring you something pretty back.’’
You figured he would bring something exquisite back with him. It is just the way he does things. Always bringing something pretty back home and never returning from his trips empty-handed. Jimmy Choo high heels, Prada mini handbags, you name it—he has a knack for finding you the most coveted items. Though right now, you don’t care about any of that. All you want is him, there is no need to offer much else. The thought of his embrace, the way his touch sets your body on fire, it was once enough to fill you with a longing. A craving only he can satisfy. Not some luxury item he’s pulling off his sleeve.
You hold Jungkook’s cheeks to draw him nearer, at a loss for words. You haven’t gotten much to tell him, after all. His warm breath grazes your lips and you’re sure he feels the same thing, eyes flickering from your dark gaze, back to your lips as his fingers slow down. “Jungkook,” you whimper, shivers sending down your spine when he rubs your walls so deliciously slowly. “Make me cum, please.” You beg, silenced by the way his lips meet yours in a fiery, passionate kiss that leaves you a little breathless. He tastes like white wine and sweets, the flavors melting on your tongue in a sensual tango as your fingers run through his perfect locks, pulling him closer as your breaths become ragged.
“You want me, baby?” His lips are swollen when he breaks free, needing confirmation. He hates that he can’t go without.
“So bad,” you tell him, nails sweetly scraping at his jaw when his fingers are buried deep to the knuckles. “Want to cum on your fingers.”
It’s all he needed to hear to be satisfied, the smug smile on his lips dying to make an appearance when you whimper beneath him like you do. “Come for me, princess.” He orders sweetly, a toothy grin lingering as his hot breath falls down your face. “Make me a mess on my fingers.”
You comply gracefully, without needing him to ask twice. As a wave of pleasure pulses through your body, the knot in your lower abdomen unravels, causing your back to arch off the table and your thighs to clamp together until Jungkook’s torso blocks them from doing so. He watches intently, observing the way your jaw drops and your lips part ever so slightly, noticing the crease that form between your eyebrows as your eyes squeeze shut. He wants to preserve this image, to savor it in the recesses of his mind, even when he’s halfway across the world and separated from you.
Your breathing slows down until you come down from your high. Jungkook’s fingers gently slip out of your cunt before they cup your warmth one last time, sweetly spreading your wetness over your folds until he’s satisfied enough and you can’t seem to take any more of his touch, even if they are minor and gentle. You make a deliberate effort to avoid eye contact with him, even though he seems to be pleading with his gaze. He keeps his eye fixed on the side of your face as you drift off, the weight of your breaths gradually easing until the tension between you suddenly tightens. His chest above you becomes a little less warm, and you become a little more cold. Some sort of emptiness arises, both of you can feel it.
Moments ago, you couldn’t even tell him you’d miss him in return. And despite the fact that you might not miss him back, he would much rather have you spew out that little white lie in the heat of the moment than have you stay silent the way you did. It would spare his feelings a little, he wouldn’t mind. But even after your glow died down and the initial rush subsided, you couldn’t even meet his gaze. You know your relationship is, and has never been solely based on sex; that much was evident from the beginning. So why are you acting as if it is?
“You don’t gotta.’’ He says simply, not wanting to elaborate much further as the issue at hand becomes more apparent, becoming clear to him. However, for you, he doesn’t have a clue what is going through your mind. But for him, the problem nags at him to the point where he can’t find it in him to come up with a solution. Where he doesn’t necessarily want to find one.
You stare back at him with big, puzzled eyes. “I don’t mind.’’ You shrug, hands falling limp on your sides. “Do you?’’
You observe as Jungkook’s lips purse together and his eyes start to wander around the room as if looking for something fascinating. He shifts his weight to one leg as his hands slide into his pockets. “Yeah,’’ he mumbles in a low voice with a frown, no indication of humor on his face.
You wait for him to provide an explanation. Maybe he’s simply worn from today’s events and wants to head to bed early. To go upstairs and take a long, hot shower after he worked his ass off behind that screen. It was only last week when Seulgi brought the topic of sex to the table, at first suggesting you’d attempt to see each other more often during the day. Maybe go out for lunch together during his breaks, or have breakfast together before he takes off.
No way, Jungkook told her then. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are spent behind his laptop screen and it’d be impossible to shift around the schedule, let alone picking you up and bringing you back home by the time his break ends.
You’d have to find the time some way or another if you want this to work, she said. Try having more sex, she then suggested, attempt to rekindle that spark that brought you together in the first place through more intimate, private methods and connect to each other in your most vulnerable ways. Intimacy can help reignite the passion in some relationships, is what she tried to convince you of.
A bunch of crap, you swear. Two hundred bucks an hour for advice you could’ve found at the back of some middle-aged gossip magazine? Not when he has an obvious hard one hiding in his pants and rejects you like he has better things to do than to _“reignite the passion you share that has brought you together.’’ _
Especially when you haven’t fucked ever since that day.
Jungkook’s lack of response speaks volumes, leaving you feeling frustrated and disrespected. If he doesn’t want to fuck you, he could just say so.
Screw him and screw Kang Seulgi. You refuse to settle for a partner who rejects your advances, or a therapist with shallow suggestions. You deserve a partner who is willing to put in the effort to keep the spark alive in your relationship, and not just dismiss your needs with a simple swipe of his card at Seulgi’s office.
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The week continues much like the way you and Jungkook prefer to handle things—tons of escapism and much less communication than is probably needed. In your defense, your husband will leave the country in a little over a week, and all the issues you could address and possibly solve now would still be forgotten and buried by the time he travels back home. It’s pointless, you think. You figure there just isn’t much to talk about in such short amount of time, and Jungkook must think something similar; it is evident in the way your backs face each other every night of the week, the way he eats dinner at the dining table in the living room while you do it at the kitchen counter, the way either of you can barely look at each other for longer than a few seconds. Your pride is too high to break through your walls.
Car rides have never been this dreadful before.
It is only when Jungkook stops in front of a red light that manages to steal a glance at you in the passenger’s seat. His demeanor stays cool, with his tattooed hand on the wheel as he sits back and takes the opportunity to observe you. His inked sleeve is on display, with his dress shirt rolled up all the way up to his elbows, although he is required to cover up in mere moments before you arrive at the business event that got you so dolled up, surrounded by tens of his colleagues.
You’re typing away on your phone screen on his side. Long, almond shaped nails tapping against the device as if you’re setting several emergency meetings up for the upcoming hour.
Kim Joohyun no. 5 | So, you haven’t had sex in over a week? He didn’t want to at all?
You | I don’t know what it is that he wants. He doesn’t fucking talk.
Kim Joohyun no. 5 | Maybe he’s relieving it somewhere else. Any big fights gone on between you two recently?
The text causes you to pause. You look up, looking a little puzzled with the way eyebrows furrow. Jungkook catches on quickly, meeting your eye for a split second before you tear your eyes back to your tiny screen. You’re not sure what Joohyun is implying and neither do you care enough to know. You may make Jungkook out for a lot of things a lot of the time, but you know there is one thing he is not.
You | You better not say what I think you’re saying. Lol.
Jeon Jungkook is not a cheater.
The implication pisses you off as you let your phone fall to your lap, arms folding over another. He watches as you’re visibly bothered, instantly recognizing that look on your face because he has seen it a dozen times already. The pursed, glossed lips and the clenched jaw, it’s a classic. Jungkook isn’t sure who pissed you off to the point where you’re not even arguing with him, but he doubts you’ll tell him. His eyes are on you but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him. Instead, you remain silent, your annoyance palpable in the air.
Jungkook clears his throat, ‘‘Is something wrong?’’ He speaks over the radio, a careful start.
You can’t help it. You’ve been with the man for almost a decade, and sure, not always has it been pretty, but somehow it has worked. Maybe it was your first mistake to tell Kim Joohyun about the therapy sessions and the whole Kang Seulgi issue at hand, but you needed an outlet. Something close to a friend who would listen to you since Jungkook was always out of the house. Now you’re stuck with random people implying your husband doesn’t need your sex, that he’s fine finding it someplace else. You so dearly hope you misunderstood her, because your heart pounds a little faster, chest grows a little tighter.
Your head lolls to the backrest of your seat as you take a deep breath, eyes set on the scenery outside. ‘‘It’s just something Joohyun said,’’ you finally say. The sky above you paints an array of pinks and purples, a beautiful sight if only you weren’t feeling so sour right now.
Jungkook nods like he understands, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as his head softly nods along to the music at the radio. ‘‘I see. Do you want to talk about it?’’
The words throw you off guard. You can’t help but stare back as he looks at you with a patient, and rather relaxed demeanor. You can’t recall the last time where either of you suggested to talk. It must’ve been a long time. It’s rare, that is. You shake your head slowly, swallowing before your head falls back to your seat. ‘‘No, it’s nothing,’’ you murmur, eyes back out of the window.
He clicks his tongue softly. ‘‘Alright. If you say so,’’ Jungkook says, quick to dismiss the offer, and something inside of you wishes he pushed a little further. Moments of silence continue to fill the car, with the only sound coming from the radio and the soft hum of the car’s engine. ‘‘You like the dress?’’ He reaches out to lower the volume, eyes scanning down your body, where the simple, strapless silhouette of the Valentino mini dress hugs your curves so charmingly. Worn as a vision of elegance with the way you do it, he knew you’d like it too. 
‘‘I do. Thank you.’’ You say, only now having the chance to thank him for the luxury item you found on the kitchen counter this morning, just like Jungkook’s text told you where to find it. The message didn’t say much, just that the dress was there and that he’d pick you up straight after work for the business event he was invited to. You got the hint, styled the dress with some jewelry that matched the rich, ivory white fabric and you picked out your prettiest heels. The Jimmy Choo ones with the bow that you knew Jungkook loved so much. You’re not sure how long it took for you to get ready, maybe an hour or two tops, but you know you took your time. Maybe because you wanted to look pretty for him, knowing he probably wanted to see you in the dress if he bought it for you.
His eyes travel to your legs, also leaning back in his seat as his foot hovers over the gas pedal, the car humming as it moves forward a little. ‘‘Thought everybody should see you in it tonight.”
Reality rushes back to you, then. Jungkook doesn’t care about you _or _the dress. Your husband only cares about the way the both of you will be perceived tonight. By his colleagues, by his friends and by his acquaintances. Yes, you’re looking stunning tonight. Your hair sits flawlessly and your legs have never looked sexier before. But what does that matter when he can’t proudly put his arm around you and call you his?
The light turns green and he tears his eyes off you, back to the road. ‘‘But I hope you get to smile a little more by the time we’re there.’’
There’s an attitude to the statement, leaving you a little in awe. ‘‘I don’t really feel like smiling,’’ you declare, arms folded. It’s a sassy response, one he catches on to instantly and you know it, considering the way he side-eyes you from behind the wheel. The glances he throws your way burning at your head.
‘‘I don’t need you acting petty, ___.’’ He chuckles, though there is no humor to it. ‘‘I know we’ve got a lot of our own shit to worry about, but we don’t need any of that tonight. Please,’’ he adds, ‘‘just be there with your head.’’
You feel a surge of anger rising inside you at his words. How dare he tell you how to feel and how to act? You take a deep breath, voice already shaking from the way he works you up. ‘‘So you want me to pretend all is good in front of everyone? Because you know it isn’t.’’
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he presses the pedal a bit harder, grip tightening around the wheel. ‘‘I’m asking you to keep it down,’’ he argues, ‘‘there’s no need for us to be mixing business with private matters in front of these people–it doesn’t concern them. We can talk about everything else later, I just want to get through with it for tonight.’’
You scoff. ‘‘Funny you say that, considering we haven’t exchanged a word all week.’’
Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you for a brief second before focusing back on the road. ‘‘Not now, ___.’’ He insists, ‘‘I promise we can talk about anything you want the minute we’re back home, just not now.’’
‘‘Now you just need me to be perfect. Got it.’’
His grip on the wheel tightens even more, the tension radiating off him. You never make the effort to try and understand him. ‘‘You know that’s not what I’m asking,’’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘‘All I want from you is to act professional. It’s not the time or the place for this shit, ___. We can deal with everything else later.’’
You don’t agree but keep it to yourself just to save either of your energy. The rest of the ride is quiet, but far from peaceful. It takes not much longer than twenty dreadful minutes before you arrive at the grand hotel as you waste no time getting the hell out of Jungkook’s Benz to breathe some fresh air, dusting some imaginary dirt off the ends of your dress while your mini bag hangs in the crook of your arm. The valet rushes to your sides, taking care of his car keys before Jungkook leads the two of you inside with his large hand burnt to your lower back. It takes everything to keep yourself sane, to not rip his touch off you as he sends his prettiest, most charming smiles to people you only know the faces of.
The dimmed lobby is bustling with people as you make your entrance, all dressed up in their finest attire and sipping on champagne while chatting amongst themselves. The night passes uneventfully, with the occasional surge of excitement as the guests mingle and socialize. You’re grateful for the attentive staff, who makes sure your glass is full throughout the night. Mainly sticking by Jungkook’s side with champagne as your only friend, an arm looping around his own as you lean into him and fall back into your own world.
New colleagues of his stumble in left and right, and you admire your husband’s ability to remember each of their names and faces. You, on the other hand, stopped keeping track of whoever stands before you. You figured it is easier to become the wife Jungkook wants to represent you when you keep your mouth shut and merely stand there looking pretty. Designer dripping off you as your hand caresses over his chest in circles with a sweet, dimpled smile on your face.
‘‘I would’ve worn my fancy tie if you told me your girlfriend was this beautiful, Jeon,’’ a rough, low voice interrupts. ‘‘You know, the one that lightens up when you press the button.’’
Before you stand an older couple, their eyes crinkling with sweet wrinkles and sparkling with warmth the minute you lock eyes with them. They mirror you, where their arms loop together and move in perfect sync. Jungkook chuckles on your side, cute apples of his cheeks making an appearance. ‘‘Mr. and Mrs. Choi,’’ he exclaims, moving to place his hand just above the swell of your ass before pulling you closer into him, though his touch leaves a chill in its wake. ‘‘I take it you haven’t met my wife yet.’’
‘‘Oh, dear Lord,’’ the woman known as Mrs. Choi squeals as she gladly takes your hand in hers. Hers are warm and embrace yours gently, only now knowing you sipped a bit too much champagne when the movement throws you off guard. “I keep insisting that Jungkook needs to bring you to the office so I can meet this pretty face but he won’t budge,” she says, keeping your hand warm in between hers. “Now I get why he wants to keep you to himself—you’re a doll.”
You snicker a little at the comment, feeling the champagne flush at your cheeks at the older lady’s words. Jungkook’s thumb runs in small circles at your hip. “Isn’t she?” He speaks, softly pulling you towards him. “Why would I share with anyone?”
The Choi couple share smiles of delight, visibly over the moon when Jungkook pulls you closer to his side and plants a sweet kiss on your temple. “A married man,” Mr. Choi sighs with fondness in his eyes, hands gesturing your way as if to say look at you. “I wouldn’t have known for the love of God, son. It’s wonderful to witness young love well and alive.”
Jungkook wears his prettiest smile, obviously enjoying the way Mr. and Mrs. Choi worship at his feet. He takes your free hand in his own before he pulls it up for a showcase, the shining diamond around your ring finger glinstering beneath the warm lights. “We mark 7 years this season.” He seems proud as he speaks, the close lipped smile telling them all they need to know.
Mrs. Choi holds an exaggerated hand to her chest, eyes growing wide at the piece of jewelry. “You must be so proud of him,” she glows when she speaks to you. “You’ve got the office’s heartthrob in your hold, dear. I can guarantee you he’s taking that award home tonight.”
“Businessman of the Year!” Mr. Choi exclaims with theatrical hands, fading away before you. “I can see it, kid. The title looks good on you.”
“Oh, I won’t assume anything.” Jungkook snickers on your side, pretty dimples visible when he smiles. “I don’t intend on winning tonight. I’ve got strong competitors to see eye to eye.”
It’s not that you’re not proud of all that Jungkook has accomplished, but the bitter smile returns and is barely perceptible. You doubt anyone notices. Hell, Jungkook’s pride seems to consume him, too far gone to notice you straying away in his warm hold. It astounds you how his colleagues seem to put him on a pedestal, quite literally worshiping the ground he walks on and hanging onto every word he says.
“They got nothing on you.” Mrs. Choi argues with a light scoff before her toothy smile returns. “But I get it. Who wants to win some trivial award when you already got your hands on the most beautiful gem in the room, right?” She throws the compliment your way, a wink thrown in there but your stomach tightens at the words all the same.
Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you, his eyes searching for a connection that seems elusive. “You know, we’re all so consumed by the road to success that we sometimes don’t realize what we already got,” he begins, eyes back at the Choi couple when you refuse to look back at him. “If tonight ends without that award, I’d be more than content to celebrate with just the two of us. Just like we always have done—years on end.”
“That’s what love is about.” Mrs. Choi nods with a tilted head like she understands. Like you and Jungkook will go home tonight and make love with butterflies in the pit of your stomach, hearts fluttering with anticipation, and a sense of triumph in the air. She probably wouldn’t smile so wide if she knew the ground you’re standing on is not so solid. “And that’s why good things come your way, Jungkook. You do everything with so much dedication and love, you should be proud of yourself.”
“It’s true.” Mr. Choi interjects, nodding sagely as he extends a wise finger. “Take that well-deserved promotion for example. It didn’t appear out of thin air, son. You’ve worked hard to earn it.”
You still on Jungkook’s side and he can feel it in an instant. He feels your eyes on him, a piercing gaze that cuts through the chatter of the lobby. His sharp brows furrow slightly as he senses your scrutiny. His voice, tinged with a mix of anticipation and apprehension breaks the silence, hopefully able to remove that big question mark off your forehead. ‘‘Yes, the promotion,’’ He begins, now avoiding your eyes as his fingers loosen at your hip. ‘‘I suppose you’re right, Mr. Choi.’’
Mrs. Choi’s cheerful demeanor suddenly falters, replaced by concern etched onto her face. “Are you feeling alright, dear?’’ She asks you, her voice filled with genuine worry. ‘‘It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You don’t spare Mrs. Choi a single glance when she puts the focus on you, practically forcing Jungkook to lock eyes with you. Your eyes bore into his, your attention solely on Jungkook and his bewildered state. “Promotion, huh?” You say, voice tinged with a touch of resentment. The bitter tone doesn’t go unnoticed. “Funny how you never mentioned anything about a promotion, Jungkook.”
He hesitates, his hand retracting slowly, an obvious gesture of unease. “Well… it was meant to be a surprise,” He pulls out of his ass, a reassuring smile aimed at the elderly couple who already seem remorseful for bringing the topic up, apologetic smiles on their faces. “To be honest, it isn’t that big of a deal anyways. Just a small step up the corporate ladder.”
‘‘A small step up the ladder?’’ You repeat a little louder than you mean to, voice dripping with disappointment. You turn to fully face him, back turned towards Mr. and Mrs. Choi when you do your best to speak through gritted teeth. “I’m not stupid, Jungkook. I know exactly what a promotion entails.”
The room seems to hold its breath, the tension palpable as the air grows heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed grievances. The once-glowing atmosphere now feels suffocating, the sense of disconnect between you and Jungkook impossible to ignore. The weight of your words fall heavy on the tip of your tongue and your eyes tell him that you’re becoming furious, the fire in your eyes burning with an intensity that can’t be contained. How dare he? You’re hanging on to this relationship with every fiber in your body and what does he think is the solution to that? Adding hours to his already demanding contract while you continue to plan more sessions with Kang Seulgi?
Jeon Jungkook’s audacity is truly unbelievable. How could he be so blind to the problems that you’re already trying to tame? He chuckles quietly, devoid of any genuine humor. His eyes dart around the room, scanning for any sign of anyone else besides the Choi couple taking note of the tension. ‘‘I was going to tell you, it’s just that nothing is final yet. I haven’t signed anything,’’ he stammers, attempting to justify him keeping this from you.
‘‘But you were going to.’’ You snarl, jabbing an accusing finger digging into his chest. ‘’Do you even realize what you’re doing, Jungkook? It’s not a matter of when. It’s the fact that you’d do it in a heartbeat, not even taking us into consideration like any decent partner would.’’
‘‘Sweetheart,’’ Mrs. Choi’s tries to interject, voice filled with concern. ‘‘I’m sure he just wanted the moment to be special,’’ Her well-intentioned effort to comfort you falls on deaf ears with a dismissive wave of your hand. You’re not sure if you can take any more of this bullshit tonight, the surge of resentment is swelling within you.
‘‘Please, excuse us,’’ Jungkook says with a forced smile, gently pushing you forward by the small of your back, signaling you’d better walk if you want to talk some more. And walk you do, your arms crossed tightly and lips pressed into a thin line, leading the way out of the sea of people chatting about God knows what.
It doesn’t take long before Jungkook gets held up again. You don’t recognize the face of the taller man who approaches him, and neither are you interested in his being, though the blood rushes to your head when Jungkook starts talking back with that familiar sweet smile. He searches for your eye over the taller man’s shoulder, making sure you’re still there before his polite, charming grin paints his lips again like nothing is wrong. Like you aren’t ready to lose each other.
You make a beeline to the bathroom the moment you realize it. And for just a moment, you find solace from the suffocating air outside the restroom. It happens the moment you lock the door and cover your bare neck in cold tap water, the reflection in the mirror staring back at you as it seems to hit you like a train. You don’t know if you and Jungkook will ever be okay. It might be the alcohol in your system, but the tears that form in the corners of your eyes threaten to escape. It’s difficult to hold them back, but you do it somehow. You wonder if there’s any hope left over, or if this promotion is just another confirmation of his growing distance, a subtle way of telling you there’s little left over to salvage.
Three quiet knocks tap against the bathroom door. ‘‘___, it’s me,’’ his voice booms from the other side and you take a moment to recollect yourself. When you look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, tears still hang in the corners of your eyes if you pay a little attention and your throat falls dry. “Open up?” He shouldn’t see you like this. You don’t remember the last time Jungkook has seen you cry; the last time he’s seen you vulnerable.
‘‘I need a moment, Jungkook,’’ you reply, shuffling around the small space.
There’s a brief pause before he speaks again, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. ‘‘Please, just let me in. We gotta talk.’’
You hesitate for a moment, the thought of facing him now feels overwhelming. Back there, amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, you felt as if you could explode. Steam blowing out of your ears, blood rushing to your head. But right here, in this confined space,  it’s just you and him. Your eyes are slightly glossy and your lips anxiously curl inwards. You don’t know what’s coming over you. You’d much rather have him see you angry, with your head held high.
With a heavy sigh, you turn the lock, leaving the door ajar just wide enough so you can see his face. The tight purse of his lips eases when he takes in your appearance, and you swear you can see a glimmer of softness in his eyes. A flat, tattooed hand gently pushes the door open before he enters with his hands tucked in the pockets of his dress pants. Your fingers curl over the edge of the sink when you stumble back and lean against it, watching as he closes the door behind him and locks it.
Silence hangs heavily in the air, overtaking you. Neither of you can help it. There’s nothing to bicker about when it seems like you’re at the verge of breaking down, so silence it is. ‘‘Then talk,’’ you say, voice distant. ‘‘You’re not talking. You said we needed to.’’
Jungkook’s gaze flickers with something you can’t place. You hope it has something to do with regret and determination. He takes a step closer, closing the space between you. ‘‘What happened out there,’’ he starts, voice quiet when a finger points towards the door. ‘‘It was unnecessary, ___.’’
You shouldn’t have opened that door for him like a fool, expecting he wouldn’t spit in your face like that. You don’t know what it is you want him to tell you, but for some reason, you yearn for something that sounds like an apology. You stare into his eyes, searching for any sign of sincerity. ‘‘You waltz in here like that and that’s the first thing you say? Cut me some slack, Jungkook, please,’’
His jaw tenses, a sign of growing frustration. ‘‘___, we had a deal. No business mixing with whatever problems we have. Not tonight… not when tonight is supposed to be special.’’ Jungkook quietly reminds you, taking another step closer until your chests almost touch. ‘‘And as for the promotion,’’ he sighs heavily, his hand tugging at his tie with a frustrated huff. ‘‘I was going to tell you when it was just you and me–just us, away from all of these people. That was going to be our damn moment.’’ Jungkook spits, teeth grinding together as his brows furrow. ‘‘They had no business opening their mouths on it, but they did anyway. So if you want to be mad, then fine, do your thing. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, but you did.’’
The small room feels suffocating, tension building with each passing second. Your tears are long forgotten every time he opens that big mouth of his, because the anger seems to consume you. ‘‘I don’t fucking care about any of that,’’ you scoff, pushing yourself off the edge of the sink with a head held high. Now you’re the one stepping closer. ‘‘It’s the idea that you would even accept all those extra hours and responsibilities when you know,’’ there is a heavy pause for you to catch your breath, a finger digging so deep in his chest it makes him stumble back a step. ‘‘When you know what is going to happen to us if you take this.’’
Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his own frustration surfacing. ‘‘And what’s happening?’’ He retorts, his voice filled with defiance. ‘‘How can you expect me to turn an opportunity like this down when I’ve worked so hard for it? I worked my ass off for this, proved my fucking worth and ended up deserving it. I haven’t even reached the age of 30 and chances like these don’t just appear out of thin air, ___. I’ve got colleagues twice my age trying to achieve what is waiting for me to grasp.’’
The intensity of the argument rises, voices echoing off the walls and you’re sure people passing on the outside hear every word. You scoff, a humorless laugh escapes you. ‘‘So this is all about your precious career, isn’t it?’’ You hold up your hand, where your wedding ring catches his eye. ‘‘You made me a promise, too. Long ago, before you knew any of those people you’re trying to prove your worth to.’’
Jungkook’s face flushes with frustration, his hands clenched into fists before they settle at your hips and shoves you back until you’re leaned against the sink again. Though not too harsh. He is never too harsh. ‘‘Why can you never be satisfied?’’ He mumbles, anger giving way to hurt. ‘‘This is my chance to provide for us, to make sure we have a future that we deserve living. Why won’t you support me, be by my fucking side?’’
Bitter laughter escapes your lips, almost grazing his own. ‘‘Support you? How can I support you when you’re digging us deeper into the ground? We’re already so close to reaching the fucking limits. So close to becoming everything we’re trying not to be and then you continue on to pull this crap? It’s like you’re waiting for us to call it quits.”
Jungkook’s anger simmers beneath the surface, his grip on your hips tightening as he fully closes the distance between your bodies. His dark, sharp gaze is fixed on you, the air between you crackling with tension at the false accusation. A blend of frustration and desire when you meet his intense gaze, the moment overwhelming you, and without a word, he closes the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate, fiery kiss.
The kiss is fueled by a mix of anger and desire, the electricity between you undeniable. Each touch and movement speaks volumes, conveying a complex blend of emotions that words fail to express. As your lips move against his, you can feel the weight of the argument still hanging in the air, but for a moment, it's forgotten. Until he speaks against you. ‘‘That’s the last time you’re gonna accuse me of something so ridiculous. Got it?’’
Between heated kisses, angry whispers escape your lips. "You can't just expect me to follow blindly," you mutter, your voice laced with frustration. "We're too close to the edge already."
Jungkook’s hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his voice husky as he responds. ‘‘I know, but I’m trying.’’
It is all he says, and you fight the urge to say something back just because you feel like you’ve had enough for one night. You’re the one to pull away first, a flat hand to his hard chest as you push him off with ease, no fight, no nothing. The momentary connection fades and a sense of unease settles between you. You exchange a final gaze, unresolved emotions and unspoken words clear in the air. It’s obvious that the underlying issue remains unresolved, and with that, you both walk out of the ladies’ room together. Side by side, like everything is fine. The bitter taste of the argument still hangs onto your tongues but you choose to ignore it even though there is no way you can get rid of it tonight.
Jungkook stops before the bustling crowd, causing you to stop in your tracks as well. His hand delves into the inner pocket of his jack, retrieving his wallet as he goes through the contents. With a subdued voice, he offers you his card. ‘‘Here,’’ he says quietly. ‘‘Go buy yourself something to drink. I’ll be over there talking to some people if you need me.’’
You accept the money silently, a slight nod of acknowledgement before you part ways, heading toward the bar while Jungkook navigates through the crowd. As you order your drink, the bitterness of the argument still weighs on your mind, the unresolved issues swirling in your thoughts.
Your husband hasn’t spared you much of a second glance after he handed you the money, already too busy mingling with his colleagues to notice that the bottom of your cocktail glass is starting to show. As he brings his own glass back to his pretty lips to sip on his dry wine all the way on the other side of the lobby, you continue to listen to the nameless people around you and the award he might be winning tonight. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—it might drive you crazy.
It drives you crazy, and you would probably never admit it out loud, but you feel smaller without Jungkook’s presence so close to you, without his arm secured around your waist, your chest tighter than he seems to realize. You don’t need him to feel confident, you know. You don’t need any man in order to make you feel secure about yourself. Though tonight, even though it is only for a little while, his absence feels a little more pronounced than usual, and you don’t like to feel like some fraught, single woman in her late 20s. It unsettles you, and you don’t mean to feel like it.
You’re counting fifteen minutes when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long. Jungkook seems to be in his element, watching as you occasionally meet his eye from across the room before he rips his gaze off you, interrupted by another coworker every two minutes as they block your sight. More small talk with the man of the night as he’s sucking it up like second nature. Adoring the constant praises he’s receiving throughout the entire event. A charming smile paints his features, one that makes him look smug as hell.
“That dress makes up for the fact that you look like you don’t want to be found dead in here.” A low voice booms from behind the bar, “Valentino, no?”
The rim of the cocktail glass in your hand detaches from your lips when you realize you’re being spoken to, another spot painted a smoked almond shade at the edge. “Good eye,” you nod, high heels impatiently tapping against the steel of the barstool. It’s the first interaction since the Choi couple took notice of your distress, and suddenly, you feel a little less invincible. .
“I know a thing or two.” The owner of the velvety voice reveals himself, emerging from behind the massive camera cradled in his veiny hands. Smooth, jet black curls cascade over his forehead as a troublesome grin broadens on the unknown’s glistening lips. He briefly catches your eye before shifting his focus back to the display in his grip. Rounding the bar, he comes to sit at the edge of the stool next to you. “You seem to be a natural. Ever thought of a career shift and dropping this business ordeal?”
The picture on the display reveals. It’s not bad, you look greater than any other night, the effort you put in tonight’s look clear to see. But he’s joking, though you can barely crack a smile. “Oh, please, I’m just a plus one.”
“I see.” The man who you now assume to be tonight’s cameraman leans over the edge of the bar as he allows his camera to hang low at his neck. He subtly searches for your eye and when you meet his gaze, indicating that he’s got your attention, he pulls his focus back to the crowd, a finger beneath his nose as if he’s deep in thought. “So, which one of those pricks is responsible for making you sit here by yourself all night?”
You roll your eyes but a suppressed snicker betrays your amusement, prompting the corners of his own mouth to lift as well. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore the derogatory remark about your husband, though it might feel good if someone else would openly share your sentiments right now. “The same prick I’ve been with for the past six years,” you point Jungkook’s way when you speak, leaning a little more to the man’s side to give a good point of view. “He’s a busy guy,” you remark, Jungkook looking devilishly expensive when he’s networking, his navy blue Prada suit shimmering beneath the dim lightning. His jet black hair is slicked back and he’s never looked sexier before. Such a shame you’re not talking.
“The man of the night himself.” The guy huffs at your side, back leaning against the bar as he’s no longer interested in Jungkook, eye solely on you now. “I’m not really supposed to shoot plus ones tonight, he’d have to be in the picture for that,” he taps at his camera. “A shame he’s too busy to bat an eye when she’s looking this lovely tonight.”
A dagger to the heart, but you take it lightly. You pause as you finally take a good look into this sharp, cat-like gaze of his. A sly looking smile tugs at the corners of his lips when your eyes meet. “Complimenting a married woman? How audacious of you.”
He shrugs indifferently. “He isn’t doing it, so,” he says nonchalantly before he pulls himself together, a polite hand to his chest when he speaks. “Pardon me. It’s just that I’ve never been good at keeping thoughts to myself.”
You cock a single brow. “Is that so?”
He catches on to the challenge that’s hidden in your voice, the slight attitude you’re subtly bringing over. He pauses for a moment, reading your face before he continues. “Yeah,” he confirms quietly, though his voice is low enough to recall mischief. His eyes lower a little down your dress before he takes out his hand. “Kim Taehyung. I’m tonight’s photographer.”
You accept his hand, hot and tight around your own. It feels refreshing in some way or another, his eyes locking with yours again when his head tilts just slightly, tongue slipping out to wet his pink lips. “It’s good to meet you,” You tell him, returning your prettiest smile, “I’m ___.”
Taehyung stills. “God damn.” He curses quietly, just a whisper above his breath. “I knew you had to be from someplace else—you’re one of Minnie’s girls.”
His words take time to process. There is only one Minnie you’d know. “You mean, Minnie Chang?” You query, frowning when his knowing finger bounces your way. “My modeling agent? You know her?”
“Sure,” he beams, shoulders visibly relaxing as he sits at the edge of his seat. “I run shoots with Minnie’s girls all the time. We just wrapped up an upcoming November issue. It’s such a pity she never sets me up to shoot your covers, we use your references all the time.” His sharp eyes darken, running down your figure again. “We’d kill the job together, if you’d ask me.”
Your cheeks flush a little at the statement. “Oh, well, we probably would.” You stumble, still trying to catch on. “Though Minnie no longer works for me. I quit modeling some time ago, which is probably why we never worked together.”
Taehyung’s pretty lips part when his head tilts even more, a light and humorless chuckle escaping. “I mean, do tell me you’re screwing with me.” The smile ghosts his lips, though this time a little died down. Your silence answers his questions and the sheepish grin only adds on to it. “Forgive me for being so straightforward, but I’ve seen your works, ___. No one in their right mind would want to give such potential up for some mingling on the side bar.”
Taehyung jokes again but there’s a bit of truth hidden in it, and neither of you dare to laugh too loudly over it. You sigh, bringing the glass back to your lips even though your drink is almost finished. “You’d be surprised what love does to people.” You chuckle but it holds no humor, you just sound so ironic. Taehyung’s eyes rip away from you to scan the lobby in search for the man in question, easily found in the sea of people because Jeon Jungkook just works like that. Wherever he goes, your husband seems to carry this magnetism with him. People fall in love with him left and right, and you don’t blame them for it. Look at where you are. “I wanted to go wherever he went. Now I’m just trying to live up to the consequences.”
Taehyung hears as you try to laugh it off, chuckling softly and unable to match your energy. “I’ll give you my card,” he then decides, digging into the inner pocket of his jacket as a set of protests already stumble off your lips. “No buts,” he warns. “My office line is on there. Do whatever you want with it, but just know that you can always hit my line whenever you’re done dealing with the consequences.”
“Taehyung,” you start but it holds no weight, watching as he nips the piece of paper in between his fingers. “You don’t gotta do that.” His eyes draw back to your lips before they flicker back to meet your gaze, the curly locks at his forehead almost preventing you from doing so, seemingly darkening his eyes.
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t have to be anything big, ___.” His voice lowers, deepening as his breath almost fans your cheeks. It’s hot. A little alarming. “I own a studio downtown where we could meet up someday. I’ll shoot us a couple photos, and if you want, we could add some to your portfolio. If it feels right, you’ll know,” he says, clearly catching on to the glint in your eyes. “If it doesn’t, then all I am is wrong. But you can’t convince me you’re feeling content, sitting on the sidebar waiting for that idiot to come to his senses.”
You know Taehyung just earned himself a slap across the cheek for the degrading comments about Jungkook. For the assumptions he’s so quick to make when he’s met you five minutes ago. Probably no less than a hard push against the shoulder too, but you hold back from doing so when his words speak to you in some way. Somewhere not so deep down, you know Taehyung made some points. It has nothing to do with the rich cologne that embraces you when he stands this close, or the darkened gaze that tries to meet your own when you rip your eyes away.
“Take it.” He waves his card in the air before he gently tosses it at the bar in front, next to your empty glass. “I don’t expect you to do anything with it, but it’d feel good knowing you have it. Who knows what good it’ll bring.”
You don’t hesitate but pause anyway, meeting his eye and the moment that famous grin paints his lips, you can’t stop yourself from copying it. “Thank you. I’ll keep it somewhere safe.” You say, taking his card.
It surprises you how at ease Taehyung makes you feel afterwards. Once his card is out of sight, hidden in the safety of your handbag, he doesn’t pry further about any more modeling shoots or your forgotten career. Nor does he bring Jungkook up again, even though everyone else around you can’t seem to shut up about the man. It’s a peaceful feeling, distracted from the eye of reality because of this man who excels at making small talk. He’s chatting away about his camera, pointing at elements you don’t know the names of as he explains the functions of them.
You don’t listen. You haven’t been listening for a while and wonder how you stumbled upon this topic instead. It’s not a bad thing; Kim Taehyung makes you feel comfortable and that’s all there is to it. You appreciate him for fading your surroundings off.
It doesn't take long before a large hand rests above the swell of your ass, stroking sweet circles there. “Are you ready? They’ll start presenting the awards soon.” Jungkook’s voice booms at your left, sending a jolt of surprise through your body. You turn to face him, finding him standing there with his usual confident demeanor, contrasting with the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The touch of his hand on your backside feels a little more possessive the longer you take your time to respond.
You glance over at Taehyung, who also seems to have noticed the change of atmosphere. His expression remains composed, a hint of curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you say before you hop off the barstool and recollect yourself. “It was so good meeting you, Taehyung. I hope we get to talking soon.” You slide your mini bag over your shoulder, an apologetic smile at your lips. “I’m sorry for keeping you so occupied, I know you’re on the clock.”
His lips only curl into a warm smile that seems to reassure you, a small shake of his head shrugging you off as if to say you shouldn’t have to worry. Your attention reverts back to Jungkook, noting that his gaze is already fixed on you as he searches for something you can’t decipher. “Okay, I’m ready,” you repeat, this time a little more determined. He nods quietly, hand curling at your waist before he leads you the way towards the ceremony, eager to be gone, but not before he steals a look at the older man by the bar, tongue in his cheek. A hint of playful defiance glimmers in Taehyung’s eyes and Jungkook wouldn’t know for the love of God what it means.
The following hour ends up not being as dreadful as the previous ones. Jungkook still guides you throughout the night with prolonged small talk and half-filled champagne glasses which you’ve grown tired of drinking. Nobody is paying attention to the wife of, much to your luck, because it gives you the opportunity to slip into your own world with Jungkook’s hand still snaked around your waist. Taehyung’s words ghost your head instead, and as much as you try not to, you sneak a glance his way every now and then.
You can’t help it. It’s been some time since someone recognized you as anybody else than Mrs. Jeon Jungkook. The lucky one who gets to wear designer dresses and expensive jewelry with a zipped mouth on her face. The brief minutes spent with Taehyung were cut short, but reminded you of your own persona. So hidden behind the shadows of Jungkook’s success that you almost forgot you once had built the start up of a successful career as well.
You can’t think in this room. The warm air is rising to your head and all you can hear is the low murmurs of Jungkook and his colleagues at your table. You start to wonder things. Big things. Like, what if Taehyung wasn’t the only person who believed in continuing the neglected modeling career you were so desperate to let go of some time ago? What if he wasn’t the only one and you’re just meant to find the right people to support you? What if that dream was worth pursuing, now still, after all this time accepting this is what your life was going to be like; a bitter housewife in the suburbs forever holding on to a forgotten career.
“Everything okay?” Jungkook queries on your side, eyes lingering on you for too long and you don’t care to return it. His hand travels to your upper thigh beneath the table cloth but you barely process it, head too clouded with whatever you’re worrying about to take notice. “You seem distracted.” He says, his large hand resting there without much thought, warming the skin up as he gently starts rubbing in circles.
“Yes,” you say though there is a pause to it, one where you hold your breath as you wonder if you should say more. You know he doesn’t like it when things start getting personal when all these people surround you, but you’re so close to the edge. You turn to him, knees touching. “I just need some fresh air. Hand me the car keys?”
He stares at you for a moment, a look shared that tells you he’s trying to read you even when you’re shutting him out. An arm lazily rests atop the backrest of your chair as he sighs through his nose. “They’re starting soon.” He breathes out like he hasn’t said it a thousand times already. “And you’ve been drinking. I’m not handing you anything.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m not drunk and I’m not driving. I’m just gonna sit in the car and take a moment for myself.” it’s your turn to sigh, a bite to your words that Jungkook easily catches on to. His eyes narrow, lips growing into a thin line. “What is it, are you not allowing me?”
His chest grows tight when he hears your words, the sassy attitude not gone by dismissed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Can’t you take half an hour longer?” His voice lowers in case anyone overhears, the back of his fingers reaching to stroke over your cheek softly. “Batting those pretty lashes the way you do it so well?”
His comment flies to your head, hitting you like a slap to the face and you search his eyes for some sort of sincerity. Some sort of remorse for spitting that degrading shit in your face like that. You notice the way people perceive you as the wife of Jeon, how they look at you because you’re just one of his pretty things. You’re aware. And you don’t need anyone to tell you, because you could care less about them. Though when the confirmation slips from Jungkook’s lips, you swear he turns the switch inside you.
“You’re an ass.” The feet of your chair screech loudly against the floor tiles of the lobby, the sound of it making heads turn your way with curious gazes. And unlike your husband, who seems troubled upon the sudden attention, you couldn’t care less, storming out of the quiet lobby like your Jimmy Choo heels are meant for you to stomp off the way you do.
You hear a faint call of your name even though it doesn’t take long before you reach the main entrance doors and fumble your way out. The anger rises to your head and you consider you might have done Jungkook a favor with the way you made it out so quickly.
It takes a couple minutes before the swinging doors you just erupted from come to a loud shut once more, revealing a heated Jungkook sauntering down the stairs. “Get moving. You were the one who wanted to go home,” He doesn’t spare you another glance when he passes you by with a pinched expression. Both your jackets hang from his arm but he doesn’t care to hand you yours, quick to rush to his Benz with you right behind him.
The only sound that fills the air is the angry stomping of your feet, Jungkook’s not as prominent as your own heels clack loudly against the pavement. “I just needed a minute out. I never said you couldn’t finish your little act in there,” you retort, frustration lacing your voice.
He opts to ignore your remark at first, jaw set and focus straight ahead. Though the more he repeats your words in the back of his head, the faster his own spill out. “I asked you not to throw a scene and you go ahead and do it anyway,” he sneers, unlocking the back door before he throws your coats on the backseats. Slamming it just as loud. “For what, ___? Couldn’t stand not being the center of attention for one night so you pull this shit?”
Jungkook is fast to open the door to the driver’s seat but you beat him to it. Slamming his door back shut only to earn one of his lethal, disturbed looks. “You take that back.” You point an accusing finger his way, trapping yourself between his hovering body and the car. “For years, I’ve been tagging along to these stupid events like some luxury piece on the side. Supporting and loving you from behind your huge ego,” you huff, a pillow of air rushing from your lips and into the icy air. “All the while you choose to show me off whenever you feel like it when I’ve been happier for you than anyone in there—’’
“Have you?” His lips curl inwards, sharp eyebrows tightening. “Because the second you heard about some promotion, a couple more hours added to my contract, you start freaking out. Running out there like the world revolves around you. I hate to break it to you, but it doesn’t, ___. Get it out of your head.”
“Jungkook—“
“I don’t want to hear it.” He quickly waves you off, pointing an angry finger back to the building you just came out of. “You know I’m winning an award at this very moment? I’m reaching the tip of the iceberg tonight, and instead of celebrating it, I’m out here trying to keep you sane.” Jungkook grunts, hand falling back to his side. “I didn’t see Jung fucking Hoseok do that last year when he won that damn award. His partner stood beside him, supporting him while he accepted the prize.”
You maintain eye contact, no matter how much fire swims in his gaze. “I know you didn’t just compare me to your coworker’s wife.” You scoff loudly, “Jung Hoseok probably has the decency to include his partner in every major decision he makes. Including promotions that will require your everything, Jungkook. If that was our case,” your finger swats back and forth between your raging bodies, “then yes, I would love to be that kind of wife for us. But I’ve done that for a long time. I can no longer be like her.”
Jungkook groans, stepping closer and causing you to press your back flat against his Benz. “Maybe Jung Hoseok works his ass off to earn such a prize in the first place, knowing his wife is there. On his side. No matter the case.”
“Well, maybe that is because Jung Hoseok and his wife never stopped loving each other!”
Little puffs of air escape your lips and the statement leaves you a little breathless when realization strikes through. They mold together with Jungkook’s, who also seems to need a moment to register whatever it was you just spat in his face. His aura changes not much longer after, eyes digging into yours with the tip of his tongue running over the back of his teeth. Jaw set tight with a dare running in his gaze. He looks down at you with heavy lids, and when you stay quiet for longer than he was hoping, he speaks up. Though the voice is low enough to pass as a warning.
“You want to repeat that for me?”
You sigh, closing your eyes as you try to place a somewhat reassuring hand to his burning chest, it’s hot and under fire beneath your palm. You didn’t mean to slap him across the face like that. “Jungkook, I didn’t mean you and I—’’
“I don’t care what the fuck you meant.” He says slowly, swatting your hand off him with an intense gaze. “Repeat that for me.”
You shake your head, keeping it up high even with the way he’s looking down on you. You can stand your own ground as well as him. “Kook, I’m not going to repeat myself when I didn’t mean to say that.” You argue, arms folding.
Jungkook locks eyes for much longer than is necessary, like he doesn’t believe you and he’s trying to find some sort of truth in them instead. Hands now situated in the pockets of his dress pants, he leans his weight down on one leg. “Then get in the car.” He then simply says, tone a bit too composed to ease you down. “We’re going home.”
“No,” you argue back with a stern voice. You’re both upset, incredibly so. The last thing you need to do right now is push your anger to the sidelines. “We’re not done talking, Jungkook.”
“We’re done.” He’s quick to tell you, taking a step back before and impatient, sharp eyebrow arches. The weight of his body on one leg. “I said, get in the car, ___. You wanted to go home? Let’s go fucking home.”
The bite in his voice is evident to send the warning through. He is just standing there, hands casually hidden in his pockets as he glares down at you, patiently waiting for you to get moving. You shoot him a look, something that says something along the lines of, seriously, this is how we’re gonna do this? He nods once. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s all you’ll get.
Fine. Two of you can be just as petty.
Jungkook is quick to get in the driver’s seat when you huff and round the car, the silence quick enough to break through the tight space once the doors slam shut. For a brief moment, the two of you just sit there, gazing at the packed parking lot without another word exchanged. You know Jungkook needs a moment to collect himself before he gets off driving you both home, but he is not the only one in desperate need to let go of some steam. The tight gripped hand around the wheel, where his knuckles turn a pale white is telling you enough about his current state. He hasn’t even stuck the key in the ignition yet and that might be for the better.
He finally looks at you without a word and you don’t back down from the challenge. He still fumes with fire when your gazes meet, lips tightly pressed together. The man watches you like a hawk, right hand still planted at the steering wheel as he stares back down at you from over his shoulder—seemingly no intention to drive off anytime soon. You seem to glow with a heated bitterness and he finds himself feeling a similar way. It does little to intimidate you, though.
Rage consumes you and the silence only seems to worsen it. You’ll have to voice your thoughts or you might go feral. “I can’t believe you’re acting like a child.”
He scoffs, bits of amusement tugging at the edges of his lips. “Don’t get me started, princess.”
Jeon Jungkook is an unbelievable man.
Your eyes narrow, challenging him. “Go get started, Kook,” a dare drips off your mocking voice, low and anticipating when you raise a single brow. ‘‘I don’t mind.’’
And just like that, something in the air shifts. Maybe it’s the way his eyes drag down your glossy lips without an ounce of shame, or the noticeable fact that his pants are starting to tighten around his crotch area. Your eyes fall down there. You can’t helpt, and neither do you mean to hide it.
“You don’t want me to, baby. Trust me.” He asserts, tone firm and unwavering.
“Try me.”
Time seems to go still and Jungkook seems like he’s hesitant, eyes flickering down your lips one or two times too many. There’s not much sentiment found on his features. No pretty little smile at the lips, and no softened gaze roundening his eyes. Instead, his jawline is locked so tight, you’re able to catch each huff and puff that leaves him. The silent battle of wills unfolds between you. There is a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, as if debating whether to succumb to your request or stand his ground.
However, Jungkook is a raging mess, all he needs right now is an outlet.
“Damn it,” He curses before he slams his lips onto yours. A surprised, muffled gasp falls from your mouth into his when your noses angrily collide, finding the right amount of balance when a tattooed hand reaches the back of your neck to keep you in place. His lips feel velvety against yours, soft and inviting despite the intensity of his movements. Even though his moves are much rougher. Much more raw.
You respond to the passionate kiss with the same intensity, kissing him back just as hard with your hand steady at his jaw. His own hand hides at your nape, both of you hovering over the storage box in between your seats like two horny teenagers hiding in his big brother’s car. Moans escape his lips and resonate against yours. Youthful desire builds the intensity, sending sweet tingles straight to your core.
‘‘Fuck, come here,’’ Jungkook utters, exhaling heavily as he settles back into his seat.
Not one to resist, you swiftly maneuver your way into the driver’s seat, straddling him with both legs on his either side. His hands instinctively find place at your lips as you lean in to capture his lips in a heated, messy kiss where you hold onto his jaw and push the back of his head to his seat. However, tonight is not like any other night. Tonight, he can’t let you take control.
Jungkook’s kisses become fervent as he pushes you against the steering wheel with a bit more force than intended, causing it to dig into your back with a sharp yelp eliciting into the air. The soft gasp you breathe out as you try to catch on easily gets ignored by him. Still adjusting to the rapid pace, his hands tenderly explore your backside, rubbing in sweet circles before moving down to roam over your ass.
His slender fingers carefully tug at the hem of your dress before he rushes to ride it up your thighs, just until your bare ass hovers above the growing bulge that’s hidden away in the dress pants that now seem too tight around his thighs for his own good. It is no longer something you could ignore even if you wanted to. Not with the way his cock throbs against your panties; the thin material of his slacks not helping much to create a decent barrier.
Nonetheless, you don’t seem to care when you shamelessly start to grind down on his clothed erection. He groans on your skin when you throw your head back, fingers playing while they tangle through his slick locks as if to guide his mouth. “Sit still,” he angrily mumbles, though he doesn’t try to still your hips from humping onto him.
“Don’t wanna,” you stubbornly mutter in response, tugging tighter at his hair in the hopes of a response. You have to hold the evil smirk that's threatening at your lips when you shift back and forth in his lap with a much quicker, more dangerous pace. “Make me?”
His mouth stills at your neck and a rush of satisfaction wavers over you. Jungkook’s hot breath fans over the same spot his lips were just pressed against, slow to look back up at you. Only to find you grinning in his lap like a fool. “You got such a big mouth on you tonight.” He murmurs so close to your lips like he’s planning on kissing you again. Heavy lidded eyes stare back at you in the dark when his middle finger hooks around the lace of your thong at your ass. “Such a big mouth but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. What a terrible trait, sweetheart.” He teasingly tugs at the thong, rubbing the material in between your sweet cheeks.
Your hands reach behind you, reaching for the zipper at the back of the dress before you start to unzip it. “I know what I’m getting myself into.” You sing, tweaking the straps off your shoulders with a teasing grin. What are you waiting for? Undress me, is what your eyes tell.
God. He can’t stand you.
His lips are on yours within a heartbeat. And neither of you plan to let go without a fight.
It’s like both of you are fighting for dominance over the other as the kiss grows more intense. Noses angrily bump into each other, teeth clash and bite into the already swollen flesh of your lips. You’re so engrossed in the lip biting and breath sharing that you barely realize Jungkook pulling down your dress with force, the latex now hunched around your waist to reveal your bare chest. It is only when his fingers reach out to pinch your hardened nipples when you break free from him, the sensitivity growing into excitement before it runs straight to your core.
“Hm, so sensitive baby.” Jungkook hums with a pleased grin threatening on his face, pinching a few more times at the sensitive buds. “I have a feeling you’re all bark and no bite tonight. How come?” He asks quietly. “Felt ignored because I didn’t look at your pretty tits all night? ‘Specially when they’re looking so nice and swollen for me right now, mhm?”
He dives down and wraps his pretty lips around the perky bud when you don’t respond on time, tonguing and nipping until he can hear you squirm on top of him. “I knew that was it.” He mumbles, letting go with a lewd pop. You almost don’t catch it with how low he is speaking, almost like you’re not even meant to hear him in the first place. His tattooed hand gently massages your other breast in the warmth of his palm. “Baby feels neglected the moment the focus isn’t on her. Ain’t that funny?” He chuckles humorlessly, something far away from genuine laughter and you don’t manage to crack a smile either. “Now she’s on top of my cock waiting to get fucked like she wasn’t acting like a total brat back there. Like brats deserve to get fucked nice and slow.”
You push Jungkook back against his seat by the chest, his head lazily lolling back without much surprise as he patiently waits for your next move with a darkened gaze. He knew he was going to press your buttons some time soon. Both your heart and head are fuming. “Not true.” You argue weakly before you decide it’s your turn to pepper angry kisses at the silky skin of his neck. Your grip tightens at his throat, right beneath his jaw. Only to keep him still, you convince yourself. “You’re an asshole. You know that, right?” You mumble against the hot skin, surprised he’s able to understand your muffled words.
Your hand isn’t that secure around his throat, but he decides to play along nonetheless, keeping his head locked to his seat. “So I’ve heard, sweetheart.”
You ignore the cheeky comment and instead allow your free hand to fumble with the leather belt wrapped so deliciously around his hips. You continue biting and licking in the crook of his neck, not caring if any purple marks find their way there. Jungkook swallows back a whimper of relief when your hasty hands unbuckle his gold coated Montblanc belt. His dress pants aren’t even supposed to be this tight fitted around his crotch area, even when he’s hard. Though it’s no secret Jungkook has been working on his thigh muscles throughout the years. And to say it has served him right would be an understatement.
“Take me out, sweetheart.” He breathes when you dip your hand inside, not yet granting him the pleasure of pulling out his cock just yet. Cupping him over his boxers instead, you suck his quiet moans up like second nature.
Jungkook’s hips eagerly buckle into your grasp and you contemplate on giving him the satisfaction this early on, because even you are growing impatient. Instead, you continue stroking his cock over his boxers, rubbing up and down his length with more pressure as you watch him exhale through his nose. Jungkook’s adams apple moves at his throat when he swallows tightly, eyes shutting in frustration.
You bring your lips to graze over his cheek, so sweet and romantically as the two of you are. Hot and sharp breaths fan on his skin. “Stop bossing me around, will you, Kook?”
He breathes lowly; still through his nose as his chest heaves up and down. Almost like he’s holding himself back from doing things you can’t handle. “Spoiled girls need someone to boss them around.” A sharp sting tingles at your ass, realizing he just spanked you there, the sudden cry you let out in the shell of his ear explaining why his large hands are now soothingly caressing the sensitive skin. “They turn into brats the minute someone doesn’t put them in place. Did you already forget the way you acted tonight, babe?”
He gently continues to knead your ass in his big hands. “You’re just as responsible as I am for that.” You whimper weakly, deciding you’ve had enough when you take Jungkook’s thick cock in hand and out of his pants and boxers. He’s warm, heavy and angry in your grip, red and swollen tip staring back at you when he’s fully out. You raise a brow at the sight. “But it seems like you don’t mind it right now.”
Jungkook isn’t sure what he despises more at the moment. The way the shit-eating grin on your face only seems to spread the longer victory consumes you, or the way his dick twitches when your hand tightens around his shaft. Jungkook holds back his grunts. Adding free coins to your egoism is the least bullet point on his to-do list.
“Careful,” he speaks with a warning, eyes flickering back down your lips before the tips of his fingers slide down your covered slit from the back. They rasp against the black lace a little before he adds more pressure where your hole is covered, content to feel your soaked cunt leaking through the fabric. Continuing to feel up to the damp spot, he speaks. “You’re not one to talk when you’re dripping like this. Take this off for me, sweetheart.” He hints at your panties even though he is the one dragging the lace down your legs already.
For as far as his cramped Mercedes allows you to reach down atop his muscled thighs, you make sure you’re at a safe distance before a chunk of spit runs off your lips and onto his throbbing cock. Jungkook groans loudly, hips rutting up when you start pumping him with a tight grasp. You maintain eye contact while you do so, addicted to the way his hazy gaze angrily stares back at you, free hand moving to knead his balls. Your thumb grazes over the head, silently massaging his slit where you spread the precum over the rest of his leaking cock.
“Fuck,” you curse, the wetness coating your fingers. “Want you in my mouth.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Yeah.” You repeat.
Jungkook’s hands tighten at your waist, digging into your skin. “None of that.” He then mumbles, earning a confused frown from you. “Rub yourself against my cock, baby. Need to feel how wet this tight cunt is for me.”
“God.” You roll your eyes like you mean it, but your pussy starts to throb at the thought already. He knows it does. How could he not? Jeon Jungkook knows you from the inside out; knows what you like and what you don’t like. Six years of being with you has taught him that much. And because of that, Jungkook is not one to wait around for you to make your move and pushes his hands harder at your hips instead, guiding your bare cunt towards his cock.
“That’s it.” Jungkook lets out a low groan from the base of his throat, the pressure at your hips slacking down once you take over with a slower, more experimental pace. His head falls back and his thick neck comes into view instead, velvety skin on display when your cold fingers hide to intertwine at his nape again. Wet lips drag over his cock and spread wider the more pressure you add. “Look at you soaking my cock like you’re ready to ride it. As if girls like you deserve to be stretched out in the first place.”
“I deserve it.” You nearly stutter when you find the right amount of pressure, your clit now directly rubbing against his head.
He hums softly at your engrossed self. “Yeah?” He continues to ask. “You think you deserve to fuck yourself off on this cock?”
You can only nod in return when your pace increases and eyes shut tight. Jungkook takes sight of the teeth that dig into your lower lip and nails that scratch at the skin at the back of his neck. He moans a little at the sharp feel, his own chest heaving up and down when the blood rushes to his cock. “Can’t hear you, baby.” He pushes when you continue to rock against him without another word, his tattooed hand spanking your ass cheek again to grab your attention. “Need words to decide if I’m letting you ride me.”
It’s not an easy job to pry your eyes open again when your cunt is so deliciously dragging against him, but you manage to do so with heavy lids. “Not to bruise your ego, babe,” you breathe out, thumb padding on his slit as if addressing an obvious issue at hand. “But you’re not really in a position to make demands either.”
He huffs out some air, the warmth of it fanning against your lips. You know you’ve got him trapped without a comeback to throw back in your face when he pierces a single brow. “You should really do something about that mouth.”
“Thought you said you were gonna take care of that.” You boldly recall, clearly challenging him. “Or are you backing out so soon?”
Jungkook doesn’t care enough to defend himself against your assumptions. Instead, he nods his head to the backseat. “Get back there.” He instructs with pressed brows. “You won’t be so smart when you’re coming on my tongue.”
A dramatic sigh leaves your lips like you’re tired. Hands cupping his cheeks sweetly, the back of his head easily lolls to his seat so he looks up at you with those darkened, dangerous eyes. You take him into a slow and wet kiss where your lips seem to dance together in unison, breathing heavily into each other until his tongue presses between your parted lips in an attempt to enter. But you pull away on time. Still, only inches away from his face, his eyes glued to your lips. “You don’t have to eat me out. I can take you right now.” You heave with swollen lips brushing his.
“You know I don’t mind,” Jungkook frowns a little at the odd statement, fingers absentmindedly running circles at your hips again.
“I know you don’t.” You’re quick to speak, hands moving to rub at his shoulders. “But Kook,” you whine with an obvious pout, removing his grip off your hips before you guide his fingers to your dripping cunt, voice sweeter than candy as you watch him observing quietly. “Feel me—I’m so wet for you. Can’t I have you right now?”
A sense of relief already rushes through you when Jungkook’s fingers carefully pad at your wet lips, spreading them apart with a clear string of fluid sticking to his fingertips. “You’re soaked,” he says like you don’t already know, and you can only nod in agreement, the glossed and pouty lips never leaving your face. His cock grows harder in his pants at the feel of your hand cupping his own, hips rolling into his palm. “I won’t hurt you because we’re being eager, though.”
“Aw, come on babe,” you whimper like a little child. “I’ll let you know if it hurts...”
You watch him hesitate for a bit, playing it off when his finger sinks into your warmth. Subtle and careful at first, focusing on the way your walls tighten around the thick digit. You’re sucking him up like he’s meant to be there, silent moans hanging in the base of your throat when he starts pumping inside of you, deliciously curling at your walls. “I see what this is about,” you say with an edge cut sharp, a moan already at the tip of your tongue when his pace increases. ‘‘You’re scared you’ll bust the moment you’re in deep.”
You’re obviously teasing him. Evident in the way your heavy eyes fall down on him with a slight curve at the corners of your lips. He scoffs anyways, your words getting to him whether you’re joking or not. “Please,” he laughs, a humorless chuckle thrown in your face. “We both know I got you creaming around my cock before I even get the chance to.”
You tug a little at his long, jet black locks that were slicked back so perfectly before. Watching as his head rocks back at the action. “Show me? Make me regret assuming.”
He visibly gulps, but not out of nervosity. No, Jeon Jungkook rarely gets nervous, especially not around the woman he spent a total of six years with. Instead, he wonders what to do with you and your crazy attitude. There is a quiet dare you’re exchanging and he catches on just as fast. Never being one to sit back down on a challenge. Especially not when it comes to you and your sneaky games. Though truth be told, Jungkook can be just as devious as you do it.
“Ride me, sweetheart.”
Jungkook’s green card causes your devious lips to form back into the familiar sweeping grin while your excitement flows straight to your cunt. You palm his cock in your hand, feeling as he gets harder in your hold at the sensation. Lining him up between your lips, Jungkook is found having a hard time keeping himself sane, watching you with thoughts drowning him as the head disappears in your tight pussy, already sucking him up like you’ve never taken him before. “Good girl. Go nice and slow for me.” He grunts quietly, fingers digging harder at your sides the lower you sink down and onto his cock. “So good to me whenever you want to, hm?”
Your head falls to rest in the crook of his neck and you feel him move with you, lips at your temples waiting in anticipation. Like he expects an answer. “I’m always good to you.”
“Whenever you want to,” he corrects with a sharp edge, hands roaming over your ass in soothing circles when he can feel your hot, short cut breaths in his neck, inhaling the fresh citrus smell of his fragrance just the way you’re used to. His own chest heaves up and down in hammered motions, cock deliciously brushing against your velvety walls when you take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Would’ve been much easier if you let me eat you out, sweetheart.”
“I can take it.” You whimper against his skin, stilling to let both of you adjust. Slumping down, chest against chest for a mere minute before you suck a sharp breath in when he reaches in between your bodies, thumb continuing to rub small and fast circles at your clit. “J- Kook,” you voice just above a whisper, his fingers circling with more pressure at your clit. “Kook...”
“What is it, baby?” He asks, voice vibrating at the shell of your ear when his lips are so painfully close. “Are you already starting to regret it? I knew you were bluffing, but damn, can’t even play pretend so soon?”
He’s mocking you with that annoying tone of voice, and everything in you wants to prove him wrong. To spare yourself the embarrassment of being caught slacking. Slowly, you start to move with his thumb still driving you insane at your clit. It’s a small and minor movement at first, making sure he feels every little drag of your walls around his angry cock before he gets the chance to open that big mouth again. Well, to be frank, it is open; pretty and plush lips slightly parted to let the moans die down on his tongue.
You remove your head off his shoulder just so you can catch the look on his face when you heave yourself up, only until his tip is inside you and the rest of his cock is already covered with your juices. He shoots you a look that tests your limits, but you’re not intimidated enough to back down and mirror him when you sink onto his cock once more. The familiar stretch of his thick shaft making both of you moan out in delight, blending perfectly together in the narrow space of his Benz.
“Fuck, Kook.”
His shoulders slump a little, eyes shutting tight and the sight of it only makes you bounce faster on his cock. His slight curve hits the sweeter, more sensitive spot with each roll of your hips and your head nearly falls back at the delicious feel. Sharpened nails dig into his blouse at the shoulders but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind the slightest, probably too lost in his own pleasure to even notice. His tattooed hand reaches out to tug at your nipple some more, sweet moans of delight filling the air almost instantly.  
Jungkook got his veiny arm secured around the small of your waist, keeping you close enough to him to the point your breasts are pressed against his chest. Bouncing on his cock the way you do it so gracefully, you let your head fall down his shoulder, where your breaths become heavier and more ragged. “So eager for someone you claim no longer to love,” he hisses, seizing the opportunity to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin at your neck, just beneath your jaw. “Isn’t that what you said, baby? That we no longer love each other?”
“I didn’t mean it,” you groan, uttering out the words as he bites down even harder, intensifying the searing sensation in the heat of your neck.
His fingers curl at your hips, guiding them up and down above him with a delicious stretch of his cock at your walls. “So what,” he drawls, jaw twitching when your pussy tightens around him. “You said it just to say it?”
One thing about Jungkook is that, even after all these years of being married to you, he never tells you what the deal is about. You said something you weren’t supposed to? Sure thing, but he needs you to figure out what you did wrong yourself. Being the business man at heart, he has taught himself since his early college days to be straight forward and precise. Straight to the point. A no-nonsense approach with an ability to cut through the fluff. It’s a dance you’ve become familiar with. Maybe all he wants to hear is an apology, some cue that indicates a hint of regret—he himself isn’t even so sure. Maybe he just wants to know if you meant it.
Between heavy gasps and angry moans, you manage to speak, voice strained with a mix of arousal and remorse. “I... I didn’t mean it in the way you think,” you pant, the words barely audible in between your entangled bodies. “I was angry... and lashed out.”
Jungkook shudders, gripping onto you in a way that makes your hips still with only the tip of his cock inside. Your pussy pulses around nothing, desperate for the release he’s been building up so effortlessly. “Yeah?” He huffs, hips lifting off his seat to buckle into you with harsher, deeper thrusts. You can barely breathe when his pace increases and the only sound that’s filling the car is skin slapping against skin. “You just had to have the last word, didn’t you? Baby couldn’t keep her pretty mouth shut so she spews shit like that out.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” you argue back, lifting your head to meet him for a messy kiss you can’t keep up with. Not with the way his thrusts bounce you up and down his dick uncontrollably. Lips angrily dancing together like it’s your last time, moans molding together like it’s your last taste. “I didn’t mean it like that, Kook.”
Those slender, tattooed fingers run back down until he spreads your ass cheeks apart, gaining more control over you as you let him guide you throughout the thrusts. “Neither did I,” he says and you’re not entirely sure what he means by that. Rhythm becoming more focused than before, you notice his thrust seeming to slow down a little, though his dick reaches deeper, sweeter spots inside you that has you yelping into the tight air. “This pretty pussy about to cream my cock?”
You whimper with despair, head thrown back as he fucks into you from below. The tip of his dick reaches all your sweet spots each time his hips meet your ass, eliciting your head to fall back and exposing your velvety neck before him. “Fuck, yes,” Jungkook is quick to place his lips at your throat, soothingly swiveling his tongue around in circled motions. “You fill me up so well.”
“Do I?” He knows he does. Can feel how each drag of his cock in between your sweet, hot walls drives you a little more crazy. “Are you gonna make me dirty and cum all over me when I fuck you like this? Baby can’t take it?”
‘‘I can take it. Jungkook, please,’’ a lewd moan leaves your lips when his hand curls around your throat, heated and tight until he can feel you swallow against his palm.
Your pleads don’t fall on deaf ears when Jungkook firmly plants both feet to the floor, one hand tightening around your hip and the other around your throat. Lifting your hips until your warm walls are only wrapped around the tip of his cock, he pauses, locking eyes with you and keeping it there as if telling you there’s nowhere else for you to look at. He doesn’t give you any other warning before he’s thrusting into you, hips meeting your ass cheeks with force until he’s satisfied and buried to the hilt. “Keep your eyes open babe, want you looking at me while I fuck you.” He doesn’t move, keeping his cock deep inside you until you manage to pry your eyes open and meet his dark gaze, lips formed into a big O.
You do as he says, unable to get another word out when his hips draw back back, cock deliciously returning with another single, harsh thrust that got your tits bouncing up and down. It takes everything in you not to break eye contact, not to pinch your eyes to a tight close with the way he fills you so well. “Oh my God,” you choke out, barely audible as your hand wraps around his wrist by your neck, nails scratching against his sweet skin.
Jungkook sucks your whimpers up, watching your eyes grow heavier before he pounds into you again. Pace fastening with each thrust that becomes a little more precise and aimed to reach your sweet spot. Your moans grow uncontrolled and his name rolls off your lips with each thrust, the sound of your shaky breaths melting together with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the slight curve of his cock so deep in between your walls, you have a hard time keeping it together.
“I said, eyes open. Keep them on me.” Jungkook rasps out in between his own heavy breaths when your eyes shut close again. “That’s it, my pretty girl.” Lewd whimpers fill the air and he’s loving every sound that comes from you, ego swelling at each whine and each sob you throw his way. 
‘‘Fuck, Jungkook.’’ Your moans fill up the tiny space with each drag of his cock hitting your sweet spots, you don’t know how much longer you can take it when he pounds into you so deliciously.
‘‘Shit, cum for me, baby. Cream my cock.’’ He groans out loud, reconnecting your lips in a breathless kiss as he doesn’t need to tell you twice. The wave of your orgasm running through you, body tensing as your juices coat his thick cock.
He’s panting now, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him and as you coat him to the brim drives him insane. He pumps into you a couple times more before unloading inside. Your head falls back at the hot feeling of him filling you up, buried into you as he groans into the suffocating air.
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It’s a funny thing, the way you and Jungkook operate.
Contrary to what many might assume, even after being together with the man for almost 7 years, you still have no idea what the fuck you’re doing. Finding yourselves grappling with a sense of uncertainty, far from a picture perfect commitment the way you’d think of marriage those years ago. It isn’t a pretty sight, but you figure either of you have gotten used to the same song, the same  rhythm that there is to your relationship, a dance of trial and error, where you stumble your way through challenges together, yet apart.
It defies logic when you put it that way. It isn’t a secret that you and Jungkook haven’t been able to make each other happy for quite some time, to put it plain and simple. Initially, the two of you were capable of hiding your worries beneath a thick blanket of luxury items and long office hours, and it’s not like much of that has changed, but the clock is ticking until Jungkook is leaving for his two-month business trip and you haven’t exchanged a word since the event two days ago. Since the heated sex in the driver’s seat of Jungkook’s Mercedez. Usually you’d just shrug it off, swearing no ignorant man of a husband is worth the wrinkles at your forehead.
So you’re not sure why you can’t seem to lift the weight of your shoulders off.
It feels wrong, that is. Wrong for Jungkook to leave you to fetch for yourself for two months without some sort of reconciliation. He tries to maintain some resemblance to your usual routine, you can tell. He continues to hold you during your sleep, an arm draped around your waist as you can hear the peaceful rhythm of his breaths. Though he isn’t close enough for you to feel his burning, bare chest against your back. He still brings back home dinner from your favorite Malay takeaway downtown, but doesn’t linger at the dinner table to make sure you eat everything to the last rice grain. He still surprises you with beaming jewelry you added to your wishlist months ago, but doesn’t stay to look how it adorns you.
Jungkook’s absence drains you.
It’s true. Not a fact you would ever admit out loud, but when push comes to shove, you might want him by your side every here and now. Yet at the end of the day, you’re a stubborn woman. Always have been and Jungkook knew it from the start. If he wanted to fix things between you before he leaves for his trip, then he would’ve done it by now.
‘‘Aren’t you supposed to be at work?’’ Your voice beams through the living room, Jungkook’s presence surprising you as you enter. Seated at the sofa, his back faces you as he’s dressed in his formal attire, elbows digging into his thighs as he’s typing away on his phone.
You linger at the arm of the sofa, gaze fixed at his side. There is a moment of silence that settles between you, filled by the quiet taps of his thumb against the screen. ‘‘My meeting got canceled,’’ he answers, voice tinged with a bit of weariness. ‘‘I only got a few hours before I have to get back.’’
The tension in your shoulders ease slightly, but your guard remains there. ‘‘Oh,’’ you respond dryly, that being all you can give him right now, turning on your heel to grab your shoes and coat and move your way out of the house.
Slipping your shoes on with your coat hanging in the crook of your arm, the car keys rumble loudly in your grip. Jungkook’s voice cuts through the air, making you halt in your steps. ‘‘I was thinking we’d see Seulgi in the meantime,’’ He calls over his shoulder, barely turning around to see you eye to eye. ‘‘I just called and she says she got a gap free for us.’’
Your brows furrow and his words hang in the air for a moment, his eyes glue back to his screen, mindlessly scrolling through it and you wonder what is going on through his head. You saunter back to the sofa, weight leaning on one leg when you stand before him again. ‘‘Right now?’’ You ask, head tilting. ‘‘I’ve got things to do, Jungkook.’’
Jungkook sighs, setting his phone aside and clasping his hands together between his thighs. He musters a smile, though it seems more ironic than genuine. ‘‘Well, it’s kind of urgent, ___,’’ He smiles with closed lips though it seems ironic. ‘‘Considering the fact that I’ll be leaving in less than a week.’’
You stand there, feeling your feet glued to the floor. ‘‘That’s not on me,’’ you manage to utter, an accusation thrown in there. It’s almost like he’s shifting the blame on you. Like you were the one to tell him to get on that boat and leave for two months. ‘‘You were the one who wanted to go on that trip, Jungkook, not me. If you wanted to see Seulgi you should’ve planned it sooner because I already made plans for today.” You call, “I can’t just reschedule them.’’
You hold his gaze, your eyes conveying a mix of frustration and disappointment. The silence that follows is heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You realize that the disconnect between you and Jungkook runs deeper than this singular moment. It's a culmination of unaddressed issues and unmet expectations that have taken a toll on your relationship. ‘‘Can’t you see that I’m trying? I just want to make things right before I leave,’’ Jungkook sighs softly, ‘‘she already said she doesn’t do virtual sessions. You know this could be the last time in a long time for us to visit?’’
Your patience wears thin when your eyes meet. He looks at you like you get to cut through the ropes, which in fact, right now you do. But again, you're not the one to distance yourself for months on end. You can’t help but blame him. ‘‘That still isn’t on me.’’
You’re fast to turn on your heel, ready to leave him in that big house. But you don’t get far when a gentle grip takes your hand in his own. He takes you by surprise, turning to look at him when his eyes find yours. His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold on to you, to keep you from slipping away. There’s a silent plea in his gaze, a plea for understanding and trying to make things right.
‘‘Why are you pushing me away?’’ His voice is quiet as he tugs at your hand, urging you to stand before him again.
‘‘I’m not,” you respond, your voice laced with a touch of defensiveness, giving up the fight to his gentle grip, where he guides you to stand between his legs.
“I’m trying to make amends,” he adds, his tone a little gentler than before. “I’m trying, but you won’t even tell me where you're going.’’
His words leave you a little hesitant, torn between the desire to hold onto your grievances and the flicker of hope that perhaps there is a chance for reconciliation. “I don’t see how it’s important where I’m off to,” you finally say, looking down at those big eyes that stare back at you. “I already made plans and that’s all there is to it.”
His grip on your hands tightens slightly, his thumb gently caressing the back of it as he searches for the right words. “It matters to me because I want to be there for us,” he says, his voice earnest. There is a vulnerability in his eyes, a genuine sincerity that tugs at your heart a little. “I leave in less than a week and I take full responsibility for that decision, but at least give me the chance to make things right before I leave.”
With a soft sigh, you release your hand from his grip and reach up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing up his cheeks as an amused, humorless smile paints your lips. “A single, last minute session with Seulgi isn’t going to ‘make things right’, Jungkook.” You mock him, softly pinching his cheek like he’s a child. You turn your back on him, gathering your things with your shoulder bag secured beneath your arm. “If anything, it’ll just make things worse the way we do it.”
Jungkook hears the chuckle that escapes your lips but can’t bring himself to crack a smile, unable to catch the joke at hand. Sharp eyes never leave your frame as you shuffle around the living room, collecting everything you need before getting out of the house. “Fine,” his voice booms through the room as he stands up with a huff, hands at his hips. “We’ll just sit here and talk if that’s the way you want to do it.”
“And then? You think that’ll do the trick?” You retort, bitter laughter escaping your lips. You can count the amount of times you and Jungkook could’ve just sat down just to talk and fix your issues on one hand. You’ve always been here, at the house, waiting for him to finish his shifts to do exactly that. Now his meeting got canceled and suddenly he got time for you?
Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together, his own frustration rising to the surface. “I never said it would magically fix everything,” he shoots back, his tone matching your intensity. “But at least it shows that I’m trying, that I want to make things right before I leave.”
You scoff. “Trying? Is that what you call it?” Sarcasm drips off your voice when you finally turn to face him, seemingly ready to get your ass moving right then and there. “Fine. Let’s try when I get back home tonight.”
The haste kiss you place at his cheek nearly comes across as an insult, your lips barely lingering for a moment before you pull away. And just like that, you’re ready to fly out of the door, fueled by frustration and the desire to escape the argument that has consumed the room. Jungkook thinks you’re being childish, perhaps a little selfish when he watches the way you almost seem to float your way off. He understands that a two month business trip will only deepen the rift between you, but living like you’re strangers during your last days together, leaving with a packed suitcase on empty words—he doesn’t want to know what would happen in that case.
“What in the world could be a priority over an attempt to fix your relationship right now?” Jungkook’s voice rings just as your hand grips onto the doorknob, the frustration evident as his voice raises to catch your attention.
You pause on your tracks, still holding onto the doorknob with all you got. The impact of his question makes you halt, awfully familiar like you’ve heard it somewhere before. “Funny thing you ask that, considering I’ve asked myself that same question every time you head off to wherever you are needed at the time.” You retort, bitterness lacing on to every word. You hum like you’re thinking, “I never got an answer to that, by the way.”
Jungkook’s shoulders slump, his eyes searching for your understanding. “That’s because I’ve got a job. To provide for us, ___. You know that much so don’t go around acting dense, please.”
You narrow your eyes at him, the anger bubbling up inside you. “Oh, so now I’m acting dense? That’s how you see it?” The bitterness in your tone is impossible to conceal. “You can’t just use your job as an excuse every time it becomes convenient. Be fair, Jungkook, we wouldn’t even have this conversation if it wasn’t for your canceled meeting, so why make such a big deal out of this?”
His expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his face. “I do what I have to do for us,” he replies, voice tinged with frustration. “You’re right. I’m not always able to combine business and private matters the way I wish I’d be able to. But I try, and I work hard so we can live a comfortable life. Is that not important to you?”
Bitter laughter escapes you and echoes through the hall, watching as he reaches closer. “Of course it is, but I am not a second job to you. I refuse to be,” you’re quick to argue back. “We can have a talk, but it’s not going to be an easy one and we both know it. So if we’re talking, then it’s not going to be when you conveniently got a meeting that got canceled. You’re going to have to prioritize us and our issues if you really want it to work, Jungkook.”
“I’m ready to sit down and do exactly that, right now,” there is a fire that swims through his gaze as he says it, one that dares to tell you you’re in the wrong. The hesitation runs through yours, it’s all he can see the longer you lock eyes. “I’ll clear my schedule for the rest of the day if that’s what it takes, ___.”
Kim Taehyung crosses your mind.
You can’t help it; his image flashes through your head without an ounce of control. Because right in this fleeting moment, the guilt chimes at your chest as Jungkook looks at you with expectant eyes.
Truth be told, the unfamiliar man had been on your mind ever since you talked to him at the event. It had much less to do with his good looks, his charming persona and much more to do with the topics you shared, the things he had to offer. Things you thought you had let go of a long time ago with a heavy heart and a hard pillow to swallow.
Modeling was no longer part of the game for you. It’s one thing you accepted a long time ago. The first night after the event took place, you managed to ignore that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, thinking that feeling would be gone in the morning, where all you had to worry about again was you and Jungkook, only to wake up and his offer being the first thing you could think of. You couldn’t get your mind off it even if you truly wanted to. Unable to help yourself, you couldn’t think of your meeting with Taehyung as much of a coincidence. Not when he was linked to your world of fame, to all the people you had let go of; the colleagues, the creative editors, the artists that you were once part of.
His card burnt the inner pockets of your handbag that night.
“Where are you heading off to that makes you want to say no?” Jungkook’s question pierces through your thoughts, jolting you back to the present as his voice brims with curiosity, his eyes searching for answers. Yet, you hesitate to respond, uncertain if revealing the truth would only complicate matters further.
“It’s nothing important, just personal matters.” You reply vaguely, avoiding his gaze.
The room descends into an uneasy silence, the tension thickening in the air. Jungkook senses your hesitation, his face contorted with frustration. “___, please,” he implores, voice tinged with hints of despair. “Personal matters? I’m your husband.”
Jungkook’s words strike a chord within you, the weight of his statement hanging heavily in the air. It’s not that you don’t want to tell Jungkook about Taehyung, about the session he promised you. It’s just that this is also something new to you. You don’t know what you want yet, you don’t know where this newfound opportunity with Taehyung might lead to. Discussing this with Jungkook only makes everything so much more official and binding.
“I met someone at the event—the photographer,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you remember him? His name is Taehyung,”
“Taehyung,” he repeats quietly, the question mark still visible at his forehead. His lips purse, searching your eyes for more clarity. “Yes, I remember him. What does this mean, ___?”
You can hear the impatience getting to him, the tension mounting between you both. “It means… we got to talking while you were networking with your coworkers,” you say, the statement leaving your lips a little saltier than you intended to. “So, the topic of modeling kind of came up in the conversation. Did you know he works with Minnie?”
“Minnie Chang? As in, your modeling agent?” His brows furrow, voice quiet enough for you to know this isn’t good news to him.
“Yes, her.” You nod along, unable to help the excitement growing at your chest. “Turns out Taehyung has been working with her on projects for some time. Crazy, isn’t it? I mean, he still thinks I have some potential in the industry after all those years of neglecting it. He even gave me his card that night, says there’s no strings attached to it.”
“And now you’re off to a shoot with the guy himself,” he huffs as his arms fall limp to his sides, hands at his hips as he searches your eyes for something you can’t place. “I don’t get it, ___. I thought we agreed you were done modeling? You want to dive back into that world even though we got our own shit to sort out?”
“I know what we agreed on,” you argue back, taking a sharp breath. “It’s nothing big, Taehyung said so himself. It’s a one-time shoot and if I decide to do something with it, then I will.” His eyes tell you all you need to know, they’re sharp and dig into your skull. You drop your keys into your back with a sigh of disbelief. You can’t believe he’s doubting you right now. “But I know I won’t. It’s a one-time thing. It’s not like I’m looking for a fulltime job, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s frustration is palpable as he clenches his jaw, his voice tinged with bits of disappointment. “One-time thing or not, it’s about the principle, ___.’’ He says, more sternly than you’re used to when it comes to him. ‘’Seems like you’re ready to push our problems to the side this once. So why not twice? Or three or four times every time they'll call you in for another shoot?’’
You scoff, brow arching upon his daring words. Turning on your heel, you dart out of the door, beams of sun hit your face instantly. ‘‘You’re one to speak.’’ A humorless chuckle leaves your throat, the sour smile on your face still there even though it feels like it’s crumbling. ‘‘You’d finally know how that feels, then. When the person who is supposed to be there every step on the way just neglects you with a snap of the finger,’’ you angrily mumble, his own feet rushing after yours towards the car. You spin around once you reach it, feeling he’s hot on your tail. ‘‘It doesn’t feel good, I know, baby,’’ you say, voice laced with exasperation, ‘‘but you’re off on that trip in just a few days. Either of us are gonna have to get used to that feeling, whether we like it or not.’’
Jungkook’s footsteps slow down as he reaches to stand before you, towering over your smaller frame. ‘‘You can’t be serious,’’ he blurts, gesturing a hand towards his chest. ‘’Can’t you see that I’m making an effort? It’s not easy for me either, ___. I don’t want us to be apart any more than you do. So why push me away for some random shoot that just fell into your hands?’’
‘‘Because this,’’ a pointy finger swivels between your chests, emphasizing the growing divide. ‘‘This isn’t working.’’ The weight of your words press down on you, a heaviness settling in your chest. ‘‘It isn’t, and we’re still holding onto the last thread like it is. You and I need to come up with a new strategy or so help me God, we won’t last. Taehyung gave me an opportunity that night and I’m trying not to be miserable in this house, Kook. That’s all there is to it, I need distraction too.’’
You can tell he’s holding back. Can tell by the way he sucks in his tongue, jaw sharpening because of it as his lips turn into a tight line. ‘‘So this is it, then?’’ He asks, crossing his arms with a puffed chest. ‘‘Let’s stop trying and just hope for the best because you need a little something to distract yourself with. Correct?’’
“Don’t twist my words.” You snap, meeting his fierce gaze as the intensity of the moment grounds you both. “Fuck it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you accusing me of shit I didn’t even say,” you delve in your handbag, swearing you left your car keys somewhere in there.
You’re obviously hitting his last nerve. It’s clear, evident in the way he holds his index finger to his nose like he’s thinking. Frowned, sharp brows and a tight line of his lips as he weighs his weight to one leg. “We’re never gonna solve any of our shit if we keep running from it.” He says through gritted teeth, holding himself back from raising his voice at the driveway. “Do you want to make your point clear, is that it? Because I fucking got it. I’m a shit husband who puts zero time and effort into his relationship. I fucking got it. But I’m trying to get somewhere now,” he watches as you dig deeper into your bag, unable to focus on the task at hand with him fuming before you. “And now that I am, you’re feeding yourself into delusions because you want to be petty and are determined to make me feel the same way? Is that really what you’d rather do today, ___?”
“Please,” you repeat with a loud scoff, gaze burning into his. “Believe it or not, baby, but my world doesn’t revolve around you,” you pinch his cheek in a mocking manner, not shocked when he’s quick to tear your touch off him. “Or at least, I’m trying not to make you my first priority, considering you’ve stopped doing that a while ago. If it taught me one thing over the years, it must be that it made me fucking miserable. Blame me all you want for not wanting to feel that way. I don’t give a fuck.”
“Baby,” he sings sweetly, a hand at your cheek as he makes sure your eyes stay locked together. He captures the fire blazing in your eyes, burning into his skull. “We can drop the big-girl act right now and head inside. I mean it,” he says, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Right now it’s your word against mine. I’ll pour us something to drink and we’ll sit down. Just you and me, that's all we need.”
You jerk away from his touch, the intensity of the moment still pulsing between you. Drop the act? You’re seething. Jeon Jungkook always finds a way to make the steam blow out of your ears. “I don’t need anything from you.” You snap without missing a beat, thankful for the way you’re magically able to find your car keys in one of the side pockets of your bag.
For a moment, silence hangs in the air, heavy with unresolved tension. You watch as his lips part, looking for words to argue with, but nothing comes out. It feels like a confirmation when it happens. You need to be anywhere but with him right now, and so does he.
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Kim Taehyung is nothing like Jungkook.
It’s an obvious matter of fact which you can’t help but examine into detail. Taehyung’s fragrance fans you off in a refined way, a gentle and classy blend of notes that seems to match that charismatic, boxy smile he keeps sending your way. And while Jungkook usually dresses in formal designer attire, woody essence hanging in the crooks of his neck, Taehyung dresses not only to impress, but also to express his artistic soul. Loose button up tucked in black trousers that sway at his legs with each step, it comes to showcase his vibrant and flowy persona. The color palette, combined with that perfect set of teeth represents his chic, suave ways of working. It comes to contrast Jungkook entirely.
Maybe you notice it because you’ve nearly spent a decade with the man. By his side day in and day out with a commitment beautifully decorating your ring finger, straight to a point where you could no longer see through each other’s flaws. And maybe that is where Taehyung comes in as a fresh breath of air. Even now that you’ve only seen the man twice in a lifetime, you only seem to focus on all the ways he seems to differ from Jungkook.
Do you feel guilty about the fact you’re watching Taehyung like a hawk, the lens on him a little too focused to point out all the things Jungkook isn’t? Not really. Right now, you don’t really feel anything. You drove over to Taehyung’s studio with half a heart racing against your ribcage, all the things you and Jungkook told each other in the back of your mind even as you arrived. Fifteen minutes late and dissolved hair that seemed like a hand has been through it a couple times.
Taehyung didn’t question it and you’re thankful he kept quiet. The last thing you need to have on your mind is Jungkook. Not his angry words, not even yours. And the charming photographer did a great job at keeping your mind off him the first hour of the session, it’s not his fault.
“You hate them.” Taehyung declares at your side, the camera in his hands falling down to his lap in a defeated manner. He’s seated at the corner of the table, one leg dangling off it right next to your high chair.
“It’s not that I hate them,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the distant hum of the studio. Taehyung’s gaze lingers on you, his eyes holding onto a sense of curiosity. You feel the weight of his unwavering attention, and for a moment, Jungkook is all you can think of. “It’s more like I had forgotten how good this feels... all of this. Really, your shots are amazing. I guess I’m just kind of in shock.”
A tiny smile creeps up at the corners of his lips, eyes never leaving yours. “It’s only half the work with a model like you,” he snickers cutely, nudging at your side. “And I don’t want to make this an I-knew-it-better-moment, but... I kind of told you so from the start.”
You can’t help but return his smile. “I know, you’re a genius.”
“Your words, not mine.” Taehyung holds his hands up in defense, the smile that’s teasing at his lips enough to tell you he agrees. “So, what do you say? I’ve got a few empty portfolios in the back, we could print some of these photos out and make it yours.”
The wink he throws your way doesn’t go by unnoticed, his sneaky, encouraging grin filled with enthusiasm as he waits for you with a glimmer in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, lower belly piling with excitement at the idea of physically holding today’s shoot in your hands. Though the hesitation creeps at you, as if something stops you from letting that excitement flow out. “I don’t know, Taehyung…” You mumble, a toothy smile on your face even though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m gonna have to take that map home with me, and I’m gonna stare at those pictures for hours. It’ll drive me insane.”
Taehyung quirks a brow. “That’s the point.”
“Yeah, I know,” you murmur quietly, and Taehyung is unable to pry his eyes off you, the grin from before now fading off and replaced with a concerned frown. “I know that’s the point. It’s just that... I don’t know. I’m going to want more.”
It takes a second before your words work through but the grin eventually works its way back onto his lips. Wide and closed-lipped with big effort, Taehyung fights hard to hold his toothy smile back, biting at his bottom lip to prevent it from happening. It’s cute how the little confession slips off your tongue and you’re so scared to see what the outcome could be. Taehyung shuffles at his seat at the corner of the table, shoulders relaxing. ‘‘I’ll give you more.’’ He says, and suddenly his cheeky demeanor is gone, looking at you like he’s closing down a deal.
You press your lips together but he can see the way you’re trying to hold your laughter back. ‘‘Taehyung, be serious.’’
‘‘I’m serious, ___.’’ He says, and it’s like he pronounces your name in slow motion. His pink lips pout a little as if he’s deep in thoughts, head tilting while your eyes lock. ‘‘I don’t see why not? You haven’t been on the job for years, the pictures obviously show that it comes to you like second nature… we’re a great team too, can’t deny that one.’’ He smiles charmingly, and it now results in you biting your bottom lips to prevent the cheeky smile from reappearing. ‘‘So, yes. I’d give you more if that’s what you wanted.’’
‘‘This is insane.’’ You nearly whisper, head shaking. ‘‘I mean, this is crazy, Taehyung. I’m not a model anymore. I can't just pick up where I left off, it’s been literal years and I probably just shouldn’t even think about it.’’
His shoulder leans into you, watching you ramble from beneath his black curls like he sees right through you. ‘‘Because of your marriage?” He asks, eyes shifting downward before he meets yours again and you’re uncertain where exactly they shifted towards, but it might be better if you don’t know.
You chuckle lightly, not expecting him to be so straightforward. ‘‘I mean, sure. Jungkook’s my husband, he has some say about any of this.’’
‘‘Sure he does. But here’s a problem,’’ he says, a pointy finger in the air before it drops back to his lap. ‘‘You’re scared he won’t understand the purpose of it. Scared that he won’t be supporting you in all the ways you’ll need him. Right? Considering your husband is… sort of a prick. More or less.’’
You send him a scolding glare, one that’s not too hard on him looking at how you sketched Jungkook out to be that way in Taehyung’s eyes. ‘‘Tae,’’ you say quietly, ‘‘I know I mentioned some things about Jungkook back at the event, but really, he isn’t a jerk. Not a prick, or any of that sort. That’s only okay for me to say.’’ You add the lighthearted joke to keep the good atmosphere in the room. After all, you don’t blame him for thinking of Jungkook as a bad guy.
‘‘I get it, I’m overstepping my boundaries here.’’ He holds his hands up in the air, admitting defeat with that charming smile on his face. ‘‘But I’m just saying, ___. Relationships are important–marriage is important. But here’s the thing about you,’’ he pauses, voice lowering. ‘‘You have talent, undeniably so. I’ve captured it all today. And I truly believe that sometimes, you have to pursue your passions regardless of the risks. Regardless of anyone else if this is what feels right to you.’’ Taehyung holds his hands to his chest like he’s speaking from the heart and it makes you nervous how he says all these things like it’s so easy. So effortless to see the man you spend the last six years with as a risk.
Truth is, yes: Kim Taehyung sees right through you. He is right all along and you wouldn’t know how Jungkook would respond to making this whole ordeal a regular thing. Hell, you don’t even know how you’re supposed to react to it. With how shaky your relationship has become as of lately, how each one of your problems have circulated back to Jungkook’s office job some way or another, it’s hard to tell if the opportunity Taehyung offers you would truly work in your favor.
You take a deep breath, contemplating Taehyung’s words and the weight of them. The room falls into a brief silence though it isn’t pressuring, not trying to suffocate you for once. It’s not that you doubt the talent or passion that lingers within you, but you wonder if it’s worth anything if it means it would only dig your relationship deeper in the ground, especially when you and Jungkook are already trying so hard to climb out of that hole.  
‘‘It’s not something you have to figure out right now.’’ Taehyung shrugs, a reassuring smile at his lips when he catches him losing you. ‘‘I just want you to know you can always give me a call. I’d be down for anything going forward, ___.’’
You can hear the hope in Taehyung’s voice and you wonder why he tries so hard to make you understand. You appreciate it, though you wonder. You just figure he’s a good guy with a good heart.
‘‘You know, you can print those photos out.’’ You say, back straightening as you catch how it throws the guy off guard a bit, his brows rising. ‘‘I had these crazy ideas for the cover of my portfolio, anyway. Might as well put them to good use and take it home with me.’’
You even surprise yourself as the words spill from your lips, though you have no intention to take them back. You suppose this is what you want. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said it. Taehyung’s eyes almost seem to lighten up. ‘‘I knew you were a smart one.’’
And that’s how you’re ushering Taehyung towards the printer in the corner of his minimal studio before he can make any more smart comments. He reassures you some more time, sensing your absence as silence falls over you once more, insecurities still nagging at you even when you convince yourself this small step could lead to something good. Something bigger. At one point, it’s just the sound of the printer rapidly inking the paper as the both of you stand there on the side in silence. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling. But you’d say it’s rather an unfamiliar one. Taehyung never does anything to make you feel like a fish out of the water, he makes sure of it and you’re grateful for that.
Joy swells at your chest, leading to butterflies filling up your lower belly. Not because of Taehyung; even as you see right through his charming looks or flirtatious brown eyes, but because he saw something in you that night of the event that made a spark of inspiration flow. Thinking back at how easy it’s been with him, how you haven’t even met the man a week ago and how you’re now here, in his studio working on things you once called passion for—it drives you crazy.
‘‘You know what? We should celebrate,” he calls and the sound of his voice throws you off guard. “With some wine, I mean. You like red?’’
And that’s how you and Taehyung end up popping a bottle of Riunite Lambrusco in the middle of his studio. The curly haired man says he always has some sort of beverage stored in the back in case of celebration, and you believe him. His character is like a breath of fresh air. He goes with the flow, you can tell, that being all you’ve been doing in the past days you introduced yourselves to one another. One hand dug deep in the pocket of his voguish trousers and the next thing you know, you’ve finished up a shoot and are setting up your portfolio together.
You like Taehyung.
You’ve come to the conclusion that you do.
Conversation flows well, even after only a couple sips of the wine he poured you. Conversation has been flowing well since the start of today’s shoot, but now that you get to sit down, look him in the eye and get to know him better, you can tell you’ve got that chemistry. The air in Taehyung’s studio feels lighter, almost ethereal, as you sit comfortably at the foldable, rusted party table and squeaky chairs he pulled from the back. Only after apologizing a handful of times, his nearly empty studio only holding onto lightning and his required equipment as you sit in the middle of it. It’s not his day to day workplace, he told you, though you keep telling him there’s something to it. The minimal yet intimate air lingers and it makes you feel good on the inside.
There’s an effortless ease to your interactions, you’re not sure what it is that he does, but he does it. Taehyung’s laughter resonates in the room, infectious and sincere whenever he talks. You find yourself opening up to him, discussing your ambitions, as well as your fears. There’s a certain comfort in his presence, as if he intuitively grasps the struggles you’ve been facing and offers you a safe space to let it out.  
‘‘This is one of my favorites,’’ Taehyung leans back in his chair, one leg over the other as he brings his glass back to his lips. Your portfolio is sprawled out over the entire surface of the tiny table, resulting in you to lean over with your own glass in one hand. You follow his gaze, falling on the picture of you that’s taken from an upper angle, open palms directed to the camera and glued to your cheeks. ‘‘This one makes it seem like you never quit modeling–it’s probably something in the eyes. They’re captivating.’’
You feel your cheeks heat up as you peer at the photograph. It’s true, the image captures a certain intensity in your eyes, a spark that evokes passion. It reminds you of the days where modeling was your world, where it was your only ambition and when you were fully immersed.
‘‘I mean it.’’ He says when he notices the curl of your lips, unknown what to do or say next. ‘‘You’ve got the kind of eyes that would draw anyone in, don’t you know?’’ He enjoys seeing you so flustered, enjoys seeing how you turn in somebody new, so different from the woman he first got to know at the event. He almost feels proud for bringing this side out of you.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, Taehyung’s compliment leaving a cute flutter in your chest. You glance at the photo again, studying the intensity in your eyes like he described. ‘‘Thank you, Taehyung.’’ You reply sincerely, ‘‘I guess all of this is still kind of surreal to me. Didn’t think I’d find myself in a studio ever again, you know? It’s kind of a big deal to me.’’
‘‘I get that.’’ He says slowly, and you swear his voice drops a few octaves because of it. Leaning over the tiny table with folded arms, wine glass before you. Your eyes lock and neither of you care to say anything for another moment.
The afternoon carries on and shifts into an evening where the sun has already set before you can comprehend it. Taehyung’s squeaky party chair leaves an uncomfortable sting at your ass but you don’t mind, barely notice the feel when the nearly empty wine bottle sits there to stare at you both. A little liquid layer of red wine left over and waiting for you to finish as you hang onto Taehyung’s every word. Hang onto his tongue as he speaks of his experiences within the industry, speaks of everything you’ve been missing out on the past few years. You feel like that girl in highschool again, reading through Vogue magazines in between classes and cutting your favorite models out to stick it on to your moodboard when you were supposed to work on your homework.
Yes, you look up to Taehyung. It was inevitable from the beginning. You believe so, because Kim Taehyung’s the only connection you have right now who dives right back to that world. That world you’ve been dreaming of for so long and once made true. And not only that, but he was also the first person in a long time who saw you for anybody else than the wife of. Say you’re being dramatic, but it’s no more than the truth. Taehyung gave you an opportunity within the first ten minutes of truly knowing who you were. It says something about him. Something good that makes you feel like you can handle a lot more than you think.
You at 9.38 PM | Hi, I had a lil wine and I’m jus a little tipsy, but I probably shouldn’t be driving
You at 9.40 PM | do you think you can come over and pick me up?
Read at 9:40 PM.
You lay your phone flat on the table as you lean back into your seat with a loud huff. Copying you, his head tilts slightly. “I could just drive you home, you know that right? No need for him to drive all the way over here.”
“There’s that, but you’ve already done so much for me today.” You shake your head, a smile tugging at the edges of your lips. “Really, there’s nothing you could do right now that would make me any happier.”
It’s true. Kim Taehyung made you the happiest woman alive today. 
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It doesn’t take very long before you hear the shut of a car door right outside, followed by impatient knocks at the front.
“The one and only.” Taehyung murmurs with a teasing smile your way, lazily getting up from his seat before he moves to the door.
The door flies wide open and revealed behind it is your husband, hands at both his hips as his dress shirt stretches across his chest at the movement. He leans his weight onto one leg, analyzing the man before him. “Right here, sir,” Taehyung comes to stand beside him, stepping outside and pointing to something that’s out of your view. “I’ve got a doorbell. For future references.”
You catch the playful smile that’s tugging onto the corners of Taehyung’s lips and so does Jungkook. “Thanks,” he mumbles quietly as he steps inside the small studio, fast to catch your eye from your seat at the table. “But I’m just here to pick up my wife.”
Jungkook’s steps sound heavy in the nearly empty space, leather designer shoes tapping against the flooring with a slight echo at each stride. He ends up in front of you by the table but doesn’t say anything, though you see his lips are pursed and cheeks are sucked in. Hands hiding in the pockets of his dress pants, you notice how his aura comes with a change of atmosphere. Let that be his body language, the strict look on his face, or maybe even the way you react to his presence—you know the change didn’t just come falling out of the sky.
You snap out of it when Taehyung closes the door behind him with a soft thud, followed by awkward silence. Your chair screeching against the floor comes next. “Taehyung,” you move around the table, coming to stand next to your husband and locking arms. “This is my husband, Jungkook.” The man on your side doesn’t care to return your touch. No arm at the small of your back, barely another look your way when he’d rather look anywhere else with pulled brows. “Jungkook, this is Taehyung. The photographer I told you about. He’s been doing such an amazing job at running today’s shoot.”
Being the bigger person in the room, Taehyung steps in to stretch out a hand, back curving slightly. “It’s good to meet you, I’ve only heard so much.”
Jungkook only provides him a nod of acknowledgment with each childish nerve that still runs through his body, ignoring eye contact like he’s still sixteen and his mama taught him no manners. You watch as Taehyung’s hand dissolves into a loose fist and falls to his side in defeat, you send him an apologetic smile to make up for it but he brushes it aside with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Alright, I guess we should leave.” You break through the ice, hand falling at your side as you roam around to search for your bag. You reach for the curly haired man once everything’s settled, and even though Jungkook didn’t care enough to return your touch before, you catch him tonguing his cheek when you reach out for Taehyung. “Thanks again. Really, I had a blast.”
“No more than I did.” He gives you his signature smile, the one that would leave many weak in the knees.
You bid your goodbyes, telling each other to get home safely as Jungkook watches from the side. You hug Taehyung tightly before you leave, an embrace where your arms are secured around his neck and his hands appropriately rest at your back.
It’s when you and Jungkook step out when you halt in the middle of the doorway, your portfolio that was secured beneath your arm now pushed into his chest. “Oh, Taehyung!” You turn around, hair sweeping against Jungkook with the sharp turn you take. Taehyung watches you with curious, slightly widened eyes. “Is it okay for me to give you a call later this week? I’d really love to repeat what we did today some time soon.”
His features relax, familiar grin returning. “You can always give me a call.” He smiles cutely. “Hit my line, I’ll have time for you, ___.”
Insecurity is not something Jungkook has had to worry about in the past, and certainly not now. Not when it came to you, not when you were entirely his, and he was entirely yours without any second thoughts. And he still trusts you completely, trust isn’t the issue. Insecurities aren’t the issue, either. And maybe, Kim fucking Taehyung isn’t what bothers him. Maybe it’s the way you seem to admire him, remembering that twinkle in your eyes from a long time ago. Remembering that smile you rarely save for Jungkook to see these days.
So, yes. Jungkook feels a weird tingle in the pit of his stomach like he’s being teased. Like it’s your first month of dating and he’s back in college again. Standing on the side like this, waiting for you to finish the conversation, the bitterness can only creep up on him at this point.
Your photographer just had to look like an underwear model.
The drive back home is worse than when Jungkook came to pick you up. He isn’t saying a word and neither are you, but he seems to be the only one bothered by it. With one hand at the steering wheel, he catches a glance at you on his side. Your nose digs into the map Taehyung gave you to bring home and your focus holds so much, you don’t even notice him staring. He can’t see much of what’s on the inside, not with the sun that has already set and the darkness that has consumed his sight.
Once you arrive home, Jungkook makes a beeline to the bedroom and you don’t put in much effort to run after the man. You store the portfolio someplace safe, where you’re sure nothing could spill or damage it in any way. It’s undeniable how today’s events made you feel like an absolute doll. Maybe it’s the after effects, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re running your entire skincare routine with droplets of water from your shower still dripping from your wet hair. It doesn’t really matter. You’ve been feeling like a pretty girl all day and you want to continue feeling that way.
It’s evident in the way you choose to wear the prettiest slip dress you can find hanging in your closet, the satin material cutting off just beneath the swell of your ass. It’s a piece Jungkook bought you a while ago during one of his first trips away, coming home with a Dior bow wrapped around the luxury packaging and a boyish smile dragging up the edges of his lips. It’s been his favorite ever since. Always loved how the fabric hugged your every curve, the way your nipples seemed to pinch right through. The way his eyes were unable to rip his gaze off you.
It’s when you enter the bedroom as Jungkook’s broad back meets you, seated at the edge of the queen sized bed with his elbows resting atop his thighs. He doesn’t bat an eye as he feels the bed dip behind him. Your knees dig into the fluffed sheets as you reach closer, heaving a loud sigh like you’re calling out for him.
“You don’t like him, do you?” you hum sweetly, pausing when your front is pressed against his back, heat radiating between you. It’s obvious who you’re referring to, hands travel at his both sides before you embrace him from beneath his arms. “Taehyung is a talented guy, don’t be so hard on him.” You chuckle at his ear, leaving a single, soft peck at his cheek. “Maybe you should flip through the portfolio we put together. You’ll really see him in a different light then, trust me.”
Manicured fingers fumble around until they reach the lowest button of his blouse. Starting from the bottom, you undo it, and you can hear the subtle sigh coming from his nose, jaw set tight as his teeth grind together. You press a trail of wet kisses to his warm skin rather than commenting on it, right below his earlobe reaching lower towards the sweet spots in his velvety neck, nails teasing at his stomach as you continue to unbutton his shirt. Jungkook is holding back, you can tell by the way his head tilts your way and eyes close at the feel of your lips buried deep in his neck, tits pressing at his backside as your hands are all over him, eagerly fumbling with his shirt–not giving into your touch. Not yet.
‘‘You’re still in your work clothes,’’ you hum in his neck, as if it isn’t already obvious. His dress pants tighten around his thick thighs each time he sits down and it’s your favorite thing in the world, the outline of his hardening crotch a little more visible with each gentle nip of your teeth against his skin.
“Yeah,” he sighs. ‘’Just in case my tipsy wife couldn’t drive her way back home again and I’d end up changing clothes anyway,’’ Jungkook simply says, even if the bitter edge to his statement doesn’t go missed by you.
You chuckle cutely, the sweet sound roaming at his ear. Is that why he’s upset? ‘‘Okay, alright.’’ You breathe lightly, sliding the light fabric of his shirt off his broad shoulders, his hot and inked almond skin on full display when you settle for less, throwing the piece to the side. Playful pecks follow at his shoulder blade, tender and deliberate. You trail your fingers lightly along the curves of his muscular back until you decide you had enough, rounding him until you straddle him, both legs on his either side. Cupping his face, you make him lock eyes. ‘‘I’m sorry for the late night drive. I probably shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did,’’ you confess softly, voice laced with a hint of mischief, hips carefully beginning to roll against his. ‘‘But I promise to behave next time, okay?’’
With his face cupped in your hands, you press your lips against his to pull him in a longing kiss, lingering a little longer than usual. You can tell he’s tired, that he doesn’t have much energy left over to deal with you, though your lips dance in unison anyway. Sweetly sucking onto your bottom lip like he’s hungry and you’re a free buffet. You watch as you detach from him, his eyes fluttering open after. “You’re in a good mood.” Jungkook hums with heavy lidded eyes on yours.
‘‘That’s because I had a good day.’’ You sing gently. Your wide, toothy smile would usually be one thing that he believes could halt anyone in their tracks. Though he beats you to it as you reach for another peck at the lips.
‘‘Hm, yeah?’’ He asks, head tilting. And even though his thumbs start caressing sweet circles at your exposed thigh, disappearing beneath the rich satin of your nightdress, all you can focus on is the tight line of his lips. The slight pinch between his brows. ‘‘My day was less fun, baby.’’
Your playful demeanor shifts at the seriousness of his tone, the straight face he gives you as he examines your every move unable to go unnoticed by you. It’s not like you’ve forgotten about the argument you had earlier today. It’s just that you’ve been in a position where you came as a second option to him all the time, so when the roles were reversed this morning, you didn’t have it in you to feel bad. Still, with a sympathetic expression, you lean in closer, a gentle whisper against his lips. ‘‘You want to tell me about it?’’ you ask, fully prepared to hear about all the ways he felt when you left the house like you haven’t been through it yourself.
He keeps his eyes on you for a minute longer and you can’t seem to figure out what is going through his head. Neither of you say anything and he keeps you in the dark for a moment, staring at you with those heavy lidded eyes that don’t bring you much further. “I’d drive around town to pick you up in the middle of the night, ___. You could call me at 3 in the fucking morning and I’d be there without another word.” Jungkook’s fingers tighten at your hips, gaze flickering to your lips. His voice is stern, like he’s preaching. You merely stare back at him with those big eyes of yours, like you wouldn’t have an idea where he’s going with this. “Late night drives don’t bother me at all.”
“Okay,” you pause carefully, head tilting to indicate you’re listening. “Then what does?” Two hands go through his black locks, pushing the hair out of his face as you begin to massage his scalp. The feel of your nails against his scalp is always so reassuring to him, even though not a hint of reassurance paints his face right now.
His lips press together. Why does he have to chew it out for you? You can’t seem to figure it out yourself and Jungkook’s patience is running on thin ice. It’s not a combination either of you like to see. “Don’t you know it’s inappropriate to keep employees on the job so long after business hours? It’s unprofessional, ___.” He drops the bomb, causing the fingers that are running through his hair to slow down. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be home late?”
You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t working, Jungkook.” You laugh, though his mood doesn’t lighten up. “Taehyung and I were celebrating–it’s my first modeling job in years. We kind of had to.”
“With wine?”
You halt at the shift in his tone, at his voice that’s laced with accusation. The single brow that arches up his forehead as if he’s searching for a reason to be angry, to find fault in your actions. ‘‘Yes, with wine,’’ you reply, maintaining your composure. ‘‘What’s the issue? You drink wine with your colleagues all the time.’’
The air in the room becomes tense as he continues to scrutinize you, eyes burning with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. ‘‘At social gatherings, yes. Not one-on-one in a room the size of my kitchen cabinet, ___, come on. What are you even on?’’
‘‘What am I on?’’ You repeat and pull away from him, back straightening as your hands fall to your lap. ‘‘Jungkook, I'm not on anything. I don’t know what you’re insinuating but I was simply celebrating a milestone with a very professional guy. You do that all the time. Is that so wrong when I do it?’’
His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression hardened. ‘‘It’s not about right or wrong,’’ he retorts, his voice sharper than it has been all night. ‘‘I’m just saying this guy is not your colleague, he’s not your coworker. He’s just some guy you met a couple days ago. I would have appreciated it if you had considered our relationship before indulging in a late-night celebration with another man.’’
Your eyes widen at his words, blood starting to boil when you cross your arms, jaw locked tightly. ‘‘Either you’re being very jealous and fucking possessive right now, or you’re making me feel like you don’t trust me.’’ You say, tone firm. ‘‘And it better not be the latter, Jungkook. Because we’ve been together for way too long to be worrying about this type of shit.’’
You watch him with anticipation but he doesn’t give you an answer right away. Just stares at you with those stern, dark eyes and raises a single eyebrow like you’ll have to figure it out yourself. ‘‘Oh my God,’’ you mumble in disbelief, flying off his lap and ripping his touch off you.
‘‘It’s not you I don’t trust,’’ he heaves a sigh, arms resting atop his knees as his hands intertwine. ‘‘I trust you, I always have trusted you. But him? I don’t know that guy, ___.’’ He points at the door with a flat hand. ‘‘And I’m not an insecure guy, you know that. I got nothing against him, but when you chose that guy to go to earlier this morning even after I told you I was ready to sit down and talk things through, then yes, it hurt my fucking pride. You just turned your back on me.’’
His words hang in the air as you stand there, his frustration and vulnerability obvious. ‘‘I’ve been in a position where I came as a second option to you before. Multiple times, Jungkook, don’t you forget that.’’ You scold him, keeping your voice calm. ‘‘You’re always scheduling meetings, saying yes to promotions and extra hours. Taking on additional responsibilities when you know our relationship can’t afford it right now… I’ve been ready to fix us for a long time, and I’d be the first one in line to give us all the closure we’re reaching out for.’’
You hover over him with the way he’s still seated, continuing. ‘‘But I’m not a puppet. You can’t just pull me out of the closet whenever it comes in handy, and you suddenly feel like talking things out. Like, you leave for that trip in four days and you feel like now is the time to talk things through?’’
He pauses, not uttering a single word for what feels like an eternity. His palms rub together like he’s in deep thought. And for a moment, you imagine what it would be like if your words finally seemed to work through, if they finally made an impact on him. You give him the time to process in silence, watching over him like a hawk, crossed arms over your chest.
‘‘Are you still going to see him while I’m away?’’ He finally asks, voice barely audible. His gaze fixates on a certain spot in the room, avoiding direct eye contact with you.
‘‘I don’t know, probably.’’ You huff, arms falling to your sides and losing all the hope you gathered before. ‘‘Are we still talking about Taehyung? I don’t see how this is relevant to the conversation we’re having.’’
‘‘It’s important to me,’’ Jungkook asserts, standing up from his seat and sauntering up to you with deliberate, measured steps. He takes you by the hand, guiding you a few steps further into the bedroom until you both stand in front of the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. He places his hands on your hips and continues to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘‘I need to know your answer before I give you your gift.’’
You blink slowly. A sense of weariness washes over you. ‘‘My what?’’
Jungkook holds you tightly, his front glued to your back like you’ll shrug him off anytime soon. His chest holds onto the same warmth it always has, radiating it to you and you’re instantly warming up at the feel. ‘‘You smell so good,’’ he digs his nose into a sweet spot at your neck, ignoring your confused state when he sniffs at your skin. Vanilla sugar scrub. The one he included in your valentine’s gift only a few years back, before you had gotten married. You had told him you loved it back then. And at first he thought you said it just to say it, up until the moment you started to swim in vanilla, only lasting a week or two with the product. Your brand new, shared bathroom permanently smelling like sweet vanilla and sugar, smelling like you.
You asked him where he bought it, but he wouldn’t tell. Don’t be such a guy, you told him. You had enough time in the world to run to the store and get it yourself. But he wouldn’t budge. Jungkook wanted to be the one to keep buying it for you. He wanted to be your guy; the one who bought you your vanilla sugar body scrub. And he has done it ever since he promised himself to become that guy. The one who made sure there’s a refilled bottle at your bathroom counter every month.
Jungkook places a sweet kiss on your collarbone. ‘‘It’d make me feel so good to have you on the trip, in my suite… smelling like this.’’ He says softly, veiny hands traveling over the thin, silky material of your dress until they get to slip underneath. Drawing gentle circles over your skin as you can only see the top of his head through the mirror with the way he buries his face in your neck. ‘‘I would be exhausted after working all day, but it’d be worth it. Don’t you think?’’
‘‘Jungkook…’’ He doesn’t give you much time to continue when his lips press against your skin. Wet, loud and lewd pecks left in an unfamiliar pattern down your neck.
Jungkook hums in the crook of your neck. ‘‘Maybe a change in environment would do us good.’’ His fingertips tickle you when they continue to feel you up, curling around the thin lace of your thong as he tugs at it. You’re unable to prevent the sweet gasp from coming out when it moves between your ass cheeks. “We’d get to be away from the house for a little while. To take all the time in the world to make up, to make sure we’re okay and ready to move on.”
You don’t stop him when his fingers carefully dip beneath the lace of your underwear, and you’re sure your brain has altered you from pushing him away. Altered you from standing your ground with two firm feet planted to the ground. Instead, you melt into him with the back of your own head prompted to his shoulder this time, bare neck on full display for him. You feel your knees getting weaker when he presses two fingers to your sensitive bud with a bit more pressure than you’re used to, his other hand holding onto you tightly to keep you standing.
It usually starts like this. One moment you’re arguing with him, pouring your heart out and laying yourself bare before him, and the next, you fall into him, forgetting what you were about to say next as you reach out for a breath of air. It doesn’t take long before you’re completely losing yourself in his arms, against his chest, two of his inked fingers dipping into your heat even as your walls begin to tighten around them. You don’t stop him, you love each drag of his thick fingers in your cunt as you stand on your tippy toes, tightly holding onto him at the nape of his neck while he fingerfucks you into another world. Jungkook sneaks a glance at you through the mirror every now and then. Once now, twice when he can feel his dick erect in his pants at the sight of your pinched eyes, your heavy breaths and your hardened nipples through your dress.
Jungkook brings you out to the bed when you nearly tip over without the heels of your feet supporting your weight. He lays you down carefully like you’re fragile, like you’ll break down any minute. Spreading your legs with your panties shoved to the side, he curses to himself when he laps at your sweet juices, coating his tongue as he sucks it up without a complaint as your fingers curl in his hair and back arches off the mattress. Pride is what he feels. Pride is what he feels when you tell him he’s wearing too much, when you tell him he could lose some and you wouldn’t mind. He does as you desire, taking off his dress pants as well as his already stained boxers to reveal the hard-on he’s been hiding. Red and swollen dick that’s so erect, it bounces back to his stomach. He watches as you eye fuck him, as your mouth waters only at the sight. At the ideas that swim through your head. It’s a tit for a tat, he tells you. A give and a take. You want him just as much as he wants you. It’s only fair you both get what you want.
It’s when you disregard your flimsy dress over the top of your head, tits bouncing back and hair splayed out over the bed when he feels like he starts to lose control. Fisting his cock in your warm, slick hand in between your bodies, you pump him up and down as he reaches for another kiss that leaves you breathless beneath him. He doesn’t mind you gasping for air every now and then, enjoying the feel of your chest rising up and down against his own. Hips thrust into your hand when your grip becomes a little tighter, a little more precise and a little more skilled, thumb reaching to tease at his tip. But he stops himself before he shoots his load right onto your stomach. If he’s coming anywhere tonight, it’s going to be inside you.
You know that’s exactly what he wants when you get to all fours for him. Knees digging into the made sheets, your face buried in the soft satin with your ass high up in the air just the way he likes. Jungkook’s hands are at your hips without hesitation, gripping onto your hips as he lines up to your sweet cunt. The first stroke is the one most careful. Even after being together for a total of 7 years, each and every time, you need some time getting used to his size. It doesn’t matter, whatever feels best for you, is what he has said from the beginning. After all, it’s all worth it when he gets to pound deep into you mere minutes later, skin slapping against skin as he watches your ass cheeks bounce back and forth.
He can’t take it. He needs to see all of you from each angle available. You’re not surprised when he gently tugs you up by the arm, though you nearly melt into him again and all your weight shifts onto him to carry back to the full length mirror leaned up against the wall. He pumps into your pussy there, making you watch as you get fucked from behind with a hand wrapped around your throat and an arm hunched around your waist to keep you glued to him. Your heavy breaths melt together the faster his pace increases, hitting your sweet spot with every pound of his hips into yours, with dirty thoughts slipping his tongue, with every drag of his cock into your dripping cunt while he consumes each plea coming from your lips. Begging him to fuck you until you lose it. Begging him to feel his cum inside you as you feel his every inch, feel his everything.
He does as you plead in the end. Jungkook comes undone inside you, your ass pressed against him while pretty whimpers leave your pretty mouth and he ignores his own panting to get the best out of you. His hips stutter when warm spurts of cum fill you up, leaving you like a mess hanging onto him with all the energy you have left over.
But he takes care of you after, like he always does. Jungkook lays you back onto the bed carefully, returning from the bathroom with a damp, warm towel as he cleans you up and hoists you back into your dress and beneath the slick sheets. He pushes your hair out of your face, pushes strands and pieces behind your ear and makes sure the sheets are pulled up to your shoulders. You lay on his side of the bed, eyes heavy lidded and ready to drift off. But he doesn’t mind. You’re exhausted, and for good reason.
‘‘Before you fall asleep, princess,’’ he begins softly, fingers gently brushing at your forehead to push off imaginary strands of hair, watching as your eyes flicker open slowly. ‘‘I need to give you my gift.’’
You had forgotten all about the gift.
Jungkook hovers over you, reaching for the envelope at his nightstand that has your name on it in that awful handwriting of his. He hands it to you and you take the piece of paper in your hands, fiddling with the corners of it as your eyes meet his again. He can’t quite pinpoint what it is that runs through your head, but your brows slightly furrow like you’re afraid to open it up.
‘‘It’s yours.’’ He nudges at your side, fist supporting the weight of his head next to you as he leans in closer. His voice is gentle, almost comforting, as if he wants to ease any worries you’ve been keeping from him.
You open it up, revealing another piece of paper inside of it.
First class passenger’s boarding pass.
He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction with those big eyes. ‘‘So, what do you say?’’ He asks impatiently. ‘‘Are you coming with me on that trip?’’
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cutielando · 11 months ago
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secret | m.v.
synopsis: in which you're in love with the enemy
my masterlist
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You couldn't stop giggling, desperately trying to keep your lips on Max's. 
"Shh, you're gonna get us caught, you know" Max mumbled against your lips, searching his pockets for the hotel room card.
"I don't even care right now"" you whispered back, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to hold yourself up.
Max had officially been crowned the World Champion for the third time in a row and, seeing as you couldn't celebrate with him in the paddock, you were desperate to get your hands on each other the moment you arrived at the hotel.
You had told your uncle, Toto, that you weren't feeling well and would call it a night early to make sure nobody would mind you missing the team celebrations and debriefs.
"God damn it" Max cursed as he pulled away from you and frantically searched his pockets again, smiling when he finally pulled out the card.
"Allow me" you whispered sultry, turning around and pushing yourself against him, which made him groan.
You smiled to yourself as you pushed the key card in, eager to celebrate your boyfriend the way he deserved to be celebrated.
However, as soon as you pushed Max inside the room, before you could even think about following him, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
"Y/N?" your first instinct was to freeze on the spot but you immediately shut the door to Max's room, trying to make yourself look presentable before turning around and looking at Max's engineer, Lambiase.
"Hi, Gianpero" you were trying to keep the emotions which were running high through your body at bay, hoping he hadn't noticed anything that would raise his suspicions.
"What are you doing here? This is Max's room" he was confused, but it didn't seem like he had any suspicions whatsoever about what you could have been doing there.
"Oh, I just figured I would swing by and congratulate him because I didn't get around to it at the track. Wasn't feeling well so I didn't go out and saw this opportunity before he went to bed" the easiness with which you just lied to this man surprised even you, as well as Max who had his ear against the door and was listening to your conversation.
"Oh, yeah, makes sense. Isn't Toto looking for you? Does he know you're here?" he asked, looking around.
"Yeah, I told him I would stop by Max's room to say congrats before going to bed" you nodded, eyeing the engineer to make sure he would buy your story.
He thought for a moment before nodding, wishing you a good night and departing down the hall to his own room.
After making sure there was nobody else that could see you, you knocked on Max's door and he was quick to open it, tugging you close and kissing you again.
"You're hot when you lie" he whispered, teasing you as you rolled your eyes but fell deeper into the kiss.
"Shut up"
♡♡♡♡♡
Working for Mercedes this particular Max-dominated season was a bitch, to put it like that. You couldn't even congratulate your boyfriend on his wins in public, fearing it would draw attention to both of you and your relationship would become public.
Something neither of you wanted, for now.
You knew it would give Toto a heart attack, so you preferred to wait and see if the relationship was as serious as you thought it was before you told him anything.
However, Max was getting tired of hiding all the time. He loved you, and even though sneaking around everyone's back was fun, he wanted everyone to know how happy he was with you.
He didn't want to hide anymore.
"Babe?" he had been meaning to talk to you about this for a while now, and figured the end of the season was as good of an opportunity as you were going to get.
"Yes?" you were in the bathroom, doing your skincare routine before getting ready for bed.
You had both decided to remain in Abu Dhabi for a couple more days after the season finish, all the other teams having already packed and left for their homes.
Your uncle was especially finding it weird that you wanted to stay longer and even offered to stay with you, but you insisted you would be fine on your own and just wanted to go on an adventure by yourself.
"I've been meaning to ask you something for a little while" he started, fiddling with his fingers.
You didn't say anything, only speaking once you exited the bathroom and took a seat next to him on the shared bed of your hotel room.
"What's up?" you were caressing his slightly damp hair, having taken a shower just before you.
"I know we've been having fun sneaking around and so for the last couple of months, but I think it's time to let everyone know about us? The season's over, everything is cooling down" he explained, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles.
You thought it through in your head, not speaking for a couple of moments. He was right. The season was over, the public attention would soon die down, the tensions between the teams were always gone during the winter break, your uncle was always relaxed and let go of everything during the holidays. It would be the perfect opportunity.
"Let's do it" you finally spoke up, watching his face slowly lighten up and his eyes starting to twinkle.
"Really?" he was slightly shocked, having been sure that you would be opposed to the idea altogether.
"Yes. I know I've been asking a lot from you, hiding this for so many months because I didn't want to tarnish your reputation. You've been patient with me, plus it was about time I showed the world you're mine and only mine" you cupped his cheek and pecked his lips, smiling once you saw the happy expression on your boyfriend's face.
"I love you" he said before attacking your face with kisses, making you giggle.
"I love you too"
♡♡♡♡♡
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liyaauhr · 4 months ago
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Aiden & Taylor HC’s because no-one talks about them enough! 🎢
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— disaster child + disaster child = recipe for chaos
— After her father’s death, Taylor never really got to have a normal childhood like most people her age. She didn’t want to rely on her twin brother constantly for help and had an emotionally unavailable mother so she spent her time trying to help out around the house as much as possible. Her first time goofing off was actually with Aiden who convinced her to skip class to go to the skate park and taught her how to skateboard.
— Gossip about their classmates ALL THE TIME. Literally Taylor will call up Aiden at the ass crack of dawn being like “OH MY GOD you will NOT believe whats been going on with blah blah blah” and Aiden would immediately be like “OMG wtf??? Oh I knew they were a bitch 🙄”
— They team up to cheat in uno. Both of them sneak in +4 cards to their deck and trade cards underneath their legs like dealers to get the people they’ve targeted out in the round. This person is usually Tyler because he has a whole FLIP OUT and when it’s not him it’s Ashlyn because you cannot tell me she wouldn’t get competitive and be a sore loser.
No. this is totally not based off of personal experience. (My friends suck 🤧)
— Once during Christmas, after watching so many movies (and paying attention to none) Aiden had the bright idea of recreating the traps in Home Alone. His parents were away and Taylor tried to talk him out of it…but then he offered a monthly supply of chocolate bunnies and a declaration of a prank war on Tyler so naturally, she concedes. The whole thing was surprisingly easy considering Aiden just has a bunch of questionable random junk lying around that is that is scary dangerous when utilised so with Taylor’s craftiness and Aiden’s creativity the two of them end up making some unstoppable traps. Unfortunately, instead of taking them down once they were finished, both of them got sidetracked by making cookies for the rest of the group to eat. As of on queue, a poor unknowing Ben had walked into the front door after guitar lessons with Tyler and well…you can imagine the disaster! Literally hundreds of booby traps flying at him from every damn corner, every wrong step taken resulted in another attack and eventually a net came out of nowhere and trapped him mid-air!
(Tyler was behind him and could not stop laughing for a good hour as Aiden and Taylor watched in horror, he now has infinite blackmail material in his gallery.)
— I hc that while Tyler is a great cook, Taylor is an excellent baker! When she’s concentrated she can make some really good cookies and cakes that she had learned from her mum.
Key word: WHEN SHE’S CONCENTRATED
Long story short, they’ve blown up a whole kitchen before (at least it was Aiden’s).
— These two 100% do dumb tiktok challenges together and you cannot convince me otherwise.
— Before the Savannah trip, I like to think that Taylor was intrigued by Aiden’s energy when he first arrived especially considering she’s the type to notice people who aren’t necessarily well known (as seen with Ashlyn). Whenever she saw him he was always smiling and goofing off with the tall guy that followed him around and she sorta missed that feeling after losing it so long ago when her father died. Her brother and mother had never been the same since and Tyler became more serious, not to mention her other friends weren’t exactly the silly type.
And the two seemed to stick to the ginger haired girl like glue (to her dismay). She found it funny watching them annoy her to no end and Ashlyn had always been someone she had secretly wanted to get to know.
I feel like a part of her really wanted to make friends with them from the beginning because while the people Tyler and Taylor hung out with were nice enough, they always felt so disconnected and out of touch from them.
— They share a PE class together and literally both choose not to try in class and instead choose to goof off and gossip instead.
— Once Aiden’s roots were growing out and Taylor noticed and offered to re-dye it for him. Turns out she has 0 hair skills (all the genes went to Tyler lol) and Tyler walked in on the both of them in the bathroom. Aiden with patchy bleached hair that looks like its frying itself raw and Taylor with random bleached streaks and botched bangs. Safe to say, neither of them are allowed to use hair products and tools anymore.
— They match together for Halloween because everyone else is a loser who can’t accept their amazing ideas (e.g chicken onesies, angry birds etc.)
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lordprettyflackotara · 5 months ago
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dollhouse || jeff the killer || bonus part
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SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: spanking, jeff has a daddy kink, slapping, jeff’s just a sadistic asshole in this one, blood, brief description of gore
a/n: what’s this?! a double feature in one day?! yeah fuckers yall got the bonus part! i apologize for the delay my mind stayed lagging. i hope you all enjoyed the mini series <3
“This is our last chance. Dont fuck it up!” You hissed.
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Oh yes because taking out the target is sooo hard. I think I may cry,” He barked sarcastically. Slender had given you both one final chance to right your wrongs. Your last mission had ended with one too many news channels showing the camera footage of you and Jeff escaping the hospital. Nothing too identifying could be found of course, detectives puzzled on how Jeff was able to paint the walls and leave no fingerprints behind.
Little did they know the culprit had burned off his fingerprints ages ago. You crossed your arms, frowning. “The motorcycle was the best thing Ben could find on such short notice?” You asked. Jeff shoved his motorcycle helmet on, reving up the engine. “You are always welcome to walk doll,” He snickered. You stomped over to the motorcycle, shoving your own helmet over your head. You mocked him under your breath, throwing your legs over the seat. You couldn’t decide which was worse, dying at the hands of Jeff driving a motorcycle or being tortured to death by Slender.
As the motorcycle roared to life, you began to wonder just how bad Slender torturing you to death would be.
It was no secret you and Jeff were an item. The two of you were the obnoxious married couple of the mansion, terrorizing not only everyone around you but each other. There was a guarantee if you both were in the same room that you’d bicker until you’d go upstairs and fuck the anger out. It made the other residents sick. Sometimes they’d place bets on who would win the fight. Other times they’d high tail out of the room if you both entered. You’d argue with Jeff until your very last breath and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Slenderman was not happy with either of you. His alternative was having you both dress up as scarecrows to defend his garden in a hundred degree heat. You both agreed to this mission without hesitation. It should’ve been simple enough, killing the newspaper chief who insisted on covering the story. As you wrapped your arms around Jeff from behind, you realized you never really knew how easy a mission was going to be with Jeff coming along. To you, Jeff was an anger filled imbecile who thought with his rage and not his mind. And to Jeff, you were a smart mouthed bitch who talked too much. The two of you together versus anyone else was a lethal combo.
It was around two in the morning when you both arrived to the house, parking the motorcycle blocks away as to not draw attention from the loud sounds. You grabbed your knife, following Jeff’s lead as he picked the lock to the back door. It was moments like these, when Jeff had shut the fuck up, that you were attracted to him the most. Once he picked the lock you both crept inside, watching each others backs. It was always unpredictable, home murders. There was always the chance the owner had a dog or some kind of pet to try to protect its person. Then there was always the possibility of an alarm system, an investment the chief of this newspaper company should’ve seriously considered.
You both scanned the kitchen and living room. Due to the time you guessed he was asleep, like most humans were. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, the ticking of the old grandfather clock the only audible sound. That was, until you reached the main hallway. Thankfully for you and Jeff the chief lived alone, providing them with zero additional witnesses to send to hell. His soft snores alerted you of where he was located. Jeff slid in first, crouching down to the floor on the left side of the bed. You went to take the right, a loud creaking floorboard alerting the newspaper editor awake. He shot up out of bed, grabbing the baseball bat that was laying by his nightstand.
“I knew you’d come for me! You witch!” He hissed. You were caught off guard, his sudden alertness causing you to take a step back. He jumped off of the bed, attempting to swing his bat at you. You barely managed to dodge the attack, Jeff’s arm wrapping around the editors chest. “Surprise bitch. Bet you thought i’d let you kill my girl huh? Fucking stupid asshole,” Jeff snarled. He brought his knife to the editors neck, slicing his throat open in a quick and fluid motion. The crimson paint sprayed out of him, washing over you like a rainfall. It splattered onto your face and body, the editors body slumping to the floor. You frowned as you looked down at your jacket. “Are you deadass Jeffrey? I just got this!” You barked. Jeff raised his eyebrows.
“Are you kidding me? I just saved your life!” He argued. You glared at the dead editor, a pool of his blood forming at both of your shoes. “Oh great. Now it’s on my new heels too. You’re going to have to replace these!” You spat. Jeff threw his hands in the air dramatically. “Oh cmon it’s just a little bit of blood. You’re telling me you can’t handle blood?” Jeff questioned. You crossed your arms, clenching your jaw. “I can handle blood Jeffrey but my tory burch heels cannot,” You gritted through your teeth. Jeff twirled his knife around in his fingers lazily, clearly unamused. “Maybe get better shoes then. Not my fault you made this mission a fashion show,” He replied dryly. You grabbed him by his hoodie, shoving him back onto the bed.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve, you know that? You’re such a fucking dick! I can’t stand you,” You snarled. You crawled on top of you, straddling him as he relaxed against the mattress. “You look pretty hot covered in blood babe, remind me to soak you in it more often,” Jeff grinned. You rose your hand, delivering a sharp slap to his cheek. Jeff’s cocky expression fell, his gaze hardening. “Oh that’s how you wanna play? Fine,” He huffed. He flipped the two of you over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. His grip restricted your airway, a smile spreading across your lips. “You pain addicted bitch. I’ll show you pain,” Jeff growled. He flipped up your skirt, before throwing you over his knees. He delivered a sharp slap to your ass, a painful whine escaping your lips.
“Fucking count them or i’ll leave you to get off on the dead guys dick,” Jeff spat. He delivered another smack, a shock of pain electrical as it went down your spine. “One,” You let out lowly. He slapped your other cheek as hard as he could. He grinned sadistically as your skin turned a dark red. He wondered if he could get it to bruise. “Two,” You whimpered. Jeff’s hand strayed from the mounds of your ass, exploring your drenched panties. “This wet from me abusing you? You really are a pain slut,” He snickered. He delivered three more spanks, your body shuddering in pain as you counted them all. Tears had welt up in your eyes, your body tense as he yanked your panties down your legs.
“Awe don’t cry doll. I’m no where done with you yet,” He purred. Roughly he shoved two fingers inside of you, keeping you bent over his lap. He refused to curl his fingers, his slender digits just barely brushing against your g spot. “J-Jeff I need more,” You whined. With his spare hand Jeff delivered another smack to your ass, causing your waterline to finally flood with tears. “Well you’re not calling the shots, are you babe? Now shut the fuck up and take what I give you,” He snarled. You were a whimpering mess, the slightest touch of your abused skin making you cringe in pain. But Jeff’s fingers. His long and thick fingers. They filled up your cunt so nicely, so good. “What do we say when I make you feel good?” Jeff asked. Your mouth was running dry, tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Thank you,” You mewled. He grabbed a handful of your hair, roughly yanking you towards him. “Call me daddy bitch,” He growled. Your gaze met his dark obsidian eyes, that were determined to see you squirm. “Thank you daddy,” You whined. Jeff released your hair, shoving you back to your original position. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body hanging on to every little thrust Jeff made inside of you with his fingers. “S-s-so close,” You stuttered. Jeff delivered more harsh smacks to your ass, sadistically chuckling as you whimpered. “Go on then! Be my little painslut and cum,” He huffed. With one final slap you came around his fingers, humiliated as goosebumps spread across your skin from the cold air.
He flipped you around as he pleased, treating you like you were his fuckable ragdoll. “Go on doll, do that thing I like,” He instructed. You grabbed your ankles, placing both of them almost completely behind your head. As Jeff undid his belt he delivered a sharp slap to your clit, causing you to audibly whine. “You sure are a noisy little bitch, aren’t ya?” He asked tauntingly. He wiped away some of your tears, the splattered blood staining his thumb. Lazily he slapped the head of his cock against your folds, before slamming himself into you. You gasped as he quickly began to snap his lips into yours. “I know you can handle it. Your cunt is begging me for more, so fucking tight,” Jeff grunted. He rutted into you like he was in heat.
He pressed down against your thighs, sinking your body into the mattress. His grip was tight you knew bruises were forming, the unholy noises vibrating off of the victims walls. He pounded into your cunt like he despised you and the ground you walked on. You were so addicting, so mesmerizing. He muttered your name as he slammed into you. You held onto your legs, Jeff’s cock so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars. He delivered a sharp slap to your cheek, before roughly grabbing your face. He forced your lips to pucker out like a fish, an evil grin spread across his lips. “Such a stupid fucking whore,” He panted. You hardly had time to process the pain, his cock abusing your g spot perfectly.
You gripped onto his hoodie, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. “Fucking shit, Jeff!” You moaned. You came undone on his cock, squirting profusely over his bottom half. Jeff groaned your name as he came inside of you, his seed painting your inner walls. You both were panting messes, the sound of car doors shutting catching your attention. “Fucking hell,” Jeff grunted. He slid off of the bed, fixing his pants as he looked outside. “The neighbors called the cops on us. Goddammit. Let’s go,” Jeff growled. You shoved your panties on, the two of you running out of the back door of the house. You ran like your life depended on it, ready to go home.
\/
“What’d they do again?” Ben asked. He munched on some kettle popcorn as he floated beside Slenderman. The two were in his office, watching you and Jeff pretend to be scarecrows to defend his garden. “Besides terrorizing my existence they left semen at the scene of the crime. Both of their identities are going to be traced,” Slenderman sighed. He ignored the irritating sound of Ben munching loudly. The blonde had decided to be in ghost form today, allowing him to float carelessly.
“Gross. Hey boss, is there a particular reason you partnered them together in the first place?” Ben asked. They watched as you and Jeff tried to fight with pitchforks, both of you sweating in the relentless heat. “They’re the only individuals in this mansion that’ll love one another. If not for my pairing Jeff would have gotten his fan girl pregnant by now,” He replied. The supernatural creature straightened his back, pausing for a moment. “If Jeff unfortunately reproduces I cannot handle a carbon copy,” Slenderman elaborated. Ben fell upwards, flying around his head. “Oh I see boss! You played matchmaker. Good for you! I always wondered what you did for fun,” Ben chuckled. If Slenderman had eyebrows, he would’ve raised them.
The two watched you launch yourself at Jeff, both of you dressed in ridiculous farm clothes.
“Hey boss you wanna set me up with somebody next?”
“Watch yourself Ben.”
“Yes sir.”
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majimemegoro · 1 year ago
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Kamurocho dashboard simulator
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🏵 tojoc0re Follow
nishiki was 27 years old???
🏵 tojoc0re Follow
he shouldnt have been made a patriarch the dragon of dojima would of been better at it :/
( 420 notes )
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📸 daily-mac-photos Follow
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#kamurocho #tokyo #tenkaichi street #japan landscapes #photographers of japan #travel #cyberpunk #not as zesty as my usual subject matter but #lmao pls reblog this i almost got beat up by color gang members taking this photo
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🦢 chinpiraposting Follow
my hungry ass can't be left alone with staminam x i suck those bad boys down like juice
( 9,839 notes )
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🚲 wackycyclist Follow
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#the entitlement i see on this site sometimes is disgusting #y'all will just post about having easy access to bicycles??? #some of us had our bicycles wrecked in fights??? #vent #do not rb
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🗡 koinodiscoqueen Follow
CALLOUT FOR SHIMANO FUTOSHI
I've talked a lot about this already on this blog, but I want to have everything collected in one post so next time some dipshit with a hannya hand icon slides into my inbox to call me a liar I can just link to this post. tl;dr shimano futoshi made my cousin feel realy unsafe while she was shaving his head, and here are the receipts:
Keep reading
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🚡 matsushigeboss-deactivated30190547
fr we need to stop letting twunks be in charge of anything
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🍜 i<3kazama Follow
i stg if one more of you tells me the old yakuza way is dying I KNOW ALREADY shut UP
#feel like pure shit just want cold noodles
( 1,930 notes )
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📖 kamuroscamwatch Follow
today's scam: Aha water (again)
Was walking down pink street when I got stopped by a barker who promised that all my problems could be solved..., long story short, anyone remember Aha water from the 80s? Well, they rebranded as AHA water (subtle, I know) and they''re back at it. I stalked the people who make it and they literally collected puddle water from the champion district to put in the concoction. I didn't really feel well after drinking it, but the overall experience was good because they totally tapped into that nostalgia. Overall a really solid scam. Stay safe out there kamurocho.
4/5 stars
#scamblr #aha water #1980s #scams #scam rating #safety #scam review
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👺 hannya69 Follow
batting center is a normal place to get nastay in reblog if u agree
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🚗 thepocketcricuitfighter Follow
Does anyone here still play pocket circuit? :)
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📈 reglarsalaryman Follow
wtf this guy just ripped off his shirt in the street and started whaling on some guys?? everyone else started clapping and cheering and I just went along with it lmao 😅 am I missing something????
#this is right after he sang a song and saved a couple from jumping off a building #he was glowing too.... #average night in kamurocho
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🐛 majimaunderlingbaddiebracket Follow
ULTIMATE HOTTEST MAJIMA UNDERLING BADDIE TOURNAMENT FINALS!!!!
🔘 shinji-deactivated30190303
here y'all go again pitting two bad bitches against each other
🌀 jingusforehead Follow
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🌊 thugbaby Follow
everyone who voted minami is an arson apologist #nishidasweep
( 4,271 notes )
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🔥 businessboi Follow
fuck my job so much. everyone manifest an attack on millennium tower so I can go home.
🔥 businessboi Follow
by talos this can't be happening
( 38,386 notes )
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663 notes · View notes
scoonsalicious · 7 months ago
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 8
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, voyerism, coercive sex, manipulation, Pocket reaching her Ultimate Bitch Form.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Carthage has been spying on you and manipulating both you and Bucky from Day One.
A/N: THE FIRST TIME DIDN'T COUNT, GUYS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
“She was just toying with you, Jamie, because she could. She doesn’t respect you. Do you honestly think she would pick you over Steve Rogers? Captain Fucking America? Especially with all the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve ended? Come on, Jamie, don’t be dumb.” Video Jade caressed Bucky’s shoulders.
Bucky’s face fell, and you knew she’d hit him where it hurt him the most.
Jade sat back on her haunches on the mattress. “Don’t be stupid, Jamie,” she reiterated. “Do you really think she’d want someone like you, who can’t even control their cock in a fight, when she could have America’s Golden Dick? I bet they laugh at you, how easy it is for them to get away with it, right under your nose. You think it’s just a coincidence that, as soon as you're out of the country, she’s seen by all of New York’s elite getting cozy with your best friend? The one person you asked her to stay away from? She was just waiting for you to get out of the picture so she can show her real boyfriend off to the public.”
You watched as Bucky’s entire body clenched, his face tightening in anger. “You said you wanted to get back at her,” Jade urged, putting her hands back on Bucky’s body. “To punish her for what she did. So punish her, Jamie. Use me. Use me to make her hurt the way she made you hurt. Don’t let her play you for a fool.” You saw Bucky struggle, at war with himself, but you could see the anger pulse through him, and you knew that, with this snake whispering in his ear, there was no way he could have come to any other conclusion than that you had betrayed him. You almost felt sorry for him– he didn’t have a chance.
“Come on,” she said, leaning Bucky back so he was lying propped up on the pillows. “You won’t even need to do anything. Let me take care of you, okay? Let Vixen make you feel good.” Bucky scrunched his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face. It was painfully clear he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant, but it still hurt knowing that he had been so angry at you for something you hadn’t done that he was willing to do this.
“We just have to get Little Jamie to come out to play,” Jade teased as she straddled him. Your view was obstructed by her body, but you had no doubt that she was jerking him off in an attempt to get him hard. 
It just… seemed to be taking a really long time. 
“Come on Jamie,” Jade said after a few minutes. “You gotta help me out here. Give me a little something to work with.”
It seemed to finally work after a while, and Jade re-positioned herself as she lined Bucky up with her entrance. You couldn’t watch anymore, so you shut your eyes. It didn’t stop you from hearing the horrible sounds of her moaning as she bounced up and down on his cock, though.
You thought you were going to be sick, but then you heard it, so soft that if you had your eyes open, your senses diluted, you would have missed it. “Pocket,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Pocket. Keep going, baby. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much.”
His moans grew louder. “Pocket,” he cried, “God, baby, I miss you so fucking much!”
You started laughing. It was the fucking weirdest, most uncomfortable position you’d ever found yourself in in your entire life, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Oh my god,” you panted, trying to catch your breath as Jade looked down on you in confusion. “That’s the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!”
Jade wrapped a hand roughly around your throat and squeezed threateningly, cutting off your laughter. “What did you say?” she seethed.
You coughed when she’d released your neck and you could breathe again. A few drops of your blood had fallen from your nose to rest on Jade’s wrist. “I said, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” You jutted your chin toward the phone she still held. “You think that’s proof that he wants you? Oh, honey. You truly are a stupid cunt, aren’t you? He couldn’t even get hard for you without thinking about me. You were a convenient fleshlight– just a hole when I wasn’t available.”
You would have felt monstrous speaking to any other woman like that, truly, but you had to do everything in your power to keep her distracted, to keep her from moving forward with her plan to auction you off to the highest bidder, so that you could buy some time for the calvary to arrive. And besides, Carthage wasn’t just another woman– she was your fucking nemesis, and she deserved every foul word you could throw at her. 
God, you hoped Tony showed up first. The image of him sending Jade through the wall with a repulsor blast was enough to send you into fits of giddy laughter. Then maybe Bruce could toss her around like a ragdoll, the way he had with Loki. You’d pay to see that. You wondered if Carthage had headbutted you hard enough to cause a concussion– you certainly weren’t feeling fully in your right mind.
Jade backhanded you, the force of the blow so hard that your head snapped to the side, leaving you seeing stars. “You’re LYING!” she shouted. Grabbing you by the hair, she hoisted you up, metal chair and all, and slammed your face into the nearest wall. Perhaps she’d rattled a screw loose, because you couldn’t seem to get your laughter under control. “Don’t damage the merchandise, Vixey,” you coughed, spitting out even more blood. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances at auction, would you? Bad for business.”
“You fucking bitch!” Jade shouted. She ripped your bindings free from the chair and lifted you up by the throat. “Fuck–” she punched you in the stomach– “the auction!” In the face. “I’m gonna–” In the solar plexus– “fucking kill you–” back to the face– “myself!” Each blow was excruciating, and you were sure you’d heard a rib or two crack under the force of her fist, but still, you kept laughing at her. 
“Poor little fox,” you wheezed through the blood that was pouring down the back of your throat. “All those years wasted, thinking you could ever have a chance with him.” Your head lolled to the side as you tried to look up at her through your rapidly swelling eyelids. “Thinking you were special, that you were made for him, and you can’t even get his dick up. He’s so repulsed by you, he has to imagine being with someone else!”
“Shut up!” Jade screeched. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She grabbed your left arm in her hands and snapped it. The pain was blinding, sending your vision into a white hot pulses. You screamed, holding the broken appendage to your body, as though that would protect you. You didn’t dare look down at it; knowing you’d be sick at the sight if you did, of your arm dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle. Instead, you curled yourself up into the fetal position, cradling your arm close to your core. 
Jade began pacing the room, tugging at her hair and mumbling to herself. You couldn’t quite make out what she was saying– you only caught snippets of words, like “fucking whore,” and “mine.” The girl had completely lost it, had completely gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, you suspected you were going into shock as you listened to the rat-a-tat-tat of your rapid heartbeat. 
No. You cocked your head, listening. That wasn’t the sound of your heart, beating out of your chest– that was the sound of gunfire echoing through the bowels of the base. You strained your ears. Mixed within the gunshots, you could hear screaming, voices crying out in agony and then cut short, as if their owners suddenly lost access to their breath. 
Through the distant din, you could make out a familiar voice, roaring with rage, and the sound filled your heart up like a balloon. “POCKET!”
You started laughing again.
Jade turned to look at you, her expression furious. 
“I feel sorry for you, Vixen,” you said, grinning like a madwoman. “Me?” she asked you incredulously. “I just snapped your arm like a fucking twig and am going to enjoy the shit out of killing you nice and slowly, and you feel sorry for me?”
You nodded vigorously, gleefully noting that the sound of battle was growing closer. Bucky called for you again, his voice contorted with rage and worry. Jade turned her head toward the sound, noticing it for the first time. “Yup,” you agreed, forcing yourself to stand and face her. You could feel the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you smiled from ear to ear. “Seems like my boyfriend’s looking for me, and when he sees what you’ve done, he’s going to kick your fucking ass.”
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
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scoonsaliciousupdates · 6 months ago
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3.2 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, Bucky's past, people judging Bucky based on said past.
Word Count: 1.2k
Previously On...: Lily and Bucky went out to brunch, and she made her feelings about you known.
A/N: Eh, another part. Why not?
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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You dragged yourself into the WarZone’s flagship storefront in Midtown a few hours later than normal for a Saturday, but you’d wanted to get a couple of extra hours of sleep after Bucky had left this morning. You honestly couldn’t believe you had been up all night having mind blowing sex with a man you had just met. 
Your first thought upon waking up that morning was that he had left in the early pre-dawn hours, but those fears were cast aside as soon as you registered the weight of his arm around your midsection, tucking you against him. Then, you were hit with the concern that he was going to think you were just an easy lay and decide he never wanted to see you again, but to your immense surprise, he’d asked you to have dinner with him that same night. You’d have to be a fucking idiot to have said no.
“Uh oh, someone’s tardy,” said your office assistant, Zadie, as you finally made your way into work. “You’re lucky the boss isn’t here to see you show up late, Major.” She grinned at you, and you stuck your tongue out at her. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Zade,” you said, picking up the pile of mail that had been placed on your desk and beginning to sort through it. “Good thing the boss and I are tight; I think she’ll let it slide.”
“Oh, look who decided to finally show up,” came the voice of the location’s manager, Rand, as he came out of one of the rage rooms. He turned to Zadie. “Either you or I had the audacity to come in three hours late, we wouldn’t hear the end of it.”
You rolled your eyes at your friend and longtime employee. “Yeah, well, come back at me when it’s your name signing the paychecks, okay, Rand?”
“Relax,” he said, “we’re just giving you shit for the fun of it. So what’s the deal? You have a hot date last night or something?”
“I thought you said you were going out to get drinks with Natasha?” Zadie asked.
You slid down into your desk chair, wiggling your mouse to wake up your computer. “I did,” you told her. “Wait,” said Rand, coming over to sit on the edge of your desk. “Like, Natasha Romanoff, our hottest customer? That Natasha?”
“That would be her,” you said, not really paying him much attention as you navigated to your work emails and took a sip of the coffee you’d brought with you to keep yourself awake.
“Oh. My. God,” Rand said, beaming at you. “Major, did you hook up with an Avenger last night?!”
You choked on the sip you’d just taken. “How in the hell did you figure that out, Rand?!” you asked, astonished.
“You had sex with the Black Widow?!” Zadie exclaimed. “Major, that is amazing! How was she? Oh my god, I bet she was fantastic!” Your friend sighed. “She looks like she knows what to do with her tongue.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you tried to get a word in edgewise. “I did not have sex with Natasha,” you clarified when the two finally let you talk. They looked at you expectantly. “I had sex with Bucky Barnes,” you confessed, hiding your face in your hands to hide your grin and your blush.
Zadie and Rand stared at you silently, their mouths hanging open in disbelief. “What?” you asked them, 
after the silence had stretched on a little too long.
“You fucked the Winter Soldier?” Rand asked eventually in a monotone. “Do you have a death wish, or are you fucking insane?”
“Major, did you not follow his trial?” Zadie asked you. “It was all over the news, like, four and a half years ago.”
You swallowed and shook your head. You most certainly had not followed his trial; you’d been a little preoccupied getting divorced and hadn’t been in a frame of mind to be paying much attention to the media.
“He was convicted for, like, a bunch of murders and crimes against humanity and shit,” Zadie said. 
You felt your heart plunge into your stomach. Of course, the first guy you really connected with since your divorce, who had blown your mind with his bedroom skills, was a convicted murderer. Of fucking course.
But then a thought hit you– “If he was convicted for all that,” you said, thinking it over, “how is he not in prison? I mean, he’s a friend of Nat’s; fuck, he’s best buddies with Captain Freaking America; and Steve Rogers doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to just casually chill with serial killers.”
“He got a Presidential pardon,” Rand explained. “There were supposedly extenuating circumstances. But, I mean, it was just sex. It’s not like you’re gonna start dating the man or anything, right?”
You stayed silent, avoiding looking Rand in the eye.
“Right, Major?” he asked you pointedly. “Just say ‘Of course I would not date the convicted felon, Rand. I value the preservation of my life’.”
“You said there were extenuating circumstances,” you responded. “What were they?”
“What, is his dick, like, magic or something?” Zadie asked, eyeing you suspiciously. 
“Among other things,” you answered sheepishly.
Rand threw his hands up in the air. “For fuck’s sake,” he shouted. “It’s like she wants to be a Dateline episode!”
“I just don’t want to pass judgment without knowing all the facts,” you told him. “Or giving him a chance to explain himself.” They both looked at you skeptically. “Guys, he just… He just doesn’t seem like that kind of person! He’s an Avenger, for crying out loud! Tasked with saving the world! Do you really think they’d let him join them if he was a dangerous criminal? Seriously?”
Zadie and Rand exchanged a glance, as if silently communicating that you’d lost your mind.
“You know what?” you asked, exasperated. “It’s my life. If I want to go out with him, I’m gonna go out with him, and you guys just have to accept that.”
“We’re just tryna look out for you, boss,” Zadie said softly. “It worries us.”
You felt your annoyance with them dampen somewhat. “I appreciate that, guys. But I’m a grown ass adult with combat training. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, but he���s–” Rand began, but you interrupted him. “I’m done talking about it, Rand,” you said pointedly. “Now, Zadie, I need you to contact the Queens branch and tell them to add the name ‘Peter Parker’ to our VIP list, no charge.”
Zadie nodded and moved to pick up the phone.
“And Rand,” you said, turning back to face him, “if I do decide that I want to start dating Bucky, that’ll mean you might see him around here. You don’t have to go out of your way to be friends with him, or even be around him, but if your paths do cross, I ask that you remain civil, please.”
Rand nodded. “If you can guarantee he won’t murder me,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head dismissively. You were going to have to dig in to Bucky’s history to find out exactly what he’d been convicted for, and what, exactly, these “mitigating circumstances” had been.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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athanza · 7 months ago
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Starlett - Part 3
Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)
Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some fluff
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence
This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | Final part
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Suddenly Irene looked unsteady and she held a hand to the wound on her side.
"Fancy seein' you here." She chuckled painfully.
"I know, I haven't changed a bit."
She laughed but immediately regretted it, groaning in pain.
"You uh," she said, blood dripping down her leg. "you wouldn't happen to have a stimpak on you would ya? I'm uh...I'm not feelin' too hot."
He looked her over, the gash was deep, she'd need more than one stimpak. "Unfortunately I don't think I do."
Suddenly her legs gave out from underneath her and she collapsed.
"Whoa." He said, catching her before she hit the ground.
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Irene woke up hours later, lying on her back in what looked like a small cave, her head resting on a saddle bag.
She didn't look any different than she did before the war, albeit a little dishevelled, Cooper figured that however Moldaver survived must've been how she did.
"Coop." Irene croaked.
He looked up from cleaning his revolver and saw her try to move.
"Easy there Starlett, you're pretty banged up."
She winced in pain again and lay back down. "I thought you were dead." She said, weak from the blood loss.
"I should be. So should you."
"Fate had other plans I guess."
Cooper scoffed quietly. She didn't press it, even though she wanted to know if Janey made it.
"You're gonna need some proper medical attention." He said. "Ain't much out here though."
"Eh, it's just a scratch." She joked, swallowing a mouth-full of blood.
Cooper got up and handed her a flask of water, half empty. She took a few sips and handed it back.
"I'm lookin' for Lee, you know where I can find 'er?
"I've been looking for her myself, I'm afraid I can't help you there, I've found nothing but dead ends. The bitch is hard to find even in a fucking desert."
He smiled a little at the very different tone coming out of her mouth than he remembered; she must've been in the wasteland for a little while, at least.
"I'm glad I found you cowboy. You're about the only fond memory I've got left. I needed that right about now."
"I'm not the man you remember."
"Doesn't matter. You've reminded me of something I haven't seen in years."
"And what's that?"
"Kindness."
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The doorbell rang and Cooper opened it to find Irene looking remarkably understated compared to her shows, but she still had that aire of grace that she always carried with her no matter where she was.
"Come on in." He smiled, stepping aside for her.
"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay, I know its a lot of ask of someone you just met."
"It's the least I can do."
He closed the door and took her suitcase for her.
Janey appeared with Roosevelt, having been playing in the backyard and Cooper gestured to her.
"Irene, this is my daughter Janey. Janey this is Irene, the friend from work I was telling you about."
"Irene Taylor!?" She said, her eyes sparkling. "I've seen you on TV! Your voice is sooo beautiful! You definitely should have won the award on last month's show."
Irene and Cooper both laughed.
"Looks like you have a fan."
"That's very kind of you." Irene smiled sweetly.
"Janey, why don't you watch some cartoons while I show Irene to her room?"
"Ok." She beamed and sat down with Roosevelt in front of the TV.
Irene followed Cooper to the back of the house where the guest room was and looked at all the family photos as they walked through. Wedding photos, Janey's baby photos, a puppy photo of Roosevelt. When they finally reached the room she felt even more uncomfortable.
"This is you." He said, placing her suitcase on the bed.
"I'm so sorry to put you in this position Mr. Howard, I do appreciate it very much. I didn't know who else to come to."
"Don't worry about it." He smiled warmly. "I'm just glad you decided to leave."
"So am I. You made me realise the cause wasn't worth the abuse, no matter how much I told myself it was. Lee won't be happy but it'll be worth it in the end."
"I'm sure it will."
She smiled softly at him. "I'll let you get back to your daughter. You'll barely know I'm here."
"Nonsense," he said. "You're joining us for dinner, plus I'm sure Janey would love to spend some time with you."
She got choked up a bit at that. Everything she had done since getting into show business had been for other people, someone doing something like this for her was something special.
"Thank you Mr. Howard."
"Cooper." He replied.
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Irene lay sleeping and Cooper sat wondering what to do with her.
He couldn't spare any resources, and he didn't need stimpaks, so he had none. Could he carry her to Filly and get her to a doctor? Sure, but that was in the opposite direction of where he was headed, where they were both headed.
It would be more humane to shoot her now to save her the pain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and it angered him.
"Fuck." He said, getting to his feet and picking up his gun, walking out of the cave in search of supplies.
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runnning-outof-time · 9 months ago
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Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!
Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)
Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
What A Way to Meet Your Boss
Arthur Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name
Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)
Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.
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(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.
But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.
“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.
But it didn’t pan out that way.
Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”
The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.
It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.
“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.
“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.
“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?
“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.
“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.
“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.
“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.
“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.
“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.
“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.
Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.
“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.
“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.
(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.
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*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out
MASTERLIST
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ellieslittleburrow · 5 months ago
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Summary : You were supposed to come home at dusk. But the flaming sunset was too beautiful not to enjoy. Joel doesn't like that.
Warnings : None, just the very beginning of a father-daughter relationship
A/N : Comments and critics are welcome 🥺🥺👉👈 your girl needs them ❤️
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It's....some time after dusk and your body is vibrating, endorphins being the cause of that. You rush "home" calling out for Joel as you enter the house.
"There you are" You turn to him when your eyes find him. "Youwould nnnot believe my view today." You start walking up to him, momentarily wondering why his features are still-but you're elsewhere, really it was-"Such a good view-the clouds orned the sky with like-a shit ton of colors and all the greens turned into these like-muddy greys and-
"Shut it, Y/N" A sigh of exhaustion follows his rage, causing you to shake your head in disbelief, stopping mid sentence.
"Wha-"
"When did i tell you to come back?"
"Uh" You watch the man, examining his facial traits-which now that you actually look-don't seem as amazed as you are by that story youre telling-
"I asked you a question, Y/N" he gets up and you take a step back, jerking your head again in, slowly processing things.
"You...before it gets dark-But i really didn't think it was such a big deal i mean-" your eyes widen as his face extorts.
Maybe youuuu shouldnt have said that??
"But its only been a few minutes since it got dark." You attempt a defensive response but given the bitter scoff that just left his lips- "not a big deal?" it's easy to say your attempt has failed.
"Not a big deal?" Joel's voice abruptly rises. "Do you have any idea what i had gone through in the past hour?" He leans inward and you lean away, tensing up.
"Joel i wouldnt have g-"
"Next time i tell you to do something-You do it. Get it?"
You watch him, ignoring the question.
"Get it?" He asks again, voice lower and teeth gritted.
"Joel-im sorry i didn't mean to d-"
But Joel walks away, unforgiving, causing you to unconsciously and softly launch yourself at his back, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your cheek against his back.-What else would you do- "Joel i swear i didn't mean to scare you-I'm sorry" You bury your cheek harder against his back.
And as silence sets in, His fingers softly brush against yours, and for a second it seems like he's giving it a thought-before he averts his hand away and yanks yours from his waist.
"Just don't do it again." His voice is softer than earlier, calm and more collected.
It's not your first fight, really. It's just your first....sentimental one. He's never acted this way before, and you've never actually done such a thing not on purpose. Sure, you carried a gun without him knowing for a while. And you lied to him about your whereabouts a million times. But you never even thought he'd ever get this worried.
Does that mean he's getting protective over you?
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@mymelodymia
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I've been overthinking this bitch for the past month. I'm sincerely hoping yall liked it ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀
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faetthorn · 2 months ago
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Probably my only contribution to the Pathologic fandom
Some important words below, if you're a patho fan take the time to read them
TW: pedophilia, SA, grooming, racism, colonialism
So I got into pathologic in july and almost instantly got hit with a post about the allegations from back in 2021 against Nikolay Dybowski, game creator and founder of Ice Pick Lodge. He’s groomed several girls ages 15-18 and inclusively has used his position as a member of HSE University in Moscow to do so. 3 years on and people have all forgotten this and are happily cheering for the bachelor route like nothing ever happened 
Yes I know you all wanna forget abt the uncomfortable situations, after all "what can we do" right? I wish I could just pull a switch in my brain and forget too, but I'm a victim of SA and child grooming, and I can't play this game without remembering what its creator did. The worst part is that the characters mean a lot to me. I got into pathologic while suffering from ptsd related nightmares and Daniil, Artemy and Clara brought me a lot of joy and comfort. Even now they and some elements of patho’s story mean the world to me. It hurts to be constantly reminded that everyone is against you, no matter how much you appreciate their work, no matter how much time and money you put into doing it.
I'd properly join the fandom and start calling for a boycott and for these allegations to be discussed and reminded of again but I just know it'll never happen. I'd be ignored or get a thousand replies "oh but the employees, they have nothing to do with it!!" "it's just a game!" "it'll get you nowhere!" “age of consent is x y or z in this country!” "stop being a vindictive little bitch!" "*insert rape threat here*" I expect to receive 0 support on this post and I'll block anyone I need to. Just wanted to let this out of my chest even if nothing will change: Petitions don't work, they never did and they never will. Passivity and politeness never got ME shit, at least.
DOXA, the rus student newspaper investigating these allegations was raided by police (1, 2) and recently considered an undesirable organization by the government. The courts and police would never do anything about this and they’re clearly more invested in persecuting student groups that have even the most basic feminist goals. A victim of Dybowski's has allegedly tried to denounce him to HSE University and the charges were dropped so as far as we know Dybowski wasn’t even fired. Not only is he the creator and chief writer of the games but he's also the head of the studio. Spreading awareness and boycotting is the only way justice can be made (at least in a way non-russians can participate). If you’re considering playing pathologic i cannot recommend it and i don’t want to be the reason someone gives more money to Dybowski. You don’t need more harmful shit when you have 2 games, a dlc and wonderful fandom content the game would never make canon. Hell, PIRATE all the games if you really need to. When the bachelor route comes out the IPL employees will have already been paid for it. Also, let’s not forget that WE DON’T KNOW where the profits we give will go. They might go to CP.  
I wonder why it's so easy for you all to rightfully call to boycott anything related to zionism without making excuses but then when it's a pedophile with countless cases of grooming and very probably rape you all stay quiet and do nothing just because it's your precious little interests. It's almost like it's all performative
In the same vein, there needs to be a discussion about how violently racist this game is because this art came from anger and sadness. I’m not indigenous but i’ve followed native activism for years and i wouldn’t have the beliefs i have today without the opinions of indigenous people. I know feeling betrayed by the art you use to cope with how horrible reality is is tough. Not only does this game have extremely racist stereotypes and portrays natives as a monolith, but it’s also unsurprisingly misogynistic in an extremely colonial way (need i remind you of Willow, the entire concept of the herb brides and the way they are dressed or the fixation with portraying steppe people as woman-sacrificing brutes). Not to mention the extreme cruelty of patho 2’s endings. Which is way more insulting when it’s directly tied via the in-game use of Buryat language and inspirations to the native peoples of Siberia who Russia colonized and whose culture is still actively repressed, at a time when the weight of colonization (environmental catastrophe, poverty, sexual violence and more) makes indigenous people commit suicide at a way higher rate than any other ethnicity in many countries, and this includes the native people of Siberia who this game “pays homage” to (1). This fandom in general needs to start being way more critical and checking their own racism too. And to any native patho fans i’m obviously not here to tell you how to feel abt patho’s racism
Well, there it is. I have no hope left to ask anyone to boycott the bachelor route or the other projects Dybowski's created but if this makes you think about the things you throw money at it’ll be something
Edit: I apparently need to clarify something since certain people have been pestering me about it. I'll keep standing behind the part where I say the profits (not the money used to pay the employees, the PROFITS) might go to CP. We're talking about a guy who has been sexually abusing underage girls since allegedly at least 2012 with full impunity. And let me repeat once again: we are not responsible for the IPL employees' well-being and payment. Dybowski is.
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bestworstcase · 3 months ago
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& in fact one of the things that makes salem compelling as a character is this juxtaposition between her personal cruelty and the rightness of her cause; it bears repeating that she chose to live in exile rather than fight back for thousands of years while ozma dedicated himself to the cause of destroying her, and that her war follows on the heels of ozma forging a global alliance and then, as ozpin, abruptly locking down the relics in apparent preparation to summon the brothers back to remnant. if salem’s true goal is to avert the final judgment—get rid of the gods—then it is clear from the historical timeline and the events immediately preceding her commitment to war that she really did not want to go to war.
but with the information she has and the experiences she’s had there really is no other way to achieve her goal – every other possibility requires her to take it on faith that ozma is willing the break from his task now, against all signs to the contrary. he is still openly promoting worship of the brothers and urging everyone to live as if the final judgment will come tomorrow while zealously guarding the relics needed to summon them – no reasonable person would conclude from ozpin’s public actions that he is, in any way, wavering from his task, and so it is wholly irrational to expect salem to just intuit that somehow. and if ozpin is, as he seems to be, more committed than ever and on the brink of summoning the brothers, war is in fact her only recourse.
what makes salem a villain in this story is the abusiveness toward her associates; her individual cruelty, far more than the war of last resort, because the cruelty has no justification. and i think rwby is interested in the tension here, between how long salem refused to fight back and how cruel she is on a personal level. the tenderness with which she speaks of humanity versus her violent resistance to letting herself care about any one specific person.
i think it’s easy to write the cruelty off as a simple matter of salem… not caring, not having any interest in caring – in extremes this is how we get the "spoiled bitch" reading – but the same could be said of ozma; he’s nicer about it but no less willing to use people as disposable tools. why does he lie? why does he manipulate? why does he get violent when his secrets are about to be exposed? you don’t treat people you care about that way.
so ozma has his reasons – the trauma and the cognitive dissonance and the self-hatred and learned helplessness that motivates his submission to the divine mandate, the palliative fairytales, the retreat into dissociation to cope with being forced to exist as a parasite, and so on – and so too does salem, it’s just that hers are made more opaque. what drives this woman who speaks so lovingly of human virtue to treat individual humans like garbage? some of it is sheer alienation – she hasn’t been allowed to participate in civilization in thousands of years, of course she is antisocial – and the trauma of ozma’s betrayal, the deeper trauma of collective punishment, the fear of being hurt again, the resignation to being seen as a monster no matter what she actually does…
which i expect will begin to rise to the surface over the last few volumes. but the point is i do think her villain -> hero arc will turn almost entirely on ending and atoning for the personal cruelty as opposed to the war, and in fact i imagine there may end up being a stretch of the story wherein salem has moved clearly into the ‘good’ camp (as in: made things right between herself and her remaining associates, cinder in particular, and her true end is known to the audience) and still actively in conflict with the vacuo coalition because Her Cause is just. and that’s the kind of complexity rwby is interested in.
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the-californicationist · 10 months ago
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he buys you jewelry
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The incessant whir of the tattoo gun was droning on as you watched Price’s freshly-shaved shoulder and back take on the sweeping artwork of a huge dragon. It had arching wings and a terrible snarl, and its long tongue breathed fire out onto his spine. You weren’t sure why he was getting a dragon, or what the symbolism was, but it was beautiful work. It fit his body perfectly. 
You’d been dating the soldier for about two months now, and he was very intense. He was apparently a captain of some sort of special forces group, but he hadn’t burdened you with the details. As you spoke with him and shared more things about yourself, he would leave little breadcrumbs about himself along the way, opening up slowly like a tight bud, blooming right in front of your eyes. 
His violent career was probably why he was taking this tattoo like it was a massage, chatting happily with you and his artist, Jana, totally unfazed by the repeated stabbing pain of the needles. Price was laid across the black chair, shirtless and hatless with his chest down and his back exposed to Jana. She was working away diligently, and you were in a prime location to drool over his body.
You’d been naked together already, and he was a damn fine lover, but his huge frame still made you hot, bothered, and unquenchably thirsty. You let your eyes drag over his hulking shoulders, gazing at the banded muscle in his back, his huge lats fanning out like wings, leading down to a trim but strong core. His skin was dusted with thick hair and a starfield of freckles. Old and new tattoos lay nestled around his body, telling a story you were slowly unfolding. John Price was gorgeous. 
“Mm,” he groaned, “Back of the arm is a bitch.”
“You need a break, John?” Jana asked him, “‘Cause I could use a smoke.”
“You bet,” Price smiled in agreement, letting her clean him up and wrap the skin to keep it safe. 
You handed him a bottle of water and grabbed an orange from your bag, following him to the back of the parlor. He dusted off a bench for you to sit with him, and he lit a tin cigar. You started to peel your orange, handing him a segment at a time, sharing it together as his smoke rolled out of his nose and mouth, spiraling up from the glowing embers. He offered it to you, and you took it.
The smoke was warm and filled your mouth, heating the sensitive skin of your cheeks. The tobacco and vanilla notes blended with the sweetness of the orange creating a pleasant taste, and it was satisfying to blow it away from you. More satisfying, however, was the indulgent expression on Price’s face when you did so, his bearded grin turning almost smug when you looked up at him to return his cigar. 
“Does it hurt?” You asked him, getting a peek at his dragon. It was nearly finished.
“It hurts in a good way, ya know? Pain…” he paused for a moment, thinking, his gaze focused on something far away, “Pain requires fear. If you can move past it, you can overcome it. I just try to find something I’d rather feel than fear.”
“What do you usually feel?” You asked, biting into another juicy slice of your orange. 
“Rage,” he smiled a little sadly, staring down at his hands, “I’m quick with my anger. Comes too easy for me, sometimes.”
“Do you feel rage now?” You probed further, handing him another shining lobe from the fruit.
He looked at you, brushing your hair over your ear gently, 
“No, love. Not rage. Something else, though.”
For a moment, his stark blue eyes drew you in, turning into pools of endless, cloudless sky. You thought he might kiss you. You might have a chance to taste the mixture of tobacco and orange in his mouth, feel his slick tongue slip against yours. You wanted to be pressured by his jaw to open up to him, to allow him to taste whatever he wanted to taste, to take whatever he wanted to take. 
“Hey, mate,” Jana poked her head around the corner, “You ready to finish up?”
“Yeah,” Price replied, his eyes not leaving yours, gripping you without using his hands. 
“Looks brilliant, Jans,” Price admired his dragon in the mirror, inspecting the fine details of its black scales, “You’re the best.” 
“You like it?” She smiled, admiring the work as well, pride shining on her face. 
“Yeah, I’m proper chuffed. Now it’s her turn,” he nodded over to you. 
“What?” You gaped, surprised at the sudden focus. 
He let Jana place the protective film over his tattoo and pulled his shirt back on, commenting,
“You wanted to get some work done, yeah?”
“Oh, right,” you said, remembering you’d told him how badly you wanted a tongue piercing since you were a teenager, “Not sure I have the funds, so -”
“No,” Price shook his head, “It’s on me, love. Whatever you want.”
“Really?” You couldn’t believe he would just drop money on you like it was nothing. Jana’s studio was one of those invite-only, get-on-a-waiting-list type of places. Very posh. This wasn’t going to be cheap.
 He nodded, fixing his shirt and sliding over to give you a chaste kiss, 
“Anything for you, sweet girl,” he grinned, lowering his voice, “You gonna pierce that pretty tongue for me to play with, hm?”
You could feel your cheeks grow hot from the way his comment made you feel, bellowing the fire that was growing in your core. You turned to Jana who was cleaning up her station,
“Are you able to do a tongue piercing today?”
She smiled, 
“For John’s girl? Anytime. Have a seat.”
She brought over some bars for you to choose from. You worried about how sensitive your skin was, but tried not to be picky. When you asked about hypoallergenic options, she brought out a whole tray, watching as you and Price perused the selections. 
“This one?” You pointed to a polymer style. It was bright fluorescent pink, and it almost glowed in the container. 
“Very safe. The PTFE will be the easiest to avoid infection,” Jana told you confidently. She really knew her craft. You watched as she prepped the needle, and you started to get nervous. 
Price noticed of course, and he reached out for your hand,
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you smiled up at him, grimacing a bit, admitting your nervousness. 
The captain reminded you, squeezing your hand, 
“Don’t think about the fear.”  
“What should I think about instead?”
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, and your heart froze in your chest as you listened to his words,
“I can’t stop thinking about how it’s going to make me feel when you lick my cock. I want you to rub it against my head, underneath, in that bloody spot that I like.”
“Ready?” Jana asked, interrupting your salacious thoughts. 
Price backed off, smirking with a proud look on his face, knowing he had made your blood run hot, straight to your belly. You nodded, giving her your tongue. You expected to be nervous again, but you weren’t. You were, however, extremely horny. 
Then, the clamp. A few seconds later, the sting. Your eyes wrenched shut, and Price squeezed your hand tighter. You opened them to look up at him, and his expression had darkened. He was staring into your mouth, looking at the piercing, obviously getting turned on by it. You watched him, sitting behind Jana, adjust himself in his pants, grasping at his growing shaft, trying to calm down. 
“All done,” Jana smiled, showing you a hand mirror, “and look - ”
She shined a blacklight over it, making it glow even brighter, 
“Pretty!” She exclaimed. 
She explained the aftercare, giving you plenty of products, and glaring at Price, making sure he followed the hygiene steps, too.
You left the shop sore, but you were distracted by the feeling of the wetness between your legs. John hugged you tightly before opening the passenger side door for you to climb into his car, 
“Poor darling, want to go for ice cream? Something to soothe that tongue?”
You nodded, looking at him expectantly, knowing he was still half-hard. His thickness made it impossible to miss. 
“Yeah, John, that sounds good.”
“After a few days, she said you’d be back to fighting shape, hm? I can’t wait.”
His laugh was dark and full of promise. He leaned over the center console to kiss your neck, and you felt like you might melt through the seat. He pulled out of the parking lot, and as the lights from the city glittered over his windshield, you held his hand, feeling like his precious pet, something to be cherished.
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