#I just want what they have; a fucking healthy marriage

[fvrtvne]

i'm not really sure why you rp isabela as avoidant to romance when she's clearly available to romance in game?

I'd have recommended coming off of anon so I could DM you about this privately, but no, you're choosing to waste my time with this ask.

Really? Really?

I need you to step back for a moment and ruminate on these questions ;

) Do you remember Dragon age 2?

) Did you just mindlessly mash through dialogue because hhrrrr pirate lady hot sexy hgghhdhghsouhhhh?

) Did you even play Dragon Age 2?

Look, I get it's hard to sit back and remember every piece of dialogue, but if you even remotely cared about Isabela as a character / actually cared enough about the game to listen to her dialogue then you'd understand that she does NOT want to be in a relationship when you first meet her.

Beyond maybe, idk, looking over her wiki, what vibes beyond finalizing your romance with her gave you the impression that she was going to throw her arms around you and run off into the sunset? Where in any of the story, even through bits of dialogue, does Isabela ever hint that she's ready to settle into a committed relationship?

Here, let me grab one of my favorite (not actually) excerpts from her wiki page; (which, btw, since we're here, google's free) ;

But Madam Hari grew disillusioned with the life of a fraud and eventually she converted to the Qun to give meaning to her life. She sold Isabela into marriage with a business associate of the Antivan Crows, Luis, when she refused to convert. While Isabela offers numerous interpretations of the bargain her mother struck when she was given away, she is noted as having told Varric Tethras once that her mother gave her away in exchange for nothing more than the promise that she would be looked after. Luis took her to Antiva City and they were married three weeks later, just shy of Isabela's nineteenth birthday.

Alright, cool, hoping you digested that, because I'm gonna go ahead and link this image that accompanies that entry.

Does this look like someone who's happy with the prospect of marriage? Does this look like someone who isn't traumatized by a decision made without her consent?

I know this bit was hidden behind comics for like maybe a month (year? idk) after it was published, but for fucks sake, it's been on something as accessible as wikipedia since (and i spent over 20 minutes scrolling) March 15th 2013.

Consider, maybe even momentarily, that Isabela perhaps doesn't want to relive that trauma, or perhaps doesn't even want to come close to feeling as trapped as she did when her mother had made a life-altering decision without a SHRED of concern for her daughters wellbeing.

Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, yeah?

She spends the next 8-10(ish) years of her life pretty much coping with this by never settling down, even in terms of location. Through her own dialogue, even being stuck in one place for too long is almost too much for her.

If that isn't enough, please, for the love of god, consider additional dialogue she provides in the game.

You know who shares a similar trauma to her? Fenris. You know who she has a healthy and casual relationship with because neither of them are looking for tied down commitment without some sincerity and legwork due to their similar feelings of helplessness? Fenris. You know what kind of blog you wouldn't send an ask like this to bc you're very clearly hung up on Isabela? Fenris.

Yeah, they fuck nasty, but even in the mission you do to even recruit her, Isabela proves time and time again (until you ofc complete her romance mission) that she's violently uninterested in a deeper connection beyond casually fucking. (In her own words; "it was just rutting".)

Sure, you can romance her and have a semblance of some kind of relationship with her, but you, as Hawke, (provided you're romancing her), spend SEVEN TO EIGHT YEARS building foundations of TRUST and COMFORT to prove to her that you're capable of not only understanding her past, but helping her through it. You're proving that YOU can stand beside her when shit goes south, and that you're not going to prevent any attempt she makes to claw toward her own self liberation.

I've been writing Isabela for close to 12 years now, and I know the ins and outs of her character better than I know half of my college coursework.

Anyhow, replay Dragon Age 2, learn to use google (it's free! as a reminder!), and maybe order yourself a size 24 loafer to match your clown-car? Idk. Hold this for me.

[nicoscheer]

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- Sunta: What are each other's bad habits?

Alex & Miles: [laughing, doing That Voice] Ooooh!

Miles: Sometimes . . .

Alex: He's very bad with the recycling.

Miles: Ooh I am very bad with recycling! He'll often say "what are you doing?" He will take out . . .

Alex: It's [they descend into chaos, speaking over each other]

Miles: I put it in the wrong bin, he will pull it out and rinse it under the sink and look at me with a vicious stare! Don't you?

Alex: I do mmm, yeah.

Miles: You do don't you, I'm terrible!

Alex: "Miles you've left the lentils in it and you've put it in the wrong bin!"

Miles: Yes!

Sunta: What about Alex's bad habits?

Miles: Oooh erm . . . [laughs]

[Awkward silence]

Miles: I'm not quick enough right now, sorry.

Sunta: You need that coffee!

Miles: I was erm, still thinking about the rinse . . .

[Sunta wisely moves on to the next question, and we can only speculate as to Alex's bad habits]

Via Radio X 2016

- “the wolf was in me that morning” (Miles) via Radio X (around minute 6) and Alex saying “well I’m Alex and I play the awoo” (wolf sound) during the WBRU interview

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- Owen Pallett quite accurately described working with the duo as “like watching a buddy cop movie". Q brings up an old interview where they describe their writing process as sitting with acoustic guitars “knee to knee” and they break into whooping hysterics.

“Did we say knee to knee!? Wow,” marvels Kane.

How do they write now?

{Together}: “Shoulder to shoulder.”

Turner: “Cheek to cheek.”

Kane: “Chin to chin.”

Turner: “Tongue to ear.” Via Q Magazine

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Via Absolute Radio

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- “We just wrote the lyrics for that together - and it came about when he was on tour and I was in his flat, and he phoned me and I was like: “Oh, I’ve got this new idea and it’s in F sharp and it’s the riff in ‘Telepathy’.” He was like: “Well, I’m phoning you to tell you about my new idea and it’s in F sharp!” And he played it over the phone and it fit together. That’s just a beautiful thing that me and Alex have. It’s a strange connection, but beautiful.” (Miles about working with Alex on Telepathy)

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Via Magicrpm

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- “I’ll tell you who I love Paris. Almost as much as I love you. Mr Miles Kane” (Alex) X

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- “All aboard the Kane train.” (Alex) via Lowlands 2016 (around 21:57)

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- “Here he is, he looks better in your leather jacket than you do, it’s Miles Kane everybody!” (Alex) 31.01.2012 505 at Casino de Paris

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- “Miles has an ability to make me laugh. Like no one else I know, really. And that was something that I realized very quickly. Like, he makes me laugh from a place that I didn’t realize was there. I know some pretty funny people, I’m lucky like that. But Miles has the ability, with one syllable, to make an entire room lose it” (Alex)

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- “The next song is called ”My Fantasy”… I’d like to dedicate it to my Alex Turner!” Miles at a gig

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- “We are a pair of free spirits. I always wanted to get out and explore, and Miles as well’, concludes Turner, and turns his head toward his friend with a smile, 'If I can speak for both, darling” (Alex) via El PAÍS

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- “The ones where we’re singing together and there’s two harmonies, it’s just trying it out and seeing who goes on top? (laughs) So you try it out and see which way it sounds better.” (Alex) via Will Oliver

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- Alex: We rode a bicycle one Saturday afternoon right at the end of it [recording TAOTU] ] and properly got freaked out. We rode a bike like a mile.

Miles: We had our tops off as well! (both laugh)

Alex: I wasn’t going to say that.

Miles: And shorts! Shorts, tops off, full of cake! Via NME Feb 2008 (first interview together)

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Old married couple like Alex is mad at him but still carries his stuff cause Miles asks him to

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- “I said, ‘I’m gonna go and play ‘Town Called Malice’ over at the Fonda with Paul Weller’,” beams Kane. “’You don’t mind, do you? I’ll come in early tomorrow.’”

“I said, ‘Where the hell are you going?’” Turner says. “’We’ve not finished yet!’

Turner then affects a hard-done-by house-husband tone.

“I said, ’Oh, don’t worry about it: I’ll just be here.’” Via Hamish MacBain

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- “The monkeys used to shut everybody out, not just journalists, but everybody. And it’s not the right way to be. Miles helped me open up.” (Alex)

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- “This time we were trying to use the little finger more” (Miles) via Will Oliver

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-"And also working with Miles, it comes very much from my heart. You know, with such a close friendship we have. Wanting to work together, it brings something else. I haven’t done too much with other people… he’s kind of the only one.” (Alex) via Olaf Tyaransen

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Tlsp at The Fillmore Detroit, 26 July 2016

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via in conversation with Miles Kane

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Alex also saying they`re like yin and yang via tlsp interview la musciale

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Pushing each other into strange corners- Alex via tlsp interview la musciale

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one of the cutest things Miles has called Alex is 'the boy' it's so beautiful bc someone asked him on Twitter what he was up to and he just said he was 'going out with the boy'. which boy? it didn't need saying. everyone knows who The Boy in Miles' life is.

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Milex quotes (ranging from unhinged to batshit crazy while taking a detour through wtf land)

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- first impressions: “What is this puny spotty kid with his little brown bag ?” (Miles about Alex) “Who’s that jester who makes me laugh so hard as soon as he opens his mouth ?” (Alex about Miles). Via Les Inrocks arcticle

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- “I tell him I love him all the time,” via NME (Miles)

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- “I love you because you’ve got a very strong pain threshold.” Via NME (Miles)

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- since when are you both that close ? “You want to know if we’re going to get married ? If we have sex like real men, between the buttocks ?” Via Les Inrocks article

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- “For kids from the North, it's hard to say but we never stop telling each other that we love each other. Alex knows I'll always be there for him. (How do our girlfriends deal with that? Are they jealous? Maybe we should ask them).” (Miles) Via Les Inrocks article

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- “There is no embarrassment, no taboo, no limits between us. It's a real trade, we reroute each other's ideas. In the end, it's impossible to quantify the contribution of the two of us. Our complementarity sometimes freaks me out.” (Alex) via Les Inrocks article

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- MK: Totally, to me it’s even the best vocal take of his entire career! (He cuddles him.) AT: Thank you, my dear. (Note: here it says “mon lapin”, which can mean “my dear” but literally translates to “my bunny”) via MyRock Magazine

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- AT: Ah yeah, that’s how it is with my Miles! I start a joke and he’ll finish it! (he pounces on Miles and catches him in an armlock on the settee, before giving his crotch a light slap and shouting “Here comes the nuts!”) You wanna see how close we are as friends, Miles and I? Here, look, a spectacle exclusively for you! (At this point, we move up another notch in this madness: Alex swoops for a bowl of cashew nuts and starts to frenetically toss them at Miles, who tries to catch them with his mouth… after a fashion. Via MyRock Magazine

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- “Alex is so dedicated to song writing, it’s inspiring to be around. He’s a beautiful soul and I’m honoured to witness him and the band grow. His left ears going to be burning when he hears this…” (Miles) via GQ magazine October 2013

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X

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- “Alex Turner is a genius, isn’t he? He’s a genius fish.” (Miles) via Knack Focus

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- “Sometimes we have Skype-sex, or we wank off on FaceTime!” (Miles) via Index

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- “We've been through a lot together. It's like, he's one of those friends, those few best friends you have in life. As you grow older, your circle tends to shrink, but he's remained one of my closest pals. It's almost like a bit of yin and yang between us.” (Miles) via Numéro

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- Alex turns to Miles and propositions him: “Your place or mine, then?” There’s no-one expect us and the road-crew there to see it, but it feels like a special moment nonetheless. Via NME

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- “I think we can bring the best out in each other, you know? He certainly does that with me.” (Miles) Via Eska Rock

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- “Why, yes, bromances are for sharing your dreams. What a wonderful sentiment.” (Miles) via Interview Magazine

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- AT: Miles is, without a doubt, Wolverine. Wolverine is a style icon to him. I see similarities. Miles always follows his instinct. And he’s capable of fixing things that are broken, whether it’s material or emotional damage, in no time. MK: Alex often reminds me of Gambit. He can change something insignificant into something explosive. He’s very aware of everything that happens around him, something that balances him out. And he can read my mind. Via OOR Magazine 2016

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- “We understand each other and keep each other going. We both have strange ideas and we need the presence of the other to make sense of them.” (Miles) Via OOR Magazine 2016

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- “Sometimes it can be a pressure being the fella in the band who writes the songs. Getting together with Miles I've got someone to bounce ideas off and that is something new for me. Also, it gives me somewhere to hide because he's up there singing with me. In the Arctic Monkeys, there's nowhere for me to hide.” (Alex) via Culture

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- “My best mate. I love him, man. I like the way he pushes himself and keeps that thing of, whatever's going on around you, you're just a lad who loves playing music and writing tunes. He's a prime example of someone who's big but doesn't take anything for granted.” (Miles)

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- “I decipher his thoughts and organise them. When Miles bursts, the idea comes flying. Someone who knows him well enough might be able to filter out the good ideas. But usually, he only has good ideas and it’s up to me to catch everything. That’s my job within this duo. That process releases all kinds of stuff within me, causing me to go into certain directions I would never take my own.” (Alex)

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- “I thought it were going to be like them finding a tape where you’d had an affair,” he grins. “Like your bird had found an affair tape and was watching you having sex with another bird… but it weren’t like… an affair tape… erm, not that I’ve ever made an affair tape.” Alex Turner about the Monkeys’ reaction to The Last Shadow Puppets’ album via NME

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- “And also working with Miles, it comes very much from my heart. You know, with such a close friendship we have. Wanting to work together, it brings something else. I haven’t done too much with other people… he’s kind of the only one.” (Alex) via Hot Press

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- MK: And he can read my mind. AT: But you can read mine, too. MK: I knew you were gonna say that. AT: And I knew you were gonna say that. via OOR Magazine 2016

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- “Even if we aren't writing half a word is enough. We can finish each other's sentences sometimes and if we focus on it, we can take it to a much deeper level. That's pretty unique. My thinking process is pretty abstract and a lot of people don't know what to do with that. Alex understands me like no other.” (Miles) via OOR Magazine 2016

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- you’re living in Los Angeles too now, miles? “…because Alex lives there…” (Miles) via Humo

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- “He has written a lot of songs – a lyrical wonder, this boy!” (Miles) via Humo

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- The pair live, Turner says, “seven minutes away from each other”. Ask them what a typical night out entails, and they look at each other, then proceed to not be very forthcoming, though Turner will eventually concede that “some of what happens in those situations is disclosed, through the veil of song, on the record. There’s references.” Via Shortlist

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- “Starin’ out the balcony at the moon, wonderin’ where is he, what is he doin’ now, who’s he kissin’” (Alex) via Sidewalk Hustle

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X

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X

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- “… but this thing we had together… I know that I was the new kid and he was a sort of superstar, but even from day one, it was amazing. To an outsider, it wouldn’t look equal, but it was always so equal. He made me feel like that, just because it was.” (Miles)

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- “We take it in turns playing the straight man.” (Alex) via Shortlist

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- “Quite cute ! Quite and quite camp, you mean ?” (Miles about their relationship) via NME

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- On what it’s like to work with Kane again, Turner said: “It’s like John Lennon meets… Paul [McCartney].” Via NME

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- Miles says their relationship was established “on laughter and general stupidness” via the Telegraph

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- Interviewer: Alex, what does Miles bring out in you that…. Alex: A woman can’t bring out in me?

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- Miles and his endearments for Alex:

“We always talk about it, me and the boy, y'know?”

"He's got the face for it...the little diamond."

"The Little Prince" x

“Shavambacu” at 4:01

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X

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- “He (Alex) turned up one day in red jeans. That surprised me. I like it when he wears red jeans. When they’re tight.”

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- “There's nothing innocent about Miles Kane,”Turner warns, in case anyone was planning to accuse him of luring his fresh-faced co-conspirator into a decadent world of rock star self-indulgence. “He is the antithesis of innocence.” “Ooh,” Kane retorts, archly, “you scampi fry.” Via the Guardian

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- “We went for a bike ride. Tops off. Fred Perry shorts on.” (Alex about their time recording the age of the understatement in rural France Blackbox studio) via Q Magazine 2008

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- You look like you're about to snog each other. AT: “It’s rare that we don’t look like that.” Tlsp at the Mercury music Prize 2008

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- “As far as I’m concerned there are only two superstars: Beyoncé and Miles Kane. You can quote me on that.” (Alex)

[corvid-ghost]

It's such whiplash from going from my corner of tumblr to tiktok when it comes to odysseus

Like here (in my corner idk about the rest) its pretty common knowledge that what happened to odysseus was sa, and most of the stuff abiut him are based off of the Iliad or Odyssey (or epic) and yk people know what they're talking about

And then

Then I go tiktok and it's all "odysseus is cheating scum! Circe, Calypso, and Penelope deserved better! He did them dirty! And achilles and patroclus! Terrible person! Bad! They're the victims!"

Which wild take but ok

[arrowpunk]

You know it kind of sucks to see discourse about whether or not me and people like me should exist. Like just the fact that it's even a question in the first place sucks.

[slippery-minghus]

oughoughoughhh maybe i'm just not in the right headspace to be reading it right now but the "the beginnings of self-definition" chapter of susan forward's toxic parents book is fuuuuucking me up

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

[skzdarlings]

the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

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“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 

Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds. 

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 

He politely rejected you at every turn. 

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 

You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 

He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   

You held your breath. 

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    

“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 

“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 

This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 

You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 

He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 

“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband. 

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 

You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?

 My wife.  

“Yes,” he finally said. 

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 

Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 

He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 

Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 

“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   

It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 

You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 

You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 

There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied. 

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  

“Please,” you said. 

He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 

 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 

You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 

Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 

It is true, you do not like violence. 

That does not mean you do not understand it. 

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 

Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 

Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 

He looks nowhere but your eyes. 

“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 

“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says. 

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        

You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. 

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 

“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 

“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 

You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  

This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 

“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 

Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 

“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 

[martian-astro10]

Astrology observations - Part 3 (use whole signs)

🎀 For a lot of people with moon in 7th house, their mother had a huge impact on their personality (in a good or bad way). They'll either admire her a lot and try to be more like her or, do their best to not be like her. Their mother usually has a lot of say in who they marry. If the ascendant lord is not strong, then these people completely change after marriage and start to behave in a way in which their spouse would like them to.

🐈‍⬛Saturn in 9th house people can be really good when it comes to their career, they end up getting promoted earlier than others, but I've noticed that they prefer to work alone. It's like, they create something, but they would like someone else to market and sell it since communication is not their strong suit. Can be very introverted, not the best at taking initiatives, are very prone to undermining themselves.

🎀 moon in 11th house people have a really good relationship with their kids (unless it's debilitated). It doesn't matter if you're a guy or a girl, it's the same for both. They're the parents who have a very "chill" relationship with their kids, their kids trust them a lot, treat them as a friend. All my friends who have a great and healthy relationship with their parents, 85% of those parents had moon in 11th.

🐈‍⬛ Mars in 5th house people have such an "interesting" dating life; love triangles, friends with benefits, they've (or will) experienced it all. The people to say "it's complicated" when you ask them about their love life. But I've also seen that these people are very accepting of other people's dating preferences, this is one of the things that I really admire about them, this can result in them having a very diverse group of friends.

🎀 Jupiter aspecting ascendant/midheaven is one of the best placements that you could possibly have. I was going through celebrities' charts and I noticed that the ones who were exceptionally popular or rich had this like 90% of the time. With opposition and square it can indicate that people hate you at first, but then some info comes out and suddenly everyone loves you, but you gotta go through the hate first. Conjunction can go either way depending on the sign.

🐈‍⬛ Saturn in 4th house women have my full respect, like, these people go through so much shit in their life and yet they're so hardworking and never give up. Their mother was probably their worst enemy growing up. If you know someone who has this, give them a hug, they're carrying so much burden, and yet they never show it. You'll never hear these people complaining about life, have a very, "it's okay, problems come and go, you can't be sad all the time" mentality.

🎀 Sun in 1st house people make me so angry, I don't get along with them. They have such a shitty personality, and always wanna fight for absolutely no reason. Start a beef out of nowhere, but they are so fucking good at their job, that's actually what makes me hate them more. My class representative has this, and she's such a bitch, but she's so responsible, it breaks my fucking heart, can't even complain 😔

🐈‍⬛ Mercury in 11th house people have unmatched Rizz, will charm the pants off you (unless it's debilitated). I'm so jealous of people who have this. I know people with this, who are not conventionally attractive but their charm is what makes people like them. I never knew what it meant to be attracted to someone's personality until I met someone who had this. (I know this sounds like a backhanded compliment, but it's really not)

🎀 I have never in my life met a moon in 8th house person who was like....okay. these people will have a mental breakdown almost every week. Can't take criticism AT ALL. I have seen that people with this have a tendency to date whoever they see once they break up, just to show their ex how "wanted" they are, and it's not healthy because a lot of their hook ups have bad intentions. Have a habit of playing the victim "everyone bullies me 🥺" "I have the hardest life" and blah blah. On a positive note, they can handle fame really well because of their ability to manipulate people, once you get in their trap and start liking them, you'll never be able to hate them.

🐈‍⬛ I never see people talking about how smart Venus in 3rd house people are. I'm always so amazed by the way they carry conversations. A lot of women who have won beauty paegents have this because of how nice their answers were. A lot of young politicians have this as well. Their juniors often look up to them.

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you

♔ Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, mentions of disordered eating of the reader and past emotional abuse, Satoru doesn't really help how he should but his dumbass tries, heavy angst, jealousy, smacking, Duke Gojo is becoming pathetic, lots of begging, heartfelt chap, cunnilingus, fingering, toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic. OOC. ANGST. SO MUCH TENSION.

♔ Word count this chap: 9.7k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

(taglist open/Comments/ reblogs always appreciated 🥰

Part Five - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Six- Dinner is just a Masquerade

Satoru sits right across from you, glaring as you sit there in your chair, sipping on black coffee from a delicate china, and not touching your plate. You do eat of course, but you refuse to do so in front of him, even after he’d said it was false, you were too nervous. You’d always been a peckish little eater, and your parents praised that, so many people praised your impeccable manners at the table.

Your arms rest just so on the edge of the table, your pinky sits up so high as you take a sip, you know just how many times to chew to seem as if you’re enjoying a dish. You know all the etiquette, and you know how to keep from gaining weight, or to quickly slim if you catch the slightest ounce, you know how to keep healthy enough without looking overly indulgent.

For once, you’d just enjoyed a damn dish, you figured you did not need to impress Duke Gojo, after all he said he’d never want you. But the comment had triggered something you don’t quite like. Aside from Nanami stuffing your mouth full of delicious cookies, you’ve not eaten too much, it’s almost like a control you feel you need, but you must admit, you’re starving right now.

You have fluffy scones, tea and biscuits, and you’re just sipping this coffee, hoping it eases your throat. Duke Gojo slams his hands on the table then, picking up a scone and striding to you, yanks you by your hair. You gasp at the sensation, smacking at his big, stupid hands as he bends low over you.

“Get your damn hands off me.” You bite out, grabbing at his strong wrists and pulling at them, digging your long nails in his skin.

“You’ll fucking eat something, goddamn brat. Open your mouth.” He bends low and you grit your teeth, brows low as you scowl right back at his pretty face, as he’s trying to shove a scone in your mouth.

“Excuse me- ah!” He’s shoved it now, shoving your mouth closed by your jaw, and you’re forced to chew the sweet thing. He leans close to you, thumb brushing against your lower lip, staring at you with swirling blue eyes, so intense you shut your own, chewing it slowly.

You swallow it down, only for him to open your mouth more gently, and it does something to your tummy you hate, this feeling, it’s not butterflies like Nanami, no it’s brutal moths flying violently, and you detest it. You detest that you take another bite of scone for him, finishing it, licking your lower lip and sucking in a breath, your eyes locked on him.

“I should have never said that.” He sits on the table, most casual for him as he’s typically as formal as can be, his thighs spread far too wide and making you remember seeing him. You blush furiously, sipping your coffee then carefully.

“I have forgiven you, Duke. I am not much of an eater anyway.”

“It’s what I said, and I know it’s why you’re wasting away.” He grabs your wrist, wrapping his hand around it gently, an odd sensation and it feels so intense from what you’re used to.

“I’m still a healthy size-”

“For now. Please fucking eat. I know I’m horrible, I know you hate me, I know you owe me no kindness…” You hear his usually cruel voice break, and you struggle to keep your breaths steady, as he caresses your jaw in a way he shouldn’t. “Just don’t let me be the cause of this.”

“Why do you care? You’re so bloody confusing.” You pop another one in your mouth though, and watch his exhale in relief, running a hand through his silky white hair, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I wanted you to hate me, not hurt yourself.” You blink, looking up again.

“Well, you succeeded in me hating you.” You finish chewing and dab your mouth with the handkerchief, an action Satoru’s insane eyes follow.

“I know I did. I will not make a comment again about this however, you have my word. I am… I am sorry.” You feel the sincerity, and though you still hate him, you decide to finally let this go. If this was as good as anything would get with the infuriating, cold Duke.

“Well, thank you, Duke Gojo.” You sip more coffee, as he hops off the table, and your heart thuds in your chest, throat feeling tight again.

“I actually like women with more meat on their bones. You see my mistresses, it was just… I honestly didn’t think you’d believe me.” His voice is strained as he sits back down next to you, nibbling on his own food now slowly, and you sigh, leaning back a bit in your seat, not your typical straight stature.

“I am confident in ways but I have always watched how I look. Making sure to look perfect. It’s what I am praised for, it’s my worth, how well I am wedded. To marry a Duke made my family proud of me, and that is all my worth is, appearance, posture, how I act, how I laugh… how I eat. All of it. A woman has nothing else truly.”

Duke Gojo sips his sweet tea with milk, contemplating you carefully. What were you doing, opening up to this man? Stupid.

“I assumed you were highly confident, that you would know you’re nothing close to a ‘pig’ in how you eat.”

Your hands run along the edge of your little ceramic cup, touching the handle and studying him, tilting your head. “So why say it, then? To make me hate you?”

“Yes.”

Huh.

“May I know why?”

“No.”

There it is, the confusion, the haughty look on his face you want to punch right off of him. He’s clearly done with whatever tiny vulnerability he’s shown, and likely done affording you any kindness. You sigh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “And I still disgust you?”

He clears his throat, pulling at his collar, stiffening in his seat. “Don’t I disgust you, Duchess?”

You bite your lower lip, nodding. “You have lay with four women since I’ve known you, covered in their rouge, their perfume, their lip stains. Indeed, I do not find that attractive. But as for your looks, of course you are handsome.” His eyes widen, full lips parting for a moment.

“I’m handsome to you?”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re extremely handsome outwardly, on the inside is quite another story, Duke. But you already know that.”

He sips his tea once more, just a hint of color on his cheeks. “Well you have not said so.”

“You want me to? You hate me.”

He looks away. “Yes, I do.”

You sigh then. “This conversation grows tiresome-”

“You’re attractive outwardly as well, very, very attractive. You disgust me because… of other reasons than your beauty.” His soft words are barely a whisper, especially at the end.

Now your cheeks flush, but you just sigh. “Oh, so you were not serious when you said-”

“No, I should not have said that either. Now you disgust me because you spread your legs wide for that man.” His fists clench, you stand then, shaking your head.

“What care you? Your cock in another woman every night.” Gojo stands now, stepping right in front of you.

“And was his cock in you, like a whore?” You smack him then, right across his face, and he scowls now, grabbing your wrist, bending low over you. “You’re the most insolent brat I’ve met.”

“And you’re the most stupid, cruel man I’ve ever met. I will not answer your stupid question. I ask not what you do.”

“Well you’re the innocent one here, or you were.”

“What do you care? My innocence isn’t yours to take. I’d never give it to you.” You whisper, and he grabs your waist then, pulling you flush against him, eyes darting to your lips.

“You act as if you do not want me, when I touch you, your body tells another story.” His voice is dangerously soft as he runs his fingers down your skin, where it’s bare on your shoulders, you shiver, your nipples tightening involuntarily. You can’t stand your stupid body.

“And you beg to touch me, don’t you Gojo?” His eyes narrow, long white lashes over his gaze now at your soft words. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Just because you taste good doesn’t mean I… you know what? Fuck you, Duchess.”

“Fuck you, Duke. Are the formalities in order for our daily battle? Do you enjoy them so, Duke?” Your free hand slides down his abdomen, watching him suck in a breath, feeling his muscles tense. “Enjoy touching me? Enjoy tasting me? Do you hate that I let someone else?”

You watch his jaw clench, watch him gulp, as his grip on you tightens just so. “It’s disgusting that you do. You’re so desperate, so pathetic, to jump in someone’s arms so quickly. You know you are.” His voice is hoarse, however, strained, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

You laugh softly, giving him a mean smile. “So what does that make you, the man who jumps in any woman’s arms? So fucking desperate anyone will do?”

Satoru grabs your face then, squishing your cheeks as he leans even lower, and you hate your body’s reaction again, you hate everything about him. “What do you care who I lay with then, hmm? Jealous of them?”

“Ha, no… I wouldn’t touch you, lord knows where you’ve been? You wish.”

He snorts. “I do not wish.”

You raise a brow. “Mmm, indeed.”

“Eat one more, wife, since you wish to please your husband, don’t you? The perfect little fucking wife.” You scowl again, popping one more, noticing the pleased smile.

“Only because I am hungry.” You speak after you chew, and he exhales, letting your wrist go, caressing your cheek softly, you hate it, but find that your eyes are fluttering shut.

“Good. Prepare today, we have that dinner with our parents.”

“I’ll be the picture of fake wedded bliss.” You smile sweetly, and he shakes his head, why won’t he let your damn waist go!?

“You sure do know how to pretend. We don’t want them knowing the truth, that we hate each other, hmm?”

“Indeed, I can absolutely pretend. Watch.” You take his hand, batting your long lashes and smiling sweetly, leaning up and pecking a kiss on his cheek, watching the blush decorate the shameless man’s face. “Oh Mama, Papa, I’m ever so happy as Duke Gojo’s wife.”

“Bitch.” He huffs, and you pull back and curtsey.

“I know, perfect performance, hmm?”

“No, you’d be calling me Satoru by now. If I wanted to, I’d have you screaming out ‘Satoru’.” His husky whisper is against your lips as he brushes the backs of his knuckles down your collarbone. You fall into that infinite pool that are Gojo’s eyes, for just a moment, before righting yourself.

“I only scream ‘Satoru’ when he pees on the floor.” You coo, yanking back from him just a step, and earning his furious scowl.

“You’re such a bitch. Imagine if I were the type of husband to take what’s mine, to keep you locked up like some pretty bird in a cage. Ever been happy I don’t?”

“I’m very happy you don’t fuck me. It will be so fun to fuck him-”

Gojo grabs you by the throat then, squeezing just so, and you just laugh as he bends down low. “You’re such a stupid whore.”

“I’m learning from the best.” You whisper out, nails digging into his wrist, but something about how he squeezes, how his other hand slides up your rib cage, makes you…

Wet.

Something’s so wrong with you!?

He releases you, leaning down again, and you hold him at a distance, his blue stormy eyes dilated now. “I should occupy your mouth with other things.”

“I wouldn’t suck you, who knows where that cock has been-”

“You know what that is!?” He demands, tips of his ears red.

You clear your throat, looking down and stepping back, as Satoru is furious. “It’s none of your-”

“You sucked a man off like some-”

“Like how I saw a girl suck you. Mmhmm.” You say then, defiant, raising your eyes back to his, looking at him under your lashes. Gojo grabs you again, and you smack him again, in this stupid fucking dance you both do.

“Did you really?”

“You mad it wasn’t you?” He opens his mouth, those pink lush lips wide, as if he’s at a loss for words. “Maybe I’ll ask your women for tips, you know, for next time.”

He laughs harshly, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, exasperated clearly. “Ask my mistresses for tips on sucking cock?”

“Mmm, indeed. I’m not sure if I did the best as my first time. But you know, he enjoyed it clearly, he… well you know.” 

“You’re such an evil little bitch.” You just smile as he chokes you once more, you feel him holding back, you know he wants to crush your windpipe, but the soft pressure is thrilling. “So you’re just swallowing cum then?”

“Why not? Don’t they swallow, Gojo?” He says nothing, as he’s panting, as you’re whispering through the squeeze of your throat.

“You wouldn’t be able to talk if I fucked your mouth, that’s the difference, wouldn’t be able to swallow anything for days without remembering my cock fucking your little throat.” His words shoot straight to your cunt, and it’s like he knows, as he grips your skirts tightly into a fist.

“I’d never suck you.” You say then, earning a tighter squeeze before he releases you, furious now. “You won’t be any of my firsts, I don’t even count our kiss.” You cough then, rubbing your throat, and Gojo’s fury just grows, as does his despair, as his eyes look so… sad then.

You don’t care.

Gojo deserves this and worse.

You don’t care when he storms away without a fucking word, and you don’t care when he says nothing to you even in that carriage ride to your parents home, where Gojo’s Mama and step dad would be. You don’t care how his thighs are spread, one pressed against yours, how you feel the heat of him against your skin through those layers of satin.

What do you care if he’s upset?

The carriage ride to your parents' home is tense, the silence thick with tension, as Satoru Gojo sulks like a damn child. He keeps peeking at you, before glaring and staring back out the carriage window, fuming. You sit rigidly, your heart racing from the altercation in the dining room, you can still feel his hand on your throat, and you wish you hated it more.

The soft rocking of the carriage and the rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves against the cobblestone streets are the only sounds that fill the space in the tense quarters. You hate that his scent fill the air between you, a mix of sandalwood and something sweet, fuck does this stupid man need to smell so good!?

You focus on the passing scenery outside the window, you should take this as a good thing, Satoru Gojo finally shutting the fuck up. Right? How often have you gotten him to-

“Bet you were wet.”

What!?

You look to him incredulously, mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“When I choked that pretty throat of yours.” His ankle is crossed over his knee, he’s resting his chin on his hand, smirking now.

“I was certainly not, damned brute!”

“No, not a bit? You looked like you liked it. Wonder how freaky your baker really gets, could he handle you?”

“Stupid fucking man.” You shove at his arm now, maybe you should have enjoyed that silence. “You presume too much, your Grace.”

“Felt you twice, soaked.” His voice drips with sex, as drippy as he had your little pussy, but you'll not say it out loud. Fuck Duke Gojo.

“Wasn’t you who did it.”

“Lying little bitch.”

“Conceited dick!”

As the carriage draws to a halt in front of your parents' grand estate, you both are glaring at each other, and he’s too close, he’s too close. You want to punch him if not for being at your parents’, and them seeing your ‘husband’ with a giant bruise on his face. Your fingers itch badly to, but soon one of the attendants was opening the carriage door, and Satoru steps out.

He holds his hand out then, and you ignore it, choosing to step down instead, holding your skirts up, nearly tripping as your legs aren’t quite long enough with your flouncy skirts. Then Satoru’s hand catches you by your bare upper arm, and it sends a jolt through your body, a reminder of his earlier touch, and you immediately pull away, smoothing your skirts as if to wipe away the sensation.

“Wanted to land on your face, brat?” He demands through gritted teeth, earning your glare up at him.

“Face planting is preferable to your touch.” He scoffs, walking ahead of you, and you struggle to compose yourself, hating everything about this man.

Perfect.

Composed.

You can do this. You can’t let Satoru see his stupid effects on you anymore than he already has.

Once seated at the long, elegantly set dinner table, the weight of your parents' expectations press down on you. Satoru sits next to you, and instead of being perfect and composed, he seemed on the very edge, fury just radiating. You wonder at him, why was he mad you did the same thing he did? He’s confusing, he’s stupid, he’s bloody infuriating.

You wish you were instead baking with Mr. Nanami, not forcing smiles in this masquerade of an affair next to London’s biggest asshole. Let him ruin the sham of marriage you think, perhaps it will end it all sooner… Though you know in your heart your parents will not let this go, they would simply force you to stay, as would Gojo’s mother.

Gojo’s stepfather looks bored, he and Gojo do not even acknowledge each other, which you find somewhat curious as you pick at your food, the rich aromas of roast beef and steamed vegetables doing little to quell the nervousness in your stomach. You make yourself eat some, noticing Gojo’s relief next to you.

Why does he suddenly care?

The room is lit by several candles, along with a beautiful chandelier overhead, casting flickering shadows across the polished silverware and crystal glasses. Your parents manor was one of the most grand aside from royalty, which of course you were now, but the beauty is hard to rival. If your parents liked one thing, it was opulence, it was being the top of society.

It doesn’t feel much like a home truly. You did not have a bad childhood, no indeed you are very lucky, your parents let you ride horses, play outside, cook in the kitchens. The only pressures you faced were preparing to be a good wife, to be the most perfect, and even though you’ve ‘accomplished’ it, the weight of their gazes and their expectations drowns you still.

The sound of forks and knives clinking against porcelain plates fills the air, punctuated by the occasional forced laughter, along with perfunctory conversation, until they get to what they really wanted to talk about. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as your mother looks at you both.

“So, are we trying for an heir?” You sputter, and Gojo smirks then, looking down at you and raising a brow.

“We have been actively trying, haven’t we, my love.” You grit your teeth at his stupid words, sure he’s playing a game but you hate them.

“Indeed, we have been trying most… fervently, sweet Satoru.” He gulps audibly on the sweet wine he’s drinking, raising brows at the use of his name.

“I’m most pleased to hear this. We had our worries.” Your mother says, and Gojo’s mom smiles.

“I also had my worries. But I can see the sparks between you both.” You stifle a rude laugh, but Gojo snorts, earning a subtle stomp on his foot, and a glare from him, to which you just smile brightly, batting your lashes at him.

“Indeed, I see them as well. Young and in love.” Your dad says, winking at you both, and you literally can barely stop yourself from snorting, instead shoving food into your mouth, and you notice your parents shock, brows raised.

“Eat like that so often and you won’t keep that perfect little waist, darling.” Your mom’s words make your fork clatter then, and you clear your suddenly tight throat, feeling your eyes prick with tears.

“She barely eats, like a damned bird, she has an appetite from us riding horses earlier is all.” Satoru says then, and you look at him in shock, as he’s… is Satoru… defending you?

“Of course, she also must eat well to have a baby you know.” Satoru’s mom says softly, and your mother smiles a bit, nodding, as her crushing words hit an already fragile part of you.

“Indeed, but your husband married you a certain way, you know.” She quips then, and your chest heaves with labored breaths, as you sip on your drink, and you feel Satoru’s hand then, under the cover of the heavy damask tablecloth, on your thigh, not sexual either it’s…

Supportive?

“I assure you she could stand to eat more, she’s rather petite. I enjoy a woman who eats.” He says, and his touch is light, almost imperceptible, but it sends a shiver up your spine, as he speaks so bravely for you, on something he himself had said. He now looks to you, and you see it, pain in his eyes that's reflected from yours.

Understanding.

“You’re not the same size, are you, when you married?” Satoru’s mom quips to your mom, and she gasps, you and Satoru hold in your chuckles just barely.

“Well, I… I’m older and had a babe! We can’t all stay your size, Lady Gojo.”

“Leave her alone, she’s just hungry.” Your dad says, and you sigh a bit as your mother finally relents. You can’t eat another bite, as she picks you apart.

“You look pale. That’s not well. You should have more color.” She says now, and you can’t stand another moment, wanting to throw back your wine.

“She’s been in the bed chambers so much, Mama.” Satoru quips, and soon everyone laughs at his remark, and once again, he squeezes your thigh, giving you a small smile.

“Why are you being nice?” You whisper, leaning to his ear, as a loving couple would do, and you inhale his scent, you feel the heat of his palm over your skirts.

“Because your mom’s a bitch.” You giggle a bit, looking up and seeing a different side of him, his smirk… charming and not cruel. You try to remind yourself he’s horrible, and you will remember that later, but for a brief moment you’re content to enjoy him.

“They’ll definitely be making babies.” Satoru’s mom says, and she looks to Satoru curiously then. “Have you given up your rakish ways, Satoru?”

“What rakish ways, you wound me, Mother.” She rolls her pretty blue eyes, a shade darker than Duke Gojo’s, and you tentatively put a hand on his, making him squeeze your thigh, you watch him suck in a breath.

“He’s a reformed rake at present, aren’t you, Satoru?” The room is quiet, and he looks at you in surprise, nodding, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and his warm lips feel far, far too sweet on your skin.

“Indeed, reformed for you my love.” He murmurs, and you can’t take how charming he looks, acts, even when you know how he really is.

You hate that you wished for one moment this was real, that the man you’d had dreams of as a young girl, the Duke - he’d been so charming and funny you noticed from afar- was actually kind. That he wouldn’t be fucking another woman right next to you, right in front of you. That he would truly mean what he says, and not constantly confuse you.

Was there kindness in him, in Satoru Gojo, or just this moment, where you both have some strange agreement? Why won’t you lift your hand off of his, why are you brushing a thumb along his knuckles, and why won’t he release your leg? His hand slides higher, his thumb ghosting along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and you bite back a gasp.

The conversation carries on, until Lady Gojo brings up Satoru’s father, and his grip gets brutal, his breathing labored. You clutch onto his hand, looking at him with concern stark in your gaze then. That vein bulges out of his jaw, and now he’s downing a whole glass of wine, holding the empty crystal for a servant to fill, beginning to chug that one down.

“I won’t speak of him, you know that Mother.” She sighs then, shaking her head, cutting a piece of roast beef and chewing it delicately.

“I do not know what ever happened.”

“You need not know. Do not bring him up, he’s dead, he’s gone.” At Satoru’s harsh and cruel words of his own father your mind races, what could he have done to earn such ire?

“Let’s speak of other things.” You chime in then, and he exhales, turning his hand up to entwine with yours, it’s as if you both were relying on each other to get through this sham of a dinner. Something about this was nicer than you cared to admit. “What of the opera this weekend? Are any of you going?”

“Indeed, we have a box seat. Are you two going?” Your father asks, as Lady Gojo is quiet, contemplative, and your mom is still rather huffy about the weight comments.

“We’re going, of course. You know I love the opera.” You say brightly, and soon the topics shift, and they’re on to speak of the races, of gossip, of different businesses and even political matters. The heat is off you and Satoru, so you let go of a hand you’ve held far too long.

Satoru’s hand doesn’t leave your body, it wraps around your back, rubbing little circles against it that feel so good. You laced incredibly tight due to your Mama and her perpetual comments, and you’re struggling just a bit to breathe, but he’s so comforting, his presence. It shouldn’t be.

It shouldn’t be.

It can’t be.

You hate him.

How dare he comfort you, defend you, how could you do the same, how could you act this way when hours ago he’d choked you, and you’d slapped him, and you’d both been so nasty? What was this, were you thinking more into it, was he just keeping up appearances?

Satoru leans close to you then, holding a piece of dessert on a silver fork, and you have flashbacks, of him and Catherine, so vivid you feel sick, you pull back then, wondering how you’d let it get so far, this facade. Just hours ago you had slapped him and he had choked you, and even you had been cruel, something you frequently were lately.

“I need some air, I’m afraid. Excuse me for just a moment.” You say softly, and Satoru’s eyes narrow a bit, his lips pursing just so.

You rush out into the gardens now, just like you had that night, taking several shaky breaths, trying to compose yourself, remind yourself of the cruel reality that Satoru is not kind, he is not interested. The truth that you have someone who cares, and every moment you enjoy with Satoru feels like some betrayal to him, in such an odd way.

You would be at best a plaything, and at worst, something for Satoru to mock, to have something over you. It was not as if the man for whatever reason feels some attraction that anything has changed. You are a damn fool, you realize it, as you walk past the beautiful marble statues of couples in love, naked aside from rippled sheets gracing their bodies.

You touch a particular one then, seeing the beauty of it, but also the pain, a statue with two women and one man. One is pulling at the man’s shoulders, while the other is in his arms, and you see the pain in the woman’s ivory face, the set of her brows, her hollow eyes, as the other woman smiles so coyly. There is the utmost detail as the man’s hand presses into her flesh.

You are that other woman, or you become that woman when you have just one feeling, just one care, just one moment. He is not sincere, he is not kind, just because he gave you one moment of reprieve, just because he apologized for one wrong doing amongst the countless… he is not worthy of forgiveness… he is not…

“It is rather beautiful, isn’t it?” You jerk and turn when you see him behind you in the dark night, where thousands of glittery stars watch you and judge you, will they laugh at how stupid you’ve become?

“It is my favorite piece in these gardens.” You say softly, clearing your throat and tilting your head back to look up at him, at his soft lips that tempt you with every breath, at his long white lashes casting shadows down his cheeks. You look down then, nervously gripping your sapphire gown. “I’ll be back momentarily, your Grace.”

“Your mother, she upset you.” His words surprise you, and you take a nervous breath, nodding. “I did not know… I see now, how jealous she is of you.”

“Jealous of me?”

“Mmm, young and beautiful, and she wishes she still was, not that she’s not a pretty lady, but certainly not…” He trails off then, tugging at his cravat, nervous by your shocked expression. “Not you.”

Your heart falters, tears pricking your eyes, and as they fall, Satoru brushes one away with a thumb, ripping apart a fragile psyche. “Why are you being kind? What games do you mean to play?”

He sighs, looking down now as well, broad shoulders slumping a bit. “I just realize that I triggered something already there, and I feel fucking horrible.”

“Then why do it? Why do any of it? What did I do to deserve-”

“I can’t tell you.” His voice is broken, his words so confusing you can’t stand it. “But we have something in common. Or, we did.”

“What, pray tell, is that?” You ask, raising a brow.

His jaw sets. ‘Shit parents who clearly hate us. Though, my shitty parent is since deceased. And yours lives and eats across from you. Was she always like this?”

You blink rapidly, nodding and brushing tendrils that have fallen from your half up do out of your face. “She’s always needed me perfect, picked me to fucking pieces, it’s like I couldn’t live up to it.”

He laughs, dark and without humor then. “I understand that feeling, to need to be perfect. I suppose I thought you were though.”

“I just come across that way. There’s so much wrong with me…”

“Like what?”

“A lot. As you know.”

“Hmm.” He sighs then, as you both stand together in the night, and you hate how much you ache to touch his chest, to feel his arms around you. And why!? Why?

“Well thank you for the kindness tonight, even if it was an act, it was a rather beautiful one.” You turn then, head dropping and shoulders stopping just a bit, as the gentle breeze of the night blows against your skin, making you shiver. Satoru’s big hands grip your shoulders then, and you stiffen, fighting how good it feels, fighting that feeling when he’s pressed against you.

Satoru leans down, breath tickling your ear. “It was not an act to defend you. That was not an act when you helped me either, changing that subject, was it?”

You shake your head then, breathing so heavy, wishing it would calm, as he’s so fucking close, you can feel him everywhere in the night, as if it’s all him. “You helped me, so of course I helped.”

“After all I’ve done, you owe me no kindness. No forgiveness. None.” His words are terse, as his grip tightens, and you bite your lower lip so brutally you tear the skin of it, tasting just a bit of blood. You fight every urge in your body.

“You’re not owed any. That is true. And we will go back to normal, as soon as we are at Gojo Manor-”

“Home. At home.”

“Your home.” You look up and glare, as he scowls. “You’ll have a mistress waiting in your bed, and you’ll cease to need to excite yourself with this stupid game, once a woman you desire is there.”

“You think…” His hands slip down to your waist, pressing you against him, and your head falls back against his chest before you can stop it, letting out a little whine that you despise. “I don’t desire you? Are you so stupid?”

“Fuck you, Gojo. Fuck you confusing me, fuck everything about you, including making me think… making me…”

“Think what, Princess?” His husky tone and that word make you so on edge you can’t stand it, as a big hand presses on your tummy over your corset.

“Don’t call me that, I’m a Duchess, and that’s temporary.”

“You’re a whole fucking Princess, everything about you. This body, this face, that annoyingly perfect posture, the way the entire room holds its breath-”

“Don’t do this. Don’t. You’re a liar.” You turn then, only for him to bend at the waist, cupping your face, shaking his head, the moonlight like a halo behind his head, behind his body, like he’s an angel, when he’s not. “Devil. You’re a devil.”

“And you’re a fucking angel.” You shake your head again, shoving at his chest, but his lips descend, and they feel so good they pulse through you, until you find yourself tip toeing, and he moans in your mouth. “Slutty angel.”

“Whore devil.” You whisper back, only for him to grip you roughly, hands obscene, grabbing your ass over your gown, picking you up with ease and pressing you against that statue, it digs in so hard but you come alive, as he’s kissing down your throat, your chest, biting and moaning so softly.

“Why must you do this to me? Haunt me so. I should hate you.” He says then, confusing the ever living shit out of you. “I should not want you.”

“Why not? Why do you… no… just, let me go. Don’t want this, don’t want you, I don’t!” You smack at his chest, and he grabs your wrists, shoving them behind your back, bringing your hips to him, and he’s hard and thick over your layers. You cry out, head falling back, and he devours you, bit by bit.

“I hate it. I hate you.” He kisses and kisses, as every confession of hate confuses you, as does your throbbing pussy. “I can’t stop it, I can’t stop these thoughts… of tasting you, of kissing you, bit by bit, of making you cum so much you’ll forget that man, he’ll be nothing.”

“Mnh, stop it. You can’t. You won’t. I won’t.” He’s sliding his hand up your bodice, gripping your breasts, shaking his head. “I can’t fall for this, for you, just leave me be!” He frowns then, brows knitting together, as he caresses your cheek far too softly.

His eyes devour you, full of… it’s fucking desire, isn’t it? A person can’t fake that look, but you must ignore it! You must… “Please… I need-”

You both fall apart as you hear your family now, and you just barely manage to escape with your mind intact. Partially.

You can’t fall for this, what even is this!?

It’s a silent carriage ride back, as you both stare out those dark carriage windows, pitch black nearly aside from soft lights hanging along, marking your path, and you can’t get his touch out of your mind, his kiss off your lips. You touch them then, sighing, and his eyes lock on you.

“What?” You say then, putting your fingers down, and he opens his mouth, then shuts it, opening it again. “Say it, Duke.”

“I was not pretending. I meant it.” You laugh then, shaking your head and facing him, as he faces you in the night, the carriage rocking roughly, shoving you into his damn arms, making him suck in a breath, as you push back.

“You’re such a liar, instead of just being cruel outwardly, you want to make me think you actually…”

“Actually what?”

“Want me! When you don’t!”

“I do! I do, fuck I do. Can you not fucking see!?” He demands then, and you shake your head quickly, breaths in quick pants, as his stupid fucking hands run down your shoulders. “I want you so badly I came and begged to taste you. Twice. What do you think that means?”

“That you’re stupid, confusing, a dick! Angry I don’t fall to my fucking knees for you. Conceited, narcissistic and ruthless! Cold and beautiful and hard, like some fucking diamond. You’re the diamond, you!” You shove at him, and he lets you, he lets you smack at him. “I hate you! I hate my life because of you!”

When you stop for just a moment it’s because you hear his labored breaths, and you look up to see tears in the night. You gulp, shaking your head, unbelieving them, gripping his suit so tight it hurts in your hands. He rests his forehead on yours, and you taste the sweet brandy on his breath, and fuck you hate it, when his head tilts, and when his lips brush yours like a ghost.

“You make me cry, you make me hate myself more, you make me… make me want to… you’ve pushed me so hard I-”

“I’m so fucking sorry. I am. I swear to god.”

“Then explain it!”

He chokes on his own cry, you feel your tears mingling together. “I can’t explain it to you, I can’t, but it was never your fault.”

“So I just accept that!? Fuck that. That’s bullshit.” You shove back, swiping your eyes and backing up, your back slamming against the rocking wooden carriage seat, thighs shaking. “It’s because I’m happy without you, you can’t stand it.”

“No, I can’t stand it, not when it’s me who should be making you cum.” You nearly growl in anger, glaring at him and smacking him, only for him to let you, to grip your wrist and kiss your palm. “Don’t fucking do that! I won’t stop seeing him. He is who deserves me, you do not!”

“I know I do not deserve you. I know.” He pins your wrists against the sides of you, and he’s now between your thighs, on his knees, and you’re panicking. “I know you’re too good for me. I know it, goddammit you shouldn’t even let me touch you, but you want it too, don’t you.”

“N-no! Never!” He exhales, slipping up your skirts, and you let him, fuck you spread your thighs for him. “What on Earth are you doing!?”

“I’m going to lick you. And you’re going to cum so hard you’ll forget anything, anything in that pretty head but me.” He whispers, you’re soaked clean through those pantalets he’s ripped off you then, and you gasp. 

“No, you won’t… you can’t… don’t want you…”

“No? Then explain this.” He’s slid a thick digit in your already dripping entrance, and you’re screaming out in the rocking carriage, earning his moan, his look of desire, as his eyes watch you in the night, watch your heaving breasts pressed high in your corset. “Soaking wet little cunt.”

“You can’t, you don’t want me, remember!? Fuck! I don’t want you… mmm… I don’t, no… ah! Fuck you!” He’s barely moving a finger and you nearly cum at that, as your fingers itch to shove his face where it’s so close, as he’s kissing and biting your thighs.

“Please.” He begs, looking up, eyes still glossy, and fuck he looks good, fuck you hate that you want it, that you want to so badly you can’t imagine anything else feeling that good. “Let me feel your cum on my face, dripping down my lips, let me drink all of you, Duchess. Please.”

 He’s desperate, he’s whiny, he’s between your thighs just begging, his own breaths labored, as he’s curling that finger up, and your head falls back, dripping down on him. “You can’t. It’s not… right. You’ll… fuck your whores… you’ll…”

“Just once, let me.” His desperation makes his voice break, as his breath tickles you. “Let me devour you, let me fucking feel you.” His words, his eyes, the finger sliding against your damp folds, it’s too much.

You hate yourself. 

“F-fine, once. I won’t like it, I know I won’t.” You say with a glare, earning a smirk, and a quirked white brow.

“We’ll see about that, Princess.”

He spreads your puffy, aching lips then, and moans when he watches wetness dripping out of your little hole, pooling out of your entrance, then he bends down, sliding his tongue up you, and it feels so good you can’t stop your moan, as those gorgeous eyes look up, and he’s tasting you, his tongue flicking your clit, making it twitch under it, your thighs tightening.

“Fuck you taste so good.” He whispers, lovingly almost, what a joke right, then he’s not just licking you, he’s grabbing you by the fat of your ass, pressing you against the carriage seat, and he’s devouring you.

“Ohmy- ah- what!? I- f-fuck!” You scream out, your hands clinging to his shoulders desperately as he’s sliding his tongue in and out of your soppy entrance, fucking you with it, drinking you all in. Your hips buck up, earning his groan, as he thrusts his tongue in and out, his nose bumping your clit, making you a mess, making you so wet it’s stupid.

You’re so close so quick, you can scarcely hold it in, and when he looks up at you, and takes your hand, putting it on his hair, you feel so fucking powerful then, so desired. You grip his soft hair, hips arching up for more, pulling at his strands, as he moans against you, diving back down, then you’re done for, you’re destroyed, your tummy is clenching with so much pressure you can’t hold in.

You scream out as you cum all over Duke Gojo’s pretty face, and he’s gripping your thighs bruisingly, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth now, humming, as you cum so hard it’s blinding. It washes all over your entire body now, thighs shivering violently on either side of his head as he pulls back, licking his lower lip, covered in your arousal.

“That’s it, you love it don’t you pretty girl?” His words kill your last resolve, if cumming hadn’t, and they confuse you, as your eyes are lidded, as he teases your sensitive entrance with prodding fingers, eyes locked on your face.

“P-pretty… pretty…”

“You’re so pretty like this. Fuck you are so, so pretty, falling apart for me.” He’s sliding two fingers in now, pumping in and out, and you’re on that edge again, as he huffs, leaning up, a breath away. “Lick your sweet cunt off me.”

“Fuck.” You cling to him then, against any good goddamn judgment, as he’s rocking fingers up and down in your tight entrance, and he’s kissing you desperately, so fucking hungry. Your teeth click as he steals your breath, as your tongues swirl so goddamn messy, saliva mixing with your arousal, and you’re both rough and brutal against each other.

He pulls back, biting his lip and sliding a free hand up to your breast, squishing it and making you cry out. “Cum again pretty. Like a good little slut.”

“S-slut… fuck you… fuck!” He’s dived back down now, as the carriage jostles you both, serving to only shove his face further between the apex of your thighs, and you can hear him groan as he licks you from bottom to top, fingering you and licking you, all while his snowy lashes cover his pretty eyes, his face tilted to the side to hit the underside of your clit in quick flicks.

You can't hold it together, everything falls apart again, and this time you're clinging to that white hair, rocking your hips up fucking shameless. He slurps up your wetness, so goddamn obscene in this little carriage as you scream out - “Gojo, c-cumming!”

He pulls back, face glistening, still pressing on that little spongy spot that has you panting, vision darkened as the carriage rocks you both. “Satoru, call me Satoru when you cum.”

“I can’t, I hate you… we hate each… f-fuck you…” He leans up, kissing your breasts, nipping and biting as his fingers work you, so deep it's insane how they hit, the pressure more and more intense as it builds.

“Please just one time. Say my name.” He whispers, vulnerable and begging again, as he's worshiping your cunt, your body. Your body heaves as you struggle to breathe, to think. “Please, Princess…”

“Princess, stop it, stop saying it fuck!” You’re crying salty tears as you’re about to cum again for this horrible man, who is looking at you hungrily.

“You are one, fuck you are, and I'm nothing. Please. Scream my name for me while I feel you gush this sweetness.” He begs again, eyes so dilated they're hard to look at, you're dripping down the carriage seat. You shouldn't be doing this, you shouldn't… you're awful, he's horrible… 

“You’re-”

“I know. I know. Please.” He says again, dipping back down, looking up at you now, and it ends you, that hot, wet tip of his tongue flicking where you're sensitive and you can’t stop your back from arching, your hands from pulling him closer. “Say my name, please. Please.”

His whispers are tickling that clit, as he now sinks two fingers so deep, deeper than you’ve had something in you, pressing so deep it’s almost painful, but you want it, you want more. You want all of him, you even want that pretty cock against all your better judgment, thinking of it just makes you squish lewdly, makes him lick his lower lip hungrily.

“Once?” He nods, free hand pressing your thigh up, flounces of skirts dangling as he still his motions, as he watches you eagerly.

“Then make me cum, and I’ll say it.” He moans at that, lashes fluttering as he dives back down fully, using two fingers as he mouths your clit, and you’re dripping all the way down, so much you’re slippery, and you can’t take it, you are so on edge, as he’s building this intensity in your core, as you listen to his hoarse moans muffled by your cunt.

Satoru has you there again, this time even more intense, your building climax, as you buck up your hips, grinding on his face, before stopping yourself, only for him to pull back for just a moment. “No, Princess, keep doing it. Fuck my face. All those frustrations, please fucking do it, get them out on me.”

You sputter, but then moan and pull him against you, grinding on his beautiful face in the night, as his tongue laps and laps, and your cunt spasms around his fingers now, pulsating as it hits you, as it rocks in waves, and you scream it, fuck you scream it… “Satoru! Satoru!”

He groans, fucking you with his long fingers as you cum so hard, harder than you could imagine possible, fucking reeling and weak, head smacking the seat as you pull his face so tightly, as he’s suffocating against you, but his mouth never stops. His fingers keep pressing up, forcing you into another, blue eyes looking up as he watches you so intently, fall apart.

“Satoru!” You scream again, and finally he relents, leaving you weak and boneless, and he’s kissing you again, as you cling so hungry, as you realize that carriage stopped. “Satoru…” He cups your face, eyes swirling, as you swipe some of your wetness off him.

“I want you around my cock so goddamn bad. So bad. Fuck I’d do anything to feel her.” He whispers, and you can’t stop it, you just kiss him again, and before you know it, you’re out of the carriage in his arms, and he’s quickly walking you in as you cling to him, as your mouths don’t leave each other, not even to breathe, tongues in desperate strokes.

He presses you against the wall of the drawing room, yanking down your bodice now, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he kisses and bites, as your cunt grinds where he’s so hard, as you want more impossibly more. And from him!? But you can’t remember a goddamn thing he did when he looks at you like that, when he cups your face, pressing you further.

“I need you, fuck I need you.” He says then, and you can’t respond, as your mind swirls. “Are you innocent still? I don’t even care, I won’t judge you, I just need to know if we take this to my bed or I fuck you here.”

As he’s whispering, you blink back tears, sucking in a breath. “We shouldn’t do this, Satoru.”

His eyes get heady, glazed over as he grinds again. “Fuck, my name on your lips?”

“Satoru I… I am still-”

“Your grace, your mistress and Lady Elaine are both here for you.” Satoru’s butler says then, clearing his throat, and it’s like someone threw a bucket of water all over you. Satoru looks in horror as he watches you break, as you shove and shove until he lets you go.

“I am stupid, you’re right.” You whisper then, running, and he’s running after you, shoving past the butler, and you run almost into them, those ladies giggling and sipping wine in your home.

But it’s not your home.

“Please, it was before this. I’ll send them home!” He pleads as he catches you on the stairway, and the ladies are scowling at you, making you so goddamn angry, you shove at him, and he yanks at you. “I want you! I want you!”

“You never did. It’s a game! That's all I am to you.” You sob uncontrollably, hunching over as he clutches you, and you wriggle in his hold. “I hate you!”

“I swear, I didn’t… I didn’t know we’d…” He cups your face then, gulping, his lips tremulous. “I had no clue I’d ever get you like this. I don’t want it to end, not this… I want tonight to be about you, about you only. Please.”

“You knew they’d be here! Is this funny to you? Toying with my goddamn emotions, making me think you could… we could… Ugh!” You shove past him again, running to your room in your pretty silver heels, clicking up the steps, lifting your skirts, and you hear those women now, making your blood boil.

“Duke Gojo-”

“Fuck off.” He shouts back, chasing you, but you’re already in your room, and you’re trying to shut it. “They’ll go home, I swear. Please, let me… let me just touch you more, taste you more. You can do nothing to me if you don’t want to. Please.” He’s pleading now, as you’re trying to shut the door on him, and you can barely look at him, it hurts so bad.

“It’s a game.”

“It’s not!”

“It all is to you. You mean to break me in other manners.”

“No I do not!”

“Then tell me, why do you hate me!? Why!?” He blinks then, opening his mouth, then exhaling, hands reaching for your face, hands that feel too perfect on your skin, hands that made you forget. “You cannot open up to me, you cannot do anything but confuse me. You go down there with them, have your fun, what do I even care, I’m nothing to you!”

“I want you goddammit, you! They’re nothing compared to you.” He speaks through gritted teeth, and you want to believe it, but you steel yourself, as much as you can, shaking your head. “I swear it. I swear it, let me show you…”

“You’ve made enough of a fool of me. Imagine me thinking you could be my first? After…” He pauses, eyes wide, and you shake with your emotion. “I’m an idiot. You were right.”

“I am the idiot. Fuck I know it. Please, give me tonight, please.” He keeps cupping your face, as you hear his women laughing.

“They laugh at me. I’m a joke.”

“You’re-”

“I am. A laughingstock. But at least before I had my dignity, now you strip even that away! Go, I shall never be a fool again.”

He growls, grabbing at you tightly. “Goddamit, stop this, just let me try!”

“I can’t take it. I can’t.” You sob harder as you finally shut the door on his forlorn face, and he’s smacking the door with an angry fist, as you gently touch the door where his hand is, resting your head on it. “I wish it was real.” You whisper, against your will, and you feel another thud on the door.

“Please let me in, please.”

“It hurts too goddamn much. Play your games with someone else. I can’t take this. I can’t.” You feel yourself losing control, and finally you’re sliding down the door, curling into a ball and sobbing, and it takes a long, long time to calm down, to stop banging on the door.

“Please, I’m begging you, open this door. Even if we… even if I just look at you, please.” Your eyes are so full of tears they burn, at his emotional voice, but it’s got to be an act, it’s got to be!

You’re stupid.

You’re so stupid.

You hate yourself for this.

How could you!?

You almost…

“It was real.” He whispers finally, before you hear one more punch at your door, then hear his thuds as he leaves. And your mind wracks, with what will happen, what you’ve done.

What have you done?

And was he in their arms, as you held yourself and cried?

Or was he truly…

You hear nothing that night, but who knows, what if they’re in the dining hall, in the kitchens… you hear nothing as you climb into your bed, aside from a sob ripped from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You sit up in the bed, heart pounding, talking yourself out of this, out of this folly.

He’s cruel.

It’s a game.

You’ve wronged Nanami Kento now.

Someone who really cares.

For what!?

You touch the cold wall of your room, where his bed is on the other side, a bed you’ve never slept in, a bed you’d have let him fuck you in tonight. How could you, how could you, stupid, stupid, stupid. Those women were waiting, and who knows, what if he was fucking them now!? 

What do you care!?

You care.

Fuck you care.

You stomp out of the room an hour later, throat so tight, Satoru always takes your goddamn breath, he never gives you oxygen, just pain, just confusion. You tense as you walk past his room, and you expect it, his women, but Satoru is alone in the night, in his bed, bare back strong as he shivers against the cold, his window wide open.

You hate when you step in, when you shut the window with a quiet click, and you see him sleep for the first time. You hate when you pull up his thick blue blankets over his bare upper body, when he moans in his sleep, and turns his head, so the moonlight illuminates his face. You hate when you caress his cheek with a finger, and you hate when his lips part with a sigh.

You hate how you want to kiss his forehead, you hate how you can’t find the proper way to be mad at him enough. You sigh then, blowing out the candle barely flickering by his bed, brushing soft white hair back one more time, before padding out quietly, shutting the door behind you, resting your back on it.

You can’t be feeling this. He’ll only make a fool of you. So what if he maybe sent them home early? What’s it matter? You should know better. You go back to your room then, laying in your gigantic bed, all alone, empty, as tears fall on your pillow, as you wonder if you should have let him in, but how can you?

Your eyes shut, and you flit from dream to dream, in flitful images, as the heavy weight in your heart fills, as you remember all he’s done, all he’s said, and how easily you almost forgot it with his kisses. His tongue. His eyes. The way Satoru consumed your mind, until it was nothing but him.

Who is Satoru Gojo, was he this cruel man or was he perhaps something more? Why do you care so much?

You finally cry yourself to sleep, dreading what the reality of tomorrow brings, and hating especially that you had to tell someone you care about that you’re horrible. Nanami’s handsome face makes your heart sink, as you realize you’ll lose him, and you’ve lost yourself, all for that man, a man you don’t know, a man who drowns you just existing.

A man that makes it so hard to breathe.

Until the next one dear masochistic readers <3

Part Seven

[fanaticsnail]

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (1/2)

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Part 2 Here

Word count: 7,500+

Synopsis: Doffy is attempting to gain the upper hand against you. He's longed for you, yearned for you - in his own unique way. Considering you never give in to his flirtatious advances, he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to spike your drink. The problem? Your quick wit and nimble fingers switch whisky glasses with him, causing unforeseen problems that he has no cure for…

Warnings: Doflamingo x f!reader, NSFW, 18+, Mdni, smut, pollen fic, Pollen!Doffy x Unaffected!reader, dubcon, size difference (Doffy is 10’, reader is 5’+), degradation - Doffy receiving, yandere Doffy, Doffy is a brat, mentions of drugging, mention of poison, Doflamingo is a conniving bastard, swearing, choking - Doffy receiving, Doflamingo is his own warning, Doffy begs, toxic relationship, Doffy is infatuated, love confession, marriage proposal. ‘Mi amor,’ ‘Mami,’ femme titles used for reader.

Notes: this may not be everyone's cuppa, and it was absolutely something different I decided to try for pollen. Please read the warnings before reading the fic.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @nerium-lil @writingmysanity

Sitting at the lengthy dining table, Donquixote Doflamingo extended his glass out towards the gathering of eclectic individuals. Each person present had an array of wealth, titles and reputation; all represented with their names embroidered into their napkins and painted into their drinking glasses.  

Doflamingo had planned everything perfectly. He had plotted each element of the meal to have everyone relax into the welcoming environment: keeping the air light and merry. There was not a fork out of place, nor a knife unaccounted for. He wanted the mood light enough to have you not suspecting a thing to go wrong.

And everything was going exceptionally well, all according to his plan. 

“To a long and healthy relationship between us all,” Doflamingo's smirk grew on his face, him turning to you with a small wink, “And to casting aside differences in the face of humility. Salud.”

“Salud,” you and the crowd repeated in unison, all arms extended with beverages in hand. 

Your glasses all contained gold letters depicting your names and titles on the rim. The servers ensured the liquid was all topped up with your chosen beverage for the night. Your choice? Whisky, neat with no frills nor ice to taint the liquid. Just like your host, Donquixote Doflamingo. 

All according to your plan. 

As soon as you received an invitation to attend this dinner party, you knew Doflamingo was planning something sinister for you. His silly little mind games he used to attempt to get the better of you were always centric to his plans. To embarrass you, to humiliate you, to harm you, to ridicule you: this was always the aim. And you had had just about enough of this torment. 

Getting information out of his menagerie of guards and house staff was simple enough. Offer them enough Berry, and their lips would never stop moving. Hearing Doflamingo’s disappearance in the town square, halting over a small shop stocked with pills and powders, had you mortified at his cruel fate he had in store for the evening. 

You expected poison to meet with your lips the moment you raised your glass to meet them. Your little game would rise to the greatest crescendo yet, you clutching at your rapidly closing throat and pleading for reprieve. Considering Doflamingo was the one to purchase the powdered poison, he would likely only offer you the antidote if you begged for it. 

In lieu of following through with the action of swallowing a heaping gulp of poisoned whiskey, you decided to give the pink-feathered bastard a taste of his own medicine. You reap what you sow, was how you figured it. 

“Fuck around and find out,” you chanted internally. Your soft, knowing smile drew over your features; watching Doflamingo drain the contents from the glass in his hand with gusto. You mirrored his action, downing the liquid in a single gulp. 

Doflamingo shot you a smirk, watching your face for any immediate changes to your body. A flush of your cheeks, a dilation of your pupils, your lips parting and becoming both drier and filling with saliva in unison. He was shocked when you returned his smile: only warmth being offered to him from your place across the dining table before turning to the woman beside you. 

He initially thought drugging you with a form of poison would be a hilarious sight: watching you claw at your neck and beg for the antidote in front of a room of his wealthy guests gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. But to give you an incredibly potent aphrodisiac with no known cure aside from giving into your cravings? Why, the thought alone made his cock twitch in eager anticipation.

He wanted nothing more than to have you shed your fine clothes of their place on your body, tearing them at the seams and beg for him to finally fuck you. He wanted you so desperate for him, you'd care not of the fact the room was full with those in your same league of formal standing. 

As you had always turned down his prior advances of you; he wanted to claim you publically, and leave no room for misinterpretation for his ownership of you. He wanted you to want him, to yearn for him, to plead for his cock with lust oozing from your body in rapid waves. 

He wanted you to want him in the same way he chased his release into his palm every night since your first introduction together. He wanted you the same way he would pay concubines to pretend to be you: copying your mannerisms, immigrating your vocal cadence, wearing similar attire. 

It was never enough for him. He wanted the real thing, and he hoped this final push would have you want him back. 

His craving to have you on your knees and begging for his cock to fill you to the brink with his cum, your neediness flushing your face, the whines and whimpers you'd elicit was too much for his mind to catch up with. He was already feeling aroused by the thought alone, confused at how alite his body felt with just the simple flash of erotic imagery. 

Suddenly the room was hot. Too hot. His clothes were too tight, the lights were too bright; causing him to wince behind his rosy glasses. His cheeks tinted with a soft pink, his body immediately becoming ignited with the hot beads of glistening sweat. 

He attempted to process the feeling, the stiffness of his erection brushing painfully against his striped, leather pants. Eyes widening and teeth clenching, he hissed out a winced breath as the sensitive buds of his nipples grazed against the open jacket firmly clutched against his chest. 

Looking down at the glass in his hands, his lips parted with horror. 

Your name was intricately painted in perfect cursive on the rim, each letter sparkling in the light illuminating the room. He snapped his face over to you, watching as your smile climbed up at the corners of your lips. 

Remaining blissfully unaware of how much torture you narrowly avoided, you asked the waiter for another glass of whiskey for yourself and your companion beside you.  

The glass in your hand had his name “Donquixote Doflamingo” in coiled lettering on the rim. As the waiter filled it, you held your eyes firmly against your conversation partner before you slowly sipped at the contents within. 

The cruel reality of his situation now dawned on him. 

He had unintentionally spiked himself with the incurable aphrodisiac, in public, instead of you. And now his body was desperate to see his lust satisfied by any means necessary. 

“And what did he say, Maria?” you asked the woman beside you, your attention fully fixed on her eyes as she relayed her tale. 

“He said: ‘a goddess as radiant as you should have men falling to their knees in adoration’,” Maria mocked in a lower, masculine tone. You bit back your smirk, eyeing her dangerously. 

“And what did you do in response to that?” you urged her with an excitement in your knowing tone. 

“I let him worship,” she smirked at you. Both of you became overcome with a fit of giggles, laughing at the sheer audacity of her promiscuous nature. You tapped her forearm with your hand playfully, enjoying a soft shove in return from her shoulder. 

Of the guests amongst you: Maria and you had known each other the longest. Both of you felt out of place here, being two of the few women present. You were roughly of similar ages, both unmarried and unspoken for. She had a soft-spot for the marines, her latest conquest being the right-hand man of Vice-Admiral Garp. 

“You are incorrigible,” you tease her, with a soft, “Atta girl,” added, nudging her with your shoulder before elevating your drinking glass up to take a sip. 

“Speaking of,” she returned your gentle nudge with one of her own, “Doflamingo’s glass? How'd you manage that?” She gestured to the cup in your hand. 

“Bribed the server,” you smirked, clinking the rim of the cup with the one in her own hand, “Had a feeling a game was afoot. And you know what they say,” you leant against her shoulder, both fixing your eyes on the blonde man at the head of the table. 

“Play stupid games,” you both uttered in unison, “Win stupid prizes," concluding with a sinister chuckle,

Your host for the night was hunched over the table, his teeth clenched firmly shut and soft beads of sweat were rapidly now gathering at his temple. This only solidified your suspicions, noticing the silence he was presenting in lieu of his usual conversation. 

Raising your brow, you remained focussed on him as the grip his hands perched against the table made his knuckles flash white. Curiosity plagued you, unsure as to why he was not asking his staff for the antidote to cure him. He was obviously under the effects of some kind of poison, his heavy breathing and indicator of such a plight. 

Why would he not ask for help? 

His eyes meet with yours, his frown deep and teeth grimacing. Quietly raising your eyebrows at him, you gently extend his glass in the air to add further sting to the ridicule. His eyes drew up to glare beneath his pink glasses. His pupils were focussed on your body, noticing every exposed area of flesh remaining unshrouded on the neckline of your button-up shirt. His eyes attempted to undress you, his gaze scorching you beneath his rose-tinted glasses. 

Noticing his gaze, you hum in deep thought. Shrugging your shoulders back, you turn to Maria beside you and give her a short nudge. Upon finishing her final bite of dessert, she turned towards you. 

“I’m going to go and gloat for a minute at my quick swipe,” you smirk at the woman to your side, “I'll be back once I'm satisfied he's ‘faced his humility’.” 

“Be safe!” she giggled, ushering you on with two quickened waves of her hands. 

“I'll be so safe,” you mocked her in return. Rising to your feet, you tucked your chair beneath the table and watched as several others did the same. All mingling amongst one another, you made yourself comfortable in a now vacant seat beside Doflamingo. 

“Doflamingo,” you nodded your acknowledgement, crossing your knees beneath the table and nudging his calf with your foot, “You've been awfully quiet tonight.” Trailing your toes over his calf, you noticed the hitch of his breath as he balled his knuckles into clenched fists. 

“Something amiss?” You asked him, placing down your drinking glass for the night while circling the rim with your index finger, “Something not quite going according to plan, perhaps?” Your smile grew as you noticed his shoulders tense, his breath hitch and his legs began to shake beneath your foot.

Gently trailing your toes higher, you eyed his reaction cautiously. His body was as hard as polished marble, his hair now slightly damp with a small amount of sweat gathering on his forehead. 

“Oh, Doffy,” you hissed a small whisper, your foot now tracing the outer edge of his thigh, “What the fuck were you attempting to poison me with this time?” You clicked your tongue at him, pouting through pursed lips, “Doesn't look like it's quite agreeing with you.”

“Out,” he whispered in a gruff bark. 

The quiet growl cut through the air like a steel knife carving through tough flesh. All guests immediately drew their eyes over to the pink-feathered host with a snap of their chins towards him. 

“I said out,” he snarled, his eyes frantically darting between each member attending the dinner party, “Everyone out. Out now.” 

You flinched at his change of tone, jumping back in your seat but refusing to hede to his dictation. Doflamingo felt his blood ignite with a passionate lust he had never experienced. He needed the cure, and he needed it now. 

Each guest rose to their feet, murmuring amongst themselves as they hastily fled the space with caution. Against your better judgment to follow suit, you remained behind and rose the glass marked ‘Donquixote Doflamingo’ to your lips and finished the remaining liquid within. 

Whiskey burned its way down your throat, the honey-sweet notes lingering on your palate as you placed the glass down once more. You rose to your feet and grasped for the water jug in front of Doflamingo and poured your emptied glasses with the icy water. 

“You don't look so good, sweetheart,” you cooed in a mocking gloat, placing the water glass with your name in front of him, “Have a drink, you'll feel better.” Doffy remained unmoving, clenching his eyes tightly shut as his body fought against itself. 

He tried to convince himself he'll manage this. He'll get through it without asking for your aid. He'll be able to withstand the potency of the aphrodisiac without becoming a whimpering mess in front of you.  

But then you spoke. 

And you kept speaking. 

Your sweet voice cut into his resolve with expert precision. Haunting him, cursing him with the ridicule that you should've been experiencing. He attempted to control his urges by gulping back a dry mouthful of saliva and concentrating on slowing his breathing. 

“Oh, come now,” you scolded the tall, blonde, “Nothing to say for yourself, huh?” You leaned your hips back on the table and eyed him cautiously, “Not even going to order the staff to get the oral antidote for whatever you've-.”

“-There is no oral antidote,” he spat through gritted teeth. He tried to ignore the twitch of his cock at the mention of ‘come’ and ‘oral’ from your lips. The swelling blood pooling in his cock had the shiny tip brushing against his leather pants. He mewled at the small twitch of his oversensitive knob, attempting to disguise his whimper with a soft cough. 

The air grew thick and tense; silence swelling in an uncomfortable dance of fluttering heartbeats. After taking a moment to hone in on your thoughts, you slowly inhaled and exhaled alongside externally verbally processing. 

“You were going to have me drink a poison tonight that had no cure?” you uttered darkly, “And watch me convulse as I took my last breaths?” Down turning your snarl and drawing up your heckles, you placed your foot on Doflamingo's bare chest and kicked hard. You glared into his shrouded eyes. 

“You were going to publicly execute me in front of your guests?” you continued, “My friends, my colleagues, my potential clients? Doflamingo,” you continued, leaning down and pressing your chest into your knee, “You deserve your cruel fate. Suffer, asshole.”

A shaky, large hand slowly drew itself up and softly cupped your ankle. He cautiously lifted your foot off his chest and pressed his lips against the ball of your foot. As soon as that kiss ended, another was placed slightly higher up into your inner calf. 

He removed your shoe, casting it to the side of him as he groped at you with his large hands. Hastily drawing his hands down to collect your other foot, he rid the presence of your shoe from you before placing your toes down on his thigh. 

Shock wrote itself on your face as a flurry of several more kisses were pressed into you. Each kiss was accompanied by a strangled whimper falling from Doflamingo's lips: breath hitched, brows furrowed and throat humming out the calls of desperation. 

“It h-has a cure, mi amor,” he softly whined into your leg, “Just not a manufactured one.” His lips could barely part with your skin, each soft kiss growing hungrier the further up your legs he drew. Humming through several more of his kisses, you were too terrified to truly correlate his affectionate advances to any known experience prior. 

Donquixote Doflamingo had always been intrigued by you. Always finding some way to bully, vex and torture you. This was something you never anticipated. His desperation in need for you was now depicted as his tongue raked up your thighs: his moist organ dampening your pants with a long and lustful streak of saliva. 

“Absolutely not,” you spat, forcing Doflamingo back into his seat by pressing your foot against his chest once again. “What the fuck, Doflamingo?” He mewled as your heel grazed his right nipple, his body crying out in relief and arousing itself further. 

From this angle, you hastily drew your eyes down to the large polearm hoisting up his pants in a perfect peaked tent. His large cock left very little to the imagination beneath the shroud of his leathery pants. 

He whispered your name, the last syllable calling out in a soft sob. His breaths were both deep and shallow, his body hot and cold, his mind clear and cloudy - he had no idea how to process these emotions. All he knew is he needed you. He wanted you. He craved you. 

Disgust was now openly displayed on your features at his desperation, watching the mighty King of Dressrosa sob and cry for you like a child that had a favorite toy hovering just out of reach. His hands began opening and closing, the strings of his devil-fruit power beginning to hover in his fingertips; only to fizzle away as soon as they formed. 

“What were you attempting to spike me with tonight?” you hissed at the blonde king, adding an emphatic kick to his chest to regain his attention. 

“An aphrodisiac,” he admitted, choking on his confession as he attempted to withhold it, “One so potent, the only cure for it is s-sex.” He moaned with his hissed admission, throwing his head back and whimpering. 

You sucked in a horrified gasp, recoiling as you understood exactly what he was admitting to you. You took a moment to collect your thoughts and mull over your next actions. Hardening your resolve, you shook it off and removed your foot from his chest, before straightening up your clothes. 

“Fuck you, Doflamingo,” you spat, beginning to walk away from him and collect your discarded shoes. He spun in his chair, almost knocking the seat over with the haste he followed you with. 

“Where are you going?” he whispered your name, falling onto his knees and needily following you with desperate longing. You growled, pairing your shoes and beginning to attempt to exit the dining room. 

“Getting you your concubines,” you spat over your shoulder, “Only cure for this is sex, and there is no way you're getting that from me,” Your hand hovered the doorknob, halting as a large hand drew down onto your knuckles and held your hand firmly away from it. 

“Don’t,” he huffed a gruff growl, his body leaning unconsciously towards you. 

“You want the cure? I'm getting it for you,” you whispered, rage bubbling within your chest, “It's likely better than the fate you had in store for me.”

Silence was once again uncomfortable between you, your confirmation solidified in the quiet of his response. 

“You would've had me beg for it, wouldn't you?” you uttered darkly, “Have me grovel and plead for release in front of the entire dinner party.” His hand tightened over yours, bordering on painful. 

“Yes,” he admitted in an icy tone. He sucked in his bottom lip, clenching his teeth over them and moaned while inhaling your scented perfume. 

“And who was going to be the likely cure for this tonight?” you shot over your shoulder, noticing his face was hovering closely against your shoulder, “You?”

“Yes,” he whined, hovering his body behind yours and caging it against the door. 

“You bastard,” you spat, turning around to face him and breaking your hand away from his, “You don't deserve a cure for this-.”

“-I know,” he sobbed, dropping to his knees in front of you, “I know, I know. I just-...” 

“Just what, Doffy?” you growled at him, “What now? After all this, what-?”

“-I just wanted you to want me how desperately I want you,” he confessed in a single breath, his words fleeing from him with unbridled gusto, “I wanted you to want me so badly, your body couldn't stand another moment without me. And now that I've taken the fucking drug instead of you,” he lunged towards you, clutching at your thighs, “I can barely keep up with how much I want you.”

“Doffy, what are you-?” you began, your breath hitching in a shriek as he ripped off your pants in a quick swipe. “Doflamingo!” you yelped as he buried his nose against your clothed cunt. 

“Let me taste you,” he whined, nuzzling against your panties with his nose and greedily lapping at the cotton with his lengthy tongue, “Please, let me have you cry for me. I n-need you.”

“Doffy,” you uttered sharply, nudging his shoulders away from you - which did nothing to halt his enthusiastic advance. He instead circled his arms around your thighs and hooked them over his shoulders. 

Shrieking, your back was now placed against the door: Doflamingo's head buried deep between your thighs as he clasped his hands around your ass to hold you in place. Greedily bobbing his head, he began lapping at your cunt with his slippery tongue, paying no mind at all to the fact what he wanted most was shrouded by the fabric of your panties.

With each cruel swipe, a single word was chanted in a penance-like prayer. The word was music to your ears, your resolve crumbling with each whimpered petition. The song of his desperate pleading beckoned you to let go and give into him. 

“Please.” He hooked his lengthy tongue beneath the fabric, clenching his teeth on the elastic and noseying it aside with his chin. “Please.” Flattening his tongue, he gasped as he tasted your sweet nectar and swirled his organ over your clit. “Please.” 

The ache in his pants was so strong, he could barely take another moment not being buried to the hilt within you. He continued to make an effort to withhold his cravings, to ensure you were ready to take him, as he was twice your size in every way. 

Being the giver was not his strength. Doflamingo would take, take, take until there was nothing left to take from his bedmates. He wanted to chase his release, no matter the consequences his large cock would indent while sheathed within a partner. He simply didn’t care about them, but he did care about you. He wanted you to want him so badly, desperate to earn your approval and love. He needed you to know how far he was willing to go to ensure this was as good for you as it was going to be for him. 

You barely had a moment to adjust to what was happening to you. Replaying the events of the evening perplexed you with even more confusion. 

Doflamingo invited you to dinner with the intention of poisoning you. A poison that was an incurable aphrodisiac that made you desperate for sex with any willing partner. The reason he wanted to poison you with this was because he liked you, and wanted to pursue you romantically. And instead of asking to formally court you, he decided spiking your drink in public was the answer. 

You had every right to push him away, to tell him “no,” and to halt his advances. But at each skillful swipe of his tongue, you felt more of yourself melting away beneath his humility. His apology dictated to you with each intentional swirl of his lengthy tongue.

“Doffy,” you mewled to him, feeling his tongue dip into your slick entrance. His nose circled your clit, his skillful organ greedily flicking in and out of your cunt while hooking up within you to climb deeper into your body. Your walls clenched around his tongue, his chin spiriting you towards bliss as he ground your pussy against his face. 

“Please,” he muffled into your core, desperately lapping up your arousal like a dog parched for water, “Please, please.” You felt your stomach tighten, his aggressive chase of your high with his lips wrapping around your sensitive bud ushering you to your unravel. 

“Doffy, wh-what are you-oh!” your breathy gasp had his hands pawing at your ass, grinding your core against his face harder to urge you closer to your high. Your hands pawed at the wall behind you to brace yourself against it. You found the pit of your stomach wind tighter and shoot sparks down your legs. He moaned into you, expressing his gratitude at your body beginning to give into him and release your inhibitions onto his face. 

“Please cum,” he begged, slurping messily and lapping up your juices, “Cum on my tongue. I n-need it.”

Your hands shot down to his hair, clutching at the strands in heaped fistfuls. As the coil inside you snapped, your lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as he channeled his desperation into meeting your needy thrusts and grinds against his head. “Let go, let go,” he begged you, his face becoming coated by your gushing slick. 

“D-Doffy! Oh, f-fuck. Oh fuck, I'm cumming. You fucking prick, Doffy!” You mewled his name, crying for him with your eyes clenched tightly shut. 

His hair began to burn within your fists, but he truly didn’t care. His tongue lapped up your gushing cunt over emphatically while grinding you skillfully against his nose, lips, tongue and chin. Riding your high, Doflamingo continued to hold you against his face as your soul fell back inside your body. 

“So good,” the older Donquixote brother complimented you, looking up at you through his glasses, “Now let me fuck you.” He withdrew your hips from his head, attempting to wrap your legs around his waist and shepherd you over the waistband of his pants. 

He pawed at the front button, his cock immediately springing forth and glistening in the light. Eyes spread wide with worry, you shook your head after feeling yourself recover from your high. Your underwear once again shrouded your glistening core, protecting you from a small twitch of interest from Doflamingo’s aching and incredibly large cock. 

“No, Doffy,” you firmly commanded, wriggling yourself away from his hold over you. As you side stepped, his hands extended in longing with outstretched, splayed fingers. He whimpered, his body leaning down and shaking with desire. 

“B-But I-...” he didn't get a chance to speak, as you growled over his pleas. 

“-You pinned me to the wall, and forced me cum on your face after you attempted to poison me,” you barked at him, “And now you expect me to help you by what? What, Doffy?” you snarled intp his face, baring your teeth at him, “You want me to sit on your cock and ride you until you cum? Tsk, pathetic.”

A sound you were not expecting to exhale through Doflamingo's lips at this moment. He sobbed, his lips quivering as his hands shuddered. His lengthy digits hovered over his cock, desperately wanting to chase his high into his fist: only withholding it because he knew it would make his situation all the more severe. He knew he couldn’t cum without external, other bodily stimuli. He needed you to help him, and he bit back a soft sob as his eyes grew glossy behind his pink glasses. 

“I need you,” he whimpered, “I need you so badly. I needed you when you were first introduced to me, and I have needed you ever since.”

“I simply do not care, Doflamingo,” you spat in return, his soft sob doing nothing to break you away from your resolve, “The only thing I’ll do for you is get you a concubine to sleeve your cock in, but otherwise I am done.”

“I don’t want them, I want you,” he whimpered, shaky hands balling into his covered thighs. His cock twitched in the air, the veiny underside throbbing with pulsating longing. You fold your arms over your chest, looking down on the taller man with absolute disgust. He held your gaze with his shrouded eyes, disguising his longing behind their tinted hue. 

“You repulse me,” you snarled, walking over to his kneeling position on the floor.

“I adore you,” he mewled through his confession, gasping as you grasped his girthy shaft. 

“You don’t deserve this,” you began pumping his shaft, flicking your thumb over his glistening knob. 

“You deserve the world,” he confessed, a small release of tears began expelling from his eyes. You halted your fisting of his cock, focussing your unrelenting grasp over his tip and squeezing it. 

“I despise you,” you spat, using your unoccupied hand to pry his glasses away from his face; throwing them on the table beside you. As soon as your attention returned to his now unconcealed eyes, your breath was stolen from your lungs. 

“I desire you,” he whispered, blinking slowly with his lengthy blonde eyelashes. You understood now why he concealed them behind his sinister glasses. His irises were a pastel pink, eyes expressive now they were unshrouded by the coloured glass. There was no lie presented within his eyes, honesty being the only inhabitant lying within. He was a very pretty man, especially with his whole face now presented to the light. 

“You make me sick,” you lied through gritted teeth as you rolled your neck, stepping out of your panties and straddling his lap, “You are foul,” you anchored your knees against his hips, placing your heels firmly on the floor beside him, “Obnoxious and detestable.”

“Mami, stop teasing me with your horrible words,” he moaned, “I’ll cum.”

“You’ll cum when I allow you to cum,” you retorted firmly. The bob of his adams apple did not escape your notice, nor did the soft roll of his glassy pastel eyes. You clicked your tongue, lining up your slit with the tip of his cock. 

“Don’t you fucking move, Doflamingo,” you barked your orders at him, “You’re a great deal larger than I am, and I am no mere whore you paid to fuck yourself stupid in.” He sucked in a soft whimper as he felt your prior release coat his knob, “I don’t particularly enjoy taking partners twice my size, and I don’t want to get hurt because you decided you wanted to buck up suddenly.”

“I-I won’t, mi amor,” he stuttered, crying out a little with his lips parted, “I’ll be a good boy, I swear. So good for you.” 

“Pathetic prick,” you mewled at him, eyes wincing as your body adjusted to taking his tip inside you, “It hurts,” you cried out a little as your body began to sink onto him. Your slow descent atop his cock, impaling yourself on his thick shaft, had your breath hitch and a soft whimper leave you, “And you were going to rail me with it, weren’t you?”

He stooped low, covering his eyes by burying his head against your clavicle. He huffed out his restraint, his voice shuddering as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Wrapping his arms around your back, his fingertips ghosted around your body to trace gentle encouraging circles against your skin. 

“Answer me, asshole,” you sobbed, slowly sinking down as you felt the blunt, mushroomed tip begin to kiss your cervix, “You owe me that much.” Anchoring your hands against his shoulders, you braced yourself as you continued to inch your way down his lance of a cock. The girth was almost the width of your forearm, your glistening walls struggling to stretch to accommodate him. 

His shoulders shook, his lips finding your collar bone and pressing gentle kisses against it. He winced as he disciplined his body to wait for you to adjust to him, sniffing back a small cry.

“Th-The pollen makes you-... nnnmpph-... Makes your arousal heighten,” he winced at his resolve, bracing you within his arms and snaking his large hand up your back, “You would’ve b-been too far gone to care.” 

“Is that what you are, Doflamingo?” you snarled at him, sinking yourself past your limit to suck more of his full length inside your body, “Too far gone to care?”

“I want you, mi amor,” he murmured into your shoulder, nose rubbing against your neck and brushing your blouse away from covering your chest, “Although, I a-am reaching my l-limit for tolerance. I need to fuck you. I need t-to cum inside you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare move,” you whimpered at him, “You’re too f-fucking b-big.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, tearing his face away from you to look into your eyes, “I am so sorry.” His expressive eyes pleaded for you to understand how hard he was trying to hold himself back. His pink irises were eclipsed by his blown pupils, his lips open and panting, his temple bleeding with drops of heavy sweat. He couldn’t help a soft rock of his hips, testing how your body adjusted to him. 

“Stop!” you barked at him, “Stop that right now or I’ll leave.” Doffy whined, prying open your shirt with one quick rip, tearing the buttons from the seams and revealing your bare chest to him. The buttons flew over the room, your nipples perking up now revealed to the cool of the air. Your sleeves fell down your shoulders and each inch of revealed skin was immediately replaced by Doflamingo’s lips. 

“I’m r-reaching the e-end of my resolve, mi amor,” he confessed, “I-I’m c-close, and I need you to bounce a little on me. Please ride me as you are now, you d-don’t need to take any more of my length. Please just bounce on what you can take. I’ll be so good.”

“Close just from me taking your partial length? You’re so fucking pathetic,” you degraded him, your voice solid and unwavering. You felt the twitch of his cock, his body revealing more to you than he would ever audibly inform you, “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Doffy whimpered.

“S-Stop degrading me,” he attempted to growl, his voice breaking and turning more into a breathy pant, “Stop it or I’ll cum, mi amor. I’ll cum so fucking hard for you.” His whispered confession had you elevate a sinister smirk up your lips.

“Stop calling me ‘mi amor’,” you wrapped your right hand around his throat, your left perched on his shoulder as you sunk yourself down on him, “I’m not your love. You're a conniving and devious bastard, and I despise you.”

“Just like that, Mami,” he whimpered, hands falling to your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, “I know you hate me. I adore that about you. I wanted you for so long, and you’re so, so good.”

“At least your ears work, you arrogant prick,” you released your firm hold on his throat, glaring into his eyes as you continued to take more of him into you. You became more confident in riding his swollen cock, bouncing, writhing and grinding your slick cunt against his pelvis, “Maybe there is hope for you after all-.”

“-No, no,” he begged, pressing his throat against your palm, “No: I’m nauseating, I’m disgusting, I’m pathetic. Please, please choke me. Tell me how much you hate me. Ride my cock while you tell me you find me repulsive.” 

“Oh fuck, Doffy,” you bit back your moan, feeling the rapid approach of your second orgasm stampeed within your abdomen. You choked him harder, forcing his eyes to meet yours as you circled your hips on his cock. His eyes held firm to yours, feeling the tangible dislike against him from you. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes back in bliss, his balls sucked deep within his stomach the longer you rode him. 

“I abhor you,” you whined, feeling him hold back meeting your bobbed movements. You finally began encouraging him to thrust up into you, your motions now rhythmic and in perfect synchrony. 

“I adore you,” he whispered in return, placing his lips against your jaw and tenderly kissing you. 

“I f-fucking loathe you,” you felt the familiar sparks indicating the eruption of an impending orgasm. Your pussy began contracting around him, your walls beckoning him with rhythmic throbbing. 

Whimpering, your world came crashing like waves breaking down cinder blocks. You threw your head back, keening more so at the fact Doflamingo made you cum for a second time tonight. The first one was against your will, this one you ensured you were in control of. 

“I fucking l-love you,” he held his eyes against yours, his orbs glassy as they filled with tears, “I love you so fucking much,” he mewled in bliss as spurts of his hot cum splashed deep within you, “I-I-... I’m cumming, oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m c-cumming. You’re s-so good. I love you s-so fucking much. I love you.” 

He cried, hot tears of relief spilling down his cheeks as he sobbed through his accentuated release. His lip quivered, his highly emotive eyes looking almost innocent the longer he rocked his hips up into yours. You squeezed his throat, choking him as your pussy milked him of his large load. 

The spill of his seed dripped down your legs and onto his patterned leather pants. The blunt tip of his velvety cock continued to kiss your cervix, propelling you into a longer release. Your walls could barely contract around his cock due to the stretch, but each time Doffy’s cock released a squirt of his cum, it twitched back enough for your cunt to wring his shaft. 

The twin highs seemed to last an eternity. Spurts of his load continued mixing with your slick and Doflamingo’s prior saliva. You were not sure when exactly it happened, but you found yourself within an almost loving embrace within Doflamingo’s arms. His cock was sleeved completely within you to the hilt, your arms circling his shoulders as you both hid your faces in each other’s necks. His hands gripped your waist, his blonde eyelashes ticking your shoulder as he buried himself deeper within you. 

Sunk to the hilt, you remained that way until your thighs began to burn from holding your body up over his thighs. Your pussy began to ache, coming down from your high with his full length still buried within you. Unhooking your arms from his shoulders, you attempted to remove yourself from his embrace to no avail. He held you firmly, not enough to bruise, but not allowing any room for you to wriggle away from him. 

“Doflamingo, release me,” you barked at him, shoving his shoulders away in an attempt to reveal his eyes to you. 

He held you tighter. 

“Doflamingo, let me go,” you spat, trying again to flee from his steely grip. He gripped his elbows behind your back, holding you firmer. 

Your panic grew more frantic, your heart beating faster than it did when you rode through your bliss. 

“Doflamingo, you will break away from me this instant,” you pushed and shoved him with all your might, only managing to have your abdomen ache at being so full for so long. 

He refused. 

“Doflamingo, if you don’t free me from your grip right now; I’ll-,” Doflamingo murmured against your chest, halting your wriggling and frantic movements. 

“-But if I let you go, you’ll flee,” his voice whimpered, his chin anchoring against your chest and staring his blush-coloured orbs up at you. You felt yourself become breathless beneath the spell of his loving look, feeling all emotion pouring from his eyes onto you. 

“Yeah, that’s the point,” you attempted to break from his embrace, only causing Doflamingo to grip you tighter. 

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he massaged down your back, pressing on your hips firmly enough to lock you against him, “I meant every word I said. I love-.”

“-And I meant every word I said, Donquixote,” you winced against him, attempting to pry his hands off you by gripping his wrists. He was far stronger than you were, causing panic to rise within your chest, “I hate you.”

“Marry me.” 

Those words shocked you, causing you to snap your eyes up to meet his. Again, those ruby orbs held you captive. You couldn’t believe how expressive they were. 

His soul was raw behind those twin lanterns, illuminating his face with the innocence you were certain had long-since left him. Still, you remained firm - the softening of Doflamingo’s cock within you brought you crashing back to reality. 

“Never.” 

“Consider it,” he sighed, releasing your left thigh and cupping your cheek with his left hand, “Consider it, and you will want for nothing. That’s all I ask,” he rose from his stoop and pressed his forehead against yours, “That’s all I want. All I’ve only ever wanted.” 

Using this opportunity: you hastily rose to your feet, the crude squelch of Doflamingo’s flaccid cock exiting your slit prompting you to cringe more than the embarrassment you felt at his profession of love. You felt the mix of fluids seep out of your core, dripping down your legs and onto the floor. He called your name, wincing now he felt empty and unfulfilled without you wrapped around him. 

“No,” you retorted, bending down to recover your panties and pants. You wrapped your top around your chest to shield your body away from his eyes. 

“You would be my queen,” he tried again, leaning forward on his knees and looking up at you, “Queen of Dressrosa. Queen of my heart. I would have you rule beside me as an equal, mi amor-.”

“-I said ‘no’, Donquixote.” Your buttons from your shirt lay scattered on the floor, your eyes darting around while arguing whether they're worth collecting. 

“Please,” he whispered his soft beg, his palms finding the floor as he began to crawl towards you, “Please, I need you. I want you. I crave you. I would bleed for you, die for you, kill for you - just say you'll be mine.”

“Look,” you turned on your heel, glaring at him with enough animosity to halt his low stalking prowl, “The next time you attempt to drug me over dinner and accidentally drug yourself in my place,” you snarled, prompting Doffy’s eyes to fall half-lidded in adoration, “Do not call on me for aid, you won't find any empathy from me.”

You hurriedly thrust your panties and pants back over your sticky legs, tucking your shirt into them as Doflamingo sat back on his knees, kneeling in stunned silence. Without a further word, you made your way towards the large exit, only stopping your withdrawal when Doflamingo tried one final time to woo you. 

“You didn't even let me kiss you,” he whispered in a voice so soft, you halted in place to hear him. You turned your chin, glancing at him over your shoulder as he sat in somber silence. 

“If you think you're getting a kiss from me after all that-...” you began, fully turning to face him as his head lay hanging low to avoid your eyes. You sighed, finally in pity for a man who resorted to great lengths to gain your attention, “...you get one to show me your gratuity.”

Doflamingo perked up, his ruby eyes meeting with yours with the hope of a child being promised their greatest coveted prize. 

In a few hasty strides, you made your way back over to Doflamingo. He continued to kneel beneath you, cock still hanging limply over the waistband of his pants. You grimaced at the flaccid cock, noticing that its limp length was still well above the average size of the cocks you'd seen prior. 

You shook your head, taking Doflamingo's cheek in your palm and elevating his face to meet yours. Lips closing in a soft purse, you collected his plump lips beneath yours in a soft and tender kiss. Parting your lips, you gently grazed his mouth with a soft swirl of your tongue. He moaned against your lips, large hands perching on your hips and holding you firmly against him. 

Tilting your head, you bumped Doflamingo's chin with your own to deepen it. He sighed into your mouth, allowing you to initiate how much emotion you were willing to press into him. His lips felt warm, encumbering and loving, something you were not expecting to experience from any encounter with the King of Dressrosa. 

Even though he had confessed his love for you, the softness he was presenting you with was foreign in comparison to his harsh dictatorship. You swirled your hands behind his head, massaging his scalp in soothing circles. A happy chirp fled from his lips to yours, his smile evident as his tongue collided with yours. 

Breaking away from his embrace, your hands raked through his blonde hair affectionately. He hummed up at you, his blonde eyelashes fluttering beneath his half-hooded eyes. 

“I'll cherish the gift of your lips always, mi amor,” he sighed up, the sparkle in his ruby gaze. That title snapped you away from your daze, shaking your head and once again grimacing. 

“Never call me ‘mi amor’ again, asshole,” you spat hastily, refusing to allow him a semblance of your heart, “I'm not your love, I'll never be your love. You're fucking pathetic, and I hate you.”

“Stop being mean to me,” he licked his lips, his gaze growing dark, “I’m already starting to get hard.”

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: Okay, guys. I actually love here!

Ace: *has been finally able to connect to them* The fuck you're talking about? Grim needs you!

MC: Nah. Fr bro. I've got myself a baby goat. *moves the phone at Rollo*

Rollo: ...

Rollo: I'm not the goat they're referring to, but this. *showing the baby goat to the camera*

The baby goat: MEEEEHHH!

MC: *moves the phone back to them* Guys here are so mentally healthy.

MC: Except Rollo.

Rollo: *in the background* Excuse me?

Ace: Ohh... Okay, okay. I think I get it.

Ace: So you need to fix him?

MC: Yeah... I think? I mean, the Bell of Solace can't talk so I don't really know what she wants from me.

MC: Either therapy or marriage, right?

Rollo: What?

Ace: Bruh? What's with your obsession of emo boys?

MC: BWAHAHAHA!

Rollo: You should end that call now.

MC: We still have a few minutes before the class starts?

Rollo: The student council starts working before the classes even start. You should know that by now.

MC: I'm not part of the student council. The heck-

Rollo: You are now. *grabs the phone and hangs up*

Ace: ...

Epel: So...?

Ace: Yeah. We need to go there.

Deuce: How can they be convinced to stay there when it hasn't been a week?

Ace: They got tired being our therapist.

The secretary: You'll be doing my job from now on! Good luck! <3

MC: Ayo- Why?

The vice president: President Rollo wants you to learn the student council's tasks immediately.

MC: ...

MC: *looking at Rollo* Really?

Rollo: Yes.

MC: ...

MC: Or you just want to have an alone time?

The vice and the secretary: Pft-

Rollo: *frowns*

Rollo: You're disappointing me with your behavior.

MC: Your depression is a shame. Speak for yourself.

The vice president: Now, now. Fighting isn't good.

The secretary: That's right! Besides, you two always get along!

Rollo: *scoffs* Start working.

MC: Tch. Fine.

Lilia: I'm glad you're not mad that MC is studying in Noble Bell College.

Malleus: Why would I be? When they are sending me updates.

Lilia: Wait. Really?

Malleus: Yes. *shows him their recent chat*

MC: Find some free time so we can troll Rollo. :D

Lilia: ...

Lilia: *laughs*

[ghostofhyuck]

AN: Hey, hahaha it's my first time writing a suggestive, detailed make-out session so don't judge me lmao.

01:47 AM

"Hey beautiful," Mark grins as soon as the door closed.

Coming home to see you sitting on the couch, waiting for him despite the late night gives him energy even though he spent the whole day practicing for their concert. To add to that, he's also working on his solo too.

"Hey love," you giggled as you approached him. His arms automatically spread just so you could embrace him with ease. As soon as you crashed onto him, his arms wrapped around you tightly. He breathes onto your hair, smelling the vanilla-scent of your shampoo. Mark smiles fondly as he gives it a sweet peck.

"How's your practice?" you asked, looking up to him.

"Tiring, the kids' never ran out of energy! But it was a fun practice, hopefully we stay healthy until the tour ends," Mark explains.

"Is that so? Do you want to sleep now? I know you have a schedule tomorrow," you said with a concerned tone.

Mark thought about it for moment, but this is only one of the nights where he goes home to you. Especially when you're still awake. He often catches you sleeping when he arrives, and could only savor a few hours in the morning because he has to leave early too.

"I'm good, I just miss you baby," he confessed.

You smiled at him, brushing his hair fondly. "You miss me?"

"So so fucking much," he said. His voice deeper than before.

You only let out a small laugh when you felt his lips crashing onto yours. Mark can taste the peach lip balm of yours. Never mind that you already did your nightly lip care routine, all he wants is you.

You kissed him back, reciprocating the longing that you had to taste your lover's lips. Your arms draping around his shoulders so that you could pull him closer. While Mark's hands trailed down on your thighs, tapping it gently so that you could jumped onto him. His arms gripping your ass firmly as he carries you all the way to the couch.

Mark lays you down gently. He breaks away from the kiss making you whine quietly.

You saw how his eyes darkened, hands brushing away the stray hair that covered your face. Gently, he cups your left cheek. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

"Mark ---" and before you knew, his lips are on yours once again. It's sweet, intoxicating, probably something inside him grew a craving for you.

You couldn't help but to drown into the heat. Feeling things warming up as you can feel your lover's hands trailing around your body. You moaned as his tongue enters your mouth, savoring your taste more.

Mark's lips trailed down on your jaw, leaving trails of kisses on your neck, throat --- until he reached your shoulder, a part where you're sensitive the most. You could only inhale sharply as you can your lover bites your skin, sucking it, and leaving marks on it.

"M-mark," you couldn't help but to call out his name, your hands loosing its grip on his shoulders as you fall more into the pleasure. You could only close your eyes as you feel everything heating up more.

"Baby," Mark called out once again, he kisses you once again, much sloppy this time.

But your eyes widen when you felt Mark's hands trailing down your waist, tugging the waistband of your pajamas. Eyes wide, you lightly pushed Mark away from you.

"Wait, shit I'm sorry baby," Mark apologized immediately, realizing what he has done.

"No, no, it's okay," you answered back. "Things got heated up too."

"No, it's not okay, I crossed your boundaries."

You only smiled at your boyfriend. "Mark you didn't, I pushed you away and you got the signal, you stopped immediately."

Mark became quiet for a while. Guilt eating him up.

Despite the many times you two made out, you two never had sex because both of you decided to do it after marriage. It sound old-school but Mark respected that decision of yours when you first open it up.

Mark knows where his boundaries are and he never done things that would make you uncomfortable. He's satisfied with what you two had. There were only a few times he almost crossed the line but once you told him to stop, he immediately does, and that's one of the reason why you love Mark so much.

"I'm really, really, sorry baby," Mark said once again.

"One more sorry from you and you're ban from my kisses," you taunted.

"Okay, I'll stop," Mark said, even raising both of his hand as a sign of defeat.

You smiled once again, cupping his cheeks and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"I think we should sleep now," you told him. Thinking that things might go far if you two start another make-out session.

Mark only chuckles as he steals a kiss from you, "yeah we should just sleep."

Your boyfriend gets up from the couch first, and before you could move, Mark swings his arms around your legs and waist, carrying you bridal-style.

"Mark! I can walk you know?" you said to him, punching his shoulder lightly.

"Just practicing," Mark said.

You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

And before he answers, he kisses you once again. "For our wedding night."

[allfearstofallto]

hii! can i make a request?

I've been thinking about angsty things a bit. say if, reader got pregnant, would she hate it? how would scara/childe react? in my opinion, id like to think that scara thinks of this as a way to tie her down to him more, plus its canon he likes kids!! and as for childe i think he'd be very very happy since he has soooo many siblings, (maybe he wants a lot of kids too??)

and..what if reader miscarried? i have this thought of where scara would still be cold to her but give her breaks and more space than usual, but what if reader completely locks herself in and then when he confronts her about it they get into a huge argument, how would scara tackle that, would he resort to abusive tactics and would it increase readers hatred & distance more?

just a brainrot, you dont have to write about it if you're not comfy^_^

This took me so so so long!! I'm so sorry if you were waiting for it!!

I don't typically write for things like pregnancy because it makes me uncomfortable, but I'd be lying if I said I do not absolutely fucking adore angst and hopelessness.

Parasite

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI, Dark Content, Forced marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Mentions of Dub/Non-Con

A week late turned into two. Two turned into a month. A month turned into three. And three turned into unusual cravings for foods that didn't go together. Sickness and vomiting clouded the hours of your mornings. Dread filled your body the second you realized what this was. Stress makes your cycles late, you told yourself, stress makes your entire body change, and this was a stressful situation, but stress wasn't causing this, was it?

Scaramouche could tell the changes in you immediately. As someone who constantly kept tabs on your life, it was only fair to assume that he'd noticed your slight fluctuation in weight and lack of asking for your monthly cloths. When you were called into his office, you felt a hot flash all over your body, you assumed it was fear, but it could've also been nausea.

His office was a place filled with dread. The air in the room was too thick and worst of all, he was there. The room made you feel small, the only good thing about it was that he was usually too focused on his mile high stacks of paperwork. Except today. Today his razor sharp gaze was focused on your trembling form as you bowed to him, his eyes following down, then back up.

“Answer me honestly,” he began, hands planted on the wood in front of him, “Are you with child?”

If you could throw up again, you would. Of course, you knew all this time, but you never wanted to say it. You hoped, just hoped and prayed that maybe if you never acknowledged it, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream. But it was true. There was something disgusting living inside you. And it was his.

“I believe so, my lord,” the words couldn't even completely fall from your lips before you were a blubbering, sobbing mess of anguish and fear. Despite the fact that you were completely breaking down before him, he had a small smile on his face, like he was proud of what he'd done to you.

“That's good,” he said calmly, wiping away your tears and planting a forced kiss upon your face. His touch felt cold as ice, but his hands against you made you want to melt your skin away.

The reaction to the “good news” was immediate, whether that was good or bad was up in the air, but everything changed. The tight obi of all the kimono you owned would put too much pressure on your budding stomach, new one's were ordered to be ready as you grew more in size. Your diet was changed completely, less of the Inazuma raw delicacies and more lean meat and vegetables. Daily classes of calligraphy and tea ceremonies were switched to resting with your feet up or light stretching, everything to keep you happy and healthy during your pregnancy.

The biggest change was Scaramouche himself. A man filled with so much hatred and disgust, was suddenly being kinder. Or trying to at least. You watch him open his mouth to make a comment, only to shut it again in favor of saying something still rude, but less insulting.

The Scaramouche that believed that he could take your body whenever he pleased was long gone, even though that was what got you in this predicament in the first place. He'd taken to leaving you in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to sate his urges. He'd come back with cold damp hands and lay next to you, a protective hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you.

The day you saw blood between your legs and felt an aching pain in your stomach was a joyous one indeed. A part of you wanted to scream out in glee, but you didn't want to wake your already on edge husband. The blood that coated your fingers could only mean one thing. One good thing. It was gone. You were free of it. Almost immediately, the dark air that seemed to linger over your body vanished and you let out a sigh of relief.

Scaramouche was informed shortly before breakfast that same morning. You relayed the information to a maid, who then told him, whispering the words in his ear so quietly, it sounded like she was speaking gibberish. His face, his expression, changed to one shock, then horror, then pain. You didn't even know he could make such a face, yet there he was with tears in his eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” There was that tone again. The one you were used to. The anger and distaste for you in his voice. He slammed his fist down on the desk, turning his head away from you as his voice became high and breathy, so desperate for answers, “What did I do wrong?”

You stood in his office awkwardly, even this display from a person you hated, this display of agony was hurting you as well. You thought it would be funny. Seeing the man who pulled you from your home and forced you into marriage in pain was supposed to make you happy, but you felt your own chest clenching, felt your hands tremble.

“I-i suppose…I was stressed, my lord,” you muttered, his already labored breaths hitching at those words. The few months you were carrying that thing inside your body, was when he asked for less from you. He expected you to laze around all day and relax. For your body to fall into a daze like trance of naps and delicious food. He wanted happiness for both you and his child that you carried, yet you were still the most stressed you'd ever been in your entire life, knowing that he had something inside you. Something that would continue to fester and grow, until it eventually ate you alive.

He sat back in his office chair dejected, hurt, and empty. Scaramouche's normally sharp, glaring eyes were wide as he stared at the ceiling, body limp as he bit his lip, “Leave me,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. Had it not been for the quietness of the room, you wouldn't have heard him.

Leave him you did, closing the door as silently as possible and not lingering behind. You felt yourself finally stop tensing, telling yourself that all your woes were over, for now. The thing was gone. You were happy. For once, even if unintentionally, you'd won over your captor.

[fxtalitygod]

X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

Love.

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 3 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut

♡ Rated: T for Treachery 

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! 

♡ Chapter Warnings: Jungkook is really repressed, su*cidal thoughts (somewhat vague), cheating, masturbation (m), edging, mentions of substance abuse (alcohol), horny thoughts, public sex (kinda), lots of making out, dry humping, thigh fucking kinda (m), premature ejaculation(ish?), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (nope!)

♡ Word Count: 34.5k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Low by SZA— see masterlist for playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover @teawithhoneyandlemon and @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: This chapter was such a pain to get done 😭, but please enjoy this behemoth of a chapter! Nice and spicy with a side of tears! My specialty~ This is like the true part 1 of the series so ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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Jungkook yawned and tried to blink away the tears that had formed to soothe his stinging, dry eyes. A sigh escaped his lips before he turned his head to face the clock that sat ticking away on his nightstand. 

6:58am.

Nearly a whole hour until his phone would begin buzzing and the drum solo he set as his alarm would go off. He still had some time to get the sleep he needed, yet no matter what he did, Jungkook couldn’t drift off like he wanted to. He had a long day ahead of him, normally he would never wake up this early, but today of all days, this had to happen.

Jungkook had gone to bed thinking about you. It started off simple, it was like a routine. He would usually take some time to establish a checklist for his next day, especially during times like these where he was normally so busy. Yuri had rested peacefully beside him while he stared at the ceiling trying to remember everything he had planned for tomorrow. It was just meant to be a reminder to himself that he couldn’t go home early, that he couldn’t forget to meet you after work, that he needed to make sure to text the chef not to wait on him to make it home, and that he had to tell Yuri he wasn’t going to be back ‘till late, not that she really even cared. But the second you entered his train of thought, that was enough to keep you in his head, and in consequence, the moments with you the day before started replaying in his mind as he tried to finally close his eyes and go to sleep.

He thought about how impressive you were during your presentation. You were settling into your new role so well; it was astounding to witness. You were always so poised, confident, and everyone admired you, he did too. Later that day, you both would be working alone together. Maybe it was the time he could ask you how you do it.

Then his mind drifted to his brief moment he spent talking to you. Why was he so awkward? The embarrassment made him bury his head in the pillow, a sad attempt to shield himself from the memory of your confused gaze meeting his eyes while his panicked brain tried to find the words he wanted to say. Why did he always find it hard to speak to you like a normal person? It was about work and he’d even practiced what to say during the meeting. However, like always, the minute he tapped your shoulder and you turned around to look at him, his brain just went blank.

That made him think about you even more, your expression as he stumbled over his words while he asked you to stay late with him. He didn’t know when it happened, but his attention had drifted from your face and zoomed in on the purple blouse you wore yesterday— you had looked really good. 

With thoughts of you on his mind, finally Jungkook was able to turn his brain off to the point he could sleep for a few hours. However, even in his slumber, he wasn’t safe from being bombarded with thoughts of you and your meeting. His tired mind thought about your blouse and running the silk between his fingers. He imagined your face, your red-tinted lips, and he thought about how confident you were during the presentation. You had led the meeting so well despite how quickly he knew you had to prepare for it. 

He had no idea how it happened, but instead of him sitting back and watching you from the head of the table like he remembered, suddenly he was facing the board room; you were now in front of him, on the table, and in his arms. Your skirt was bunched around your waist— he hadn’t seen it happen, but he knew it was because of him. Your lips were hastily chasing his and your arms were wrapped around his neck, clutching on to him for dear life as he pounded into you right there on the meeting table.

You made such pretty sounds for him— he wished he could recall them better when he woke up, all his hazy mind could remember in good detail was how nice it felt to be inside you. You felt so good, every move he made inside your warmth had him feeling like he was on the verge of losing his mind. Tears filled his eyes quicker than he thought possible— but then, he was actually crying.

Jungkook had pulled away. He didn’t know when, but suddenly he was staring at the blurred faces of all the executives that were in the meeting room.

“He’s pathetic.”

“I can’t believe he’s cheating on his wife.”

“He’s just like his parents.”

“Bastard.”

“Why would we trust someone like him to run the company?”

He couldn’t pick apart the voices, but the prosecution was distinct, and he heard every word so clearly. They never moved, he couldn’t even see their faces, but their words had tears rolling down his cheeks like a riverbank after a summer storm. They wouldn’t stop, but neither could he because you just felt so fucking good he could care less about what they say at this point. Jungkook was so desperate, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were in the middle of the most devastating, earth-shattering, cosmic event where the walls were crumbling around him and the floor was ready to swallow him whole; nothing was going to stop him from feeling you.

Nevertheless, the voices were all so loud in the background, it was mind numbing. He just wanted to enjoy this, but he knew he didn’t deserve to. They were right after all, what was he doing?! His body wanted it more than words could describe, but his mind was constantly telling him he shouldn’t do this, that he needed to listen and remember his wife, to remember Yuri, except he couldn’t. The fact that the judgmental remarks of the executives weren’t enough to stop him in his quest to have you, spoke volumes, and it just made the ache in his heart even worse.

Jungkook yearned to remember more of you instead of the accusations, like how it felt to have you that close. He wished he took in every detail— your expression as he pushed inside you, your lips against his, or recalled if he got the chance to kiss the exposed skin revealed by your off-the-shoulder, purple blouse like he had wanted to all day.

When he woke up, his room was still dark, his face was wet with sweat and tears, and he was painfully hard. It hurt so much, Jungkook panicked at first as he reached under the cover hoping his sinful dream hadn’t resulted in a mess— Yuri would hate him so much if it did. That happened once and she’d screamed at him all day about how disgusting he was. But no, this wasn’t that type of dream, but a dream nonetheless that created a horrible problem.

In desperation, Jungkook looked over to Yuri, who was still sleeping next to him, and considered waking her up to help him. Would she? He’s tried his best to do everything she asked, but he knew it would only make her hate him further.

Everything Jungkook did made her hate him even more.

And fixing this himself was off the table— he couldn’t stoop to a level that low. He’d done well for so long, he wouldn’t give up now; it’s what he kept telling himself, but everything inside his body was screaming for him to run to the bathroom and fix this. But how pitiful would that be?

He couldn’t, he just fucking couldn’t. It’s just been so long, too long…

Jungkook both wished and dreaded for Yuri to wake up. He didn’t want her to see him like this, he knew he looked pitiful right now, but he knew she’d make him forget about his dream in no time.

There was no excuse, the only person who he should be fantasizing about is his wife; but you, you just won’t leave him alone. With your short skirts, pretty red lips, and unwavering confidence. It’s only gotten worse as the months have passed— so much worse, he could hardly look at you without remembering what his sinful imagination had pictured of you. He was so disgusting, so fucking disgusting.

Every day he hoped Yuri would put him out his misery— in his most desperate moments, he’d thought about telling her what’s filled his imagination, wishing that it would make her fuck the thoughts of his coworker out of him.

His frustration has affected his marriage, he knew that. He’d been so irritable these days, how in the world could he be the perfect husband if he really couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for five seconds? But he was trying, he really was, but not hard enough.

That’s why he’d been laying here for the last twenty minutes. He had to be on his best behavior, he had to show Yuri he really was trying— no matter how much it hurt, he wouldn’t give into such deplorable urges. He wanted to be good for her. 

At first, Jungkook tried to go back to sleep. The minute he opened his eyes and felt his problem, he’d just hope going back to bed would be the solution. He’d tried to get comfortable, pulling up the covers again, but the minute he shut his eyes all he could see was you and your bunched up skirt while he pounded you into the table.

Jungkook hated sleeping on his stomach, he never knew why he ended up like that when he’d fallen asleep lying on his back or his side sometimes— but the position had his hips hastily chasing into the mattress searching for some type of friction. And it only got worse as he imagined you laying right underneath him.

He flipped over so he was on his back, but his pajama pants and even the covers caused enough friction for his mind to go back to the dream. Your red lips against his, bodies hot and heavy, panting and pleading for—

He’s spent the last twenty minutes tossing and turning, trying to force himself to go back to sleep. He had a long day ahead of him, he needed to sleep, but it just hurt so fucking much. He wanted to cum— he couldn’t even remember the last time he did that. Has it really been that long since Yuri came back from that New Years Party?

Fuck, he wanted to be good, he’d wait, he’d wait until she wanted him again, but—

Tears pricked Jungkook’s eyes as his hand slid underneath his shirt, feeling his hot skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. 

But it just hurt so much. He really shouldn’t be doing this.

Jungkook thought about Yuri, how much he wished she was awake. She was wearing those tiny shorts again, the ones she knew drove him crazy. If things were different, if he was a better husband, how nice it would have been to just push her shorts slightly to the side— feel her warmth, Yuri always felt so good.

Jungkook wouldn’t even have the patience to get on top, his neediness only allowed for him to swiftly pull his pants down, get one hand under her tank top, and use the other to push her shorts slightly to the side as he’d take her.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t stop his mouth or his hand as it started playing with the waistband of his pants. But you and your damn purple blouse. The one that showed off your shoulders and collarbones. Jungkook imagined in his dream that he’d kissed, sucked, and painted them with small bruises. Maybe you would have made more of those pretty sounds—

Jungkook stared wide eyed at the ceiling as he felt his hand slip past his waistband and grasp onto his throbbing length.

Oh no.

The tears quickly started welling up in his eyes again.

He didn’t even have the decency to commit such an act in private. The bathroom was just right there, but in the moment it felt so far away as he slowly started moving his hand. Jungkook tried his best to choke back the moan as his fingers made it to the tip, he was so sensitive— it felt so wrong, but all he could picture as they came back down was you on that table.

Your blouse, your skirt bunched up, your lips on his, your warmth— fuck, why did something so wrong feel so good? Jungkook tried to tell himself this was just to relieve the pain, but you just wouldn’t let him go.

“Oh no…” He tried to sob quietly as his hand started speeding up. He was so fucking pathetic. Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough, or maybe Yuri was just waking up, she’d normally be in the shower before his alarm even went off. Yuri steadily lifted her head and turned to face him.

“Jungkook, what the hell?” She grumbled. She sounded tired, maybe he really had been too loud.

He looked at her, but his vision became blurry as the tears in his eyes grew heavier. He still was able to see her eyes dart down to the tent under the comforter. He probably looked like a deer trapped in headlights as his whole body froze.

“What are you doing?!” She looked distraught.

He hurriedly tried to blink away the tears. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe that dream had actually made him lose his mind, but that burn, that need, just wasn’t subsiding like he knew it should.

“Yuri, please…” His voice was soft, but he was begging.

Yuri pulled back the covers and was able to see in as much glory as the sunrise would allow, his hand that had slipped into his pajama pants, and the hand that was still underneath his shirt. Jungkook had never felt more pathetic, but his body pleaded, no, begged for more.

Yuri just continued to stare at him.

“I had a dream and— I tried so hard to go back to sleep— so hard, I promise I really did.” He was trying his best not to cry but he could feel the hatred brewing behind her dark gaze. He knew she was disappointed. How does he always fuck everything up?

He probably would have crumbled into pieces and started bawling right then and there if her hands didn’t come up and grab his wrists. He was so confused, but she didn’t give him much time to process as she pinned his hands over his head and climbed into his lap— sitting right where he needed her.

He probably could have come by that action alone if only he wasn’t so ashamed.

“Yuri!” He gasped. She was so close, he could feel her so well, those fucking shorts not doing much at all, it was taking everything in him to not rip them off.

“You’re such a mess.” She mumbled, looking down at him.

“I know… I’m sorry…” He wanted her to forgive him just this once. 

Jungkook almost screamed when he felt her hips rock slowly, making him hurriedly chase into hers. 

“Please, please, please!” He moaned. His whole body burned, ached, pleaded— he wanted so much more.

“Mmmm, you know how pathetic you look like this?” Yuri chuckled as she ground down a little harder. He couldn’t even imagine how he looked right now.

“I’m so sorry.” He cried, because he genuinely was. He was so sorry she had to be married to him.

“What is it that you want anyway?” She asked like it wasn’t obvious with how hard he was underneath her. He was going to go crazy at this point.

“It’s been so long since we— I— please— I want to fuck you so badly— it hurts so much.” Jungkook normally wasn’t so blunt, but his lust-filled mind only allowed for the equivalent of getting on his knees and begging her to forgive him just this once and put him out of his misery.

It’s been ten months.

Yuri laughed but sped up her pace.

“Fuck!” Jungkook whined, his eyes welling up all over again. He wished he could touch her; his hands running under her tank top or grabbing onto her waist as he pushed her shorts to the side so he could finally feel her. What he would have given to do that.

“Whose fault is that? It was your dick that wouldn’t work the last time.” She was laughing at him. His eyes burned from the tears that continued to fill his eyes, but he needed more.

She was right. It was his fault. Why couldn’t he just get his shit together that day? He knew he wouldn’t get another chance like that again, yet he still couldn’t do it. It was embarrassing.

Jungkook looked intently at where their bodies connected. His erection was so obvious, he wasn’t wearing any underwear so he could clearly see it as she ran over his length. Every time she’d rock forward the tip would almost push past the waistband, red, angry, and staring back at him with shame. He whined at the sight. He couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like if he could take off his pants and she wasn’t wearing those shorts.

She really would feel so good… how the hell did he pass this up back in April?

“I’m sorry.” That’s the only thing he could do, apologize. He felt so bad.

“And you’re crying, again?” She laughed in disbelief. Yes, yes he was; both in the fact he was ashamed, but she’d also been working him far longer than his deprived mind could take, and he wanted to finish. He only needed a little more.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Her voice was laced with honey, yet reeked of poison. She was so upset at him. Jungkook couldn’t even look at her anymore, he just hurriedly nodded, hoping she’d understand.

“You could cum just from this?” Yuri asked like she was actually curious.

“I will, soon.” There was no point in hiding it.  “I wish I could be inside you though— but I’ll take anything if you’ll let me finish.” How badly he wished she’d let him push her shorts to the side, but that didn’t matter anymore. All he needed was to be done with this pent-up frustration, maybe then he could get himself together again. 

This seemed to interest Yuri in some way, because she finally picked up the pace and started grinding on top of him. The tears spilled from Jungkook’s eyes as his whole body prepared for the release he craved more than anything right now. 

“Yuri please, please, please, please!” Jungkook cried and he couldn’t repeat it enough times for her to get it. He was close and all he could ask for was her forgiveness just this once. He knew this was his fault and he’d try and make it up to her in any way he could. 

He was so close, so fucking close— so hot, this position was so hot. He desperately wanted to touch her, but he liked being underneath her like this.

He only tried to hold back for a second, hoping at the last minute she’d hurl those stupid shorts across the room, get a condom, and he’d finally feel her like he’d been wanting for months. However, that only lasted for a second before he was sure he was about to spiral off the edge he craved. But it didn’t matter how much Jungkook pleaded, because right when his cries couldn’t get any more mangled and desperate, she stopped. She stopped and was off his lap before he could hardly comprehend his orgasm was snatched away. 

Yuri didn’t say much for once. She just hopped off the bed and looked at him for a little while.

“Somehow you keep getting more pitiful. Get your shit together, Jeon. This will never work if you don’t.” Was all she said with a dramatic eye roll, before she was marching out of the bedroom and leaving Jungkook alone.

Again.

Jungkook just sat there for a second, trying to comprehend what just happened. But his body didn’t allow for much because he still felt like he was five seconds away from exploding.

He hurriedly scurried over to the bathroom and set the shower to the coldest setting possible, he didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before jumping in.

As the cold water soaked his hair, his clothes, and finally started to cool his burning skin, that’s when the real tears began to flow. Because no cold water could stop how much he wanted to reach down and finish himself off. It would be so easy now that he was alone, but Jungkook couldn’t allow himself to stoop so low. 

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He’s already disappointed her so much. 

Jungkook let himself sink to the floor.

He felt as if he was incapable of being a good husband; really, a good person. He was awful. Jungkook was such a disappointment, a failure, a pathetic human being who only brought agony to the people he cared about the most. He was making everyone’s lives so fucking miserable…

Yuri deserved a good husband, it shouldn’t be that hard to at least be decent, yet he couldn’t even do just that. He got hard while imagining fucking his coworker and he had expected his wife to fix the problem?! It was hilarious, he deserved the punishment, worse really. When would he learn to be good? That’s all Yuri expected of him, but—

Jungkook tried to be as quiet as possible while the freezing water poured over his head and washed away the tears that just wouldn’t stop. He wanted to disappear. That would make everything so much easier. All he did was cause pain.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook stared at the coffee maker as the dark liquid slowly dripped into the cup. He wondered how he was going to make it through the day only running on three hours of sleep. It would be horrible if he passed out in front of you later.

His whole body felt heavy, just standing up was hard as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Coffee should help— at least it should give him enough energy to make it to work before he could make another cup to push him through the day.

He couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you.

You.

Jungkook scoffed as he suddenly thought back to his dream— nightmare really. Oddly enough, he was used to it at this point. This wasn’t the first time you’d taken over his dreams, you had a terrible habit of filling his mind even when he was fast asleep. You seem to love being in his head.

It was a little more recently that the dreams started, but his mind loved making up scenarios anytime he’d see you in the office.

He couldn’t even remember when it began anymore.

Had it been since you’d spilled coffee all over him? Was it then? All he knew was that you pissed him off for a reason he didn’t even know, not then, not now. 

Why were you so pretty? Why did he think you were pretty? He had a wife!

Maybe if you had met any other day he would have had no problem with you, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed you at all, but you met at the wrong time on the wrong day. At first, there was a bit of resentment— he had never hated you, but your first impression left a mark where a wound already existed. Seeing you reminded him of that terrible day and, for a little while, he made it his mission to give you a hard time.

It was petty, he knew that. You literally did nothing wrong. He knew it was only an accident, but there was something about you… at first you just made him upset. The reasons now have morphed into something more complex, something he’s desperately been trying to figure out to get you out of his head. It didn’t make any sense why every time he’d look at you he wanted to pull you so close that your atoms would defy physics and meet at the quantum level. He wanted you, badly, so fucking badly that he was honestly a little worried about later’s meeting.

Jungkook would never act on anything, but he wasn’t sure if he could be alone with you and not lose his mind. How could he not? Everything about you was like candy handed out by a guy in a white van. Enticing, but dangerous, far worse than what his naive brain could comprehend.

His own anger made things worse. He should have known just seeing what you were like on your very first day. No matter what Jungkook seemed to throw at you, you never once faltered, never complained, you absolutely crushed the assignments he’d give you. He was so amazed. You were so self-assured, confident, and meticulous. 

Everything he wasn’t.

Jungkook would be in meetings trying to stop himself from fawning anytime you’d speak. You were amazing, and everything about you just aroused him in a way that shouldn’t be possible. It frustrated him so much, he was fucking married.

He was a husband. He had a wife. He couldn’t forget that.

Jungkook tried to shake himself out of it and focus back on the task at hand— coffee, something he desperately needed before he passed out on the floor. He'd taken up the job of making coffee for him and Yuri. She hadn’t asked him to, but he was hoping this would be a nice peace offering for earlier.

He’d worked part time as a barista throughout his first two years of college. How he managed school, gigs, part time jobs, and Golden Tech, was something he couldn’t even comprehend anymore. But while he was there, he did get the opportunity to learn how to make those cute drinks most people would only be able to get at coffee shops.

However, he went for the classics today. 

Yuri loved Americanos, iced when it was hotter, but the chill November weather begged for a warmer drink. Jungkook couldn’t handle bitter drinks, he didn’t even like coffee until his schedule forced him to develop a need for it before he even attempted to go outside. Still, he preferred sweeter drinks with milk, sugar, or so much creamer you couldn’t even taste the coffee anymore. Today though, he needed something a little more intense to make sure he wouldn’t pass out at his desk. 

He didn’t have time to nap, things were so hectic as they neared the end of the quarter and tried to prepare for next year. He was the overseer of all of this for their department and was more needed than ever.

A latte is what he settled with. He made it fancy too, using the milk to draw a heart over the shots of espresso because why the fuck not? He didn’t have much to smile about these days, why not add a heart to his coffee?

Americanos didn't offer the chance for a cute design, so instead he focused on trying to get the ratios right so it’d be perfect for his wife. 

Jungkook had just finished pouring the hot water into her mug, when he heard Yuri’s clicking heels as she made her way into the room. She was wearing a short, black, sweater dress, with her shoulders exposed just like your blouse had been yesterday.

His cheeks flushed the longer he looked. It was like she was trying to kill him. That shower had not worked like he’d hoped.

He coughed to keep himself from staring. “You won’t be cold?” He asked, hoping to keep his mind busy.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“What?” Yuri scowled. He could sense her irritation immediately.

“I— I just saw it was going to be really cold today— 5 degrees actually, and it’s going to rain. I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He fretted as he saw Yuri roll her eyes before taking a seat on one of the barstools. 

“Don’t boss me around.” She grumbled. 

Jungkook froze as the guilt washed over him. He didn’t mean it to sound that way, but of course he couldn’t effectively communicate that he was just worried about her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, still clearly disgruntled as she rested her head on her hand. Jungkook suddenly remembered the coffee and hastily went to grab her mug.

“I made you coffee…” He attempted to smile as he placed it in front of her. He hurriedly grabbed his own before taking a seat, making sure he was far away enough to leave a chair in between them.

For a second, she just stared down at the mug, but then her eyes moved to his briefly. He probably looked desperate as he waited to see if she’d accept the offering. He felt like he was waiting for an eternity, but eventually Yuri just sighed before she picked it up.

Jungkook tried to subtly watch her face as she took her first sip. He made a silent prayer to whomever would listen that she would enjoy it, but her expression was unreadable as she set the cup down. Yuri didn’t say anything that gave him any type of clue into her thoughts. It wasn’t good or bad… but it was better than her spitting it out, throwing her cup on the floor, and saying she was better off without him.

Instead of worrying about it too much, he took a sip of his latte, and his brows furrowed as the taste relished in his mouth. It was pretty good for an espresso. He gave himself a mental pat on the back knowing at least he did a nice job on his own.

A few minutes passed by, the steady silence started filling the room and grew more unbearable.

“Are you going to the gym today?” Yuri asked, not bothering to look at him. He didn’t mind, he couldn’t handle meeting her eyes right now.

Jungkook sadly laughed at the mention of it. “No. Things are hectic right now and I have a lot of work today. I’m trying to get there a little early.” He said, taking another sip of his latte. Normally, the first thing Jungkook would do in the morning was head to the gym after he had a bit of caffeine in his system. He always found it a great way to wake himself up. However, the hecticness of his schedule has fucked up his gym routine so much that he’d barely had time to go lately.

Yuri didn’t respond to that.

“What about your plans today?” Jungkook tried inquiring.

Yuri sipped her coffee lightly before setting it down. “I’m going to Busan for a shoot. I’ll be back late— probably not till early morning.”

Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his heart sank knowing she wouldn’t be home later. He had wanted to talk after giving her some time to cool off and properly apologize for what happened this morning.  

“Hopefully they won’t make you work too late.” Jungkook tried to smile at her, but instead he was met with the sight of her blank gaze focused more on the kitchen rather than her own husband who was beside her. He resisted every urge in him to pull her close— a hug, an arm over her shoulder, anything to make this better. But he fought it, knowing that it would only dig himself deeper into the hole he created.

Silence, not even a chuckle.

“I’ll be home late too by the way. I have to work overtime with a coworker, so…” His words were drowned in his latte as he brought it up to his lips.

Yuri, once again, didn’t say anything. As the seconds continued to tick by, Jungkook couldn’t easily brush it off this time around. He wished she would plead for him to come home as soon as he could, and then complain about work always getting in the way of their relationship. Maybe she could even question him entirely about the coworker he had mentioned. Anything, he just wanted his wife to speak to him. Yuri was upset. He hated the silence. Why couldn’t he just be better?

“Yuri, I’m sorry for earlier.” Jungkook’s voice was shaky as he finally broke the awkward tension. 

“I don’t know what came over me. I just— Yuri, I miss you.” Jungkook turned to face her. He reached out and grabbed her hand that was sitting on the countertop.

“I miss you so much, I’m sorry if I woke you up earlier, sorry you had to see that.” He probably would never recover from the embarrassment, but then he thought about her on his lap and how he nearly blew his load right there. He missed her, why did things always need to be like this?

She still didn’t say anything. 

“I’m trying, I promise— I’ll be better…” His eyes started to sting, he knew he was moments away from crying again.

“How long have you been giving that excuse?” Yuri finally said as she let out a dark chuckle. As soon as the words hit his ears, he instantly felt bad for even saying anything. She was right— she was always right.

“Yuri—“ Before he could say anything else, she abruptly hopped off the barstool.

“Jungkook, I'm not in the mood today.” Yuri grumbled as she grabbed her mug.

She was never in the mood to talk about anything. Jungkook knew he should be focused on trying to apologize for his despicable actions this morning, but her words quickly lit a flame he couldn’t extinguish. She was never in the mood to deal with him, to deal with anything that involved them as a couple.  

“So that’s it then?” Jungkook huffed, but his face was wet. Embarrassing. 

Yuri stopped in her tracks.

“You’re not going to stay? We’re never here together in the mornings— you don’t want to sit here and talk with me, nothing?!” He was upset because he was coming face to face with the reality that his wife hated spending time with him. He knew that already, but seeing her walking away so easily from the one time they were up together in the morning, was enough to make him snap.

“Why is it such a crime that I want to spend time with you?” He cried as he stared at her when she still hadn’t said anything. He usually never got to talk this long before she had something to say. 

It was finally then that Yuri turned around.

“And why would I want to do that?” She said with the same dark laugh as before.

“I’m trying Yuri, so fucking hard. I—I—“ And he had nothing to say. Why would she want to be with him? Just look at what happened this morning. 

“Jungkook, I told you I’m not in the mood for this— I have places to be.” She sighed and turned away again.

Jungkook watched as she dumped her coffee into the sink.

“It was shit by the way!” She made sure he knew this. That was the last thing she said before heading back to their bedroom.

Jungkook tried his best to quickly wipe away the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling. Her words weren’t surprising, and he deserved them more than ever. He really was out of line. He was pathetic, so, so, so pathetic— why would she ever want to be with him?

However, for some reason, the thing that kept replaying in his mind was how easily she chucked the coffee he had worked so hard on trying to make perfect. The one thing he thought he could do right for her, and of course he failed. He was just one big fucking failure.

Jungkook attempted to take another sip of his own drink, but the taste was completely different than what he had remembered. The bitterness made him nearly gag and it took everything in him not to scream. Instead, the tears ran harder down his face as he quickly got up to throw his latte away too.

He couldn’t do anything right.

•────•──────────•────•

Things have been hectic these days. You were managing and making sure all of the numbers were being met for the holiday promotions, and also working hard to prepare for the next quarter with the teams.

This was the first time you’ve been managing by yourself this long. Director Son would take a day off occasionally when he had to leave the office for meetings at other companies— twice since you had been promoted, but handling an entire week on your own was a challenge you honestly weren’t sure you were qualified for. But there was no way you’d let anyone else know that. Instead, you put on a brave face and did your absolute best.

Today was hectic, and workwise, not really that interesting. Some meetings, assignments you needed to do, tasks you had to handle, it all mainly consisted of what you would typically do every day. However, there was an uneasiness in the air from the minute you woke up and thought about the fact that you were going to be working overtime with Jungkook. It was strange, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous.

Maybe it was simply the fact that you were going to be alone with your boss for the first time— you’ve never really hung out with the guy before, and any brief conversation you’ve shared has always been so awkward. You wondered if he genuinely might not like you or something, that it might go beyond pettiness over an incident that happened over two years ago at this point. You’d never been rude to him (at least not to his face), so you had no idea where that would have come from. You figured it had to be the coffee incident still biting you in the ass. Director Son had told you prior to his absence that your workload was still abnormally high in comparison to what had been expected of the last associate director. 

Things hadn’t changed besides your feelings being a bit more complicated. Did you like Jeon Jungkook? No, he was still a major dickhead for singling you out over an accident. But were you worried about him? All the time lately.

As much as you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’d get assigned more work, you kept your cool because maybe— maybe things weren’t as they seemed.

Even though it was always awkward, Jungkook was never mean to you whenever you talked to each other. He would smile sometimes, and you’d joke around with each other occasionally. He was pretty shy— you noticed that almost immediately, he blushed a lot which always made you feel a little funny. 

It was when you wouldn’t see each other when he’d get back to being unreasonably petty. Maybe the sad boy act was a trap to make you accept his cruelness out of pity. Maybe, or maybe not. The chance was enough for you, so you settled with— you still didn’t like him, but with more caution. You needed more evidence, and today was a great day to collect findings and investigate further— with you both spending hours alone with each other, it would hopefully give you enough time to see his true colors. 

Just leading up to your meeting, things were already starting to get a little weird to say the least. You both worked more closely than usual, and anytime you’d talk with another executive, or you worked on the mountain that was your workload, you always felt stared at.

You liked to think you had a secret pair of eyes in the back of your head because you could always tell when someone was looking at you. Your senses were going off like crazy today, and every time you’d turn to check, you’d see him staring at you.

It could’ve been because you both had plans later. You never once found yourself creeped out by his staring. He reminded you of Bambi at the way his eyes sparkled in the light, and just how bewildered he looked by your mere existence.

You hated to admit it, but it was almost cute?

You had no issue meeting his gaze— at first, because you were a little confused by what was happening, but then you noticed the way his face would light up before he quickly turned away, visibly flustered, so you just kept doing it for fun.

Then, there was the incident on the roof…

You needed to find him to get him to sign some papers. You had gone to his office first— he wasn’t there, so you asked Secretary Yu— she didn’t know where he was, so you were left wandering the floor, asking around, trying to see if anyone had seen him. Luckily, Hoseok came to the rescue as you wandered through marketing trying to find him— he told you he had seen him in the elevator when he went to deliver something upstairs. 

“He said he was on his lunch break. I think he was heading to the roof, maybe?” Hoseok shrugged.

The roof?

You tried to ignore the way you felt your stomach drop. There could be a perfectly reasonable excuse for why he would be up there. The actual rooftop of the building was reachable only by maintenance, but there was a terrace a few stories down that everyone at the office referred to as ‘the roof.’ It didn’t have much up there— a few tables and chairs where people could lounge around, and it also had these beautiful trees and greenery that somehow managed to grow that high up on a building.

It was a popular spot during the warmer months, and maybe if today were a nice day, you wouldn’t be as worried, but it was freezing outside. Just walking from your bus stop, which was just down the street, to the building’s entrance, you swore your nose would fall off before you even reached the door.

What business would he have on the roof in November?

That’s why you said a hurried goodbye to Hoseok and nearly ran to the elevator. Maybe this was all in your head, and maybe you had a bad habit of thinking the worst— but your worry had saved someone before. Propelled by your belief that there was even the slightest chance of something bad happening, you never once slowed down as you made your way to the elevators. You hurriedly pressed the floor button, believing it would somehow make it go faster, and you nearly tripped over your heels trying to rush down the short hallway to the door.

As soon as you opened it, the chill air almost blew you away. Your stockings and your white button-up didn’t do much to protect you from the cold, but you persevered anyway. 

You didn’t immediately see him out there, so you hastily made your way further around the terrace. Your panic only grew worse with each step you took until you rounded the corner and a silhouette began appearing. It was Jungkook. You took a second to let out a sigh of relief, because at least things weren’t as bad as you thought or certainly could have been, but as you stood there, you noticed his hand come up to wipe his eyes.

He wasn’t crying… was he?

“Director Jeon!” You didn’t hesitate to make your presence known, feeling weird just watching him like this.

At your voice, he turned around, and for a split second you saw it, you saw his sad eyes and the way his face glistened with tears. However, it wasn’t long, and he hurriedly used his sleeve to wipe his face.

“What are you doing out here?! It’s freezing!” You exclaimed as you started making your way towards him. You tried to hold up the papers you were carrying to block the wind, but they merely fluttered before folding over in your hand.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He tried to say over the sound of the wind rushing past. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed to see you or not.

“I had papers I needed—” Before you could finish, he was approaching you and grabbing your wrist to lead you both back to the door.

You looked at him, then his hand on your wrist, then back at him, and then your wrist again. The more you looked, the more you felt your face grow hotter. Part of you wanted to scream and tell him to let go, but you never did, honestly too stunned to do anything but let him lead you away. He yanked the door open, pulling you back into the short hallway.

As soon as the door closed behind you, he finally let go, and you had to take a second to remind yourself to breathe, because what the fuck was that?

“Sorry, it’s freezing out there— I didn’t want you catching a cold.” He laughed shyly, and it was then that you realized how close he was standing. 

The hallway was short and not very wide. It was maybe big enough for two people to stand side by side with a little room left so they wouldn’t be scraping against the wall. But you and Jungkook were facing each other, so there was no need to be this close. You wondered if there was even a foot in between you.

You took a second to look at the way Jungkook was leaning against the door. A slight smile was on his face, but standing this close, you could see the way his eyes were a little red.

“I should be saying that to you. What were you doing out there?” You asked, hoping there was some reasonable answer to this. His smile slowly faded, and it’s like in an instant you saw the dark cloud that had managed to form above his head materialize right in front of your eyes. It rained and stormed down on him with a concerning ferocity, yet he never seemed to acknowledge the way the mood had shifted. 

“I— just needed some fresh air.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, almost like his mind was elsewhere.

“Fresh air without a coat?” You questioned after noticing he was only wearing his suit jacket.

“You got me there…” He chuckled sadly. You looked at him worriedly. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask if he was ok, but once again you found yourself lost for words.

“Um, you said you needed me for something?” Jungkook said, breaking the growing silence.

You almost completely forgot why you came up here. You looked down at the papers in your hand and waved them around. “Right, I just needed you to sign the proposal we talked about in the meeting earlier.”

“Ah right, I see— do you have a—“ he didn’t even need to finish before you were whipping out the pen you kept in the pocket of your shirt.

He smiled at your eagerness before taking your pen and the papers. You watched as he scanned over them, making sure everything was just as discussed, before putting the papers against the door and signing them.

For some reason as you watched him sign his name, it almost made you think about a celebrity signing autographs in the fancy way he wrote the characters. But that only led your eyes to his face, and then you were staring at him, observing him.

You noticed he was still a little pink, you weren’t sure if it was from crying or the cold outside. At some point he flicked his hair out of his face so you could finally see his eyes a little better and you were quick to notice the tinge of red, and his face seemed a little wet around his eyes. It instantly confirmed he had been crying earlier, worrying you further. 

His hair had gotten so long now, his bangs brushing softly against his cheeks, and the rest of his dark locks sat prettily just over his shoulders. It was probably long enough that he could very easily tie it up if he wanted. As he concentrated on the documents, you could even see that little mole make an appearance once again as he bit his lip.

It seems you weren’t the only one with eyes in the back of your head, because he turned to meet your gaze.

“I’m almost done.” He hurriedly reassured, and it was only then that you realized your staring might be rushing him.

You turned away so you were looking at the golden doors of the elevator, your face on fire again. It felt like a century as the silence painfully lingered in the air, but eventually he handed back the papers.

“I’m sorry you had to come looking for me. I wouldn’t have taken a break if I knew.” He genuinely seemed sorry. How could this be the same man who's been petty towards you since day one? How?! The Jungkook you had constructed in your mind over the years would never apologize, let alone for something he didn’t need to. 

“It’s not a problem. Things have been so hectic, it’s nice to have a break. It was only for a signature anyway.” He laughed at this, but then the silence started filling the air again.

You realized this was probably the time you should be saying your goodbyes.

“Do you want to come down with me?” You asked.

For a second, he pointed toward the door, like he really wanted to head back outside to that freezing tornado of no. But it’s like he realized that it didn’t make any sense, so he was just standing there, confused about what to say.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going back out there?” You looked at him worriedly.

If his fumbling earlier didn’t confirm anything, his silence now sure did. 

You had no idea what came over you, and honestly it probably wasn’t the most professional thing to do, but you flipped your hand over, brushed his bangs back, and rested your hand on his forehead.

You noticed his immediate shock with the way his eyes widened, but you pushed on. You then moved your hand to his cheeks and as you feared, he was still absolutely freezing.

“Sir, you’re freezing…” You let him know, hoping this would mean something.

You followed his gaze as it went from your hand, up your arm, and finally met your eyes once again. You nearly shivered as you stared into his eyes, his dark orbs felt weighted. Was it sadness, exhaustion, something else entirely?

You tried to shake yourself out of it and dropped your hand. “Going back out is just asking to get sick, and we really need you here.” You smiled up at him.

He didn’t say anything, and that confused look in his eyes still remained.

The awkward silence returned.

“Um, anyway, you should come down with me. I heard you were on your lunch break, yet I see no lunch.” You pointed out.

It seemed that was what it took to finally get him to snap out of it, as he looked down at his empty hands.

“Right…”

“Don’t tell me you forgot…?” And you just knew he did. 

“It’s a bad habit.” He chuckled shyly, but that just made you concerned all over again. What did he mean it was a habit? 

“Maybe we could eat together? I just have to drop these papers off and then we could head to the cafeteria.” You said so abruptly, it shocked yourself just as much as it seemed to shock him. 

What were you saying?! 

…

The silence that lingered had you ready to apologize for even putting out the idea.

“I’m a bit busy and my break is almost over…” You thought this was his way of rejecting your offer. “But… we can get food together.”

Jungkook looked back up at you with a smile on his face. For a second you saw it, that way his eyes crinkled and you found it hard not to fawn at the sight. You felt good that you were able to make him smile like that— for some reason you had the idea that it doesn’t happen too often.

With that, you were heading down the elevator and walking through the halls to your office. On the way, you sensed the questioning eyes of everyone as soon as they saw Jungkook trailing behind you.

Everyone around the office still thought that you hated him.

You eventually got to your office and you were a little shocked to find Solmi and Taehyung standing outside the door. They were just talking, probably waiting for you to go to the cafeteria, but then they finally saw you making your way over.

You noticed their smiles drop as soon as they saw Jungkook behind you.

“Hey guys…” You gave them a warning glare. “I was going to head down with Jungkook— meet me down there later~” You smiled a bit too hard as you set the papers down and turned back to Jungkook, who looked more than a little awkward.

You realized he probably didn’t come out here too often.

You didn’t give your friends any time to ask questions before you were whisking the both of you back to the elevator to finally head downstairs.

You honestly didn’t consider until later how… strange this might look to people. Not only because they thought you still hated him, but you were hanging around a married man like this. You sometimes forgot he was married, but the more looks you received, the more apparent it became how your colleagues might interpret your actions. But you had good intentions. All you wanted to do was make sure he actually ate something, fearing​​ that if you left him upstairs, he’d go back outside again and forget to eat lunch entirely. 

No one seemed to be worried, and you doubted anyone else would remind him to eat lunch. It’s not like you were this amazing person, but despite your mixed feelings toward Jeon Jungkook, you still didn’t want to just leave him like this. You wanted to help him even if it was just a little bit. He reminded you of Mi-Sun so much…

Besides that, it also gave you an opportunity to work on the awkwardness between you two before your long night together. Maybe he’d even give you bonus points for taking the initiative and being the first to try and extend the olive branch. 

However, neither of you talked too much as you waited in line, which wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. You’d sometimes try to ask him questions, but it didn’t lead anywhere besides a simple back and forth. The glaring awkwardness and the growing murmur of the crowd in the cafeteria filled the space between the two of you. Rome wasn’t built in a day; you knew creating any type of amicable relationship with Jungkook was going to take some time, especially considering you both didn’t start on the best foot, so you didn’t dwell on it too much. 

In between your short conversations, many people offered to let Jungkook go in front of them as soon as they noticed the CEO’s son was there, but he declined every time. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t surprised. That side of you who still thought the worst of him had you thinking he would use his position to nudge his way into any door he possibly could, even something as insignificant as skipping through the lunch line. But no, he didn’t even think about it any time someone would come up to him. Maybe you were wrong once again. 

Eventually, you were able to make it through the line.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? Maybe you could spare a few minutes to eat? My friends will be down soon if you want to sit with us, or maybe Director Park—“ 

“No, it’s alright. I’ve been gone long enough. Thank you, though.” Jungkook smiled.

You looked at him hesitantly. “Alright, just make sure you actually eat.”

“Don’t worry. I’m the king of multitasking~” He laughed, but you still were in fact still worried. For some reason you didn’t believe him, but you didn’t want to fight him on this.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later, okay?” He smiled at you before turning around and heading back to the elevators.

That was the last time you saw each other before your meeting. The rest of the day, you found yourself feeling even more nervous.  

•────•──────────•────•

As your colleagues began packing up all their belongings and saying their goodbyes, you tried not to think about the fact that you had to meet with Jungkook soon, because you either found your nerves returning or you wanted to cry because you couldn’t go home. 

When the time finally arrived, you passed Secretary Yu’s empty desk and stood outside the door. You took a second to just breathe and try to calm your beating heart. There was no reason to be this nervous, you can handle Jeon Jungkook just like you do everything. Get in, be done, and then get out. Home was your finish line. 

Before they left, Taehyung and Solmi performed a ritual to wish you luck for tonight by surrounding your chair with pens, highlighters, bottles of white-out, and basically all the office supplies they could find. 

“By the power of this printer paper, Y/n is going to make it home alive.” Solmi said dramatically, holding a pack of printer paper— you had just asked her to fill the printer tray before they started doing this. Taehyung was standing behind her playing spooky music. They both told you that the ambiance was the last ingredient to reassure you that the ritual would work. 

You called them dramatic, but they said it was necessary to ensure you made it out of the “demon’s lair” unscathed. It was entirely too much, maybe even a little rude, but you let them have their fun.

There was absolutely no reason to be scared, but you couldn’t help the way your heart sped up in your chest as you knocked you pushed open the door.

Once again, you weren’t greeted with a demon’s lair, but well— no, maybe you couldn’t say that exactly. Taehyung and Solmi, during their ritual, had put the thought into your head that his bright office was merely a façade maintained during work hours, that he and the room revealed their true colors the minute most people were out of the building. You thought it was silly, but as you grasped your laptop tightly and saw that his office was dark apart from the faint glow of a couple of candles placed around the tables, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had entered the right room. This certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Y/n—” You heard, but suddenly there was a loud thud making you nearly jump out of your skin as you snapped your head towards the commotion. “Shit!” You realized Jungkook groaned, as he clutched onto his desk. “I knew that was there…” He tried to laugh, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. 

You shook yourself out of your shock, before you hurriedly made your way over to him, trying your best to dodge past the faint outline of furniture on the way.

“Are you ok?” You asked looking down to see if you could notice any damage, but the room was just so dark. You helped him sit back down in his chair.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize my desk was there…” He sighed, his brows furrowed as he leaned back.

“How could you? Why do you have all the lights off?” You looked around now that you were fully inside the room, and your eyes had adjusted a little more. The candles created a nice mood lighting, and the sparkling city lights outside provided that last little touch of magic. It was pretty, very different from what you’d see during the day. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was preparing for a date considering how romantic this almost seemed.

“I always turn them off when I stay here late— the lights are way too bright for this time of night, in my opinion. I don’t mind it being completely dark, but I lit some candles so you could see.” You were tempted to ask where he got so many since you had never seen them around before, but you kept quiet and just accepted the gesture. It was really sweet.

Jungkook suddenly swiveled around in his chair to reveal a minifridge you didn’t realize he had in here. He opened it, and you peeped a variety of drinks, mainly beer it seemed, but he pulled out a wine bottle before shutting it.

“Only if you want to.” He looked down at the bottle and then back at you. 

You were shocked. 

It was just then that you realized you never had a picture of what Jungkook was like outside of work. You couldn’t even imagine him stepping outside of this office building, but if you ever subconsciously had any impression, you never expected that he would be so… loose? You honestly thought it would be quite boring staying late with him, where you would be stuck fighting all forces of nature to keep your eyes open. You thought he would be the stone-cold, boring, business type, where you were here for work only. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Jungkook instructed you to grab Secretary Yu’s chair and roll it in so you could sit next to him, since all of the seats in his office were too heavy to move. As you left, he popped open the cork and took out wine glasses he also brought out of thin air.  

Once you got back, he even told you that the wine was yours to keep (a gift for staying late with him). You looked at the bottle, but you had no idea what it was. You squinted, trying to read the label, and eventually figured out it was entirely written in French. That’s when Jungkook explained that he had first tried this wine when his father had given him a bottle after a business trip to France.

“I had been having a terrible day, and then I remembered I had this white wine my dad gave me. I poured just a little to taste— next thing I knew, the whole bottle was gone.” He chuckled at the memory as he filled both of your glasses about halfway.

“I bought a few more bottles when I went this summer. I hope you like it~” He smiled at you. 

You figured this bottle was expensive, and you didn’t need to recognize the brand to understand that. Just as Jungkook described, one sip was all it took for you to understand precisely what he meant. It was probably the best wine you’d ever had; the sweetness danced nicely across your tongue before you couldn’t resist and had to swallow. You weren’t even that big of a wine drinker, but with this one, you could see yourself turning into one of those people who have a glass after coming home from work every day.

You seriously had to resist downing your drink because you were trying to hurriedly settle your nerves, but it was also that delicious. It was then that you both agreed not to go overboard. You were here to work after all, and you both still had to get home one way or another. One glass, two at most.

As the tension eased slightly, you opened your laptop, Jungkook turned back to his computer, and finally you both got to work.

Most of the time, it went as planned. You were able to fly through work relatively smoothly. You hated to admit that you two worked pretty well together. Your flow was like a perfect machine, two functions working independently, but eventually coming together to create the final product. Sometimes, you’d both be sitting in silence as the candles flickered around you, typing away at the keys, but then you’d always reconvene and spend most of the time talking about ideas, plans for next year’s Q1, and making the last bit of confirmations needed for the end of Q4.

As you both approached the end of the workload, you started to slow down, the last little bit is the hardest to finish as they say.

The whole evening was peaceful. It wasn’t anything at all like the second shift you’d pictured. Jungkook was… pretty chill. You sipped wine, and lightly chatted about work. How could this be the same guy you hated since your first day here? How the hell was he the guy who had rumors about people going into his office only to come out crying? 

It didn’t make any sense, and suddenly you found yourself upset at whoever spread that nasty rumor. Jungkook, with his sparkling eyes, looked like he couldn’t even hurt a fly, how did that even become a thing?

Then again, it’s not like you were any better… you were practically president of the Jungkook hate club before your promotion. You found yourself tempted to ask him why things had been so weird between you, if it really was all about the coffee you spilled on him, or if there was something else you did that you were entirely unaware of.

Your thoughts were interrupted all of a sudden when you heard ruffling. You looked over to find Jungkook taking off his suit jacket.

Oh?

•────•──────────•────•

He hadn’t thought much about it.

It was a little stuffy in his office, so he finally had to take his jacket off, roll up the sleeves of his white button-up, and undo just one more button. He didn’t even think you’d notice, but then he felt your gaze bearing down on him with enough weight to make him turn to face you.

Jungkook met your eyes briefly, and he had to take a second to recollect himself after seeing the way you were staring at him. Your eyes were dark and hooded, and you had the pen you had been twirling around your fingers teased between your lips. His mind was in all the wrong places. He knew that was his fault— but the longer he looked at you, the more his body burned with a horrible need. You looked so pretty; the city’s bright lights framed you nicely, and the faint candle glow made you look ethereal. 

“I didn’t know you had tattoos?” You used the pen you were holding to point at his arm. It finally dawned on him that that’s what you were looking at. He suddenly felt his cheeks grow warm, both embarrassed that he let his mind go there, and that you noticed something he’d been wanting to hide.

“Oh yeah… right, I sometimes forget they’re there.” Jungkook chuckled, trying to calm himself down. 

“When did you get them?” You asked, leaning a little closer to see them a bit better.

“Four— five years ago? I think I got them all during my last year of college.”

“Really?” He couldn’t help but notice the shock in your voice. “How did I never notice?”

“It’s not like I have too many. I originally planned to do a whole sleeve, but then I got busy, married, and overall things just changed. Unless I wear short sleeves, you can’t really see them.” Jungkook explained, his smile fading the longer he spoke.

“Does your wife not like tattoos?” You pondered, and he tried to ignore the weird feeling he got from hearing you mention her. 

“They’re not her favorite.” Jungkook was putting that a little nicely.

It wasn’t even like it was a big secret that he had tattoos before they got married. On their second date, Jungkook had to rush to meet Yuri after an appointment; his arm was still wrapped up and everything. This turned out to be the last tattoo he’d end up getting— the floral pattern he had on his elbow. 

Jungkook got so busy afterward dealing with the end of the semester and his job at Golden Tech, that he never could find the time for any more appointments before he got married. He planned to finish what he started when he got back from their honeymoon, he even had an appointment booked. But while they were lounging at the pool at their resort, basking under the sun in the Maldives, this one guy who had both arms done walked by. Jungkook had eagerly mentioned how cool they looked, but Yuri grimaced and said they weren’t really her thing.

At the time, she’d tried to recover and say she didn’t mind the couple that he'd managed to get, but Jungkook got the message; that was all she could tolerate.

Truthfully, she didn’t like them at all, and Yuri made sure he knew. In the heat of an argument, she’d called his tattoos ridiculous, silly, and even childish. Jungkook didn’t even fight back because he couldn’t deny that they didn’t look right. He’d planned to fill the space more when he got more time. The ones he had managed to brave before getting married individually he still thought were pretty cool, but all together, they were weirdly placed, spaced out, and generally just looked awkward since he never got to finish what he had planned.

He couldn’t say he liked them as much anymore. 

Jungkook had thought about getting them removed a couple of times; he’d even made an appointment once, but ultimately never followed through with it. He didn’t know if it was because of the pain he dreaded or the fact that when he tried to picture his arm bare again, he almost had a full-on breakdown. So he decided to keep them. They were his ridiculous, silly, and maybe even childish history.

Instead, he tried to be content with the fact his sleeve wouldn’t get finished, and just reminisced whenever he looked down at his right arm about the time when the thought of turning his body into a canvas was more than alluring.

He wanted to make Yuri happy.

“I think they’re pretty.” You suddenly mentioned, and one compliment was enough to make him feel funny all over. “Maybe you might change your mind one day about finishing it.” You continued.

Jungkook just stared at you as you spoke, his face felt like it was on fire. “I—I don’t know—“

“I’m sure your wife would grow to love them!” You exclaimed, turning your attention to the photo he kept on his desk. You leaned a little closer looking at his big smile as she kissed his cheek. They seemed so happy.

Jungkook noticed your gaze on the picture, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache at the sight. Something about it felt so wrong, almost like the two biggest problems in his life were coming face to face.

“How did you two meet?” You suddenly asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. At first, he was a little confused about who you were talking about, but in one of your hands was the picture you were looking at.

“Um— our parents introduced us to each other.” 

You cooed and turned to look at the picture, then back at Jungkook, and then back at the picture again. 

“You found love so early. We’re nearly the same age, right? It’s crazy to imagine being married right now.” You chuckled at the thought.

Jungkook stared at the candle in front of him as he soaked up your words. You were right; you would never see someone in this day and age married at twenty-six, at least not here. All of his friends from college were posting about going to the latest clubs. Not a single proposal announcement had crossed his timeline, yet he was about to celebrate his fourth anniversary in only a few months.

It really was crazy.

When Jungkook didn’t say anything, you took it upon yourself to fill in the silence. “Were you just so in love that you couldn’t wait?” You questioned dreamily as you batted your eyelashes. You watched as Jungkook continued to stare at the candle that sat between you, seemingly lost in thought.

“Jungkook?” You questioned.

“I heard you… it’s just… I mean, yes, we were, it’s just—”

“...trouble in paradise?” You asked hesitantly, worrying you were starting to pry too much.

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a while, his heart pounding at how easily you seemed to notice. “You could say that.” He chuckled, his voice was soft, you barely heard him.

“Don’t worry. Every couple goes through difficulties, I’m sure you both will make it through this.” You tried to bring the mood back up, sensing you must have hit a touchy subject.

Jungkook resisted the urge to say it was all his fault, that he was the bomb in their relationship— the one who was wreaking havoc and causing the mass destruction. It was all him. 

“You guys look so happy here. When did you take this?” You pointed back to the picture on his desk. 

“That was our honeymoon.” His voice was slightly pained, as he thought back to a time when everything was still so promising; when he still seemed promising. You didn’t seem to notice, though.

“Where did you guys go? The background looks so pretty.” You pointed out the sparkling water that sat behind them. It was the clearest blue you’d ever seen.

“The Maldives.” He answered, and your eyes widened. You instantly felt a little jealous.

“If you ever have a business trip that takes you back to some beautiful island, you should take me with you. I could even try to squeeze into your suitcase if you’ll let me.” This finally got Jungkook to laugh.

“I’m serious— I’m sure I could fit inside!” You were already working out your plan in your head on how you’d somehow make the journey. He laughed even harder, like it was the funniest thing in the world. You quickly settled on the fact you liked it when Jungkook laughed, it was cute, this was the first time you heard it go beyond just a simple chuckle. It didn’t match him at all, but at the same time, it did. It was a distinct sound that made you unable to stop yourself from joining in, because you would have never guessed that was his laugh, but you found it oddly… endearing? It felt very Jungkook, even though you weren’t sure what that really meant yet. 

You decided to keep the joke going because you wanted to hear him laugh more. You told him you were sure you could somehow do it; if anyone could figure out how to travel by suitcase from Korea all the way to The Maldives, it would be you.

“What! I’ve never even left the country before, and I want to travel so badly. You seriously have to bring me on your next business trip!” You were both joking and incredibly serious at the same time. You had always wanted to travel.

Jungkook sensed this and calmed down a little. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes widened. “Is this a promise I’m hearing, Director Jeon?” Your excitement made Jungkook feel strange— fluttery almost. 

“Promise.” He smiled at you. You beamed and held out your pinkie. Jungkook looked down and then back up at your eyes, a little confused.

You got the message and grabbed his wrist so you could lock pinkies. You took it a step further, and your hand so your thumbs touched. “Look, it’s official now~” 

Jungkook stared down at your interwoven hands, his heart nearly beating out of his chest at all the thoughts racing through his head. The clearest one being the feeling of your hand in his— so small, warm, and the urge to pull you into his arms was dangerous. He remembered his dream from this morning, that stupid fucking dream he had of fucking you on that meeting table. What would your hands feel like elsewhere? He wanted to touch you too. He was aware of how alone you both were in the building; no one was in the office, no one would barge in and see if you— 

But then he was brought back to reality, and suddenly it was painfully hot in this room. Jungkook quickly let go of your hand as his face continued to warm.

“You ok?” Your red lips formed the words, but he had a hard time listening.

That cold shower didn’t help at all. If he took another one once he got back home, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. At this point, Jungkook doubted that if he sat in a bath of ice water for an hour it would be enough to calm the way his body burned and pleaded for help.

If he tried once again and begged Yuri, would she say yes? The idea was laughable, considering the stunt he pulled this morning. He was pathetic; why would she help him?

“Jungkook?” You tried calling out to him once again after seeing him get lost in thought. 

That was finally enough to get him to snap out of it. 

“I–I’m so sorry. I’m fine, you’re fine.” He tried his best to laugh it off. Jungkook couldn’t even look at you as he spoke.

“Was it the promise? I’m sorry if that was inappropriate. I know you’re married. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable…” You trailed off worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I promise! I just got a lot on my mind.” You, he had a whole lot of you in his head.

You still looked at him with concern, but you hoped you didn’t make things weird… or rather, weirder than they already were. You tried to get back to work once again, but it was hard to make any progress after what happened. 

You battled the thoughts clouding your mind.

What was even happening? Maybe the wine was stronger than you thought, or you had suddenly become a lightweight, the possibility making more sense than understanding just how much you weren’t thinking straight anymore. That had to be it, right? 

Your face grew more flushed as you stared at your computer trying to comprehend what just occurred. Was that weird? It was just supposed to be a cute promise. You didn’t think that was crossing a line, but the way he looked at you…

Your whole body shivered at the thought and where your mind led you. You had to get it together. 

•────•──────────•────•

This was bad.

His wandering mind had led him down a dangerous path that he was desperately trying to save himself from. The only thing Jungkook could think about while he tried to focus on the spreadsheets in front of him was you who was sitting next to him: your hand in his, your red lips you’d occasionally pull between your teeth as you concentrated on your work, and your skirt that he swore got shorter each time he glanced over at you. But then his mind drifted to his wife, Yuri. 

He missed her. Was there any chance she’d be back at their place, ready willing to help him fix this? Clothes nowhere in sight, her legs spread, just waiting for him to come home and—

If he was just better… 

It only made him think back to their honeymoon, when she still had hope in him. 

Things had been a bit awkward at first, but as they partook in more activities around the island, they started loosening up. The pleasant moments eventually led them to the hot tub right outside their room. 

They had a beautiful view of the Indian Ocean, the sun was just starting to go under the horizon, and the sky was lit up beautifully with a symphony of vibrant colors that had painted the water below. It was breathtaking. 

It was Yuri’s idea for them to get in the hot tub that overlooked the sight to finally get the chance to just sit and talk. They did, that evening had been so magical as they spoke with each other about their lives and even spilled a lot of personal thoughts and fears, all while they sipped a bottle of amazing champagne. The awkwardness finally seemed to dissipate, and it was just the two of them getting to know each other after the chaos of the wedding. The moment had made his heart feel so warm, knowing that they were in a place where they could open up to each other. 

Jungkook didn’t know how it happened. Maybe Yuri had started to feel the same sparks flying in the air that he did. He was just so happy and in the moment, he didn’t remember how things got to that point, but suddenly she was crawling into his lap and kissing him. 

Things escalated very quickly after that. One moment Jungkook was kissing her sweetly, just happy to be having an intimate moment with his wife, but things changed before he could even process what was going on. The pace all of a sudden started picking up, her hands were running across his burning skin, her lips hastily moving against his. Then he was throwing her red bikini top off, and suddenly they were rushing out the hot tub back inside to the bed. It was there where they fucked with their bathing suits still clinging to their bodies— He thought it was romantic, the type of sex he had only dreamed of, so passionate and lost in the moment that no one could even find time to take off their clothes. 

If he got an opportunity like that again with Yuri...       

…

He wanted to ruin her.

He tried his best not to get emotional again. Not with you here. He didn’t want you to know how pathetic he was, how disgusting his thoughts were— because, with you he wanted to do worse. With you, he entertained the deepest, darkest desires he’d tried his best to keep buried for the sake of his relationship. But when it came to you—

Jungkook looked over in your direction, your red lips, short skirt, and long legs… he didn’t want to just ruin you, he wanted to absolutely destroy you. At least that’s what he felt would happen— this horrible desire to have you, when he had someone to go home to, was a breeding ground for his imagination to run wild. You were a fantasy, a fantasy that should be burned in the hottest flames imaginable.

It was just so fucking wrong, and the more he looked at you, the more his blood boiled. Why did you have to work here? Why were you so pretty? Why did he have to want you so badly? Why did he have to be married? Why did his brother have to leave? Why couldn’t he be a better husband so Yuri would want him and this whole situation could have been avoided?

In another world, he could have dreaded needing to stay with you after work. His wife could have been sitting back at home waiting for him, missing him. If he was just better, Yuri would have texted him throughout the day. It would have been about random stuff she wanted to tell him, and when she would have made it home, she would have sent him something cheesy like the apartment feels so empty without you here ㅠㅠ. He would have apologized, but fawned every time she’d text him because she was so cute. He’d respond each time and reassure her that he would be home as soon as he could.

But unfortunately, the reality was everything but that. He was the fucking problem. He could have had it all if he was better… he was always the fucking problem.

Instead, he was here with you, trying his best to ignore the way his pants were starting to feel tighter because he couldn’t get it together. He was thinking about those three buttons undone on that white button-up you have tucked into that short fucking skirt— so close to seeing more, how easy it would be to undo one more if you’d let him. That dream too— right there on the meeting table. Sitting here at his desk, it was so easy to imagine you sprawled right on top, waiting for him to touch you. You would look so pretty, and he would do anything you asked. He just wanted to make you feel good, to make someone feel good—

“Shit—“ It left his lips before he could stop it as he lifted his hips subtly, desperately wishing to meet something. That’s when you finally turned back to him, noticing how flushed he was.

“Sir, are you sure you’re ok?” You asked, concerned at the way he jumped at your voice. The candlelight was enough to show the pink dusting his cheeks.

To be honest, he’d nearly forgotten you were actually in the room with him. 

“Uhh— I’m just a little warm is all…” He tried to play it off.

You awed and started to fan him lightly with your hands, hoping that would help.

It didn’t, but he smiled at the gesture nonetheless.

Looking around the room, you noticed the fan that was sitting in the corner. You quickly stood up and went to grab it, hoping that would help him cool down. 

As soon as you got up, Jungkook let out a sigh of relief and rolled over to the minifridge that sat beside him. Past all the alcohol were a few water bottles he mainly kept as a means of sobering up, or to put a dent in the iron wall of a hangover he’d often wake up with. 

He grabbed one, and hurriedly opened it up and chugged it down, hoping it would help him relax.

You were supposed to chase a drink down with water, the tip saving him so many times when he was in college, but lately, he never remembered. Most times, all he cared about was silencing the thoughts that had grown so loud at this point it was almost deafening; it would always make his head hurt, and his heart ache. These days he could care less about the consequences whenever he’d be reaching into his fridge and pulling out a drink. No matter how bad the aftermath was, it was never more painful than how he felt sober. But today, Jungkook wasn’t drunk, not even tipsy. You were enough to occupy his mind, you and the image of you naked on his desk. While it did pose a great problem, it was enough to ignore the biggest one temporarily. 

You were back soon after and set the fan in between you both. You were a little shocked to see the candles illuminate the sheen across his skin— you didn’t think it was that hot in here.

“Sir, are you—“

Jungkook set down his water and shook his head. “You don’t need to call me that— please don’t call me that, especially when we’re alone.”

You stood there, a little confused. 

“We’re the same age right— I don’t know, every time you call me sir it feels like I aged 50 years all of a sudden. Please just call me Jungkook.” He laughed. It was true, it was always weird anytime you’d call him sir, but he needed any distraction he could get so he could finish his work.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, a little surprised he didn’t want to keep the honorifics in place. 

Jungkook nodded. 

You smiled. This was progress.

“Alright… Jungkook, how’s that?” You asked as you plugged in the fan. It instantly came to life and the blades quickly picked up enough speed to have a cool breeze blowing in between you both.

Jungkook tried to ignore the way he flushed at the fact that he instantly knew how much he liked hearing his name come out of your mouth. 

“Better, thank you so much.” He was lying straight through his teeth. It really didn’t do much. Jungkook doubted even a staycation to Alaska could solve his issues, but his heart still warmed at the gesture. You were always so sweet.

•────•──────────•────•

You sat back down on your chair and took another sip from your wine glass. It was almost empty at this point. You had kept drinking as your mind continued to travel back to Jungkook, his newfound tattoos, that extra button he undid— two now it seems, that bottle of wine you were sharing, but most of all, you were questioning where you stood. 

You had been debating whether to ask him if he likes you or not. This was probably the worst time to ask, but the dim candlelight and just how… nice, things for the most part have been tonight made you want to get to the bottom of it.

But Jungkook was quicker at filling the silence.

“Y/n, if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you start working at Golden Tech?” His voice was so gentle, sitting right above the sounds of the crackling candles.

The question had you stunned for a second, not at all expecting it, nor did you immediately have an answer.

“I don’t know, why does anyone start working anywhere?” You laughed, but realized who you were speaking to. Maybe not the best joke. You quickly cleared your throat. “But Golden Tech is a really good company— I heard a lot about it when I was still in college about how well they treat their employees. It aligned well with many of my ambitions, so once I finished grad school I thought I’d apply and see what would happen.” 

It was still crazy that you were sitting with the CEO’s son. A few years ago you thought maybe you were being a little too ambitious with trying to aim for Golden Tech, yet not even two years later, you got the job, and you were already the Associate Director of the Seoul division’s financial team. Who knows where you might be in another two years?

“Do you regret your decision? Honestly, I think you could have gotten a notable position at Samsung if you had applied.” Jungkook wondered. 

You laughed at his comment. “Me? At Samsung? Never in a million years would that happen. I thought I was being too ambitious by applying here!” You giggled, the entire idea oddly amusing.

“I don’t think it’s ambitious at all; you would have done well there,” Jungkook said quite seriously. He wasn’t used to this side of you. You were normally so confident, it was strange seeing you doubt yourself. 

“Yah, is this your way of trying to get me to leave?” You were teasing slightly, but you weren’t prepared for the panic to appear all over his face.

“No— no— never! I just— you’re amazing— I was just saying that—” If he weren’t so flustered, you would have probably heard the part where he mentioned you were amazing.

“I know what you meant~” You chuckled lightly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. You saw this wave of relief wash over him, more than you expected, considering this was the guy who you feared didn’t like you.

Silence went on for a moment until Jungkook spoke up again. “You never answered my question, though. Do you regret coming here?” 

You thought about it for a second, before shaking your head. “Things have been kinda hectic, but I expected it; I mean, it’s a big company, I figured it wouldn’t be easy.” You decided to put it simply. Saying you did initially regret it to your boss probably wasn’t the best idea.

You thought that was the end of that, but when you finally turned back to Jungkook, you saw this weird somber gaze beginning to settle on his features. 

“I’ve been overworking everyone too much, haven’t I?” Jungkook suddenly said after your words finally settled in the air. 

You couldn’t hide the look of confusion on your face as you turned to him. His eyes were staring at the blinding computer screen before him, but you knew he wasn’t paying attention.

“What do you mean? Quarter fours are always busy—”

“That’s not what I mean… I know what they say sometimes. Everyone always speaks so highly of my dad, and he’s done so much for the company as CEO. The way things have gone so far makes me doubt I can meet their expectations when I take over…” That was an understatement. He couldn’t even make one woman happy. 

“The team I manage is already suffering.” He fretted. 

You found yourself at a bit of a loss on what to say. Where was this coming from? You were just joking a second ago but now… that look in his eyes. As he spoke, they grew more weary, tired, and sad. It was that same look you saw when you spilled coffee all over him on your first day here, it was the same look you saw earlier on the roof.

It was a peek into what was running through his head as he looked at you with those sad eyes. If you needed a bigger sign that something was seriously wrong, he couldn’t have given you a more obvious one. What made it even more concerning was that you didn’t know how big of a crack this was. What more could be lying behind those sad eyes?

“Jungkook, people understand you have a lot on your shoulders, it’s alright.” You tried to reassure, but you doubted he heard you. For a second, as he continued to stare down the spreadsheet he had up, you swore you saw his eyes get shiny.

“Ahh— sorry, this sometimes happens when I drink.” Jungkook finally snapped out of it, and hurriedly reached for his wine glass.

You watched concerningly as he chugged down the rest of the clear wine all in one go. 

“What happened to sipping lightly?” You tried to remind him jokingly about what he said as he poured your glasses earlier.

The wine glass clinked against the desk as he set it down.

“I’m fine— I’m making things weird. Tell me about yourself instead? Anything interesting happening in your life?” You could tell he was quickly trying to change the subject. You debated probing further, but you figured maybe a distraction might be what’s best to get him out of his train of thought.

“I was promoted not too long ago.” You smiled, and he actually laughed. It felt good seeing him smile again.

“I’m serious! You’ve nearly been here for two years, but I feel like this is the first time we’ve ever actually just talked.” Jungkook pointed out.

“I don’t think it’s normal to just walk up to your boss and talk about the weather or something.” You pointed out, but again it made your mind travel to the elephant in the room. Despite everything, had this entire time he wanted to be friendly with you? 

“I wouldn’t mind—“ He said it like he was serious, but sensing the sarcasm, you lightly swatted his shoulder— it was out of habit, but you regretted it immediately as soon as it happened.

Jungkook looked shocked for a second, before he smiled, that same smile that would make his eyes crinkle. “Exactly what I was saying, especially when we’re alone like this; treat me like we’re just coworkers.”

“Sir— Jungkook, I’m so sorry.” You felt like you were caught doing the worst crime imaginable— similar to how you felt after discovering you spilled coffee on the CEO’s son on your first day.

“Don’t worry, I really don’t—”

“I’m so so so sorry!” You panicked. Even though you really didn’t hit him hard, this might warrant him to hate you for an actual reason besides an accident.

Jungkook softly grabbed your shoulders to get you to calm down.

“Y/n, I told you it’s ok, really—” He suddenly stopped in his tracks because it seemed he realized how close in proximity you both had become now. Your chairs were a lot closer than you remembered and Jungkook pulling you a bit had somehow created a space between you that only had to be a few centimeters at most. From here, you could see the cute little scar he had on his left cheek.

He was staring directly into your eyes and you were staring back into his. Both of you seemingly shocked at the position you were in and stuck in place. It reminded you of what happened on the roof earlier, another precarious position, but as the seconds ticked by, you could have sworn his eyes darted down to your lips. Time seemed to slow down as you felt the gentle caress of his thumb on your shoulder, and… for a split second, you saw him bite down on his lower lip, only lightly teasing the flesh between his teeth— maybe it was the embarrassment, but it was so, so subtle, before you thought he started to lean a little closer. For a moment, you thought he was about to kiss you.

As quickly as that second came, he suddenly let go of you and tried to smile. “Uh— It seriously wasn’t a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

The moment of normalcy made you snap out of it. You honestly would have believed you blacked out for a second, but the way your face kept getting warmer was a sign something must have happened. 

As you turned away from him, you were greeted once again with the picture of him and his wife on their honeymoon. Right, he was married, you definitely imagined that.

Things grew awkward again as the silence settled into the room. You reached for your wine, wishing now it was a little stronger.

…

Saving the day from the growing discomfort being in this room was your phone buzzing on the desk. You sighed and set your glass down before you reached for it, not really thinking too much of it until you opened it to see a message from Solmi. 

You eagerly unlocked your phone, already having a feeling about what it was. Your smile erupted when you clicked on the picture she sent you. 

It was blurry, but you saw Solmi had quickly snapped a picture of her and Taehyung, who you heard earlier had decided to join her since you couldn’t make it. He had already been contemplating joining you both, but the fact that you definitely weren’t going with her, made him feel like he had to “be the responsible person there.” 

You had laughed at that considering they both were a handful, especially when alcohol was involved, but Taehyung could be worse if he got enough in his system. They matched each other’s energies so well, they had a sibling-like connection you had always found cute. Solmi was a year younger than you, and ever since she first introduced herself to your team when you used to be a manager, Taehyung had always taken on this big brother role to her, and it only got stronger as you all got closer to each other. Their bond created moments like this, Tae somehow getting dragged out to parties on a Tuesday. 

He’d left work a little early to go look for a last-minute costume, and you couldn’t help but laugh seeing what he’d somehow managed to get together. He was dressed as Mario— he had the hat, mustache, and you could just barely see the red shirt and straps that suggested he’d even managed to get overalls. Solmi was smiling beside him, and she had gone for another classic. She had already shown you a picture of her costume a few weeks ago, but she had thrown on some cat ears, drawn on a few whiskers, and you could also see a hint of the leather bodysuit she had on. 

It was a few seconds later that you got another text. 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:48pm]: you should be here >:O 

Followed by more pictures and even some videos. Then additional texts came at the end of the spam. 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:52pm]: taehyung’s drunk and keeps whining that he misses you 🙄 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:52pm]: i miss you too friend 🥺

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:53pm]: tell director jeon we hate him for stealing you from us 😘

You couldn’t help but laugh at this one. However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s eyes on you again, so you quickly scrolled back up to look at the pictures she sent you earlier. 

They were mainly the same, just a few different angles. It looked like Solmi kept clicking the button to get as many pictures as she could. There were some with them holding up glasses of beer and clinking them together. Solmi must have also gotten someone to take their picture because she sent you a full-body one where you could see their entire costumes. You could see a few more details you didn’t get to at first. Taehyung had on these thick white gloves and boots. Solmi had left her bodysuit unzipped a little extra than what they advertised in the picture she’d shown you. You knew her goal was to try and get laid tonight, you silently saluted her, hoping she could succeed. She had even decided to brave wearing high-heeled boots to add that extra level of sexy to her outfit. There were also some pictures that showed they had moved into whatever club or bar they ended up in, and were busy enjoying themselves on the dance floor. 

You were so caught up in the sadness steadily filling your heart seeing your friends out having a great time while you were stuck at work, that you really forgot Jungkook was in the room with you. It was something you had gone through all your life, your friends out having fun and always needing to leave you behind… at least you could have been home enjoying yourself, but—

You scrolled back up and clicked on the first video she sent you. The sound of music filled the silence, and you were quickly greeted with Solmi’s smiling face as she danced along. She then brought the phone close. 

“You should be here Y/n! You left me with this idiot—” She then turned the camera around to reveal Taehyung who was dancing intensely beside her. It took him a second to notice the camera, but then he smiled as she brought it close. 

“Miss you Y/n!” He tried to say over the music before the video cut off. 

Awwww… you missed them too. But your attention tore away from your phone when you suddenly noticed Jungkook leaning over. 

“They’re at a club on a Tuesday?” He asked curiously. 

You smiled. “Mmmm, someone’s nosy.” You chuckled and that immediately had Jungkook leaning back. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t—” He quickly tried to defend, but you just laughed and leaned over yourself. 

“You’re fine, look.” You held out your phone to him so he could see a little better. At first you contemplated showing your boss these pictures, but you figured there was no harm, they were honestly cute. 

“It's Halloween?” He suddenly said, taking a better look to see they were dressed up.

“Yeah, did you forget?” You laughed, making him chuckle too.

“My memory is horrible these days.” Jungkook shied, running his hands through his hair.

“Understandable. Things have been really busy these days, it’s hard to keep track of what’s happening anymore.”

Jungkook nodded along as you spoke, but he couldn’t help but sigh. It felt like the world was moving without him, that he was just an observer in the background until moments like these where he was brought back down to realize time had in fact passed, and it was always more than expected. He could have sworn it was Chuseok just the other week. 

“Solmi had wanted to go bar hopping after she heard about all the stuff that they’re doing in Itaewon this year. She wanted me to come, but I was busy, so Taehyung decided to tag along and make sure she doesn’t do anything too crazy.” You smiled as you scrolled through the pictures and videos, and you landed on a particularly funny one where Taehyung managed to find a random pole and Solmi captured him hanging and swinging around it.   

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a special occasion. If I would’ve known, I could've worked on this by my—” But you stopped him. 

“It’s fine, two people make the work go faster, and I had been contemplating going anyway. Who wants to go out on a Tuesday besides Solmi?” You cringed, in all likelihood you probably would have spent your evening cozied up under your blankets, enjoying any free time you could manage and catching up on sleep when you got too tired. “I know they’re going to be struggling trying to get to work tomorrow.” You laughed at your words and at another video where someone had joined Taehyung on the pole, a guy in one of those full-body suits people use for greenscreen stuff. 

But despite your words, Jungkook’s silence told you he still was thinking about it. 

“Jungkook, I promise it’s fine. The wine alone makes up for it.” You smiled. You were definitely going to brag to them that you were gifted expensive wine from the Jeon Jungkook. They probably wouldn’t believe it until they came over and saw the bottle. You also had plans to look it up afterward, check the price, and confirm your sneaking suspicion that this really would make up for it.

Another video. Without pressing play, you could see Taehyung had the phone. What was going on? 

“Y/n, baby, I miss you so much. Solmi keeps trying to—” But the video cuts off before he could finish. 

You laughed and kept going with a smile on your face. You didn’t even notice Jungkook’s eyes or the fact that you didn’t question the nickname.

Hmmm.

“Yah… I don’t think I could do this anymore.” You suddenly said, as more and more hectic documentation came from Solmi.

Jungkook turned to you a little confused about what you meant. You showed him your phone again and revealed the crowd Solmi and Taehyung had found themselves in in their latest pictures. 

“Partying like this. I mean, I didn’t even do all this when I was in college, but now…”  You laughed. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

“I don’t think we’re old,” Jungkook interjected, making you laugh.

“Oooo, is this when Jeon Jungkook reveals that he actually enjoys going to parties?” The thought was hilarious for some reason. He didn't seem like the party type, at all. You couldn’t imagine him doing anything else but work. 

“No— I just don’t think our age is a factor in us being able to go out and have fun at events like this…” 

You hummed at his answer. “I don’t know, the older I get, the more staying home and doing absolutely nothing becomes more and more appealing.” 

He laughed at that. “For me, that has nothing to do with getting older. But I somewhat see your point, college me was a very different person.” 

Was he?

You peered at him. Now that the thought was in your head, trying to imagine college-aged Jungkook. Hmmm…

You turned around over to where Jungkook had hung up his degrees. You had seen them before, but being this close actually gave you the chance to really look at them. 

You found yourself both shocked and not shocked at all to find out he graduated from SNU. It was the top university in the country, and of course the golden boy probably easily got accepted. No, that wasn't surprising, what was more interesting was the fact he didn’t have one but two bachelor's degrees, one in business and the other in computer science, you quickly read. It wasn’t the most outrageous thing to imagine because he was going to be the CEO of a tech company, but you knew that jaded perception you had of Jungkook still lingered because you couldn’t picture him actually managing to do all that work to get two very different degrees. 

“Did you even have time to go to parties?” You couldn’t help but ask. For all you knew he paid his way to get these degrees, but the more you talked with him, the more you couldn’t picture him doing that.

Jungkook laughed as he leaned back in his chair. “No, but Jimin hyung made me get out sometimes.”

His words reminded you that Jimin had mentioned that he and Jungkook had gone to the same college. As it sunk in though, you found that information a little easier to digest. Jimin had always seemed really smart. 

“Were you always the guy standing in the corner, brooding, clearly upset because his friend dragged him out of the house?” You giggled, and Jungkook joined in.

“You really think I’m that boring?” He laughed and you only just now realized how much closer you both were to each other once again as you looked into his sparkling eyes.  

“You tell me.” You smirked. 

He laughed again.

“Where did you go? Did you go to school in Seoul? I'm surprised we never ran into each other.” You suddenly heard Jungkook ask. 

“Korea University.” You answered quickly, but then your face grew flushed. You should be confident; it was really a notable achievement and most people would be in awe anytime you mentioned it, but for some reason everything about Jungkook made you a little self-conscious. 

“Ooo, so we were pretty much in the same boat then.” He said, and you looked at him with questioning eyes. 

“Did you even have time to go to parties?” He chuckled, repeating your original question. You playfully rolled your eyes at that. 

“I would make time, as much as I could, but I was often in situations like these where I’d be the one left behind so I could work.” You were proclaimed the most fun, non-fun person by your friend group in college.

“Were you the person in the corner?” His low voice had you feeling a little funny.

“Jungkook I’m a lot of things. I’ve been called a workaholic, understandable, but a wallflower is not one of them. You will find me on the dance floor at any given opportunity,” you boasted. 

Jungkook laughed again, the pinkness to his cheeks making you fawn. “I would like to see that.” 

Oh… you hated the way your body tingled at the thought of him watching you.

“Get me alone like this on a Friday or something, bring more wine like this one, and I’ll dance for you.” You smirked. 

His eyes quickly glanced over you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Noted.” 

You nodded, but it was mainly to shake the thoughts running through your mind out of your head. Fuck, Jeon Jungkook.     

“So you haven’t changed much then?” He inquired further. 

You shook your head. “I’ve always been this way. I put work before anything else, but I try to make a little time for fun sometimes.” You smiled. You turned back to Jungkook who had rested his arm on his desk and his head in his hand, with this smile on his face you couldn’t quite recognize.

“How do you do it?” He said softly. 

“What?” You laughed, but you were already getting choked up. He had no reason to look at you like that.

“I don’t know how to make time for anything else besides going home and to work. You’re amazing~” He chuckled nervously.

You were too busy however trained on the fact that he called you amazing. “A-Amazing?” You stumbled, your face was burned the more you thought about it.

Jungkook turned to you again when he realized what he had said. “It’s something I’ve always admired about you. You do so much, and you’re always so great with everyone here. Your meeting yesterday for example—” He gushed, and the more he spoke, the faster your heart started pounding in your chest.

“You did so well, and then there’s me. I’m supposed to be the head, yet—” Jungkook sighed and stopped himself knowing where this would go if he kept going. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

You sighed before picking up your wine and motioning over to his empty glass. He chuckled lightly before picking it up and clinking it against your own. You took one for the team and took a sip for you both.       

“Don’t sweat it too much. You’re not so bad yourself.” You smiled at him as you set the glass down. 

He really wasn’t. He still got on your nerves sometimes, but the Jungkook you’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks was almost entirely different from what you expected before you came into your position. He was cute, in a way that made you want to pinch his cheeks, no… that completely wasn’t right. He was cute in a way that made it hard for you to tear your gaze away from him. He was hot if you were being honest, but you didn’t want to admit that, he was married, and you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room as to why he was always so weird with you.

As the candle flickered, you took a moment to admire him, and how his white button-up stretched across his toned body nicely. You’d been trying to be on your best behavior all night, forcing yourself not to peer too closely at the way it fitted across his arms, or how he undid that button, and you could only picture how nice his chest might look the way the buttons seemed to be struggling to keep all that contained. Then there were the newly found tattoos that decorated his arm. You’d always liked tattoos, and you never pictured a big-corpa guy like Jungkook to be tatted. It just made you wonder how many more you couldn’t see… His hands were nice, fingers enhanced with his pretty gold and silver jewelry. Then his face, you might have drank too much, it was only one glass, but you had always loved how he looked at you. He was handsome, his pretty eyes, nose, jawline, and lips that you knew his wife probably went crazy over. Jungkook was hot and maybe in a different timeline… In a different timeline… It was starting to make a little more sense why he was already married.    

Jungkook’s face burned the longer your eyes peered over him. His brain was malfunctioning as he felt your gaze. It just made his already scrambled thoughts drift more to a place he knew they shouldn’t.

He wished he could kiss you.

Interrupting the moment was the sound of your phone buzzing on the desk again. You finally tore your eyes away again to look at your phone. Lo and behold, it was another text, however, it wasn't from Solmi this time; it was Taehyung.    

You opened it and it was a video. You once again didn’t think too much about it as you clicked play.

“Y/n!” Taehyung had tried to yell over the music. It seemed he had made his way to a table and was taking a little break. “You should be here getting drunk with us.” He sighed.

“Solmi abandoned me for this random guy who came up to her while we were dancing.” You giggled at the pout on his face. “You should be here, I’m just going to be third-wheeling the rest of the night.” He sighed. 

You laughed at that. Anytime you all have gone out together, you and Taehyung were usually left behind, while Solmi abandoned you both for her person of interest for the night. You always had fun together, making the most of the fact that a member of your friend group left you for some rando for the rest of the night.  

“I miss youuuuuu. Fuck Jeon Jungkook for making you stay.” He whined, and you could tell the alcohol had really started to have an effect on him. You panicked, feeling Jungkook’s eyes burning into your phone.  

Oh, this really was a bad idea. 

“I might head home soon. We’ve been to I don’t know how many bars, and I’m drunk as shit. If I’m late or you don’t see me at work tomorrow, you know why. Anyway, I miss you and if I’m not there tomorrow, I’ll try and come over if you’re free.” You were hardly processing his words as Jungkook’s gaze burned into you.

“Byeeee…” He waved at the camera. “Solmi says bye too even though she’s not here. I’ll text you later.” The video then clicked off and you were left with the mortifying silence.

You worriedly glanced over at Jungkook. “I’m sorry, he didn’t mean it like—”

Jungkook weakly smiled at you. “It’s fine. I still feel bad for keeping you here.” 

“And I told you it was fine.” You both smiled at each other, but you hurriedly reached for your wine once again, feeling that awkward silence return all too quickly.     

“So, um… how are things going for you dating-wise?” Jungkook suddenly asked out of the blue.

You nearly spit out your wine. “What?!”

He suddenly looked panicked. “I just mean— well, I told you about my marriage, I don’t know, I thought— you know, I wondered how things were going for people my age who aren’t married. I mean— well, no, I was really curious about you too—“ He was rambling.

“Uh, it’s fine.” You were still flustered, but you understood what he was trying to say.

“Are you and Taehyung…?” Jungkook stopped himself, worrying he overstepped with the suggestion.

“Mmm, that’s what everyone around the office seems to think.” You sighed as you leaned back in your chair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“Jungkook, do you think you can keep a secret?” You asked, before he could finish.

“Yeah, I guess so.” But that alone was enough to give Jungkook a bad feeling about your answer. The endearing nickname he heard from Taehyung in the video was pretty much the nail in the coffin. It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t his business, he really didn’t know why he was asking. However, he couldn’t lie and say it hadn’t been on his mind for a while as he watched you from afar over the years. There had always been this suspicion that there had been more going on between you two than just being friends. 

You waited a second, the suspense killing him even though he felt like he knew the answer already. 

“We actually did date.” You answered bluntly.  

The words seemed to linger in the air for a second. You watched as Jungkook’s eyes widened as he seemed to take that in.

“Really?” He sounded surprised, but there was a trembling in his voice that made it seem like the news of the century. The shock hadn’t been real, but he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling that spread throughout his entire body as the words processed in his mind. So, he hadn’t been crazy. He suddenly had the very violent urge to throw up the lunch you had so kindly insisted for him to eat; that, or he could send you away and attempt to water down this feeling with anything he could find in his fridge.

You nodded.

“It was only for a few months, and we never really put a label on it at the time. It was dating in the most casual sense.”

Jungkook was too busy trying his best to ignore the way his heart squeezed, he didn’t even bother paying attention to your use of past tense.

“Again, it was only for a few months— we decided we were better off as friends than anything more at the end of it.”

Did you? Jungkook still saw the way Taehyung looked at you. He wondered how that conversation went. Was it you who made the decision and Taehyung just agreed? Maybe it was him, and Jungkook was wrong. He still didn’t like him.

“We didn’t tell anyone at work, not even Solmi officially; you know how office romances can go. Plus, we knew what people were saying, we didn’t want them to get excited and things didn't work out. But I guess we didn’t do a good job of hiding it.”

Turned out for the better.

“If it’s not too personal, can I ask what made you come to that conclusion?” He really was curious.

You looked around for a second, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to say too much; it’s mainly Taehyung’s business, and I don’t want to reveal anything he wouldn’t want me to, but Taehyung had a lot going on in his life when we started dating. Despite our connection, what he was going through made it hard for us to take things to the next level. It’s kinda hard to describe unless you’ve been in that situation. We had all the basics: we were attracted to each other, he was great company, and we really did mesh well. But the more we crossed into that territory, the more we realized something was missing at that time. It’s like we had all the right ingredients, but never the spark to actually turn it into anything.”

Jungkook didn’t really get the picture. What more did you need in a relationship? What was the “spark?”

He still nodded his head.

“When did this happen?”

“End of last year, slightly going into this one.” You recounted.

Again, that strange feeling of his heart tightening returned. He tried his best to ignore it. However, it wasn’t enough to stop him from asking his next question.

“Would you guys ever get back together? You mentioned he was going through something at the time… would you ever try again?” Jungkook felt his face flush as soon as the words left his mouth. This was probably way too personal. 

You looked noticeably shocked by his question, but maybe you wrote it off as the wine making him a little loose, or perhaps a slightly awkward attempt to keep this conversation going. Part of you considered whether you wanted to answer this question or not, but there was no harm in it really. 

“Um— I guess it’s not impossible. We ended things pretty open ended. Taehyung suggested that maybe we should try again when things finally got better for him, but it’s been months since then. We haven’t spoken about getting together, so I’m not sure. I just assumed he figured we’re better off as friends.” Your words trailed off at the end. 

Jungkook was tempted to ask if you wanted to get back together, but he stopped himself, not really wanting to hear the answer. You probably already thought he was weird.

Some much-needed silence passed for a little while. 

…

Jungkook shifted around in his chair awkwardly, desperately wanting to get the picture of you and Taehyung together out of his mind. He asked the first thing that he could think of, even though it really wasn’t much better. 

“Anything else exciting in the romance department?”

“Not really. Taehyung was probably the most recent. Things have been kinda dry since.” Suddenly, you seemed flustered. “Wait! Not in that way! Well… you know what I mean, right?” 

Now it was Jungkook’s turn to get warm, and he did a horrible job at brushing past the image you put in his head.

“Yeah— oh yeah, I know what you mean.” He spluttered, but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining being buried between your thighs. All of a sudden, his mind was back to that dream again and your pretty sounds as he slid through your warmth. Would you let him make you feel good? What he would give just for the chance to bring you some type of relief… All he wanted to do was make someone feel good.

But he was Jeon Jungkook. Even if he was in a position where he could, he doubted he would be able to do anything for you. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t do anything right. Nothing.

“What about you?” You suddenly asked to ease the tension in the air. “Has it always been your wife?” You were honestly expecting a sob story that would melt your heart as soon as it began, a nice transition to hopefully get away from the weirdness that had settled into the room.

“I guess you could say that— Yuri and I got married right after I graduated. Besides her, I never really dated anyone. I was so busy throughout high school trying to work on getting into a good college once it was decided I was going to be taking over the company— I thought I would wait and try the whole dating thing in college, but then I got there… things were even worse…” Jungkook trailed off.

“Until you met Yuri?” You piped in, wondering when she came into the story.

The mention of Yuri visibly shocked him. Right, because you and everyone else thought they met while in college— a silly suggestion by their parents that turned into a fiery romance that burned so hard they couldn’t wait to get married. If Jungkook were a better husband, that illusion would be so simple to keep up— it’d be so easy when speaking to people to forget about the contract that was signed along with their marriage license. 

But Jungkook wasn’t a good husband, he was a husband who made his wife feel miserable just by being in his presence, no matter how hard he tried. He was always a failure.

“Jungkook?” You questioned when he wasn’t answering, seemingly lost in thought again.

“Oh yeah! Yeah, then Yuri came into my life. Things were hard, but you know what they say, the worst storms always bloom the best flowers afterward.” Jungkook was lying through his teeth, and he wondered if you could tell. 

Going from college to being married was one shitstorm to the next, and it was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

He knew he must have looked strange at the way you continued to stare at him. But instead of pressing any further, you let the silence fill the air until you both finally got back to work. 

Jungkook typed away on his keyboard, but steadily his mind continued to fill with thoughts that felt like bombs going off in his mind— loud and destructive, the ones he knew would end him one day.

If you weren’t here, he would have downed that wine bottle, maybe a couple of beers too to try and bring the eye of the storm closer. But nothing he did was ever enough. It was never enough, just like he would never be. He was so tired, so tired of every single day being the same. He wanted peace, he wanted a happy marriage, he wanted to be a confident boss who assured everyone that Golden Tech was being handed over to a capable person.

Will the storm ever be over? Would he ever get to see the sunshine again? He was so fed up, and so, so tired. It would be so much easier that way. Nothing was helping anymore, no matter how much he’d drink, no matter how much he’d tell himself to get better, to make things better, that everything wrong with his life was his fault— nothing ever changed, nothing ever helped.

In the middle of the sea with no land in sight, sometimes drowning was your only option. His limbs hurt, he was exhausted from swimming too long, he was so tired, he couldn’t keep his head above the water. The sea underneath him no longer seemed like an angry beast trying to pull him down with all its might, he didn’t want to fight against it anymore, he wanted to relax, to let it embrace him, let it comfort him in a way that no earthly distraction could ever grant him. He wanted peace.

Peace. The quiet. He wanted it, needed it, he—

“Jungkook, do you like me?” Once again, you were here to cut through the darkness. At first, he didn’t even register your question until you quickly tried to backtrack. 

“That’s not what I meant— I… sorry I speak without thinking sometimes.” It seems like it happened all the time tonight, and that was all it took for Jungkook to remember he was here alone with you, and he wanted you bent over his desk.

Jungkook tried his best to ignore the way his cock pleaded for you and let you elaborate. 

“I was nearly finished with my work, and I had wanted to ask you this before I left… this might be a bit inappropriate, but I thought that maybe since we’ve been pretty casual with each other you wouldn’t mind if I asked whether you hated me or not.” You worriedly peered over at him.

Jungkook just stared at you, a little confused, wondering where this was coming from. It was right before you were about to elaborate that he understood. 

“Again, this might be out of line, but ever since my first day here, when I spilled coffee all over your suit, I’ve felt like I had a target on my back.” You were still trying to be professional, so you dumbed it down a little. If you said what you actually thought, you were sure you wouldn’t walk out of here with a job.

“I—I don’t hate you!” He rushed out.

He really didn’t, but you did piss him off, you still did. You pissed him off so much it didn’t make sense. It was confusing to him as well, but what happened with the coffee he knew was at the bottom of the list for his reasons— whatever they were.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m not oblivious; I can see how you treat everyone else on the team versus how you treat me. It’s been like that since my first day.”

It wasn’t a good look.

“I don’t hate you.” He stated a little more firmly this time; he really didn’t. “I will admit we didn’t meet on the best day or under the best circumstances— that just made things awkward from the get-go. But I don’t hate you, Y/n.”

By the look on your face— you still weren’t buying it.

“It’s not you, it’s me, I’m sorry. I have a lot going on in my life, and it seems like you’re often on the receiving end of it. Maybe it was the coffee at first, but I can assure you it’s not because of that.” Jungkook was scrambling, and you were still listening to him.

You already felt a little bad asking him this. Jungkook had a lot going on in his life, that much was obvious. The fact he let you drop the honorifics and gifted you an expensive bottle of wine should be enough proof that he couldn’t possibly hate you.

Unless the clear liquid turned out to be poison, but the fact you were sharing the bottle assured you that shouldn’t be the case. If Jungkook really did hate you, he had a weird way of showing it. But still, even if he didn’t mind your company, he manifested it in the strangest way possible.

“You always complete your work so well too, I can understand that it might be frustrating to you.” Jungkook was still rambling, but that much was true. You were a great employee and someone he could always rely on to get the work done well and on time.

“I’m so sorry.” He finally just pleaded.

You were truly amazing. Everything that he wasn’t.

His anger and frustration were misplaced, he knew that, and it wasn’t fair to you. An actual good boss wouldn't take out his frustrations on his employees, no matter what was going on in his personal life.

It just goes to show how good of a person he is.

“Jungkook, it’s fine. I just wanted to be sure there wasn’t any bad blood between us, especially if we’re going to work a lot more closely from here on out—“  It was then when you finally turned back to him. 

His breath had quickened slightly, he had leaned over his desk, and his hands had tangled into his hair. The long strands blocked his face, but you could tell something was wrong.

You reached a hand out and rested it on his forearm. The minute you did, he finally turned back to face you. Just like on the roof, you saw his eyes, and despite only having the city lights outside and the faint flicker of the candles, you could see the shininess.

It was terrifying, because you were close this time; you could perfectly see the despair that painted his features.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine— we’re almost done, let’s get through this, okay?” He quickly said, returning to typing on his keyboard.

“Jungkook—“ You tried, but he seemed adamant about finishing and getting the work done.

You sighed and followed his lead. You couldn’t ignore the guilt that coursed through your body. Once again, you missed the opportunity.

•────•──────────•────•

The bombs were back once again, and louder than ever it seemed. This happened every time his mind would wander in that direction, and it was almost impossible to turn it off once it started. With you here, it made his usual method of drinking until it stopped impossible unless he wanted to make a fool of himself in front of you. Instead, in order to ensure he wouldn’t lose it, he turned to the only thing he knew would drown the noise in his mind. You— you and that dream he had this morning.

His fingers were fast on the keyboard, but all he could picture as he stared at his screen was the fleeting memory of what it felt like to pound into you.

You on that meeting table, that purple blouse exposing your shoulders, your skirt around your waist, and in, out, in, out, his hips would move into your sopping heat. The drean was so fuzzy, and he hardly had a memory to draw from. It’s been ten months since he last had sex. Ten months of unbearable torture, much like what he experienced this morning.

He’s tried his best to be good to Yuri, assuring her that she was beautiful and telling her he wanted her now and always. Just last week, he had her clinging to their countertop as he was on his knees, pleasing her between her thighs.

It had nearly sent him over the edge untouched. Tears had filled his eyes because he was so sure he’d make another mistake, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her upset. 

He had tried to plead then, but he was too eager and said she had enough for the night. A cold shower had barely stopped him from giving into such disgusting urges, just like earlier today. Now he feared next time he wouldn’t be strong enough. 

If you weren’t right beside him, his hands would probably be in his pants right now. It was horrible, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be an adult and control himself. But that’s what the last ten months of his life had been like— Yuri testing him any chance she could, doing anything and everything to get under his skin. 

Yuri loved to tease him. He loved it too, it was only in those moments when he felt wanted. Didn’t she see how much he wanted her?

As childish as it was, Jungkook wanted to blame her for all this. Why couldn’t she listen? He had told her he wanted a break, a break from anything sexual for a while once he had recovered from pneumonia. It would offer the chance for them to work on and prioritize their relationship— just as he’d discussed with Dr. Min. He begged her to listen, that he would put in the effort so they could spend more quality time together to fill the void. He promised, but that short time she listened was absolutely miserable.

Yuri would wear those tiny shorts more often, and did everything she possibly could to get under his skin. He’d even walked into their room one day to see her using her fingers to do his job. She had forced him to just sit and watch, because it was his dumb idea and he had to pay for it.

It’s just been so long…

You sitting next to him was enough to send him over the edge. You and your short skirt, long legs, and that red lipstick. 

It’s been so long, he wished he could make his dream a reality; he wanted you bent over his desk right now, with your skirt pushed so far up he could watch your ass as he hurriedly pushed into you from behind. You would look so pretty, you always did.

He was desperate at this point, he needed something, anything… 

He had to get out of here. Jungkook wished he could count on Yuri being at the apartment, that she would see what she'd done to him and all would be well again, but he knew she wouldn’t. It’s not like he deserved it either. 

This was his rightful punishment. 

The fact things were so bad, the thought of an affair crossing his mind was sufficient proof that he deserved everything that was happening to him.

Jungkook was hardly paying attention to what he was typing, too focused on trying to stop the tears that were quickly welling up in his eyes and ignoring the way his cock throbbed. 

He was hard, painfully so— in public, and he was right next to you. 

He felt it happen, budget numbers being replaced in his mind with despondency, and how in a haste to escape his darker thoughts, his brain tried to go somewhere a little more buoyant, and instead fixated on the lewdness of what you did to him. That need to feel you, just the thought of feeling you, touching you— for you to need him, he wanted so badly for someone to need him.

This was so embarrassing…

“Alright! I think I’m done on my side~” You celebrated, and it was horrible how when he looked over and saw your bright smile, it just made things worse.

He wanted you. 

It was then that Jungkook realized he’d just been staring at his monitor for a while. It seems he’d been done as well. 

You picked up immediately that something was still off in the look you gave him.

“Uh— uh yeah, me too. We can be done here for tonight. We can meet in the morning and review everything before the meeting later.” Jungkook rushed as he hurriedly shut his computer off.

He needed to get out of here.

He knew his haste shocked you a bit. With his monitor off, a newfound darkness had filled the room, and his speed hurried you to shut off your laptop as well.

Jungkook recorked the wine he was giving you before he tried to get up inconspicuously, turning away from you as much as he could. Even with the darkness in his office, he felt it would be hard to hide what his dirty mind had done to him. 

He couldn’t let you see, he was already so ashamed. 

If you saw this…

His eyes were watery as he shakily got up from his chair. This was so embarrassing…

After you turned your laptop off, you got up too, noticing Jungkook was trying to hurry this up. You didn’t blame him; it was already near one in the morning, but you could still sense something was wrong.

“Jungkook?” You called out as you rested a hand on his shoulder, completely stopping him in his tracks. His eyes glanced down at your hand and then back up at you. You weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes the longer you stared into them. You couldn’t exactly read it; it was similar to what you saw on the roof. 

It made you hot in an instant as you got lost in his dark gaze. You knew you weren’t mistaken this time as you watched him scan over you. The candlelight flickered in between you, illuminating his shiny eyes and how obvious they settled on your lips. It just made you aware how nice his arm felt under your touch, and how alone you both were in the office. This was bad. 

What were you doing? 

“Is everything alright?” You questioned, your voice so meek you wanted to slap yourself. You needed to get it together. 

This causedJungkook to snap out of it as well, finally tearing his eyes away from you. “I— um, I’m fine.” It didn’t sound confident at all, and you noticed. 

You might have questioned it, but you knew you needed to get out of here. 

“Si— Jungkook, I’ll be right back!” You hurried as you started wheeling the chair you stole from Secretary Yu’s desk out the room.

“Alright.” He said weakly as you quickly passed by. 

As soon as the door closed behind you, the tears he had been holding back finally fell down his cheeks. This was just so embarrassing, it hurt so much. He just needed a minute or two alone, that’s all, and he could ease the ache. But that also means giving in, disappointing Yuri more than he already has.

Jungkook quickly wiped his face, scared you might come in any second now, and instead worked on blowing out the candles that were still burning around the room.

The darker it was, the less likely you’d see his shame.

Jungkook made quick work of blowing the candles out around the room, first going to the ones on the little tables, then he came back to where he had placed the most, on his desk.

As much as he wished this was a sufficient distraction, it wasn’t. He was still thinking about you and how much he wished you would be the one to help him, he would take anything at this point.

He was blowing out the last candle when he heard the door open again.

“Woah, you did a lot without me.” You remarked, seeing the room darkened by the candles being out already. And he was glad he worked so fast. One candle and he feared that would have been enough for you to notice what he was hiding.

It was disgusting how badly he wanted you.

“Y-yeah, I don’t want to keep you here later than necessary.” He stuttered and shakily turned around to face you.

Jungkook was nearly blown away seeing how gorgeous you were. The window bathed you in a beautiful glow that was only achievable by the moonlight. You were absolutely stunning, a goddess, a temptress pulling him in to commit the most horrible acts; and it was working.

Your heels steadily clicked as you walked, your red-stained lips that were turned up into a warm smile lured him even further into temptation, all the while your twinkling eyes peered over his quivering body.

He wanted you so badly…

The sweet perfume you were wearing just made the tears in his eyes grow even heavier, you smelled really good. He would do anything to relieve this ache. The desire was mind numbing at this point.

Jungkook hardly noticed both of your jackets and the scarf he’d worn were in your hands.

You handed him his jacket with a weak smile. It took him a minute to realize what you were doing, too busy staring into your shimmering orbs that would always have him choked up anytime he tried to speak to you.

“Jungkook?” You called out worriedly.

“U-uh I-I’m sorry.” He tried to laugh it off as he grabbed it, but he failed miserably, and it sounded more like a choked sob. He was hoping you’d brush it off as he quickly put on his black, fuzzy trench coat, but he knew it was too late in the way his vision grew blurry from tears. The dam had been broken and he just couldn’t stop it anymore.

You were still holding his scarf when he finally looked back up at you, and the look of concern in your face was unmistakable. You could see his despair.

“Jungkook…” Your voice was so soft and warm, like a flame lit in the dead of night. You reached up to drape the scarf across his shoulders, but your eyes were still locked into his, like you were staring right through his soul and could easily see everything.

Standing so close, you could see the pain hidden behind the starry way his eyes would shine, you could feel the hurt— they were just like Mi-Sun’s. Your hand lingered on his shoulders, before you finally found the confidence to reach your hand up and ever so gently cup his cheek.

Like on instinct, he couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling further into your warmth, a flicker of light in the frozen tundra he had become. It was an overwhelming affection he had never known, and while you may have just done it because of how pathetic he looked, it was something. He closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the taste of the haven he’d been craving for years.

“Jungkook, are you ok?” You finally asked earnestly because he genuinely looked like he was about to break. 

Jimin had been the only person to ever ask him that. He thought he’d been doing well at hiding from everyone the storm that raged on in his mind, but hearing you could clearly see something was wrong…

It felt real, too real.

You looked so worried, and as he felt your hand on his cheek, he just broke down.

Jungkook shook his head as tears easily slipped past his eyes and trickled down your hand. 

He wasn’t fine, he was the furthest from fine. Sometimes he wished the earth would swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to wake up and feel like this every single day. He hadn’t been fine in years, and the weight of it all came crashing down at that very moment. He could tell you were about to question him further, but he didn’t give you the chance as his hand slowly came up and snaked around your waist to pull you close.

Jungkook didn’t know what he was doing, this was wrong on so many levels and went against everything he stood for, but in the moment he didn’t think, he just wanted to stop the pain. 

That warmth, he needed you.

Jungkook pulled you so close, closer than you both stood earlier in the hallway on the roof, you could probably feel the shame he was trying to hide.

Time stood still for a second as he stared down at your red-stained lips, the bright color like a lighthouse for a desperate sailor in the middle of a storm. You were the refuge he needed, and right now, he didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you.

Jungkook leaned forward so he could rest his head in the crook of your neck and bathed in the sweet scent of your perfume. He was so worthless that even just that seemed to make the ache worse.

He felt your arms wrap around his waist and you pulled him a little closer. The movement was slight, but it created just enough friction for a soft, unmistakable moan to escape his lips.

You could certainly feel it now.  

Jungkook felt like his skin was on fire, only moments away from boiling over, and you were the only one who could fix this. 

He lifted his head slowly, his face still wet with the tears that continuously spilled from his sad eyes. The hand that had been on your waist quickly trailed up your side to settle on your jawline, his thumb so gently grazed across your cheek.

You were dangerously close, he’d never experienced a need to this degree. He needed you, he wanted you so badly he wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

“Please— I need— can we…” You probably could barely hear him, his voice hoarse from the strain and he was shaking so much. 

But it seemed he didn’t need to elaborate; you knew what he wanted. Your hand came up from his waist to grab his shoulders to pull him closer, making his lips not even centimeters from yours.

Jungkook lost it. He couldn’t stop himself as he finally closed the distance. His lips were on yours in a haste, but he was slow and gentle as you both tried to process the fact this was happening. 

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he tasted the sweetness of the wine you both drank only moments before. Your lips were so soft, pillowy, and inviting. He could feel the soft tickle of your breath beneath his nose, gently pulling you close, as you breathed each other in.

The world around him seemed to disappear at that moment. He forgot about Yuri, he forgot about his marriage, he forgot how shitty he’s been feeling, he forgot about the contract, he forgot who he was. Right now, he wasn’t the future CEO of the second-biggest tech provider in the country— he was just Jeon Jungkook.

Nothing else mattered in the moment. It was just you, him, and ten months' worth of bottled-up lust.

His touch was hesitant at first, like he was so sure any moment you might change your mind. He thought you would, he was sure you would, that you would realize what he was doing, and your appalled reaction would be enough to finally wake him up and make him register what he’d just done. His brain was shot, but he remembered what this was usually like, waiting for the moment when you would say something, yell, scream, complain that he wasn’t good enough. He didn’t think he was, but that just made him more desperate. He wanted to prove himself.

But you never stopped him as his hands steadily grew more fervent, tugging at your white button-up and traveling down your sides to grab and touch as much as he could, settling just above the curve of your ass. The kiss quickly grew more heated, from slow, sensual pecks, to you both were practically trying to eat each other, building the ever-growing heat that settled between you two. It wasn’t a slow flame that steadily spread, but an explosion of lust that violently consumed everything in its path. 

Your hands grew curious, playing with the button-up he had tucked into his black slacks, and occasionally pressing down into the belt wrapped around his waist.

The sensation made Jungkook’s knees almost give out entirely. He fell back slightly onto his desk that sat behind him, breaking the kiss for just a second.

The moment was brief, but Jungkook used it as the perfect opportunity to finally let his hands slip under your skirt. He gripped your ass, enjoying the way the soft skin felt in his grasp way too much.

Fuck.

Jungkook didn’t know how it happened; all he could remember was hearing you gasp as he suddenly flipped you both around and had you pinned against his desk. He didn’t give you any time to process what was happening, because his lips were back on yours with even more ferocity. He just had to feel you. 

It hurt so much.

Jungkook could hardly help you up, the kiss grew more intense, and all he heard was the sound of anything in the way being forcefully pushed back— some things clattering to the ground, your heels even falling off in the commotion. But he couldn’t care less, not with the way you were clinging onto him as desperately as he needed to feel you.

It was messy, so fucking messy as he kissed you with all the pent-up lust that’s been building since you walked into him with your coffee. Your teeth clinked together more often than not. Jungkook was kissing you so hard, at some point he was so sure he was going to actually climb inside you.

But it felt so good.

Your legs hastily came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his needy self to where he wanted to be so fucking badly. The moan he let out was embarrassing; it was more like a whimper in all honesty, but he couldn’t stop thinking about this morning and all the dreams he had of being in this exact position.

His hips eagerly chased yours, desperate, so fucking embarrassingly desperate for any type of friction.

Everything was happening so fast, and still, the tears didn’t stop pouring out of his eyes. It was so sad, Jungkook couldn’t even kiss you anymore. The moment his aching cock felt your clothed heat against his, kissing you proved impossible. 

His mind felt like the most chaotic storm; he felt drunk not off the wine you shared, but of you, and he wanted so much more.

“Oh—“ You cried.

Just a few glides of his hips and he had you making such pretty sounds, even better than what he remembered from his dream. He only got greedier, and his pace increased too much.

He was going to cum.

“F-fuuu-uck” he tried to hold it back, but it just came out as something in between a moan and a sob. 

“It’s ok…” Your voice was soft and gentle as you tried to get him to look at you again. His eyes were so pretty, you wanted to see them again.

“I need you so bad.” Jungkook cried into the crook of your neck.

It hurt so much. He wanted to cum, any longer, and he was sure this was going to turn into a horrible disaster. He was so tempted to keep going just like this, to rock into you until he came in his pants like he was sure to at any moment.

“You can— have me— it’s alright.” Your voice was so soothing, but hicked when his hips came to meet yours in a haste. Your hand came up to run through his long hair. 

The affection was new, something he hadn’t experienced before, which made things so much worse.

It physically pained him to pull away, even for just a second, as he moved over and straddled your thigh— that wasn’t his intention, but your thigh was right there as he worked to change the position, and he needed to feel anything to ease the ache.

On instinct, your thigh raised up, and he could have cried— he was crying. He hadn’t stopped crying since you walked in— it just felt so good. His brain was scrambled, but he couldn’t— he wouldn’t allow himself to cum until he was inside you. He wanted to be selfish. He needed you.

Jungkook grabbed your chin so you would look up at him. He took a second to admire your delicate features; you were absolutely stunning, and he hated it. To drown out the agony, he kissed you lightly before moving to your cheek and he trailed down to your neck.

“Jungkook…” His name fell so prettily from your lips as your arm wrapped around his neck.

For a split second, Jungkook thought about Taehyung— he wondered if while you were together he got to see you like this, if you moaned his name so beautifully. It was only for a second, but it was enough to get him to suck a little harder on your skin, so that it would leave a mark.

He hoped it would.

“Don’t stop—” You whined. 

Jungkook let his hand travel down your body, stopping when he felt the buttons of your shirt. He needed this shit off now.

Using what very little brain power he had left, he tried to focus on getting the buttons undone, but it proved to be an impossible task. He was only using one hand, and Jungkook was more than distracted with painting your neck and enjoying the subtle pleasure of rubbing himself along your thigh.

Frustrated, Jungkook did the only thing his horny brain could think of at that moment, and pulled the fabric until the buttons snapped. For a second, he hoped he didn’t break any of them, but the worry quickly went away as he noticed the newly exposed skin and the pretty black bra you were wearing. His hands were eager and massaged your mounds with need. He was almost hypnotized as the moonlight outside painted your body and the feel of your soft skin in his hands.

The ache just got worse when he heard the soft sighs of pleasure fall from your red-stained lips. It delighted him too much seeing how it was smeared across your face. 

He hoped you weren’t too disappointed when he pulled away, but he hastily pulled up your skirt so it was bunched around your waist, just like it had been in his dream. The sight was even more bewitching than he imagined when he noticed what you were wearing.

Jungkook had too many fantasies where he would rip your stockings off to fuck you, but unlike what he’d pictured, you weren’t wearing stockings like he had expected, but the black sheer that covered your legs were thigh highs.

He just stared for a second because the wave of need that washed over him, didn’t make any sense at all. 

He whimpered as the picture started to become clearer, the sheer fabric coming up your legs to the lacy ends, your skirt bunched around your waist, and the black panties he could now see covering your core. It was hot; you were so hot, and he wanted to ruin you.

Suddenly, you grabbed his hand that was resting on your thigh. He looked into your eyes and could see the concern behind your gaze.

“You’re shaking…” You whispered so gently.

Jungkook looked down at his hand, and indeed he was.

Why? He didn’t know, and he didn’t really care at that moment. Jungkook did what he wanted to for so long, instead of answering, he shut you up with a kiss. Sometimes, you really did talk too much. No more talking; he couldn’t even think straight anymore to form an actual sentence. Instead, he used what little brain power he had left and let his hand slide up your thigh to hover right over your panties.

Jungkook barely touched you, but you were already bucking into his hand, like you were just begging for more. The arm you had wrapped around his neck tightened to pull him closer.

“Jungkook, please, please touch me.” You looked him directly in the eyes as you broke the kiss. 

He’d never heard those words before, and he knew from that point on that they should be illegal in how much they affected him. He wanted to please you—

Jungkook didn’t waste anymore time, and let his fingers brush over your clothed heat. He nearly lost his mind feeling the fabric damp already.

Did he do that?

“Please…” You whined, and Jungkook nearly broke after seeing the look on your face seemingly growing more frustrated.

He loved it too much.

Jungkook pressed into you a little harder, the fabric growing wetter by the second, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you. You clung onto him tighter when he pushed your panties to the side, finally letting his fingers run through your soaked folds. You cried out, and he almost did too when your pretty whines grew more desperate.

His fingers stopped once they reached your clit, rubbing tiny circles across the bud. Jungkook’s heart nearly beat out of his chest at your reaction, the way you shook and moaned underneath him, and he reveled in your pleas for more.

It just made him more eager once his fingers came down to your pleading hole, slowly pushing the digits inside you. 

The ache was unbearable now.

You cried out for him, it was his name that fell from your lips, and he couldn’t stop imagining it was his cock instead as he pushed in further. 

He wished it was.

You felt so good, so warm, so tight, and he still couldn’t get over how wet you were. He could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as they pumped inside you, just imagining this was his cock alone could have made him cum.

And so could you, the suddenness of everything had your body on high alert, every new sensation, so unexpected you couldn’t keep up. It was all too much, his body on yours, his fingers inside of you, his pained whimpers as he steadily rubbed himself along your thigh.

Too much, yet you wanted more, you wanted so much more. You wanted to make him feel good too, so good that he wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“Jungkook, please.” You cried, pulling him close. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, but you relished in the sensation, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. Even in that moment, you couldn’t stop focusing on how wet his cheeks were and the feeling of more tears trickling down onto you.

You wanted him to be ok.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, pulling away slightly; he sped up his pace, enjoying the slick sounds of his fingers moving inside you and your pleading reaction way too much.

You cried and moaned so easily for him, like you both weren’t in his office right now, like you weren’t getting fingerfucked on his desk. It was dirty, and he hated how much he loved this.

“Does this feel good?” His raspy whisper right into your ear just made it all worse.

And it was all too much, he wanted to be inside you so badly, and he knew that if he waited any longer, he wouldn’t make it. 

“Yes, yes— fuck, yes!” You answered, clinging onto him just a little tighter.

He was already so close. Pathetic, so fucking pathetic.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook finally found the strength to pull his fingers out of you. What he would have given to see you fall apart on his fingers, but not when he felt like he was seconds away from combusting. He had to hurry this up.

You whined at how empty you felt all of a sudden and were about to question it, maybe even scream because you were getting so close, but the moment of clarity let you feel his shaky hand on your thigh as he sank to his knees.

You looked at him confused as to what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for you to get the picture as he started spreading your thighs once again.

You pulled on his hair lightly, making him look up at you with his big, bright, bewildered, round eyes. You felt your body light a blaze at the sight, so innocent in such a dirty position.

“No time. Want you inside me.” It was blunt, but the moment didn’t allow for anything more. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to still seem confused. 

“You— you don’t need me to—“ His voice was just as shaky as his hands were. He genuinely seemed confused.

“Just fuck me, please.” You whined, your hand coming down to rest under his chin. His eyes were red and watery, and you just hated it. You’d do anything to see him better.

Jungkook steadily rose to his feet once again, but that brief moment of pause was short-lived, as he was on you in a haste, lips on lips, needing, chasing, he had to feel you.

Jungkook had been so worried, so worried he’d disappoint you, he’d nearly burst into tears when he got on his knees knowing he couldn’t eat you out without making a mistake. Then you said it, just like Yuri did after she came back from that New Year’s party. You wanted him, needing him to make you feel good. “Just fuck me, please.” He’d never forget it, to the point it was replaying in his head even now, as he tried his best to make that one thing happen.

He just had to last a little longer. 

Jungkook scrambled, trying to feel you, kiss you, and get his belt loose. It was all too much, why he ever decided to wear belts in the first place was beyond him at the moment. So little was in the way, he had your permission, and all that stood in between what he wanted were a few thin layers of fabric.

He desperately rubbed himself against you, needing the friction as he kissed you, fuck, why wasn’t he inside you yet?!

Then your hands eagerly raked across his back, trying to pull him close. Yuri had never done that to him, and it was too much, too much when he’s not inside you yet. Jungkook tried again to get his belt off, but he couldn’t think anymore and was growing more desperate by the second, your hands, fuck he was so close. 

Tears spilled out of his eyes, so worried he was about to embarrass himself when he was so close, but then you swooped in to save the day.

You broke the kiss when you noticed he was struggling a bit, and decided to help.  

He looked so pretty like this, the moonlight highlighting all of his delicate features, his eyes sparkling so sadly in the light. He looked sad, so sad that if you made one wrong move, he’d burst into tears. What could possibly be making him feel this way?

Your hands ran up his back, over his shoulders, and down to the buttons of his shirt. You didn’t miss the way he shivered, his eyes fluttered closed, and his grip on your thigh grew tighter as you went past his neck. 

Your hands were a little shaky, but you managed to undo them all. As more was revealed, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of Jungkook being absolutely built. You had a feeling he worked out, but the sight of his firm chest, then his defined abs was one shock after another. 

It was bad how much you needed him.

It was lucky you were so distracted that you entirely missed how red Jungkook’s face had become under your gaze. He was scared, scared of you seeing him like this and thinking he was just as pathetic as Yuri says. What if you hated—

With his shirt undone, you slowly ran your hands over his warm skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Down his nape, chest, abs, and then eventually settling on his belt. 

Jungkook tried his best not to rut into you like some animal, but he had never been touched like this before, and he feared he was seconds away from exploding because of how good it felt. 

Taking him out of his spiraling thoughts, you hurriedly tugged on his belt, finally getting it undone so you could unfasten his pants.

His eyes were watery once again, feeling your hands graze past the prominent outline in his slacks. 

“P-Please!” He cried because it hurt so much, and he just wanted to feel you. His voice was hoarse, sounding more like a pained sob than anything coherent, but he needed anything at this point. 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You whispered right in his ear as you finally freed his aching length. 

Jungkook didn’t know what he was expecting, just enough help so he could finally push himself inside you, but then you didn’t let go. It didn’t fully register until you stared directly into his watery eyes and started dragging your hand slowly up his length. Jungkook could have screamed, he really wanted to, and would have if his voice wasn’t so hoarse. Maybe he was and he didn’t even realize it.

As you reached the tip, you focused all your attention on massaging the head, wanting to get a reaction out of him. You were pleasantly surprised as your thumb ran over the tip, the amount of pre-cum that seemed to just leak onto your fingers…

“Oh god.” He groaned, his voice was so shaky as he writhed in your grasp. He quickly had to shut his eyes, the pleasure was too much.

“Does this feel good?” Your voice was gentle once again, and Jungkook felt like he was moments away from blowing it. A strangled moan he couldn’t hold back left his lips.  

He couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening. Your hand was…? You were touching him? It was strange, horrible even, that for a moment he thought about Yuri, back in April when he practically begged her to touch him, just like this. He had begged her, but with you, he didn’t even need to ask. 

It was awful, so fucking horrific, but your hand was too much to handle as you went from running your fingers over the tip to steadily pumping his cock. Jungkook immediately knew he should have said something; each glide of your hand sent him closer to an edge he was practically hanging off of already, but fuck. This was pathetic, absolutely pathetic.

Jungkook whined as he buried himself into your shoulder and pushed you further into the desk. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something, to stop you. It would have been so easy. He knew deep down he didn’t want to. He moaned as he subtly rocked his hips into your grasp, he thought of this morning, how easily Yuri stopped, and the thought of having that taken away again.

He should have said something, he didn’t need to see your face to know you weren’t expecting this to go as far as it did. 

You’d only wanted to tease him a little before he finally filled you up, but maybe you should have realized how close he was. You certainly weren’t expecting his hoarse moans to grow louder and pained. 

His grip on your thighs quickly tightened, and suddenly, with a very pained cry, you felt wetness across your fingers. 

A colossal wave of pleasure hit him all at once with a strangled cry, a feeling he hadn’t felt after nearly a year. It was more than ecstasy, a high he never wanted to end, the most he’d felt in months. For a second, his life wasn’t a mess. He was happy, and everything was fine. It was overwhelming, and his knees nearly gave out entirely as you started gently pumping his length to help work his way through his high. 

It was a terrible mix of the pleasure he’d craved for months, and the guilt of being the failure he knew he was. Months of waiting, and he couldn’t at least make it inside you. It was embarrassing, pathetic, and not to mention as the ropes continued to come with each flick of your wrist, deep down he knew he truly had made a loathsome mistake because it just wouldn’t stop.

But it felt so good, it seemed never ending as each glide from your hand brought more euphoria than his brain ever thought was possible to experience. Yet the searing guilt that simmered behind the pleasure made his mangled moans turn into sobs. He was bawling in your arms, his tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. 

Your free hand gently rubbed his back to try and soothe him. He was shaking.

“I—I’m so sorry— so sorry.” Jungkook choked out. He clung to you a little tighter and buried himself further into your neck. He didn’t want to see the disappointed look on your face, he wouldn’t be able to bare it—

“Jungkook, it’s ok…” You tried to comfort him, feeling yourself getting a little emotional.

Your reassurance meant nothing, if anything it just made him more upset; he hated pity. This was a mistake, he was so disappointing, that’s all he ever did was make people disappointed. 

You seemed to notice your words didn’t do anything, so you pulled him out of your neck so he could look at you.

But instead of meeting your eyes, he immediately moved far back enough to see the scene of the crime. You were practically covered in his cum, your hand that had been grasping his length was coated in it, and your shirt and skirt were ruined with his mess. Ten months of shame and he’d covered you in it. 

Jungkook’s face burned at the sight.

His gaze finally pulled away to look into your eyes. Even in the darkness, you could see how wet and red his face was, but the tears never stopped as the guilt and embarrassment continued to take over him.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t—“ He tried to feign, but he was lying right through his teeth. He could have told you to stop sooner, but he didn’t want to; he had just been so close. 

Your sympathetic eyes just made things worse as you continued to look at him. 

“I wanted to—“ He wanted to fuck you, that much was true. As nice as your hand felt, he wanted more, so much more. To think he could have been buried deep inside you if he hadn't given in so quickly. 

“Jungkook, it’s ok, don’t worry about it.” You tried to reassure him, but with the haze of his orgasm fading, reality began to hit him at full force. 

He ruined your clothes, and he literally came all over you like a fucking teenager. How much more embarrassing could he be?!

“I can replace them if you want.” He sniffled out, but he felr like could barely understand him through his sobs. 

“It’s ok, I’m serious.” Your slight smile gave him more sympathy than he deserved. 

You turned around and noticed the tissue box beside you. You let him go, making a slight whine escape his lips as you did so, and you grabbed a tissue to start cleaning yourself up. 

…

To make matters worse, if he couldn’t get any more despicable, the lack of contact made a horrible realization dawn upon him. 

He still wanted more. Instead of the guilt from his actions, the burn raged on, a little tamer this time, but it was still there sizzling, waiting to erupt once again at any moment.

You finally looked up, noticing his apologies had become too quiet and his hands had begun to steadily run over your waist again. You hoped this meant Jungkook realized everything was alright and that there were no hard feelings, but you were a little shocked to see his dazed gaze staring directly down at your opened-up shirt that had your black bra still exposed. 

There was a hunger in his eyes you recognized from earlier. Hmmmm…

You put the tissue down before you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close. You were delighted at the sound of his gasp as he was tugged flush against your chest. You kissed his neck, before you moved back up to trail kisses along his jaw up to his ear. His grip on your thigh grew tighter with each move you made.

“Did you want to keep going?” Your voice was soft as you felt him shiver in your grasp.

“We—we don’t have to!” His voice was a lot louder than yours, like he was trying to defend himself from being led into a trap, but you felt his grip tighten around your waist.

The number of times he’d begged Yuri for a second chance anytime he came too quickly, he couldn’t believe this was real. This had to be a trap, you were trying to embarrass him, weren’t you? You wanted to ruin him. 

“You think you’re up for it?” You asked once again, your tone dropping to an octave that made his whole body shiver. 

If only you knew he could keep it up the whole night. Jungkook couldn’t say anything, he almost didn’t want to; at any moment, he thought you would take it back.

“You don’t know what you’re doing…” He whispered, lightly rubbing his cheek against yours. You were unlocking a part of himself he was scared to face. He didn’t think he could come back from this.

“I do… don’t worry.” Your tone was low as your teeth grazed across his ear. A moan fell from his lips before he could stop it. He felt like an animal as his mind thought about all the things he wanted to do to you. Instead of the degradation he’d expect from Yuri, his silence was rewarded with you wrapping your hand around his semi-hard length and pumping him once again ever so gently, careful not to overstimulate him too much. 

Jungkook could have screamed; his voice was too hoarse, but a guttural moan escaped his lips before he could even realize it. He couldn’t believe it; he had to be dreaming. But dream or not, that didn’t stop his softening length from beginning to grow hard once again in your grasp. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you.

“Please…” It was a sad, desperate plea. He just had to feel you once tonight.

This time, you didn’t hesitate to spread your legs for him, using one hand to pull your panties to the side and the other to rub him through your folds. You were absolutely soaked. A whine fell from both your lips as Jungkook resisted every urge to fuck into you. 

He could probably cum just from this again if you kept this up.

You didn’t tease him for long, seeing his expression growing increasingly impatient. You couldn’t wait any longer either, as you took it upon yourself to guide his tip to your dripping hole. 

You sighed in relief as Jungkook finally took control and slowly sank himself further into you. The more you took, the more you could have screamed, the fit filling you up in all the right places.

How much you wanted him to just destroy you…

Jungkook wanted to do just that, but the sweet sting of overstimulation made his worked-up length that much more sensitive to a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. His eyes stung from the tears, and he felt drunk off the warmth of your walls wrapping around him, almost pleading to milk him of anything he had left. 

Too fast, and he knew you’d do just that.

He waited, as much as his body didn’t want to, but he wanted to try and make things right this time. He wanted to make you feel good too.

Soft sighs of pleasure escaped you, but you still tried to focus your mouth on his neck— gently sucking on a spot where he quickly found out was surprisingly sensitive. 

“Fuck…” He groaned. This was all new to him, and he wanted more.

“Y/n… can I move?” Jungkook rushed out. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind.

“Please…” You begged, just as desperate. 

Your plea was all he needed for him to slowly pull his hips out before shakily pushing back in. An embarrassing series of whines left his mouth in the process, not at all thinking about how loud he was anymore.

Tears spilled out of his eyes as the slick sounds started to fill his office. It was overwhelming in the best way possible. This was worse than his first time, he felt like a virgin all over again as he moved through your sopping heat, he wasn’t going to last long at all. 

Jungkook immediately had to focus on not cumming again, feeling the edge approaching so quickly, but he had to make you feel good this time.

His pace was a little awkward at first; he was too eager at times to feel you, making him fumble his rhythm, but he was quick at getting back in the groove of things. 

“Jungkook—“ You moaned out, your legs wrapping around his waist so he wouldn’t go far. You just needed him close, as close as he could get.

Fuck, how long has it been? Were you really this desperate? 

You clung onto him tightly, hearing his pretty whines with each glide of his hips. 

If you thought about it too much right now, you might come back down to the reality of the consequences of your actions. Weren’t you both about to leave just moments ago? But you didn’t think about it, you honestly couldn’t think about it as his cock glided past that spot that made you see stars. 

Fuck.

You both reveled in the pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin and the subtle sounds of the creaking of his desk anytime he’d push inside you. Random objects would get knocked off occasionally as he pushed you further onto the desk, but neither of you cared, too focused on chasing a high that was quickly approaching.

Your hand ran through his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation, while the other was down his back, your manicured nails dragging across the white fabric that you knew would probably leave a mark. 

Your moans nearly drowned out his own,, but you both seemingly didn’t care about the fact that you were in public. 

Jungkook’s mind was filled with nothing but white-hot need, your hands on his body, it had never been like this, it had never felt like this. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself except fuck into you as quickly as his body would let him, any second spent apart was too long, needing to stay buried in your warmth.

You were fucking touching him— someone— touch— fuck.

“C-c-close!” Jungkook rushed out suddenly. He hurriedly wrapped his arm around your back and lifted your thigh so he could fuck into you even deeper. He just couldn’t get enough. Why did this feel so good?!

Jungkook wanted to delay it as much as he could so you would feel good too, but then your lips were on his neck and suddenly he had no self-control.

Still so sensitive from his last orgasm, fresh tears spilled from his eyes as he felt himself speeding toward the edge.

“Can I—“ He wanted to ask for permission, but at this point, he feared a no wouldn’t even be enough. 

“It’s okay… let go for me.” Your voice, always so sweet as you focused on running your fingers through his hair. It felt so good, so good that he wanted to cry right there in your arms. He could have, if that feeling hadn’t finally spilled over into another embarrassing whine.

“I’m sorry— so sorry, sorry, I’m—“

His rhythm turned frantic, then got sloppy, chasing, and chasing, till he buried his face in your shoulder as he came again, ropes and ropes of cum filling you up. It was hard to believe he came just minutes ago.

He sounded like he was crying again, maybe he was, but the pleasure overtook any realization of his surroundings. Jungkook’s moans turned silent, his voice too hoarse for anything louder. He wanted to scream, just wave after wave of pleasure hit him as he steadily thrusted into you. You were so nice, you always were, as you gently kissed his neck and rubbed his back.

You knew he needed it, you could feel the tears across your neck and the way he lightly shook in your arms. 

It had never been that intense before; a full minute passed and he was still getting hit with the shakes as another wave would hit. 

It was so good, so good, but he wasn’t satisfied just yet. 

Jungkook eventually found the strength to pull himself slightly away from your shoulder. Your kind eyes looked at him with so much concern, that he hardly gave you any time to process before he was kissing you again. It was a slow, sensual kiss, and his hand came up to cup your cheek so that he could have you just a little closer. A brief moment of calm, a second to settle your beating hearts.

It was at that moment, without you noticing, Jungkook slid his hand in between your bodies. You didn’t realize it until you felt his fingers on your clit, earning an immediate gasp out of you. Jungkook hummed lightly before kissing down your neck. 

You were so sensitive and so close already… 

“Cum for me…” Jungkook whispered across your skin. 

You will, you wanted to so badly.

“Jungkook—“

His fingers quickly picked up the pace, and you cried out for him. Jungkook could feel you tightening around his cock, spent, but greedy for more, as he started slowly thrusting into you once more. 

He groaned. You felt so good— it just didn’t make sense.

This was about you though, and he had to make you feel just as good as you had made him. Jungkook relished in the way you clung onto him as your orgasm grew nearer. You were so close, he could feel it. 

His fingers were skilled, so skilled you hardly had time to process before you came face to face with the edge you craved more than anything at that moment. 

“Please— please, fuck, fuck, please!” You cried, and Jungkook nearly did too at how tightly you were squeezing him. Overstimulation, two orgasms, and the pain mixed with pleasure, had him speeding to his third. But this was all about you, and he pulled away to watch your expression as you fell apart.

Jungkook almost didn’t feel worthy as he watched your eyes roll back, and your moans and pleas turned into one big sigh of relief as your orgasm washed over you. You gripped him hard, and you had him crying out with you, cumming for the third time today.

It probably was a little over a minute since his last one, and he didn’t have much to give, but you made sure to milk him of everything he had left, and he loved it.

You, this, everything, it was so good. 

Jungkook, through the haziness of it all, helped you both through it, his hips steadily rocking into you, and his fingers still at work until you whined at the overstimulation.

Jungkook quickly pulled you in for another kiss. It was lazy, you both were exhausted at this point, but Jungkook craved the affection more than ever as the rush, the heat, burn, and desire started to settle down. All that was left in its wake was the startling realization of what you both had just done. 

The wetness began to pool in between you, his body ached, the guilt was beginning to wash over him, and the treacherous reality he ran from was back.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook eventually found the strength to pull out of you. It hurt physically speaking, but it was even worse mentally. He didn’t want to leave, not with how warm and wet you were around him. It took everything in him to slowly but surely leave your warm embrace, a pained whine falling from his lips, before he took a step back. 

Your hooded eyes stared at him as you breathed heavily. He was probably doing the same, but he could hardly pay attention as he stared at his mess: 

Your lipstick was heavily smeared, your hair disheveled, your legs still spread with your skirt bunched up around your waist, your stockings had runs all over them, and your panties he’d pulled to the side were back in place but soaked with a mix of both of your juices.

Jungkook wanted to feel ashamed; he should, he had ruined you, but your fucked out expression only made a startling realization come over him. He liked seeing you like this, and it made the flame that had started to quell, spark once again.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right. 

Jungkook should feel guilty right now. Not only had he ruined his marriage, you were also now caught up in his mess. Instead, all that resided as you both calmed down, was a startling numbness. 

He should feel guilty, but it was so fucking horrible how much he enjoyed it. This was a relief Jungkook had never known could come from sex. He was spent, exhausted, yet craved more all at the same time. 

But he really did feel bad, seeing you like this, and Yuri… however, that’s not what his mind could focus on. As horrible as it was, he felt… good.

Jungkook gently helped you off his desk. Your knees were a little wobbly, but he held onto you tightly as he guided you over to the couch. 

You silently thanked him and watched as he went to grab your coat and shoes, which had dropped to the floor during the commotion. As soon as he handed it to you, he then kindly went over to pack up your laptop for you and grab the bottle of wine.

It was sweet, too sweet almost, considering what the fuck just happened.

You and Jungkook… you and Jungkook?

This was the same Jungkook you hated until about a month ago. This was the same Jungkook who had made your life at work hell for nearly two years. This was the same Jungkook that was married. 

You started to put on your stuff, Jungkook picked up all things that had fallen off his desk, before he had his own coat and scarf in hand, and he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. You were quickly reminded how you found yourself in this situation as he practically collapsed. A pained sigh left his lips and his hands were tangled in his hair once again. 

You quickly scooted over. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” Jungkook cried, his sad eyes only looking at you for a second before his hair was in the way again. 

This… this is precisely why. Something about the look in his eyes, the pain in his voice, it was too much, and you wanted to do anything to fix that. 

You let your arm wrap around him. “You want to talk about it?” Your voice, soft and gentle as always. 

Jungkook didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly do at this point? It was really hitting him. He had done it, he truly had lost it.

His panic started getting to you as well, and you were realizing the mess you had just got yourself into. As concerned as you felt for Jungkook, you now were involved in an affair. His wife’s pictures that sat around his office felt like they were bearing into you, judging you for sleeping with her husband. How could you? Not only that, but this happened with your boss, at your job, who was fucking married.

The reason this happened in the first place was unknown, but what justification could there be for both of you? 

Jungkook tried his best to pull himself together as you both got up to begin your journey downstairs, but how could he go home now?

You both made a quick stop to the bathroom to clean yourselves up. 

You could hardly believe the sight you saw in the mirror. You finally saw the glorious mess Jungkook had made of you, your cheeks warmed at the sight the fluorescent lights granted you. You were a mess…

You tried to quickly cover up the evidence of your misdeed. You wiped your shirt and skirt so the stains wouldn’t be so noticeable, and with the brush you kept in your purse, you tried to smooth your hair down and style it so that it covered the marks across your neck. You then tried to make your clothes sit the way they did before you walked into his office earlier, tucking your top in and smoothing out your skirt.

You wiped down your face, and with a quick reapplication of your makeup, you were as good as new again— well, as new as you needed to be at nearly 1:30 in the morning.

Despite having more to do, you were left waiting outside the bathrooms on Jungkook for a little while. 

He’d walked in and the sight he saw in the mirror was equally as alluring as it was horrendous. His face was red and puffy, and his hair was sticking up in every direction. But the way your lipstick covered his face… his lips were smeared with it, just like yours had been. It was all over his cheeks, even his neck had red stains, and seeing that had him feeling funny all over again.

Jungkook was ashamed that he looked past it all, and enjoyed the way your lipstick painted his skin.

He nearly had another breakdown at the realization, and he had to give himself a pep talk to come out of the bathroom and face you again. His thoughts were quickly spiraling, and he felt himself getting jittery again. It was the same way he felt in Dr. Min’s office, the same way that would plague him occasionally, and he was stuck alone for hours trying to get himself together to face the world again. He probably would have collapsed and locked himself in the bathroom if you weren’t waiting on him.

He likely came out looking worse than he did coming in. Your lipstick was gone, but he had been stuck inside trying to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling from his eyes.

Eventually, you both made your way to the elevators.

Jungkook had offered to drive you home considering how late it was. You probably would have said no considering the situation, but you didn’t really think about how you would get home beforehand. You honestly didn’t think you’d be here this long, but you also knew Taehyung would have no issue coming to pick you up. 

He lived close by, and he’d been there many times before when the buses and subways were closed. Even at the oddest times of night, he always knew when you were out and would be there to get you. You would have called him, but considering you looked like a mess, surely Taehyung was bound to ask questions about what happened during your evening with the boss. That was the last thing you needed, keeping as few people involved as possible was the better option. Plus, he had spent the night partying, and you doubted if he was available or even sober enough to drive you.

Jungkook it was then.

Things were noticeably awkward between you two. As you both waited for the elevator, a notable distance separated you two, and a painful silence settled in the air.

“You never answered my question earlier…” Things felt different now. The further you walked from the sanctuary of his office, the more real it became. You honestly wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened. You both stepped inside and Jungkook hit the button down to the garage. 

What could he say?

“What excuse could I give?” Jungkook sounded distraught and you started feeling bad once again. 

“I mean… I don’t mean to impose, but considering what happened… you just don’t seem fine.” You spoke sincerely, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook leaned against the elevator wall, and with the lights shining down on his face, you could clearly see the wetness staining his cheeks. 

There was a moment of silence as your statement lingered in the air, but eventually Jungkook worked up the courage to say something, anything really, he owed you that much at least. 

“It's an arranged marriage.” Jungkook's voice was still hoarse, and a tear rolled down his cheek as the words left his mouth. He really hated telling people.

You were visibly shocked at this, eyes widening as his words processed in your mind. You thought it was weird he was married, but you didn’t think arranged marriages happened anymore, especially here. Even if they did, that didn’t matter, he was still so young. 

“It’s been hard over the years… really, really hard, but that doesn’t excuse anything.” Jungkook was vague, however it was still something. 

As you both stepped out of the elevator, into the short hallway, and out the parking garage, Jungkook offered once again to get your clothes professionally cleaned or replaced if that’s what you preferred, when he still noticed the stain on your skirt under the light. 

You thanked him, but you didn’t want to be indebted to him. Instead, you said you’d handle it yourself.

Plus, now you can call it even.

It was awkward again as he pushed open the door and you both walked to his car. It was one of the only ones down here, but who else would own a Mercedes?

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t… I’m sorry…” Jungkook was lying through his teeth. He wished he wasn’t, but as bad as he felt, no one had ever made him feel that good before.

“Look.” You stopped in your tracks, making him stop with you.

“You obviously seem to be going through a lot, I get that. But Jungkook, I don't want to be involved in this.” You were serious as you spoke. 

“That’s your business. Tonight did not happen. Tomorrow we’ll come into work like none of this happened. You won’t ever need to worry about me telling anyone. This was a fluke, a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened. I trust you’ll do the same. That’s as simple as it needs to be.” You seemed mad, and as much as you were right, Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his chest tightened at your words.

A fluke, a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened. It hurt so much for some reason, but you were right in the end.

Jungkook just nodded, knowing he would have a breakdown if he tried to say anything. But what could he say anyway? You were right.

You both steadily made it to his car, a sleek, black, 2022 Mercedes AMG GT 53 4-door Coupe. This was his personal car, not the fancy SUV his driver would always take him around in, but whenever Jungkook worked late nights like this, he’d normally drive himself to work and give Dae-Jung the day off.

You tried not to show how impressed you were as you got in. It really was a nice car with the pretty LED lights dimly illuminating the matching black interior. Then the sound it made as he started it up, and with one hand on the wheel, he pulled out of the underground garage…

If things were different, this definitely would have easily made you fold— a good looking guy driving a sexy car was a thing you knew you had, but this was a married man who you just had an affair with.

Now was certainly not the time.

The ride was silent, aside from when Jungkook asked for your apartment’s address. What else was there to say really?

You were mad. You wanted to put all the blame on Jungkook for getting you involved with this mess, but it takes two to tango as they say. You never stopped him when he pulled you close and you didn’t want to. You were just as mad at him as you were at yourself.

You knew he was married, yet you kept going, you wanted more, and relished when he finally filled you up. And his eyes, he seemed so sad, you wanted to do anything to make him feel better. 

As Jungkook drove you home, a new look seemed to settle behind his gaze. Before he seemed like he was constantly at the point of breaking, but now it was nothingness, lifelessness, a void contained in his dark orbs. 

Were you too harsh earlier? That’s the way it had to be though, this had to be a mistake you would never acknowledge at any point going forward. But maybe there was a better way to say it. Something clearly wasn’t right, and you were still concerned at the end of the day.

The late hour offered minimal traffic so you were pulling up to your apartment building just a little over twenty minutes later.

You were quick to grab your stuff and push open the door to get out, but not without a glance at the man beside you whose hair almost entirely shielded his gaze. His hands on the steering wheel were tight and he never once looked at you. 

“Jungkook…” That gentle tone was back and he finally looked at you.

He seemed dazed almost. 

“You should probably talk to someone. You seem to be going through a lot, and even though you were vague with me, someone out there will listen to you. Not going to lie, I’m a little worried… you remind me so much of a friend who went through a lot and… It might really help talking to a professional.” You held that same look of concern you had right before he kissed you.

It was so bad, he wanted to do it again.

Jungkook felt his cheeks warm at the thought, remembering how it felt to have your lips against his.

He weakly tried to laugh it off. “You aren’t the first person who’s said that.” 

“You might really benefit from it. I suggest trying it out.” 

Jungkook nodded. The last time he attempted therapy it didn’t go so well, but then again, he had only gone twice. 

You gave him a weak smile before you swung your bag over your shoulder and started walking toward the entrance. Jungkook stayed until he made sure you made it inside, and then he was driving off. 

His head was empty as he drove down the road, no tears, no pain, no anything. Instead, he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier, it had never felt like that before, not once had it felt like that before.

Your hands, your lips, your body, your our skirt bunched up around your waist, your thigh-highs, that lacy black bra you had on underneath, your smeared lipstick. It replayed in his head over and over again. By the time Jungkook made it home it was going on three. He was tired, his body ached, his mind spent, but there was only one thing he could focus on as he punched in the code to the door. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised when he opened the door to find the apartment, dark, empty, and he was alone, like always. Yuri had texted him right before you walked in his office that the shoot was in fact running long and she wouldn’t be home until early in the morning. It was almost a relief that she wasn’t here. He didn’t know what he would have done if she was, but the silence was painful. Silence let his mind wander off too much, and in the silence the realization of his actions hit him once again. 

Jungkook’s eyes started to blur as he looked at the pictures that were sprinkled around the apartment of the two of them. He felt terrible, but not like how he should have.

This was actually his worst nightmare, he had turned his marriage from one that could have posed as real as any other, into that fake shit his parents put up with. Jungkook had turned into the person he detested the most, and there was nothing he could do to come back from it. He should feel terrible, so fucking terrible. He should prepare to get on his knees and beg for Yuri’s forgiveness, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. He had been such a terrible husband over the years and the one thing he thought he’d never betray was the fact he was faithful and he’d always try his best to make their relationship work.

What now? Had he just given up? Jungkook wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to do worse, he wanted to make it hurt, but instead, he just sank down against the door.

All he could think about was you and how good it felt. Was it just because he was so sensitive? It really had been so long, but it had never been like that before. Never, not even in the memory he held so closely— Yuri and him in the hot tub at the Maldives. It had never felt like that.

Jungkook should feel guilty, and he did, but only because he didn’t feel bad. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, your hands, your lips, you, you, you.

Despite the fiasco in his office, the ride over with him and his stupid fucking mind that wouldn’t shut up, had his cock aching all over again. He was hard, and he wished so much you would have invited him upstairs so he could have stayed in your arms all night long. He would have said yes if you offered.

He wanted you so badly, but this wasn’t right. 

Jungkook wanted to fix this, he easily could have, the memories were vivid and he so badly wanted to feel good again. But the tears finally fell on his cheeks when he remembered Yuri and how disappointed she would be. He couldn't do that, he couldn't, he fucking couldn’t.

He was a disappointment, Yuri was right about everything. He was pathetic, his life couldn’t get any worse.

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[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #37 - Pierced]

“When Jungkook’s lip ring finally healed and you can’t resist each other anymore.”

Genre: Smut, married life!AU

Warnings: switch!Jungkook, switch!Reader, it goes from Dom!Kook to sub!Kook to Dom!Kook, tattooed & pierced!JK, he’s got his lip & nipples pierced, he ties his long hair together nfdnf, muscle & strength kink, lil bit of thigh riding, sex outside on a sun bed, messy oral (f.receiving), some biting, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampies, she rides him to an orgasm, body hair kink aye, she smothers him with her tits, nipple sucking, lotsa drool, subby boy tears, dirty talk, praise, a lil bit of degradation, he has such a lose tongue, they are very horny & needy & just wanna fuck, cuddly aftercare, they are in love!!

Wordcount: 5.4k

a/n: there is no thought behind this drabble. it’s a crime that i never wrote about his lip ring until now. enjoy besties, this was created from the depths of my pussy 🧡

You are in the little greenhouse in your garden when Jungkook comes home. Your tomato plants, which you and Jungkook have carefully raised from infant seedlings to healthy six foot plants, are finally starting to flower and you are currently making sure that no bugs or other insects nibble on them. Yes, you are very protective over your tomato plants. 

After reading an article about self-sustaining living, you developed an obsession with growing as much of your food as possible. You asked Hoseok for help – given how he is already a complete expert at it – and Seokjin gave you some tips as well. Jungkook called it way too time consuming at first, but soon gave in with a fond smile. He even helped you build the greenhouse and soon after, the plant growing fever took a hold of him as well. 

It was when the first of your tomato seed experiments grew a little sprout. You can still remember how Jungkook called you in the middle of your shift with the great news of “babe, you won’t believe what just happened but tomato number ten just grew a sprout.” It was a truly exciting day in your marriage. 

Now come early summer and all your vegetable and fruit plants are thriving, ready to be pollinated and later carry fruit. 

The glass door opens and Jungkook steps inside. 

“Hey there.”

You turn, placing the sheers down on your working table. 

“And?” you ask him, eyeing it. 

There was something else new in your relationship. It was on Jungkook’s body, his lower lip to be more exact. A small metal ring close to the right corner of his mouth. A lip piercing. 

It was a well-thought-through decision of his’, one you completely support. Not only because it is his body and he can decorate it with whatever he wants, but also because you always had a gist that he would look amazing with a lip piercing. And you were correct. He looks so handsome with it. Truly, each day you fall more and more in love with this man. 

The only downside came with the healing. No touching except for when he has to clean it. That is what the piercer told Jungkook. Which meant no kissing and truly, it left you feeling unbearably needy for him. Eight long and grueling weeks of not being able to kiss your husband. It sounds like torture and it truly was. Especially because you and he were so used to kissing all the time. Soft little morning pecks, sweet goodbye kisses, the relieved smooch of comfort after a long work day, sleepy kisses, desperate making out or the loving surprise kiss throughout the day. You and your husband love kissing. So to be unable to feel each other’s lips for eight long weeks felt like torture. You tried to kiss him one time, but that ended in Jungkook yelping up in pain and bleeding a little. You apologised a million times with tears in your eyes whilst he assured you that it wasn’t your fault and after that, you never tried to kiss again.

Today however, you hope that he comes bearing good news. 

“And? What did he say? Has it healed?”

Jungkook steps closer, but stays silent. 

“Talk to me, I can’t take the silence” you whine, shrugging off your gloves. 

He takes another step. 

“Come on, tell me. I wanna know”, you stress, stomping your foot. Truth was, you have been sitting on needles the entire day, wishing for his quick return. All you did today was take care of your garden and think of Jungkook’s kiss. If he doesn’t answer you soon – or take your face to kiss you stupid – you will burst. You can’t bear the longing anymore.

“Kookie, please tell me”, you plead, staring at his lips. 

Jungkook breaks the last of the distance between the two of you, cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. 

Your knees buckle, a moan slips past your lips. Everything that was wrong is right again. The world finally starts turning and colour returns to your universe. You are kissing your husband! You tilt your body back as Jungkook presses himself into you, your arms hook behind his head. Holy fuck. Yes.

You grab a bundle of his long hair, twisting it to the point where Jungkook moans into your mouth. Or perhaps he is moaning because all he has been craving was your kiss. Driving home from the piercer with news of finally having healed sitting heavily on his heart was torture. All he wanted to be was to be home with you and have you in his arms. Eight weeks without your kiss and Jungkook had reached his breaking point. If he had to live without your kiss for even one second longer, he would have actually combusted.

Jungkook breaks the kiss, breathing just as heavily as you. He didn’t want to break it, but air was sparse in his lungs. Fuck, if he could live on only your kiss, he would. But alas, he has to breathe, running his hands over your face as if it was the first time he ever touches you.

“I missed you”, he whispers, “I missed you so fucking much.”

“Me too, Kook. More, kiss me please.”

Jungkook obeys gladly, kissing you so deeply that nothing could separate the two of you. His strong arm slings around your waist, pressing you into his body. His long fingers close around you, reminding you why it is so nice to be touched by him. He does it with so much tenderness, but also with just enough strength to let you know that he was there. That you were his' and that he intends on never letting you go. 

You run your hand down his torso until you can touch his waist. He shivers and pushes you until the back of your legs hit the edge of the work table. Like this, he can cage you in and keep you right there with him. Not that he needs to do anything for that. You want to be with him. This is all you crave. 

You gasp for air again. Your faces are barely apart. His cock is hard. Well, not completely but still swollen enough that you can feel it poke your tummy. You grind yourself against it, feasting on the desperate whimper he lets out. You are so turned on yourself. Your desperation is soaking your panties. His kiss and loving touch does that to you.

“Fuck”, he chuckles breathily, “you’re messing with me.”

“I can feel it”, you sigh, “I’m so wet too.”

“It’s been too long.”

“Kook, just fucking take me.”

“Jump.”

You follow instantly. Jungkook catches you safely, tensing his muscles just for you. You fucking love to be in his arms and feel him tense. It gets you so fucking wet. Moaning his name, you cup his face and pull him into a kiss.

The walk back to the house gets difficult, but Jungkook wouldn’t want it any other way. These few seconds without your kiss where you talked felt like torture. He needs your faces to literally melt with each other. He missed you so goddamn much.

Jungkook manages as far as the terrace and then he has to drop you. Not because you grew too heavy for him, but because he needed you so bad that it got impossible to walk. So he sets you down gently, massaging your hips. He breaks the kiss, holding your hips to grind you against him. He makes sure to lift his leg so your pussy was grinding on his thigh. You whimper because of it, looking up at him with glassy, droopy eyes.

“Koo…”

“I need you to lie down, baby”, he rasps, “I fucking can’t wait any longer.”

“The sun bed?”

“Yeah, please. If you want.”

“I want to. You?”

“Baby, I’ve been thinking about you the whole drive home ‘course I fucking want you”, he says and pushes his thigh against your pussy, making you moan, “please. Please lie down for me.”

“You’re so hot, fuck”, you say and step back. You waste no time getting naked. You would have to fumble with your clothes later either way. It’s better to get it over with now and safe yourself the trouble.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, Jungkook moans, watching you with heavy eyes. He tongues his lip ring, driving you mad with it.

You step out of your sundress and panties and finally lie down on the sun bed. You give him a sensual writhe, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

“And now?” you ask him.

Jungkook takes off his shirt and shorts. He knows that he won’t be needing them anymore. His cock is completely hard, slapping against his toned stomach and leaking the prettiest droplets of excitement.

“So pretty”, you whine, “Koo, I want you.”

Jungkook takes his heavy cock and jerks it twice, “you can”, he lulls, falling to his knees in front of you. He grabs you by your ankles and tugs you to the edge even if that makes you squeak and later giggle.

“This was so much fun”, you squeal.

He chuckles, eyes glued to your glistening pussy and hands running along your inner thighs, “you’re so cute”, he says and pushes gently, nudging your legs open so he can lower himself to your pussy.

“Oh?” you squeak, tensing up, “o-oh”, you relax in a shudder, arching your back seconds later, “holy fuck.”

Jungkook growls against you, gripping your waist to give it a needy squeeze.

“I missed you”, he moans, “holy fuck, you’re heaven”, he adds and buries his face back in your leaking cunt. He doesn’t think about cleanliness right now. He is messy and sloppy and fucking dirty in the way he eats your pussy and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He can finally have you again, taste you, feel you, experience you and make you moan so fucking sweetly. Eight long weeks without your taste. Jungkook never wants to experience such agonies again. He felt like an addict denied of his favourite drug. And now he needs to be covered in you. It is all he needs.

“Slow please”, you beg with trembling thighs, “Koo, you’re too fast oh god.”

Eight long weeks without feeling his tongue. Bear in mind, you weren’t abstinent from each other. You still touched each other, made the other cum and found yourselves lost in deep rolls of your hips. It never felt truly fulfilling of course because you weren’t able to kiss, but you weren’t completely abstinent from each other. So you shouldn’t be that sensitive right now. But you are. His tongue feels like paradise. A paradise which is currently making your legs shake like there is no tomorrow.

He is so sloppy in the way he eats you out. His tongue can’t seem to stay at one place for too long as greed for more of you always keeps it busy. His lips are sucking and kissing every inch of your pussy until she feels all puffy and sensitive. You can feel his lip ring whenever he closes his lips around you. Hard, thin metal, hot from his body and your pussy and incredibly maddening to experience. There is this little grinding sensation whenever he uses his lips on you. You can’t get enough of it, reaching down to twist his hair.

You mess it up the point where it hangs into his face and gets stuck between his lips and your pussy.

“Baby”, he breaks away, “stop tugging so much, you’re messing up my hair.”

“I can’t help it, you’re so good. Don’t stop, please”, you whine, tugging him closer. More of his hair falls into his face. Jungkook chuckles and with a gentle shake of his head, shakes off your hands.

“No, please”, you beg, trying and failing to reach for him.

He leans back. You look at him with a big pout. It gets washed away instantly as you watch him use his teeth to take off the black hair tie from his wrist. He keeps it tangling between them, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. His lips glisten in your juices, his lip ring is wet from your sex. He reaches behind his own head and combs his hair back. His tattooed, sculpted arms flex and tense as he works, making you whimper because all you need is him. All of him. You need him so bad.

Once he is happy with the style, he holds up the ponytail with one hand and uses the other to get the hair tie. His arms pulsate and flex as he secures it, his chest stretches in the position, his nipple piercings practically beg for your attention.

Jungkook finally finishes the ponytail, giving you a taunting smirk. He is aware how into the little show you were.

“Kook please”, you beg, opening your legs for him.

“I’m obsessed with you”, he growls and grabs your hips. He spits on your pussy only to smother himself with you a second later and slurp up the mess he just made. He uses his entire head for the movements, changing between sucking your pussy and grinding the flat of his tongue against it.

“Kook”, you mewl, reaching for his hands. You know that you can’t hold his hair anymore. He made sure of that when he tied it back. But you still need to hold something of him. He makes you shake so much that you need to hold him for encouragement. He allows you to intertwine your fingers with him, running his thumbs over your skin in a soothing manner. It almost feels like mockery, how gently he soothes you while his mouth makes you shake so uncontrollably. A mockery you enjoy to the fullest because you get to hold Jungkook’s hands and that’s the best thing ever!

“You have no idea how much I needed this”, he rasps, letting his voice vibrate against your clit, “I want you to cum like this, baby. It’s all I need.”

“Soon”, you keen, squeezing his hands.

“Mhhm, baby”, his deep voice makes your thighs shake, “you make me the happiest man.”

And with that he disappears in your warmth again, giving your hands a squeeze and growling into your pussy. 

You fall apart on his tongue mere moments later. Everything felt way too good. It is all you needed to be fulfilled. 

You sob his name as you climax while Jungkook licks your clit through the fire and squeezes your hands. 

Seven times you convulse and tense. Seven times you lose control over your limbs. Seven times and then his tongue feels like too much.

“Break”, you beg him and Jungkook listens. 

“Good girl”, he praises, kissing your clit as a reward. You are still pulsating. Jungkook wants more, but knows not to overstep. 

Instead, he kisses his way up your recovering body, sucking on your nipples when he reaches them. His big hands cup your softness, massaging you gently. It feels so good to be touched this way.

“Kook”, you mewl softly, tangling your fingers in the hair he left outside. He has so much of it that it still easily hides your hand. The softness of it soothes you like nothing else. Jungkook contrasts it by giving your left nipple a soft bite. It stings, making you keen in pleasure.

He purrs, letting your sensitive bud slip from his teeth just so he can drag his lips up to your face. His lip ring tickles wherever it touches you, leaving you to writhe and whine.

“Look at me”, he says once he is eye to eye with you.

You follow instantly, cupping his cheeks because all you needed was to hold him.

“You did so well for me”, he praises, smiling softly, “but I’m not done with you.”

You whimper, arching your back.

“You made me hard and you gotta be my good girl and take care of it. Yeah?”

You nod your head vigorously.

“That’s my good girl, I knew you wouldn’t deny me”, he says and brushes his thumb over your cheek, “can I get comfy and then you ride my cock? Mhm baby? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Koo”, you say, trembling in anticipation.

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how happy this makes me”, he says and rewards you with a kiss.

You moan deeply, hooking your arms behind his head just to make sure he can’t escape. He tastes like your orgasm. Sweet and intense. You want to lick it off of him. He tastes so good. Holy fuck, you need this kiss to never stop.

Jungkook is halfway on the sun bed this way. With one foot he is standing on the ground, while he has the other pulled up on the sun bed, resting his knee between your legs and grinding you against his skin. You’ve got him all sticky and wet like this. Jungkook gets off on the feeling like an addict.

“Koo”, you whimper and wiggle away, “Koo, it hurts. Too sensitive.”

“Hurts?” he lessens the pressure, “I’m sorry, baby. How’s that?”

“Good. Doesn’t….Kook, please fuck me.”

“So needy”, he teases and smiles cockily, “fine, let’s switch places.”

Your places are swapped within seconds. The sun bed is big enough that it can house Jungkook and you comfortably. Your knees have enough space to rest beside his hips and you could even spread them wider if you wanted to. Soft cushioning gives you enough knee support as well. The black fabric has been warmed up by the sun, but it feels comfortable on your skin. 

Jungkook falls back and yelps up.

“What’s wrong?” you gasp.

“Ponytail. Uncomfy. It’s poking my literal brain”, he says and sits up. You have to be honest, all you did was stare at his toned abs as he did. They were bulging and shifting like crazy. They still do, because Jungkook opens his ponytail with both hands, using his abs to keep himself lifted.

He is the sexiest man alive.

You reach out and run your fingers over the ridges of his abs. The scorching sun and your body made his skin burn up. The faintest layer of sweat has collected in the valleys of his abs, now sticking to your fingertips and getting spread all over his silken skin.

Jungkook watches you with hungry eyes, lifting himself just a little bit more to make his abs bulge even harder. You gulp, grinding your pussy down on his thick thigh. You are so wet, Jungkook can feel it. Adorable, he thinks, you aren’t even aware of how much you stare.

You dance your fingers down his abs until you reach his happy trail. Jungkook has never been a hairy man. He has his healthy amount of leg and arm hair, can grow out his pits and always keeps his bush well taken care of. But other than that, he has never been one particularly hairy fellow. So his happy trail is faint and you like to call it pretty, but it’s there. Even if just a little bit, it’s there and you are currently dragging your nails through it and Jungkook feels himself shiver at the sensation. You add more fingers once you reach his pubes, burying them deep in them just so you can scratch along his skin. His cock throbs because of you, leaking desperately.

Your eyes finally flit up. They are burning in fiery hunger for him. Your fingers still play with his hair, scratching him just above his cock. He smirks cockily.

“I wanna bounce on your cock till you’re begging me to stop”, you rasp and grab the base of his cock.

His smirk drops as his lips part in a gasp. Jungkook writhes because of how harshly you hold him. The pressure goes straight to his balls, keeping them from leaking any more precum for you.

“Fuck. Sweetheart”, he moans and throws the hair tie to the side. He finally drops down, gripping your thighs to the point where his fingertips dimple your flesh. His hair spreads on the cushion messily. Strands of it fall into his face.

You lift yourself and position your pussy over his cock. You give your clit a soft spank with it, sending a jolt through Jungkook’s legs.

“Ready?”

“Uh...yeah? What a ques-”

You sink down on him in one go.

Jungkook throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut.

“-fuck!”

“Mhhm Kookie baby….you’re filling me up so well”, you moan and begin bouncing on him. You don’t need to get used to him. He fits you like no other. All you need is to fuck yourself senseless on him and steal his sanity while you’re at it.

Jungkook moans loudly, his hands slip to your waist to hold it. He doesn’t guide you. He doesn’t need to because you know what you are fucking doing, but also because he has no strength in him to tell you what you should do. Once he’s on his back and got you on his cock, he is your fucking slave. If you want it fast and rough? Jungkook is happy to get wet and sensitive in your perfect cunt. If you want it slow and deep? Jungkook is more than happy to grow as big as he can and whimper your name. You want his orgasm quick? Jungkook just hopes that he can breathe between all the moaning he has to do. You want to drag it out? Fuck, he’s going to suffer but he’s not going to complain for even a second. He’s your little sexdoll and you can get yourself off as you desire.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, he chants, feeling his brain pound behind his skull.

“You’re so big Kookie baby, I can’t get enough of you”, you moan, leaning your weight on his tummy. You know that he can take it. His abs are rock hard under your palms, convulsing each time your cunt meets the base of his cock and your ass slams down on his thighs. “it’s like you’re made for me. My pussy can’t get enough of being drilled by you, baby.”

“Don’t please”, he begs, “either fuck me or talk, don’t do both”, he whines.

“Why?” you chuckle.

“Cause together is too hot”, he mewls, rolling his head to the side and squeezing your waist, “I’m getting fucked so good”, he keens with his voice pitched in utter pleasure.

“You’re adorable”, you say, sliding your hands up his torso until you can rest them next to his head. Like this your tits bounce all into his face, “open your eyes, Kook.”

Jungkook obeys and sobs your name, reaching for your tits instantly just to press them together and bury his face in them. He sucks and licks and kisses, using way too much spit for it which makes it all the more addicting. You know that once he is done, your skin will be covered in sensitive spots where he sucked for too long and your nipples will be throbbing. Just how you like it. You arch your back to smother him even further and stick out your ass. His cock curves in this position, grinding over your favourite spots inside with each movement.

“That’s it, suck my tits. You’re such a hungry little baby”, you taunt him as you wiggle your hips on him in a skilled rhythm. The kind which makes his toes curl and forces him to make the neediest little sounds into your tits, “so good baby, you’ve got the best fucking cock.”

He is stuck on your right nipple. You know that he has no control over it. You are scrambling his brain. He can’t think. Nor move. Sucking on your nipple is an instinctive, dumb reaction to getting his cock bounced on. This isn’t something he does willingly, it’s the only way he can take what you give him. And it’s starting to hurt. Jungkook sucks with such vigour that it’s getting uncomfortable.

You tug him away with a harsh grip on his hair. His spit drips all over his lower face, his eyes open. There are tears sitting on his pretty, dark lashes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his gaze just that little bit droopy.

“I have another nipple too, you know?” you say, “use your brain to think.”

His cock throbs inside you and leaks angrily. He squeezes your waist, curling his toes.

“You’re so mean”, he presses out and arches his back.

“I am? Oh baby, I’m sorry”, you coo, “you know that I don’t mean it.”

Jungkook whimpers and opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue. You know that he is asking for your nipple. But you are in a teasing mood.

You lean down and lick his tongue before you wrap your lips around it to suck on it to the point where he moans into your mouth and scratches up your back. The sensation leaves a slight burn behind and forces you to growl into him like a needy animal. 

Jungkook swears that he is going to pass out. You are messing with him way too much. He expected anything but this. Maybe he should have expected it. He is married to the nastiest, most amazing sex goddess after all.

You release his tongue with a purr, claiming his lips next. The kiss is deep and messy. Tongues dance with each other in an unidentifiable rhythm, teeth manage to clash together every so often which results in you giggling and moaning into the other and your lips can’t seem to get enough of feeling the other’s. His cock feels a million times better now that you are kissing him. You don’t feel the need to give him ruthless bounces anymore. Just deep grinding. The kind which shifts his cock inside you and always keeps it pressed to your favourite spot. Your clit grinds against his tummy this way as well. The pressure and his warmth are enough to send a constant stream of electricity through your veins.

Air is sparse in your lungs. You gotta breathe. You break the kiss. Both of you pant for air. Just ten seconds of distance. He uses the time to hold onto your shoulders, you use the time to twist his hair. His lips call you back. You kiss him, concentrating your attention on his lip ring area. Your tongue traces the metal ring, your lips kiss and suck it and you even dare to tug on it with your teeth as carefully as possible.

“Holy fuck”, his talking forces the piercing to slip from your lips.

“What’s wrong? Hurts?” you ask.

“That feels incredible”, he says.

“Mhm. Yeah?” you flick your tongue over it, “not gonna lie, kinda obsessed with it.”

“Just kiss me, mommy”, he whines and hooks his fingers behind your head.

“Did you just call me-”

“Shut up”, he interrupts you and pulls you down into the kiss. He keeps you close with his nails scratching over your scalp and his puffy lips chasing your kiss. He props his feet up on the sun bed and thrusts up into you.

You squeak, falling to your elbows this way. Your tits squish against his chest, rubbing against his nipple piercings and making him whimper. Your sweaty skins melt together. He took over, now slamming his cock into you in a deep and hasty rhythm. You convulse on top of him and break the kiss just to hide away in the crook of his neck and wail his name.

He hugs you against his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

“I love you”, he growls, “holy fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too”, you squeak, “Kook, Kookie, Jungkookie oh god baby.”

“I fucking love this pussy”, he grips your ass and uses the leverage to move your hips on his cock, “shit, you feel so good.”

“Oh god”, you sob, “Kook, this making me cum.”

“Yeah? Good”, he spits and moans squeakily. Despite his rough fucking and harsh grip, he moans cutely. His voice is all pitched and breathy, barely wanting to come out from how messed up you got him. The contrast is making your head pound.

“Holy fuck, I’m close”, you get out, “fuck, your cock’s so good. Fuck baby, fuck.”

“Same, fucking same”, he growls, “don’t hold back, baby. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Deeper.”

Jungkook tenses his thighs and fucks his cock as deep as he can go.

“Yes!” you wail, starting to convulse on top of him as your body prepares for the messiest high, “yes! Yes! Yes!”

“That’s it baby, take my cock. Take my fucking cock, you’re doing so good. Oh fuck, I’m gonna nut so hard”, he is rambling. He always does that when he gets too lost in you and his mind is running on nothing but you, “gonna fucking cream your sweet little pussy, god I want you so bad. Fuck baby, you drive me insane.”

“Koo, I’m cumming”, you mewl and break apart, clutching him for dear life as your veins fill with fiery ecstasy.

“Yes baby, fuck holy fuck”, Jungkook’s voice changes in pitch, he barely gets the words out, “oh fuck, you’re squeezing my cock like crazy. God, I love you. My princess, keep cumming, that’s it.”

You have to be honest, you barely take in what he says. You know that he is talking and it’s making you so wet that he barely manages to stay inside, but his words don’t really stay in your brain. You are so far gone in the blissful embrace of your orgasm. He makes you feel just way too good.

“Oh god, baby I can’t hold back anymore”, he mewls and squeezes you tightly, “___!”

His hips drop and still, his cock throbs inside you and the loudest squeaks leave him. You can feel how his hot cum shoots up your pussy and how it’s leaking out of you because you’re milking him like crazy.

Still delirious from your own orgasm, you grind on him messily and without any sort of rhythm. You just want to make him feel good and be with him for as long as possible.

Your bodies naturally slow down. You know each other so well that it is your bodies’ instinct to stop once it turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable. Messy grinds turn into barely there rocks of your hips, these turn into the occasional clench of your walls until even that stops and you are resting atop his chest while both of you are panting for air.

You don’t need to talk – hell, neither of you could – as recovering with each other is already enough to comfort you.

Once those seconds turned into minutes and Jungkook’s softened cock naturally slipped out of you, you are the one to finally break the comfortable silence.

“So that just happened.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, rubbing his palm up and down your back, “fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck”, you agree, “that was amazing.”

“It was fucking incredible”, he says and laughs again.

You join him because it feels good to laugh with him. Especially after sex.

“So uhm”, you say, nudging his neck with your nose, “wanna talk about the M-bomb you just dropped?”

“Shut up”, he whines, “I had your tits in my face and you were so sexy, it slipped outta me.”

“No don’t apologise, it was hot as fuck. You just never said that before”, you say and giggle, “you’re cute, baby.”

“Mhhm, it’s ‘cause you messin’ wit’ me”, he lulls and hugs you tightly, “always makin’ me feel so good.”

“Yeah same. You make me feel so good too”, you say and lift your head just so you can finally look at his face. He looks as ruined as you feel. It’s the sexiest look on him, “I’m already obsessed with the lip ring.”

“Yeah same”, Jungkook says, licking over it, “now I gotta think of techniques to use it on you when I eat you out.”

“Mhhm that sounds like fun”, you say, tracing it with your finger, “I can’t wait to explore it with you.”

He smiles, scrunching his nose up. He is so happy when he’s with you. You feel the same. He’s the best thing in your life.