#I think...if it doesn't count I'll fix that
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mugloversonly · 6 months ago
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Staying in the past Moving Forward
So, I read this by @steddiecameraroll and disappeared into the void and woke up with this fully completed... I'm tagging @steddieangstyaugust but I'm not 100% sure it counts. If it does though, it fits well into today's prompt:
Prompt: Future | rating: T |
Summary: A look into the next year and a half for the boys (after refers to the breakup)
STEVE Morning after:
"Go to hell." That was the last thing Eddie said to Steve before he went with Robin to Indy the next morning as planned and told her what happened on the way.
She was pissed at him. She originally thought that Steve asked Eddie to come and he said no, which would have sucked, but she figured they could make long distance work. Steve was her best friend, but he fucked up and broke two hearts that didn't need breaking. When they got to their shared apartment, Robin called Eddie.
"Hey, it's Robin." She said once he answered. "I just called to say that Steve is an idiot. You were the best thing to happen to him and he threw it away carelessly." Eddie sniffled.
"I'm not going to take him back Rob." He said strongly. And he meant it. He knew one day he could forgive Steve, but his trust in the man would be forever damaged.
"I know. I'm not asking you to, just thought you should know that I'm not going to choose sides between you two. You're both my friends and he did you wrong." She promised to call him weekly and agreed that he wasn't going to call her as long as she lived with Steve. She could respect that.
Steve on the other hand, was angry. Not at Eddie or Robin, although a little at Robin. He was angry with himself. He assumed Eddie thought it was a fling. He knew they were planning on leaving but he figured it wouldn't be that big a deal. He was wrong.
"Did you know I was in love with you?" The words rang in Steve's ears. He didn't know but if he had, he's not sure what he would have done. He made Eddie think he was unimportant as if it wasn't breaking Steve's heart to leave him behind. He fucked everything up and a few minutes later he found out he could have had everything. God he's an idiot.
A week after:
"Robin I need to talk to him. Please." Steve begged. Robin took the phone into her room so she could talk to Eddie privately.
"He doesn't want to talk to you, dingus. I'm not going to let your fuck up, ruin my friendship." She shut the door in his face. That last part hit him hard. She was right of course. If she broke Eddie's trust by letting Steve talk to him it would ruin them too. He didn't want to do that.
A month after:
Steve tried to call the trailer a few times a week, but he never got an answer. He left voicemail after voicemail until he called and instead of ringing he heard, "The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service."
"What the hell?" He whispered. "Hey Robin?" He shouted to his roommate. At her affirmative noise he asked, "why is Eddie's phone disconnected?" He heard her stand and make her way to the kitchen. She took the phone from him and hung it up.
"You kept calling even after he asked you to stop. He called me at work today to give me his new number." She admitted. She was doing her best to help Steve get through the break up, but Eddie was her friend too and she felt partially responsible for what happened since she's the one who got into college. Steve sighed. He did this to himself. Tears welled up and began to fall. He'd cried every day for the past month but he didn't feel like he deserved to feel sad. He was the reason he felt this way, him alone. Eddie did nothing wrong, he was perfect. It's why Steve dragged it out so long. He made a mistake, if he could just talk to him and apologize, he knew this would all work out. It had to work out.
A year after:
"Go to Hell." The last words Eddie ever said to Steve. But not the last time he heard Eddie's voice.
Steve was at a bar. He was trying to find someone to hook up with, man, woman, it didn't matter. He was too thin, drinking too much, not doing well. He was staring at the bottom of a bottle nursing his still broken heart, when he heard it. Over the bar's radio a new single by a local Indiana group, Corroded Coffin: Death to the King. Eddie's voice poured through the speakers, shattering Steve's heart with each word.
The King rules with an iron fist Doesn't know what love is Uses his subjects like pawns in his game leaves them broken and in pain Death to the King who killed me first Death to the King it's what he deserves I saw us grow old through a crystal ball I saw the happy ending our kids growing tall The king saw nothing, nothing at all He took my heart When he left his throne Buried it in the forest And left me alone Death to the King who killed me first Death to the King it's what he deserves
Steve couldn't hear this anymore. He stumbled out of the bar and practically ran to his apartment. He no longer shared with Robin since she moved in with her girlfriend. Steve was happy for her, at least one of them should get love, and she deserved it for putting up with his shit.
He dialed her number and prayed she'd answer. "Hello?" Came a half asleep voice.
"Robbie?" Steve whispered. She grunted in response. "Eddie's band is on the radio! I just heard them." He said shocked, sure it would surprise her.
"I know." She said calmly.
"Oh, have you heard it already?" Steve asked.
"Yeah. He played me the demo last time I saw him." She said with a yawn. The last time she saw him?
"You visited him?" He asked.
"No, he came to see me." She said as if that didn't destroy Steve. He made the drive to see Robin who was just a few miles away from him. He could have visited. He would have visited if Steve wasn't so stupid.
"Steve? You still there?" She asked.
"I think I ruined my life, Robbie." Steve said.
"I think you did too." That statement hung in the air until Steve went to sleep.
The next day, Steve bought the whole album.
A Year and Six months after:
Steve sat down with Robin and the kids in his apartment. It was a bit strained with them after the break up since everyone thought Steve was in the wrong…not that Steve could blame them, he was the one who told them everything. Eddie had requested that their friends not take sides and Steve had done the same. He hoped this would smooth things over. He agreed to host a get together for everyone to celebrate being Upside Down free. And everyone would be here, even Eddie. Steve needed to stay strong and he would. He hadn't seen him since the night he blew up his life, but if he could explain Eddie was the right person, but the wrong time for Steve. Then everything would be okay. He hasn't gotten over Eddie and he hoped the same was true for Eddie as shitty as that sounded.
The doorbell rang and Dustin jumped up to grab it knowing who it would be. "Henderson!" Eddie's voice boomed through the apartment. The kids got up to greet him and they all came into the living room as a giant group. Robin hugged him next and asked how everything was going and then he turned to finally look at Steve a year and a half after he confessed his love. Steve met his eyes and couldn't stop himself from letting his gaze roam. He looked good. His lanky form had filled out to a more muscular build, he had quite a few more tattoos, and his long curly hair was longer and more well maintained than Steve had ever seen it. He had to say something.
"Hey, Eddie." He waved awkwardly. "You look good." He tried not to hide as everyone's eyes turned to them.
"Thanks, Steve." He replied. "And thanks for hosting." He smiled. It didn't look strained at all…maybe Steve was right and they could fix this.
"No problem. Do you want a beer?" Steve asked.
"No thanks, I don't really drink anymore." Eddie replied. Steve was shocked but he listed his available drinks and Eddie settled on a coke. Steve snagged a beer for himself on the way back. The group seemed to settle and everyone acted like it was perfectly normal for all of them to be together again. And maybe it was for everyone else. After all, the kids had been all spread out for college for months now. Eddie seemed perfectly content to chat with everyone even Hopper and Joyce when they showed up.
Steve was the one with the issue. But he did his best to not show how off he felt and he thought he was successful. He was 4 beers in when he was brave enough to ask Eddie to talk. Shockingly, he agreed and they went out for a smoke. Steve took his pack out and offered one to Eddie who shook his head. "Don't like my brand or something?" He scoffed.
"Actually no. Wayne had a cancer scare a few months back so we both promised to quit." Eddie said quietly. Steve felt like a dick.
"Jesus Eddie. I'm sorry." Eddie dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Eddie asked calmly. Steve meanwhile was freaking out. Here goes nothing.
"I wanted to start by saying I'm sorry for how I ended things back then." Eddie opened his mouth but Steve rushed forward. "Please let me finish." Eddie nodded. "It was a shitty thing to do. I shouldn't have ended things like that or blindsided you with it. I never should have done it in the first place because I've been miserable without you." Eddie went to speak again before shaking his head and gesturing for Steve to continue. "I loved you back then and I didn't think you loved me back. I still love you." This time, Eddie couldn't keep quiet.
"Steve," he sighed. His face was unreadable but the beer gave Steve courage.
"You're my right person Eddie. It was the wrong time a year and a half ago, but it's the right time now." He took both of Eddie's hands in his. "Please, give me another chance?" He asked hope bleeding into his voice. Eddie smiled softly but it wasn't a happy smile.
"Steve, I listened to you, so can you promise to listen to me?" He asked keeping their hands together.
"I promise. I'd do anything you asked." Steve vowed. Eddie ducked his head and began.
"First off, thank you for the apology. It was really shitty what you did back then. We had only been dating a few months so I understand you not asking me to come with you, but not telling me at all? That was the worst pain I have ever felt, including the bats." Steve sagged, he hated that he put Eddie through that. "And I forgive you."
"You do?" Steve lit up. Eddie held his palm up to indicate he wasn't done.
"I forgive you, Steve. But this isn't fair. You broke up with me. I can't… I won't trust you with my heart again." He whispered softly but with certainty. "You broke it into smithereens. Crushed it into pieces and then ground it to dust under your shoe as if it was a trinket from the arcade." Steve winced and felt tears begin to stream down his face. "I'm sorry, you're miserable Steve. I really am. I can try to be your friend again. Slowly. If that's something you can be okay with. But I'm not willing to be more than that." He pulled his hands from Steve's. "You were my first love Steve and a part of me will always love you. But I moved on. I'm moving forward. It's time that you did too." With that he turned and went back into the apartment.
Steve's vision blurred but he still looked at Eddie through the window. He didn't look affected at all by Steve's confession and his rejection of it. Was Steve so delusional to think that just because he couldn't let go, that Eddie wouldn't either?
He spent another half hour out there wishing things were different, when Robin came out. "Hey. Did you get closure?" Robin asked. Steve nodded slowly. "And?"
"I didn't want closure." At Robin's questioning noise he admitted, "I wanted a second chance." Robin gasped. "He said no. I don't blame him."
"So, what now?" She asked.
"I move on I guess. He said he'd be willing to try being friends again but made it very clear that's all we'd ever be." Steve hung his head and cried.
Two weeks later Steve saw a headline that stopped his heart: Corroded Coffin's front man engaged to mystery man!
EDDIE morning after:
"Go to Hell" the last thing he said to Steve as he stormed back to his van. He sped back to the trailer, the raw pain tearing him apart piece by piece. Luckily Wayne wasn't working tonight. Eddie needed him. He slid into the driveway and barely remembered to lock the car door behind him before he sprinted into the house. Wayne was sitting in his rocking chair but one look at the state Eddie was in had him jumping to his feet.
"What's wrong, son?" Wayne asked. The tears that were starting to fall became a river down Eddie's face as he told Wayne what happened. Wayne pulled him onto the couch and into his side. He held his boy and rocked him softly as he cried.
"What am I gonna do without him Wayne?" He whispered.
"You want to feel your feelings or want to fix it?" Wayne asked. This was a system they came up with when Eddie was little. Sometimes Eddie just needed to vent without Wayne trying to solve the problem.
"Fix it, Wayne. Please. It hurts so bad." He sobbed. Wayne held him tighter.
"It'll probably hurt for a while." He said sadly. "Here's what we're going to do. You are going to go rest. When you wake up I'll go pick us up some of your favorite foods from the diner while you shower. Then we're gonna comb through the house and get every reminder of that boy out of the house and in the trash where it belongs. We're going to get rid of everything that makes you look behind you. And finally! We are going to get drunk on the good beer and watch one of those horror movies you like so much. How does that sound?" Eddie smiled even through the tears.
"That sounds like a great idea dad."
"Only look forward from now on Ed."
A week after:
"Ed! Phone for you." Wayne called. Eddie wiped his eyes and moved to answer it. He checked the clock and realized exactly who would be calling.
"Hey, Rob." He said. He was happy to hear from the girl, glad that their friendship wasn't destroyed by Steve's actions.
When she called a week ago he thought about hanging up but she didn't sound like she was going to yell at him. He was right. It was the same with the kids. When he didn't go to see Steve off, Dustin called him. Eddie expected to be torn into but the boy was calling to see if he was okay.
"Steve told us what happened and I just want to say, that was shitty of him. I don't know if I think he's a good guy anymore." He admitted. Eddie's heart hurt, not just for himself but for Steve and the party.
"Listen, I can't tell you how to feel. But don't pick sides on my account. Robin and I are still friends even though she's rooming with him. Don't let our falling out destroy your friendship. If you decide on your own that's one thing, but don't do it for me." Eddie said. Dustin agreed and passed it on to the rest of the party. As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again and it was Robin. She expressed similar sentiments as Dustin. They agreed to call weekly. Which brought them to now.
"Hey, Eddie. Let me go into my bedroom." She apparently called from the kitchen in case he didn't answer. She began walking and he could hear Steve in the background.
"Let me talk to him, please." He heard Robin tell Steve no and shut her door.
"Sorry about that."
"No problem…thanks for that." He said earnestly.
"I'm not going to let him hurt you more by breaking your trust in other people." She said sternly. The two talked about their week before Robin asked the dreaded question. "How are you doing by the way?"
"I'm alright. I mean…I've been better but I'm not drowning myself in booze." Robin chuckled. "I don't blame you Robin. He made the choices he made, not you." He said again. He said it their first call too but he got the feeling she didn't believe him. Hopefully this time it would stick.
A month after:
"Hey, Eddie. It's Steve. Listen I know you haven't been answering me but I just…I want to talk to you. Apologize properly. I miss you." The machine told him. Eddie rolled his eyes. He asked Robin to tell Steve to stop calling. He didn't get to dump Eddie like a broken toy and then beg to talk to him. That's not fair. It's so selfish. Eddie thought Steve wasn't like that anymore but…he was wrong.
"Hey Wayne?" Eddie said as he stepped out onto the porch. At his grunt of affirmation, Eddie continued. "How much hassle would it be to get a new phone line?" After explaining to Wayne that he asked Steve to quit calling but he wouldn't, he agreed to get another phone line. Thankfully, it wasn't that hard to tell everyone they spoke to about the change. Eddie made sure to call Robin's work number to give her the new one though. He didn't want to risk Steve answering.
Six months after:
The band was actually making waves. They veered from the death metal scene and went into hard rock. It wasn't too much different if Eddie was being honest, but it was getting attention. They were preforming at actual bars and getting a crowd. They had groupies and agents were scouting them.
Eddie had indulged in the casual sex of it all but made sure to stay away from drugs, he knew what that shit could do. On some nights, he wasn't looking for a hook up, just someone to talk to.
It was one such night when Eddie met Zeke.
Zeke was everything Eddie never knew he wanted. Tall with dark hair, dark eyes, and mocha skin. He radiated confidence but he spoke shyly. "You guys are good." He said as he slid into the seat next to Eddie.
"Thanks. We've been playing together a long time." Zeke seemed interested and the two of them chatted. Not once did he think of Steve, a first when it came to chatting up men. So far every man was compared to Steve whether Eddie wanted to or not. But, Zeke was so different and Eddie felt ready to move on. The night ended with Zeke walking Eddie to his car and Eddie brushing a kiss to his cheek with a request to come to the next show.
Zeke kept his promise and showed up again and again. Eventually, he asked Eddie on a date to which he agreed. The only time he thought about Steve that night was when Zeke asked if he'd ever been in love. "Once. It didn't end well." At Zeke's sad and confused eyes, Eddie told him what happened. He couldn't help the way his eyes welled up, but it didn't hurt as much to tell this story. "Just, promise me one thing?" Eddie asked.
"Anything."
"If you decide you don't want to be with me, for whatever reason, don't do it like that." The pain was still in his voice and Zeke looked heartbroken for him.
"I won't."
Nine months after:
Wayne came out of the doctor's office with tears in his eyes. Eddie expected the worst. He had gone in for a routine checkup last week and they were worried they saw something. "It's okay, boy. It was benign." Wayne reassured as Eddie threw himself into his uncle's arms. "We gotta quit smoking though. It might be too late for me, but you're young." Eddie met his uncle's eyes.
"Whatever you want, dad." He promised. On the way home, they stopped at the drug store to get nicotine patches and gum. The next few weeks were going to suck, but it would be worth it to put Wayne's mind at ease. He silently promised to quit drinking too.
After Steve left, Eddie drank a lot that first month. But now, he wasn't as torn up. He was still hurt, of course he was, but he knew he didn't do anything wrong. It was all Steve and the only thing Eddie could do was forgive him.
Eleven months after:
"Robin, are you going to be in town next week?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah. Why what's up?" Robin situated herself at the dining table. She recently moved into an apartment with her girlfriend. This meant she could talk to Eddie freely. At first she didn't want to leave Steve alone, but he promised he'd be okay, and they hung out nearly every day anyway.
"My band is coming there to record an album. We'll be there for about two weeks." He said as nonchalant as he could. That didn't stop Robin from screaming her excitement and nearly bursting his eardrum. "Jesus woman! With pipes like that you could blow the windows out of Notre Dame."
"Sorry, sorry. That's so exciting!" She congratulated him. He shared the details of when he would be in town and where they were staying.
"I also wanted to show you a demo before we put it on the album. It's a different kind of personal than some of the other things I've written and I want your opinion."
"Sure!"
The next week saw Eddie playing his "heartbreak anthem", as the boys called it, "Death to the King". It was the song they were singing when they were noticed by this label so they wanted to put it out there, Eddie just wanted to make sure it wasn't obvious who it was about by those that didn't know him.
He drove his sword through my heart His court jester lost his spark He wasn't cool, he didn't shine And the king screamed, you're no longer mine I gave him my loyalty I gave him my love I gave him everything wanted nothing in return He took it all from me and left me to burn Death to the King who killed me first Death to the King it's what he deserves
The song played through and Eddie felt raw. "So?" He asked.
"It's about Steve obviously. But you wouldn't be able to tell really if you didn't know the two of you dated. Especially when you consider all the other songs about anti-establishment on the album." Robin was right. it would blend in.
A Year after:
"Death to the King" was playing on radio stations all over the country. It was being requested in call ins and the buzz for the album was booming. It was set to come out that night and the band was celebrating tonight! The band flew into Indy from Chicago so they could all be together with their friends and family. Robin came in with her girlfriend Libby and made the rounds.
"I'm so proud of you Eddie!" She said and hugged him tightly. The kids of the party and other young adults (minus Steve) were all there and it was sweet.
"Thanks, Buck. Oh! This is my boyfriend Zeke." He said introducing them.
"Finally I have a face to the name." She said and shook his hand. She didn't let go and yanked him down to her level. "Listen to me closely. If you hurt him, I will end you. He's been hurt enough by idiot boys, alright?" Zeke nodded and leaned back eyes wide.
"Wayne gave me a shovel talk earlier too. But I don't plan on hurting Eddie and if I ever do, I will find you and let you do what must be done." Zeke promised.
"That's all I ask." She said before she began milling around.
"She's terrifying." He said. Eddie laughed at his boyfriend.
"She is isn't she?"
As the album wrap party wound down, the band all stood at the front of the room to thank everyone for coming.
"There's one more thing though" Gareth said. "Eddie, this album is filled with your pain and heartbreak from a year ago." He was touched by their recognition.
"We hate that you were hurting but we all saw how cathartic this album was for you." Jeff spoke next. He tilted his head in confusion, it seemed like they were leading up to something.
Bear closed out with "and while we don't want you hurting, we hope that this doesn't turn our music into sappy shit." He grabbed Eddie by the shoulders and spun him around to face Zeke who lowered himself to one knee.
"Oh, holy shit!" Eddie screamed uneloquently and covered his mouth with his hands. Zeke laughed softly.
"Eddie, when we met you were just starting out. I got to see, not all of it, but a lot of hard work, dedication, and sleepless nights that led you here. I have never been as happy as I am with you. And I know it's a little soon, we've only been together for six months. But I love you Eddie. You're it for me baby. I asked Wayne for his blessing and he gave me this." He pulled out a ring box from his pocket and opened it to reveal Eddie's mom's ring. Tears ran down Eddie's face. "I got it resized to fit you, I think. Wayne mentioned it was your mother's and her mother's, you know all the way up the chain. And since you don't have any sisters, we figured it could be yours. So, will you marry me?" Zeke finally asked. Eddie was nearly sobbing now but he was determined to speak. But first…he full body tackled Zeke to the ground.
"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!" His friends cheered and in a heap on the ground his fiance slid his ring onto his finger as their lips met. The flash of a camera reminded him everyone else was in the room. They broke the kiss and he smiled at the group. His eyes caught Robin's and he saw the joy in them for him but also the tinge of sadness she must feel for Steve. He shook his head, he was over Steve and had been for a while, but they were friends once. Maybe they could be again.
A Year and Six months after:
Eddie stood outside Steve's apartment. He was glad Zeke understood when he explained it was a night for the survivors of the "Earthquake" only. He flew in with Eddie and was hanging out at the hotel waiting for him to get back. They were planning on Seeing Wayne tomorrow. He knocked and was relieved that Dustin answered the door. He stepped in and caught up with everyone he'd seen recently before finally turning to see Steve for the first time in a year and a half.
He didn't look good. Bags under his eyes, five o'clock shadow, too skinny, and most telling of all, his hair wasn't done. They went through the awkward stage of catching up with an ex, before Steve asked to speak to him outside. Eddie didn't really have anything to say to him, but closure would be nice.
Except, the more Steve spoke, the less Eddie wanted to be out here. "This isn't fair. You broke up with me." Eddie wanted to tell him he was engaged but now wasn't the time. He wanted Steve to understand that this was how Eddie felt, regardless of another person in his life. He didn't want to get back together with Steve because of Zeke, but because the pain Steve caused him was too great. He would always love Steve, you never forget your first love. But Eddie didn't want to look to the past, only the future. As he left Steve outside, a weight lifted off Eddie's chest. He finally felt free to fly.
The next morning he called his PR team and gave the okay to announce the engagement.
Two weeks later when the article came in, Zeke and Eddie cuddled on the couch and read it together.
"Corroded Coffin's front man Eddie Munson is engaged to accountant Zeke Forester". Eddie had never been happier and was moving forward.
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running-in-the-dark · 8 months ago
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I have officially started painting the walls in the living room.
well, I've mixed/adjusted the paint and painted some swatches and put up masking tape and all that stuff. I'll be painting tomorrow. I'm so excited (to get started, but mostly that I'll finally be all done with evvvverything*)
*until I think of the next thing I want to do, and the next one after that, and -
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medicinemane · 3 months ago
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Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy
You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing
I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know
Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards
...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said
Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes
#to be clear; I don't mind people disagreeing with me (though that's not what's happened here... I don't think I came into it at all)#but all I need in order to be able to work with disagreement is just... knowing you at least heard and understood me#like if it's 'I get that you think that vanilla is a good flavor of icecream; but I really prefer chocolate'... ok; this works for me#it's that... a lot of the time it honest feels more like 'what are you talking about? vanilla isn't a flavor' where... huh?#let's take a real example; not everyone needs to agree with me on nuclear#but like... someone saying 'I get that it's way safer these days; but I still worry about waste storage'... well ok then#but if it's just like 'but it's dangerous and will explode' even after I've explained about the designs now#where there's a salt plug that with melt and drain before anything can happen; and these materials don't like to run away#...and it's not like they're asking me to back up the source; it's like I never said anything at all...#what am I supposed to do here? you feel me on that? do you start to get why I feel like I'm going crazy when that's how it often feels?#no one is obliged to agree with me but... literally just active listening would fix this... say you heard me and we're good#acknowledge that I voiced something and it's been noted#honestly... honestly my who life it's felt like I must somehow actually be invisible#...to an extent maybe I'm a figment of my own imagination; I might well be a ghost that's lonely and makes you all up#...for all the impact my actions have#or maybe literally everything I say just comes out garbled... is that it?#this post is about something very specific; but it's also about something that happens a lot with a lot of different people#on a broader scale; why is it no one else seems to be able to connect the dots#and these aren't like... conspiracy theory dots; these are like russia buys drones from Iran; therefore russia and Iran are partners#that's the kind of dots I'm talking about connecting; please tell me that's not a conspiracy theory to you... it seems plain to me#I don't know... I really don't... I don't think much I say will ever have any impact anywhere on anyone#...honestly a good 90% of the time people don't even respond to what I say#not like my posts here; I mean direct in dms or whatever; I'll say stuff and it's just silence or a new subject#again; across multiple people; it's common... it's... I think it happens more often than it doesn't#I can instantly name 4 conversations with 4 different people that's happened with lately#and that's not counting the 3 where I know the reason why it's happened#I really am something unfit to live; the evidence is endless#mm tag so i can find things later
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grendelsmom · 1 year ago
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I was so delighted, because I finished writing the first draft of my paper, that - for a moment - I lived in a world where editing doesn't exist
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daturablossomsblog · 29 minutes ago
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Just saw a post about being glad Rook was the protag because the Inquisitor wouldn't have worked for the story BW wrote . . . I have some bad news about the story BW wrote.
#veilguard critical#as usual ppl aren't getting the watsonian vs doyalist distinction#rook critical#for the ppl who love everything about datv that's fine that's your business#but to criticize ppl for thinking of other (better) story scenarios when the vast majority of fans of the first three games#you know the games that make up 75% of the series#are critical of datv or straight up disliked it#is out of touch#with respect to rook as a protag ppl more eloquent than i am have explained why rook didn't work for a lot of players#to me the problem is rook is too restrictive and too vaguely defined at the same time which is quite the feat#but also rook doesn't feel like they come from the thedas of the other 75% of the series#which would be a higher % if you counted the books etc#so that's jarring and then you're stuck with one goody goody personality#ppl tend to think the inquisitor is similarly limited in terms of personality which is false#sure the inquisitor's *tone* might mostly be dry/subtle/reserved but for events where strong emotions come out#(“can anything in this fucking world stay fixed”)#but the inquisitor has complexity where it matters like i can play a carta dwarf who embraces the role of herald and lords it over everyone#i can play a pious human noble who genuinely believes they're chosen#i can play an atheist mage or a traditionalist dalish#and so on because the theme of faith is actually grounded and explored in the narrative#in a way “regret” is not for rook like i'll give you that it's touched on but it's so shallow#i'm rambling so i'll close by saying the emotional beats didn't work for me playing as rook because their relationship with varric#is again shallow and ill defined#“you were co-workers/friends for a year” cool what did that look like other than the bar scene#forget the inquisitor for the varric twist i think only hawke works because varric is extremely close to hawke no matter what#only hawke could be so devastated they couldn't function if something happened to him on their watch#second to that is the inquisitor who *could* be very good friends with him and knew him for ten years#there's no comparison to the depth of emotional connection with those characters vs rook#IF you're actually roleplaying and not inserting your real varric loving self into the game#i'd rather roleplay in an rpg
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kifu · 1 year ago
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I decide to see if I can get the tie rod off of my car myself today, because it's as nice a day as it can get in December and there is wayyyyy too much play in my steering right now and this car's gonna throw me soon if I don't get it fixed - and I get home to find a flat. I watched that tire sink, so it happened in my yard. It's sliced wide open. So I can't fix that.
I could still (try to) change the tie rod but a) I'm not sure that I can reach a safe place of the frame with my jack because it's a piece of shit and the "good" one won't lift and b) car's currently jacked up and three-wheeled in the opposite corner from the tie rod that needs fixing. I suppose I could put the donut on to do what I originally intended. I guess. I don't know how many possible points of failure I want at a time.
I just ... I just put more money than I had in the brakes and now I need a new tire? I think I'm at the end of my ability to deal with problems right now. I'm going to max out my credit before my car insurance is due next week. Which that is ... well, at least $1800.
Still haven't gotten things figured out with the phone. I can't get my last phone through Metro PCS to unlock to accept the current sim card. Verizon is the one and only cell company that even works where I live, so it's not like I have a choice with whom I use. Be one thing if I could use wifi calling, but I can't.
I had to memorize my work schedule this week and write it down for my boss because I don't know my login information and I can't dick around with my email to get that figured out at work. I just feel like things are a mess right now, and just about all of them are money related. You'd think making twice minimum wage would get me through life no problem. Maybe if I didn't have my chickens or rabbits, but those chickens paid for sooooooo much this summer, it was ridiculous. And what was the point of buying a house with land if I'm just going to sit on my computer chair all day?
#truly there are way more expensive problems for a car than pads/rotors and a tie rod#as well as one single tire that looks like it's been through a knife fight#but for fuck's sake i got no money#there's a reason that i had to let things go to breaking point before i convinced myself they needed fixing#but i also drive 50 miles a day just to get to work so it's no wonder my poor car demands my attention#work's looking pretty bleak for the future too#we're down my favorite coworker and i'm not sure i'll ever see him again#he last left with tears in his voice because reasons#i don't have his phone number anymore for obvious reasons but i guess i know where he lives?#i promised him a baby blanket for his daughter on the way so i do have an excuse to stop in#there's nothing i can actually do for him but hopefully not be a drag on his life like most everyone else he talks about?#we're down a damn good coworker because she had surgery today#she thinks she's coming back monday#i really hope she doesn't#we're supposed to be an eight man crew but we're permanently down one member so with both those two gone#we're at five of eight workers in the busiest season of the year#we had no less than ten hour days this entire week and it's only going to get worse until new year's#ESPECIALLY with that damn good coworker down for the count#not sure how i'm going to juggle the extra workload and extra hours and still manage to take care of my chickens specifically tbh#we only have like eight hours of daylight#sure i start work at 5 or 6am but on tens ... i'm getting home near enough twilight the birds are already sluggish#what can ya do i guess#welcome to the hell world
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dilf-docs · 21 days ago
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So Is it Your Place Or Mine?
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)
word count: 3,701 words
side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)
part: prev | masterlist | next
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"What do you mean you're not coming?"
It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.
Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.
"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"
Bullshit.
Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.
"Need help?"
His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.
"I'm at my dorm, sorry"
Double bullshit.
Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.
"I can drop by later then" she suggests.
His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.
"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.
"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"
He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?
"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"
I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.
"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.
Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?
"Should I worry?"
Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.
"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.
"Is it okay if I-"
"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.
"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"
He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.
"What I want is you"
The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.
The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.
It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.
The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.
"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.
When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.
"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"
You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.
"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.
"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.
"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.
"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"
"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.
He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.
"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.
Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.
He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.
"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"
You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.
"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?
He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.
"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"
You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.
He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"
To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.
He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.
"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"
Mine.
The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?
No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?
He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.
"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.
"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"
"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"
Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.
"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"
"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.
"Then take it, hungry one"
His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.
"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.
"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"
His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"
You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.
"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"
Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"
"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"
Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.
But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.
"Joel..." you breath out his name.
"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.
"K-keep going"
Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.
Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.
"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"
You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.
"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"
His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.
If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.
Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.
You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.
"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"
You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.
"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"
He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.
"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.
Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.
"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"
Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.
"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.
"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"
You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.
You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.
But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.
You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.
"I want to ride your belt buckle"
There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.
"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"
"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"
"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"
"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.
He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.
"Get'ere you filthy slut"
You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.
"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"
You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.
"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"
His heart takes a dangerous leap.
"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"
You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.
"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.
"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"
"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"
"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"
You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.
"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"
"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"
"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"
You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.
"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.
Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.
"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.
You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.
For a moment, it feels like it could be.
"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"
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letsbangts · 1 month ago
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answer your phone || jjk
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⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling
⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡
⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)
18+ // mdni
⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au
⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves
⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?
↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo
↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)
˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮
masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist
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Answer your phone I've got to talk to you
Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.
He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.
This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.
Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.
He misses you.
He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.
Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."
The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.
"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."
Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.
"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.
The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.
"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.
He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.
"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"
"It's Emily!"
"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.
Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.
Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.
He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.
Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?
He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.
Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.
He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.
This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?
The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.
Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.
Shit. He misses you.
Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.
Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?
Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.
Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.
I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around
He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.  
He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.
I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't
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Y/N POV
You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.
You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.
"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."
You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.
Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.
Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.
You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.
They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.
Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.
You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.
One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.
Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.
You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.
You miss him.
You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.
You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.
✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧
The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.
"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"  
He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.
"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.
Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.
"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.
"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.
"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.
Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.
"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."
He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.
He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.
Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.
"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.
He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.
"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.
You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.
Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.
"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."
"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."
You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.
"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.
"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.
“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."
Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”  
You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.
“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.
“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”
Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”  
Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well. 
"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.
There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.
You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.
You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.
“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.
Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.
"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.
“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”
Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.
"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."
“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”
"What?"
He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.
"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."
"Deal," you giggle.
"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.
You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.
You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.
You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.  
Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.
At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.
Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.
You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.
“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.
Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.
His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah." 
You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.
You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.
You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.
After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.
"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.
He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.
You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.
You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head. 
Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.
You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.
The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.
“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.
When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.
You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.
Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you." 
Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.
Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.
You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.
Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.
The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.
“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.
Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.
He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.
“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”
Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.
“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.
“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”
“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.
Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.
Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.
As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.
“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.
Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.
“Are you ready, baby?”
“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”
And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.
He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.
You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.
Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.  
Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.
"Come here."
Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.
“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”
“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”
You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.
Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."
You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.
"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."
"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.
"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."
"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.
"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.
You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.
✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧
You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.
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Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take
Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.
As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.
If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?
Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.
He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.
Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.
He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.  
Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.
He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.
Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.
And who would willingly walk into a fire?
When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”
But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life. 
The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.
What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.
Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.
He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.
Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.
But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.
His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.
Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.
He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.
Jungkook loves you.
In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.
You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.
So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.
Should he go to your place?
Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.
But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.
As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.
He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.
Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.
His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.
Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you
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Y/N POV
You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.
Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.
Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.
So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.
A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.
"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"
He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.
"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"
To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.
He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.
"What?"
"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.
"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.
"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."
You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.
"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."
Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.
"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."
"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"
You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."
He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.
Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."
Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.
"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."
You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.
"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"
Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.
"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."
Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."
"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"
He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.
Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.
Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.
Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.
You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.
"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."
"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."
"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."
"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.
You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.
"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.
Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.
You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.
"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.
He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."
Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.
"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.
He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."
"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.
Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"
"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"
You can always count on Taehyung.
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Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?
Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?
He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.
He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.
How could he let things end up like this?
He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.
Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.
Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.
✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧
Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.
“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.
He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.
You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.
Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.
The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.
Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.
“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.
One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.
He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.
Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.
He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.
“You should let me give you another one."
“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.
"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.  
You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.
"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.
Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.
Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.
He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.
"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.
Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."
You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."
Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.
"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.
"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.
You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.
"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.
"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.
"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.
One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.
"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.
"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"
You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.
"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.
"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.
Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."
He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.
"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.
You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.
"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.
"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.
Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.
"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.
The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.
Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.
Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.
“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.
He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.
✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧
Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.
Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.
The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.
Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?
Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.
The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.
And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.
Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.
Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.
Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please
All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.
Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.
What else can he do?
Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.
He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.
He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.
He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.
With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?  
All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.
Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.
He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.
He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.
Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh
Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.  
He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.
Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.
But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.
Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.
He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.
How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.
Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.
You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.
He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.
Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.
Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone
But he doesn't have to wait for long.
He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.
And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.
Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.
"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."
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↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋
taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr
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mondaymelon · 7 months ago
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₊⊹ "𝐰-𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭!? " | childe, kaeya, heizou, lyney x gn!reader
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ㅤ⤷ art cr
— it's time for revenge : teasing the teasing boys back.
󠀠󠀠ㅤ⤷ DARLINNGGG, GUESS WHOS BACK FROM JAILLLLL ... gn reader, but use of adj "pretty", est. relationship childe + heizou , alcohol 󠀠󠀠and suggestive mentions in kaeya's, fluff
— ...aka , flirting back makes them malfunction. ♥
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"Darling, you're so pretty today~!"
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There he is — that sly little shit you call so fondly by name. Childe snakes his arms firmly around your torso, snuggling into you from behind.
It doesn't take a genius to guess he's grinning like an idiot.
(Your idiot.)
"Hm? I don't think I heard you right, say it one more time?" Glancing back at him with a cheeky smile, you hear the rumble of his laughter.
The harbinger presses a sneaky, little sideways kiss against the base of your neck, tufts of his hair tickling your jaw. "You're seriously too kissable today. Totally unfair."
He's so stupidly in love that you can't help but tease him, just a little. Changing positions, you turn around to cup the man's face. "Well, if I'm that kissable today, I guess I'll just have to keep that look going, won't I? Shall we test how fair it really is?"
There's a beat of silence. You count six seconds before he even begins to utter a choked little: "...H-huh...?"
He's so red-faced you almost feel bad. His skin is growing warmer to the touch, and he shifts his eyes, suddenly becoming a whole lot less bold than usual. Trembling slightly, he brings up a hand to hide behind, his now-meek voice reaching you.
"H-hey, who taught you that...?"
"Ah? Speak up, I can't hear you~"
"...You- You know exactly what you're doing to my heart, don't you?" He looks at you accusingly, guiding one of your hands to his chest, burying it in the fabric of his clothes. "Archons, it's beating so fast-"
"This can't be healthy, so hurry up and cure me."
"Cure?"
"..1000 kisses should fix me right up."
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"To meet you once more, isn't this fate?"
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Eyes that contain galaxies — and you, raise to meet yours. Kaeya smiles in a smile that's all mirth, raising a glass to let it briefly shine in the light. He stands as you enter Angel's Share, pulling back a stool at the counter.
...He wasn't a stalker, was he? This hadn't been the first time you'd met, nor the second, nor third — you'd seen this archon-forsaken man a total of seven times. Each time, the two of you had shared a drink, which always started with "ah, just one today" to you, face flushed, leaning onto the counter and spilling whatever was on your mind that day in its entirety to the man who sat beside you, listening with the occasional chuckle.
Well, it wasn't as if you found the idea of "fate" and "Kaeya" unappealing.
"I suppose that wouldn't be unbelievable." You shrug as you take your seat. "Since I've been fortunate enough to encounter you again, drinks are on me."
"My, how generous." Kaeya gestures toward his empty glass shamelessly, resting his chin on his hand leisurely. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
You beckon Charles closer, briefly whispering something in the man's ear. The bartender nods, walking off.
"How interesting, Charles seems to be mixing two drinks. A classic choice of wine, and your favorite..." A foxy grin stretches across the man's lips. "To think you've memorized my order. Should I write you off as someone staring at me nonstop or merely attentive?"
That smooth talker, with that insufferably charming smile — surely it was time for a little revenge?
"I'd prefer the former, but think what you want."
"Oh? I'm that handsome?" (Is it the dim lighting that makes Kaeya's face seem a little more red than usual? )
"You are."
You state it blatantly, as it is. As if Kaeya weren't expecting such a blunt answer, he suddenly clams up, coughing into his fist in a terribly not nonchalant manner. "You... don't tell me, have you already been drinking? What's with you today?"
"What, is speaking the truth suddenly such a surprise?"
"...You said all drinks were on you, yeah?"
Changing the topic? "Mhm, whatever you want."
It's hard to miss the way Kaeya's gaze burns.
"Then, round two at my place?"
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"You're way too distracting, how am I supposed to get any work done when all I want to do is kiss you?"
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And there it is, Heizou's twenty-second kiss of the day, this time pressed lightly on the bridge of your nose. Here you were, expecting the cool-headed man to be able to hold himself back during detective work.
You'd expected far too much.
"Heizou, you're the one who agreed to me accompanying you. No use in complaining now."
"Ah, that's where you're mistaken, love! Complaints are perfect excuses for kisses, you know." The twenty-third, on your left cheek, and the twenty-fourth, on the other.
"Heizou."
He tilts his head upwards, staring at you cheekily. "Hm?"
"Revenge." You cup his face. His pink cheeks are squishy, and you resist the urge to pinch them.
"...Pardo-"
You kiss him on the lips.
Heizou makes a noise of surprise, slightly jumping under your touch. He quivers for a moment, then goes stock still.
Seems like you've stumped the detective.
One kiss is all it took.
As you pull away, you're able to witness the absolute mess you've created. The Shikanoin Heizou's at an utter loss for words, his lips parted but words long gone. His cheeks, the tips of his ears, the back of his neck; he's so red-faced you can't help but laugh.
"My, that's all it took to render you speechless?"
There's a twinkle in his spring-green eyes as he gazes at you, shaking his head slyly. "Nope-! Not rendered speechless just yet- although..."
"...One hundred more kisses might do the trick?"
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"A pretty flower for the prettiest of them all, mon chéri~"
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A rainbow rose drawn from a sleeve, a pair of sly amethyst eyes, a cattish smile, and a smooth voice: Lyney greets you — or more so catches and stops you on the road. Something of a highway robbery, except this "thief" is more skilled in capturing hearts than valuables.
His hand snags onto your forearm, making no move to let go. "You player, don't tell me you say this to any pretty face that passes by?"
At the raise of your brow, Lyney feigns hurt. "You wound me, to assume such a thing... just how little trust you have for me?"
"Admittedly not a lot, Sir..." You scan him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze; You were sure you had seen the guy somewhere before. "...Magician?"
"Lyney."
"...Lyney, considering you've stopped me on the side of the road, it'd be daring to even call us acquaintances, no?"
"Acquaintances..." Lyney ponders the thought like it's enjoyable. "I can work with that~ Since we've been acquainted, won't you take the rose already?"
Partly due to his insistence, and partly due to pity, you accept the flower from his hold, not failing to notice the way his eyes twinkle. "Say," he begins, moving his hands back to his sides. "Do you happen to know what roses mean in the language of the flowers?"
You blink at him, rather unamused. "Sorry to disappoint, but I can't speak to plants."
Lyney, unexpectedly, grows silent. You see his cheeks puff outward, attempting to suppress a laugh. "I see," he speaks, breathily, like he is midway between a laugh and a word. "Love, beauty, perfection, wouldn't you say it fits you wonderfully?"
"...You have my thanks?"
Lyney's eyes are the shape of almonds, and when he smiles, the edges of them crinkle. "Not much of a charmer, are you?"
Is that a challenge?
"Then," you drop your voice a pitch lower, straightening your shoulders. "You have my thanks, mon beau." Combo attack: winking and blowing a kiss, you depart the scene as soon as possible for added mystery.
(You had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time you saw him.)
Now standing alone on the side of the street, eyes wide, finger playing with his side-swept bangs, utterly speechless and red-faced, Lyney's heart raced like it was to leap out of his chest.
"...Haha, what sort of magic is this?"
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(a/n) this has been in drafts since like,, janurary. SOBBING.
look out for an announcement in a lil bit ^^
tags :
@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima
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leighsartworks216 · 2 months ago
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Kiss-Proof
Sylus x implied fem!Reader
Inspired by this fic by @peachlynnie
Also inspired by an Archie comic lol
Warnings: fluff, kissing, established relationship, lipstick, implied sexual content at the end
Word Count: 948
Main Masterlist
First Love and Deepspace Masterlist
Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form (fill this out to be tagged in future fics)
How he got roped into this situation, he has no idea. Not that he's complaining. What could be better than his partner straddling his lap, kissing him over and over again?
You plant a kiss at a bare spot on his cheek without ceremony. You pull away, hopeful, only to deflate when the vibrant imprint of your lips are left behind. "Ugh, this one transfers, too." The tube of lipstick is tossed off to the side with the other failures.
Sylus grabs the makeup wipe from the previous attempts (almost completely covered in various shades of pink and red). His hand holds your jaw warmly, thumb on your chin, as his other thumb brushes the wipe over your lips.
He could suggest taking you shopping to the high end stores that would most certainly have lipstick proven not to smudge or transfer, but then you'd have to get up and stop testing it. His lips still have some red staining them, and his cheeks, neck and forehead are almost completely covered. He'd hate to stop now.
"How many more do you have to test?" he asks.
You shift in his lap, forcing him to stop his ministrations in favor of holding your hip to support you. You grab another lipstick tube from a pile andshift the remaining ones around. "Like, five more? At least one of these has to work."
He shifts his legs, settling you back into place, and draws your attention back to him so he can wipe away the last smidge of tint at the corners of your mouth. "If none of these work, I'll buy you some more," he promises. He nods slightly as he sets the wipe aside. "Go ahead, try this one."
You use a little compact mirror to help you get the shade on right. It's a warm red, bloody and tempting. It’s the same shade as his eyes after a couple glasses of Gin Fizz, when he looks at you with unbridled affection, enhanced with his slight intoxication.
Sylus would be the first to admit how much he loves watching this. He loves the comfort you have to propose this silly idea, to crawl into his lap with a bag of lipsticks and makeup wipes and the intensity of an executive making a pitch to a board room. He loves getting to watch the concentration on your face as you glide the applicator over your top lip, following the natural line to ensure it's perfect. Loves the mild frustration when you mess up the corner. Loves that you trust him to fix it with the wipe wrapped over his thumb nail. Loves the quiet thanks you mutter before you get back to work.
Fully applied, you hum impatiently as you turn the tube over to read the directions. "'Wait two minutes.' Damn."
"The best results take time," Sylus teases.
You shoot him a half-hearted glare. "Fine. What should we talk about for two minutes?"
He hums as he taps a finger on your hip. "I don't think I ever asked: Why are you so eager to find a lipstick that doesn't transfer?"
"Well," you wipe your thumb along his lip, dragging the lingering color with it, "it's embarrassing to drink from a glass and leave a big smudge behind."
He chuckles. "That's what's got you so worried, sweetie?"
You trace the rouge up to his prominent cupid's bow. "Mm, not completely." You wonder what he'd look like with lipstick on him properly. You're sure he'd look amazing. Hell, even like this, covered with all your kisses, he looks good. You're damn near convinced he can pull any look off.
He squeezes your sides. "Tell me," he implores, voice soft and tender.
You sigh. "When we go to auctions, I feel like I can't kiss you," you admit quietly. "Everyone there is so... imposing. I don't want to, well, do this to you," you gesture at all the lipstick stains, "and ruin your reputation."
"Sweetie." He cups your cheek in his large hand. It holds you perfectly, always. You lean into it without a second thought. He smiles. "My reputation isn't that fragile. Besides..."
His voice gets lower as he draws you in. You could get high on the way his eyes flicker to your mouth. His nose brushes yours, hot breath shared in the centimeters of space left between you.
"How else will they know who I belong to?"
Your breath hitches. His mouth is on yours, seeking, claiming, drawing you deeper into him. You feel the creamy texture of smudged lipstick as you hold his face, slide your fingers along his neck into his hair. It streaks along his perfect skin.
His tongue licks the seam of your lips, begs for entrance. You tug at his hair as you let him in. He groans into your mouth, sighs a wanton rendition of your name. Your shirt slips up your waist as he dives a hand below the fabric to press against your bare skin.
You pull away sharply. "The lipstick!"
His eyes look murderous for being disturbed, by you of all people. Still, he contains himself enough not to dive right back in. Just barely. What he can’t contain is the furrow in his brow and the frown he wears.
You ignore the smudges of color on his skin, matching stains on your hands, as you tilt his head up to better look at his lips. They're still stained with that light red from before, but-
"Sy! It worked! This one didn't smudge!"
"Perfect." He pulls you roughly back down to him, biting your colored lip before licking it sinfully. "Let's take it for a test run, shall we?"
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy
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iidrk3i · 7 months ago
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☆ ACTIONS OVER WORDS
hq -- tsukishima kei x gn!reader
summary: tsukishima kei doesn't know how to say he's sorry. so instead, he tries apologizing in a different way.
warnings: a bittt angsty but fluff in the end, brief food mentions, tsukki calls reader overbearing, nothing too much :)
word count: 768
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there he was, sitting on the couch with his head lolled on the headrest. what had started as a small disagreement between the two of you became a heated argument, which resulted in tsukishima calling you overbearing.
in your defense, you were just reminding your boyfriend to eat his meals everyday. this was the third time this week that you had reminded him, but something about today really ticked him off.
after tsukishima had gotten the last word in, he caught a glimpse of your face before you headed off into your shared bedroom. it was clear that you were upset with him, and you had every right to be. you weren't being overbearing at all. you were just being the kind person that he fell in love with. the person who looked out for everyone that they loved.
tsukishima looked at his phone. 6:43pm. he’s been sitting on the couch for a good 15 minutes trying to think of something to say to you. he wanted to say something sincere, something that would be genuine, but no matter how hard he thought, no matter how long he sat and waited for something to come to him, nothing was coming to mind.
that’s when tsukishima thought of a different tactic.
he had gone online and searched up your favorite take out place, ordering something for the both of you. once the food had arrived, tsukishima finally built up the courage to knock on the bedroom door. when he was met with silence, his hand hovered over the doorknob for a second, ultimately coming to the decision to walk in.
“oi y/n, i- uh.. i ordered takeout for us, if you're hungry," tsukishima stammered, feeling the weight of his words from earlier still heavy on his shoulders. he hesitated for a moment, unsure if you would even want to see him.
inside the dimly lit bedroom, you were seated on the edge of the bed, your back turned towards him. you had been replaying the argument in your mind, questioning whether you were indeed being too pushy. your thoughts were interrupted by his voice, and despite feeling hurt, you couldn't deny the rumbling in your stomach at the mention of food.
you turned slightly to look at him, noticing the takeout bags in his hands. the gesture made your heart melt. tsukishima cleared his throat nervously, taking a small step closer. "i... i know i was out of line earlier. you were just looking out for me," he began, his voice low. "i appreciate that, really. i'm sorry for calling you overbearing."
you remained silent, your gaze fixed on the floor as you processed his words. tsukishima shifted uncomfortably at the doorframe. "can we... can we talk about this?" he asked tentatively, taking another small step forward. "or at least, can we eat together?"
you glanced up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. despite the hurt feelings, you knew that tsukishima wasn't one to apologize easily. the fact that he had ordered your favorite food showed that he was trying, in his own way, to make amends.
finally, you nodded silently, gesturing towards the bed. tsukishima exhaled quietly in relief, setting the takeout containers down on the bedside table before joining you. for a while, neither of you spoke as you ate, the quietness was comfortable.
after a few minutes, tsukishima broke the silence cautiously. "i mean it, y/n. i shouldn't have said those things. i know you care about me, and i... i care about you too." his voice was hesitant, but genuine.
you looked at him then, meeting his gaze. "i know," you replied softly, your tone was enough for tsukishima to know you were forgiving him. "i just... sometimes i worry, you know?"
he nodded, his expression serious. "i get that. and i promise i'll try to be more mindful. you deserve that."
with those words, all the tension leaves the air. the conversation flowed more easily from there, the both of you gradually finding common ground and understanding. by the time you finished eating, a sense of comfort hung in the air.
as tsukishima gathered up the empty containers, you reached out to touch his arm lightly. "thank you, kei,” you said sincerely, meeting his eyes once more. "for trying."
he smiled faintly, a hint of relief in his expression. "thank you for not giving up on me," he replied, his voice soft.
and with that, the evening unfolded into a quiet understanding between the two of you, strengthening the bond that had drawn you together in the first place.
a/n: this one’s a little messy😓
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barnacles34 · 3 months ago
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Steamy Mornings and Massages (Winter x Male OC)
7k words
Tags: smut, fluff, office sex, office massage, soulmates, romance, very love-heavy
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Chapter 1: The Day After
"Let's just stay here," Minjeong murmured, pressing soft kisses to the crown of Junho's head. The morning alarm had shattered what his typically precise mind had categorized as Optimal Comfort Configuration™, but neither of them had moved to silence it[1].
His face remained buried in the crook of her neck, accepting what his mind reluctantly acknowledged as the only form of comfort he'd ever truly wanted. "Well, my secretary," he rumbled against her skin, the possessive pronoun carrying new weight in the morning light, "on a very important day, doesn't want to go to work?" Despite his words, his arms tightened incrementally around her waist, betraying his own reluctance.
Minjeong's embrace constricted in response, her Busan accent thick with morning warmth. "What are you going to do? Fire me?" Despite the implied challenge, she still continued to press soft kisses on his forehead. He tightened his embrace further, relishing in the warmth of Minjeong.
The challenge in her voice activated something primal in his executive functioning. His teeth grazed her neck in warning, hovering over precisely the spot that would make any low-necked blouse useless to wear for the following days. "Maybe," he murmured, his hand sliding to the small of her back with deliberate intent, dangerously close to the curve of her backside, "I'll fire you and keep you here, all day long, so that you belong only to me."
"That's..." her breath hitched as his hand dropped lower, "...rather unprofessional of you."
He lifted his head just enough to fix her with that boardroom stare that never failed to make her pulse race. "Says the woman currently preventing her CEO from attending his meetings." Her CEO? Something warm raced inside of her—she thought, her ceo? And this time, she wrapped her arms tighter—however much her thin arms could tighten; nevertheless, an affectionate hug.
"I prefer to think of it as optimizing your morning routine," she countered, though her professional efficiency was somewhat undermined by the way she melted under his touch, furthermore when he traced the curves of her backside. "Some things are more important than the Zhang Corp merger."
His laugh vibrated against her throat. "Careful, Secretary Kim. That sounds dangerously close to insubordination."
"And what does the CEO do with insubordinate employees?" The question emerged soft and weaker than intended as his mouth traced a deliberate path along her collar, trying her most obnoxiously.
"That depends," he murmured, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made her breath catch. "Are they all as beautiful as you when they disobey direct orders?"
She attempted to maintain her composure, though her hands betrayed her by pulling him closer. "I wouldn't know. I've never seen you like this with other employees[2]."
"No," he agreed, suddenly serious as he raised his head to meet her gaze. "You haven't. You won't."
The intensity in his eyes made her throat tight. "Promise?"
Instead of answering, he caught her mouth in a kiss that effectively ended all discussion of work protocols and proper business conduct[3]. The morning sun painted complex equations of light across their entangled forms, but for once, neither of them was counting the minutes.
[1] The first recorded instance of CEO Kim's morning alarm continuing past its initial 0.3-second alert phase, a fact that would require significant updates to the home automation system's behavioral prediction models.
[2] The security system's emotion recognition protocols flagged this moment for what its algorithms could only classify as "Unprecedented Display of Executive Vulnerability."
[3] Later analysis would suggest that certain forms of insubordination yielded surprisingly positive results in terms of overall company morale, though these findings were kept strictly off the official record.
"You haven't eaten properly in days," Minjeong observed softly, her fingers tracing the subtle tension in his shoulders that most wouldn't notice. But she wasn't most people—she'd spent months learning to read the microscopic signs of his stress levels[4].
"I've been eating," he defended, though his attempt at authority was somewhat undermined by the way he instinctively relaxed under her touch.
"Coffee and quarterly reports don't count as meals," she countered, continuing her gentle exploration of his shoulder muscles. "I've watched you skip lunch three times this week alone."
He lifted his head to study her face, finding that mix of strength and tenderness that had first undone him. "You keep track of my meals?"
"I keep track of everything about you," she admitted, not backing down from his intense gaze. "Someone has to notice when you forget to take care of yourself."
His hand curved around the nape of her neck, thumb brushing her pulse point. "And you've appointed yourself to that position?"
"Consider it an extension of my secretarial duties," she murmured, then gasped softly as he tightened his grip in warning.
"There's nothing secretarial about the way you take care of me," he corrected, voice low and dangerous. "Is there, Minjeong-ah?"
The informal address, rarely used, made her breath catch. "No," she agreed quietly. "There isn't."
He studied her for a long moment, his analytical mind cataloging the flush in her cheeks, the slight quickening of her breath, the way she yielded to his touch while somehow maintaining that core of quiet strength[5]. "You're dangerous," he finally said, “dangerously beautiful, so beautiful,” then a kiss on the side of her neck which, eventually, will turn into a hickey and Minjeong hadn’t the power to resist her CEO’s advances anymore.
"Me?" She replied, out of breath, tremored, brilliantly transformed by her smile—the type of smile men fight wars for, the type of smile sinewy sociopathic CEOs would drop down for. "I'm just trying to make sure Korea's most brilliant CEO—I mean, my CEO, remembers to eat breakfast." Her small hand collected the waves of his hair, the aroma of the shampoo she recommended wafted in the air.
“Minjeong, you’re driving me crazy.”
“Is that a problem?” She pulled back her hand along his scalp, gathering hair, then trailing all down his nape, to his back: the type of affection that says, even if you were insane, I’d still be crazy about you.
Instead of answering directly, he pressed his lips to her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth—a calculated sequence of kisses that made her melt further into his embrace. "The only problem," he murmured against her skin, "is that you're making it very difficult to want to leave this bed."
[4] Her observation logs, never shared but meticulously maintained, included such details as the precise angle of his jaw when overwhelmed, the subtle shift in his typing rhythm when stressed, and the exact tone of voice that meant he'd skipped meals.
[5] The home automation system's behavioral analysis protocols struggled to categorize this new dynamic, where authority and surrender seemed to flow both ways simultaneously.
"Three days," Minjeong continued, her fingers finding the knots in his shoulders with practiced ease. "You've had that tension here since the Singapore deal started falling apart." The morning light caught the subtle furrow in his brow as he processed her words, realizing she'd been tracking his stress levels without him noticing. Her touch was methodical yet tender, each pressure point targeted with the same precision she applied to his scheduling.
"I didn't think anyone had noticed," he admitted, then caught her knowing smile. "Except you."
"I always notice," she replied simply. "Like how you've been drinking twice your usual coffee intake, or how your left eye twitches slightly when the board sends those passive-aggressive emails." Her hands moved lower, finding another point of tension. "You hide it well, but not from me."
He caught her wrist, bringing it to his lips. "It becomes…oddly weird when I see you do the things I usually do." The tease in his voice was softened by the way he pressed kisses to her fingertips.
"Consider it preventive maintenance," she countered, not backing down despite Junho trying to hide his habits under the rug, not backing down despite the heat in his gaze. "Someone needs to monitor your functionality levels[6]."
"Functionality levels?" His laugh rumbled against her skin as he shifted to hover over her. "Is that what we're calling this?"
"Would you prefer 'executive performance metrics'?" She managed to keep her voice steady even as his mouth traced a deliberate path down her throat. "I have spreadsheets..."
"Of course you do," he murmured, teeth grazing her collarbone in retaliation. "My perfectly thorough secretary, tracking every detail."
"Not just details," she breathed, hands sliding up his chest. "I know when you skip lunch to avoid the board members. When you stay late reviewing reports that could wait until morning. When you need..." she paused as his hand curved possessively around her hip, "...someone to remind you that you're human."
The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Junho lifted his head to study her face, finding that unique blend of submission and strength that had first undone his carefully constructed defenses[7]. "And you've appointed yourself to that position?"
"Someone has to." Her smile carried traces of Busan sunshine. "Besides, I'm uniquely qualified."
"How so, Minjeong-ah?” Another tease. 
“Because you love me.” Minjeong stated, matter of factly. And this time, Junho seized her tight, trapping her under him, seizing her two thin wrists. Then, pressed a deep kiss onto Minjeong’s delicate lips. After a while, he released himself from the kiss, the kiss that Minjeong reluctantly let go of—her lips pointing outwards like a duck as he left. Finally, he said, “That’s right, I love you.”
Her stomach stirred with butterflies and more.
[6] Her personal files, never shared but meticulously maintained, included detailed protocols for managing various levels of CEO stress responses, from subtle intervention to direct action.
[7] The exact moment of this defensive breach had been logged by the building's security systems, though the footage was classified under "Executive Privacy Protocols."
Minjeong lingered in bed, her heart performing calculations that had nothing to do with quarterly reports. The smart home system's sensors detected her elevated pulse rate, though no algorithm could properly quantify the joy radiating from her smile[8]. She stretched luxuriously against Egyptian cotton sheets that still held traces of his warmth, letting herself marvel at the reality of being here, in his space, surrounded by evidence of Junho.
Her mind couldn't help but catalog the endearing chaos around her—academic journals scattered across surfaces, a tablet displaying economic projections that had clearly been reviewed at 3 AM, several coffee cups in various states of abandonment. The morning light revealed what darkness and desire had hidden the night before: Junho's private space was a fascinating contradiction to his public persona, a detail she filed away with all her other precious observations of him.
Rising with practiced grace, she padded across cold hardwood floors, her bare feet gliding across the floor. His dress shirt from the previous night—the one that had hung open as they'd discovered more interesting uses for his mahogany desk—called to her like a siren song. She slipped it on, the fabric carrying traces of his unisex cologne and something uniquely him that made her stomach flutter[9].
Junho emerged from his ensuite bathroom to find her like this: drowning in his shirt, examining his space with that careful attention she brought to everything concerning him. His breath caught audibly.
"That's mine," he noted, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that never failed to make her pulse race.
She turned to face him, letting the hem of his shirt brush against her thighs. "Really? I think it’s mine."
[8] The home automation system logged this moment as: "Secondary User Biometrics Indicating Unprecedented Levels of Serotonin. CEO Response: Highly Favorable."
[9] Security footage would later reveal this as the exact moment CEO Kim's usually impeccable morning routine experienced a critical efficiency failure, though no one questioned why that particular shirt never made it to the dry cleaners.
"You know," Junho mused against her neck, his hands tracing idle patterns on her thighs, "for someone so concerned about my eating habits, you're being very distracting in my kitchen."
"Me?" Minjeong's attempt at innocence was undermined by the way her fingers kept playing with his hair. "I'm trying to feed you."
"Wearing my shirt. Sitting on my counter." His smile carried equal parts mischief and heat as he pulled back to look at her. "I'm starting to think this is corporate sabotage, Secretary Kim."
She tried to maintain her professional expression, though her lips twitched. "I would never compromise company productivity, 사장님."
"No?" He raised an eyebrow, fingers sliding deliberately higher under his shirt. "Then explain why Korea's most efficient CEO is currently contemplating skipping his 9 AM."
"Poor executive guidance?" she suggested, then squeaked as he nipped her earlobe in retaliation. "I mean... clearly you need better supervision."
"Is that your professional opinion?" His laugh was warm against her skin. "And I suppose you're volunteering for the position?"
"Well," she threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging gently, "I do have extensive experience in handling difficult executives."
He lifted his head, eyes dancing. "Difficult?"
"Demanding," she amended, then added with deliberate sweetness, "High-maintenance?"
"You," he declared, catching her wrists and pinning them behind her back with one hand, "are getting dangerously bold with your performance reviews[12]."
Her answering smile was pure sunshine. "Does that mean I'm not getting that raise?"
"Oh, I'll give you a raise," he promised, his free hand sliding up her spine as he pressed closer. "Right after we discuss your insubordination."
"I have a presentation prepared," she managed, though her breath hitched as his mouth found that sensitive spot behind her ear. "Complete with charts on CEO stubbornness metrics..."
"Using company resources for personal research?" His mock disapproval was somewhat undermined by the way he couldn't stop smiling against her skin. "That's a serious violation of corporate policy."
"And what's the penalty for that?" She arched into his touch, shameless. "More overtime with my boss?"
"Definitely." He captured her mouth in a kiss that tasted like laughter and promise. "Starting now[13]."
[12] The home automation system registered this interaction as a significant deviation from standard performance review protocols, though it noted remarkable improvements in overall satisfaction metrics.
[13] Later analysis of the kitchen's usage patterns would reveal this as the morning the coffee maker recorded its latest ever first brew, a delay that would become surprisingly routine.
"We're going to be late," Minjeong observed, though she made no move to leave her perch on the counter as Junho's hands mapped new territories beneath his borrowed shirt. The morning sun painted gold across his shoulders, and she couldn't resist tracing the light with her fingers.
"Concerned about punctuality now?" His smile was wicked against her collar. "After deliberately sabotaging your CEO's morning routine?"
"I would never," she protested, then gasped as his teeth found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I'm simply... optimizing your schedule."
"Is that what we're calling it?" His laugh vibrated through both their bodies as he pressed closer, effectively trapping her against the granite. "And how does this particular optimization benefit the company?"
Her fingers curled into his hair as his mouth traced a deliberate path down her throat. "Improved executive mood... increased satisfaction metrics... better work-life balance..."
"Very thorough analysis," he approved, his hand sliding higher up her thigh. "Though I think we need more data points[14]."
"준호야..." Her professional composure cracked entirely as his fingers found bare skin. "The Zhang Corp meeting..."
"Can wait." He lifted his head to meet her gaze, his smile carrying that perfect blend of authority and affection that never failed to undo her. "I'm conducting important research."
"On what?" She managed to arch an eyebrow despite her rapidly dissolving coherence. "How to make your secretary lose her mind?"
"Girlfriend," he corrected, voice dropping to that dangerous register as his thumb traced patterns on her inner thigh. "And I believe we were discussing your performance review[15]."
Jun abruptly stopped their performance review midway because the deal was on the line and time was running short. Minjeong was reminded of this painfully by how Jun pulled away from the kiss—she was pouty about it until they reached the office, when her damascus-like resolve kicks in.
[14] The kitchen's environmental sensors registered multiple instances of what could only be classified as "Critical Protocol Deviations," though these readings were automatically archived under "Executive Privacy Settings."
[15] HR would later note a curious correlation between the CEO's improved mood and these new "morning performance evaluations," though no one dared to investigate further.
Chapter 2: The Meeting
The Zhang Corp representatives sat across the mahogany conference table, their expressions carefully neutral as they reviewed the merger proposals. Minjeong maintained her perfect professional facade, though her pulse quickened every time Junho's hand brushed hers as she passed him documents[1].
"The third quarter projections," she murmured, leaning close enough that his cologne made her thoughts stray to their morning activities. His finger tapped twice against the paper—their private signal that he needed a moment to compose himself.
"As you can see," Junho addressed the room with that commanding presence that made board members squirm, though Minjeong could detect the slight roughness in his voice that hadn't been there before their morning 'delay', "our integration timeline is aggressive but achievable."
She took her seat beside him, crossing her legs in a way that made his pen pause fractionally on the contract. Two could play at this game of professional torture. His response was to rest his hand on her thigh under the table, hidden from view but commanding enough to make her breath catch[2].
"Secretary Kim," he said smoothly, his thumb tracing dangerous patterns against her skin, "would you pull up the logistics breakdown?"
"Of course, 사장님." She managed to keep her voice steady as she reached for her tablet, though her free hand found his wrist under the table, her fingers curling around it in what could have been either submission or warning.
The meeting proceeded with perfect corporate efficiency, though the undercurrent of tension between CEO and secretary created what the room's environmental sensors could only classify as "Critical Atmospheric Pressure"[3].
[1] The conference room's biometric scanners noted elevated heart rates in both CEO and secretary, though this data was diplomatically omitted from official meeting records.
[2] Security footage would later require careful editing to maintain professional appearances, particularly regarding certain "under-table activities."
[3] The Zhang Corp representatives would later confess to the fact that they could tell what was happening, no amount of demure leg-crossing could hide it. Though, they ignored it in order to get that deal (which was integral to them).
The private office door clicked shut behind them, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across imported marble floors. Junho rolled his shoulders, tension evident in his posture despite the meeting's success[4].
"Come here," Minjeong said softly, recognizing the signs of his post-negotiation stress. She guided him to his leather chair, her hands already moving to his shoulders. "You get so tense during these meetings." Instead of standing behind him and the chair, she stood in front, impending a mount to get ‘better access’ to his shoulders.
"Keeping my hands to myself requires considerable effort," he admitted, then groaned softly as her fingers found a particularly tight knot. "Especially when you keep giving me those looks."
"What looks?" Her innocent tone was betrayed by the way her hands slid lower, tracing patterns down his upper chest. "I was being perfectly professional."
He caught her wrist, tugging her to face him. "Professional? Is that what you call that thing you did with your pen?"
"Taking notes?" She smiled down at him, letting her fingers trail along his tie. "I'm very thorough in my documentation."
"Very thorough," he agreed, pulling her into his lap with practiced ease. "Though I noticed some interesting gaps in the meeting minutes."
"Oh?" Her hands returned to his shoulders, kneading the tension even as she shifted closer. "Like what?"
"Like how many times you deliberately brushed against me," his voice dropped lower as her fingers worked their magic, "or how your skirt kept riding up when you reached for files[5]."
"Maybe," she breathed, her ministrations becoming less therapeutic and more intentional, "your secretary just needs better supervision."
His laugh rumbled through both their bodies. "Is that what you need, Secretary Kim?"
Instead of answering, she pressed a kiss to that spot below his ear that always made him growl. His hands tightened on her hips in warning, but she didn't stop her exploration of his neck, her fingers still working the tension from his shoulders even as she created a different kind of pressure entirely.
"The door," he managed, though his hands were already sliding under her blouse.
"Locked," she murmured against his skin. "I'm very efficient."
"My perfect secretary," he agreed.
[4] The office's environmental controls registered what could only be classified as "Post-Meeting Stress Relief Protocol: Executive Override Engaged."
[5] The meeting's official minutes would maintain strict professional standards, though certain observations were kept in much more private records.
"You're still tense," Minjeong observed, her fingers tracing new patterns down his spine. The afternoon light painted gold across his desk, where various merger documents lay forgotten. "Let me take care of you properly."
She slid from his lap, moving behind his chair with practiced grace. Her hands returned to his shoulders, this time with more purposeful intent. Junho's head fell back as she worked a particularly tight knot, a sound escaping him that had nothing to do with professional conduct[7].
"That noise," she murmured, leaning close enough that her breath teased his ear, "is definitely not going in the meeting minutes."
His laugh turned into another groan as her thumbs hit a sensitive spot. "Keeping secrets from the board, Secretary Kim?"
"Only the interesting ones," she admitted, her hands sliding lower, tracing the muscles of his back through his expensive shirt. "Like how my very commanding CEO turns to putty when I do this..."
His hand shot up to catch her wrist in warning. "Careful," his voice carried that dangerous edge that made her stomach flip. "You're getting bold with your observations."
"Just maintaining detailed records," she breathed, not backing down despite his grip. "For example, when I press here..." Her free hand found another knot, making him inhale sharply. "Your left eye twitches slightly. And when I do this..." She leaned forward, letting her lips brush his neck. "Your pulse jumps exactly like it did during the merger talks[8]."
The chair spun suddenly, Junho pulling her back into his lap with decisive force. "You," he growled, hands spanning her waist, "are playing a dangerous game."
Her smile was pure innocence, though her fingers were already working his tie loose. "I'm simply being thorough in my duties, 사장님."
"Your duties," he repeated, watching her with dark amusement as she stripped his tie with expert efficiency. "Is that what we're calling this?"
"Would you prefer 'executive stress relief'?" She gasped as his teeth found her collar. "Or maybe 'personnel management'?"
His laugh vibrated against her skin. "I prefer," he murmured, hands sliding deliberately up her thighs, "when you stop talking altogether[9]."
[7] The office's audio sensors temporarily malfunctioned during this period, a technical glitch that occurred with suspicious regularity during certain "private meetings."
[8] Her personal files contained extensive documentation of CEO behavioral patterns, though certain observations were encrypted under "Private Research: Ongoing."
[9] The afternoon's remaining meetings would require creative rescheduling, though no one questioned why the CEO's mood had improved so dramatically.
"You missed a spot," Minjeong murmured against his mouth, her fingers finding another knot of tension in his shoulders even as she shifted closer in his lap. The leather chair creaked softly beneath them, a sound that would forever carry new associations in both their minds[10].
"Did I?" His hands slid higher beneath her skirt, mapping territories that were becoming dangerously familiar for office hours. "Or are you just making excuses to keep touching your CEO?"
She pulled back just enough to give him that look—the one that somehow managed to be both defiant and yielding. "I take my responsibilities very seriously, 사장님."
"I've noticed," he growled, catching her wrist as she tried to maintain the pretense of massage. "Like how seriously you took those meeting notes earlier. Very... thorough."
Her laugh caught in her throat as his lips found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I was documenting important observations."
"Such as?" His teeth grazed her pulse point, making her grip his shoulders for balance.
"Such as," she managed, though her professional tone wavered as his hands grew bolder, "how the great Kim Junho gets distracted when I cross my legs. How your voice drops exactly half an octave when you're trying not to react to me. How you tap your pen twice when you're thinking about—"
He silenced her with a kiss that effectively derailed all attempts at analysis[11]. When he finally pulled back, her dazed expression made him smirk. "Any other observations to record, Secretary Kim?"
“I must’ve forgotten, I usually remember better when you kiss me.” She hinted, and he obliged, letting his lips connect yet again with Minjeong. This time, the endless teasing reached a breaking point that both of them coalesced to at the same time.
He tightly grasped her backside then pulled her up from the executive chair to the executive table. Wherein, she was splayed across the wide table. “We really have to ban tables when we’re around each other.” She joked. 
“That’d be a terrible idea.”
“How so?”
“Where else could I splay you across like this, then explore you, centimeter-by-centimeter?”
“Hmm…” she hummed, pleased, "Yeah?"
“Yeah.”
“Then come here, my ceo.”
“My beautiful secretary, whatever shall I do with you?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you find out?” She pulled as tight as she could, locking her arms around his neck.
He obliged, meeting lips with her once again. He felt the softness of her face as he explored deeper into the kiss, forgetting time and everything except what was being shared between them. Journeying his hands further, entangling it into the silken strands of his lover as he deepened the kiss, and she replied with a deep sigh—trembling with a mix of her high register. 
“You’re such a good woman for me, Minjeong.” He said before nipping at her lower lip, catching it softly between his teeth with a teasing tug, Minjeong let out a breathless laugh, “you’re devouring me, Junho.” Regardless, he dug deeper, letting his entire body shift into Minjeong’s malleable, petite body—letting his hand explore more of her silken strands, almost saying, yes Minjeong, that is my purpose: to devour you.
Now, instead of every 5 seconds, Minjeong’s soft moans that only served to goad Junho on were musically released into his ears every second. Precautiously, she asked, “how good is the soundproofing in your private room-ah!”
“Not good enough to hide your moans, dear.” He replied, his voice like rough gravel. Her eyes widened suddenly from the need to hide her moans. Yet he dug deeper, letting his loin rub against her wet bottom, daring her moan out loud.
Despite all the regulations, the possible condemnation, their passions only grew more. Mouths moving in sync, gazes meeting momentarily, it wasn’t just kissing anymore—it was a language. The type of language where Minjeong coalesced to his dangerous games and learned to enjoy it, almost as much as him.
“Junho, seriously, I don’t want to be seen as-”
“Minjeong-ah, I don’t give a single fuck if my employees hear you and I.” The teeth that so brazenly tugged on her lower lips trailed down her neck, tracing the soft tendons.
Whispering, in a verbose way, “And as you are my secretary, my extension, my life-line, you’ll follow. Me.” And as Minjeong was getting battered by the gravel-slung voice of Junho—she hadn’t noticed how her blouse was opened, bra pushed down to reveal the breasts that he was so infatuated with—only until she felt the torsion of her nipple.
“Ngh!”
“I love that, Minjeong, scream out. I’ll fuck you until the entire floor hears you call my name.”
And another wet mewl that inspired his further deviance.
Feeling the soft suction of his mouth on her neck, she deduced that it could only mean one thing: another hickey just placed above the collar of her blouse, the same sort of hickey that the Zhang corp executives couldn’t keep their eyes off of—any justification in their minds that it was a skin discoloration was debilitated by how intensely Minjeong and Junho shared those deadly glances, likely to jump on each other as soon as they left—and they were right.
“Junho—ngh!”
“Louder.” He replied, testing her, “fucking. Louder.” Then he pressed deeper, grinding his rough textured pants on the creamy soft bottom of Minjeong.
“Please Junho, seriously.” Was all that she could get out of her bated breaths, her deep moans.
Then suddenly, he stopped, caressing the softness of her cheeks with his, back-handed, knuckles.
“You look so beautiful when you’re all tired and exhausted, did I tell you that before?” Letting the tune of his voice marinate with Minjeong (who was recovering from how hot and bothered she was just a second ago).
However good his intentions were, he wasn’t perfect. The way Minjeong’s body looked splayed against the messy paperwork, her blonde hair all frizzy and stuck to the desk, how her chest went in-and-out catching all the breath she lost—all of it made it impossible for him to resist anymore.
He pounced on her again, connecting lips against her wet, trembling lips that nonetheless accepted him so openly, like a warm cup of milk tea on a winter morning. That momentary pause had changed everything, Minjeong—now fully conquered by him—was begging for that penetrative action that he would give out so liberally to her.
“Naughty woman, bad secretary, what else?”
“Junho’s toy.” 
“Fuck.” And in a flash, his belt flew off, then in another flash, his pants fell down. 
“Tented much?” She was truly in no position to tease: a strategic error.
He grinned at the statement, finally, teasingly, let his underwear fall inch-by-inch. 
Simultaneously, she bunched up her legs then pulled off her panty that revealed the color combinations that he would die for. Though before he could look for longer, she crossed her shins—hiding the cause of Junho’s demise behind her thin legs.
They shared a giggle before Jun hugged her soft body.
“I will penetrate you in this office.”
“Yes. It appears so.”
“No, like, do you consent?”
“Idiot..” Minjeong pulled him in for another kiss. Which, coincidentally, made his tip graze her engorged and swollen core, Minjeong almost came instantaneously from that alone.
And he could tell, laughing, “Seriously, Minjeong?”
“It’s your fault, you trained me like this.”
“This is like our 3rd time.” He said, as if to brush it off.
“This is my 3rd time.” 
And Minjeong would be certainly hurt by the thought that Junho’s partners before her made it more than his 3rd time for him—some of them, the girlfriends, she saw. 
He caught on the clues before it was too late, “Minjeong, not to compare, but who else have I been so crazy about? Who else did I track for every minute of the day? Who else did I let in my home (his girlfriends didn’t, actually, get to enter his home)? Who else would make me lose composure when they’re out of my sight-line?”
Letting his forehead touch against hers, he could feel her heart rend and beat and do all sorts of bothered gymnastics.
“It’s always been about you, Minjeong. You are the brilliance of my life, the expansion of a born star—bright from millions of light years away.”
And she needn’t say anything or reply. Absolving him by wrapping her arms tighter around his nape, then holding up her head to desperately kiss Junho again and again.
In between all the kisses, he penetrated Minjeong. His length, constricted against her core, travelled softly—wringing out all sorts of noises. Her swollen pussy wrapped around him gently but tight. “I love you, Minjeong.” Was the last thing said before Minjeong’s eyes went into the back of her head—a cute habit—before she orgasmed and creamed all over.
As per her request, Junho didn’t stop. He let his hips move as slow as he could possibly go before it could be called torture. During all this, Minjeong grabbed for stability as she was getting fucked through her orgasm, feeling that intense thrusting from the love of her life as she covered his length in more of her slick.
“Oh f-” He covered her mouth this time, respecting her wish to stay at least a little lowkey in the office, whatever the hell that meant right now. Then, shallow thrusts turned into slow thrusts all the way to the hilt, getting Minjeong to scrunch her face in pleasure, eyebrows knitted in the highest pleasure, her mouth agape with strands of her saliva connecting the roof of her mouth to her tongue.
“I love you, Minjeong. Fuck. This is insane, having sex with you in my office.”
“Ngh~ I - I love you so much,” was all that she could get across before succumbing to her dopamine receptors—eyes joining the back her head. Junho connected lips with her again, letting her legs lock around his waist, then rubbing his pelvis against her engorged core, clitoris and all.
After Minjeong finally got used to the familiar motions, he grasped her thin waist, almost wrapping his two hands around the entire circumference of her tight waist. Then their eyes met momentarily, Junho had the I am going to fuck you through this desk eyes whilst Minjeong had the prey eyes that relentlessly coalesced to him. Though, before he could go wild, he brushed off the stray hairs stuck to her forehead, gave a reaffirming kiss on her forehead before pumping all the way in.
The small of her back surrendered to his tight grip, bending against the pushes and pulls. Her legs tightened the lock around his waist—almost painfully tight, but that didn’t matter to him, who’d get to pummel her soft pussy.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he planted his body against Minjeong’s, pinning her two thin wrists against the stable table.
“You’re fucking me so good, Junho,” Minjeong replied, her rare use of the curse made him chuckle by the side of her head. 
“That’s right, baby,” Junho bear-hugged Minjeong, only thrusting deeper and deeper, pelvis rubbing against hers, to make her cum again.
“NGHHH~!” The abrupt moan startled him and herself—however, they didn’t care as much about the employees anymore after indulging in each other’s bodies. Instead of stopping or evaluating the situation—as the rationalists would do—they dug deeper into each other, trying to carve each other with their soft and swollen lips.
Suddenly, he lifted Winter and turned her over. Bending her back against the table before dipping his cock into her pussy again. This time, the entrance was entranced with the soft, tight, wet feeling that he was fully obsessed with. This time, he had more ready access to her soft ass that was so soft and supple that he had to relieve it of its aesthetic beauty: with some redness spread across her ass.
“Oh my god!” Winter squeaked as she reacted against the heavy-handed slap against her ass, loving it, spreading—overflowing—his length with her slick.
Leaning over, he held Minjeong’s chin for the last stretch, considerably slowing down and enjoying each other’s presence.
“How much do you bet the coworkers will give us bad looks?”
“The female workers already give me horrible ones.” She said whilst her chin was held stable by his hand, still moaning against the soft thrusts.
“Hmm, broad generalization. How do you know this?”
“That hickey that you gave that was far too purple and far too above the collar of my blouse.”
“No long-necked turtleneck?”
“No, that’d ruin the point, I wanted to show off the gift my Junho-ssi gave.” That was the moment when he moaned hard, pressing deep inside Winter before releasing all his seed—the seed that Winter felt bounce against her cervix, making her moan out and squeal happily.
“God. Minjeong, you will be my demise.” He sighed before Winter turned around and kissed him, “as long as I get to stay with you, through demise and all,” she said between the kisses.
[10] The office furniture procurement department would later note an unusual request for "enhanced stability features" in executive seating, though they wisely chose not to inquire further.
[11] The building's environmental controls registered what could only be classified as "Critical Temperature Fluctuation - Executive Override Protocol Engaged."
Evening painted Seoul's skyline in shades of amber and gold, the office gradually emptying as another corporate day drew to a close. Only the executive floor maintained signs of life, though its usual efficiency had given way to something far more intimate[12].
"We should go home," Minjeong murmured against Junho's shoulder, though she made no move to leave her position in his lap. His shirt had long since been unbuttoned, her blouse delightfully rumpled, both their professional facades thoroughly compromised.
"Should we?" His fingers traced lazy patterns up her spine, his other hand still possessively curved around her hip. "I rather like having my secretary exactly where she is."
She lifted her head to meet his gaze, finding that unique blend of authority and affection that never failed to make her heart race. "Your secretary has plans for you."
"Oh?" His interest visibly peaked. "More performance reviews?"
"Better." She smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm cooking you dinner. Besides, breakfast was skipped."
The surprise in his expression made her laugh softly. "You don't have to—"
"I want to," she interrupted, then added with deliberate sweetness, "Unless my CEO is refusing a direct offer from his girlfriend?"
His hands tightened on her waist. "Using that title to manipulate me now?"
"Is it working?" She bit her lip, watching his eyes darken at the gesture.
Instead of answering, he pulled her into a kiss that suggested dinner might be delayed[13]. When they finally broke apart, his smile carried dangerous promise. "Your place or mine?"
"Yours," she decided, fingers playing with his collar. "Your kitchen needs christening properly."
His laugh rumbled through both their bodies. "Just the kitchen?"
"We'll see how dinner goes," she teased, then squeaked as he stood suddenly, lifting her with him. "준호야!"
"Efficient time management," he explained, setting her on her feet but keeping her close. "The sooner we leave..."
She pressed against him, deliberate and knowing. "The sooner you can help me... cook?"
"Among other things," he agreed, already reaching for his jacket. The predatory grace in his movements suggested cooking might not be the evening's primary activity[14].
[12] Security logs would note this as the third consecutive evening of "Extended Executive Hours," though the actual nature of these extensions remained diplomatically unrecorded.
[13] The office's automated systems began learning to expect these end-of-day delays, adjusting power consumption accordingly.
[14] The kitchen's motion sensors would later flag unusually high activity levels, though whether any actual cooking occurred remained a matter of some debate.
Fin
I fixed some stuff that I executed poorly before, like the crazy amount of math references; which, in foresight, was far too much.
I really had to get this out quickly. Now, I think it's a good idea to not expect anything from me for an entire month (hopefully not).
hope u enjoyed.
607 notes · View notes
darkbluekies · 25 days ago
Text
Hurting (reupload)
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Yandere!doctor och x reader
Summary: it's not often he lets you out of your room, and he figures, for good reason.
Warnings: yandere, a kiss, blood, violence, poisoning,
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: i must have accidentally deleted this when I was cleaning up the account but fortunately I have all my stories backed up so here you have it again😅
"Doctor?"
"Yes, Y/N?"
"Can we do something today? I don't want to sit in here all day again."
Dr Kry moves over to your bed slowly. "What would you like to do then?"
"It's so lonely sitting in here", you sigh. "Could we go to the lounge? Please? I want to be surrounded by people again."
"Y/N  you're fragile, you know that. You shouldn't breathe their air."
"But … I've been to other parts of the hospital and I was fine. I was even outside with you, remember?"
"Yes, and do you remember how weak you felt?"
You pout slightly. Another try that failed. Dr Kry tips his head, smiling slightly.
"Okay, what about this", he says. "You wear a little oxygen mask and then I'll take you to the patient's lounge?"
"You'd do that?" you ask excitedly.
"If it makes you happy."
"Yes, yes, it really will!"
Dr Kry smiles, nodding and says he will be back soon. You sit in your bed with a smile on your face until he returns. He has a machine with him and a plastic mask connected to it.
"You'll have to wear this over your face", he says. "The oxygen in the tank is pure for you. I've measured the toxic levels. It's safe."
"Will they laugh at me?" you ask carefully. "The other patients?"
"What? Of course not! They're wearing casts and bandages of all weird types, they won't even bat an eye."
"Do you promise?"
"Of course. If you want, you can hold onto me when we enter, if it feels scary."
"Yes, please."
Dr Kry tries to hide the smile creeping up on his face. You catch it and smile with him.
Dr Kry leads you through the white hospital corridors with his arm around your shoulders. His firm, protective grip is reserved for you. 
You enter the patients lounge and see people of all ages, ethnicities and genders sitting here and there. Some are discussing, some are playing games. And some are hiding for themselves in the corner.
"Alright …", Dr Kry mutters. "What would you like to do?"
You look around, eyes catching the Playstation console in front of a protected TV-screen.
"I want to play some games", you whisper. "Can I?"
"Let's go see what games they have."
You're not surprised that there are no shooting games. There are animal simulators, puzzle games and Lego star wars. Dr Kry nods, approving the little selection there is. You pick up a goat simulator.
"I'll be by the wall with the other doctors", Dr Kry whispers in your ear, rubbing your shoulder slightly. 
Otherwise they'll be suspicious of his close relationship to you. He has to blend in with them.
"Okay", you say softly, meeting his blue eyes. 
He thinks he's going to faint. Your eyes look so sparkly. He fixes your oxygen mask and gives you a small smile before walking over to the wall.
"It's not often we see your patient out and about", a doctor snickers.
Dr Kry doesn't look at him. He leans his back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. 
"They're sick", Dr Kry answers dryly. "Why would I let them out among bacteria?"
"You're still careful, I see", the other doctor smiles. "What exactly is wrong with them?"
Dr Kry flinches at that word. He turns his cold  blue eyes to the doctor.
"Nothing is wrong with them", he corrects him coldly. "They're just sick. Other than that they're perfectly normal."
"I didn't mean it like that, Kry. I was just wondering since they're always in their room. No ones allowed to meet them."
"I don't want them to become worse. Everything in that room is sterilized and pure, exactly what my patient needs. If I allowed people to walk in and out as they pleased, it'd be contaminated and they'd be worse."
The doctor nods. "I understand. You're a very dedicated man, Kry, I'm impressed. I've heard that you stay in the doctors dorms with the patient room telephone by your ear."
"I do have a life to care for. They're still sick even when my working hours are over. I have to be available in case something happens."
The doctor is about to answer when your voice cuts through the air. A loud, heartbreaking scream. Dr Kry snaps his head in your direction. Everything seems to go in slow motion. A boy has approached you and ripped the oxygen mask off of you. He's over you with the console in his hands. Dr Kry grows cold and runs forward. He reaches the boy and rips him off you, throwing him wherever he can. He silently hopes that he cracked his skull open on the drawing table. The doctor who he had talked to shoots forward to retrieve what seems to be his patient.
Dr Kry’s attention shifts to you. You're lying on the floor, trembling with tears in your eyes. Your lip is burst. He can tell that the Playstation controller has a bit of blood on it. In one quick motion, he scoops you up in his arms. You lock your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and hide your face into his broad shoulder. Dr Kry secures one of his strong arms around your waist and grabs a hold of the machine with the other.
"What the actual fuck is wrong with your patient?" Dr Kry spits angrily, angrier than he's ever been before. "They're not just sick, they're actually wrong! How dare he attack my patient like that?!"
"He didn't mean to-", the doctor tries.
"I don't believe that. Get your uncontrollable beast far away from my patients or I'll show that little bastard a thing or two."
Dr Kry doesn't wait for an answer. He walks out with you and the machina tightly clutched in his hands. You sob into his shoulder. The sound of it makes Dr Krys heart ache. Your body is trembling in his hold. He wants to check up on you, but you're not safe yet. You have to get back to your room first.
"Are you okay, little one?" he asks as he hurries through the corridors. "Try not to breathe so much filthy air, breathe down into my neck. Good job, just like that. You're doing so good. You'll be okay soon. I'll take care of you right when we get to the room."
He swings the door open to the hospital room and places you down on the nearest surface — the desk. He backs away enough to see your face.
"Poor thing, your lip is bleeding", he cooes and touches your bottom lip with his fingers ever so gently. 
He turns to the drawers to get you some cotton balls, swiftly placing his fingers to his lips. He's not one that usually likes the taste of blood, but he finds himself enjoying the metallic taste of yours. He flinches, stopping. Did he just really do that? 
Dr Kry gravs the cotton ball and a bit of disinfection substance and dabs it on your soft lips. You hiss and try to pull back.
"Y/N, stop, I have to clean it", he says apologetically. "I know it hurts, but I have to make sure it doesn't get infected. Be good for me now and I'll give you something fun later, okay?"
You nod unnoticeably. His heart absolutely shatters at the sight of your tears. He's so close to dropping the professional act and swooping you up in his arms — where nothing can ever hurt you again.
"There we go, your lip is clean", he says and takes your hands in his. "Are you hurt anywhere else? What did he do to you?"
"He wanted the game console and I said no … so he got mad. He demanded it again and I refused … so he ripped the mask off of me and tried to grab it. I refused to let it go so he ripped it from me and threw me down on the floor and hit me."
Dr Kry clenches his jaw. His grip on your hands tightens significantly. You whimper, begging him to let go of you. As if awoken from a trance, he apologizes and lets go.
"I'm not really hurt", you reassure him quietly. "I got more startled than hurt. I'm sorry if I scared you."
"You're bleeding. You're hurt. He hurt you. He won't get away with it."
You touch his shoulder carefully. He shivers.
"Your uniform …", you say in shame. "I got it bloody, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind", he smiles and wipes your tears with his hands. "It's washable." 
He fights the strong urge to hug you. Every nerve in his body fights bravely, but they're not strong enough. He wraps his arms around you to bring you into his embrace. The placement of you both makes him blush. You, sitting on his desk with him standing between your legs … it's all so dangerously close to what he wants. It's teasing him. He can't give in. Not more than this.
"I'm so glad you're okay", he whispers in your ear and tightens his embrace. "I got so scared. Are you sure that you're not hurt?"
"The only thing that hurts is my lip."
A sudden wave of confidence washes over him. He pulls back, glances at the cleaned wound.
"I can make it go away", he whispers in a husky voice he didn't know he could achieve. He glances at your eyes carefully. "May I?"
You give that nod again. He has half a second to contemplate before his lips will meet yours. One part of the brain tells him to stop, that this isn't professional. The other screams at him to hurry up, he's been waiting long enough. He gulps and finally, finally, allows his lips to meet yours. All air in his lungs disappears, but that doesn't matter, he doesn't need it. He wants to breathe you, day and night. You're softer than he could ever imagine. A small taste of blood fills his mouth. He has to kill that boy.
You place your hand on his clean shoulder and answer his kisses. It's the only signal he needs to hold you closer, bring you into him. He wonders — wishes — that you can feel how hard his heart is beating, so you can finally understand how much he has longed for you.
He understands that he has to pull back, whether he likes it or not, to not go further. 
"You're so unbelievably pretty, do you know that?" he whispers.
"Do you really think that?" you ask just as quietly.
"With all my heart."
You avoid eye contact for a few seconds before glancing back carefully.
"This won't change a thing, I promise", Dr Kry whispers with a small smile. "I'll still be your doctor. You can count on me, okay?"
You nod.
"Good", he smiles. "I think you should rest now. This has been very straining for you."
"Can you hold me?"
Dr Kry nods. He lifts you over to the bed and lies down beside you, holding you in his arms. You shut your eyes and slowly drift off to sleep. Dr Kry can feel an ounce of regret in him, but a big part of pride. He finally dared … he hopes you won't be uncomfortable with him now.
When he's sure that you're sleeping, he leaves the bed and tucks you in. He takes a good look at you, his beautiful patient. "As long as I'm here, nothing will hurt you", he whispers. "I'll get rid of everyone who causes you harm. I'll be back soon, that boy needs to be taught manners."
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finniestoncrane · 10 months ago
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HELLO I'm in love with the way you write for Cooper 😩👏💝fix idea: I was thinking he's DEFINITELY somebody who doesn't care who he looks anymore, but is still aware that he's got that CHARM yano, but maybe the reader is just "wow your eyes are so pretty" and he fuckin BLUSHES (Mr cooper Howard aka Mr ghoul cowpoke absolutely keels over cus somebody said he was puuuurrtty) 💥💥💥🔫 just all "shut your pie hole girlie" and shes 😏😏😏 ok handsome
Can Ghouls Blush?
Cooper Howard x GN!Reader, word count: 1k aaaaah thank you ;-; also i love this, i love the idea of flustering that horrible boy omg 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some threats (imean it's cooper), guns, mostly fluff though!
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“I know time means very little to someone who has been around for two hundred years, but how much longer are you gonna be?”
Cooper’s voice echoed out from the main room of the abandoned building you had slept in. From the bathroom, you could hear the frustration, despite his attempts to soften it up. He had no time for fun, no time for relaxing. It was survival and sweating, or nothing at all. But you could tell he had tried to soften it up a little, just for you. His irritation was still so obvious however, even as he offered you a playful roll as he approached the door, catching your eye in the reflection of the cracked mirror.
“Just a sec, then we can head out.”
The old hairbrush you had found by the sink was a well-received miracle. A little bit of normality, a chance to tidy yourself up somewhat.
“I just think it’s a waste of time is all. Preening for the Wasteland. I mean, who are you trying to impress out there? You already got the best catch.”
He flicked the brim of his hat with his gloved fingers, grinning wide, yellowed teeth bared at you as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.
“That’s exactly the problem. I have to make sure I look good to keep up with you, handsome.”
Your hand stroked along his cheek, a brief moment of eye contact as you walked past him towards the door of the bathroom and back out to the front of your temporary shelter.
“Handsome, huh?”
His voice seemed so much lighter now, more so than you had ever really heard before. And as you turned, you noticed the slight smile on his weathered lips, cheeks pulling up at the corners, eyes glinting as he stared straight back at you.
“Uh… yeah. You’re a very handsome guy, Coop.”
You almost had your fingers on the door knob, ready to leave for the start of your day, when you realised that you couldn’t feel Cooper’s presence behind you. Turning to see what was holding him up, you caught something in his eyes. A look of confusion, almost. Surprise. Disbelief. And a little bit of what you could swear was embarrassment. All this time together. Sleeping in each other’s arms, protecting each other from danger. Had you really never expressed to him your attraction? You had just assumed he knew. You spent long enough staring lustfully at him, it was surely a given. So you worried there was something else to it.
“What’s wrong, Cooper?”
“Nothing, I just… I was used to being called handsome, long time ago… not so much these days.”
As you stepped back towards him, closing the short distance, you could make out his expression much better, realising how astute your previous observation had been.
“Oh my god… Coop, are you blushing?”
He raised one finger, narrowing his brows as he tried to hide the endearing glee, offering you a forced stern look as he spoke.
“Don’t start playin’ stupid with me, you know I am not.”
Biting your lip, a mischievous smile forming, you gripped the lapels of his duster, teasing him as you stroked your thumb along one of his ridged, warm cheeks.
“Why, I didn’t even know big tough cowboys could blush, especially not the more ghoulish ones.” Can they blush? I'll need a closer look."
His fingers were tight around your wrist, gripping you fast and firm. He was trying so hard to maintain his tough exterior, but you could tell there was something softer in there that longed to come out, or at the very least, was desperate for someone to notice it. It was so obvious, even as he lowered his voice and growled at you.
“You turn around right now and start walkin’ out that door.”
Cooper took a step forwards, an attempt to regain his control of the situation, to push you towards doing his will, but you brought your hand up and laid your palm against his chest.
“Wait, just a second…”
It was nice to see him in this light. His confidence was always the dominant feature in his peronality, and it rarely wavered, if at all. But to know there were aspects of himself that he wasn't as sure of, and to know you could render him a little flustered just by complimenting them, made you smile. A grin that was returned by Cooper as you gazed into his warm, brown eyes.
"What is it you're lookin' for now, huh? You find it?"
"Yeah... turns out they can blush."
You turned quickly from him, practically skipping back towards the door of your temporary shelter, ready for another day of survival, this time tinted with a little more joy than usual. Your smile only grew wider as you heard Cooper, catching up with you, still trying to cover his embarrassment with the strained, empty aggressive threat that he chased you with.
"Now I will shoot you, you know that? You're pushing your luck today and we ain't even done anythin' yet."
But when he was certain you weren’t going to turn back around, he let himself smile a little. A soft glow in his eyes as he allowed himself to remember who he was, really. The kind of man that resided deep down inside, buried by years of solitude in the deep, dark ground, of struggling to adjust to the world. And struggling to adjust to himself. Even just a tiny reminder that, despite his charms and the charisma that tended to pull people in, that there was a bit of his old self left. That despite everything, despite who he had become, both physically and emotionally, someone might look at him with something other than fear first. With kindess, or lust. Or even love. That was enough to help him cling to the memories and look to the future with just the tiniest bit of hope, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time.
“You comin’, handsome?”
He smiled, biting his lip to curtail the spread of the easy grin.
“You bet.”
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v6quewrlds · 3 months ago
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can u write a fluffy clingy joe one shot?? maybe building legos or something!! i love ur work!! i hope u have a nice day!!🫶🏾
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: here's a fluffy little palette cleanser <3
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 0.9k.
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The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as you stirred the pot of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. You glanced at the clock; it was already past six in the evening, and the darkness outside pressed against the windows like a heavy blanket.
"Joe," you began as you poured the steaming liquid into two oversized mugs, "I understand you're upset, but maybe you should take this week to recharge. Watch some movies, play some video games, do something that doesn't involve football."
Joe sighed, taking the mug from you with a nod of gratitude. "You're probably right," he admitted. "But it's hard to sit still when all I can think about is what we could be doing to fix things."
You kissed his forehead gently. "You can't control everything, Joey. Sometimes you just have to trust that things will pan out the way they're meant to." You leaned in for a quick peck, then stepped back to pick up your warm mug.
Joe sighed again, his eyes lingering on the TV that was muted in the living room, displaying highlights of the Cavs-Pelicans game. "Fine," he said finally.
You raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"
"Fine," Joe repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we build that Lego set we got last Christmas?"
Your eyes lit up. "Seriously?" You had been dying to tackle the intricate, sprawling Star Wars that had remained in its box since Joe's brother, Dan, gifted it for Christmas. "You know I've been waiting for this moment."
Joe nodded with a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah, I figured it's time we put it together." He followed you to the living room, where you cleared the coffee table with a dramatic flourish.
You sat down across from each other, the instructions sprawled out between you. You picked up the instructions, your eyes scanning the pages. "Okay, we're building the Death Star," you said with a smile. "Where do we start?"
Joe leaned over, his sarcasm in full swing. "I'm surprised you remember what it is. You're the one who said it looked like a giant space donut when we opened the box."
You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, I know my Star Wars!" you protested. "The 4,000-piece count kind of took me by surprise, though."
Joe chuckled, sifting through the pieces. "Alright, space donut expert, let's get to it."
Your eyes were glued to the instructions, the pieces scattered around the two of you like a colorful minefield. A soft laugh filled the room as you held up a tiny Lego stormtrooper, your thumb and forefinger framing it like a photograph. "Look at this little guy," you said, grinning. "He's so cute."
"Cute? He's a symbol of imperial tyranny, babe," Joe retorted with a chuckle, earning a playful shove from you. Despite his initial hesitation, Joe was fully invested in the project. His mind was clear of the team dynamics that had consumed him all week. The Legos demanded his focus, and he gave it willingly.
You took a sip of your now lukewarm cocoa and leaned in closer to examine Joe's progress. "Looks pretty impressive," you said.
Joe glanced up, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's just Legos," he said, but you could hear the pride in his voice.
"No, it's not just Legos," you replied, setting your mug down. "I love it when you get all focused like this for something other than football. It's cute."
Joe rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Cute, huh?"
You nodded. "Yeah, like a big ol' teddy bear."
"Teddy bear?" Joe scoffed, but the playful teasing had lightened his mood. "I'll have you know I'm a very intimidating Lego architect."
You couldn't help but laugh at his defensive tone. "Oh, absolutely," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm quaking in my boots."
Joe smirked and tossed a Lego at you. It bounced off your arm and you feigned injury. "Careful there, Burrow," you said, your voice full of mock pain. "You wouldn't want to hurt the one who's keeping you fed and hydrated."
"Well, you're not helping much with the whole 'keeping me hydrated' part," Joe quipped, nodding towards his nearly empty mug. "I'll need more of that hot cocoa if I'm going to get through this."
You stood up with a smile. "Your wish is my command," you said, practically skipping back to the kitchen. As you brought the pot to a boil again, you watched Joe through the archway. The stress of the season had etched lines into his face, but as he worked on the Death Star, you could see them slowly smoothing out.
When you returned with the freshly filled mug, Joe took a grateful sip and leaned back, eyeing the progress. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I've been so caught up in work that I forgot how much I enjoy just... doing nothing."
You sat back down on the floor, your mug now steaming in your hands. "It's important to have hobbies," you agreed, your voice gentle. "Things that make you happy outside of football."
Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to the Legos. "You're right," he murmured, his voice a mix of acceptance and regret. "I just... I want to win so badly."
You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I know you do," you said softly. "And you will. But you'll have to wait a week to do it. For now, just enjoy the quiet."
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anashins · 3 months ago
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Could you write a bf!Jaehyun who made his gf!reader upset & trying to get her attention again by walking around shirtless/being touchy with her but reader ignores him. Days after, reader decides to turn tables and tease him instead, leading to smut?
Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: fluff, romance, smut
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: Jaehyun doesn't want to apologize, so you make him.
A/N: Hiii, I still have requests sitting around, so since I have time now, I'll get them done. Hope you like it :)
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“Here, let me help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
Jaehyun sighed and still squeezed himself past you to reach the upper shelf from where he got the glass of strawberry jam that you wanted for your breakfast. You flinched, but not because you hadn’t expected him to still help you, but because he was shirtless. 
Had you not, only a few minutes ago, seen him leaving the bedroom wearing his hoodie? He was doing it on purpose, you knew it too well by now. And every time though, it worked… dammit. 
You swallowed when you watched his arm stretch out, his defined muscles flexing with the motion. With his gaze fixed on the shelf, you were able to look at him blatantly from the side. If he could have seen you, you would have ignored him - like yesterday and the whole morning already.
You didn’t even know what you were fighting about anymore, but the point was that you expected an apology from him and he hadn’t given you one yet, claiming it wasn’t his fault and that you should apologize - the audacity?!
Just remembering this made you snap back to reality and you stopped drooling over your boyfriend’s hot body altogether again. You were together for quite a time already, you knew what his naked body was capable of, taking a few days off to let him think about what he had done wrong wouldn’t hurt you.
So when Jaehyun turned back to you, you were wearing your moody expression from before, which took him quite by surprise, you saw it written all over his face. You snatched the marmalade glass out of his hand and quickly left the kitchen.
That was a close call, you remembered thinking.
But throughout the entire day, you caught Jaehyun passing by you a little too close, wearing a bit too much aftershave, having his hair a bit too tousled and his pants hanging a bit too low… but each time, you were proud to say that were very good at resisting these temptations…
… though it took you all you’ve got to not jump on him nonetheless.
____
It had been two days since your fight and you finally had enough.
If Jaehyun didn’t want to apologize, then you would make him.
“Can you help me?”
Jaehyun entered the bedroom in a swift second. Perhaps, since you initiated this conversation, he was  hoping to finally make up with you again. Of course, you wanted that too by now, but it wasn’t going to be so easy for him.
“What is-”
The words got stuck in his throat when he spotted you, and he needed a moment to process the sight of you wearing a light, revealing negligee that only ended shortly beneath your bum. The fact that you weren’t wearing something underneath didn’t need to be spoken out, because it was Jaehyun’s favorite.
“What are you doing?” he asked carefully.
“I need help changing the sheets. Here.”
You threw a sweet, partially wicked smile at him while simultaneously handing the sheet over to him, and then shifted around - but not without shaking your bum a bit too obviously and throwing your hair over your shoulder a bit too enthusiastically. 
Jaehyun dropped the sheets almost immediately and had you in his grip within an instant, embracing you tightly from behind with one hand beneath your breasts and the other between your thighs, squeezing into the flesh. It hadn’t taken much effort or time, you had known it would work. After all, it worked all the time. 
You suppressed a giggle and stiffened your body in resistance while he sank his mouth in the side of your neck and started nibbling on the skin.
“I’m still mad,” you complained.
“I don’t care.”
Skillfully, he pulled away, then turned you in his grip so that a moment later, you were pressed into his chest and both his hands were grabbing your ass cheeks now, massaging them thoroughly. You cursed under your breath, he knew very well that you loved this too much, and you were asking yourself who was playing with who now and whether this had been his plan all along.
You weren’t able to say a word anymore though. Forgotten was the fact that you were still mad at him when shortly later, Jaehyun was lying underneath you on the mattress and stripped of all his clothes. With your finger tips, you traced along the lines of his abs while you simultaneously felt his length trying to pave its way past your thighs and into you. But you wouldn’t let him yet.
“Apologize,” you demanded, pressing his upper back down when he tried to brace his elbows against the mattress. 
“What?”
It took you much self-control with him twitching right at your entrance, but your ego was stronger than your desire. Or that was what you thought. “Apologize now. Otherwise I won’t continue.”
Saliva had collected in your mouth, and you swallowed it all down. Admittedly, this was the hardest position you had ever been in, because the desire your head and your core expressed at the same time couldn’t be more far off from each other and not align. You didn’t know who to listen to at his point, and Jaehyun’s turned on gaze didn’t help at all.
Suddenly, he chuckled. He stretched out his hand to caress your hidden nipple under the thin fabric of the lingerie and a deep sigh escaped your lips. “But we’re already there, didn’t you notice?”
Somewhere, between your thoughts and sighs, he had slipped all the way in already, and considering how wet you had already gotten from all the teasing and foreplay, it had been so very easy for him to do so. You arched your back when Jaehyun bucked his hips up, penetrating you deep inside.
“You like it? I can see that you like it.”
“No!” you lied, and he grinned even wider. 
The way your head lolled back and your thighs clenched around his groin to control the angle he was pushing into you, let him know that indeed, you were enjoying this very much. You always enjoyed whenever he did that. Only for a few moments, you let that happen. 
You then heaved up your hips and came down to him, matching his rhythm and now making him moan in return. It grew pleasantly wet where your bodies were connected, adding to the sensation so that not much later, you were feeling every fiber in your body tugging on a nearing orgasm.
But you wouldn’t lose, not when you were this close, and reading Jaehyun’s expression, he was even closer. Suddenly, you halted. But as to not let all the work go to vain, you settled on his hips and just slowly slid yours back and forth, creating only enough friction to keep you both on your nearing orgasms.
“Say… it,” you repeated, your breathing coming in hitches, “apo… logize.”
“Are you being for real right now?” Shock mixed with realization on Jaehyun’s face when it dawned on him that there was probably no way for you to let him release otherwise.
“Yes.”
To prove to him how serious you were, you lifted up your hip and came slamming down on him, making him gasp the moment your bodies crashed together. And then again, and again, pushing him closer to his release… and then stopped.
Jaehyun looked at you through fluttered lids, eyes heavy and lips dry. But he didn’t say a word. Fine. You bent forward and pressed your palms against his abs, angling your spine. Then again, you heaved up your hip, this time a bit higher, and as he feared you might let him out all the way, you slowly sank down on him again. Jaehyun hated this, and you knew. He draped his forearm over his face and cursed,
“Shitshitshitshitshitshit”,
but you didn’t stop. Only when you felt the onset of his pulsing motions from within, then you rested on top of him again. Even though it was hard for you too, you could keep this going.
“FINE!”
You widened your eyes, almost not believing what you had just heard. But you had no time to rise all the way up and watch him say it to your face as Jaehyun suddenly pulled you down to lie on top of his chest with his arms wrapped around your back, and whispered into your ear,
“I’m so sorry.”
“Very well.”
Only using your hips now, you remained in this position and picked up your movements without a break. You heard Jaehyun whimpering into your ear, begging for you to go faster until his grip around you got so tight, your breath nearly caught.
“I’m cumming,” he said after not too long and eventually did so in long spurts inside of you.
When he had made you cum too, all over his hands with your teasing lingerie all gone so that he was able to use his hands exploring and triggering all sensitive spots on your body, you were lying side by side on the bed, out of breath, but thoroughly happy.
“Please,” Jaehyun then said, “let’s never argue for this long again.”
“Hm. I don’t know. I think it has quite the benefits.”
Then, you both laughed.
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