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cornsoupflavour · 6 months ago

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New Collaboration (Twice NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Mina Myoi x Sub!Male Reader

Tags: 4.5k words, age-gap, multiple creampies, possible breeding/impreg

While at a popular variety show, you found yourself backstage waiting for your cue. It was a chance for you to perform alongside your favorite artists and one of them was Mina from TWICE. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of adrenaline and nerves. You'd only seen her through watching other variety shows or managing to catch brief glimpses of her at awards shows. But there she was, standing amongst the other TWICE girls.

You could see the rest of them leave for the bathroom as Mina stayed behind to watch over their belongings and their cue. You decided that this was your moment to make the connection. You walked up to her, braving through your nerves and fear.

"Hey, I'm Y/N," you said, extending your hand to Mina. She looked up from her script, her eyes wide as she recognized you. She smiled warmly, shaking your hand. "Nice to meet you in person. I'm Mina. I've been following your debut for a while and I'm a huge fan of your work."

You smiled, your cheeks turning a bright red. Mina Myoi, popular idol from TWICE knows of your work? Your eyelids fluttered, slightly taken aback by her open admiration. "Y–You know about me? I'm so honoured! I'm such a big fan of you...r work with TWICE and MiSaMo!" Nice save.

Mina giggled at your obvious nervousness and the two of you began chatting. The topics ranged from the things you'd be doing on the show to what you think of the industry so far. The nerves set in as you realized how close you were to performing. You found yourself gradually moving closer to her. Mina appeared to be doing the same, her eyes locked onto yours, neither of you aware of the distance between you closing.

The sound of a bell ringing in the distance broke the trance, signaling that it was time for you to take the stage. You took a deep breath, glancing at Mina before giving her a confident nod. "Good luck," she whispered, a playful smile on her lips as the other TWICE girls returned to stand around her.

You gave her a nervous but thankful smile and sauntered off, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. As the show went on, you subtly glanced at Mina a few times, her beauty somehow shining through all eight other members. It was as if no one else existed for those very brief moments. You admired how she commanded the stage, the energy she radiated. The feeling only grew as you made your way backstage after your performances.

"You were amazing out there!" Mina congratulated, rushing over to you as soon as you were both backstage. She hugged you tightly, her scent enveloping you as she lifted you off the ground slightly. "I'm so proud of you."

You blushed, the sincerity in her eyes warming you from the inside out. As the other TWICE girls went to rest in the designated backstage room, Mina stayed with you. The two of you sat down in a secluded area and ended up chatting for hours.

Your heart swelled as you struggled to contain yourself. You got to, not only talk with your all–time favourite idol, but she hugged you really nice and tight too. As the night began to wind down, you found yourselves alone, the cast and crew dispersing to prepare for their next filming. That was when the topic of age differences came up naturally.

"So, you're, what, 19?" Mina asked with a playful grin. You nodded, chuckling at the surprise on her face. "And here I thought you were a little older. You're quite mature for your age."

"T–Thank you," you replied with a humble smile. "You're...?"

"The ripe age of 27," Mina said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at you. "But I guess it's the experience that counts, right?"

"27?! No way! I could've sworn you were my age," you teased before continuing, "but yeah, you could say that." You couldn't help but let your gaze linger on her face for a while. Such smooth skin... such pretty lips... You stared at her for a considerable amount of time before snapping out. "You've been in the industry a while, and I could learn a lot from you."

Mina's eyes sparkled, and she leaned in closer. "Anything you want to know, you just have to ask." Her lips grazed your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine as she whispered, "And sometimes lessons are best learned by doing."

The closeness between the two of you was undeniable, and the air around you felt heavy with tension. You subconsciously leaned towards her as she did the same. The scent of her perfume mingled with the lingering smoky scent of the stage, creating an intoxicating mix. You could feel your heart racing, the heat in your cheeks increasing, turning them red.

Mina's hand brushed against yours, and your eyes met, locked in a heated gaze. Both your lips were inches away from one another, something in you just wanted to pounce forward and claim her in a deep and passionate makeout. The weight of the moment was suffocating, yet exhilarating. The silence stretched, and the tension built, growing thicker by the second.

Just as your chest tightened, and it felt like your heart would pound right out of your chest, the sound of voices echoed through the backstage area, snapping you both out of your trance. Mina quickly leaned back back, the grin on her face replacing the intensity that had been there just moments before.

"Guess I better get going," she said, straightening her outfit. "The girls are gonna get cranky if I leave them for too long... but you've got a bright future ahead of you. I'm looking forward to seeing what you do next."

She gave you a final warm smile before she slipped away, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling with the encounter. The memory of Mina's voice, her touch, the intensity of those stolen moments would linger, pushing you to dream and fantasize about what could be. Your admiration for your favourite idol might have just developed into a full blown crush.

Months passed, and you found yourself 'crossing paths' with Mina at various events. Crossing paths in the sense that you'd steal brief glances at her while in a massive crowd. But each time, the lingering eye contact and flirtatious smiles sent your heart racing. You found yourself always glancing toward her, trying to catch a glimpse of her in between your own performances. There was something about her that drew you in, and you wondered if it was mutual.

After one of M Countdown's award shows, you found yourselves waiting backstage once again. The anticipation of the night's events, and the memories of your previous encounter, made your nerves skyrocket. Mina spotted you and walked over with a bright smile, separating herself from the rest of TWICE momentarily. Her confidence commanded the space around her.

"Oh my, you look amazing tonight," she complimented, her eyes looking you up and down before settling and on yours and never leaving. "It's been a while since we've seen each other. How have you been?"

"I've been doing pretty well," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "A little busy, but it's been great. How about you?"

Mina laughed softly. "Y'know, same old, same old. But I'm glad to see you doing well. You've got a lot of fans out there rooting for you."

"Likewise for you too. Hell, I'll always root for you... and TWICE... yeah."

Mina let out a sultry giggle as the two of you began chatting about various things, from the music you both enjoyed to the latest scandal in the industry. Mina's hand brushed against yours as she gestured, and a jolt shot through you, making you wish that contact would linger. You could feel the tension build between you, the air thick with unspoken desires.

"You know, we should do something together," Mina suggested, her voice soft and sultry. "A collaboration, maybe. I bet it would be amazing. Fans might like that as well, what do you think?"

"T–That would be incredible, I'd love to," you stammered, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Your eyes met hers, and the intensity was palpable. You could feel every nerve in your body tingling, as if electrified by her presence.

A few more comments were exchanged, small jokes shared, and the tension between the two of you grew. Mina leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I think I'll be staying up late tonight, and the girls are gonna be out... Want to join me?"

Your breath hitched, and you could only manage a nod, your mind reeling at the possibility. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and it felt like the world had slowed down, leaving the two of you to exist in a bubble.

"Excellent, I'll see you back here once the place has cleared up a little~"

The conversation ebbed away, replaced by the chaos and noise of the after–event. The weight of the moment hung in the air, heavy and thick, as Mina departed with a wink and a smile.

The night continued to unfold, and you found yourself seeking her out, unable to shake the pull she had on you. Your heart raced with anticipation as you waited for the event to come to a close, dying to deepen connection with her.

The event finally came to an end, and the guests began to disperse, leaving behind the echoes of their laughter and conversations. You met with Mina at the decided spot before she led you back to the hotel she was staying at. Her hand clasped yours as you walked through the empty halls.

"I think a collaboration between us could work perfectly," Mina said as she unlocked the door to her hotel room, gesturing for you to enter. "You have quite the unique sound, and I think our voices would mesh well together."

As you crossed the threshold, the room was dimly lit, the only light filtering in from the city skyline outside. Mina closed the door behind you, the quiet of the moment hanging in the air.

"Have a seat and we could talk about it. Could I get you anything to drink?" she suggested, motioning to the couch. You shook your head as you sat down, your heart thudding in your chest.

"So... what kind of vibe are you going for?" you asked, trying to keep your mind focused on the task at hand, the desire for her still palpable.

"Hmm... How about something that showcases both our styles," Mina replied, taking a seat beside you. "Maybe, a mix of hip–hop and R&B. The lyrics could focus on breaking free from societal expectations and finding one's true self. The chorus should be catchy yet poignant, with a hard–hitting beat."

The two of you continued to discuss ideas, concepts, and possible producers for the collaboration. The conversation flowed effortlessly, your minds mingling as easily as your bodies seemed to desire. As you talked, Mina's hand crept closer to yours, her fingers brushing against yours every now and then.

"Okay! Now that that's settled, I'm really excited to get started on this," you said, the passion in your voice reflecting your feelings for the project, as well as the woman beside you.

"Me too," Mina replied, her voice low and sultry. "Let's celebrate the start of our collaboration~"

Her hand found yours and her thumb began to trace circles on the back of your hand, the contact both calming and arousing. You could feel the heat radiating from her touch as she leaned in, her lips inches from yours. Your eyes were locked on her lips... something about them looked so... delicious...

"To new beginnings," she whispered before pressing her lips to yours. The kiss was soft, tender, and as it deepened, it grew more intense. Mina's hand traveled up your arm, her fingers lightly brushing against your neck.

You could feel her breasts pressing against your chest as she climbed atop you, the heat of her body igniting a fire within you. As the kiss continued, her hand slid under your shirt, tracing gentle circles on your skin. The pleasure from her touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel your body responding to her touch, your arousal growing with each passing moment.

"Are you ready for our next chapter?" Mina asked, her breath hot against your ear as she nibbled on your lobe.

Your body ached for more, more of this stunning older woman you've admired for so long. The beginning of this new chapter had you both on the edge, ready to embark on a journey of passion and collaboration.

Nodding, you surrendered yourself to the moment, your body eagerly responding to Mina's touch. She guided your hand to her breast, letting you feel her firmness through her top. Her nipple hardened against your touch, the silky texture of her shirt doing little to dampen the sensations.

"Mhmm, just like that," Mina moaned softly, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. She peeled it away, her eyes fixated on your body as she revealed it to her.

The heat between the two of you grew, and Mina's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles that sent shivers through your spine. You let out a soft moan, your body arching into her touch, the need for more becoming almost unbearable.

"So responsive," Mina whispered, her voice laced with desire as she began to unbutton your pants, her nimble fingers sliding beneath the waistband.

"God– fuck, Mina–" you let out a loud moan as her hand found you, her touch adding fuel to the fire already burning bright within you. She began to stroke you through your underwear, her thumb teasing the tip. The rhythm of her strokes increased, and you found yourself writhing beneath her touch, unable to contain your pleasure.

"Mina..." you groaned, your voice thick with arousal. "I want more..."

With a wicked smile, Mina stood up, pulling you with her. She guided you to the bed, her hand stilling on your chest as she undressed. The sight of her slowly freeing from her clothes was intoxicating, and you let out a low, appreciative moan.

"Mina... The woman that you are..." you exhaled, your voice pleading.

"Patience, my dear," she said, her voice sultry and full of promise. "I have a feeling our collaboration will be a hit."

With that, she climbed onto the bed, leaving you hanging, eager for more. The anticipation and the teasing had you on the edge, desperate for the physical expression of your newfound partnership.

Mina laid herself down on the bed, her body twisting and turning ever so slightly, making your cock visibly harder and harder each second. She seductively sat up and beckoned you with her finger, inviting you closer. You climbed onto the bed next to her, your eyes taking in the sight that is Mina Myoi.

"Come here, baby," Mina whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "Let's make some music together."

You couldn't resist, moving closer, and before long, your lips met hers once more, the kiss deepening, your tongues entwining. Mina's hand found its way to your now hard erection, gripping it firmly, her thumb gliding over the head.

"Oh, Y/N, you're such a good boy. You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" she purred, her voice a mix of lust and admiration. "I can't wait to feel you inside me."

You fumbled with your pants, quickly shedding them and your underwear. The anticipation built, and you found yourself hovering over her, your cock at the entrance of her wetness. Mina's legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Please, I need you– Mommy Mina needs you, baby," she moaned, the vulnerability and desire in her voice sending shivers down your spine.

Slowly, you began to enter her, the tight warmth enveloping you. Mina's moans grew louder, filling the room. The age gap between the two of you seemed to melt away, replaced by the shared experience of lust and desire. Within seconds, you had bottomed her out.

"Fuck– I didn't think you'd be this big, Y/N. I can feel your cock throbbing inside me," she cried out, her nails digging into your back. "Harder!"

You complied, beginning to thrust into her, the rhythm growing more intense as you both found your pace. You could feel the slick wetness enveloping you, the pleasure building with each movement. Mina's moans grew louder, her head thrown back, her body arching to meet your thrusts.

"Oh, Y/N, baby, you feel so good," Mina moaned, her voice thick with lust. "You're so hard... So deep... Ravage my pussy, baby~"

Her hands found your chest, fingers tracing circles, eliciting a shiver from your spine. She began to rock her hips, her movements rough and desperate. But after a while, she made you slow down. It was as if she was savoring the sensation, prolonging the inevitable.

"Mina, you feel amazing," you groaned, your voice rough with desire. "I–I need more of you."

Mina's movements grew more urgent, her hips slamming back against yours. You could feel your own body responding, the pleasure building once more.

"God, Y/N, I'm close... Don't stop, Y/N," she urged, her voice breathless. "Give it to me."

Mina's body shuddered against yours, the intensity building between you both. Her movements grew more frenzied, her moans more desperate. You could feel the pressure inside you, the need to release, to fill her, to claim her as your own.

"Y/N– gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... I'm so close," Mina cried out, her voice thick with lust.

You could feel her pussy tightening around you, squeezing every inch of your length, spurring you on, driving you closer to the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies connecting, the wet slap of skin against skin, the cries of pleasure.

"Mina, I can't hold back," you groaned, your voice thick with desire.

Mina's nails dug into your back, her body arching, inviting you to take her to the precipice.

"Y/N, give it to me, fill me up," she urged, her voice thick with need.

With a final, powerful thrust, you let go, your release spilling into her, the pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Mina's body followed, her own climax hitting her like a freight train, her body convulsing, her release coating your length.

"Oh, Y/N, yes, I'm cumming– Y/N! FUCK!" she cried out, her body arching, her nails digging into your back some more. "Fuck, yes, that feels so good."

The two of you clung to each other, your bodies trembling, the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Mina's breathing grew heavy, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

"That was... wow," she panted, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You found yourself wrapped in her embrace, the two of you still joined, the sweat glistening on both your bodies. Mina's hand found your cheek, her thumb brushing away a droplet of sweat.

"Y/N... that was amazing," she breathed, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. "...but I need more. Mommy Mina needs more~"

Before you could even catch your breath, Mina rolled you onto your back, her body straddling yours. She began to grind her hips against you, her wetness coating your still–hard cock. The sight of her, the feeling of her body against yours, sent shivers down your spine.

"I want to feel you all night," Mina purred, her voice dripping with lust. "You're going to breed me, baby. Make me a real mommy, alright?"

Her words sent an electric jolt through you, the idea of impregnating this woman, this idol, almost too much to bear. Mina positioned herself above you, her wetness enveloping your cock as she sank down onto you.

"You're so big for me, baby... I'm so full," she moaned, her breasts swaying above you as she began to ride you leisurely, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Mina–" you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "Please, don't stop–"

Mina's hips began to move faster, her moans growing louder, filling the room. You could feel the pleasure building once more, the thrill of being at her mercy intoxicating.

"Mina, I'm so close... Fuck– you're so tight," you warned, your body tensing with anticipation.

"Cum for me, Y/N," she ordered, her voice a mix of desire and command. "Give it to me. Fill me to the brim."

You couldn't resist, the order sending you over the edge. Your hips bucked against her, the pleasure cascading through you as you came once more, filling her even more deeply than before.

"M–MINA~!" you cried out, your body trembling. As you both came down from the high, Mina's body shuddered, releasing her own pleasure in waves. Her juices coated your cock, the warmth and tightness of her pussy as she came almost overwhelming. You could feel her squeezing you, milking your cock as she rode out her orgasm.

"Oh god, you're incredible..." Mina panted, her eyes locked with yours, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

"Mina... I... mmf..." you whispered, your own breath coming in ragged pants.

But before you could fully recover, Mina's hand found your softening cock, stroking you gently until it began to harden once more. Her eyes were filled with lust, the desire for more evident in every line of her body.

"You're not done with me yet, are you?" she purred, the promise of more in her voice.

You exhaustedly shook your head, your cock returning to its hardened stature. Mina took the lead, turning over, her body arching, inviting you to take her from behind.

"Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her voice a mix of lust and desire. "Fuck me like the breeding stallion you are."

You obeyed, positioning yourself behind her, your cock meeting her wet entrance once more. Mina's nails dug into the sheets as you began to thrust into her from behind, the new angle setting off a fresh wave of pleasure.

"Oh god, yessss~ Y/N, you feel so good... fuck me... impregnate me," Mina moaned, her voice thick with lust.

Her words sent shivers down your spine, the taboo nature of the idea driving you wild. The thought of breeding Mina, this stunning woman, filled you with a primal drive.

"Mina, I'm going to cum again–" you warned, your voice thick with pleasure as you began to thrust harder, faster.

Mina's moans grew louder, more desperate. "Cum inside me, baby. Anhh... Fill mommy up~"

You didn't need any further encouragement. Your thrusts grew more frenzied, the pleasure building once more. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies connecting, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the cries of pleasure.

"Oh, god, Mina–!" you cried out, your body trembling as you poured yourself into her once more.

As your release filled her, Mina's body shuddered, her own pleasure peaking, the waves of orgasm washing over her.

"Oh, Y/N, baby, yes... Y/N, you're going to make me a mommy, aren't you? I can feel it in every thrust. I'm all yours, baby~ Take me." she cried out, her body arching as she came.

"You're mine," she whispered, her body still straddling yours. "And I'm yours..."

"But I want more," she continued, her voice thick with lust. "I'm not done with you yet, Y/N."

Mina disentangled herself from your embrace, her eyes filled with desire as she shifted to straddle you, sitting on your lap. Her hands roamed over your chest, her lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You could taste the lingering sweetness of their previous lovemaking, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want you inside me again, Y/N," Mina breathed, her voice heavy with lust.

You were so obviously drained and tired... But Mina Myoi is asking YOU for a god–knows–what round... You'd be insane to turn that down... You helped her lower herself back onto your cock, the familiar warmth enveloping you as she took you in. This time, Mina chose a more sensual pace, rocking her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard as they brushed against your chest.

"Oh, Y/N, you feel so good– Just like that–" she moaned, her voice thick with desire. "Your cock is perfect."

Mina leaned forward, trailing kisses along your jawline, her lips finding your earlobe, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. The sensation only served to heighten the pleasure of her movements.

"I want to feel you deep inside me, Y/N. Breed me like the wild animal you are. Bottom. Me. Out."

The words sent a jolt through you, the primal desire to claim her as your own pulsing through your veins. You reached up, grabbing Mina's hips, helping you both find a faster, more vigorous pace.

"Mina, I... I'm getting close again," you warned, your breath coming in ragged pants.

Mina's moans grew louder, her body arching with each thrust. "Don't stop, Y/N. Fill me up. Knock me up, baby~"

You couldn't hold back any longer. Your thrusts grew more urgent, the pleasure building once more. Mina's nails dug into your chest as her own climax approached.

"Oh, god, Y/N, I'm... I'm cumming– I'M CUMMING~!" she cried out, her body tensing, her pussy tightening around you as her release washed over her.

You couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, you bottomed her out once more as you proceeded to cum inside her, the sensation of flooding her to the brim spurring you on.

"Oh fuck– Mina–!" you cried out, your body trembling.

The two of you clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks of your pleasure. Mina collapsed against your chest as you flopped backwards onto the bed. Her breathing was heavy, her body still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

"Let's just lay here, Y/N," she whispered, her hand reaching up to caress your cheek. "Let's just enjoy each other for now... You made Mommy Mina very happy today..."

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a hot, passionate makeout, savoring the taste of each other's lips.

As the two of you lay entwined, sweat glistening on your bodies, your hearts beating in unison. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of your breathing, the aftermath of your passionate encounter settling around you. And in that moment, there was nothing but the two of you, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[ New Collaboration Pt. 1 – See Pt. 2 ]

#mina x male reader #mina smut #kpop smut #twice smut #twice x male reader #male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male! reader #male!reader #x male!reader #male reader smut #x male smut #idol x male reader #female idol smut

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girlsworldillusion · 7 months ago

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I'd let the world burn for you

•

Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.

Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.

word count: 6k

There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.

English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

Good reading!

He can taste vomit in his esophagus.

Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.

The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.

Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.

He can't forget.

It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.

The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.

Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.

He is a hypocrite and he knows it.

Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.

He can't even dare deny liking it all.

When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).

It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.

He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.

At least until it's all over.

When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.

He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.

Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.

Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.

"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”

Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.

His sweet wife.

He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?

He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.

You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.

You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.

Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.

It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.

Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.

But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?

You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.

He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.

At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.

He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.

Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.

If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.

Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.

He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?

Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.

You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?

He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.

"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.

You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.

A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.

"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."

He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.

It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.

“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."

The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.

It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.

But he can't stop.

Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.

You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"

"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.

Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.

So beautiful.

So pure.

From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.

As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.

He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.

Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.

You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.

Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.

A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.

Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”

And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.

Anything except being without you.

With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.

You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.

He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.

“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"

He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.

He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.

"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.

You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.

Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.

He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.

He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.

He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.

He will do it all.

He has done it in the past, many times.

Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.

“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.

He growls at your plea.

“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”

Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.

"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”

He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.

And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.

"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.

You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.

But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.

You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.

You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.

Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.

Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.

Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.

"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.

A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.

"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.

Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.

And it's because of you.

Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."

Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond x fem!reader #dance of the dragons #aemond smut

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venusbyline · 7 days ago

Text

Treatment ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 29, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Spencer Reid x college student!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: praise kink

— summary: Spencer needs to take out the frustrations of his professional life during sex with you, his girlfriend and his favorite student.

— word count: 1.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 29th day, female!reader, girlfriend!reader, professor!Reid, praise kink, aftercare, vaginal sex, rough sex, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, body worship, hair-pulling, butt slapping, biting, teacher-student relationship (NO UNDERAGE), secret relationship, dumbification, squirting, dacryphilia, creampie, cum dripping, subspace, fluffy ending, table sex, rough kissing, soft!Reid, dom!Reid, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer arrived at university stressed after a week solving an important case at the BAU, you knew he would need to take out all his frustration with you on sex. It was no longer news to the two of you how high Spencer's sex drive became after dealing with maniacal Unsubs, especially when he had to put up with so many students who seemed to have a below average IQ inside his classroom.

The opportunity to teach subjects focused on criminology, sociology and psychoanalysis had been incredible at first, but started increasingly unbearable as the final exams weeks approached. He was trying to get his students used to his assessment method little by little, giving them short and quick tests that contained only some topics that would be included in the final exams.

However, with each test he corrected, he cursed a different teenager. Spencer could barely read the answers without wanting to rip his eyes out of their eye sockets or tear his own skin. Maybe most of the students were really stupid and irresponsible, or maybe he was being very demanding due to the stress he was going through with the latest criminal case. After all, he could not judge someone's intelligence as truly inferior just because he had a real genius brain.

When Spencer saw that he would not be able to concentrate on correcting the tests, he huffed and threw randomly the pile of papers on his table, taking out his phone and sending an urgent text to you, his favorite student and secret girlfriend too.

Even though you were busy in the library studying for another professor's classes, you were more than a little eager when you saw the text from Spencer, or rather Doctor Reid, demanding your presence in his office immediately. You knew what was coming as soon as you had caught a glimpse of him walking through campus hallways earlier that day. He was stressed. And if Spencer was stressed, that meant you would suffer the consequences and be very rewarded later.

"T-This fucking good pussy!" Spencer growled, gripping your waist tighter, giving your ass a slap that made you roll your eyes in pleasure as he moved his hips deeper, more brutally, almost as if he wanted to break you into two parts.

You whimpered when the head of his cock almost hit your cervix, making you see stars. "S-Spencie!"

Your trembling moan came along with a sob, your legs shaking as you gripped the edge of his marble table, trying to steady yourself with each thrust, even though your legs were so weak that you were sure all the paperwork would fall to the floor soon. "You're doing so well, darling. Taking my thick cock inside you like a good girl..." He growled, lowering himself until his chest was against your back, biting your shoulder uncovered by the neckline of your dress. "My best student. The only one smart enough to be admitted to this stupid university."

You knew he was overreacting, but that did not stop you from smiling between moans, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter while he praised you, fingers pressing the soft flesh of your ass and his lips whispering how smart and hot you were. His favorite. You would always be his favorite student.

Spencer pulled you by your hair, until you were standing as he held himself still inside you, grabbing your chin for a sloppy and aggressive kiss. His free hand pulled just one of your legs up onto the table, the new position making him hit deeper inside your tight pussy. "Fuck... You have no idea how much I needed this." Spencer moaned, taking advantage of the fact that you understood the angle he wanted to fuck you at and he held your hips to help you keep it that way. "I love your little pussy crushing me like that. So tight, even when I'm about to fill you with my cum. You want that, darling? Going around campus with my cum running down your thighs? For everyone to know that you're the best student ever?”

You did not answer your boyfriend, as you were too busy feeling your orgasm coming. Spencer's eyes rolled back as your ass began to bounce faster by the second and you started to moan loudly, forcing him to release your chin to cover your mouth. "Shhh, little girl... You don't want people to know that you're getting special treatment from your professor, don't you, darling? You want them to know how much I love fucking your pussy until you're a whining mess?"

You shook your head immediately, muffled sounds escaping when Spencer licked your neck, continuing to whispering and dirty talking to you, the fucking starting to get more intense after you climaxed and your hole started to get creamy due his pre-cum and your juices.

Noticing how your body began to shake more than normal and your walls were spasming, Spencer let go of your hips only to finger your clit, rubbing it so roughly that you screamed into his palm and finally came again, followed by the transparent liquid squirting from your pussy while Spencer continued fucking you. He stimulated your clit until he also was cumming, moaning in an almost guttural way as he watched the scene of you crying out and squirting, feeling you milking his cock until the last drop.

Spencer sighed at the overstimulation, withdrawing himself from you, causing you to groan in pain and melancholy at the sudden emptiness. "It's okay, darling. You were so good, you're always so good to me... my good girl." Spencer whispered, picking you up to lay you down on the table. It was not the most comfortable place possible for the aftercare, but both of you knew it was the most that having sex hidden in your university professor's office could offer you. He stroked your hair, taking a tissue from his briefcase so he could wipe off the remnants of his cum running down your thighs. He gave you a soft smile because you reflexively tried to pull yourself away, your mind still trapped into the subspace. "It's just me, darling. You're okay. I just need to clean you up now. Is that okay, my girl?"

You nodded weakly and also a little confused, low but less scared whimpers coming from your lips. Spencer was careful not to hurt your already so sensitive and sore core. "My beautiful little girl. You're so perfect, darling. I'm so proud of you..." You smiled with your eyes closed, hearing his husky but loving voice.

Spencer took charge of taking care of you during that moment, placing a soft kiss on your temple, putting your panties back on and fixing your dress. Spencer caressed your head, admiring your weak and sleepy form, trying his best to hold back the giggle that wanted to escape as he noticed that the papers containing his students' tests were damp with random drops from your sudden squirt.

He would have to think about some convincing explanation to give to the university president regarding the stains on those papers. However, for now, the only thing Spencer would do was make sure you were physically and emotionally fine again so both of you could return to your proper responsibilities when the next class started.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

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backinmyphase · 13 days ago

Text

Not my mother

Synopsis: As Gojo Satoru's wife you are most of the time alone at home and you have made your peace with that. However a visit from your mother in law results in a pleasant surprise. Well, not for him as he meets your mother.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 4300 words Masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu Clans suck, reader's mom is a warning alone, talking about drugging a person, dark implications

A/n: Sorry for the long wait again! This chapter just seemed especially hard to write :') As usual just say if you want to be tagged and feel free to comment any thoughts regarding this post, it always makes my day. Enjoy!

"Satoru, do you like your family?"

Once in a while there are thoughts that pop up in your head, questions about your husband, that you are just slipping out of your mouth. After all you two didn't really have much time together. Question because of time away from him. So much time.

You sit with him at the breakfast table, the big table now not used anymore, just a little one where you sit opposite of each other. Now you can fully see how he is taken by surprise. How his eyebrows rise. And how his lips...

In the last days you really had strange thoughts.

"Do you?"

You stopped eating for a second, now realizing what kind of question that is. Someone else would think the answer had to be obvious. But when your family is a Clan it seems so strange to talk about it as 'family'.

"I... Do. I think." your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

He looked at you with these eyes that seemed to look right through you. And even though you didn't think you were lying, you didn't know if it was the truth either.

Then he shrugged.

"If I'm being honest, I don't really. I don't really see them as family. They are just people I'm representing." he chews for a bit, but then stops. "You know, they didn't treat me as family either. So I guess I never saw them as it."

He looked up with an almost apologetic look. "Too cold?"

"What? No!" you shook your head. "I'm the one asking. I'm happy with the honest answer."

"And you know," you fidgeted with your ring. The feeling of it cold, heavy. "I get what you mean. In fact I think you described my feelings really well."

He looked at you like always when he didn't really get what you meant but didn't want to ask. But this morning you dropped the topic of family as he had to go on missions and you... Had to get rid of your boredom with other ways.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"So I am free for half of the day?" Satoru couldn't believe as he heard the news from Yaga.

"Not really. There's just someone who requested a meeting with you. And you have to go Gojo, I don't want to hear any excuses." Yaga had still that tone like when Gojo was his student. And somehow it was still working.

"Yeah, yeah. When is it?"

"Just read the formula I gave you!" he sighed. "It's in half an hour."

"Okay, okay." Satoru looked back at the formula Yaga gave him, wondering why he had to go to their house of this person for a meeting they requested, but sure.

He was slightly annoyed he couldn't just go home to you.

Since last week the only thing on his mind when he went on missions was how and when he got back to his wife. Even though he wished he had more free time with you, it was calming to just have a regular evening talk with you.

No pressure, no higher-ups. Just talking.

You had such a pretty smile and he was such an idiot to make you not smile so freely before. He couldn't believe how easily you have forgiven him. Because he sure hasn't. Everytime he saw you sleep on the couch when he came back he felt bad. Like he was still not doing enough.

Since when did he feel like he wasn't doing enough?

He still had to learn so much about you. How to make you laugh regularly and what was your favorite food. And how not to make you angry or sad. Because that was something he wanted to avoid by all costs.

He looked at the address and it did seem familiar. But he didn't remember from where. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something was telling him that this seemed like an obvious trap.

But he didn't want to piss of his old teacher.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The Gojo mansion was warming up to you. Even though it was often still empty and cold, you did find the garden and library endearing.

But you missed Satoru.

Without him this house still didn't feel like home, no matter how many books you started to read or how many facts Hina told you about the plants in the garden.

Whenever he came back in the evening the time was always passing so fast. Sometimes you just wanted to have a new honeymoon without the pressure. Just him and time. After all, you never went to that restaurant.

But wishing and thinking of what if's wasn't a good pass of the time. You still had to build your own life.

Oftentimes you went into the kitchen to watch the work of the chefs and chat with them, but today you didn't feel like it. You didn't want to admit it but you were bored.

The hours alone at home were eating you up. When you distracted yourself from your anxious thoughts regarding the Clan matter, the boredom came. Maybe you were just not cut out to be a stay at home wife. Or maybe you grew too lazy. Oh, what would your mother say when she would see you complaining? She would eat you up.

You strolled through the mansion alone, wondering again why the big house was so empty. No old pictures of Gojo or anything like that. Why?

And as you went to the garden, you couldn't help but sigh at your lack of tasks and-

"Of course he didn't get a gardener! Even though I have told him for months! Always just a little boy with too much-"

You couldn't move as you looked at the woman who sat between the lilies. Speechless because the last time you saw her was on your wedding day as your mother ranted about her and her son.

Mrs. Gojo had such a strong presence.

Even when she was just ranting about her son.

"Oh my!" her eyes lit up as she spotted you. And even though they didn't have the color of the ones your husband had, they had the same light and crinkle when they were excited.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" she got up, cleared her very expensive looking dress and slowly strutted towards to you. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!"

"Pleasure meeting you again." you bowed your head a bit, you still had to be careful in the presence of your mother in law. "But I didn't know you would visit today Mrs. Gojo?"

"Oh please drop the formals!" she shook her head and for the first time she really smiled. Like a real sincere smile. "We are both Mrs. Gojo now, aren't we? You can call me Ayaka."

"If you say so Mrs- I mean Ayaka." she nodded approvingly while having an amused glint in her eyes. "Ayaka, I wasn't informed you would come to visit. Is there a something you want to discuss with Satoru? If so he is at work-"

She laughed and shook her head. "Oh I know don't worry. I'm not here for him. I'm tending the garden. Once in a month I come here to make sure the Gojo garden isn't forgotten. The boy seemed to forget his mother the moment she wasn't living here anymore."

"Oh." now as she mentioned it, you never saw anyone in the garden tending the flowers before. You just assumed there was someone who did it, because... Well it was Gojo's garden.

"Do you like it?" Your mother in law pointed at the lila flowers that were blooming in the center of all the flowers. "I planted those Hydrangeas at your wedding day. They seem to bloom very well."

"Oh, yeah. They are very beautiful." It was calming to watch those flowers dance in the wind.

"Do you have fresh tea?" Gojo's mother held her head high, her hands intertwined at waist height as she looked at you. "I would like to drink one with you."

Perplexed you blinked at her. "I think we do. Is there a special occasion?"

"Oh, you know." she gently took your arm, intertwining it with her own as she took steady steps towards the mansion. "I just want to talk with my daughter in law about her and her husband."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The mansion, which had the address, wasn't the biggest. But it was big enough Satoru knew it had to be of a Clan.

Now, Meetings with other Clans weren't unusual. In fact they were a remaining part of his childhood. But most of the time the Clan came to him and it was planned weeks prior.

There were no plants outside, no decorations.

Satoru walked with slow, steady steps. He couldn't afford to be caught of guard. And even though this was just a meeting he felt cursed energy from somewhere in the mansion.

He rang and waited.

One. Two. Three.

Should he ring again? Or should he just go home to you-

A maid opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw him. "Gojo Satoru?"

"Yeah?" what was with that reaction? "I was ordered here for a meeting." But in reality no one should order him around-

"Oh yes. But the lady of the house is busy right now." she opened the door far enough for him to step inside. "Let me show you the room of the meeting and serve you tea while you wait."

He didn't want to be here. It felt like a bad horror movie and his gut told him he should tell Yaga that he couldn't attend such meetings. But he didn't want another higher-up at his doorstep, so he did step in.

The mansion had a couple of pictures. People he didn't know looking at him with such stone cold faces. Who would want that kind of picture?

The hallway was long, multiple doors were passed as he followed the maid.

And then there was that door.

He knew. There was the cursed energy he felt. It wasn't a normal amount. It had such a presence, it had to be a curse of some sort. Or a curse user.

No matter what, his gut wanted him to rip the door open and end it.

"Mr. Gojo?" the maid wasn't pleased he stopped in his tracks. No, in fact she looked a bit frightened. "The appointment room is a couple doors down there."

"Is it?" he looked at the wooden door before him and wondered what this 'lady' wanted from him. And why she had this much cursed energy in one of her rooms.

"Then let's keep going."

It wasn't for long, when he followed the maid into a small room. It had a table ready with cups.

"I will serve tea as you are waiting." the maid was already hurrying to get out.

"Wait! I don't need tea right now." she stopped at the doorframe and looked at him.

And she had that eerily smile. "But my lady insists."

With that she turned around and left him alone. What in the world was that? This whole thing was becoming more and more weird with the second he spend here. But he did sat down at the table.

However he didn't touch the tea that was him served.

The room he was in was kinda spooky. It didn't have anything precisely unusual in it, but the atmosphere was killing him.

There were medals and certificates on the walls. Some flowers were put underneath like it was meant to show pride. But if they would really be proud there wouldn't be any dust on these highly things.

He didn't wait for long. But maybe that wouldn't have been so bad.

The door opened and an older woman stepped in, which seemed familiar. Her stern look and cold gaze gave him a shiver. She stepped at the table and sat down on the opposite of him.

"Apologies for my late appearance." she fetched herself a cup of tea. Her cup was decorated with gold which simmered in the light. But behind that shimmer he didn't miss the side eye she gave him. "I wasn't expecting you following an invite."

"What is that supposed to mean?" who did this woman think she was? He was still Satoru Gojo. And normally people respected him for that.

She took a long sip and somehow that made him shut up. She placed her cup carefully on the table and smiled at him. But something about that smile made him uneasy. "You haven't touched your tea, have you Mr. Gojo?"

"No, I haven't." he glanced at his untouched cup. It wasn't as fancy as hers.

"Is the cup offending you?" she seemed to have followed his glance. "If it is, my apologies but in one of our last meetings with the Gojo Clan one of our family cups has been destroyed. Forgive me for being hesitant to give one to the likes of you again."

Oh, this woman knew how to piss someone of. "In one of the last meetings with the Gojo Clan? I can't remember such a meeting."

At that she smiled fully while her eyes somehow became more icy. "You can't, can't you?"

Something wasn't adding up. Satoru had to be at every meeting his Clan had. He was the head of the Clan for a reason. Did he skip a meeting? But then he had to catch up the meeting. So what was he forgetting?

He felt her gaze on him as he tried to remember any solution to this. She was smiling as she watched him frown.

"The meetings with the Gojo Clan were rather a success, you know? I had hoped to strengthen the relationship of our Clans." she took another sip. "Well, it is still left to be desired."

"I'm sorry," he didn't want to dance around the question any longer. This woman was obviously looking down on him right now and he couldn't stand it. And even though he couldn't place a name to the face, it seemed so strangely familiar. "But have we met before?"

She placed her cup on the table with force. "Well, we did see each other on a rather big occasion, but I am not mad at you for forgetting me."

Something in the room shifted as she stood up and opened the door again. "Shihiro? Our guest hasn't touched his tea. Could you bring another cup and fresh tea, please?"

He heard a muffled voice agreeing and steps running away from the room. "I really don't need any tea."

She sat down again carefully while making sure not to knock something over. "But it is our duty and our sign for hospitality! I insist."

And just like that the tea inside his cup was warm again. His gut was killing him, but under her gaze he did take a small sip out of the cup of tea.

It tasted... Bitter.

"Well, you are probably wondering why I have called you here." she looked slightly satisfied. And for the first time he seemed to remember this woman.

She was the one who gave him that icy look at his wedding. She was the one sawing him leave. The one who tsked at his doing and only raised an eyebrow as he saw her.

"I wanted to talk with my son in law about his wife and their marriage."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"Lovely weather, isn't it?"

She was right. The sun was shining and the wind was not too strong. While sitting here on the balcony, you had an amazing view of the garden from above.

"Yeah it is." The tea was a bit warmer and sweeter than the tea you knew and normally drank. You liked it.

Ayaka had talked with the cooks in the kitchen, you didn't know about what but you heard much laughter. Their voices seemed so much louder than before, the whole estate so much more lively with her here.

"I always spent my time in the garden and kitchen when I lived here, you know?" she sighed dreamily. "Especially with that weather."

Her posture was screaming authority. Elegance and experience. However her arms weren't tense, they seemed like they were open.

"Do you like it here?"

There it was. You were ready for this question, ready to calm all her possible worries.

"I do. I'm glad I was so lucky to marry Sat-"

She chuckled and shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Do you like it here?"

She seemed amused at your dumbfounded face. You watched as she took another sip. You looked at the beautiful garden which had so many flowers you adored every day. Hina, who was bringing another teapot with fresh tea.

"I do." carefully, you took your teacup. "It's calming here."

She was watching you as you took another sip. Her small smile never leaving. She leaned a bit forward, her arms bow crossed but somehow still seemed open.

"But.." you placed the teacup on the table. "It's also too calm sometimes."

Hesitant you looked at the older woman sitting in front of you. "Do you know what I mean?"

A pleasant breeze surprised you, the teacups shaking a bit. Ayaka leaned now slowly back again, in her hand her teacup.

"When Satoru was little.." her eyes were locked on her tea. "He always wanted to go outside. He didn't like the mansion, the kitchen or the garden. After he was born I was always kept moving."

She sighed and closed her eyes. She looked like one of these stone statures which were built to admire.

"I didn't want to have it any other way."

There was a silence which followed her words, embracing you and calming your senses.

"I still love to tend the garden and chat in the kitchen. But something inside me was really devastated when my little boy started to leave me alone."

There was something inside her voice. Something that made you feel with her.

"Do you like him?"

You couldn't help but grip your teacup stronger. "He is my husband."

She opened her eyes again, looking at you with such tenderness. "He is."

Your mouth seemed so dry. You sipped on the teacup again hoping it would also give you words to use. But it didn't.

"My marriage was also arranged, you know?" she slightly tilted her head. "The Gojo Clan was trying for decades to get another six eyes and infinity user. That's why my husband and I married."

She fetched herself fresh tea and tried to cool it down. "Our wedding was big. The honeymoon successful and we got the perfect child. Well in the book." she chuckled a bit. "But I never liked my husband."

"He was my acquaintance, nothing more."

She filled your cup too, watching you and waiting for you to answer.

"You were right." you took your teacup again, a small smile stole itself onto your face. "In our first meeting."

She smiled and laughed quietly.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"I wasn't informed that my mother in law wanted to speak to me." Satoru never felt so tense before. His hands gripping at each other for dear life. "I was being told that just someone wanted a meeting."

"Yeah, after all I wasn't sure you would even show up." this woman seemed so smug just by simply taking a sip, it drove him mad.

That was your mother.

Oh, he wanted to say so much to her. He had read what this woman had written to you. He had seen how you had sobbed in your sleep and whispered her name. Begging her to listen and stop.

But he didn't want her to go after you for anything he said. You still seemed to be so reliable on your mother.

"What do you want?" he tried to sound as polite as possible, he really did but there was just something that made him see red when he looked at her. Made him see your exhausted face.

She placed her teacup on the table again, her face now with a frown. "Well, my dear son in law," she straightened her position. "It has come to my understanding that you have still not consumed with your wife."

His mouth dried out by the second her words left hers. He couldn't believe how she could just sit there and say-

"Do you feel disgusted by her?"

And mean it unironically.

He couldn't move, just stare at this woman before him. He gripped his teacup realizing his tea was cold again, since he hadn't touched it since his first sip.

She shook her head, her face now looking at him disapproving. "Even if you did, there are solutions for it. I know my daughter isn't the brightest diamond in the jewelry box, but she knows that she should fulfill her duties as your wife."

She took another sip. "There are... Ways to make you feel more attracted to her."

"Stop talking." his teeth had started to grit.

She tsked at him. "I'm just suggesting ways to make this arrangement work. As her mother that is my duty."

"I don't care." he shook his head. "I don't care that you are her mother."

There was no politeness left in his voice. He couldn't bring himself for even a little bit.

"I forbid you from talking about my wife like that."

Her body stiffened, just slightly but enough for him to catch it. She inspected him, her look now cautious. "How dare you-"

She broke off. Her eyes lit up from realization. And then she smiled that eerily smile again.

"I see." she chuckled. A shiver went down his spine. "Does she not want to consume?"

"If so there is the same solution and I could talk with her." she took another loud sip. Her body now completely relaxed as if she wasn't talking about...

"Are you..." he couldn't believe this woman. "Are you seriously suggesting to drug my wife?"

She stared at him for a couple of seconds as if she was taken back by his reaction. Then she smiled again. "She would understand, I'm sure. Anything for the heir."

He stood up. This room, this floor felt like it was burning. No, like he was burning. His infinity unsteady as he was slightly shaking.

"The 'heir' doesn't matter to you. Whatever we are doing doesn't matter to you." he tried to remain a calm voice. "You can drink this bitter tea for the rest of your life for all I care. But don't talk about my wife as if she is just a tool."

She looked up at him, her smile now falling at his words. "I am trying to make this arrangement work, for my daughter-"

"Well, you don't talk about her as if she was your daughter." a scoff left his lips. "Who would suggest drugging their own daughter?"

She stood up. Her eyes now wide and staring at him while her lips were a thin line. "You don't know what a wife has to sacrifice, boy."

"What a mother has to sacrifice."

This woman before him was shaking. But not because of fear he knew that. He just couldn't understand how she was ticking, how a human would say such things.

"Shikabane?" a male voice interrupted the cold atmosphere in the room. The call wasn't loud but still very demanding.

"Coming!" his mother in law called back, her tense shoulders now falling.

She looked at him with many emotions, he could see it in her eyes. But one stuck out. Envy.

"Get out of my house, Satoru Gojo."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It was later than usual.

You didn't remember much, since you fell asleep on the couch in the living room shortly after Ayaka left.

She was a nice lady. The conversation with her lasted long into the afternoon, maybe even a bit into the evening. She suggested to come often for a cup of tea and you agreed.

But only if you were informed a couple of days prior.

It was much later than usual. You had slept two to three hours since she left and the kitchen was already closed.

You should go into your room and rest. But you didn't. Because you still wanted to see him.

Your legs were heavy but you still got up and made your way into the garden.

It was cold since it was probably almost night. But it was also refreshing. And under the moonlight the flowers shone in a new kind of way.

Yesterday you wouldn't have sat down on the ground next to these flowers, since you were always told that wasn't how a lady should behave. But today it felt like breathing to just sit down and admire those blooming stars up close.

A breeze made you shiver but it somehow also felt good. Alive.

You looked around, the plants around you dancing in the wind.

Till your gaze fell on him.

He was standing at the door. Leaning on the doorframe while his look remained on you. His arms crossed and a small smile on his lips.

"Are you not cold?" He had that warm look which made you smile back at him.

"I am." You stood up again, making your way towards him. "But I am also really warm."

He shook his head with resignation but still a smile. "Sometimes I can't believe how you... Endure so much."

As you stood before him and caught that uncertainty in his eyes, you thought that maybe this wasn't about coldness.

"Satoru are you okay?"

His smile got a bit smaller. His normally so tall and strong frame seemed out of glass. You were scared to come any closer.

And then he embraced you.

His strong arms pulling you gently towards him and holding onto you for dear life. His chest to your face, you could hear his heartbeat. You put your arms around his warm frame too.

You didn't know what was bothering him and you felt like right now wasn't the moment to ask him. Regardless you were sure to comfort him.

For all he was still your Husband. Your Satoru.

"I am now."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

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#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojo angst #arranged marriage #satoru gojo #tw family trauma

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grimm-writings · 8 months ago

Note

Hi there!

I'd like to request something for the Laios party x reader where reader licks rocks like how archaeologists sometimes do to determine if it's a rock or a fossil. They just won't stop licking stuff. One moment you are just having a chat and walking side by side and the next reader grabs a rock and licks it. How would they react to their crush licking things that are certainly not food?

“stop licking the damn thing!”

…ft! touden party x gn! reader, platonic izutsumi & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, grimm doesn't know shit about rocks

…wc! 342 ; 400 ; 405 ; 344 ; 303 = 1794

…notes! this ask enraptured me i had to complete it posthaste. i’m not an expert in archeology or geology, but i hope you enjoy!

Laios

“Ooh, can I have a lick?”

His ass does NOT give a fuck.

You could do anything and he wouldn’t be fazed I’m dead serious.

Honestly, once you do it in front of him he’d steer the conversation towards your study and how you figure out each time what is a rock and what is a fossil.

He may not fully take in all the information you give him. This isn’t a topic he’s admittedly too interested in.

Honestly he’d probably take up some of your advice and see if he tastes monster he can figure out certain things about it. Considering most monsters are made of raw meat, he has to be held back by your fellow partymates.

Someone (Chilchuck) usually has to encourage you to not “enable his behaviours.”

Overall, Laios simply does not judge!�� He’s open and welcoming, and will even take part in your study with you!

(It’s an added bonus that he really likes how you explain things to him…)

Almost like an eager dog, Laios leans over your shoulder to look at the stone in your hand. Prepared to explain yourself, like usual, you take a breath. “May I?” he interrupts you. You still for a second. Does he mean…? You slowly lift the rock up to the taller man behind you. You don’t have any words as he leans down to give a small lick. You’re almost flattered from how open he is to it. At the taste, Laios’ eyebrows furrow, and he seems to seriously try to dissect the flavour. He hums and tilts his head to you. “Salty?” “Yeah,” you reply, slowly growing a bit more comfortable as you get an excuse to talk about your study, “so that means this rock might contain evaporite minerals.” Laios smiles slightly, leaning back to his full height to converse with you in a more casual position. “Which are?” Your conversation continues, with Laios taking mental notes that he’ll hopefully remember for later next time he comes across a monster. Maybe if you find a gargoyle…

Marcille

Sorry she is so judgemental.

You are so lucky she likes you or else she’ll loudly give her opinion on how gross it is.

Well, that is until she learns the context as to why.

She’ll still be a little bit unsure, wondering if it’s proper conduct at all.

Marcille is trying her best, she really is, but you can’t just end a conversation so suddenly because you saw a rock, licked it in front of her, and said “hm… sedimentary.”

She wonders every day what she did to deserve such an… interesting taste in crushes.

Though, like all things, give Marcille some time and she’ll warm up to your habits a bit more. It may even be that she’ll be wondering about her study of the dungeon, running her hand along the wall, and thinking that she could call out to you to taste the wall and tell her the material.

She may not try out the method herself, but she’ll at least tolerate how you do it. There’s a science behind it, after all…

Marcille stares as you lick your lips and hum to yourself. Her mouth is a thin line and she’s trying her best not to come out with a disapproving comment. “Any… interesting findings…?” She stiffly asks instead, gripping Ambrosia as if you’ll try licking her to figure out the levels of Mana too. You can never be too cautious, even if she is only made out of wood. You smile at Marcille, either blissfully unaware of her austerity or pretending to be. You hold up the stone in your hand and outline something with your finger. “I think if we break this, we might find some fossils inside it. You can keep it for your research if you want.” Marcille’s ears perk up slightly at that. “For… me?” She asks aloud, as if there’s anyone else who’d be interested in dungeon rocks. As soon as she processes it she’s flushed and avoiding eye contact. “I mean, this is your field of study, not mine! I couldn’t possibly…” But you take her hands in your own, and place the fossil in her palm. Marcille’s breath hitches when you take her fingers and fold them over the stone. “I trust you to come up with something.” You beam at the elf, and she thinks that she might just have to take a chance in your skills.

Chilchuck

Not exactly open to it, not entirely critical about it either…

…But you will get a bit of a look whenever you do it.

He might be more the kind to make sure you aren’t outright doing it at stupid moments. You better not get any ideas looking at those statues!

Sometimes you’ll be about to hold the stone up to your mouth, and right when your tongue is about to touch it, you’ll hear Chilchuck sigh a “don’t.”

Honestly this guy is treating you like a dog with something it shouldn’t have in its mouth. Don’t worry, worrying and fretting is how he shows his love.

Even if he doesn’t like admitting to it…

If you try to explain how licking things helps in your study, Chil is inclined to raise his eyebrow and say that your field must be full of weirdos.

Then again, he’s the one who likes you so maybe he shouldn’t be too harsh…

He’s willing to let you do what you need to do but that doesn’t mean you’re free from his scathing commentary.

Crouched down, you analyse some rock in front of you. It stands out a fair bit from most of the other geodes down here. What could it be…? You lean in, your tongue grazing the stone slightly, and you lick. The tip of your tongue familiarises itself with the taste. Maybe metamorphic…? “Are you serious?” You freeze at the sound of Chilchuck’s boyish voice. On your hands and knees licking rocks isn’t exactly the ideal position to be judged in, even as you turn to look at the half-foot, arms crossed. “Senshi is in the middle of cooking, no need to resort to eating rocks.” You roll your eyes. You’re used to how Chilchuck treats your study at this point. “I was just curious.” Chilchuck scoffs, walking up to pull you by the back of your collar up onto your feet again, which you do with some coercion. “Yeah sure,” he says, “just wanna confirm you haven’t completely lost your marbles yet.” You look up at him, and squint. Holding back a laugh, you mutter, “was that…?” “No, it wasn’t a dad joke,” Chilchuck sighs, leaving you to your devices again. “Just don’t do anything stupid when no one’s watching.” He hopes even as you giggle and confirm, you won’t notice the bright blush blooming on Chilchuck’s cheeks and tips of his ears. How embarrassing…

Senshi

Also winning the dgaf war I fear.

He’d watch you lick some of the rocks you had picked out from your travels while resting.

It comes as no surprise that it then crosses his mind if the flavour changes when cooked, which he asks if he can do with some of your selection.

You can use your imagination on how Marcille and Chilchuck reacted when told that today’s dinner is … just rocks.

(Laios is disappointed that it isn’t any cool monster rocks.)

One delightful montage later, and ‘tis finished! Since they are for your research, Senshi insists you have the first bite.

Crunch… and oh, such unique flavours!

You gush to Senshi about how this is a major breakthrough in how different minerals react to cooking conditions, and he gives you his observations too.

Honestly, just sort of wholesome bonding!

“Aye, this one cooked easily, while this one took plenty more time.” You nod eagerly as you watch Senshi point to two different stones. “That’s because one is an igneous rock, which is magmatic. The other is a sedimentary rock, which carries different minerals from lakes and oceans. Separation in cooking must have resulted in different reactions! I wonder how different metamorphic rocks would react…” As you mumble to yourself, Senshi happily continues his meal-making, occasionally responding back to you with hums and comments about what else each observed in his experimentation. Even when you had finished up your meal entirely, you thanked Senshi with the widest grin on your face. He couldn’t help but be just a little flattered when you go on to joke that you should bring him home with you so he can help with your research. In return, Senshi listens to you, and hangs on your every word as you explain your findings to him. Even if not too nutritious of a meal, the minerals from the rocks provide some calcium and other such buffs! And well… If he can keep that happiness prolonged with his cooking, then he’s doing a very good job providing for you indeed!

Izutsumi

“Why are you eating rocks? Looks gross.”

Make way for the #1 hater…

Izutsumi refuses to listen to any such rationalities you make about your study or why you lick rocks (even though she’s the one who asked), she’s still finding it icky and weird.

You’d have to fight fire with fire when it comes to her, you’ll question why she does some habits she does in return – such as licking her hand.

She’ll look at you like you’re stupid, before telling you that it’s a way for her to clean herself and notice if there’s anything caught in her fur.

“Ah, so like how I would lick rocks to identify anything embedded in them too!”

…How dare you try to rationalise yourself with her own logic, heathen.

Jail for reader. Jail for 1000 years.

She’s not one to so readily accept other people’s weird quirks, but eventually she has to find that she’ll look stupid if she doesn’t… It’s a bit of a dirty scheme, but it works.

“Come on, Izu, just give it a try! I promise it just tastes like water.” “What kinda water?!” She shoots back. You pause. “W…Water?” This is how the argument between whether or not water has a flavour comes to be. Izutsumi insists that some water tastes icky while others taste nice. You have to explain that this pure water simply doesn’t have a taste. She doesn’t believe you. In fact, Izutsumi makes you give the sedimentary stone another taste before affirming, it just tastes like water. She’s about to grab your shoulders and shake you. What kind of water?! It takes plenty of encouragement and an immediate failsafe orange juice Senshi squeezed out for her to ‘get rid of’ the taste when you get Izutsumi to taste the stone. She still hasn’t forgiven you…

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sttoru · 1 year ago

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.

⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k

⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.

never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.

“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”

could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.

you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.

and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.

once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.

you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”

that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.

there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.

you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.

however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.

there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?

wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.

suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.

there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.

you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.

what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.

your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.

suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.

that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.

“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”

it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.

“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”

you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.

“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”

suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.

“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“

“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?

there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.

“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—

a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.

his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.

one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?

you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.

it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.

“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;

“will you let me love you?”

his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.

“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.

suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.

“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.

“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.

suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.

“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.

suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”

“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.

with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.

“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.

his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.

your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.

“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;

“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”

those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.

“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.

“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”

naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.

suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.

“thank you, baby.�� the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.

his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.

the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.

“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.

“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”

“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.

just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.

suguru was there to make love to you.

your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.

“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”

you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.

once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.

“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.

“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.

“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”

you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.

your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.

you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.

once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”

his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.

he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.

“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.

did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.

“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.

“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.

“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”

both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.

“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.

suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.

you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”

you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”

if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.

and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.

suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.

“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”

if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.

“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”

your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.

“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.

“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.

“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.

“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.

you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.

you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”

suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.

“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.

it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.

“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.

the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.

“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”

you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.

“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.

“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.

a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.

“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.

“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.

“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”

suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.

“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”

you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.

“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”

“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”

#ෆ : choose your fate.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jjk fic

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aggieslittlebunny · 2 months ago

Text

PLEASE TALK TO ME

MEN/MINORS DNI!!!

Pairing: University Student!Reader x Older!gf!Wanda

Summary: Reader’s life has always been hard, but as of late, it seems to be extremely harder for you. Your girlfriend, Wanda, is always ready to support you, but you push her away as your condition is getting worse and things escalate.

Trigger Warnings/Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, contain heavy/sensitive topic, mental illness, depressed reader, anxious reader, negative self-talk, self-harm, suicide attempt, suffering reader, reader have suspicion of being an ADHDer (but doesn’t get diagnosed). You have been warned, so don’t read this fic if there is a chance that you might get triggered, no matter how small the chance is. Please never hesitate to reach out to someone close to you or any professional help if you’re struggling mentally. You matter <3

Author Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any gramatical and spelling errors ^^

Word Count: 3.5k

Life has been hard for you lately, much harder than usual. You can’t exactly tell since when this has happened and the reasons behind it. Being a university student has always been a challenge. To be completely honest, despite getting A- for most of the courses you had, you always feel like you barely survived. Other students appear to be able to understand whatever topic the professors deliver right away. Besides that, it seems very easy for them to raise their hands and ask questions. Meanwhile, you? You can barely sit through three and a half hours of each lecture, let alone be focused throughout the whole thing. Being glued to the classroom chair for that long feels so horrible. Oftentimes, you think of excusing yourself to the restroom, but you are way too anxious to do that. All you can do is shift yourself in your seat every once in a while, but you can’t do that too much either because then people will notice how fidgety you are. You will attract unwanted attention.

Speaking of unwanted attention and being anxious, those are why it’s hard for you to ask questions during lectures. You don’t like having people’s eyes on you. You also keep asking yourself “what if my question is strange?” or “what if my question doesn’t make sense?” right after your brain makes a question, which gets you stuck in your head and prevents you from being an active student. That doesn’t mean you never ask questions. You pushed yourself to do that sometimes. You need to keep up with other students after all. But you truly despise it. You don’t like the feeling of your hands becoming clammy and how your heart beats very fast, making you breathe heavily.

Before you ask a question, you need to come up with one. That is also a problem for you since you believe that you have a short attention span. Your brain loves to wander, even when all you want to do is focus. You can pay attention to the professors’ voice and write down the important information you want to keep, but before you realize it, your train of thoughts are somewhere else and your hand has already stopped writing minutes ago. You have a lot of questions in your head, but you are afraid that they actually have been discussed and you just weren’t paying attention. You believe that you will look or sound ridiculous.

Your older girlfriend, Wanda, is aware of your struggles, but you haven't told her everything. You just let her know some bits without much detail. She is the most supportive girlfriend you have ever had. Well, she is your first girlfriend so that statement can’t be wrong. Seriously though, she is very supportive and sweet to you. You love her so much and will do anything to make her stay, even if that means hiding most of your problems and keeping your negative feelings bottled up.

You have been doing such a good job hiding how you feel in front of Wanda— and everyone. Thinking of people worried about you filled you with guilt, so you tend to just put on a happy or at least neutral look on your face. These past few weeks, your mask slowly cracks. Wanda started to notice the empty look in your eyes (no matter what expression you are making), the bag under your eyes, the forced cheerful tone escaping your lips, how you space out more frequently, how you seem to avoid people including her, and other behavior changes from you. Everytime she asks how you are doing, you will simply tell her that you’re fine, maybe a little tired. She knows you are not, but she doesn’t want to put pressure onto you and keep praying that you will open up soon. She keeps waiting and waiting. A couple of months passed and you seem to be getting worse. This makes her persuade you harder to tell her what is going on, but no matter how hard she tries, you never tell her the truth. You keep denying her that you are behaving really off and telling her that she is just overthinking.

“Sweetheart, you know that you can talk to me about anything at any time, right?” Wanda randomly blurts. Both of you are currently sitting on a bench in a park, eating ice cream while watching people minding their own business.

“Mmhm.” you replied shortly with a faint positive tone. You can feel her gaze pointed at you, but you decide to keep your eyes watching a little girl laughing with her parents as they play catch with their dog.

“I’m sorry to keep bringing this up. I can’t help but be worried about you, baby. The more time passes, the more I notice how you seem to not be doing well. You don’t need to pretend that you’re okay in front of me. I want you to rely on me. I might not be able to solve all of your problems, but I will always be with you. We can face this together if you let me. You’re not alone. Please tell me what is going on.” one of her hands reaches yours. You look at Wanda the moment she holds your hand.

“I’m alright, seriously. Maybe I'm just a little bit tired. The finals week is getting near and I need to be ready for that. I don’t want to fall behind. Thank you for caring about me, but can we not talk about this right now? Maybe we can talk about it later, just… not now.”

“Okay, baby. I understand. Do you want to grab some lunch after this?”

A day after that, you suddenly stopped meeting Wanda. Most calls from her are ignored by you. The ones you picked up never last longer than five minutes. You told her that you need to focus on your study, but Wanda doubts that. She knows from one of your friends that you have been skipping a bunch of lectures. She considered visiting you in your dorm, but you always refused whenever she asked for your permission. You gave her a hard no right away, every single time, no consideration. She tries to respect your decision, but it is getting harder each day for her, and unbeknownst to her, for you either. You are getting worse and it is actually out of her expectation and imagination.

Now it has been three weeks since you stopped meeting Wanda. She always waits for any message from you that appears to be sent to her less and less as the days pass. Today she hasn’t received any. She is beyond worried, but she also knows that you are having finals this week. The semester ends soon and she hopes she will be able to hang out with you again since you will have lots of free time for a month. She gave you some space since she thought that is what you need. She tries to act chill about it, but each buzz coming from her phone never fails to make her jolt. She will check her phone right away and gets disappointed when she doesn’t see your name (or ‘my baby’ since she set your contact as that) on her notifications.

She heard from you on Friday. It is almost midnight, but she can’t sleep unless she does her daily reading before bed. Therefore, there she is. She is sitting comfortably in her bed, her back against the headboard, and there is an open book in her hand. It was peaceful until her phone buzzed. When she takes a glance at her phone, she swiftly picks it up and opens a message from you. You sent her a link. That link leads her to a letter written by you. Her eyes scan each word carefully. You are thanking her for being a wonderful girlfriend. As Wanda keeps reading, she hopes that you are just giving her a sweet letter of appreciation. Deep inside, she fears that you are breaking up with her, but she tries not to judge quickly since it is a pretty lengthy letter and she barely reaches the quarter part of it.

“When you are reading this, I have done something stupid.”

Wanda freezes for a solid ten seconds. After that, she stands up and runs to her car. She forgets her car keys so she sprints back in to grab it and then she leaves her house with her car. She left her house unlocked and she is still wearing her pajamas, but those are none of her concern right now. Her head chanting your name as well as prayers that you are safe. As she drives, she continues reading your letter. Her eyes moved from her screen to the road repeatedly until she finished reading it. After that she completely focuses on the road and might have crossed the speed limit several times. She reached your dorm room in twenty minutes, thanks to one of your close friends that is still awake and messaged her the number of your room.

She expected that she would have to break the door open, but she was wrong. The door isn’t locked. She knows right away that it was left like that by you on purpose. You told her so many times that you always lock your door twice because you’re afraid of the possibility that a stranger can get into your room easily. The sound of her footsteps echoes in your room. Your room is dark, but there is light from the sideroad lamp slipping through your window. She saw the lump of your body covered with your favorite blanket in your bed and she approached you in a hurry. She cradles your face in her palms. She noticed your irregular breathing and that you are breathing through your mouth. She also quickly noticed that there is a kind of chemical smell coming out from your mouth. Her hand reached the phone in her pocket and she dialed the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. It will take around ten minutes for it to arrive.

Just when she is about to wake you up, she accidentally knocks over a mug on your bedside table. It is now on the ground and the liquid inside it seeps into the rug. At first she thought it was tea, but after a quick sniff into the air, she realized that it is not tea or at least not just tea. The smell is exactly the same as what is coming out from your mouth. She checked the water bottle that was sitting beside the mug. She remembers how you brought the bottle with you all the time. It has such a bold pink color and there is a picture of a rabbit saying ‘life is beautiful’ on it. She opens the bottle and at first glance it looks like it’s filled with normal water, but the somewhat gray look as well as the strong chemical scent said otherwise. Shortly after that, her eyes spot a little trash can near the bed. She noticed some tissues covered with blood as well as an empty bug spray can.

“Shit.” she thought.

“Baby? Baby, wake up. Please. Can you hear me?” Wanda tries to wake you up with panic in her voice. She pulls your blanket away to take a look at your arms and wrists. She found nothing. But a second later she saw some dried blood prints on your shorts, the left thigh part to be exact. After that, she taps your cheek and shakes your body firmly which elicits a groan from you.

“I’m sorry, Wanda. I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” You replied faintly. It is clear that you are slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Shh, you will be okay. There is nothing to be sorry for; I’m not mad at you. I love you very much. Please don’t go back to sleep. Stay with me, sweetie. I’ll get you to the hospital. The ambulance is coming.”

The paramedic comes soon after that and you are brought to the hospital. The emergency room is very cold and quiet. Maybe not that quiet since you hear people’s voices, but everything is so faint and blurry to you. After you get treated, Wanda is allowed to see you. She sees you smiling a little and she smiles back as she walks closer towards you.

You start telling her what has been happening in your life. Wanda sits on the hospital bed that you occupied, holding your hand as she hears your story. You tell her that you always feel so different throughout your life. You always feel like you are always in a race to keep up with other people around you. It gets harder and harder, especially with the fact that you’re a student in a top university. You tell her that since you get into university, your life is way messier than before. Keeping up with other students almost feels impossible. You try and try and try, but it is never enough. You are never satisfied and you feel like you are the most stupid student compared to other students in the same year as you.

Your grades might say different things, but there are endless efforts to get those grades. You are a procrastinator, but it is not because you don’t want to do your responsibility. Most of the time, you just can’t. Your body and brain won’t function the way you want them to and you despise that part of yourself because that makes you feel lazy. But you also barely get any sleep to finish your assignments, prepare your part in group assignments, and sometimes you cover your friend’s part or any extra part. That caused you to sleep like three hours a day. Some days four, the other days two, and this rarely happens but you can go two or three days without sleep. You have been living with this terrible sleep schedule for three years now. All you want is to be like other students. You’re scared of falling behind. You know you will not survive by yourself so you want your classmates to be able to rely on you on group projects. You want as many classmates as possible to like you.

“I’m so tired, Wanda. I’m exhausted.” You sighed painfully.

You proceed to tell her how your head was slowly becoming evil to you. It’s never peaceful in your head. Different things are piling up inside it. They’re messy piles and your brain seems to insist on unpacking them all at the same time. You can feel the chaos within your body and mind. The chaos streaming in your blood makes you want to curl up and disappear. Then it’s getting worse. Your brain started telling you various negative things:

“No one likes you.”

“Your friends hate you. They talk about you behind your back”

“You’re a terrible person.”

You began to believe those things. Watching your friends surrounding a table in the cafeteria leads you to think that they were talking shitty stuff about you. Especially after a friend of yours noticed that you were crying in front of the class but said nothing. After that, you started to spend lots of time hiding in the restroom stall to cry, usually before class. You were terrified by people around you and your own brain. Then you seek out some help. You reached out to a counselor provided by your university. You confessed to her about the problems you have been having as of late, and talking helps, but not much. Your brain is still very mean to you. At some point you really want to know what is going on with you. You desperately want an explanation on why you feel so different compared to others since you were a little kid. You dived into the internet, researching stuff based on your struggles. You are very sure that you’re suffering from depression, maybe even anxiety. But you believe that there is something more. After weeks of researching, you have a suspicion that you might have ADHD. You read some books, watched lots of videos, and asked some of your online friends who are ADHDer.

“I can never be sure until I get a proper diagnosis and I can’t get a diagnosis from a counselor. But if my counselor can at least agree with my suspicion, I assume it will be easier for me to get actual diagnosis. Therefore I talked about it with her, my counselor. I didn’t explicitly say to her that I think I might have ADHD. Instead, I tell her my life experiences that relate to the symptoms. At one point she cut my story.”

“Aren’t you just lazy?” the words your counselor threw at you echo in your brain.

“Am I just lazy, Wanda? Please tell me it’s not true. I’m trying. I always try! Please believe me! I-”

Wanda instantly cups your face in her hands and rests her forehead against yours.

“Breathe, sweetie. Deep breath. I’m with you. You’re not lazy. Not at all. You have been trying your best. I know it, baby.”

“It’s so painful! It feels like she throws away my self-image I’ve been building all my life. The sleepless nights… The notes covering my dorm walls…” you take a sharp breath and continue, “Even as a kid, my parents pushed me so hard to study. In elementary school, they will make me study until midnight during test weeks. In middle school I fell behind, but managed to push myself so that I could get into a good highschool. I push myself all the time to keep up with everybody else. Maybe I also do it so my parents will keep loving me. To them, my grades define who I am. They expect so much from me. It hurts…” you cry at the last two words and Wanda embraces you in a warm hug.

“The day when my counselor said that, I walked back to my dorm room with tears streaming down my face. I sobbed as I walked, maybe some strangers saw me in that state, but I was in too much agony to care. I stopped seeking out help from anyone. I just want to know why I am the way I am. But I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand feeling so different than anyone else. I also throw that suspicion away. I can’t face it since then.” you pushed Wanda away gently to look at her face. You can see tenderness in her eyes. How can you be so lucky to have her?

“I guess that pushed me further to this point. I didn’t get any help. I pushed myself even harder. I carried way much more stuff than I can handle. Last week, I constantly had my nose bleeding. That keeps going for like five days. I hurt myself too several times. It’s like I’m literally sacrificing my blood, sweat, and tears to survive. Then my head started telling me harmful stuff and questioning my worth of living.”

“Why are you still trying?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why don’t you just kill yourself?”

“You should just kill yourself.”

“You should kill your family members too. They are in danger and you need to end their lives to save them.”

“I’m terrified, Wanda! I’m scared! I’m scared of myself so much. You have no idea. That’s why I ended up here. I thought this was the only way to fix this. I’m so sorry…”

“Baby…” a tear runs down Wanda’s cheek and she leaves a kiss on top of your head before speaking up again, “Thank you for telling me this, sweetheart. I know there is still so much left unsaid and I know you’re telling me as much as you can at this moment. Thank you for trusting me with this. I’m not mad at you. I’m not angry. I’m not disappointed. But may I know why you kept telling me that you’re fine on those days?”

“I’m afraid that I will become a burden and you will think that I’m too much and…”

“I will leave you?” you nod.

“I'm sorry, Wanda. I truly am sorry.”

“Stop that, baby. It’s fine now. You will get proper help after this and I will always support you. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s take it slow, yeah?” you nod once again and pull her into a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

Wanda’s hand begins to stroke your hair lovingly, “Please never hesitate to tell me anything in the future. You can stay at my place when your head is being very mean to you. In fact you can stay at my place anytime. I won’t mind seeing your little cute face every morning, I would love that. We can work on your sleep schedule together and maybe find a study method that suits you. I know it’s not easy and you’ve been struggling very hard by yourself, but you don’t have to do that anymore. You don’t have to be by yourself. You have me. I got you, sweetheart.”

“What did I do to deserve you, Wands?”

“You don’t need to do anything to be loved by me. I love you, more than you know.”

“I love you too. I love you to the moon and back.”

#bunnywrites.ᐟ #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x female reader #mommy wanda x fem!reader

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ahundredtimesover · 9 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (08) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 17.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you again for all your love and appreciation for this story. Srsly, I'm perpetually blown away 🥰 But like I've mentioned, updates will take longer after this as I return to uni, so I hope for your patience as we get closer to the end.

This chapter also contains triggering topics such as sexual harassment and attempted assault. There's a discussion on what happens after something traumatizing like that, so pls be cautious and know that what's depicted here is just another way of dealing with such experience.

On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The end-of-autumn chilly air pierces through your skin, lingering even as you settle inside the plant store that gives the warmth that you need. You sigh in relief, and Soomin and Jimin giggle at you because they know how you are. It’s why during moments like this, their affection shows, hugging you from each side as you look up at the shelf for another rubber tree you want to add to your collection.

“What are you two on about?” You ask, nonchalantly releasing your arm to get your chosen glossy plant.

“Nothing, just showing our love,” Soomin says, resting her chin on your shoulder. “We know you love the cold even if you easily get cold. You don’t like hugs either but you can’t do anything about us.”

“It’s true that I can’t do anything about the both of you,” you hum. “But you also know it’s not that I don’t like hugs. It’s just not my preferred form of affection.”

“Even after all the years that we’ve been giving it to you?” Jimin asks, as he pulls away from you to place the plant in your cart.

“Yeah. I mean, if I only give or receive it every few weeks, then it wouldn’t be,” you respond. “But I also wouldn’t really know. Other than you guys, there’s not much affection I feel towards other people.”

It’s a reality you’ve long accepted. You’re away from your family and friends, and the only other form of affection you receive is through sex with the few men you’ve been interested in - pleasurable at best, shallow at worst. Perhaps it’s the reason why you do, you think now. They’re still good substitutes. Being alone doesn’t feel so lonely when you’re intimate with people you don’t exactly share moments of intimacy with. You’ve learned these last few years that there’s a difference.

Your friends just hum in agreement, choosing now to point out that your home is transforming into some zen garden with the amount of plants you’ve bought just this last month.

“Should I just be a gardener or a plant store worker?” You look at them. “Or study to become a landscape designer?”

“Honey, tending to low-maintenance plants is a different thing,” Soomin chuckles. “That’s a start, though. But kidding aside, so a career change is what you’re going for?”

“Hmm, just a thought,” you shrug. “What if moving companies isn’t just what I need? What if it’s doing something completely different? Like being out of an office or answering to someone or something?”

“That’s true. Sometimes we find what we’re looking for in unfamiliar environments,” Jimin chimes in. “Are you thinking about doing it soon?”

“Maybe not,” you say. “I’ve become quite invested in the Arts Center and I really wanna see it through. Maybe after it’s opened, then that’s when I’ll finally step away.”

“Well, you have been doing a lot of work for it,” Soomin agrees. “But… are you sure it’s the only thing holding you back? And not someone specific? A boss, maybe?”

“The Arts Center isn’t holding me back, Soo. And neither is Jungkook,” you state. “After all the years I spent in the company, I don’t wanna let anything or anyone keep me from doing what’s best for me. I don’t… I don’t wanna get stuck there. I don’t wanna keep feeling indebted. That’s what’s held me back this whole time.”

“Oh, hun,” Soomin sighs. “You don’t owe anyone anything. And if you did, you’ve paid your dues, all eight years of them.”

As Jimin heads out to get his car, she entangles her arm around yours and asks again if your decision to wait to resign has something to do with Jungkook.

“Why are you so insistent?” You frown at her.

“Just… wondering. You haven’t expressed disdain for him in so long. Even the weekly ugh work drives me nuts messages have stopped, and that says a lot. I was just thinking that maybe he’s gone soft on you, and that you’ve gone soft on him, too. I just wanna make sure I’m ready when you drop the bomb on us or something. I mean, you two have so much tension, who knows what’ll happen?”

“Okay, what if I’ve just developed better coping mechanisms now and can manage without complaining about it? That’s a possibility. And, even if I’ve been busy with organizing events and stuff, I actually enjoy that,” you explain.

“Okay. So what about Jungkook?”

You look away, knowing that any acknowledgment of the comfort you’ve started to feel around him may start to mean something else once you say it. Admitting even the tiniest bit of attraction is even more of a no-no, so you just play it off, the same way you did when you got home from the gala and you dodged all questions about him, choosing instead to talk about the delicious food and the weird people you met.

“We’ve found a way to move on from how we started and learned that we actually work really well together. We have to be professional and all that.”

Right, you scoff to yourself. Thinking about your boss’ smile as you fall asleep is anything but professional.

“Fine, whatever you say,” she gives in as the car comes into view. “Just know that I’m here, okay? Jimin’s a bit protective and still hasn’t gotten over how that man treated you so you can talk to me in case anything else changes.”

“I will,” you say, giving her hand a squeeze.

You spend the rest of that weekend watching movies and singing your hearts out at a karaoke and stuffing your faces with good food. Before you know it, you’re back in your bed on a Sunday, all alone, but you don’t feel so lonely, nor do you feel so terrible at having to start another week. If anything, you’re wondering how Jungkook spent these last two days. At a club, maybe. He did say there’s always a party he’s invited to.

You stop yourself from thinking of what happens after that. He’s got women at his beck and call after all, even when he’s in Singapore, as Lucas had told you during your call two months ago. But it doesn’t really matter - Jungkook is Jungkook and you’re you. And that’s not yet even considering the glaring reality of him being your boss.

Ever since the gala, you can say that there’s been a change in how you’ve been with him. There’s a lot more attention, you’d say. There’s more admiration, too, when it comes to him doing his work, making decisions, and drawing up plans and designs.

You understand the distance and the detachment somehow. You suppose that whatever he experienced made him that way, so you’d make an effort into making him smile, teasing him a little more than usual so there’s a bit more joy in his day. You can say he’s gotten used to it. Even Mr. Ri would laugh and join in.

And that’s the thing - you anticipate it. You look forward to the curl of his lips and the dip on his lower cheek and the softness in his eyes and the way he turns away or bows his head to hide it. Even the way he’d play it off is quite endearing, a term you never thought you’d use to describe him. It makes you wonder if people had tried to get to know him, maybe knock on the door and wait around to see if he’d come out and let them in.

But all that has brought you to right now - Sunday night as you think about seeing him the next morning. You think back to all the times that you’d entered his penthouse and saw him in his gym attire post-workout, the seconds you’d spent so close to him as you adjusted his necktie, and the breakfasts and car rides you’d shared. You recall the nods of acknowledgement after serving him his coffee, the times he’d agreed with your recommendations, and the instances he’d turned to you for support and his look of thanks after you’ve given it.

Then there’s the grazing of your fingertips, the brushing of arms, the interlocking of eyes.

And your heart, beating a little too fast then.

You groan to yourself. You really have to find a way for this to stop.

You try to keep your distance from Jungkook for the next few days.

You do your usual - fix his outfit, eat with him the breakfast you prepared, go through schedules, and join him in meetings. You do away with the eye contact, you skip the teasing, and you don’t share about your evening like you’ve been doing. And that’s only because doing so just gives you moments to remember, like his gazes lingering or the sound of his laughter. Even more, it messes with your mind thinking that just like you, he spends most of his weeknights alone.

You act unbothered, although him catching you looking at him from your office seat and then you, quickly looking away doesn’t really help your case.

It’s on Wednesday when he passes by your desk to put back some files and you return to your task after giving him a small smile when he asks if you’re okay.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Just a little tired but aren’t we all?” You respond, your eyes flitting from him to your desktop screen.

“Yes, but most of us take breaks. You don’t,” he counters.

“Neither do you,” you turn to him with an arched brow.

It’s become a habit of yours to remind him to rest but just like you, he’s pretty stubborn.

“Ah, there you are,” he chuckles. “I was almost convinced you’re not really my assistant if you didn’t point that out but alas, it’s you.”

“Are you testing me, sir?” You frown at him.

A mistake, really, since he gives you that teasing smirk of his that you’re learning is your weakness.

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “You just haven’t seemed like yourself all week and I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. You can take a leave tomorrow, if that’s what you need.”

“It’s okay, sir. And I’m fine,” you assure him, realizing that there’s not much that could keep you away from him. “Plus, we have that dinner with the media festival organizers tomorrow evening and it’s the only time they’re free.”

“I know,” he sighs. “As long as you’re sure. It’s selfish but I do need you there.”

Of course he does, you think to yourself. You’re there to make his life easier, after all. It’s the only reason why he’d ever need you or want you around.

You confirm that you’ll go to work tomorrow and sigh in relief when he doesn’t say anything more. You decide to go home, wanting to get to the weekend so you can find some distraction, in whatever way that may be.

Thursday comes and you spend your day divided between working with the support team for the upcoming VP events and coordinating with the Arts Center marketing team for the deliverables they need signed off.

It’s busy enough that you don’t see much of Jungkook but that only really lasts until you have to accompany him to that welcome dinner with the organizers of the international media festival that Jungkook wanted to collaborate with for the Arts Center promotions. It’s happening in August of next year and while the partnership has been established, he wants to work on his relationship with them so that the plans could firm up quickly.

You head to Jungkook’s restaurant of choice in Itaewon, a fancy place that serves Korean dishes in a modern, artistic way. You’ve heard about it before; the food looks like something you could put at an art gallery. Korea’s exceptional ability to merge traditional and modern elements is reflected in this restaurant’s menu. It’s why he wanted to bring them here, he tells you.

You settle in your seat, excited for the dishes that are about to come out, and that’s when you see him, the man you dated before Hajoon, and someone you haven’t heard from in a while. Of course, that wasn’t always the case. He continued to reach out months after you ended things with him. It seemed harmless then, and it was only two years ago when he finally stopped.

Chi-won recognizes you first, having come in to serve the first set of dishes. He stares as he sets the plate in front of you, his gaze lingering even as he moves on to one of the organizers to your right. He looks different, which is why it took you another look for his face to register. He’s lost weight and cut his hair; his features look somehow harder, too.

There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He was pretty laid-back, a reason why you both clicked that first time. He’d have his moments of frustration, letting them out in his own ways like in the bedroom, but he always seemed to get over them quickly.

Things were always casual and you made sure he knew that. He didn’t seem to mind at first but he started to want more and with your new role with Hoseok then, you were always tired and busy. The nights with Chi-won stopped being your relief, and when you told him you couldn’t see him anymore, he seemed to accept it. The messages shortly after were just about asking how you were doing and after answering twice, you stopped replying and then changed your number. You haven’t heard from him since, and you assumed he’d just accepted things and moved on.

But tonight you feel the tension, and so when he stands close to you when he serves the succeeding plates and when he waits around your table to watch you eat, you start to feel uncomfortable.

You try to be present in the conversation happening around you, as the organizers seem to be enjoying the meal while also pitching in some ideas for the launch. You try to focus on Jungkook’s voice this time to distract you. But the pair of eyes that seems to watch your every move starts to become too much, and the anxiety builds as each second ticks by.

It’s while you wait for the dessert when you take the opportunity to step out. Jungkook mentions the invitation drafts so you say that they’re saved in your iPad that you’ll retrieve from the car parked on the other street. He agrees that it would be good to show them, so you excuse yourself and get some much needed fresh air, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder just by not being in the same space as Chi-won.

That is, until you hear a familiar voice call your name.

You stiffen for only a moment then continue to walk, fumbling for your phone as you try to dial Mr. Ri’s number. But you don’t get to, as the man following you pulls your wrist to get you to face him. You jerk in response, dropping your phone on the ground, and the fear fills you immediately.

“Don’t touch me,” you seeth, cradling your arm as you pick up your phone.

You try to stay calm, even as his smug face gives you chills, and you try to remember the man who liked to laugh and joke around those years ago, seeing now that he’s nothing like him.

“Funny you say that when that’s all you wanted me to do before,” he mocks, inching closer to you. “I know you remember, ___. Those nights were amazing, weren’t they? Your body and your moans told me so, so I don’t know why you wanted them to stop.”

You want to stay silent and not give him anything, but there’s desperation in his eyes, and you’re afraid of what he’ll do if you don’t even acknowledge him, so you give the same explanation you did before.

“I told you. I didn’t want anything serious,” you say, making sure you keep your distance from him.

“That’s not what you’d say whenever you’re drunk,” he counters. “You’d go on about not wanting to be alone, about wanting to be taken care of and being with someone who made you feel loved.”

“I never said I wanted it to be you,” you respond, too quickly for his liking it seems, as you see his look turn into anger.

“So what was I for?” He demands. “Just the guy you fucked for the sake of it?”

“I was stressed with work and you hated yours,” you remind him. “That’s all we needed each other for.”

“But things changed for me,” he says, his voice softening again, the fluctuation of his tone scaring you even more. “I wanted to be with you. And seeing you now, I know I still do.”

“But I don’t,” you state. “I didn’t then and I don’t even now.”

“But you wanted that restaurant owner, didn’t you?” He demands, worrying you that he knows about Hajoon.

“No, that didn’t mean anything. We were never together.”

“Bullshit, ___. I’d see you at the clubs around here with his arm on your waist, just like I used to do. That clearly meant something.”

The thought that Chi-won kept tabs on you even after you ended things makes you angry. Perhaps it’s because he works around the area you frequented during those times but even then, the fact that he even knows what Hajoon does for a living is crossing the line, and in your frustration, you hit Chi-won where it hurts the most.

“Clearly it didn’t mean enough because I’m not seeing him anymore. And I was never serious with him, just like I wasn’t with you.”

He visibly groans. He walks closer to you again, prompting you to walk backwards. With you turned back and walking on your heels on the uneven pavement, you’re worried you’ll hurt yourself. Even more, a part of you is scared that he’ll hurt you. It’s still early on a Thursday night and you’re in the quieter part of town so there aren’t many people walking on the streets; those who are are too far for you to catch their attention. So you continue your steps until you’re backed up against the wall and with nowhere to go, you start to panic, feeling the fear slowly overtake you.

“You know, I came out here because I wanted to talk to you just to see how you were doing since you know, I actually cared about you like you wanted,” he rolls his eyes. “But seeing you act like none of what we shared mattered just makes me so angry. Why do you get to go on and treat me like shit? I’m just gonna have to do the same, then.”

At this, he cages you, his face too close to yours that you freeze in fear. The smirk makes you nauseous, but somehow you find the strength to push him away but he comes back right after, closer each time.

“I said, don’t touch me!” You yell, giving him another shove. “Just stay away from me!”

Chi-won grabs your wrist once more, holding you tightly so he can show you that he has control and that he can do whatever he wants.

“Let me go!” You plead, but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to, not when I get to have you all alone after so long,” he hums, licking his lips and dragging his eyes all over your body. “I always liked it when you came over wearing that skirt of yours.”

You know this is what he wants. He wants you to be scared, he wants to haunt your dreams and not make you forget him because he knows that you obviously already had. You’re terrified but you try to gather whatever courage you have within you to fight back.

But it’s then that you hear footsteps, and a shadow appears behind Chi-won.

“She said to let her go.”

Jungkook’s voice is hard, tense, angry. But there’s control, and you can tell that he’s trying to hold himself back. He comes into view, the mix of worry and anger on his face helping to relieve your fear.

But it doesn’t affect Chi-won, as he continues to hold onto your wrist. Your strained face lets Jungkook know that you’re still in the man’s hold, prompting him to walk closer and repeat his words.

“I said to let her go,” he demands. “Do it. Because we both know there are so many things I can do to you and smashing your face is just one of them.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeves and clenches his fists. He doesn’t think it’s enough to scare the man who’s holding you hostage but he thinks it’s enough to show that he’s indeed willing to throw a punch if he has to. He’d pull the man away but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He’d beat the daylights out of this asshole but he doesn’t want you to witness that. You’re terrified already as it is; anything more might just break you further.

So Jungkook keeps his gaze on the man, hoping the threat would work somehow.

It does, as the man lets you go then raises his arms mockingly, as if to surrender. You step away immediately, finding your way towards Jungkook. Chi-won looks at the man next to you from head-to-toe, his attempt at intimidation.

“The boss, I assume?” Chi-won scoffs. “That’s cheap, even for you.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that,” Jungkook fumes, trying his hardest to keep himself together and not make this worse.

“Women who are that lonely and that desperate for sex would do anything and use anyone to get what they want and feel better about themselves,” Chi-won shrugs. “I’m just saying I’m not surprised.”

The insult is unfounded. You know at this point, he’s just trying to say anything to provoke Jungkook and put you down in the process. Somehow you’ve learned how to deal with men like this.

“Yeah, I was so desperate that I ended up settling for a low-life like you,” you scoff, hoping the brave facade holds up. “You weren’t even that good. I could only fake it for so long.”

And this is what does it for him, as Chi-won’s face distorts in anger, and while you know your words provoked him, you wanted to show that you could regain your control, and he’s the one who now breaks because of it.

“Fucking slut,” he yells, charging towards you.

But Jungkook charges back, pushing Chi-won towards the wall and making sure he stays there. The anger on Jungkook’s face is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, yet despite this side of him that you’re now witnessing, you can’t help but feel emotional at his presence. If it wasn’t for him, you don’t know what would’ve happened; you don’t know where you’d pull the strength to stand up for yourself.

“You say anything else and I swear, getting fired is gonna be the least of your worries,” Jungkook huffs. “Because this boss knows your manager. This boss knows the police chief at the station not far away. You hurt her and you’re gonna pay for this. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Chi-won slowly realizes that those aren’t empty words, as he visibly starts to look worried. There’s not much he can do now. You doubt he can overpower Jungkook despite his size. You also know Chi-won doesn’t have much, and losing his job could make him lose everything. And that scares you, too.

“Jungkook, it’s okay. Just let him go,” you plead, tugging his arm to pull him away. You know how much worse it could get if anything else happens. You know that Jungkook is very much capable of inflicting physical pain, and you don’t want blood on his hands because of you. “Let’s just go back inside.”

Jungkook looks at you, the fear clearly still evident - your eyes are glassy and empty, your hand on his arm is shaking, and your voice is cracking. Whatever courage you had at answering back earlier is slowly dissipating, and all Jungkook wants is to get you away from all this.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. He’s just angry and I don’t blame him,” you insist.

All lies, really. You wish the worst for Chi-won, but you know it won’t do you nor Jungkook any good if you both go down this path.

Your eyes plead for him to take your lead this time and he sees it, he sees you, and you see his tiniest of nods before turning to Chi-won.

“Get out of here and call it a night before I do anything else to you.”

Chi-won, who’s clearly still furious, starts walking away. But in his effort to regain the control you took from him, he turns to you before heading back inside.

“You’re really fucking good at that, you know?” He says to you. “Fuck the man you know wants you and then just drop him when you get bored or when you find the next guy who can pleasure you without the commitment you obviously desperately want. You’ll always be miserable whatever you do.”

You will the tears not to fall as the words hit you where it hurts. They’re things you’ve heard not long ago, just in a different variation, and by another man who had the same fate as Chi-won - left by you because you couldn’t give them what they wanted. Maybe you’re too honest when you’re drunk, maybe that’s when the yearning for something meaningful and more permanent comes out, and maybe that’s when they thought they could be what you wanted.

But you’ve always known from the beginning that they couldn’t give you what you desired, and you always hoped you’d cut the cord before they started to want more. Turns out your timing is just as bad as your judgment.

You let them have the final say, though. And then you let them walk away. You feel like it’s climactic for them, liberating even, to be able to tell the person who hurt them that she’s selfish and she doesn’t deserve happiness. You suppose it just proves that they didn’t really feel much; perhaps your read on people isn’t that terrible after all.

You manage to rein all the emotions in and look at Jungkook who remains standing next to you. His fist is still clenched and you see the anger in his eyes. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when Hajoon threatened him. This is the first time you thought he could really hurt someone, and he would’ve done it on your defense.

“We should go back to dinner,” you finally say. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Jungkook turns to you, the fear still evident in your eyes but he can see you trying, he can see you try to be brave and bury all that pain in for his sake.

“I’m not letting you go back in there,” he responds, his tone hard and firm. “I’m not letting you anywhere near that man again.”

You don’t insist this time. You don’t want to be anywhere near Chi-won, either. So you just nod and wait for Mr. Ri to arrive after he was called to come to you with the car. Jungkook is about to instruct the older man to go inside and send his apologies to the organizers but you tell Jungkook it should be him. You manage to convince him to properly send them off and pay the bill and while initially unwilling, he finally goes, giving Mr. Ri strict orders not to leave you alone.

Mr. Ri breaks at the pained look on your face - an uncommon sight for him, and one that hurts him. It’s not the first time though, and that just makes it worse.

“Stay strong, okay?” He says, despite not knowing what happened. “You have people around to protect you, to keep you safe. You know that.”

You nod in acknowledgement, as you’re unable to get any word out. But you see the pain in his eyes, too, and for all the years that you’ve known him, the comfort in them always comes.

Jungkook returns and informs you that the organizers will be leaving soon. He asks you if it’s okay if he drives you home and you say that it is. Even if he’s just seen you be humiliated, somehow it’s him you want to be with you as you try to process what happened. You know it’ll ease his mind as well, and you don’t want him to worry any more than he already is.

You both say goodbye to Mr. Ri and then enter the car, with you feeling a little odd to be sitting in the passenger seat with Jungkook next to you. But you settle in, your body moving on its own; it feels quite foreign to you, with your mind in a haze and your nails engraving their marks on your palms, as if by some miracle it could erase what happened tonight from your memory.

But you doubt anything would.

“His shift ends soon and I don’t want to take you home right away, just in case he follows,” Jungkook says.

You look at him questioningly and he immediately knows what you’re thinking.

“I know the manager and I asked him,” he explains as he starts driving away. “But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything. And that bastard didn’t see me. He avoided me and stayed in the kitchen the whole time I was there, as if he wasn’t serving our table the whole evening. I should’ve picked up that he was trying to get near you. I… I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time.”

You still came for me, you want to say. It’s the thought that keeps swimming in your mind. You don’t know how long you were gone for but he could’ve called; he chose to go out and look for you instead.

It’s as if he knows what you’re thinking, as he says that he noticed you were away longer than he expected.

“It just felt odd. You would’ve messaged me if something was up,” he reasons. “I guess I noticed earlier that he kept coming to our table for no reason but I didn’t pay it any mind. But then another server brought the dessert. I asked where he was and the guy said he went outside without any explanation, and I just had a weird feeling. I should’ve come sooner, ___.”

You want to say that he doesn’t have to apologize, that things could’ve been worse if he hadn’t come, that you owe him your life that he did but you’re feeling too much to even manage a word out.

At the stoplight, he turns to you and sees the half-moons embedded on your skin. He sees the glassy eyes and the trembling lips. He wants nothing more than to shield you from all this, to take you somewhere where you’re safe and where no one can hurt you. He didn’t think that seeing you like this would make him feel so powerless, because much as he can make that man’s life miserable if you let him, what he can’t do is take your pain away. What he doesn’t know how to do is comfort you.

“I’ll drive you around first, is that okay?”

You nod, turning to your right to watch the city pass you by. It’s a breeze driving down the bridge as lights illuminate the Han River. The moon’s reflected on it, too, but you don’t feel any joy nor calmness. All you feel is this heavy burden of disgust and fear and shame and loneliness and anger.

You quickly wipe the tear that falls, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t see. Your eyes remain glued outside, and you watch the buildings slowly disappear, replaced by little cafes and stores closing shop. It’s a familiar street, one you’ve passed by on some mornings, and you appreciate the familiarity.

The car stops but you don’t look away from the window, afraid that seeing the worry on Jungkook’s face will make you break down.

“We’re at a neighborhood park near your place,” he says. “I’ll just be outside, just in case you need time alone. You can put the radio on blast. You can honk if you need me, or you can come out if you want to. I’m just here.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He just exits the car and walks towards the bench that overlooks the playground. You put the music on loudly, and perhaps just as he expected you to do, you cry. And you cry hard.

You shut your eyes from the pain. It forces you to relive that moment but you do your best to crumple it like paper and then burn it from your memory. You know the burned pieces and the smoke will stay - an alley will trigger you, the scent of cooking oil and cheap cologne will make you gag. It’s how it is with painful memories - they burn you but there’s not much you can do to put out the fire. And when it’s gone, it’s not over. The scars remind you it happened. And then they urge you to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

You don’t know how long it takes for you to cry out all the tears. It feels like they won’t end - they’re the words you couldn’t say earlier, and the words that would haunt you for longer. But they eventually stop falling, and you’re exhausted by the time they do. You have new crescents on your palms, too, and those may go away but you know they’re the only things that will. Everything else will be invisible, and that makes it a harder burden to carry.

Outside, Jungkook glances at the car to make sure you’re still there. He doesn’t think there’s any danger now; he doubts that man got to follow you here, too. But with what happened earlier, there’s this perpetual worry about anything that harms you, and he doesn’t want for there to be even a single second where you’re afraid, where you’re looking over your shoulder in fear, and where you think you’re everything that man said you are.

He can try to keep you safe. He can try to lift you up. But when it’s about trying to forget, trying to move on, he knows there’s not much he can do. He knows a bit about painful experiences and memories that won't leave him. He’s done his best to hide those away, kept in the deepest nooks of his being that’s caused him to conceal parts of himself as well. It’s not easy to do but he does it; all these years later, he doesn’t know how not to.

But then there’s you and somehow, those parts of him that he’s kept hidden come out. Maybe it’s those pieces that will help comfort you, that will help protect you, that will help keep you safe. He’s not sure but if they are, maybe it’s not such a bad thing for them to resurface, if it means you won’t be scared or hurt or alone.

His gaze flits back to the playground. He glances at your direction every few minutes. He wants to respect your privacy, at least as much as what his car and the radio on blast could give. He hopes that all the crying could help ease your pain somehow. He also hopes he’s one person who could.

Jungkook hears the door open and he turns to see you slowly get out. He remains in his seat and waits to see where you go. A minute later, you’re sitting on the bench next to him, your breathing slowed down now, and your hands are less shaky than earlier. Your eyes are still glassy, and he wishes he could wipe the tears away should they fall, but he knows it’s not something he can do.

Both of you sit in silence as you watch the moon dance over the field of grass. It’s peaceful here at this time of the night. It’s not a place you expected him to take you but you’re glad that he did.

You didn’t grow up going to parks because your mother rarely had time to take you; no one could accompany you either. When you moved to Busan during your pre-teen years, you felt you’d outgrown it even if Jimin and Soomin would invite you. There were always so many kids around and you didn’t know how to talk to them or to play with them so you always stayed in your own spot, near the tree where you could watch them run about.

“I didn’t know where to take you but, uh, I loved playing in the playground when I was a kid,” Jungkook bursts through your thoughts. “It somehow always made me feel safe.”

“Did you like going to parks, too?” You ask, finally finding your voice, visibly surprising him.

“Not really. I wasn’t exactly fond of people even as a child,” he softly chuckles, earning him a small smile. “And well, my older brother liked to tease me in front of his friends when we’d play so I would ask to go late in the afternoon once the kids have left. My father picked up on it so he built a playground just for me in our backyard. It was really nice. I’d spend all day there when I was younger.”

A little Jungkook coming down the slide, climbing up the rock wall, and playing in the seesaw looks so wholesome. You wonder if he squealed while on the swing like kids usually do. Maybe. It’s nice to imagine a version of him that’s joyful and free. You wonder when the last time he felt that way was.

You also wonder what has made him share something that feels so personal to him with you. You’re thinking maybe it’s to make you feel comfortable or to ease your nerves; maybe it’s to tell you that unlike Chi-won, he’s not there to threaten you. Maybe Jungkook wants to tell you that he’s someone you can trust, that despite what you are to each other, at this moment, he can be a friend.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage to say. “Thank you for coming to find me and keeping him away from me. He… he was someone I used to see and I ended things and I thought we were okay. I hadn’t seen him in a while and—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he says softly. “I understand that it’s difficult and reliving it might just make you more scared and upset.“

“But I… I need to say it, at least just this once,” you stammer. “Just so it won’t stay in my head like some made-up reality until I’m convinced it didn’t really happen. Because it did.”

He turns to you, his eyes the most sympathetic you’ve seen them, and he nods.

So you tell him - how Chi-won kept staring at you as you ate, how he pulled you towards him and then caged you against the wall.

“He was too close and I could… smell him, as if he wanted me to remember his scent, and that he didn’t want me to ever forget it,” you say.

Your tears fall slowly this time. Your voice cracks and your nails dig into your skin again. It feels so heavy, that even as you try to expend the negative energy, it’s still there. As if the memory itself is tangible, like a sack of sand filling you from inside and it makes you unable to breathe.

But the sight of Jungkook’s trembling hands catches your attention, and you turn to him - his jaws tight and his eyes, tense and deep.

“I’m so angry for you,” he heaves, his fists clenching now. He still wants to wipe your tears but he also wants to go back to the restaurant and finally punch that man’s face. “You should file a case. You have all the grounds for that. I can get him fired and he can lose everything.”

“The law and society in general don’t favor us, Jungkook. I don’t have bruises or anything; that’s what they look for. They think that all harm done only leaves visible marks,” you sigh, knowing that there’s not much you can do. “There’s no other witness but you and that itself… might not look good. If I do file a case, he’ll just bring up our past, my past, and taint my reputation. That’ll just ruin me and everything I worked hard for will be for nothing.”

“But you can’t just let him get away with this, ___,” he insists, feeling unusually emotional now. “He hurt you. And what if he does it again? Telling the police can keep him away. I’ll make sure of that.”

The urgency in his voice is something new to you. But you also know he’s right. Jungkook’s family has connections that run deep. He can very well seek revenge for you for all he wants but he wants your permission, he wants to know it’s what you want.

“I… I can’t risk it,” you say. “If by some miracle the case is successful, he’ll just spend a few months in jail or do community service then he’ll be out. He would lose more and I would be the cause of all that. And what if he tries to get revenge? How do I win?”

At his silence, you continue. “That’s right, I can’t.”

“But… don’t you want to fight?” He asks, almost desperately. His tone is low, as if he’s trying to convince himself that fighting back is the answer. “Don’t you want to make sure that he won’t do it again to you?”

“I do, but what if I lose everything in the process, what then?” You counter. “I… I’m not strong enough for that, Jungkook. That’s not a battle I can fight, not when I’m alone here. Not when I’m also just trying to get by.”

You look back at his eyes, helpless and apologetic now, and at this time, this companionship is what you need. It’s as if he’s telling you with them that you may think you’re on your own but you aren’t. Even as you shiver from within, you don’t feel so alone with him next to you.

“I… I was seeing him for a year but things weren’t serious. He probably just wanted to scare me, to assert control because he lacks it in other aspects of his life. Cowards do that, I guess,” you shrug, trying to reason to yourself how someone you knew fairly well could do something like that to you.

People change, you suppose. Or maybe he’s always been like that; it takes a while sometimes for the demons to come out.

“But cowards don’t have a right to do that,” Jungkook reasons. “They don’t deserve to just walk away and not deal with the consequences.”

“They don’t. But I don’t deserve to suffer more,” you point out. “The things he said… that’s probably enough revenge on his end, I guess. If he wanted to hurt me, well then, he did.”

There’s an emptiness in your eyes that Jungkook sees. There’s a tinge of submission, as if you accept the pain even if you don’t think you deserve it. And maybe that’s why you’re choosing to fight this battle this way. We can’t do anything about how people hurt us, but we choose how much more we let them do it.

“Prove him wrong, then,” Jungkook says. “He doesn’t get to tell you that you’ll be miserable your whole life. So chase what makes you happy. And let yourself be loved.”

It’s permission that he doesn’t have a right to grant, but he supposes that if there’s any way you can defeat that man’s voice in your head, it’s by searching for the things you want and fighting to keep them.

“One day,” you manage to smile at him. “I’ll do those one day.”

It’s like a promise you’re making to him just as you make it to yourself. Jungkook can’t think right now what that would mean. Finding your happiness could lead you anywhere; it sure could lead you away from him.

“So what happens now?” He asks, hoping there’s a way he could help you get through this.

“I continue living my life and not let this define me,” you shrug, half believing in the power of just pushing through it. “I’ll probably be anxious and paranoid for a while but this is what I can do for now. I’ll just be careful and… learn how to deal with all this one day at a time, I guess.”

“And I’ll have Mr. Ri drive you home every night, at least for these next few weeks. Do you need to move houses?”

“Chi-won doesn’t actually know where I live. I never let him come over. I don’t really like having people in my house.”

Jungkook hums to himself. He isn’t that different from you, it seems. But he takes your word for it, not wanting to impose. There are so many things he wants to do, like ruin that man’s life because things like that can’t go unpunished but he trusts you. At the end of the day, it’s your call, and he respects whatever you decide. He’ll just do what he can to protect you, even if he’ll be worried like hell from here on out, an emotion he’s slowly accepting, knowing what that implies.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all that,” you say amidst the silence. “And that you have to deal with this now. I don’t… I don’t want you to think that I’m weak and that I don’t stand up for myself.”

“You know you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “And not fighting back doesn’t make you weak. I guess staying right where you are is a way of fighting, too.”

“I have people around… somehow,” you comfort yourself. “I’m gonna be fine. I have to believe I will.”

Jungkook nods and manages a smile. At this point, he thinks all he can give you is support and encouragement. He’ll continue to do what he can to keep you safe without disregarding your requests, but staying right where he is with you might just be another way to do that.

“Do you want to pass by somewhere before heading home?” He asks, knowing it’s getting quite late. “A restaurant to grab a drink or something? You didn’t get to have dessert so maybe a cafe?”

“A convenience store is fine,” you smile, knowing the treats that would make you feel better.

Jungkook chuckles, as it’s a place he didn’t really expect you’d want to go to after an experience like the one you just had. But it’s you and he should be used to you surprising him, so he nods and gestures towards the car.

It takes five minutes for you to get there and he looks around and asks what you want to have.

“A cup noodle,” you answer, walking towards the aisle where they’re shelved. “Do you want some? I mean, you eat these things, right?”

“Of course I do,” he scowls at you, picking up one himself. “I just… don’t eat it at a convenience store.”

“Because you don’t go to one?”

“I do. I’m not a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how to do ordinary people things.”

“You mean commoner things,” you raise an eyebrow. “Or plebeian activities. Or non-heir stuff.”

“Whatever. I won’t even defend myself to you,” he huffs, giving in because seeing you amused is a welcome sight.

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” you teasingly smile. “I’m just… laughing at you in my mind.”

You walk towards another aisle and leave him with a smile he’s glad to be making now. He follows and watches you pick up a few more things before you head to the counter where he manages to bring out his card first and pay.

“That's all I can do,” he shrugs after you thank him.

“You’re doing so much for me already,” you assure him. “Taking me somewhere so I could cry, making sure I get home safe… staying with me.”

“That’s not even enough to—”

“You don’t know how to accept gratitude, do you?” You ask as you blow on your noodles. “I notice how you brush it off when someone thanks you.”

“Not used to hearing it, I guess,” he shrugs, not thinking it was something you’d pick up, although there’s no lie.

It’s always been hard for him to say things - that he’s sorry, that he’s thankful, that it’s okay. You, of all people, are the one pointing that out.

“You should be. Because I’ll say it again.” You turn to him and meet his eyes. “Thank you, Jungkook. I thought I’d just go through this alone but I’m not. And that’s… that’s something I’m not used to.”

“You should be,” he repeats your words. “There are some things you shouldn’t be going through on your own. So if there’s anything else you need, you let me know, okay?”

There’s sincerity in his voice as he speaks. You’re used to the low or stern or commanding tone, not this soft and worried one. But it’s the comfort you didn’t know you needed. After spending all that time earlier crying and feeling afraid, being with Jungkook in this bright-lit convenience store is the unexpected warmth that you’re glad you let him give you.

“I will,” you smile. “You know, this is the longest I’ve spoken informally to you. It feels a little weird.”

He laughs as he gets to the same realization. But for him, it almost feels natural.

“It would be weirder if you spoke formally after all that,” he says. “Like I said, if it isn’t about work then I don’t mind.”

You hum in response, not wanting to dwell on the implication. You’re with him after-hours, at a convenience store - that he personally drove you to - where you’re both having cup noodles and soda. This ironically feels more intimate than being in bed with some guy.

You decide to have your dessert, which is really just chocopie, and you mentally curse Chi-won for making you miss the sweet dishes from dinner. But still, you know this one could easily cheer you up. You give one to Jungkook, and his amused tone catches your attention.

“Oh wow, I haven’t had one of these in years,” he says, eating it one bite. “Mother used to give this to me all the time when I was a kid because her best friend owned the company that makes them. There was a time I’d have it as dessert after every meal.”

“Seriously?” You giggle. “That is so weird. This is my favorite. My mom would always buy this for me. When she worked at a school in Busan, she would give it as a treat while I waited for her at the library. That would just always make my day.”

“Hmm, it’s a good snack,” he says, smiling as he takes another piece that you offer and recalls how he used to have this everyday. “So she’d pick you up at the library? Was that your favorite place at school?”

“Hmm, not really, but it reminded me of the one I used to go to,” you reply. “When we lived in Seoul when I was young, there was this family-run library for children in the neighborhood. It was very cozy, with lots of soft chairs and reading nooks on the walls. There were these huge stuffed toys that you could lie on while reading so it felt like someone was hugging you. It had warm lights, not like those usual bright ones. There was this mural of the characters from the books they had,” you narrate, smiling as you remember the days you spent there.

“Mom would pick me up from school during her lunch break then drop me off at the library where her friend volunteered at and I’d wait until she got off work. When we moved to Busan, I kept looking for it. The one at the school wasn’t the same so I didn’t enjoy it as much, but there was nowhere else to go. Eventually I just got used to it, but the chocopie always made the wait worth it.”

It’s the most you’ve ever told him about yourself and you’re surprised at how easy it was for you to do that. He did tell you a little bit about his childhood earlier though, and you’d like to think it’s your way of returning that kind of vulnerability; a story for a story, a piece of your childhood for a snapshot of his.

You look at him and the small smile on his face. Perhaps he’s thinking the same.

“So you like reading books, then?”

“Not really, actually,” you say, earning you a confused look. “I read all the picture books they had. Those are what I liked. And they had these coloring books and paper dolls and I’d spend hours just working on those. Being there made me feel safe, too; it was like my playground, you know?”

“It’s good you had that, then. Do you still visit that place? The one in your old neighborhood?”

“It shut down years ago, sometime before I returned to Seoul to work,” you sigh. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to it. The couple who ran it passed away and no one was interested in continuing it because it wasn’t profitable. But the community center nearby has a small library and I go there sometimes, when I’m really upset.”

“And read picture books?” He chuckles.

“Yes, actually,” you smile. “Memories are powerful and we need to let the good ones win. My childhood wasn’t the greatest but I felt like I was in a different world whenever I was in a library so being in one, even as a grown up, reminds me that there are still places where I’m welcome, where I can feel safe, you know? It reminds me that the world hasn’t completely turned dark. I’ve got to hold onto those to not lose myself.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I… I don’t think I’ve been to a playground in years before today. Other than the one that father built in the backyard at least. And I rarely even see it because I’m rarely there. I guess I just…. Let myself get lost.”

“Well, I hope going to one earlier somehow made you find yourself. Or at least reminded you of those good old days, the days when you felt free and safe and happy.”

Jungkook thinks about what he’d felt earlier, that much as being in a playground again brought him back in time, all he kept thinking about was you - alone in that car while you let all your emotions out. He wanted to comfort you but he didn’t know how, and he thinks that maybe it isn’t about finding himself but learning what he’s capable of, and that after all these years, maybe he’s still capable of caring for another person, and maybe that person is you.

“It did,” he hums, meeting your eyes.

There’s more light in them this time and he wishes it would stay this way. He’d seen you cry months ago and it wasn’t a good feeling, especially because you’d done so because of him. This time, he feels powerless, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

He gets to be with you now though. Perhaps that’s the difference.

You start cleaning up and it’s his signal for both of you to head out.

It takes him ten minutes to drive to your place and a small part of you doesn’t want to leave. Even in the silence, you felt calm, something that you hadn’t expected to feel around him, considering his default tense disposition and usual detachment. But there’s something about his presence, about him just being there - he’s not trying too hard to comfort you, he’s not imposing, he’s also not invalidating your feelings. What matters is you’re not alone, and other than him making that effort, it’s also about you, allowing him to do that, something you don’t always do as well.

“Thank you again,” you say once the car has stopped.

He nods in acknowledgment then turns to you. “It might be best if you take a leave tomorrow, and by that I mean staying home for safety reasons.”

A day to just process everything isn’t such a bad idea, so you agree.

“If it’s not too much for your friends, maybe they could drive up here so they can be with you. Having people around you that you trust might help in making you feel better.”

“I’ll ask them. I don’t want them to worry but I do need them. So thanks, Jungkook. I appreciate it.”

You exit the car and turn around to wave him goodbye. He smiles as you do, and it’s a sight that helps you sleep later that night - after the long bath and another crying session, after the phone call with your friends who promised to be here in the morning, after the time you spend just hugging your pillow, hoping that you’d stop being scared.

But thinking of Jungkook now makes you feel better and you realize the change again - thinking about him now makes you a little braver.

You spend that weekend wrapped up in your best friends’ arms. They arrived on Friday morning with some pork bone soup and seafood that they cooked for lunch and dinner. In the middle of the day, Jungkook texted you and asked how you were doing, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face, which prompted a conversation about your little crush that you didn’t expect to get tense, with Jimin stating that while Jungkook did help you, being attracted to your boss is complicated and would lead to heartbreak.

You insisted that it was harmless - a half lie, as you hadn’t thought much about it in that sense - and that it’s not something you plan on nurturing. You’re gonna leave the company one day anyway, and you won’t have to deal with him after.

The succeeding days were spent just at home, with you feeling lighter, until Sunday evening when they had to leave, and you felt a little lonely again.

You try to let that feeling go once you enter Jungkook’s penthouse on Monday morning, knowing that with a day off, you’ll have a lot to make up for and you can’t let anything distract you from your tasks.

That includes the man himself, as he exits his home gym in sweatpants and a dri-fit shirt, the sweat sticking to his body that’s got his chest accentuated. His hair is damp and he’s panting; it’s not exactly the sight you wanted to be greeted with, considering all the thoughts in your head these past few days. You’re reminded that just last week, you’d tried to keep your distance and now, he’s making it incredibly hard for you to do that.

“Hey, how do you feel?” He asks as he takes the glass of water you set for him. “Did you get proper rest?”

“Yes, I did, Mr. Jeon,” you reply.

“Hmm, we’re back to that again, huh?”

It takes you a while but you pick up that he’s referring to the formalities.

“I’m back on the clock, sir,” you point out. “You are my boss and I need to address you accordingly.”

It’s not a reminder he wanted, given how he’s been worried sick about you since Thursday night. Even an hour of boxing after he got home that evening couldn’t rid him of his anger. He wished he’d noticed how uncomfortable you were at the restaurant; he’s been paying attention to you anyway but he just got so caught up with impressing the festival organizers that he missed out on the signs. If he’d noticed, he would’ve gotten to you earlier and things wouldn’t have escalated.

He had to control himself from punching that man’s face the moment he saw how close he was to you. Your plea of letting him go was the only thing that kept Jungkook from ruining that man’s life because he really could. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it - people like that need to be punished, but it’s people like you who remind him that fighting takes different forms, and you’re the only one who can define what that means.

But it also doesn’t mean that he can’t get angry for you and he’ll probably feel that for a while. Knowing how you are, he knows you wouldn’t want him to pity you either, so he’ll be what he can be, and that’s someone whom you feel safe around. Regardless, maybe the reminder of your roles in each other’s lives is necessary; it’s what he needs to keep himself from doing more, or wanting to be more.

Jungkook finally acknowledges your statement with a nod and then heads to the bathroom for his shower. Shortly after, you walk towards his closet and prepare his outfits for the week. He meets you in the dining room once he’s dressed, and like clockwork, you fix his tie and his suit.

The effect is minimal but somehow, you’ve found comfort in the routine. What once was a tense and nerve-wracking act is now something automatic and essential for you. In a way, it reinforces your place in his life, but the short distance reminds you that he may be faraway or detached in some aspects but physically, he’s so close. It’s a double-edged sword, really. Some days it’s good, some days it isn’t. Today, it’s the former, and as you look up and meet his eyes, the softness in them says he thinks the same.

You go over your usual with him while munching on some pastries that Mr. Ri was ordered to buy and bring up. The ride to the office is filled with discussions on the upcoming year-end events. When you arrive, you attend two straight meetings before having another one over lunch. You accompany Jungkook to a store opening located in one of their properties after that and it’s 4PM by the time you’re able to sit on your desk for more than 30 seconds. You’ve got two hours to finish what you can today but you find yourself spacing out every few minutes.

Perhaps it’s because it’s the first time since Friday that you’re on your own. Your best friends made sure not to leave you by yourself for those three days - Soomin held you while you slept and silently cried in her arms, and Jimin hugged you for much of the day. Their affection was what you badly needed, and now that you’re without it, somehow you feel incomplete and anxious and somewhat unstable.

Scenes are hazy in your mind. You’re at least thankful they’re not vivid anymore unlike a few nights ago, but the dim lights and the stench of the alley come to you without warning, and you suddenly freeze in panic. Your fingers tremble as you try to type away, your eyes unblinking as the tears coat them, and you feel sick to your stomach that you want to just be buried in the covers at this moment.

The door opening causes you to jerk in your seat and Jungkook stops mid-sentence to walk over to you.

“Hey, ___. You can go home,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

“I… I don’t know if that’ll help,” you admit. “I don’t know if being alone is what I need.”

You go home to an empty apartment just like he does, he reminds himself. He knows what that’s like. It’s why he spends most weekends in the clubs where it’s loud and crowded; those somehow mask the emptiness that can get tiring when all he has is himself. Being on your own is good sometimes; sometimes it also isn’t.

But Jungkook doesn’t know what he can offer you. His presence isn’t something exactly enticing nor comforting; he wouldn’t wanna be with him, too, if he was in a similar position.

“Is there a way that your friends can spend another few days with you? What about your mother?” He asks.

“They have lives back home,” you sigh. “I… I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to force it if you aren’t,” he insists. “I may not know much but I know enough that these things take time. I…”

I wish I could do more for you, he wants to say.

“I don’t have anything urgent for today,” he says instead. “You can clock off now and Mr. Ri and I can take you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” you say immediately.

“I insist,” he replies. “At least for the next few days until we’re sure that you’re not in danger.”

You nod, not having the energy to reason with him. At least you don’t have to think about how to commute home without risking being too close to strangers.

You pack your things and get in the car, with Jungkook letting you bask in the mellow sounds of the radio while he doodles on his leather notebook. You’re tempted to ask him what he’s drawing just to add some more noise but you decide against it, choosing instead to close your eyes and force unpleasant images away from your mind so you can train yourself to do it this time.

It works. Except, it’s the smile of the man next to you that you see, and when you open your eyes, it’s the same thing that greets you.

He chuckles when you look around and realize that you’re home.

“I was trying to wake you but you wouldn’t budge,” he explains. “Are you just tired or you haven’t been sleeping well?”

“Oh, I just kept waking up last night. I guess that’s why. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “Just try to get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod and exit the car, feeling out of sorts even as you enter your apartment and know you’re safe inside. You nibble on some leftover pizza and try to entertain yourself with the variety shows on TV but you end up spacing out. You curl in bed, trying as much to feel comfort from your pillow that lays stiff next to you.

You’re not big on physical affection, and most days you’re glad you aren’t because you don’t get any of it anyway, but tonight, it’s what you need. Tonight, you just want that warmth, you want a body to curl into and arms to pull you close. You want hands to caress you and soft lips to plant kisses on the places that hurt. You want to hear soft laughter and random musings and plans for the next day.

The vision ends when you realize that you haven’t experienced much of that before. There were moments during the months you spent with the men you’ve dated, but the feeling of safety was lacking, the warmth wasn’t warm enough, and the desire wasn’t overwhelming. You realize that it wasn’t intimacy you feared; losing it or finding out it wasn’t enough is what you were afraid of, and it’s why you always pulled away. No one ever seemed worth it to try or to stay a little longer for.

You sigh to yourself as you will the tears not to fall. The loneliness can get to you sometimes, especially on days when there’s a kind of pain that’s hard to talk about and all you need is comfortable silence and understanding without words. But you try to push through. You’ve been on your own for so long anyway. Even when you had someone, you still came home to an empty apartment and you still felt like it was enough when it was just you around.

You’re unsure if the desire for something more is just because of what you experienced, if the forced closeness and Chi-won’s burning touch hurt you too much or if you’ve been wanting that intimacy all along. Or if someone’s made you realize that you’re ready for it, that it’s actually worth it.

You manage to fall asleep and drag yourself off the bed to head to Jungkook’s apartment the next day. You drop him off at a restaurant for a breakfast meeting before going to the office where you get to work. It’s a busy day that has you meeting with different departments and coordinating with the organizing teams for the upcoming end-of-year events.

It’s mid-afternoon when you decide to go to the outdoor garden just right off the elevators, surprised to find Jungkook standing by the railings. Dressed in a dark gray suit, he’s got his hands in his pockets while he looks out at the busy streets, and you wonder what goes on in his mind when he looks at views like this.

The sound of the door closing catches his attention, and he turns around, surprised as well to see you here.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes, I just needed a breather.”

“Am I giving you too much work again?” He shakes his head, finding humor in it now after you pointed out one time how he once gave you so many things to do.

“It’s part of the job, Mr. Jeon. I’ve accepted that now,” you giggle, walking towards where he is then standing some feet away. “But it’s been a busy day and I just needed some air.”

“You can also take a longer break if that’s what you need.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “The busyness helps. I’ll get tired and hopefully fall asleep easily and then do it all again tomorrow and the next day.”

It’s a strategy Jungkook knows well because it’s something he does. Being a perfectionist helps because then, he can work himself to the bone without realizing it until he’s entered his apartment. One glass of whiskey and then he’s falling asleep on the couch.

Weekends are tough, which is why partying and hooking up is his go-to. His best friends have asked him a few times what he’s striving towards, what he’s looking forward to and he couldn’t answer. At one point he stopped wondering, but now he wonders about you.

“What do you look forward to, then?” He asks.

“Vacation, I guess,” you shrug. “I get to be with my friends and family but then that flies too quickly then I’m back to this routine. So maybe… I look forward to the day when I start savoring the moment, when I start enjoying what’s in front of me, when I start… feeling less alone.”

The last words come out subconsciously, prompting you to turn away out of shame. It’s not an easy thing to admit. You wanted this anyway. You chose to leave home to pay back a debt and then decided to stay because you wanted to prove yourself. You chose to not commit to anyone because the pain of loneliness is much easier to bear than the pain of losing someone. This is on you, and you deal with the consequences everyday.

Jungkook doesn’t look confused nor curious. There’s a look in his eyes that you catch before his gaze returns to the streets below. It’s understanding; you realize he knows exactly what you’re talking about. And perhaps he’s on the same boat - letting life just pass him by despite the craziness of it all, perhaps wondering when he’ll stop to smell the roses or watch the sunset or listen to the birds. Maybe like you, he’s wondering when he’ll get to do those with a hand to hold and a body to curl into.

The silence is cut short when you’re alerted that Jungkook’s meeting with the Arts Center project teams starts in 15 minutes. You remind him about it then you both head out and go to your desks to prepare. You’re seated on your chair when you look inside his room, meeting his eyes as he looks outside towards you. There’s a small smile on his face that gives you comfort. It’s soft and assuring, and it’s definitely what you need.

Maybe you can start with this, you think, as he nods at you then meets you at your desk to walk towards the conference room. Maybe these are the things you can start savoring before the day comes that you have to leave this place - these moments of quiet assurance, of understanding, of subtle comfort that tells you that despite the walls between you, he’ll be looking out for you even from afar.

The weeks fly by like a blur.

The Thursday after the incident, Jungkook informed you that he got word from the restaurant manager that Chi-won returned to his home in Mokpo to stay with his parents. The next day, you took the train home to Daegu to be with your mom. She hugged you that night as you cried to her, feeling the strength that she’s had all these years, knowing that you have to be just like her and that this time, you have to be strong for her and for yourself.

Spending time with her, Min-woo, and the girls was rejuvenating, and they promised to visit you in Seoul more regularly. They were in your apartment two weekends after, and it truly felt like you’ve become the family you’ve always wanted to have.

Work continued to be hectic as the year-end activities approached. The busyness definitely helped in moving past what you experienced, allowing you to detach from the memories. You gained the strength to keep fighting the way you wanted, and the people around you continued to be supportive and respectful.

Despite all that went on, you managed in organizing the events while also attending to some that Jungkook was invited to.

The first one was organized by the VP’s Office for the partners of projects that it managed, with the other departments attending as well. It was well-organized, and CEO Jeon himself expressed his satisfaction with how the event came together. Jungkook’s speech was impressive. He ran it with you multiple times and he was able to shake off the anxiety by the time he got to the stage. His eloquence enraptured you; so did the way he looked in another Kim Taehyung-customized textured black suit that had you constantly internally smacking yourself because of all the times that Yoongi caught you staring. You were in full denial about your little crush but knowing your friend, he probably had you figured out, and he’d been kind enough not to push it.

The next event was a big one, as the company hosts an annual fellowship dinner for all its partners, which you had a big role in organizing. A few of you were housed in the serviced apartment building near the office leading up to it, as per Jungkook’s instructions, given that he didn’t want any of you commuting or driving home late at night. You remember how he’d said that he couldn’t risk any of his staff’s safety so casually, and you didn’t think he could be more attractive than that moment. Until, of course, when he showed up in his charcoal suit and parted hair, confidently entertaining the guests and delivering another impressive message. You snuck in a few looks later in the evening as he intently watched a ballad performer on stage, his legs crossed as he drank the flute of champagne and licked the remnants of it on his lips, causing your throat to dry up and promise yourself that you’ll get rid of this crush soon enough.

It doesn’t happen, as the final event of the year rolls around. The fellowship dinner this time is with all the staff, including some from the Southeast Asian office. Jungkook goes for a cream-colored suit this time, a light and clean look that makes him look fresh yet sophisticated. You managed to be professional every time he called for you, and you suppose it’s all the stress getting to you, but being near him made you a little anxious - there was a bit of giddiness that you didn’t want to show, but he somehow also calmed you down. The fact that he kept offering you water and making sure you had something to eat didn’t help. You blurted out that you didn’t expect him to be as thoughtful as he was, and when he said that neither did he but that you brought out that side of him after the incident at the restaurant, you had to keep your cool and act unbothered. He looked shy after, and you suppose that he didn’t mean to say it. But he did, and the words kept you up for the nights after.

You know you’re entering prohibited territory at this point and you wish there’s a way out before you get deep into the woods. You let Soomin and Jimin remind you everyday that you can’t nurture the crush, that the attraction can’t be anything more, that there are serious implications if you did, and that you’re gonna have to get over this as soon as possible. It’s Yoongi who tells you to not overthink it, that the more you force yourself out, the harder it actually becomes.

“There are things you just let happen,” he’d said. “That’s how they eventually fall away.”

“That’s how they get worse, too,” you responded.

“They could go either way, but resisting often ends up hurting more.”

You decide to just let the wave take you along while you train yourself to savor the moments for what they are without giving meaning to them. A smile is just a smile, a look is just a look. You know you’ll be without them one day. Just a few more months until you leave the company, and you won’t have a reason to be around Jungkook anymore. At least before then, you can hold onto whatever memories you retain, and you can learn to look back at them with gratitude that during your hardest moments, he made you feel safe.

It’s now towards the end of December and it’s the Tuesday before Jungkook is set to leave for his three-week vacation tomorrow. He called for an early dinner with the team at his new favorite Italian restaurant, wanting to properly say goodbye before you’ll all be without him for a while.

“Savor it, it won't last long,” he teases. “The holidays will be over soon and then I’ll be back before you know it. So enjoy this time that I’m not around.”

“What do you mean, sir? We’ll obviously miss you!” Do-hyun exclaims. “Mostly the once-in-a-blue-moon lunch and dinner treats and the occasional funny remarks but yeah, we’ll definitely feel your absence around.”

Her exaggerated smile lets everyone know she’s teasing, even if you know deep down, she’s telling the truth. Jungkook’s come around these past months, spending a bit of time with each team member and learning their strengths and weaknesses, mentoring the young ones, and sending pastries or dessert during the most hectic days. He’s still serious most of the time and doesn’t join the occasional post-work dinner that Do-hyun guilt trips you into going. There’s always so much to do and his perfectionism has rubbed off on everyone else, but he has his moments. And you know the team appreciates his efforts, too.

“We’ll see. Maybe when I come back you guys will want another boss or something,” he baits.

“That was like, the first two months of you in your role, Mr. Jeon, but we’re over it,” Do-hyun admits, causing Manager Lee to panic.

He glares at her the way Chin-sun does, but you sit there giggling. Jungkook’s chuckling, too, unable to hide his amusement at the young one’s bluntness.

She apologizes but Jungkook brushes it off, saying those first months weren’t his best. You don’t miss the way he looks at you, though, and you’ve trained yourself to not think too much about it, the way you’ve trained yourself these past weeks to just accept his smiles and glances as they are.

“I also took you all here to thank you for this past half-year,” Jungkook continues. “It was tough. I was tough. And it was a big adjustment for everyone but you all showed how good you are as individuals and as a team and I… I needed that.”

“You led us very well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee assures him. “And tough love works sometimes.”

“I suppose it does, and it goes both ways,” Jungkook replies. “And so to thank you, I got you all a little Christmas gift, something you can enjoy when you go on your respective breaks.”

At his words, you distribute the letter envelopes to the team and they open them up, gasping in surprise and in obvious delight.

Jungkook instructed you last week to purchase two vouchers at a luxurious spa for each staff member, hoping that a bit of relaxation can help you all. You were speechless when he said which specific package he wanted, and even if you know the price is just change for him, it was still more than you expected.

“A body scrub, massage, facial, and high tea, on top of the use of their super fancy amenities?” Do-hyun enumerates, her eyes widening in awe. “That’s a full day of being luxurious and feeling rich! Mr. Jeon, this is amazing! I’m totally going by myself and going twice!”

You laugh at her antics, not surprised she’d go that route.

“This is so timely, sir,” Manager Lee says. “My wife and I are celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary next month. This is gonna be a good date.”

“And it’s my birthday in a few weeks,” Chin-sun adds. “This would be so lovely to do with my husband.”

“My girlfriend and I fought so I think she’ll forgive me after I take her with me,” Yohan says, earning him a few laughs.

“What about you, ___? Inviting anyone special?” Do-hyun asks.

“Yes, my mom,” you answer. “She’s visiting next week, then we’ll go home to Daegu for the holidays. I’m sure she’d love this.”

“Ugh, of course. Parents come first,” she sighs.

You laugh her comment and turn to Jungkook, thanking him again for the gift. He thanks you for organizing them, too, and the dinner proceeds with candid spa stories and what you’re all doing for the holidays.

Everyone heads home from the restaurant except for you and Jungkook who return to the office to run through last minute instructions and reminders before he flies in the morning.

You’ve got over a week before your own vacation starts where you’ll spend a few days in Wando, Min-woo’s hometown, but that also means needing to get a lot done before that, and then returning to backlogs after but you’ll worry about that next year. Right now, you’ve got documents that need Jungkook’s signatures and some memos you need him to approve.

It’s another hour until you finish, even if a big part of you doesn’t want him to go just yet. Three weeks feels so long when seeing him five times a week for 12 hours was your everyday these past six months. It’s gonna feel a little odd not having your morning routines and car rides. You remind yourself that you’re gonna have to start getting used to that, given that you’re gonna be letting it all go soon enough. Still, it doesn’t mean you won’t miss it. It doesn’t mean you won’t miss him.

“Have you packed everything, Mr. Jeon? Do you have enough coats? You can get pretty cold. What about all your documents? Did you—”

“Yes, I have,” he chuckles, finding it endearing how you’re speaking too fast and making sure he’s got everything ready.

It’s not your job since this is a personal trip but he supposes that lines have blurred a while back, and he won’t deny that he’s enjoying this bit, especially seeing you worry. He wonders if you’ll miss him, too, but he won’t risk asking you even just to tease.

“I’ve gone on trips before, ___. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Just making sure that things are okay. Because I’m definitely gonna be the one you’ll call if they aren’t.”

“Fair point,” he laughs. “But everything’s good. Hoseok has been bugging me and making sure as well. He doesn’t want anything to mess up this trip.”

“It’s really sweet that he insisted you join him and A-yeong,” you gush. “They love their winter trips and I love seeing all their photos afterwards. I can just imagine how beautiful these ones are gonna be.”

“Well, he says he misses me,” Jungkook shrugs. “I was away for a long time and frankly, we’re more colleagues here than family, so he insisted I go with them. But I also think they just want a photographer because the sights are obviously gonna be gorgeous and I happen to take pretty good photos, you know?”

“I wouldn’t argue against that,” you laugh. “Surely being the third-wheel photographer has its perks?”

“We’ll see. I’ll definitely take advantage.”

“I’m sure they’ll spoil you somehow,” you say. “And you get to enjoy the landscape and the fresh air and the northern lights. Those are definitely gonna look good in pictures.”

“I’ll make sure to take them, then. And show you,” he smiles. “But yeah, I’m looking forward to a different scenery.”

“Where would you have gone if they didn’t ask you to come?”

“Not sure. Maybe to Brazil with Tae and Seokjin. Or somewhere like Hong Kong; I went there last year on my own. This time is gonna be different.”

“And you’ll have companions. That would be nice.”

“It would. That’s different, too, but I’m sure it will be good.”

You think about Jungkook spending his break on his own in a foreign country, navigating it by himself, meeting people, being left alone in his own thoughts. Maybe an occasional companion for the night. Or every night. Perhaps drinking on a rooftop bar to welcome the new year. But just him and no one else. You wonder how lonely that might feel, and you’re glad that at least this time, he can be around people who truly care about him.

Jungkook thinks of how else he can keep you longer, knowing he’ll be without you for three weeks which for him, is an extremely long time.

“Remember to enjoy your time there, okay? Don’t think too much about work,” you pout, knowing he still will.

“___, I’ll be on vacation but I won’t be on a break. You know I’ll still expect updates until next week. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Of course you will,” you tease. “I’ll make sure to keep you posted. I’ll send emails for approvals, maybe call if something urgent comes up.”

“You’re the only one allowed to bother me, about anything. Remember that.”

He says the words with such finality, as if there’s no way for you to resist. You wouldn’t anyway. Other than knowing that you’ll definitely be bugging him for approvals and such, you also would want to know how he’s doing, if he’s enjoying his time away and if he’s getting enough rest.

“I will,” you assure him. “So, uh. You should head out and get some sleep. It’s gonna be a long flight.”

He nods, knowing that he needs to let you go this time. He decides against offering to take you home - you’ve been insisting that it’s not necessary, and that you’ve been fine with your bus rides to your neighborhood in the evening. He doesn’t want to sound desperate so he finally says goodbye.

He lingers, as he doesn’t move for a good half minute and just stands there by your desk, giving you a look to express things that he can’t ever say.

“Goodbye, Jungkook. Take care of yourself out there,” you finally say.

“Goodbye, ___. You do the same. I’ll see you when I get back.”

It’s another few seconds before he manages to start walking away. One last glance then he leaves. And he convinces himself that the sullen look in your eyes means that you’ll be thinking about him while he’s away, the same way he’ll be thinking about you, perhaps while he looks at the sky, knowing it’s the same one you’ll be looking at, and then you wouldn’t feel so far away.

The time on your watch reads 11:10. The plane should be leaving anytime soon, and you wonder how Jungkook is doing, if he was able to sleep well and eat at the airport lounge. You at least know he got there on time. Mr. Ri arrived some time ago to say that he’s dropped Jungkook off and that he was instructed to take you to work and bring you home until your boss comes back from his vacation. You didn’t argue, knowing that it’s Jungkook’s way of making things convenient for you, given all the responsibilities you have to carry while he’s away.

But other than that, you don’t know how he’s doing without any update from him. Which is silly for you to even expect. This is a personal trip, after all, and even if the line has somehow blurred after everything that’s happened between you two, you shouldn’t be waiting for some message about him having boarded or something. You’ll maybe just wait for his email asking for updates about his father’s comments on the policies that Jungkook drafted for approval. Or once A-yeong has posted on social media that they’ve landed.

You shake your head, knowing that liquidating expenses is more important right now than your boss. But then your phone beeps and the smile on your face is immediate.

[From: VP Jeon] The plane arrived late so we just boarded. I’ll get some work done during the flight but I just emailed you an end-of-year message for staff. Can you check if it sounds good?

[To: VP Jeon] I will, sir. Have a safe flight.

[From: VP Jeon] Thanks. I’ll let you know when we’ve landed.

Simple and professional, you think, but somehow the thought of him messaging you before takeoff - even if it’s work-related - has you feeling giddy. There’s no desire for more. Just knowing he’s okay and also still thinking of you has you satisfied.

You don’t get to wipe off the smile quick enough for Yoongi not to see, as you hear him clearing his throat, prompting you to look up and see his amused face.

“I was just checking in to see how you’re coping with your boss away but it seems you’re doing fine,” he starts. “Unless… he’s the reason why you’re smiling.”

Your silence confirms his suspicion, and he merely laughs in response.

“Yah! You’re supposed to reprimand me,” you pout at him.

“And what would that do?” He challenges. “You’re an adult. ___. You feel what you feel, you do what you do. It’s up to you how you want this to play out.”

“Well, I’ll tell you how it will play out,” you say. “I will continue doing what I’m supposed to do, wait for the Arts Center to open, resign, then never have to see or think about him again. And I’ll be content with that.”

Yoongi doesn’t press or counter you, choosing instead to just agree with your plan and be the supportive friend you need him to be, even if your eventual resignation will make him incredibly sad.

You’re very particular with the people you let in, with the people you allow to become an important part of your life. He’s lucky he didn’t scare you away for you to distance yourself from him, and though you didn’t return his feelings, he supposes that’s better. He gets to be someone you feel comfortable enough to be with, to be honest with, and that’s more than he can ask for. However you choose to approach whatever it is you’re feeling for Jungkook, his friend who’s just as cautious when it comes to people, Yoongi will just be there like he has all these years.

“Anyway, is that all you came here for? To know how I was doing?” You ask.

“I sent you the designs and proposals I need Jungkook to go through,” Yoongi responds. “He said to submit them and he’ll review those while he’s there. I wasn’t going to since I want him to actually rest and enjoy his vacation but he’ll be on my ass about it.”

He explains his vision, which you note down so you can articulate it when Jungkook asks. Yoongi leaves you to work on all your tasks, making sure to send you a teasing smile on his way out.

You continue with your day, ending it with an email to your boss about what transpired and the documents he needs to approve. He responds past 1AM the next day during his layover in Amsterdam. Two hours after that, he messages you that they’ve arrived in Denmark and will have dinner before going to bed.

It’s the day after, on a Friday, when he schedules a video call with you that has you fixing your hair and retouching your lipstick before picking up. He shows up on the screen donned in a white jumper, his unstyled hair making him look cozy and much more boyish than you’re used to. You let yourself be familiarized with the scene, with him seated by a desk with the large window behind him showing clear blue skies and colorful structures. He seems to do the same, as the silence lingers for the next half a minute or so.

He speaks up first, greeting you and asking how you’ve been.

“I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. Getting a lot done on the post-event admin work,” you reply. “How about you? You look refreshed and relaxed. That’s a new sight to see.”

“It’s probably the Copenhagen air,” he says. “It’s gorgeous out here. And the buildings are beautiful. We’re staying at this nice boutique hotel that Hoseok and I explored yesterday. It’s giving us ideas for a serviced apartment with this kind of design. Or maybe villas by the mountains.”

“Oh, talking about work while on vacation, I see,” you shake your head. “I bet A-yeong regrets inviting you to join them.”

“Maybe another day of Hoseok and I just going to hotels and random buildings and she already will,” he laughs. “It’s work but also not. It’s nice to feel inspired by the surroundings. I realized that doesn’t really happen when I’m there.”

“Oh I’m sure. You’re VP Jeon when you’re here and there, you’re just a regular person, a traveler, an architect. As long as you’re getting the rest that you deserve,” you smile.

“That’s true,” he nods, taking your words in.

He’s just him while he walks past the canal, while he explores the city and its vibrant structures; he’s just a man in a foreign country who doesn’t have to connect with people, he just has to connect with what’s around him.

“So, let’s go over your email and the things I need to review and approve,” he continues.

Your hour-long meeting proceeds with approvals and instructions, and he impresses you with how much he’s done despite being on vacation. You suppose he’s still jet lagged and is just taking advantage, but you remind him again that the weekend is coming and you won’t be working, so neither should he.

“I know, don’t worry,” he assures you. “We’re heading to other towns these next few days before taking the train to Sweden. I’ll have time to work but also to enjoy the scenery.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re able to take a break from all the craziness back here,” you say, meaning it.

He works so hard and you always wonder if he allows himself to breathe, to take a pause so he can look forward to something, and then savor it when it comes.

“Me, too. So when you take your vacation, I expect the same from you, alright?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sir,” you laugh. “I am gonna completely shut out once I clock off next Friday. You won’t hear from me until I’m back here.”

“Of course,” he says after a beat of silence. “You deserve a longer break, actually. You know you can always request for an extension.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to deal with so much backlog,” you respond. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go and people to drag with me. Plus, I’ll have a few days off for my birthday next month so I’ll definitely have more chances for rest.”

Jungkook nods, knowing that time will be bittersweet for him because you’ll get to have your break while he’ll be without you. Just like how it is now, as he’s on this vacation while you’re left to do so much work thousands of miles away from him. It also means he doesn’t get to do his routine with you, something that’s given him comfort and a sense of stability these past months. Seeing you through this call is his only way to remain connected with you, a chance to know how you’re doing, a moment to hear your voice and see the smile he’s been without. It’s just been two days but he already feels it’s much longer.

He finally lets you go, knowing you’ll be clocking out soon. Even if he doesn’t want to yet, he says goodbye.

As you asked, he savors their second day in the city, but he sees you everywhere - in all the greenery that he passes, in the library down the street, in the cafe with all the pastries that they eat at, and in the sky as he falls asleep at night. There’s comfort in knowing it’s the same one you wake up to every morning.

Not having Jungkook this long is a little disorienting. Sure, he’s been away a few times, but he’d still call or message to ask something or to give you instructions. It’s become your habit to bring him coffee every few hours, and you find yourself making one only to realize that he isn’t around.

Seeing him in A-yeong’s social media feels quite intrusive, but you couldn’t help but watch her Instagram stories, with him in a green fleece jumper as he walked down charming streets last Saturday, and then a black coat over a blue sweatshirt as he strolled the beachside on Sunday. He called the day before, on Tuesday afternoon, for your regular check-in, another hour of talking about work, even if all you wanna hear about is how his days have been. You’ve never thought about it as much before, but somehow seeing him in this way makes you care, it makes you want to know what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking.

You shake away the thoughts as Wednesday ends. It’s been a week since he left and there’s over two more weeks until he’s back. You’ll have another call on Friday and there won’t be another one until you return from your own vacation, and the thought saddens you, knowing there won’t be a reason for either of you to reach out.

But you take it as a challenge, as a way for you to slowly get him out of your system. Hopefully being without him for a while will help.

Friday comes and the call with Jungkook goes a little longer than usual. It’s towards the end when Hoseok and A-yeong make an appearance, as they’re all staying at a rental by the lake in a town in Sweden, and are about to have their breakfast.

“___!” Hoseok chirps. “Is my cousin still working you to the bone?”

“Asks the man who has hours-long meetings with his assistant every other day. If I may say, Hoseok, you’re driving Bitna crazy. I think I just saw her earlier pulling her hair out,” you tease.

“Ah, I don’t blame her. There’s just too much going on,” he sighs. “But at least I’m off her back now. It’s your last day before your break, you shouldn’t even be working right now! You should just be hanging out with the team before you all go out for dinner!”

“Like you said, there’s just too much going on,” you counter.

“These men never stop working, do they?” A-yeong huffs from next to her husband, prompting you to nod in agreement. She turns to Jungkook with her arms on her waist. “I’m telling you now, Kook, how are you gonna find a girlfriend when all you do is work, work, party, work, party, and work? Hmm?”

Jungkook chuckles, his hand behind his neck as he tries to give an answer. You can imagine A-yeong hampering him about this, given that she’s quite the proponent when it comes to companionship. It’s why she’s always patient with Hoseok, and why they love each other as much as they do. There’s understanding and respect, there’s trust and honesty. She’s not afraid to tell him when she feels neglected, and he makes up for it immediately.

“I’ll find her when I’m meant to,” Jungkook responds. “But anyway, I was just about to let ___ go.”

“Finally,” Hoseok says. Turning to you, he gives you that warm smile that you adore. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bug you during your break.”

“Good,” you respond, even if the thought saddens you a little. “Anyway, it looks so pretty out there. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it.”

“It is! And the sights are spectacular, ___. It’s definitely a must-visit,” Hoseok replies.

“One day,” you say, knowing it’ll probably never happen. Still, you indulge him. “I’ll settle with pictures for now, so you better take lots of them for me to see.”

“Ah, Kook is the resident photographer! He’s been taking a lot so he’ll show you.”

“That would be nice,” you smile. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you from enjoying your day. So I’ll go ahead. I’ll see you all when you get back!”

They bid you goodbye, and there’s that nod again, that smile, that softness that you’ve started getting used to seeing on Jungkook. It’s what you think about during the team dinner an hour later, while in the car going home as soft music plays, and as you fall asleep.

You hold onto that last image of him, until the next day when A-yeong posts on her socials again. It’s those snippets of his life that make you pause during the day and keep you up at night. There’s so much about him that you’re drawn to, that you want to get to know, that you want to protect.

He’s like a movie that plays in the local theater - captivating, intriguing, yet you remain a spectator and then it ends, moving on and you’ve only got the memory of it etched in your mind. It’s not yours to watch whenever you want and no matter how much you try to analyze it, it’ll always just be your interpretation, not his. He’ll remain as a moving image that you want so much to capture but seems too big, too overwhelming, too far.

But there are instances when you think you’ve got him for a second, that you understand him a little. There are moments like arriving at his penthouse the morning after he gets back from his trip with his mussed hair and oversized jumper that he feels more human, more flawed, more tangible.

It’s when he smiles at you and says that it’s nice to see you again that he feels within reach. It’s also the moment you realize that him being away didn’t really help. If anything, it intensified that feeling that you know you can’t have. You’re gonna lose him one day, and when you do, you hope for only the good memories to stay.

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flowersforbucky · 3 months ago

Text

higher than heaven

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.5k - my masterlist

summary: bucky's first time smoking 🍃 since the 40s. bucky finds you smoking alone one night, leading to two of you growing much closer.

warnings/tags: use of marijuana, language, brief use of alcohol, nightmares, ptsd, anxiety, pining and tension, heated kissing, friends to lovers, pretty fucking fluffy, no use of y/n, fem reader, 18+ only

author's note: no smut? gasp! everything else i've written for bucky has contained smut so bare with me, i just wanted to take a break for some fun and fluffy (but still tension-filled) toking.

a/n 2: bucky and reader smoke in this, but i wouldn't say that's the main focus of this fic, just something that brings them closer together. i tried not to focus too much on that aspect, and also tried not to give too vivid of descriptions of being stoned so hopefully readers who don't smoke 🍃 can still enjoy this fic for the fluff and feels. however, if this is a triggering topic for you in any way, please be careful and read at your own discretion 🖤

The Avenger's compound truly has everything you could ever need. A state of the art gymnasium and training center, indoor and outdoor pools, beautifully maintained grounds with walking trails and lake access.

And, one of your favorite things, no shortage of secluded smoking spots.

Tonight's choice? The roof directly above the living quarters. This is likely the spot that you frequent the most, out of sheer convenience.

You keep a couple of extra folding chairs stashed in the stairwell, for the rare occasions that you can convince Natasha or Wanda to relax enough to join you.

Tonight, like most nights, you're by yourself. You don't mind - you enjoy this alone time. You usually come up here after missions to unwind before passing out in your bed.

It’s a chilly night, with temperatures finally dropping down into the low fifties as the early days of fall approach. You're bundled up in an oversized hoodie, sipping on oolong tea to warm you from the inside. In your left hand you clutch the warm mug, and with your right you pinch the tail-end of a burning joint between your thumb and index finger.

You've been up here long enough to have already burnt through one joint, and you now take slow, heady hits of a second as you wait for the meteor shower that's expected to begin over the northeastern United States any minute.

The creaking of the large metal door that leads to the roof startles you, causing you to break your gaze away from the stars littered above you in the New York sky. All the times you've come up here to watch the sunsets over the lake, no one has stumbled upon you. You're surprised by who emerges from the doorway a second later.

Bucky freezes in his tracks when he notices you sitting just a few yards in front of him.

“Oh, sorry,” he pauses, seemingly glancing around the roof to see if there's anyone else here with you. “I didn't expect - I didn't think anyone would be up here right now,” he stutters out.

“You're good,” you smile at him over your shoulder before turning your attention back to the sky. “Trying to get a good view of the meteors?”

“Yes, actually,” he says, surprised. You hear his boots scratching the pavement of the roof as he walks closer to you. You look up at him when he comes to a stop right next to where you're sitting.

“Well, you've come to the right place.” You gesture towards the scenery in front of you - the endless inky sky overlooking the lake next to the compound. “There's some extra chairs stashed in the stairwell, if you'd like one.”

“I didn't know that you smoke,” he says curiously, eyeballing the blazing joint still clutched between your fingers. He visibly sniffs a couple times, as if to confirm that he is indeed smelling what he thinks he is. He doesn't acknowledge your offer of a chair, instead choosing to sit directly on the cement, criss-crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Are you going to tell on me?” You ask as if what you're doing isn't perfectly legal and your friends don't already know.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he smirks up at you, eyes flicking between you and the joint.

“Want a hit?” You offer, extending your hand towards him. He hesitates, uncertainty blooming across his features.

“I haven't smoked since the forties,” he starts with an awkward laugh. He reaches up, carefully taking the joint from you and pinching it between his own two fingers and inspecting it. “I still remember the last joint I smoked before finding out that I had been drafted. If I had known it was going to be my last, I would've appreciated it a lot more.” There's a hint of nostalgia in his words.

You picture it - baby-faced Bucky, in his early twenties, with glossy blue eyes and a lazy, content smile. The thought makes your cheeks warm, and a small, sad smile spreads across your own face. That was a literal lifetime ago, and you didn't know if he had felt as carefree since then.

“Well,” you begin after a sip of your tea. “You're no longer property of the United States Army, or HYDRA, or any organization. So if you want to smoke, then smoke. And if not, that's okay, too, but give me my joint back because you're burning perfectly good weed right now.”

He chuckles at your scolding before bringing the joint up to his own lips and taking a slow, long puff. There's a sharp inhale before he erupts into a coughing fit, smoke billowing out in a cloud in front of him. You give him a few awkward pats on the back while he works through the burn that he is undoubtedly feeling in his esophagus.

“Damn, I've missed that,” he sighs once he has regained his composure. He holds the dwindling joint back up to you.

You shake your head. “Finish it off,” you insist. “I've already had one tonight. It’s all yours.”

You expect him to argue but to your surprise, he takes a second hit. And a third, and fourth, while you sit next to him in an amicable, comfortable silence. Soon, there's nothing left but a small roach that he stubs out against the cement next to where he sits.

“How're you feeling?” You ask, knowing that his tolerance has to be in the negatives if he hasn't smoked in over seventy years.

“If twenty-two year old Bucky knew that I was this stoned off half a joint, he'd never let me hear the end of it,” he says with an amused smile, propping back on the palms of his hands to stare up at you.

“Well, I think one-hundred and six year old Bucky is doing just fine for himself,” you muse. “Twenty-first century weed has got to be more potent than whatever dirt weed you were smoking in the forties, so cut yourself some sla–”

“I did not smoke dirt–”

“Look!” you exclaim, cutting him off as you point up at the sky. He goes quiet, following your gaze.

You both watch in awed silence as flashes of bright white-blues and purples begin to dash across the sky above you. At first, there's a bolt here and a bolt there - but before you know it, there's dozens - too many meteors to count, here and then gone in the blink of an eye. Where one disappears, another takes its place.

You lose track of how long the two you sit there, on the roof, under the shower of the shooting stars - and it has nothing to do with being stoned. They are just that mesmerizing.

“I think we’re supposed to make a wish,” you murmur after a long while, remembering the old legend about shooting stars. You watch the last few meteors as they burn out, and then the sky goes dark once more. When he doesn't respond, you glance down at where he sits to find that his eyes are closed.

You smile to yourself - you didn't actually plan on making a wish, and you definitely didn't expect him to. You figure that he is just humoring you, but you can't help but think how adorable it is nonetheless. You can't stop yourself from snorting a laugh, causing his eyes to snap open and up at you.

“What? Did you make your wish?” he demands, his tone serious.

You hum. A familiar, glowing warmth grows from your lips and down to your toes despite the chilly night air as you stare at him. You tell yourself it’s a physical effect of the marijuana.

“I think I’m good, actually.”

••••••

Every year, a different member of the Avengers chooses a charity to hold a gala in honor of.

Sam's choice last year, Homes For Our Troops, build specially adapted, custom homes for severely injured veterans. Natasha's choice the year before that, Children of the Night, is a non-profit organization dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating children who have been victims of prostitution.

Always funded by the Stark Relief Foundation, always held in the most high-profile and illustrious venues that money can buy, and always filled to the brim with every philanthropist and major news reporter in the state of New York.

This year, for the first time, it was your turn to select a charity. You decided on Women For Women International - a noble and worthy cause that you are proud to raise awareness and donations for. However, now that three hours into the gala, you are fucking burnt out. From the moment that you and your teammates arrived at the venue, guests and reporters began forming lines for their chance at interviewing you or getting their picture taken with you. You feel like you’ve talked to every person in the building, except for the one person that you truly wanted to. Add in a ten minute long speech addressing five hundred plus guests, you are drained. Physically, mentally, and socially drained.

“You did incredible with your speech,” a soft voice says from behind you. “All that worrying for nothing.”

You're exhaling a sigh of relief at the familiar voice before you've finished turning around to meet his dimpled grin and deep blue eyes. You think he might just be as ready as you are to get out of here with the way he's already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his tux. His hair is tousled - though you haven't had a free moment to speak with him since the car ride over here with Sam and Steve, you have no doubt that he's ran his fingers through the short locks a few dozens times throughout the evening - a habit that flares up every time he's out of his element. With this being the first gala he's attended as an Avenger, and possibly the first gala he's ever attended, you're surprised he has any hair left.

“I wouldn't say for nothing,” you turn back to the bar in front of you and wave a singular finger to the bartender, signaling your desire for another drink. “I stuttered at least eight times, and lost my place on the page twice. I felt like I was going to puke shrimp cocktail and espresso martini all over the podium.”

You can see him grimace from your peripheral vision. He pulls out the barstool next to where you stand, and then takes a seat. You're pinned between the chair on the opposite side of you and his thigh, the cool silk of his pants tickling the bare skin of your leg where your dress cuts off just above mid-thigh. Close enough that you can feel warmth radiate from him and smell the essence of his piney aftershave. Subconsciously, you relax for the first time all evening.

“You are your own worst critic,” he reminds you, repeating the sentiment that he’s been saying to you for the last few weeks, anytime the gala or your speech would come up in conversation. “No one else noticed if you stuttered. They’re all too full of liquor, or too concerned with getting their photo op with Iron Man or The Hulk..” he trails off, glancing over his shoulder at where Tony and Bruce are both striking signature poses for some selfies with guests.

“And what about you? Have any of your fangirls begged you to take a picture with them?” You smirk at him as the bartender slides your martini across the countertop. You angle your body so that you’re now turned to face him, leaving practically no space between the two of you.

“More than I can count,” he exhales, and you force a laugh to not roll your eyes - not that you were surprised or that you could blame them for wanting their picture taken with him.

“Well, I’m glad that we were able to raise so much money,” you sigh into your drink. “But I would be lying if I said I’m also not glad that it’s over with. I’m ready to get these shoes off, submerge myself in a hot bath, and then sleep until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Always the introvert,” he murmurs, a sly grin appearing on his face. He carefully tugs the lapel of his jacket to the side and reaches his flesh hand inside, pulling out a tin of wintergreen Altoids. You look at him curiously as he gives the small container a shake. It makes no sound, seemingly empty of mints. You cock an eyebrow at him, about to ask him what the deal is, when a familiar, earthy scent wafts towards you.

“What’s in the tin, Buck?” you ask rhetorically, as if the odor isn’t a dead giveaway.

“Just a little something I’ve been saving for when I could finally get you alone tonight,” he shrugs, slipping the tin back inside the interior pocket of his jacket. Your heart skips a beat at the possibility that maybe he’d been wanting to talk to you, see you, spend time with you as much as you had him.

“I’m just happy to see that you finally have your own weed,” you tease, trying to polish off the remnants of your drink so that you can get the fuck out of here. “Now you can stop smoking all of mine.”

You’re just giving him a hard time, of course. You’d lost count of how many times the two of you have smoked together since the night of the meteor shower just two months ago, and you were more than happy to share your supply with him - he gives you a lopsided grin that tells you he knows you don’t actually mind.

“Hence why I have pre-rolled three joints just for you,” he quips back. “One for how much time and effort you put into this event, one for conquering your fear of public speaking, and one for how much of your weed you have let me smoke.”

Your cheeks warm at the thoughtful gesture. You swallow the last swig of the brown liquid and slide the glass back across the bar.

“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go get a cab.”

Half an hour later, you and Bucky are in the backseat of the taxi that drives you away from bustling downtown Brooklyn and towards a park that Bucky had instructed the driver to take you to. You didn’t object, trusting that he knows this area of New York better than you do.

The driver comes to a stop next to a nearly desolate sidewalk that appears to lead to a waterfront walkway. Bucky hands the driver a handful of cash, tells him to keep the change, and hops out of the cab before extending a hand to you as you scoot across the seat to follow his exit. You mumble a quick thanks to the driver as he helps you onto the sidewalk and shuts the door behind you.

You pull your coat tighter around you, attempting to shield yourself from the chill of the November air. Fall is now in full swing in New York, and the short cocktail dress that you wore to the gala does little to protect you from the night air.

“Me and Steve used to come to this park all the time,” he tells you as he pulls the Altoids tin and a BIC lighter from his jacket. “I vividly remember having to break up a fight he got into just past that fountain when we were teenagers,” he motions towards a large granite fountain ahead of you, “when some asshole stole a kid's frisbee.”

You laugh as he passes you a joint and the lighter, able to picture the memory he describes clear as day. It's far from the first time he's told you about a time that he had to get pre-serum Steve out of trouble.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you mumble as you pinch the tail of the joint between your lips, inhaling as you hold the flame up to the opposite end. A wave of smoke instantly fills your esophagus and lungs with a familiar, comforting burn and you pass the blazing joint back to him. “He’d still do the exact same thing, too,” you add as you exhale the thick cloud of smoke that mixes with the cold air. “Only difference now is that he can handle any fight that he gets himself into.”

“Some things never change,” he says before bringing the paper up to his own lips. You follow as he guides you across a small grassy area and to the walkway that runs alongside the river. Truthfully, it’s too chilly to be on a park stroll at this hour in your current attire, but with Bucky’s body heat radiating from directly beside you and the buzz you feel from the weed, you’re surprisingly comfortable.

“One thing that has changed however,” he continues as you’re inhaling a second hit, “is how well I’ve started sleeping on the nights that we smoke together. On those nights, I don't wake up over a dozen times. Hardly ever even have nightmares anymore.”

Your skin tingles at his admission - a whole flight of butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach that you push down. You know that he means this because of the weed, not because of you, but for some reason - maybe it's the way his arm keeps bumping against yours or the way the moonlight reflects in the pools of his blue eyes as he glances over at you - you let yourself believe, even for just a split second, that you're aiding in bringing him peace on those evenings spent together. On the roof above the living quarters right before bed, or at the edge of the lake's water when you stop after a late run to watch the sunset, or -

“I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful that I found you up on the roof the night of the meteor shower,” he continues when you don't respond, his voice now possessing a nervous edge. Your mouth suddenly feels dry - the worst cotton-mouth you've ever had times ten. “For more reasons than one.”

You both gradually slow until you've come to a complete stop in front of a boat dock. Between the martini you had before leaving the gala, the effects of the marijuana, and the way he's looking at you while standing so close, you think it's a miracle that you haven't tripped in these ridiculous chunky heels and fallen into the East River. You clear your throat, hoping that you don't sound like a lovestruck teenager when you speak.

“I'm really glad too, Bucky.”

••••••

You stare down at the picture displayed on your phone screen as you and Natasha take the elevator up to the compound's living quarters.

Rolled and ready for you to be home reads the text attached to the picture of the joint pinched between the thumb and index finger of his flesh hand that Bucky had sent you ten hours ago, before your flight from Arizona to New York was supposed to depart.

Our flight has been delayed due to a thunderstorm. No current ETA your reply reads with a frowny face emoji at the end.

Now, at 2:16 in the morning, you are finally back home hours later than originally expected.

You were sure that Bucky was asleep by this point, and you didn't blame him. You wished you were asleep right now, too. Natasha slept the entire plane ride back to New York.

You, on the other hand, may or may not have spent the plane ride reading back over recent text messages between you and Bucky and zooming in on the picture he had sent you because for some reason you really like his hands. Both of them.

You were acting like a goddamn fifteen year old.

“What are you grinning at?” Natasha's voice snaps you out of your trance. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag.

“I'm not grinning,” you lie, but it's Natasha - of course she sees right through you.

“You were grinning,” she shrugs with a knowing smirk. “But it's okay. We'll chalk it up to sleep deprivation.”

“I am sleep deprived, actually. Someone snored the entire flight back home.”

“For someone who wasn't grinning you sure are being defensive right now,” she retorts with a shit-eating grin as the elevator dings and the door slides open. You roll your eyes as you both step out into the hallway that leads to the living quarters. You turn to the left, towards your bedroom, and she takes a right but then comes to a sudden stop, calling your name. You freeze, turning to look at her with a raised brow.

“For what it's worth, I think you should go for it. It's obvious to everyone around you two.” She looks at you expectantly.

“Get some rest, Nat,” you huff a small laugh under your breath, and try not to smile. She doesn't press the subject any further.

Before reaching your bedroom, you pause at the door to Bucky's room. You don't knock, but wait to see if you hear any movement from inside. All that you hear is a loud static from his white noise machine.

Although you expected him to be asleep at this hour, you couldn't help but feel a small pang of disappointment that you hadn't been able to get back earlier. You knew you would see him tomorrow (well, technically later today), but you hadn't gone this long - a mere three days - without seeing Bucky since the two of you had become close months ago.

You quietly make your way into your bedroom and toss your duffel bag onto the end of the bed before stripping off the dirty, sweaty tactical suit that you'd been wearing since the early hours of the previous morning.

In your bathroom, you turn the faucet handle to the hottest setting and watch as the small room fills with steam before stepping under the showerhead.

You think about what Natasha said as you scrub your body clean and let the harsh but satisfying stream of water relax your aching shoulder muscles.

You wanted to go for it. Goddamn, you wanted to go for it. Every time you are alone with him - whether he's helping you train with target practice, or you're paired up together for re-con, or you're just simply eating breakfast together in the common area - you want to go for it.

All you have to do is stare at his stupid, pretty pink lips for a split-second too long and you're thinking about going for it.

But for so many reasons, you don't.

Though your heart wants more, you love your friendship with him, too. And you would be devastated if you tried for more and it didn't work out and you lost that friendship altogether.

You also don't know if Bucky wants more. Natasha says that everyone around you sees it, but he's never directly said it. You know there's an undeniable chemistry, but what if you're the only one experiencing it?

You watch the last few suds of your body wash go down the drain and turn the shower off, deciding that it's too late and you're far too tired to be thinking about this right now.

You speed through your post-shower routine, desperate to feel the silk of your bedsheets against your clean, freshly moisturized skin as you drift off to sleep.

You're rolling some deodorant under your arms when a deep, loud cry thunders from somewhere outside of your room causing you to let out a shocked gasp. You drop the object in your hand immediately and it falls to the floor as you rush out of your bedroom, wearing only thin cotton shorts and a matching tank top.

As soon as you step into the hallway, you are able to identify where the screams are coming from. Pained, booming yells originate from behind the door directly across from your own.

Bucky’s room.

You don't hesitate to twist the doorknob, letting yourself and shutting the door behind you.

The pale orange glow of a small table lamp in the far corner of his bedroom illuminates the room enough for you to make sense of what is happening. The sight before you makes your heart sink to the floorboards.

He's asleep - his eyes pinched shut and his brows furrowed together in obvious agony. He's shirtless, and his skin looks pale and clammy with thick beads of sweat littered from his forehead to his torso.

There's a meek voice in the back of your mind that tries to remind you that you don't know what you're walking into, as you've never encountered Bucky while he's having a nightmare before but he looks so fucking pitiful that your only concern is alleviating him from whatever prison of torment his mind is currently trapped in.

You rush over to the side of the bed, nearly tripping on the comforter that he's apparently through to the floor in his sleep. Both of his hands form tight fists, his knuckles strained pale. He lets out another guttural yell that causes you to instinctively flinch away.

“Bucky,” you say, attempting to keep your voice from breaking. “Wake up, Bucky. You're having a nightmare.”

He gives no indication that he can hear you, his head thrashing violently and fists slamming down against his mattress as he makes a pitiful whimper.

“Bucky,” you repeat, leaning down to perch on the few inches of free space on the side of the bed. You reach out to place your hand on the flesh of his bicep, about to attempt to gently stir him awake, when he shoots straight up in his bed. You flinch again, but don't move from your position next to him, firming your grasp on his bicep in an effort to ground him. His blue eyes are as wide as saucers and his chest heaves as he takes in his surroundings.

“You're okay,” you assure him in a soft, uncertain voice, rubbing your thumb in circles against the skin of his flesh arm. “It was just a bad dream. Everything is–”

“I could have hurt you,” he interrupts you, his voice faltering on the last word. “I could have–”

“You didn't hurt me,” you interrupt him back. “You're okay, and I'm okay, too.” He nods, and you can tell he's trying to convince himself that the words you say are true.

You quickly glance around his room until you find what you're looking for. Strewn on the floor next to his bedside table, you see a black t-shirt. You reach over, picking it up. You hesitate for a moment before slowly extending the fabric to Bucky's face, where you delicately wipe away the thin layer of sweat that glistens on his forehead. He relaxes into the movement, his eyes closing until you pull away.

“I'm sorry that I woke you up,” he murmurs after a moment of heavy silence.

“You didn't wake me up,” you assure him quickly. He watches you with something akin to guilt across his features. “I had just gotten out of the shower. We didn't get home until half an hour ago.”

He glances down, noticing your attire. You suddenly feel naked in only the thin gray shorts and tank top. You awkwardly clear your throat, reaching to place the t-shirt on his bedside table when something catches your eye. Bucky follows your gaze to the joint laying on his bedside table.

“I tried to wait up for you,” he exhales a soft laugh. “Ended up passing out around midnight.” Your whole body warms at his admission. The idea that he tried to force himself to stay awake just so he could see you when you got home makes you feel dizzy despite the fact that you're sitting down.

“Do you want to now? To help you sleep?” you ask, gesturing towards the joint. You don't even care that it's three in the morning and that you're borderline delirious from lack of sleep.

He takes one of your hands in between his own and brings it closer to him, giving it a tight squeeze as he shakes his head.

“No, I know you're tired. But could you just..” He trails off, bringing your hand clutched between his up to his mouth to rest his lips against the skin of the back of your hand. It's not quite a kiss, but it sends goosebumps across your flesh nonetheless. You're holding your breath without realizing it. “Could you just lay with me for a while?”

You nod your head in agreement without even thinking about it. “Yeah - yeah, of course,” you answer, hoping that you don't sound too eager while simultaneously knowing that your voice has risen several octaves.

You lean over once again, grabbing his comforter off of the floor as Bucky scoots towards the middle of the king sized bed to give you room to crawl in beside him. He extends his flesh arm away from his body, a clear indication that he wants you to lay in the space between his arm and his chest. You lay down, tucking your head under his chin so that your cheek rests against the mildly clammy but soft skin of his chest. He helps you tug the thick blanket across your bodies before bringing his arm around your abdomen, pinning you to him.

Luckily, you’re far too tired, and he’s far too warm for you to overthink it.

“You smell really good,” he murmurs into your hair and you hope that his preternatural abilities don’t pick up on the way your heart skips a beat. “I probably smell like sweat.”

You hum a laugh against his chest, sniffing the skin next to your nose without thinking about it.

“You don’t smell like sweat. You smell just as good as you always do, somehow,” you assure him, reveling in his unique scent of vetiver and something citrusy.

You’re both quiet for a moment, sleep threatening to overtake you at any moment when he brings two metal fingers to the underside of your chin and gently tilts your face to look up at him. Your breath is trapped in your chest at the close proximity of your lips and his.

“Remember the night of the gala, when I told you that I’d started sleeping better and having less nightmares since we’d started smoking together before bed?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to answer verbally. He’s so fucking close, you can smell the spearmint of his toothpaste from when he’d brushed his teeth hours ago.

“That was true,” he continues, looking down at you with an indiscernible expression. “But what I’m now realizing is that I don’t think it has anything to do with the weed,” he pauses, a small smile forming across his face. “It’s just you.”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms in return, just as you can’t stop what you do next.

Closing the distance between your lips and his own, you kiss him as you’ve thought about doing for months now. You’re hesitant at first, worrying that you’ve crossed that line that you can never go back over - but then he’s moving his mouth with your own in a synchronicity sweeter than you could have dreamed.

His arms dart under the comforter, wrapping around your body and pulling you even tighter against him. You bring one of your hands to cup his face as he sweeps his tongue along the swell of your bottom lip. You open up for him, letting him inside your mouth as you move your hand from his jaw to his hair - lacing your fingers through the short brown locks as he explores your mouth. Your thigh hooks around his, and it takes everything in you to hold back - to not swing yourself over him and lay the full weight of your body flush against his.

He’s just had a nightmare, and it’s late, and you’re tired, and you don’t want to move this sweet, special thing that you have too quickly.

He pulls away, and you fight against whimpering at the loss of the sensation of his soft lips.

“The night of the meteor shower,” he starts, his voice strained and his pupils dilated. “You told me to make a wish, and I did. Now that it’s come true, I can tell you what it was I wished for,” he pauses, running his metal thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip as you look at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on. “I wished for as many moments like that as I could possibly get with you.”

Your heart swells in your chest. You're convinced that you're asleep because this is something straight out of your dreams. You remove your hand from his hair, placing it directly above his heart to make yourself believe this is real.

“Speaking of meteor showers,” you start as you trail the tips of your fingers over the defined planes of his chest. “There's supposed to be a cool show at the planetarium in Manhattan this weekend. Do you want to go with me?”

His answer is a soft smile before attaching his lips to yours once more.

thanks so much for reading! as always reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated. i hope you enjoyed 🩷

other recent works by me: love language • delirium • it's nice to have a friend

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic

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devotedfem · 2 months ago

Text

«American Psycho»

Synopsis: In the 80's, there's a group of wealthy succesful wall streeter men that are disgustingly greedy. They maintain an appearance of perfection, but they're narcissistic, egomaniacal, competitive and murderers. Unlucky for you, they got infatuated on you, competing with each other to have you.

Hyung line (poly) x f. Reader

4.6K words.

Genre: inspired by American psycho (2000) | yander-ish.

Tags: American psycho au, power imbalance, 80's New York, Period Typical Sexism, murder, rich and powerful hyung line, classic wealthy corporate men, greed for money, college student reader, reader has grey morals, a little bit of gore but just at the beginning, savage capitalism, overworking, yandere hyung line, they're not good people, psychopaths and evil hyung line (but they have a soft spot for reader), end game poly relationship, possessive behavior, dubious consent (because of power imbalance), double penetration (you've been warned lol).

From the series masterlist; Final girl.

Navigation Masterlist.

a/n: this contain very sensitive and triggering topics, like classism and sexism, the movie was inspired by a book that wanted to critize the image of the priviledge american man. I don't agree with any of the triggering topics here, this is fiction, so please read with caution.

Seokjin put off his face mask to apply his expensive cream on his skin. His face was straight and indifferent, bored even. He styled his hair with gel and he put on his luxurious dress suit, ignoring the gagged sounds of the annoying man tied to a chair in his penthouse.

Seokjin stared down at him without lowering his chin, lifting a brow with displeasure. That man looked too dirty for his polished place.

He grabbed his brand-new axe, covering his body with a plastic protective suit.

The tied and gagged man widened his eyes with horror, shaking his head and wailing with fear, getting nothing in return but a bored expression from Seokjin.

“This will teach you to not bother me. You’re not on the same level as me, you thought you could outdo me? Playing your tricks in my company? Don’t you know what I’m capable of?” Something evil and dark gleamed in his eyes, it was the only emotion he showed since the tied man met him. And it was frightening.

The polished porcelain floor got stained by blood, sparking Seokjin’s evil face. The man’s head rolled out of his body to Seokjin’s brand-new dress shoes.

The taller wrinkled his nose with disgust, annoyed because he has to change his favorite shoes.

“What a burden,” he whispered to himself with a deep sigh.

Meanwhile, in the building next door was Yoongi nursing a drink of his expensive whisky. His mahogany office was barely illuminated because of the curtains hiding the view of New York. Some of his employees say between whispers that the CEO acted like a vampire.

“I-I did what you asked me to, sir,” the employee in front of him trembled with anxiety, intimidated by Yoongi’s heavy gaze.

Yoongi lifted a corner of his lips in a disdain way, his eyes darkening with anger.

“And you think that following my orders like a moron means that you did a good job?” He spat furious, throwing his whiskey glass, shattering it next to the employee’s head.

The man shrinks violently, and he did something pitiful even for Yoongi’s taste. The man dropped to his knees, looking at his boss with pleading eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, I need this job to pay my bills or I’ll be on the streets,” he said with desperation and teared eyes.

Flames of satisfaction and power raises to Yoongi’s lungs. He enjoyed watching the kind of power he holds over other people, it was a shame that his employees were so dumb and inefficient, because he did pay very well to them. So, to him it was reasonable to be demanding, after all it was his money at stake.

Yoongi walked slowly towards the knelt man, with a smirk growing on his lips. Then he took out his gun silencer shooting the man to the head, making his body fall to the side silently.

“One less idiot,” he murmured to himself, nursing another glass of whiskey.

And there it was Namjoon and Hoseok, the feared duo of executives. They were ruthless on their work, the definition of competitive successful man. The greedy representation of privileged man who are at the top of the food chain in the patriarchal New York society of the 80’s.

They were at an executive meeting, looking at each other with knowing smirks, making everyone in the room nervous and tense. Because they haven’t said a single word since the proposal of their work partners.

And they still kept quiet at the end of the meeting, glancing at everyone with boredom, getting out of the room without saying goodbye. After all they have better things to do.

“What a bunch of idiots,” Hoseok huffs rolling his eyes with annoyance. Namjoon chuckled nodding his head.

“I already send the order to kill them,” Namjoon said with a grin.

Anyone that dares to do as much as wasting their time, will get erased.

And there it was you.

A New York student that has to deal with college and rent.

This city was expensive, and you were just a middle-class girl with dreams. You worked many parts time jobs to support yourself and prove to your family that you don’t need to marry a man to be happy, you can be an independent woman.

Well, that was easier to say than to do, it was hard to pay your bills and tuition without anyone’s help. You were exhausted and full of debts. You sighed deep, maybe if you marry rich then you wouldn’t have to worry about these things, but you were too proud to admit that out loud. You have to be the change you want to see in the world, don’t you? You say that to yourself to feel better, and to not to be on the verge of mental breakdown.

You feel like crying, until some miracle happened to you.

You founded 3 job offers as an assistant for 4 men. And the best part of it? Is that the four of them gave you the job. And the pay was quite generous.

They don’t have to know that you’ll be the assistant of other people at the same time, you’ll manage. You’d do anything for money at this point, even if that means overworking yourself.

You got ready for your first day, wearing your nicest pencil skirt and doing your hair in a slick bun. You looked pretty decent, ready to be eaten by corporate men.

You divide your schedule in three, you spent all night making the perfect schedule. You were lucky that those men worked in nearby buildings, otherwise your plan would’ve been impossible.

7:00 am to 11:00 am; Kim Seokjin.

You sighed deep, trying to control your nerves. You knew that the rich men of wall street are insufferable and labor exploiters, so you did prepare mentally for any kind of abuse, you need the money.

You knocked once, twice, but you didn’t receive an answer.

You waited 15 minutes in front of Seokjin’s door, you wanted to cry and break down the door. Your time was gold, literally.

And then a tall handsome man greets you, his face was impassive and serious, like if he has a stick up his ass. But you couldn’t help but feel a little bit intimidated by his heavy and cold gaze fixated on you. He stared down at your body without lowering his chin, with square shoulders and a straight posture. He looked composed in a frightening way. You gulped nervous, trying to give him a smile and swallow your insults.

“Good morning Mr. Kim, it’s a pleasure to meet you, i-“

You were interrupted by him rudely turning around and leaving you alone in the hallway, standing with your lips parted like a fish.

What an ass.

He was way worse than you think.

You sighed deep entering his penthouse, you have no choice but to bear with his attitude, the pay was too good unfortunately.

You cleared your throat taking your notebook out of your bag.

“So, Mr. Kim, I need to know more details about your daily routine and schedule, anything will help,” you said clicking your pen and looking at him expectably.

He arched a brow, looking genuinely pissed. You frowned confused, you didn’t know why that man was so annoyed by your existence.

“I didn’t hire you to be this irritating, stop asking questions and figure it out,” he almost snarled the last words, turning around to fix his tie in front of his living room mirror.

You again, parted your lips. You bit your tongue hard, tasting your iron blood. You wanted to punch that rude ass man, but you just couldn’t. You were powerless right now.

So you sighed again, with a fake and tense smile on your face.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you Mr. Kim, I just want to make my job right. If you please could provide me with your valuable information so I can do the best job you definitely deserve.”

Seokjin went rigid at your words, turning around to look at you with fury and disbelief in his eyes, it was the first emotion he showed to you.

“Are you… are you being sarcastic to me? Don’t fucking get smart with me!”

You widened your eyes at his shout, it was such a rare sight to see him this affected. You won’t lie, it was a bit funny to watch how you can get under his skin so easily. But offending him wasn’t your intention, you don’t want to get fire on your first day of work.

“I would never, sir,” you said trying to not sound bitter, but Seokjin’s narrowed eyes told you that he didn’t believe you.

“Watch your mouth.” He barked, and you almost roll your eyes.

“Please, I just need to know some details of your schedule, then you will never hear my annoying voice again, i swear. I just want to do a good job for a man like you,” your eye almost twitch by your own disgusting words, you felt like a bootlicker, but you have no choice.

Your dignity will not pay your bills.

That eased Seokjin’s tensed shoulder, his eyes softening just a little bit.

“Fine,” he said rolling his eyes.

And he did help you with information about his schedule, you made a list of his priorities and things you should do and not do. Your smile was too big to hide, you definitely can handle this! Not even a jerk like Seokjin will stop you from earning that good money.

“Thanks! I’ll be out of your hair Mr. Kim, you won’t even notice I’m here,” you said grinning ear to ear, maybe you looked insane smiling so happily at a man that treated you so poorly, but you didn’t care.

Seokjin blinked a little taken aback, but you watched how a small smile curled up on his lips.

“It’ll be difficult not to,” he teased you before turning around and fixing his tie again. You stand there speechless.

Surprisingly, it was way creepier to watch him tease you and smile instead of insulting you.

The moment that your watch struck 11 in the morning, you literally ran to the next building where your next boss works.

His building was cold and almost empty, the people there were pretty quiet and distant, you felt shivers when you knocked Mr. Yoongi’s door.

“Come in,” a deep voice said at the other side of the door. At least he doesn’t ignore you like Seokjin.

You entered his office, forcing yourself not to drool by the beauty and luxury of this place. Everything looked so expensive.

“Hello Mr. Yoongi. I’m your new assistant, it’s nice to meet you.” You felt a little bit intimidated by the heavy and dark gaze of Yoongi, his pale face and black suit made him look like a vampire.

Until now, he didn’t act rude towards you, but he sure as hell didn’t seem nice.

He was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, not breaking his piercing stare from you. One of his hands was holding a liquor glass, that must have been the first red flag.

“Before we start, you have to know that if you do as much as bother me, or screw up your work, I’m going to finish you. Literally and figurately.” He threatened with a gulp of his drink. His dark gaze piercing you while the liquor went down his throat.

Your chest deflated with disappointment, your hope of working with a decent man crashed immediately.

You weren’t scared at all by his threat. You know these types of man are powerful and dangerous, you couldn’t risk pissing off one of them without consequences, you live in a patriarchal society so you won’t be fooled by the thought that they’ll play fair. You weren’t dumb, and you know how to play your cards right.

“Good to know Mr. Yoongi. I appreciate when my bosses are direct with me, makes my job easier. Could you please tell me more details about your schedule? So I can get to work and not waste more of your time.” Your clicked pen was the only sound in the quiet office.

Yoongi’s eyes widened just for a split second. But he composed himself by clearing his throat and giving you information that would make your work easier.

You get to work in silence in Yoongi’s office, you felt his heavy stare on your body, but you ignored him, focused on your papers.

It was a bit creepy the way his eyes would follow you across the office, but you can bear a creep man if he pays as half as good as Yoongi do.

Unbeknownst to you, the paled man smirked devilish to himself, he liked you. And that was more dangerous than his dislike.

You almost jumped when the clock struck 3 in the afternoon.

Your stomach twisted a little, you gulped your anxiety down. It was time to meet your next bosses, they were two executives. If dealing with one rich man in 4 hours was difficult, imagine dealing with two at the same time. You won’t lie, you feel nervous.

Namjoon and Hoseok building were different from your other bosses, this place was full of people running everywhere, it looked so chaotic. But at least you won’t get bored.

Nobody paid attention to you, and you had to ask to like 10 people for where your bosses at.

They were in a meeting. Great, just great.

You waited patiently for them to finish. And when they got out of the meeting room, you rush to them crossing their paths. They stopped immediately, the taller one has an irritated expression and the shorter looked offended by your presence.

“Hi good evening. Sorry for startle you both, I’m the new assistant y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said a little bit out of breath but that didn’t stop you from smiling at them.

“Excuse me?” The taller arched a brow.

You frowned not understanding the offense.

“Uhmm, sorry?”

The shorter one rolled his eyes with irritation.

“Are you fucking dumb? Who told you that you have any right to bother us? Know your place and go with the others employees and figured it out.” He dismissed you with narrowed eyes.

You stood there frozen, and they ignored you walking past you.

But you composed yourself quickly, their attitude wasn’t nothing new.

And again, you joined them on their walk to God knows where, you were praying to not pushing it too hard and get fired.

“It wasn’t my intention to bother such busy and important men like you, I just wanted to introduce myself and get information to do a good job and to be out of your hairs for an unlimited time.” This time your voice sounded breathless, you were exhausted.

The shorter one snorted in disbelief, his eyes flamed with something wicked.

“Is this thing being sarcastic to us?” He asked looking at you but not speaking directly to you.

Your chest sting with offense at him calling you a thing, but you swallowed your bitter emotions.

“I’m y/n,” you replied with a tense smile, not biting the bait.

“Y/n, get the fuck out of our sights unless you want to disappear, and not only from this company,” the taller one threatened with a dark glint in his eyes. You shivered slightly, he was wider and bigger than the other, looking way more dangerous.

Men and their big egos.

“I… I’m sorry for being this bold and rude. I don’t want to waste your time really, I just want to make a good job, that’s my only purpose. I promise to be out of your sight if you could spare me some minutes of your time, I will make it worth it.”

Silence. An uncomfortable hush.

“Very well then,” said the shorter one, tilting his head to the side and watching you head to toes. A wicked smile curled his lips, and you chose to ignore the alarm bells ringing at the back of your head.

“Follow us,” the taller ordered with a deep voice.

At the end of the day you were exhausted, you made it, you survived corporate exploiters men.

The following weeks went rather smoothly. Yes, they were rude and annoying, but you got used to them. You can’t say that you like them, but you tolerate them (for the sake of your rent and bills of course).

Seokjin underneath his cold and indifferent behavior was like a spoiled brat, sassy and rude, but a little bit endearing at some times.

“Y/n, fix it,” he almost whine looking down at you with frowned lips.

You chuckled rolling your eyes.

“I’m gonna start to think that you just want me near you,” you teased, a little bit bold yes, but over time you learned that Seokjin liked to tease way worse.

His eyes glinted with mischievousness, the corner of his lips curling like the cheshire cat.

“You sure wish that was true, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you replied laughing.

It was all jokes between you two, you got used to this type of interaction with your boss. Sometimes he did get a little too friendly for your like, but you really didn’t care. This job was temporary anyway.

And there it was Yoongi, the intimidating vampire-like boss that in the inside was like a bratty cat.

His feline eyes liked to be fixated on you, watching your every move like an actual cat for your amusement. You didn’t mind his heavy attention on you, he was wary with his employees like any other rich man from wall street. You got used to him too.

“Here are the papers you asked me for, sir,” you said airily, you had everything perfectly arranged, leaving no room for mistakes.

Yoongi hummed, looking at the papers and then looking at you again with eyes full of mischief.

“Are you sure it’s that all I asked for?” He didn’t break his piercing eyes from you, many people get intimidated by his stare but not you.

“Yes, of course,” you said smiling and he nodded to himself.

“There’s one thing you haven’t done.”

You didn’t say anything back, you were sure you did everything.

“And that would be…?”

“Having a drink with me, you never do that when I ask you to.” He asked nonchalant with his eyes on his drink, but you knew he was being serious.

“That’s not professional,” you said and he chuckled at your response.

You sighed biting your bottom lip, indecisive. Your goal was to be on their good side after all.

You said nothing when you sit in front of him crossing your leg over the other, the same way he does when he’s drinking. You smirked when he startled a little, but he tried to hide his surprise by a cough.

He poured you whiskey and you took a sip of your drink, trying not to wrinkle your face by the bitter taste. But Yoongi noticed and laughed, you widened your eyes at the sound. It was the first time you listened to his laugh and it was contagious because you chuckle with him.

Namjoon and Hoseok despite seeming intimidating the first time you met them, they were pretty chill and funny when the three of you become a little more closer.

They were in a meeting, and you were by their sides writing down the relevant things they say.

“See that guy over there? Look how he’s falling asleep,” Namjoon whispered near your ear, too close for your liking. However, you follow his gaze watching the older man’s head tilting to the side with sleepiness. You bit a laugh, the poor man had his eyes half lidded with boredom.

At your other side was Hoseok, he had his gaze fixated on the guy speaking, but he looked at you when he heard your little chuckle, a mischievous smirk curled on his lips. You said “sorry” quietly, but he only winked at you before turning his attention again to the man, returning to his cold expression.

When the three of you get out of the meeting room, Namjoon and Hoseok started to make fun of the guy’s speech and the older man’s attempt of being awake. You laughed genuinely for the first time around them.

“Those two don’t know what awaits them.” Namjoon’s words made your smile fall slowly, erasing any hint of amusement. You almost forgot the kind of men you work for.

“Are you going to… fire them?” You asked quietly, gripping tightly your notebook.

Namjoon only shrugged his shoulders, but you noticed the evil glint in his eyes.

“Firing them is too soft coming from us,” Hoseok replied instead, not without smiling at you. But this time his smile turned your stomach sick.

You chose not to ask more questions. Sometimes being ignorant it’s a blessing.

You settle into a routine with your bosses for a couple of months.

But as they say… lies has no legs. They started to notice that your attention wasn’t completely on them.

Seokjin was the first to notice.

That morning he was staring down at you with narrow eyes, even when you tried to joke with him while fixing his tie he ignored you without breaking his piercing eyes from you.

“You said the other day that you work only for me, is that correct?” His voice sounded harsh, and he stared down at you with dark eyes. You gulped nervously, your smile trembling a little.

“Yes, it’s the truth.”

He didn’t say anything back and you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Fine.”

You tried not to snap your eyes up at him with surprise. Does he really believe you?

But then, you felt Seokjin coming near your body, gripping your chin up to met his heavy gaze.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

He was standing too close to your body, his chest almost touching yours. The grip on your chin tightens when you didn’t reply right away.

“I… don’t,” you couldn’t help but be confused. It wasn’t his business if you have a boyfriend or not.

He nodded slowly, not breaking his eyes from you.

“Good. As long as you work for me, you can’t have a fiancé, neither another boss. I’m paying for your absolute time and attention. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips parted and your eyes widened. You were shocked and confused, who does the thinks he is?

“Answer!” he barked furious.

“Yes,” you gritted between teeth.

What a jerk.

And Yoongi was the same.

He was sitting with his heavy gaze fixated on you as usual, but this time he wasn’t holding a glass of whiskey.

“Who else do you see after work?” he asked lifting a brow and tapping his foot.

None of your fucking business, you wanted to bark at him, but instead you bit your tongue.

“No one else, sir,” you couldn’t help but sound bitter.

He snorted with the corner of his lip curling up in a disdain way.

“I hope it’s true, because if not you’ll pay the consequences.”

This time you couldn’t bit your tongue back.

“What consequences? Firing me?”

You regretted opening your big mouth immediately.

Yoongi didn’t react, he simply stood up to walk towards you like a predator ready to pounce its prey.

“I usually don’t say this, but you’re a very valuable employee. If you want to keep a roof over your head, you have to be mine,” he growled the last word near your ear, although he was short, he towered over you, making you feel small with his closeness and strong fragrance.

You gulped, nodding without meeting his eyes. And he grinned wide. You swear you saw sharp teeth.

And Namjoon and Hoseok were even worse.

The both of them corned you against the desk of their office, the back of your knees hitting the corner of the desk. You gulped looking up at them.

“We wanted to ask you something, little bird,” said affectionally Hoseok, but you knew better than to fall for his smile.

“Are you fucking working for other people? Are you dating someone?” Namjoon raised his voice at the last words, staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

You widened your eyes and laughed humorless. They were psychos.

“What the-“

“Watch your mouth,” warned Hoseok, his lips turning a thin line.

“No, I’m not dating neither working for someone else. Happy?” you couldn’t help but sound angry.

The both of them went silent, looking at each other as if they’re having a mental conversation.

And they let you go.

You were on your way to your apartment. Their attitude today was the last straw, you got tired of them. You always noticed the red flags, ignoring the alarm bells and turning an eye blind.

You ignored Seokjin’s stains of blood, Yoongi’s silencer gun, and Namjoon and Hoseok erasing people. You told to yourself, out of sight out of mind. But that was your biggest mistake, you let your greed for money to blind you. For the first time you paid all of your bills without struggling, you ate well and wear the best clothes, and you didn’t worry for the tuition fee. But that doesn’t make you innocent or better than them, you were an accomplice, you were as greedy as them for money. You sold your morals in exchange of money, little money. You weren’t even rich.

Your chest stings painfully, and your eyes teared up. Your trembling lips let out ugly sobs, you were so ashamed of yourself.

You promised to yourself to be an independent woman but not be an accomplice of oppressors and criminals, but what choice did you have? Like people said, it’s eating or being eaten in this world.

It’s a man’s world, and you were simply a woman trying to survive.

You entered your dark apartment and grabbed your home phone, your bottom lip quivered when your mom answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Mom,” you sobbed, sitting on the floor and gripping tightly the phone.

“Y/n? Dear, what’s happening? Why are you crying, is everything okay?” Her worry only made you cry harder, you didn’t deserve it. She raised a better woman and you were a disappointment.

“I-i’m the worst, I want to go home mom… I’m sorry,” you whispered.

You tasted your salty tears, sniffling and hiccupping.

But then the phone was snatched from you.

You were so into your self-pity that you didn’t notice the four figures lurking in the dark.

The lights turn on, and you blinked confused screaming with terror when you saw all of your bosses staring at you.

Seokjin was the one who snatched and hang up the phone.

“Our little princess misses her mommy,” Seokjin coed with a fake pout, he lifted your body making you scream harder.

He took you to the couch where the others were sitting, the tall man sat you on his lap, gripping tightly your waist in a warning when you tried to squirm out of his grip.

“It’s okay princess, I can be your mommy or daddy if you want me to,” Seokjin mouthed your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. He sniffed your hair, hugging you tightly from your back.

You wanted to throw out.

“Let me go you sickos! I quit!” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

The apartment went painfully quiet. The tension can be cut with a knife.

But then Namjoon and Hoseok lips mouthed the skin of your neck, lapping each side of it.

You cried trying to move away, but they didn’t let you.

Yoongi squatted before you, with his lips brushing yours.

Their bodies were attached to every part of your body, not letting you breathe. Your senses full of them.

“Your ours,” whispered Yoongi against your lips.

And with dread you realized he was right.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg

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