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ahundredtimesover · 10 months ago

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I Want You to Stay (05) | 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, 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: 14.8k

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: I deeply appreciate all the love and messages (and anticipation for uh, stuff) but again, it's a slow burn! Thank you so much! 🥰

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the couch in his office, his iPad in hand as he goes through the Board report for the nth time these past five days.

Manager Lee and Chin-sun have put together the logistics, construction, and design departments’ reports with the VP’s and Jungkook is supposed to sign these off for submission to the CEO today, who then approves it for submission to the Board members. They have until Friday to review it in time for the meeting happening that same day.

This consolidated report was finalized last Wednesday and Jungkook has been reviewing it everyday since then, including his presentation, making minimal comments and then taking notes on things he’s unfamiliar with. Granted, he’s reporting about the quarter when he’s only been Vice President for a month, which makes you incredibly instrumental in his preparations. As the executive assistant, you have the information that Jungkook needs from Hoseok’s time, and so you’ve also been spending everyday since Wednesday answering all of Jungkook’s questions.

You don’t mind, really, as they’re details you know by heart. It also allows you to show him how involved and meticulous you were under Hoseok’s leadership, and Jungkook’s hums and mumbles of appreciation have helped you gain back the confidence that you lost.

Even if your self-esteem decreased this past month because of the very person sitting in front of you, the fact that Jungkook’s been showing - in his own ways - his trust in you is enough to lift your spirits. He did admit last week that he needs you - something you hadn’t expected him to say - and you could tell it took so much from him to be able to verbalize it. But you suppose you needed that honesty, too; you needed to know that after all that frustration and anger during the first few weeks, there was that realization on his end that you have his back, and you’re just as capable as what everyone has been saying you are.

“What information do you need from me, Mr. Jeon?” You finally ask.

It’s been a good five minutes since Jungkook had asked for you and you’ve just been standing in front of him while he scrolls through the screen, perhaps giving another final look before he finally sends the document to his father.

“Nothing,” he sighs, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. “I just… I just need someone to tell me to stop reviewing this report. I need this out of my sight but I can’t stop checking to make sure everything is okay.”

You look at him intently while he speaks. The tension in his entire face and body is visible, you can even feel it in the room. You feel for him, as he tries to hide the anxiety and desperation. You can tell that he just wants to do well so badly. With the amount of time he’s been spending just going through this, his perfectionist tendency surfaces, and you’re at least thankful that it hasn’t turned him back into an asshole. At least not yet.

“You need to stop reviewing the report, Mr. Jeon, and let it go,” you say as instructed but with sincerity in your words. “You’ve been on this for days. Manager Lee and Chin-sun have reviewed it, and so have I. CEO Jeon could still suggest changes and we won’t know them until he’s reviewed it, but we at least have the details ironed out. If I may suggest, you can send the file to him in the next hour so you can now focus on practicing for your presentation. That may be a better use of your time.”

Jungkook opens his eyes and turns to you. There’s assurance in your words and your voice and like what he told himself he’d do, he’ll trust you and the team. He’s seen how hard everyone has been working for this - Manager Lee and Chin-sun have done so well in consolidating and cross-checking everything; Do-hyun’s presentation is simple yet effective, and Yohan, who’s back from the hospital, has been adding in all the needed details. And there’s you, making sure that everything and everyone is on track, even as you prepare for Jungkook’s upcoming events.

“Okay, then,” he exhales deeply. “I’ll send it in the next half hour.”

Knowing he has a meeting set at 2PM, you ask him if you should order him lunch.

“Yes please,” he answers, saying he wants some braised beef from the restaurant on the next block. “Order for yourself as well, and the rest of the team. You can all get anything you want.”

The silence prompts Jungkook to look at you, and he’s met with a questioning gaze.

“Is there a problem?” He asks.

“N—no,” you answer. “I’d like to confirm again that I’ll be ordering lunch for you and all five of us.”

“Yes, Ms. Cho. That’s what I said.”

You remain unmoving as you wait for him to correct himself. This is the first time that Jungkook has offered to treat the team to a meal. Not that you’ve been waiting for it, but Hoseok took you all out to dinner on his first day as a welcome and a thanks in advance, and once you picked up that Jungkook wasn’t the type to engage with his staff much, you just didn’t expect anything. So takeaway lunch from a nice restaurant is definitely surprising.

“Okay, sir,” you say. “I will do that. I’m sure the team will appreciate it.”

Jungkook merely hums, his eyes focused on the screen now as you bow and head out.

You go meet the team and as you expected, everyone looks at you in shock.

“Did the real Mr. Jeon get abducted?” Do-hyun asks. “Because treating us is something he wouldn’t do.”

“Yah! It may be a month late but let’s just be thankful, okay?” You frown at her. “He can see that everyone’s been working hard and I’m sure he appreciates that, and he may not be able to say it but he can at least show us.”

“While he’s at it, he can maybe at least say thank you or you know, smile every once in a while,” Chin-sun sighs.

“We’ll get there. He knows he needs to do better and he will, I’ll make sure of that,” you assure them, thinking about the conversation from last week.

Jungkook wants you to help him and for his sake and everyone else’s, you’ll make sure that you do.

“Well, is he better to you?” Do-hyun asks, her face in a pout because she’s seen you skip meals several times and even cry, and she’d wanted so many times to just hug you, but she knows it’s not something you openly receive.

“Yes,” you say, knowing it will drive your point. “I’d like to think that the worst is over and I can just focus on doing better and helping him. It would be great if the rest of us could do the same.”

“She’s right,” Manager Lee chimes in. “We grow when we adapt, and much more when we’re able to move on and learn from our experiences. It hasn’t been the best month but it’s also just been a month. So let’s be grateful for the meal and just continue with the good work we’ve been doing, okay?”

You give them the warmest smile you can muster, hoping this would be enough.

It seems to be, as they all excitedly give their orders, which you and Yohan pick up from the restaurant. You return and after giving Jungkook his food, you head to the other room to eat as well.

The team enjoys the meal, with Do-hyun dramatically stating that it’s the best beef brisket she’s ever had. And you agree; there’s a reason why Jungkook gets this every week.

Jungkook can hear laughter and satisfied hums from the support team office, with Do-hyun, he supposes, claiming that it feels like Christmas. Yohan says it’s a much-needed post-recovery treat, and even Manager Lee - who’s often serious - cracks a few jokes. Jungkook can pick out your sound, too, noting the joy that emanates from it. He allows himself a small smile, knowing that given how he’s been to everyone this past month, he at least could give his team this highlight of their day.

He stands by the door, initially going unnoticed, until Chin-sun catches sight of him and alerts everyone that he’s there. The room goes silent, and Jungkook looks on as his staff quietly munch their food and bow to him in greeting. The teasing and laughter have gone; worried eyes are what he sees instead.

Your initial surprise at seeing him melts away. He rarely drops by for anything, even for a greeting or to just check up on the team, unlike Hoseok who liked to come here often to de-stress after long meetings. But you sense Jungkook’s awkwardness at the silence, with his hands in his pockets and his blank gaze, so you smile at him and hope that eases the tension a bit.

“Lunch was great, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “Thank you.”

“It was,” Manager Lee pipes in. “The roast pork was so delicious. The potato salad was very good, too.”

You look at the others and encourage them to say something as well, and they hum in agreement and say their thanks.

“The beef brisket was heavenly,” Do-hyun raves. “Thank you! I hope it’s not the last time.”

She awkwardly chuckles, realizing that her boss isn’t one she should be joking with, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to take offense, as he purses his lips - perhaps to hide a smile, revealing a tiny dimple that catches you off guard.

“It won’t be. And uh, it was a month late, so I’m glad you all enjoyed it,” he replies, a tinge of disappointment now painting his face.

There’s another moment of silence and you observe him, hands still in his pockets, looking around awkwardly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s greatly appreciated, sir,” you assure him once more. “We hope you had a good lunch as well.”

“I’m just about to have it, actually,” he says. “I sent the report to the CEO and he must’ve been waiting for it because he read it right away and called to give feedback.”

“Oh? How did CEO Jeon find it?” Manager Lee asks.

“He said it was good. There are just minor things he asked me to change but I can do them on my own,” Jungkook answers. “I appreciate everyone’s hard work. Now, we can focus on our upcoming events and the Arts Center.”

The team immediately starts packing and swallowing their food, and Jungkook has to stop them.

“Not right now,” he clarifies. “Continue with your meal. And don’t stay too late. We’ve got another busy week ahead.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” everyone says in unison.

Jungkook nods and starts walking away, leaving all five of you with confused looks, as Jungkook has never spoken to the team in such a calm and friendly manner. It was always firm and professional, low and stoic.

You scurry out the room and follow him. Jungkook gives you a questioning look when you enter his office shortly after he does, and you pick up his untouched lunch from the table and inform him that you’ll heat it up, knowing he doesn’t like to eat his food cold.

You go back to the pantry then return to Jungkook’s room, his beef brisket dish now properly placed in a bowl. He gives you a nod, his form of acknowledgment and thanks, you suppose, and you ask the question you’ve had since his earlier stop at the team’s office.

“Are the edits really just minor?” You wonder, knowing that CEO Jeon is meticulous and quite particular with these board reports.

Jungkook takes a moment to respond. He should know that you’ve done this a few times and are probably used to how his father is already, which means you’d see right through him as well.

“Well, they’re not major,” Jungkook says. “I mean, they’re not trivial corrections. The details are all good but I need to change some terminologies and framing and some construction of the sections based on the Board’s current concerns, especially about the Arts Center. They’re not that substantial but it’ll still take me an hour or so.”

“Why did you tell the team that they were minor, then?”

“So they won’t offer to help.”

“But they would. I would,” you tell him. “It’s our job.”

“I was going to ask, but it’s your break time. Everyone was enjoying their meals and each other. First time I’ve seen that, actually. I know it doesn’t happen when I’m around.”

“It’s just that you’re not—”

“Hoseok,” he finishes for you.

“Not someone they’re comfortable being themselves around,” you correct him.

“Yes, not like Hoseok,” he pushes.

“You said it the first day, Mr. Jeon. You do things very differently from your cousin. Your personalities are very different, too. We had him for three years and for Yohan and Do-hyun, he was their first boss,” you explain. “They’re just not used to you yet.”

“What about you? Are you used to me by now?”

There’s sudden tension in the room as he looks at you with the desire for honesty, and it’s what you give.

“I’m not quite sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t really know what he expected, as the question just slipped past his mouth before he could pull it back, so he just nods and proceeds to take his late lunch, wanting to forget that he’d asked at all.

You take this as a signal to head out, which you do, before reminding him that he can ask you for help if he needs another pair of eyes before he submits his part again. Jungkook just nods once more, and it’s later in the day, after the third cup of coffee that you take to his room, that he says his father’s already approved the version he sent after you went through it upon his request. You know that’s just half of what he needs to do though, as he’ll still need to present it to the Board this coming Friday.

“You may go home, Ms. Cho,” he says after he signs some documents for you.

“How about you, Mr. Jeon?” You ask.

It’s been a long day, an extension of an even longer weekend because he’d been at a work event and then reviewed the report as well.

“I’ll probably stay back and go over the presentation. Maybe practice a little.”

You purse your lips, holding something back.

“Should I not?” He wonders.

“Just thinking that it might be better for you to take a proper rest tonight,” you advise.

“I’ll think about it. It’s gonna be a tough one on Friday and I want to be prepared.”

“I understand,” you smile. “I’ll go ahead, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook holds your gaze for a while before he nods and returns to his screen, going through the presentation slides and the notes he scribbled on his iPad. But try as he might, the graphs and the words just go over his head.

He does need to rest, he thinks. He hasn’t really taken a break all weekend. His hookup from last night was the only relief he got, but that was to expend all the negative energy from the anxiety and stress, and he realizes that he probably doesn’t know what proper rest is, like what you suggested he have. He wonders if you’ve ever had one, or if it’s something you stopped having ever since you started working for him.

Taking your advice, he heads out. It’s only been 30 minutes and he assumes you’re already on the bus and on the way home. He sits in the passenger seat, letting Mr. Ri’s choice of music fill the car as Jungkook’s mind wanders to you - how you laughed at the team’s antics, how you got them to assure him, how you read him well, how you were patient and helpful, and how you seemed concerned about how tired he’s been.

He’ll chalk it up to you doing your job and helping him as he asked you to do; he always will. He can’t ever think that any of your actions mean more even if deep down, he wishes they do, only so he knows that you don’t hate him, that you’ve forgiven him for things he never apologized for, that you’ll stay for as long as possible. There’s something about your honesty and calm presence that stabilizes him, that makes him take a pause.

Jungkook’s worked hard on his career for the past decade and it’s all he focuses on; it’s all he thinks about. But when you’re there, he’s forced to stop and think about you. He’s noticed that just this past week - when you’re around, he listens; when you’re close to him, he breathes. Ironic, really, considering that every time you close the distance - when you fix his tie or look at his screen over his shoulder or help him retrieve portfolios - he remains still, his heart stopping and his throat drying up, afraid to take in your scent or to know just how fast his pulse would race or what words he’d say that he won’t be able to contain.

He’s afraid to know you, only because what he’ll learn might make him want you. And Jungkook knows that he can’t let himself feel that about you in any way.

He sighs as he looks out the window - cars in line to cross the intersection, people walking to their destination. He thinks he’s hallucinating as he sees your smile, but a bus blocks his view and Mr. Ri steps on the gas.

Outside, you smile to yourself as you wait in line. You were held up at the lobby because Bitna caught you in the elevator and didn’t want to let you go just yet, so you left the office just minutes ago and were waiting at the bus stop when a familiar car showed up and you saw Jungkook looking out the window. He opted to leave early, too; you can only hope he’ll take your advice and rest tonight.

But the thought that what you said prompted him to take a pause from work stirs something within. Maybe it’s because he’s finally listening to you, or that it seems like he trusts you now. Whatever it is, for as long as it makes your job bearable, you’re all for it.

It doesn’t take away from the moments you’ve shared where it seems like the world stops for a bit as you hold each other’s gazes for the shortest of seconds. There’s tension where there shouldn’t be, and there’s something different in his eyes when there used to be disdain, one which you can’t read nor identify. It leaves you still for the briefest of moments, unguarded and a little bare, as he seems to tell you something with just a look and you just don’t know what it is.

As you find a rare seat in the bus, you let the musings go. Jungkook is a man who holds in him a million thoughts a day and those moments with you seem to be his only reprieve; perhaps they’re also just instances of temporary lags or the rare silence and stoppage of everything. In some odd way, it allows you to see him as the human that he is - exhausted, unsure at times, but seemingly yearning for something.

There’s always an emotion or a thought or a word that he holds in, and you can only wish - as your relationship with him improves - that whatever it is he’s holding back, he’ll find a way to express it.

“Do you have any advice for the Board meeting?”

Jungkook slides the question in before Hoseok heads to the elevator and off to an event. They’ve just finished having a check-in with CEO Jeon, who wanted to make sure that the two of them are well-prepared for this Friday, given that presenting during these meetings and contributing to policy and strategy are crucial in their roles as President and Vice President. Jungkook won’t admit that it caused him a bit of anxiety, but he’ll surely take the chance to ask his cousin for tips on how to make sure that he doesn’t screw up.

“I do,” Hoseok answers as he holds off on pressing the button. “Ask your assistant. And then listen to what she says.”

Jungkook visibly sighs. “Hoseok, I mean it.”

“I mean it, too,” the older man replies. “If it’s anything about our strategic plan or policies, just take my lead. And it’s your very first so you’re expected to still be adjusting. If it’s about the presentation, let ___ brief you about it. She’s been with me every single time I had to present. When I was focused on what I had to say, she was focused on how the Board was reacting and how those translated to the questions they eventually asked. She’d know what you’ll need to emphasize on or who you need to be wary of.”

There’s an unsure look in Jungkook’s eyes, and Hoseok knows it isn’t about trusting you. It’s about him.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Hoseok asks. “What are you afraid of, Kook?”

“You know what they think of me,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t want to screw up and give them more reasons to doubt me because they already do. And they’re definitely gonna ask about the Arts Center. What if they bring up my disappointing social skills? I don’t wanna end up feeling inadequate and embarrassing father.”

“Keep thinking that way and you will,” Hoseok huffs. “Look. Our family owns the company. You and I were trained to run it after my sister and your brother decided they didn’t want to. The Board knows this. They’ll either stay in our good graces or plot against us. Your father knows that, too, and that’s why he’s being hard on both of us because he knows what we’ll have to face. That also just means he’ll always be on your side. He’ll always be on ours. The Board could be intimidating but we still hold the power. They’ll impose or question or cast doubt because they want to feel that sense of control. It’ll only affect you if you let them.”

“Okay” is all that Jungkook manages to say, a tinge of resignation on his face as he takes in his cousin’s words.

“You’ve managed worse people than them,” Hoseok assured him. “Just focus, stand by your project, and engage them. Simple as that.”

“Yes, it’s very simple,” Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Like I said, your assistant’s there for a reason, Kook. This is when I get to tell you that it’s her job. We would prepare together and debrief right after, and it always helped because she fills in gaps and informs me of things I missed. Trust me. Trust her.”

The thing is, Jungkook does; he doesn’t need to be reminded that he should trust you because he’s learned to do that, despite it seemingly impossible given that you both started off on the wrong foot. It’s the thought of spending more time with you, during a time when he’s still trying to get used to you and how you affect him, that makes him worried about this. But it’s not something he can talk about with Hoseok. It’s not something he can talk about with anyone.

“Fine,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. I’ll go now. Have dinner at home tomorrow, okay? And I’ll see you when I get back.”

Jungkook waves the older man goodbye and then returns to his office, where he finds you dropping some files off for signing.

“Payment requests for the event,” you explain, earning you a nod from him as he walks to his seat. “How did the meeting with your father go, Mr. Jeon?”

“As I expected,” he huffs. “A bit of encouragement, more of the pressure. He’d slide in reminders of what the Board thinks of me and how I should present myself.”

“Is the pressure helping?” You ask.

“A little,” he sighs, sinking into his chair and exhaling deeply. He rolls his head back and closes his eyes, allowing himself a few seconds of peace. “But I still need help. Hoseok said I can get it from you.”

“You know, he oversells me sometimes,” you manage to laugh, prompting Jungkook to look at you now. “I know I’m competent. But I don’t know about being your source of help for a Board meeting any more than providing you with data.” Jungkook likes to do things on his own after all, you think to yourself.

“But you’ve been to as many Board meetings as he has.”

“Yes, but only for his presentation.”

“And that’s what I need help with,” he says. “I just need direction, I guess. Or affirmation that how I’m doing it is the right way. Or tips on who to woo or who to not take seriously.”

Jungkook has been to a few Board meetings but he’s never had to present anything. He’s also never had to engage with the members so he didn’t pay much attention to them because he didn’t feel the need to. These appointments were all a few years too early, and while he’d had a critical position in the Southeast Asian headquarters, everything had gone through his uncle who headed the office then.

This is the first time that Jungkook feels the magnitude of all his decisions, and that every move he makes is being assessed. And even with his father and Hoseok giving him guidance, they have their own teams to manage and an entire company to run, just like him. Somehow, with all the people around him, Jungkook still feels alone.

You, with your perpetual presence and surprising warmth, are the only one who makes him feel otherwise. And it terrifies him more than anything.

“Well, I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” you hum. “I can maybe go through my notes and share them with you.”

“Good. I’d like to do that over lunch, since I’ll have you and Manager Lee watch me practice the presentation around 2.”

Jungkook picks up the slight fall of your face. “Is that a problem?” He asks. “Did you have lunch plans?”

“Nothing more important than assisting you, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a change of expression indicating that you indeed had prior commitments that you’re putting off because of him. “I’ll inform Manager Lee about meeting with him after.”

You head out and return to your desk to work on your remaining tasks for the morning until lunch time rolls by and you accompany Jungkook to a nearby restaurant as he’d asked. You try not to get too excited about the meal in front of you and then control yourself from letting out orgasmic sounds from the succulent piece of salmon that’s melting in your mouth. This check-in seems too important for Jungkook and you want to support him in any way you can.

“How was Hoseok during his first Board meeting?” Jungkook starts.

“Nervous, a little rattled. His sister left him behind with a lot of work and she was abroad for most of the time so they weren’t able to meet up,” you share. “But he got up there and presented all the office’s gains for the past months and then explained his plans moving forward. He had all these good ideas on policy and strategy and he articulated them well. He had to take over multiple small projects and he showed how he planned to manage all of them. His charms sort of hid away the anxiety he was feeling and I guess that eventually helped him get rid of it.”

“Well, that’s one thing I can’t claim that I have,” Jungkook sighs.

He looks at you to see your reaction, and the awkwardness on your face makes him internally laugh.

“I can lie to you if you want me to,” you say, and he chuckles, surprising you both, though he acts like he doesn’t mind.

“I’d actually want you to be as honest with me as possible, Ms. Cho. I don’t want you, of all people, to suck up to me to get on my good graces.”

“Great, since I wasn’t on it in the first place,” you trail, earning you another laugh, and you wish this could at least lessen the pressure he’s putting himself under.

“That’s true,” he says, holding your gaze. He turns to his food before he gets sucked in your gorgeous eyes even more. “But I mean it. I don’t exactly know how to charm people, much less the Board. I don’t want to add to the narrative they already have of me having terrible social skills. But I also don’t want them to think I’m being fake or pretentious.”

“If I may, you’ll botch that aspect if you keep thinking about it,” you advise. “Perhaps you can just focus on what you’re good at. Delivering a presentation, regardless of what it’s about, is a skill. You have all the information and I can add some more if you’re not confident with them. You also tweaked some existing processes and you can build on it. But also, the Arts Center will definitely be their focus, so talk about it the way you would with your father and the team… and me. You let us envision it with your words and your visuals and those are all you need.”

“Okay then. I’ll just imagine they’re all vegetables or something so I can focus.”

“Mrs. Doi likes making eye contact because she wants to feel like you’re conversing with her,” you say. “Mrs. Seo asks a lot of irrelevant questions but you have to answer as if they’re important. Mr. Ong likes being acknowledged every time he says something or even nods. So I don’t recommend acting as if they’re inanimate. Maybe just with Mr. Wang because he falls asleep in everything, but don’t take it personally. I think it’s a medical condition.”

Jungkook’s amused look encourages you to continue.

“Mr. Mun doesn’t really get design and building terms so you’d have to explain them at least twice. Mr. Bong tends to act all mighty but he doesn’t really know much. Same with Mr. Im and Ms. Hwa. The rest are fine,” you say. “Mr. Saito is very thoughtful. He’s a designer so his insights would be good. Ms. Cheng is unproblematic and overall just supportive. Mr. Yeon is just… there. They’re quite intense when it comes to profits and the company’s image but if you stand by what you know, they won’t really say much.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a lot to take in. And also very informative,” Jungkook states. “I never noticed any of those.”

“Well, you had your reasons to be in those meetings and maybe you didn’t have a reason to pay attention to them,” you shrug. “I do. I thought it was an added way that I could help Mr. Jung. Assistants are asked to sit on the side of the room so we can be easily signaled for anything and I thought I could use that position to observe the Board members and see how they respond to the presentation. It helped for the succeeding ones and it took the pressure off him in terms of needing to appease them.”

“Makes sense,” Jungkook hums. “Worrying about how they’ll react or what they’ll say is half of the pressure.”

“It is. I couldn’t help Mr. Jung for his first time because it was mine, too, but he picked things up quite easily. He knew who to pay attention to.”

“Well, considering that I don’t seem to be ideal for this relationship-heavy position, I’ll have to pay attention and appease all of them, it seems.”

“If I may, Mr. Jeon, you can take it as a challenge,” you advise, feeling more comfortable in being honest now. “I may be just a humble assistant but I’ve seen things. With all the praises for Mr. Jung - which are deserved, of course - I’ve witnessed his moments of distress, which is perfectly normal for anyone. A-yeong had to remind him of how good he was everyday because he needed that push and it helped him. It also helped that he was trying to prove something and that he was always told that he had all the qualities to do that.”

“Not everyone has a supportive wife like him though. Or like my father,” Jungkook laughs dryly.

“They had supportive assistants,” you offer, trying to be optimistic. “I had to fill-in as Mr. Jung’s sounding board and I was always in awe at his approach to things.”

“Which is very different from mine, I know,” Jungkook says unintentionally, the sigh making you feel like he’s tired of the comparison, and you feel a bit bad at having to seemingly remind him of that.

“And which isn’t bad at all,” you try to assure him. “Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s not right.”

Well, it wasn’t right to treat you the way I did, he wants to say, but the words stay in his head and at the tip of his tongue.

“That’s… comforting,” he says instead.

“I was trying to be assuring but comforting is fine, too,” you chuckle. “But I mean it, sir. I know there are all these expectations and I won’t be able to truly understand what the pressure is like but if you allow it to challenge you, you might even surprise yourself. And then you’ll end up surprising them, too. But do it for you. At the end of the day, they’re just the Board but you’re the Vice President. And you’re you. You’re all you can control.”

There’s a beat of silence as Jungkook takes in everything you’d said. You have this persistence about you that’s reflected in the way you carry yourself and in the way you relate with others, especially towards him despite how he’d treated you not long ago. Regardless of what you said, he thinks you know exactly what he feels when it comes to dealing with pressure. He supposes that working for his family can do that to someone, especially when it’s him.

“Such moving words, Ms. Cho,” he finally says.

“I didn’t mean to give unwanted advice,” you shake your head in disappointment.

“I needed it though,” he surprises you. “Other than Hoseok or even Yoongi, who are both busy themselves, I only have you as a sounding board. And as support. So, uh, thanks.”

He says his gratitude with a soft tone, almost embarrassingly. You can tell it’s something he doesn’t say that often, but you take it, as you think it’s another step towards him trusting you even more. And you need that trust for now; it’s this peaceful and honest dynamic with him that’s making your job bearable.

Lunch continues with Jungkook asking more questions about some of the Board members and you dishing some dirt on some of them as what you’ve heard in the office washrooms, perhaps the only gossip you don’t take with a grain of salt. He’s amused, and you think this is the most expressive you’ve seen him.

You proceed to meet with Manager Lee in the conference room where Jungkook goes through each slide presentation, asking both of you for more information he thinks he needs and about how he’s carrying himself, his tone, his pace, and his engagement. It’s good enough for a first run-through, Manager Lee says, and Jungkook decides to dry-run it again on Thursday.

The rest of your day goes by a little stressfully. There are multiple events that you have to organize and coordinate with other offices, and those are what you work on until you clock out on time.

Jungkook stays behind for only half an hour before deciding he’s had enough of looking through his notes and will return to them tomorrow. He takes the elevator and nods when Yoongi enters.

“Hey,” Jungkook greets. “How are the designs for the Changwon mid-rise?”

“It’s 6:00. I don’t wanna talk about work,” Yoongi whines.

Jungkook knows this. It’s also why he likes to tease his friend about it.

“Fine. We can just stand next to each other awkwardly until we have to get off,” Jungkook says.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums. “Or, we can talk about how my lunch plans changed because someone asked my lunch partner for a meeting.”

The tension immediately rises and Jungkook hates how affected he is by Yoongi’s teasing.

“Ah, so it was you. Well, she did say it wasn’t as important as what we were meeting about,” Jungkook hits back.

“True. It’s about the Board meeting after all. It’s a pretty big deal.”

Jungkook starts to feel hot all over, as the thought of you and Yoongi conversing about your thwarted lunch plans because of him plays in his head. It’s a mix of frustration and disappointment. While the meeting was in no way confidential, he just hates the idea that it was something you shared with Yoongi. Perhaps it’s just after the fact, considering that Jungkook thinks it was a good lunch. You clearly enjoyed the dish - he could see how you tried to control your reactions to it - and your conversations went by smoothly. You were honest and supportive; he was open and all the more surprised with how well you were able to calm him down. It’s as if someone else was privy to that moment you both shared, even if Yoongi wasn’t there.

“Huh, I thought you were over her,” Jungkook says, the bitterness slicing through. If his friend picks it up, he doesn’t say anything.

“I am. We were just gonna have lunch at this noodle house because she was craving it,” Yoongi clarifies. “I told you, I’m her only friend here. It’s nice to share a meal with someone who cares about you every once in a while, you know? It’s hard being a working adult and we all need a bit of a break and a companion sometimes. It didn’t mean anything more than that.”

Jungkook chooses not to respond and Yoongi could tell why. There’s this look of annoyance painting the younger man’s face, which makes him a lot more transparent than he wishes he was.

But Yoongi can see right through his friend. It’s not something he raises though, but he won’t be surprised if Jungkook dwells on this. He just hopes it isn’t to your detriment again.

The ride home wasn’t as terrible last night, and after your elder neighbor gave you some stew because she cooked too much, you had a satisfying dinner and an even more satisfying slumber.

You feel like the end of the week isn’t too far ahead - although there really isn’t anything exciting for you except for a date with your bed - and you just want to get through all your tasks for the day and get that jjajangmyeon that Yoongi said he’ll get for you today so you can eat it for dinner. You were initially upset at having to pass up on him for yesterday’s lunch, but you’d be the first to admit that sharing that meal with Jungkook was still worthwhile.

Not only was the dish you ordered one of the best things you’ve ever eaten, it was also nice to see Jungkook loosen up a bit after feeling tense all morning because of his presentation. You liked that he’s being open to getting support from you, as it seems that he sees you now as more than just the assistant who’s there to serve him. He seems to appreciate your thoughts and didn’t even act bitterly when you gave him unsolicited advice. You feel even more that your relationship improves daily.

That is, until you enter his penthouse this Wednesday morning with barely a look of acknowledgement from him. Going through your routine, he doesn’t say much; he stays silent the entire ride to the office as well.

When you enter his room to serve his coffee, his furrowed brows have returned and his jaws are clenched as he types away on his desktop.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, his voice stern once again.

You turn around to face him, wondering what has happened since you left the office yesterday.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“I just wanted to raise that while I understand you have personal relationships with other employees, I do not appreciate you divulging the topics of our meetings with them. Even if they’re my friend as well.”

His last sentence gives away who he’s talking about, and the conversation with Yoongi after you canceled your lunch plans with him rings in your head.

It was a harmless statement, you want to say; you didn’t share any more than it being a meeting about his presentation. There was no ill-intent in you telling Yoongi why you couldn’t see him for lunch. But you choose to pass up on reasoning with Jungkook. He builds his wall up even more when you do, and you don’t want things to be that way again, not when they seemed to be going okay already these past few days.

So you nod and concede. “I understand, Mr. Jeon, and I apologize. I won’t do it again.”

Jungkook can’t help but just look at you, internally smacking himself as your face falls further and as you, once again, feel far away because of his own stupidity.

“Is there anything else you need, sir?”

He shakes his head no, and you bow in response, heading out, with the sadness in your eyes as the last thing he sees.

Jungkook is unable to focus on his emails and the conference call he takes part in. The words and thoughts are all jumbled when he practices his presentation, as his gaze constantly flits to your spot just outside where you sit, doing your tasks while looking detached and dejected.

He assumes you didn’t come to work expecting to be called out the way he did with you, which in hindsight, didn’t seem necessary, especially knowing how it’s affecting you right now. Things were going well between both of you after all - he’s being more open and you’re being more comfortable. Information was flowing smoothly, and communication has improved. And he just went ahead and screwed all that up.

Jungkook starts to feel stuffy. He’s been in his office working on things for the Arts Center and practicing most of the day, with you only coming in to bring the lunch he’d asked Mr. Ri to buy and his cups of coffee. You’ve avoided his gaze and haven't said much to him, too.

He decides to take a walk outside. The outdoor space on this floor has nice benches and a small garden that overlooks the Han River. He’s seen the team eat there sometimes, and while the weather may be a little too hot for it, he’d much rather breathe in the air than his humidifier.

But as he takes his time to open the door, he hears a familiar voice from outside.

“Fine, if you won’t take the sandwich, at least take the noodles,” Yoongi says. “You’ve been craving that all weekend.”

“Not anymore,” you huff, seemingly annoyed.

“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Yoongi asks, calm and understanding in tone, traits that Jungkook could only hope to have.

“No… I don’t know,” you sigh. “Just that, whatever I talk to you about or mention, other people don’t need to know them, okay? No matter how harmless they are. Let’s just… not talk about work stuff. Especially in the office. That’s it.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

“What do you—”

“Mr. Min,” Jungkook calls out, fully opening the door now. “I have design guidelines I need you to go over. I need them by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Jungkook,” Yoongi bitterly replies, knowing what’s happened. “Just send them over to me.”

“Ms. Cho will do that right now.”

You nod in acknowledgement of Jungkook’s instruction and remain focused on your desktop. There’s silence in the air and tension that you can’t deal with right now.

“Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Min?”

“Nah. If I do, I’ll check with your boss first if I can ask you for it. Don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

You finally look up at him, a tinge of annoyance painting his face, a rarity since Yoongi doesn’t seem to ever be irate about anything.

“And I’ll just take this jjajangmyeon if you don’t want it,” he adds, taking the container that’s on the ledge of your desk with him, before walking out of your area.

You can’t help the pout that forms on your lips. You really love that noodle house’s version and you’ve been craving it for days. It’s where you and Yoongi were both supposed to have lunch yesterday but Jungkook spoiled it, and it wouldn’t have mattered as much, until it became a reason for him to be upset with you again. You’re not exactly sure why, but much as you want to question your boss this time, you don’t have the energy for it. It doesn’t seem worth it, but it also doesn’t change the fact that Yoongi might have said something to Jungkook, and that’s a dynamic you’re still unsure how to read or deal with.

Your gaze shifts to the man himself, who looks less annoyed than he did at the start of the day. You don’t know how his practice has been going, since he hasn’t asked you to run it with him, but you suppose he’s doing alright. He’s been in his room all day doing that and taking calls in between.

Jungkook looks away and heads out. He lets the summer air clear his mind a little before he goes back inside. It’s 6PM by the time he emerges from his room, surprised at seeing your face still buried in piles of papers.

“Ms. Cho, I’ll be heading to Hoseok’s for dinner,” he says, getting your attention. “Anything that needs my signature or approval can wait tomorrow.”

He hopes you’ll read through his words, as he wishes you’d take a rest yourself, like you advise him to do.

“Finance needs your expense reports first thing tomorrow morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, a little too stoic than he’s used to. “These can be signed tomorrow when you arrive.”

Jungkook just nods, knowing there’s not much he can do if you don’t want to go home yet. But he does leave you with a reminder.

“Ms. Cho,” he says before leaving. He’s met with curious eyes that he tries not to fall into. “Make sure to eat a proper dinner.”

He walks out too quickly, not wanting to see your reaction.

You’re too tired to react, but that just pushes you to finish all your work and head to the pantry for some biscuits. It’s then that you see the paper bag with a note on it.

For ___. Do not touch!

At the back, Yoongi writes, I’m sorry. Here’s a man who knows how to apologize, you think to yourself.

The bowl of jjajangmyeon is inside, as well as a container of gimari. The scent reminds you of how hungry you are, so you heat up the noodles and inhale your dinner as you stand by the table. The empty office and the faint sounds of the air conditioning make you think of how alone you really are - working past your hours on a Wednesday evening, a takeaway meal from a friend you’re pushing away, and a stressful trip back to your empty studio apartment.

You rarely ever feel lonely. You don’t equate being alone with that specific emotion or state. There’s certainty and clarity you get from being on your own. But on certain days, you let yourself crack a little and be vulnerable. On certain days, you let yourself admit that being alone makes you feel lonely, and that at this precise moment, it’s exactly what you feel.

You send Yoongi a message of thanks but don’t extend the conversation after he replies. You know it isn’t his fault, and knowing him, he wouldn’t have deliberately said anything that would’ve put you in this position. It could just be Jungkook misconstruing things, but you’ve been caught off guard and you don’t feel like dealing with anyone right now.

Resuming your work, you do your last review of the expense report and leave it on his desk for his signature in the morning - a struggle considering how messy it is, which is also a rarity, as he always likes to keep things organized. You can tell how stressed he is just by this, and the thought hits you again that it’s the Board meeting in two days, and he needs you to be your best for him; he needs you to be calm and stable for him.

Whatever you’re feeling can be pushed to the side until next week. You’ll talk to Yoongi after all this is over, you tell yourself; it’s more important that you focus on your tasks and just act as professionally and as unbothered as possible.

That proves to be easy early the next morning. You go about preparing Jungkook’s day in his penthouse, going over your coordination and organization of the upcoming events and acting as if what happened yesterday doesn’t bother you, with him not acting out of the ordinary, too. It’s easy when you get to the office as well. He signs off on the expense reports and you go to finance with only minimal clarifications needed.

But when you return to your desk and Jungkook calls you to his room, you feel the tension start to build as you find Yoongi seated on the chair, his face turning sullen at the sight of you.

You nod at him but look away immediately, shifting your gaze towards Jungkook.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Jeon?”

“Deciding on the pieces to be displayed in the event halls of the Arts Center,” he replies. “Artist Lee Jaemin gave us her portfolio for us to choose from. And I’d like you and Yoongi to work on it together before lunch.”

This prompts you to look at Jungkook in surprise. He just told you off about the things you told Yoongi - which, to your defense, wasn’t even anything substantial - and now he’s making you work with the man.

“What about the run through of your presentation, sir?” You ask.

“I’ll do it with Manager Lee. His feedback will be adequate,” Jungkook replies. “I need your options because I’ll be speaking with her tonight about the chosen pieces.”

“I…, uh,” you stutter. “In what way can I be of help, Mr. Jeon? Wouldn’t Mr. Min be enough to make those decisions?”

“You hold the budget, Ms. Cho,” he reminds you. “We need to make sure we follow it. And you and Mr. Min understand my vision more than anyone and I need both of you to bring that to life with those artworks. I’m packed with meetings today so I don’t have time to sort through all of them. I trust that you’ll make the best decisions.”

“Of course we will, Jungkook,” Yoongi says, a bit of bitterness laced in it. “___ and I work well together. It isn’t the first time.”

Jungkook merely nods, and you feel the tension build up even more as both men share hardened looks that you can’t particularly decipher.

“I… I’ll go ahead and prepare the conference room. I shall see you there shortly, Mr. Min.”

You exit the office and breathe a sigh of relief from being out of there. You don’t know what their friendship is like, so you’re unsure if the tension is a sign of something serious or if it’s just a normal thing for them. You choose to brush it off for now and prepare for the meeting, walking to the pantry for a cup of tea before you do.

Back inside, both men remain unmoving, their gazes not faltering away from each other. Yoongi’s look of displeasure is a contrast to Jungkook’s somber, almost guilty face.

“Driving a wedge between us is kind of an asshole move, you know?” Yoongi finally says. “I don’t know what your deal is but this isn’t how you make it up to her. You don’t get to be nice one day then just decide you’ll be jealous and irrational the next without her even knowing what she did.”

“That’s… that’s not what I was trying to do,” Jungkook reasons.

“Then what were you trying to do?” Yoongi scoffs. “I was the one she turned down to have lunch with you. Actually, it was her plan, because she’s been spending so much time alone and she just wanted to hang out with a friend. And not only did you hinder that, you also made her feel like she did something wrong when all she said was that you had to talk about the Board meeting. No one would even bat an eye. Now she can’t even talk to me properly without fearing it’ll hurt your fragile ego.”

The truth is a huge slap on Jungkook’s face, and he feels it sting. He’s seen your comfort around his friend a few times. He also knows that Yoongi has been looking out for you when you fail to take care of yourself. And because of that jealousy and his fragile ego, you might just end up pushing Yoongi away, and isolating you is the last thing Jungkook wants to do.

He tries to say something but his throat dries up, knowing that verbalizing anything would prompt him to face feelings he’s trying so hard to suppress. He hopes Yoongi sees right through him, and the sullen look of the older man says he might.

“You’re not a bad person, Jungkook,” Yoongi says. “I don’t know what about her makes you like this. But if all you’ll do is find fault in everything she does, you’re gonna lose all the progress in your relationship. And you've got to know that’s not fair to her. You know she doesn’t deserve that.”

“She doesn’t.”

It’s the way Jungkook says the words that Yoongi knows his friend regrets what he’d done, perhaps not just yesterday but the other times as well. There’s this emptiness in Jungkook’s eyes that Yoongi hasn’t seen before; he doesn’t want the younger man to drown and lose himself in it.

“I’m… I’m, uh—”

“I know,” Yoongi interjects, knowing how hard it is for Jungkook to verbalize what he feels. “And I forgive you. I suggest you find the words and say them to her. Yeah?”

Jungkook merely nods, knowing that would be difficult for him, not because he won’t mean it but because they mean so much more. With you, it always does.

“I’ll head to meet with her now.”

“Please fix it,” Jungkook almost pleads. “I think she needs you.”

Yoongi gives a look of understanding then heads out to the conference room where he finds you seated already. The lights are dim, allowing him to see Lee Jaemin’s art pieces projected on the wall. You’re focused on your laptop screen, not budging even as he opens the door and sits next to you.

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks, urging you to look at him.

“No,” you say softly.

“Then why do you act like you still are?” He asks sullenly. “You know I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault though,” you reply, finally turning to him, your own soft eyes mirroring his. “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“But I want to. Because I know it matters that you hear the words even if they’re not from the person who needs to be saying them.”

“You know he doesn’t do that,” you sigh, knowing exactly who he means.

“He’ll have to learn how to. Or just stop having a reason to apologize in the first place.”

“We’ll see about that,” you shrug. “But I’m sorry, too. I just didn’t know how to act yesterday and earlier. I just didn’t want any more drama.”

“I know, and it’s okay. It’s not your fault either. I had to call him out for it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I called him an asshole.”

“You–what?”

“Well, sort of. He had to hear it, and it seemed like he knew it, too. That's why he wanted me to fix things. Not that anything was broken, as far as I know.”

“Is that why he made me meet with you?”

“Yes, about something that he and I could easily do over coffee or a meal,” Yoongi chuckles. “But like I told you before - he tries. It’s usually just a misstep or something more complicated than actually saying sorry.”

“It’s hard for him to say, I guess. Maybe he just has his own ways of saying them.”

“It’s still not an excuse to be an asshole though.”

“At least you’re there to call him out for it,” you chuckle.

Yoongi laughs along, knowing it’s a role in Jungkook’s life that he wouldn’t mind taking. And just like that, the tension between the two of you is gone. He throws in a few jokes in there that take seconds for you to process, and it’s his crinkled smile that makes you smile and feel comfortable as well. It’s the icebreaker you need before getting to work, and it takes you both until lunchtime to decide on which of Lee Jaemin’s pieces you think would fit well in the event halls that Jungkook wants to put them in.

It’s a different experience for you, as you’ve never made decisions like this before. You wouldn’t say you’re artistic in any sense, but Yoongi’s approval of your choices and agreement with your reasoning make you feel that you aren’t as design-blind as you think. And while Jungkook has the final say - you’re not even sure if your choices would make the final cut - it’s still satisfying to see the empty spaces come to life on your screen with artworks that you chose with Yoongi, while still being within budget.

You both walk back to your work area where you see Manager Lee, and he tells you that Jungkook seems ready for tomorrow’s Board meeting. You enter his office with Yoongi, presenting what you’ve come up with - the greens and pinks common in her pieces give the room so much life, and the imperfections of her subjects leave viewers with much to admire. From the tropics to intimacy, the bright yet muted palette of the images elicits both joy and loneliness.

Jungkook goes through them while you and Yoongi look on.

“I’ll check each piece again later,” Jungkook says. “But these look good; I’d choose these myself.”

“___ chose most of them,” Yoongi says, earning him a glare from you.

“Is that so, Ms. Cho?” Jungkook asks.

“Mr. Min helped. And those pieces just spoke to me, I guess,” you answer shyly. “They’re beautiful pieces, Mr. Jeon. But I don’t have any arts or design background so please feel free to change them.”

“We’ll see,” he says, looking at you with a kind of affirmation that you’re not used to.

You nod in response and check the time. He’s got another meeting in an hour and he should be having lunch soon.

“What would you like to eat, Mr. Jeon? I can get it for you,” you say.

“No need. I asked Mr. Ri to get me something. I figured you might have lunch plans,” Jungkook responds, glancing at you and then Yoongi.

You look at the man next to you, who motions towards the door and you get what he means immediately.

“Okay, Mr. Jeon. I’ll go take my break now.”

You walk out with Yoongi who asks you what you’re craving, and sweet and sour pork comes to mind. He chuckles at your excited face, and you grab your purse and head out, turning back once to catch Jungkook watching you walk away.

Maybe this is his apology. In whatever form it is, you’ll take it. You find sometimes that the silence in place of words means a lot more, in ways that feel more.

The rest of your afternoon again feels like a blur, as you meet with the support team about the upcoming events and make sure everyone is on the same page. You spend an hour on the phone with Lucas about some Singapore and Malaysia-based Korean artists who are flying for the project launch in a few weeks while Jungkook goes from one virtual meeting to another.

It’s 5:30 before you know it, and you’re working on your spreadsheets when Jungkook walks out of his office, saying that he’s meeting with Lee Jaemin later in the evening and that he’ll just update you about the final pieces.

You acknowledge him and wish him goodbye, but he stops on the way, at the entrance towards the hallway, making sure he remains present while unable to see you.

“Ms. Cho,” he calls out, surprising you.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“About what I said yesterday, I apologize,” he says, almost stuttering. “Especially if it caused a rift between you and Yoongi. I didn’t intend that.”

You’re too shocked to say anything, much more process the words that you can’t believe he’s saying. But he really is apologizing; he really is trying.

“It… it’s okay, Mr. Jeon. I understand.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re left to observe him from this angle - jaws clenched, head bowed down.

He deeply exhales. “I’ll go now. No need to stay late; you can go home when you’re able.”

“Okay, sir. Have a good night.”

He finally leaves, and the silence engulfs you. Sometimes, words in any form truly matter. You could only hope that Jungkook knows that.

The suit that you choose for Jungkook for today’s big day is a dark gray textured piece. He looks immaculate as he stands before you, and you try your best to even your breathing as you fix his tie like you do every morning. There’s something about him today that makes him more handsome than usual - a quality that you’ve found yourself admitting and accepting more easily as the days go by. He exudes a certain kind of confidence and power with his attire and his parted hair. There’s determination in his eyes as he stands tall, ready to face the day.

And you’re there, admiring the way he carries himself just inches away.

You fix the collar of his suit and make sure that all creases are flattened. You meet his eyes and the confidence melts away a little.

“Do I look respectable enough?” He asks, a little less serious than you expected. It’s when you see the nervousness in his eyes that you know how important today is for him.

“Yes,” you assure him. “You also look ready to impress the Board members with your presentation and get them on your side. I’m sure your vision about the Arts Center will make them believers.”

“Ah, well, that’s asking for too much, I guess,” he laughs dryly. “But I was on the call with Lee Jaemin last night and she was so excited for the launch. It would get her to visit Seoul often, she said, and that made me realize that artists like her and the consumers, the ordinary people, the ones who the Center is for - they’re the ones who matter. It’s their interest and appreciation that I value, not the Board’s.”

“That’s a good realization to come to, then, Mr. Jeon,” you smile, suddenly feeling like you’re seeing a different man - someone who cares about meaning and the power of art. “I suppose if that’s your mindset coming into the meeting, then you’ll definitely do well.”

“I think if there’s at least one other person who ends up believing in the value of the Center, that would be enough for me,” he says, holding your gaze for a while before turning away. “But uh, today is more than that. You and I both know they’re there to assess my capabilities - social and otherwise - and definitely point out what I lack, or probably tell me I’m not cut out for this job or that I’m terrible or something. I mean, you would know, right?”

His eyes, focused downward, slowly shift to you. You know what he means, and given that he isn’t the type to admit to things, this is probably the only other time that he comes close to acknowledging how he was to you.

“Mr. Jeon, if you’re indeed terrible, I would have quit after a week. Or… well, after the second day,” you admit.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I couldn’t afford to,” you chuckle to ease the tension. “But also I… I saw the change. And that’s always a good thing. Lacking something is normal. We all have things we need to work on but that doesn’t make us terrible people. That just means we need a bit of understanding from others. And that also means we just have to keep trying to be better.”

There’s a sullenness in Jungkook’s eyes but there’s acceptance and understanding, too. Perhaps it’s the most sincere you’ve seen him look, and of all the days that he needs assurance about how he’s been, today is when he needs it the most. Sure, there are still things about him that you wish he’d work on. He’s still not the best person in the world. He could still be a bit impulsive with you and can sometimes be irrational in your eyes and definitely needs work on dealing with his emotions. But he’s trying. That always counts for something.

“We do,” he nods.

“Your father believes in you. Hoseok believes in you, so does Yoongi.” Holding his gaze, you add, “so do I. So trust in yourself. If you can’t do it for you, you can do it for us.”

“Is giving pep talks part of the job description?”

“It should,” you giggle. “But I’ve given several of them to Mr. Jung. I’ve learned that during stressful moments or just when we’re a little overwhelmed, it makes a difference to hear the things we already know from someone else.”

“I’m a little stubborn, but I hope you continue doing that for me. For as long as you think I deserve it.”

Jungkook doesn’t know where the honesty and vulnerability are coming from. But he’s found that with you, it’s natural - difficult because they’re things he rarely is around other people, but natural. He doesn’t want to question it anymore for fear of learning what else is instinctive for him when it comes to you. But with the way his insides melt with how you sweetly and assuringly smile at him, he realizes that his defenses against you are not that strong to begin with.

“Well, we don’t have time to pass by a cafe for a nice breakfast so I asked Mr. Ri to get some instead,” you announce, changing the subject now.

You walk towards the dining room where he follows, and you present a spread of pastries, walnut tarts, and sausage rolls alongside a large cup of coffee.

“I don’t really eat before a big meeting,” he says, frowning a little. “I’m sure Lucas told you that.”

“He did, but I’m a little stubborn, too,” you counter. “Breakfast is important before a big meeting, Mr. Jeon. It’ll help you focus, even if that’s just one tart or half a danish or a quarter of a roll. Eating will improve your energy levels and lift your mood. It might help ease your nerves somehow.”

“Fine, but I’ll just have half a roll.”

“No worries. You can always eat some more throughout the day,” you say.

Jungkook ends up finishing the entire roll and a walnut tart, while you finish a danish and settle for tea. You pack up what’s left, and he instructs you to give the rest to the team.

The car ride is quiet, save for the gentle sound of his pencil gliding through the pages of his leather notebook. He seems to be channeling his energy in a way that allows him to be calm, you think, and that’s a good thing.

You arrive at the building and Jungkook goes straight to his office while you excuse yourself to go to the conference room to help the other assistants prepare it. You don’t see Jungkook until an hour later when he enters, and you lead him to his seat then serve his coffee afterwards. It gets busy quickly as the Board members arrive, and you help in ushering them to their seats and catering to their needs. Before you know it, the assistants are heading out, leaving them and the executives to discuss confidential matters that none of you are required to know.

It’s another two hours before the presentations start, but Jungkook won’t go until after lunch. So you settle in your desk and work on various things, unable to fully focus because your mind constantly goes to him.

This is normal, you convince yourself; you had the same nervous energy for Hoseok the first time he did this. But then again, it was your first time, too. Perhaps it’s knowing how much it means to Jungkook and his own worries that makes you feel uneasy.

You understand the feeling of wanting to prove oneself, and not always being able to fully express that desire to others. He’s been honest with you recently, and sometimes it can feel quite isolating when no one is there to share the burden, which is why you’ve been trying to cheer him up and encourage him, in hopes that he’ll feel supported, that whatever happens today, he knows he has you on his side.

You proceed to the function hall for the catered lunch where you meet Jungkook. He shares the table with Hoseok and Bitna, as well as Ji-woo and her assistant, and you engage in conversation with them like old times.

Jungkook watches you speak to his cousins casually but respectfully, and he doesn’t miss the inside jokes and personal details that you all share. You still look a little reserved, but there’s this comfort in the way you express yourself around people who trust and care for and respect you.

He’s always known Hoseok and Ji-woo to be great with the employees, and a part of Jungkook envies that they’re able to just share parts of themselves with others, that they’re able to expend their time and energy being around them, something that’s always been difficult for him. He likes his privacy, likes his own space; he revels in the silence to battle the noise in his head. He’s protective of his thoughts and his feelings; he’s particular with who uses his time and energy on; he keeps his distance because it’s always easier - to not be involved, to not be invested, to not be known at all rather than be judged because of what people know.

He also thinks it’s quite isolating. Outside of his family - whom he keeps his distance from as well - the only person who knows him enough is Lucas, but it’s as shallow as just knowing his preferences and his technical opinion on things, not his dreams or fears or everyday thoughts and emotions.

Jungkook isn’t someone that people go to for advice or for encouraging words; he’s not someone that people ask about how he’s doing; he’s not a person that others seek for comfort or warmth. He’s just a man who does his work, that people serve, that people want approval from for their own gains. He’s not someone they’d go through lengths for. He just takes up space that others orbit around but he’s not the center of their world; he isn’t anybody’s.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Jeon?” You disrupt his thoughts. “Is there anything you want?”

“Chocolate milk,” he says too quickly. “Uh, only if there is.”

“Hot?”

“Yes.”

You call the server and ask if they have any, but the man says they don’t, so you decide to head to one of the stalls at the food hall downstairs.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook says, pulling your wrist in reflex as you stand up.

You’re caught off guard and so is he, and he immediately lets go and apologizes for it. The guilt in his eyes is similar to the one you saw at the restaurant when you’d admitted that he made you feel uncomfortable, and something about it makes you feel moved.

“I mean, uh, it’s okay. It’s not urgent,” he adds, looking away.

“If it’ll help, then I should get it for you, Mr. Jeon,” you insist. “It won’t take long. I’ll be back before lunch ends.”

You don’t wait for a response and head out, leaving Jungkook with curious looks from his cousins.

“So, I see you’ve warmed up to her already,” Ji-woo hums, smiling.

“You could say that,” Jungkook shrugs, acting nonchalant.

“Well, it’s about time you did,” Ji-woo shakes her head. “She works incredibly hard and she’s very reliable.” At the younger man’s nod in agreement, she adds, “you just had to give her a chance. There’s a reason why uncle and Hoseok wanted her around for you.”

“I guess,” Jungkook hums. “She’s… she’s a good person. I don’t really know if I deserve that but she is to me. She’s required to be, I suppose.”

“Or she sees you as a human being who needs a bit of warmth and joy in his life,” Ji-woo suggests. “Kindness goes a long way, you know? She’s said before that there are people who have extended it to her and maybe she’s just doing that, too.”

“Or maybe she sees something in you,” Hoseok says now.

“Like what?” Jungkook scoffs, knowing himself that after he’s treated you, there’s no way you’d see something in him, whatever that is.

“Like an emptiness, or yearning. Something she feels, too,” Hoseok responds. “Maybe she’s unknowingly making you feel something that she wants to feel herself, you know? I had A-yeong, my sister, my parents, my friends... Seeing her now with you, she didn’t pay attention to my every need the way she’s doing now, and that’s not a criticism of her. Perhaps she just knew that I had other people to do that.”

“And I’m the lonely, single, friendless man that she’s stuck with,” Jungkook laughs dryly, although he’s not offended. Deep down, he knows it’s true.

“Sort of,” Hoseok chuckles. “But what I really mean is that she knows what it’s like to not have someone to look after her like that. You may think it’s just her job but I think it’s her not wanting you to feel like there’s no one there for you. Maybe if you see it that way, you wouldn’t think you don’t deserve it. Then you can accept it and maybe you can do the same.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jungkook counters, given that keeping his distance is exactly what he plans to do because any closer would just lead him down a path that he won’t be able to escape from.

“It’s not that deep,” Ji-woo says. “I think what my brother is saying is that it’s okay to be friends, you know? Or just allow her to be nice to you and then return the favor. It’s a much better dynamic. I mean, I’m sure he’s told you but things are just gonna be more challenging down the road, once you’re past the adjusting phase. You’ll need her like you’ve never needed anyone before. I do mean that professionally, but that also requires a kind of relationship where you know and trust and respect each other. It goes both ways.”

Jungkook takes in his cousins’ words, knowing that they speak from experience, and they’ve been doing this longer than he has. He already knows he needs you. That itself terrifies him. He also knows he has to rely on you, and maybe that entails allowing you to care for him in ways that no one - not since Chaerin, at least - has ever done before. That means letting you come close, allowing you to know him, letting you be there for him. Doing the same for you isn’t a question of whether he wants to or not - he’ll probably be denying it to his grave, but it’s about whether he can remain within the boundaries he set for himself, knowing already how you affect him without even doing much.

The thought gives Jungkook a headache, but it’s not something he can give attention to right now. He’s got a presentation to do in less than an hour. He’ll be scrutinized and questioned and probably judged and then he realizes it again - he needs you through all that. He already knows you’ll be encouraging and supportive; you’ve shown that in the past week especially, and he’s appreciated and hated every single moment of it.

The hurried footsteps signal that you’re back, and you take your seat next to him.

You’re panting as you place the cup on the table. “Here you go, Mr. Jeon. I’m not sure if it’s as milky as you want it but the really good cafe downstairs said it should be good. Oh and uh, wrap your hands around it,” you instruct, earning you a curious look. “Your hands are very cold.”

Jungkook does as you say, feeling the warmth of the drink through his skin, even more when he takes a sip and finds that it tastes just as he wanted.

“This is good. Thank you,” he utters, not wanting to meet your eyes.

You exhale a sigh of relief. You know how he has particular tastes and you just went with a hot chocolate even if he specifically said he wanted chocolate milk. There’s a brand he likes from Lucas’ list and you didn’t have time to actually get it or even store the office pantry with it - which you realize now you should do, and you make a mental note of doing an inventory so you could request for more of the things he likes later on.

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “I… I hope it helps for the presentation. Or the nerves. Or just in general.”

“It has,” he confirms, humming with every sip.

Not long after, everyone is instructed to head back to the conference room so the meeting can resume. You take your seat with the other assistants at the side after you’ve ensured that the presentation is ready while Jungkook heads to the front. You watch him go through his notes a final time, and when he sets them aside and looks up, his eyes find yours.

They’re still tainted with worry, you can tell even from several feet away. So you give him a comforting smile, knowing it’s what he needs. You gently nod and give him a double thumbs up as if to say that he can do it, and he nods back, as if to say that he’ll do his best.

And that’s exactly what he does.

The presentation goes for a quarter of an hour, and while he does give a good rundown of the achievements of the past three months, it’s his pitch of the Arts Center that really makes him shine. The visuals are good to begin with. He did those blueprints himself and the designs give life to his vision, but he explains every aspect of the project with just enough detail to enable the audience to imagine how it looks and what it makes them feel. He took into consideration earlier worries about profits and brand reputation, as well as anticipated questions and points of attack, so he goes ahead and addresses them to the point that he can’t be scrutinized for anything that’s lacking. He keeps in mind the qualities of each Board member, so he makes eye contact if he needs to and acknowledges side comments and builds on them.

He’s definitely added more - and improved - since that first runthrough you did with him, and he looks very confident and very respectable. You can tell that he values not just profits but art itself - its creation, its appreciation, and the various ways it can be experienced. As someone who yearns for that kind of passion for something, seeing him like this is quite moving.

It doesn’t help that he looks as good as he does standing up there, and it’s a thought you let yourself have before dispelling it quickly.

He gets approving nods from most of the Board members. The rest still look a bit doubtful, but you suppose they wouldn’t directly criticize Jungkook and his plans in front of everyone after a presentation like that. You also take a peak at CEO Jeon who’s unable to hide how proud he is of his son. Hoseok and Ji-woo exchange smiles as well. But Jungkook remains focused, ready to answer any questions or comments from the Board.

Mr. Mun is the first to commend him and doesn’t ask much. Mr. Im surprisingly praises Jungkook after admitting his reservations, and Mr. Saito, as you expected, asks clarificatory questions that just builds on what was earlier presented. Jungkook’s readiness and creativity are highlighted as well, and you can tell that the older man is extremely excited for this project.

The hour is up before you know it, with only minimal questions and a few comments from the attendees. Ji-woo and Hoseok raise points to help with marketing and earning profit, and you take note of all those for discussion and debriefing next week.

Jungkook thanks everyone before returning to his seat, and you see the breath he lets out after, seemingly glad that that’s at least over. You catch his attention again, and you can’t help your smile. He acknowledges you with a nod, and he turns his focus towards Hoseok as the next presenter. The afternoon goes by like this, with Ji-woo going last and CEO Jeon closing out the meeting.

There’s some time before the fellowship dinner, which is spent with side conversations and check-ins. Mr. Saito goes to Jungkook right away and you see the latter’s face light up a little, although you don’t miss the sniffing and the throat clearing that he does. You think that his cold hands earlier weren’t due to his nervousness; perhaps the last month has finally caught up to him because you truly believe that this man does not rest.

You head out to return to your desk, knowing you’ve got several things to do before the dinner that assistants are invited to. You fly through your notes from earlier and some administrative tasks before heading back to the event hall where you find Jungkook talking to Mrs. Seo and Mr. Ong this time, two people who’d most likely be critical of him so you’re glad that he’s at least forging some relations, if their animated way of speaking is any indication.

You see him excuse himself to head to the washroom, and you take this time to order a cup of ginseng tea for him. It arrives just as he returns to his seat, and when it registers why you’d ordered it, he nods and mumbles his thanks.

“If I may, perhaps you shouldn’t stay long, Mr. Jeon,” you suggest. “It’s been a tiring week and you need to rest.”

Jungkook hates being told what to do, but he’s also never had someone tell him to rest because he needs it, much less even know that he’s not feeling alright.

“I need to engage with the Board,” he reasons. “I’m sure that’s what father would like. I can rest during the weekend.”

“Okay, sir,” you sigh, knowing he’s also right. Perhaps he’s accepted that this is a critical part of his new role as Vice President. “Just let me know if there’s anything more that I can help you with.”

“I will.”

You sit at the table where the other assistants are, engaging in hushed conversations as you talk about the Board members and how tired you all are. It’s nice being around them, as you all share the experience of stress and isolation, of knowing too much sometimes, of security and stagnancy. They know what you’re going through, partially at least - unlike you, they have people to go home to and proper hobbies that excite them. They have loved ones close by and things they look forward to during the weekends. So while they do make you feel understood, you also can’t help but be a bit jealous.

Your thoughts are suspended when Bitna offers to take you home. It’s well past 9 and you’re not keen on staying longer to drink with the rest of the big bosses here. You glance at Jungkook who has a wine in hand, clearly trying his best to keep up with the conversations he’s a part of. He looks incredibly tired - much more than usual - and you feel bad that this isn’t something you can help him with.

You take Bitna’s offer and you both head to your respective bosses to bid your goodbyes. Jungkook nods and mentions his meeting with the artist last night that he says he’ll discuss with you on Monday. There’s more you want to say, but you worry he’ll think you’re nagging about his health - which, you remind yourself, is also part of your job - and you don’t want to end the week on a sour note.

Jungkook watches you leave the event hall and he immediately feels your absence. Even when you spent much of your time apart, he could feel you there, partly because of the ginseng tea that you ordered for him twice at your insistence and partly because the knowledge that you’re around is enough. And now you aren’t, and he suddenly can’t stand any more of the socializing he has to do.

But he powers through it for another hour. When he bids his father goodbye, the older man commends him for his presentation earlier and the way he handled himself throughout the fellowship dinner. It’s assuring, but he knows there’s so much more work to be done so he doesn’t revel in it any longer than a few seconds.

The drive home is quiet. His soft groans as he massages his temples are the only sounds in the car. When he arrives at his empty penthouse, he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the counter and sits on the couch - a glass in hand, necktie and buttons undone, feet on the coffee table, and head rolled back as he reminds himself that he survived the day, that he did a good job, and that he changed some of the Board members’ minds about him.

And much as he tries to keep away the image of you, he’s unable to - there you were in the room, on his side, cheering him on. He didn’t miss the satisfied smile on your face once he finished his presentation, nor your look of worry after the ginseng tea was placed on the table.

You’re just good at that - making him feel like someone looks out for him, that someone else minds that he succeeds, that someone cares that he’s not well and that he should rest.

The smile on his face fades once he’s reminded that you’re supposed to do all that, and that he isn’t anyone special, nor should he be. It’s the thought that keeps him behind the lines - you’re unattainable in so many ways, yet he’s also glad that you are. It’s easier to be mindful of his place like that; it’s easier to accept that you’re you and he’s him, and it’s easier to do his job when he knows you’re just doing yours.

At least, that’s what he hopes.

But when he gets a call from reception the next morning about a package that you dropped off, all that wishful thinking seems pointless. And as he stares at the bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of him, all his thoughts from the night before come crashing down.

Why is everything so hard when it comes to you?

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lukesaprince · 5 months ago

Text

Rich Part 23

Summary: Harry and y/n deal with the aftermath of y/n's panic attack and do some retail therapy to prepare for their trip.

Warning: Smut, public bj & masturbation, exhibitionism, daddy!kink. Mention of panic attacks, Ethan and illegal dealings.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: This chapter isn't as long as I hoped it would be and I wasn't able to get a lot of the Pleasing scene complete. I haven't been in a good writing space recently and I really want to make sure it's all planned out properly but I wanted to post something in the mean time for you! Enjoyy

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- Find my General Masterlist here -

Harry’s stomach was in knots. It had been twisted since the moment he let you walk away from him at his office. His head was in a constant state of nausea and the very thought of you being so far from him had his body aching. Your trip was coming up so quickly, two weeks exactly now and things had taken such a sudden switch he was dizzy.

He hadn’t seen you for a couple of days, or spoken to you properly either. For anyone else that would be normal. Seeing your partner every day wasn’t a prerequisite to having a happy relationship, but to Harry it was torture. Other than your text message when you got home Wednesday, you hadn’t spoken to him. He sent his usual good morning text Thursday morning and was only met with silence. He worked through his lunch that day so he couldn’t call you like usual, but if that ever happened he expected you to call him first. You never did.

He tried to call you that night, then again Friday morning but you ignored him both times. He was starting to panic, starting to fear that you were seriously not okay or that he had done something to fuck everything up even if he didn’t realise it. He knew you two could communicate if that was the case, that your relationship was strong enough for you to speak to him if he did something wrong. After everything you two had been through, your foundation was strong. At least Harry believed so.

But knowing it could be the former option and you could be at home in an unstable mental state was far worse than the possibility of him doing something that warranted you ignoring him. Harry didn’t want to push you, but he also couldn’t handle the unknown.

He was meant to spend Saturday with you. You were going to meet him in the city to get as much shopping done for your trip as possible then he would spend the night. It was your last free day before locking down for studying and Harry wanted to make it something stress-free and enjoyable to give you a mental break. You only had a couple of free days after your exams before you both flew out so there wasn’t a lot of time to get the key essentials once your semester was over. Mostly you just wanted new clothes and wanted to pick things out for Harry as well. He was happy to oblige.

But now… he didn’t even know if you two were okay.

So he decided that he needed to see you. You could turn him away and tell him that you needed space or hated him or preferably that you loved him. Whatever you wanted. Harry didn’t care what you said, as long as he found you alive and okay.

Early Saturday morning Harry was driving to your place with a bouquet of fresh lilies, a large oat latte and a croissant from your favourite local bakery. He didn’t have your keycard anymore so he couldn’t let himself in… but Harry was creative. It felt a bit reckless and immature actually, calling your best friend to let him in like it was some plot for forgiveness, especially when he was just checking up on you. But Harry didn’t want to risk you coming downstairs and turning away without seeing him or worse, just plain ignoring him.

“Hey, Harry.” Maeve greeted, smiling at the man as she held open the entrance door for him. It was especially cold outside now, so he was quick to rush inside and let the door close before he hugged her quickly as a hello.

“Hey, Maeve. Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s fine. You’re lucky I like you.” She teased, bumping his shoulder while they walked towards the elevator.

Harry was fortunate enough to spend more time with your friends. As were you to spend more time with Niall and Jed. Since Harry was mostly spending time at your place, he had spent time with Maeve and Jay, even Dakari. Usually, it was just your neighbour and coworker, but there was a double date situation where Harry became aware of the ‘older guy’ Maeve was dating.

Dakari and Harry knew each other through golf and Pleasing. They weren’t exceptionally close, but they got on well enough to treat their beautiful girlfriends to an expensive dinner in the city. Dakari was actually interested in investing in Pleasing, but Harry didn’t particularly like the way he conducted business and would’ve rather owned a third of the club than share a sixth with a man he didn’t want to associate with. Harry was glad for that decision now, since his once silent investment turned into him having a say in business decisions and provided perks that he loved to use.

He hadn’t really used them since he met you but he hoped one day he would. With you.

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it… Have you seen her? I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday and I’m really fucking worried.” Harry admitted, holding the door of the elevator open for Maeve.

“Yeah, I have.” She nodded, “she told me what happened... It’s pretty fucked up. I hope you’ve dealt with that asshole.”

Harry assumed that meant everything.

“I have. I mean, I will.” That still didn’t mean he was going to elaborate. The plan he had set in place to deal with Ethan was one for the inner circle only. The original, small, tightly-knit circle. It was illegal after all. To frame a man for stealing $250,000. “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay… I think she just needed space, that’s all. I wouldn’t take it personally, Harry. She loves you.”

“I know and I don’t. Well, I’m trying not to, anyway.”

The rest of the ride was full of polite small talk. Maeve complimented the flowers and the croissant, but Harry didn’t need her approval to know you loved them. He knew you would because he knew everything about you. Everything except how you were feeling right now.

Harry made sure Maeve went back to her apartment before he knocked on your door. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie, but he was hoping that you two could talk about your panic attack and hopefully end up having a nice day together. He just wanted to hold you and see you smile.

The door swung open barely ten seconds after Harry knocked and there you were. And you looked… okay. Thank God, you looked okay. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and body by the droop of your shoulders and bags under your eyes. You hadn’t changed out of your plaid pyjamas yet but that was normal. Aside from your clear exhaustion, you looked well.

“Hi…” Harry breathed, smiling softly. “I wanted to check up on you. You haven’t answered my calls or texts…”

Your eyes softened and it took a moment before you said or did anything. Without saying anything, you pulled him inside by his nice vest and wrapped your arms around his body, pressing yourself against him. He reciprocated the best he could with his hands full and loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, breathing out a huge sigh of relief.

There was a flood of instant relief through Harry just at your tight hug. Like a heavy weight dropped from his shoulders the moment you buried your face into the light blue checks of his vest. God was he fucking ecstatic. Just having your body in his arms was euphoric and there was no feeling quite like the comfortable intimacy of a hug.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

He could barely understand you with how your face was pressed against him, but he made out the words and was immediately taken aback.

“What? Baby, why are you sorry?” He soothed, now desperate to free his hands so he could take care of you properly.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you, I was just…” you sighed and pressed your cheek to him instead, sliding your hands beneath his vest and shirt to feel his warm skin. It was like a clutch for normalcy, a tie to feeling okay again. The last few days had been so murky and unsettling. All you wanted was to feel safe again. Harry never failed to make you feel safe and yet you pushed him away. It wasn’t fair to him and it went against everything you two tried so hard to build. “The panic attack freaked me out and I needed time to sort my feelings out… I shouldn’t have ignored you, H. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t spologise baby, please…” Harry paused, “just-let me put these down, okay? Then we can talk properly?”

You pulled back and looked up at him, reluctantly releasing him from the hug. It was barely a minute before he was on you again. All he did was set the three items on your little table before he wrapped his arms around you properly and squeezed you tight against his body, rocking you slightly from side to side. You gladly inhaled his masculine scent, finding comfort in the rich, sexiness. It was unfair that he always smelt so good. Even after the gym he still smelt like a sexy, clean wealthy man.

“You don’t need to apologise, y/n. I know it freaked you out.” Harry soothed, pressing his lips against the crown of your head, “I was just really fucking worried. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen at all and once it did I just kept thinking and thinking and I was just so angry and exhausted. It was a lot.”

“I know. Trust me I get it. They can be the most debilitating thing in the entire world…” Harry soothed, pulling back from you. “Do you want to go sit down and talk about it?”

With a nod, Harry guided you to sit down on your bed with him. It was still unmade, but Harry didn’t care. You took it a step further and crawled back towards your pillows to lie down on it instead before patting the spot beside you so Harry would join you. He shoved his shoes off then shuffled in beside you, adjusting himself so you were cuddled into his chest.

It was all done in comfortable silence and once you were settled in, Harry decided to speak first.

“They can be traumatic.” Harry murmured, “I spent nearly five hours in the gym after one of my panic attacks.” At his words, you untucked your face from his chest and looked up at him to watch him speak. He smiled down at you, stroking his fingers across your cheek like his words weren’t deeply personal and from a dark period of his life. “I worked my body so hard and wrecked myself because I was trying to deal with my emotions. Or trying not to deal, more like it. I definitely paid for it afterwards but at the time it was the only thing I knew would get my mind off it.”

“I came home Wednesday and cried,” You whispered, watching his eyes sadden. It killed him that he wasn’t there to help you. “Then I went and bought Red Bulls and chips and pulled an all-nighter to finish off an assignment like it was nothing. I was so… I don’t even know how to describe it. I was angry, yeah, but I was also so far out of my head that I just wanted to distract myself.”

“We all do unhealthy things to cope sometimes, y/n. There’s no one way to deal with things. Pulling an all nighter might not be the best way but you were doing the best you could to cope.”

“It didn’t help.” You frowned, tracing the checks on his vest with your nail.

“I can’t imagine it did.” He chuckled softly, sighing when you didn’t look up at him. “Don’t beat yourself up for it, baby... Maeve told me you spoke to her about it. Did that help?”

So that’s how he got in. You couldn’t really be upset by it. Maeve wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to see him. You were just… a bit nervous to make the first move.

“It did. It was good to rant about it with someone who didn’t really know anyone involved.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Harry hoped you would. After hearing nothing for days he just wanted an insight into your head.

“You don’t have to.” He continued softly, prompting you to look up at him, “I’m happy to just be here with you if that’s what you need.” He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I would’ve been here when it happened too. I hope you know that. You don’t have to go through these things alone if you don’t want to.”

“I know but I was just so overstimulated I think and… I didn’t want to say anything I regretted,” an unreadable look flashed through Harry’s eyes, like he wasn’t exactly sure how to take what you were saying. You sighed, looking back down at the same quad of checks you had been tracing with your finger during this entire conversation, “I don’t think I ever really processed what happened with Ethan and… your part in it, I guess. There’s been so much going on that I just kept ignoring it and ignoring his existence completely. Seeing him really triggered me and the more I thought about it…” you sighed again, “the more I was angry at you too, not just Ethan.”

“You were?”

“I know you’ve only done what you thought the right thing to do was. But I just don’t get how you can work with him every day. He hurt me so fucking badly Harry…” you could feel your throat starting to get scratchy and your eyes prickling with tears. The stinging forced you to turn from him and close your eyes momentarily, but it did nothing to conceal how you were feeling. The sight practically broke Harry’s heart. “I don’t get how you can even be in the same building as him. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I feel sick every day I have to see him, y/n. I’ve done everything I can to make sure we never cross paths but sometimes it’s inevitable. He was never meant to be on my floor on Wednesday and I never would’ve let him come anywhere near you if I knew.”

“But you still work with him, Harry!” You sat up abruptly, looking down at him. “It doesn’t make sense. He’s getting no consequences for what he put us through. I get you couldn’t go to the police because there was no evidence, I get it. But I need to do something. I need you to do something.”

“I am.” He didn’t want to get frustrated at you, not when you were hurting but he was hurting too. This wasn’t fucking easy for him and if the law meant nothing he would’ve gone after Ethan himself and made sure he never bothered you or anyone else again. But he couldn’t exactly do that, could he? He sat up as well, nudging backwards until his back was against your headboard. “Y/n I’ve been dealing with him at work the last couple of months because I had to for my plan to work. I couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary because I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself, but I have a plan. It’s just one of those things you have to wait for.”

“What is it? This plan?” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him expectantly.

“I can’t tell you.” Harry almost seemed reluctant to say the words, but it wasn’t because he was apprehensive about his decision to keep it a secret from you, it was because he wasn’t sure how you’d react. He didn’t want you to be mad at him, but at the same time he wasn’t going to compromise your safety and your future.

Because that’s what it came down to. If everything went to shit and you knew even one single detail about it, you were done.

He wasn’t going to let that happen but he also wasn’t going to sit here and lie and pretend that nothing was going on behind the scenes. That’s something he would’ve done at the beginning of your relationship, but he knew that this was just as much your fight as his and lying wasn’t the right thing to do. He could be honest and keep you safe at the same time.

“What do you mean? Why?”

You were immediately jumping to many conclusions, all Harry wanted to settle. He just wasn’t sure how.

“Because it’s not exactly legal, y/n and while it’s pretty fucking foolproof I can’t risk anything. If the whole thing comes crashing down I don’t want you knowing a single bit of it.”

“But that’s-”

“You will find out. I promise.” He interrupted, “just not until it’s over. I’m not budging on this.”

As much as you wanted Ethan to pay, you didn’t want it like this. You always knew he covered his tracks well but you hoped that by now there’d be some loose thread. Someone with hard evidence to be able to get him punished and that clearly wasn’t the case. But that didn’t mean you wanted Harry risking everything, either. It was exactly how you felt when you first met Niall and Jed and learnt about how they were blackmailing Ethan into handing over the photos. It was reckless and a huge fucking crime. You prayed that it wasn’t the same plan because nothing on this fucking planet was worth Harry going to jail and you losing him. You couldn’t even bare the thought.

“I don’t want you doing anything illegal Harry. It’s stupid!” Your voice broke in your distress, shooting Harry right in the heart like a goddamn bullet. “I’d rather him get away with everything than have you risk yourself. What if you go to jail or what if it doesn’t work? I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.” His eyes softened and he reached forward to cup your cheek, “You won’t.” his thumb traced over your cheek and he couldn’t help but kiss you gently before pressing his forehead against yours. “I understand you’re scared, y/n but I have to do this not only for you but for me too… I have no choice but to go down this route because he left nothing for me to work with. Fucking nothing. If there was another way, I would do it. But this is it.”

“And you can’t tell me?” you whispered, wishing you could pry the whole truth from his mouth.

“No.” He shook his head, leaning back just a tad so he could see your whole face at once. “But I’ve done all my due diligence, baby, I promise and I’m as far removed from it as I possibly can be. So please, just, let this one go. For now.”

“I’ll try…” you settled on, unable to promise anything more. “How long am I letting this go though? A couple of weeks? A month?”

Harry sighed and leaned back against your headboard, “I don’t know. Could be while we’re on holiday, could be in a couple months. When I know, you know.”

“And in the meantime you’re just going to keep working with him? That doesn’t seem fair” You didn’t particularly like that idea. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t want him stepping foot into that office again while that asshole was walking around free and triggering panic attacks left right and centre.

“Well…” His lip quirked up in a smile, “I was hoping we’d enjoy our holiday together and then who knows… maybe I won’t go back to work once we’re home. I haven’t decided yet but I’ve wanted to do something different for a while now. Just not sure what.”

“I didn't know you were thinking of changing jobs.”

He shrugged, tracing random patterns on your back through your pyjama shirt. “I haven’t been planning anything per say, but I’m a bit bored. Seeing that asshole around doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t seem worth it anymore, not when I can do anything else and be happier for it.”

“A career change at your ripe age? That’s ballsy.” You mused, squealing and jumping slightly when he pinched your ass.

“Well I haven’t decided anything yet, just considering my options. At my ripe age I’ve done quite well for myself so I wouldn’t mind a bit of time off. Maybe be a stay at home boyfriend while you study your pretty little ass off in your final semester.” He reached up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand around his finger.

“A stay at home boyfriend?” You scoffed, laughing loudly. “Stop.”

“What?” He laughed, amusement laced in his widened eyes, “we’ve got a son and two households to run, someone has to be around to cook and take care of the place.”

A son. There was something so heartwarming about Archie being referred to as your son, especially when Harry was being so casual about it. Like it was normal. Put the son reference and conjoining your two houses as one and well… that was about as committed as you could be without moving in together. Not that you were anywhere near that stage yet.

“One of those households has a maid, a gardener and a dog walker, I’m sure it’s just fine.” You rolled your eyes, “But if you want to take care of this place and feed me I won’t complain.”

“I’d be more than happy to feed you and fulfill any other needs you have.” He announced proudly, squeezing your hip before reaching in to peck you quickly. “Which reminds me-” he got out of bed, going to your table where your coffee and sweet treat were still waiting for you. “I got you these.” You shuffled up into a cross legged position, happily grabbing the two items when Harry sat back down on your bed.

“Thank you.” You sipped your drink, loving the sweet taste of it. “And thank you for driving all the way down here. It means a lot.” You tore open the paper bag, ripping off a small piece of the croissant and offering it to Harry.

“No no. It’s yours.” He declined, happy when you didn’t argue and at the piece. “And you don’t need to thank me. I love you, y/n and I wanted to see you. I always do” He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too.” You pressed your hand on his knee and reached in to kiss him quickly, loving the way his hand returned to your back to trace random shapes over it. “I love this by the way. I never thought I’d find a vest sexy but you look really good.” You traced over the v-neck of his checkered vest with your clean hand, looking up at him. You really missed him.

“Thanks darling. It’s vintage.” He smirked, wrapping his arm around your hip to drag you back to sit properly beside him. You felt a little dirty compared to him in his nice outfit, especially since you had been wearing the same clothes for days and desperately needed to wash your hair. Harry didn’t seem to care though and you really appreciated that. Washing your hair was a mission by itself. Add a panic attack and assignment stress and you couldn’t think of anything worse, even if the thought of a long hot shower did sound quite nice.

“I like it.” You took a big bite of your croissant this time, moaning at the taste of the chocolate filling. You slumped against Harry, happily chewing it while he rubbed your hip and kissed your head.

“Good?” He mused, sliding his hand just underneath your pyjama top to feel your soft skin.

“So good.” You nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m glad.” He laughed. A comfortable silence fell over you two, with small comments and conversation here and there. It was nice to just spend time with Harry, even if you weren’t doing much of anything. “Would you still be interested in going shopping?”

“Today?” You sat up properly and looked at him, both your coffee and croisssnt long gone and in your stomach.

“If you’re up for it. We did plan for today but there’s no pressure. I’m more than happy to change into comfortable clothes and watch Netflix all day. Truly.”

“No no. I could go shopping. We need to get ready for our trip, right?” You grinned, getting excited at the thought of a day walking around the shops and buying so many cute outfits for your trip. Secretly though, you liked the idea of Harry going with you more than the shopping itself.

“We do. Yes.” He smiled, happy that you had a bit more energy. Harry hated seeing you down. Any emotion except pleasure and happiness had him determined to fix whatever the issue was. “Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yep.” You climbed over him to get out of bed, stopping when you were straddling him. His hands found your hips immediately, unable to keep them off you. “I need to wash my hair though, so can you wait an hour? I’ll try and be quick.”

An hour. By that calculation you were doing your ‘everything shower’ and a full face of makeup. Harry now knew what that meant, but he was happy to sit around and keep himself occupied if that meant you were taking care of yourself. The concept wasn’t as relaxing as he thought it would be. It was more of a frustrating marathon of events where each one presented its own challenge. He made the mistake of wanting to join you for one of them, thinking it would be fun and you ended up kicking him out because you didn’t have enough space to shave the back of your leg.

If there was one shower he let you have alone, it was that one.

Harry chuckled and nodded, squeezing your hips then helping you climb the rest of the way off the bed. “Take your time, y/n. We’ve got all day.”

You managed to get everything done in just over an hour and then you and Harry were on your way to the city. You grabbed another coffee as soon as you made it into the shopping centre, then the shop-to-shop walking began. There were a few items you had on your list that you were aiming to buy, but for the most part you just wanted to try a bunch of stuff on and see what you liked. Harry of course was happy to offer his suggestions and his wallet which only seemed to get him more excited to pick things out for you.

“I was thinking…”

“Mh?” You hummed, buckling up the buckle on a pair of baby pink suede platform heels. They definitely weren’t Europe-appropriate, but you got a little sidetracked and with Harry encouraging you to try on everything you so much as looked at, it was easy to get distracted by anything that looked pretty.

“After your assignment is submitted Friday, why don’t we pack up your place and you can stay with me until we leave for our trip?”

“Harry I still have to study for two exams. As much as I love that idea, you don’t want me taking over your house.” You responded, standing up from the couch to test the comfort of the shoes. You stepped around them a little, walking to the closest mirror to have a look at them properly. “And I’m sure my parents would hate that I’m spending a week at yours instead of going home.”

“But you weren’t meant to go home at all, remember? Not until your exams were finished.” Harry coaxed, standing up from the couch to step behind you in the mirror and wrap his arms around your waist. You shivered slightly against him, still focusing on looking at the heels on your feet. “This time you’re close to home, close to Archie…” He hummed, sliding his nose up the side of your neck. This time you really shivered and your focus was taken completely away from your shoes. Not that you were thinking of buying them anyway. They were way too expensive but the allure of trying on Prada shoes alongside a man who already put aside a pair of sunglasses and a belt for himself was way too strong. “Close to me…” this time his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail right underneath your ear.

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, making Harry smirk at you in the mirror. Oh he had you now. Your body was becoming more pliant in his arms and you were leaning against him more and more with every passing second.

“You could study during the day and have Archie keep you company then at night I could feed you and help you… relax,” his hand flattened against your belly, causing the bold rings on his fingers to twinkle in the lighting. You had a sudden craving for those fingers to be in your mouth or further down south where he actually could make you relax.

“I’ll be studying all the time, Harry.” You weren’t sure why you were protesting it so much, not when the thought of a quick orgasm as your 15-minute study break sounded so delicious.

“And I’ll be right there beside you, working or reading or providing you with a quick… study break. Whatever you need, hm.” He drawled, kissing your cheek. All you could do was nod because you were so fucking dazed and way too horny in the middle of a store you couldn’t afford. “Do you like the shoes?”

“What?”

You didn’t even hear what he said.

“The shoes.” He tapped your belly, looking down at your feet. “Are they comfortable?”

“Oh…” You tried to snap out of it and stepped a little in place, feeling the shoes mould perfectly to your feet. God, why did you have to love something so expensive? “Yeah, they’re comfy but I don’t need them.”

“Nonsense. They’re baby pink, your favourite colour.” Harry grinned, pulling back to step in front of you instead. The fact that he called it ‘baby pink’ and not ‘light pink’ had you screaming on the inside. He grabbed onto one of your hands, holding it out between you. “Do a spin.”

You did as told and did a 360 spin for him, liking how your heights were a bit more even with the tall heel. Without saying anything more to you, he turned to the sales associate who was waiting patiently beside the couch Harry was just sitting on. “Do you have a matching bag to these? In a baby pink?”

“Yes, sir. We have a cross body and a shoulder bag.”

“Perfect. Bring them both, please.” Harry turned back to you, then suddenly whipped his head around to the woman before she could step away, “Oh, and please bring some sunglasses too. Anything you think might suit her. Thanks, love.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” You hissed, “I’m not buying anything.”

“No, I am. I like you in pink. Besides, isn’t a shoulder bag and sunglasses a necessity for a holiday?” He mused, squeezing your hips. “Let me spoil you, darling. For doing so well on your exams.”

“I haven’t even done them yet.” You blushed, protesting slightly while threading your fingers behind his neck. “You don’t have to buy me such expensive things, H. You’ve already gotten me so much today.”

“And? You deserve it.” Harry assured you, reaching forward to kiss you gently. The lipstick you applied before you left was almost gone by now. Harry could barely keep his hands off you and you didn’t really want him to. These quick, casual pecks and signs of affection meant so much more to you than anything he could buy.

“Thank you.” You whispered, threading your fingers softly into the hair at the nape of his neck to kiss him again. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby.” He kissed you again and then sealed it with another quick peck before using his grip on your hips to turn you back towards the mirror. “Now tell me you don’t love the shoes. I know you can’t.”

It was store after store of shopping. You tried to keep things concise to the list you brought of things you wanted to get, but just like the Prada shoes… and bag… and sunglasses, you were both easily distracted. You had more fun dressing Harry up more than anything. Seeing him try on complete outfits you picked out for him just hit the spot for you. You loved it.

And it had nothing to do with him looking absolutely delicious in every fucking thing. You picked out a bit of a joke outfit in one of the ‘younger’ stores as Harry liked to call it, styling him in something more skater boy than his usual refined, delicious European style and he still looked hot as anything.

Harry hated it of course, but he did like the graphic t-shirt and managed to style it in his own way with the pair of dress pants he had on. God, he was just so fucking hot. By the third men's store you brought him into, you were sweating. You couldn’t explain why it was such a turn-on to watch him open and close a curtain and show off different outfits or why a linen button-up much like everything else he has riled you up until you were clenching your thighs, but it just did.

You finally truly understood why he liked buying you things so much.

“Alright, last one then I need food. It’s practically dinner time and there’s a sushi train near here. I could demolish like twenty of those little plates.” Harry chuckled to himself and opened the door of the fitting room he was in. Upon revealing himself, your mouth properly dropped.

It was another button-up style top but this time it was entirely made out of white crochet squares. The design was fine and perfect beyond perfect and had so many little holes throughout the design, that you could see slivers of skin everywhere. Then there was the obvious sliver of skin. The top three undone buttons that Harry had purposefully left open to expose his cross necklace and littered chest hairs. The tails of his swallows were peaking past the edges and with particular movements, the moth became more visible.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Not sure about this one, love. ‘Dunno why.” Harry ran his hands down the fabric, looking at his shirt until he realised you hadn’t said anything. “Y/n?”

Seeing the look at your face, Harry could see exactly what your opinion was on his shirt.

“I love it.” You finally said, walking towards him so you could feel the soft lace across his chest. He smirked and placed his hands on your waist. “It’s soft.”

Just the feeling of the soft lace against his warm body was driving you crazy. His body heat was radiating against your hands and you suddenly craved it against your body. All this talk about ‘study breaks’ and being in the same house as him for an entire week had your head in a spin. You couldn’t stop thinking about having constant sex and how tempting it would be to have so much privacy for so long.

And this was before you two were going to have an entire month together. God, the thought of that… your vagina would never be the same, you knew that for sure.

“Mh. Comfy too.” He commented, shivering when you dug your nails through the lace holes to scratch at his chest. “So y’like it?” Harry’s head cocked a little as the attraction in your eyes quickly started to reflect in his own.

“Uhuh.”

You peeked around quickly to make sure you were alone and when the coast was clear you made the quick decision to walk him backwards back into the fitting room. Harry was happy to follow along with you, barely being able to ask what you were doing before you locked the door behind you and grabbed onto his face to kiss him.

Harry squeezed your waist and chuckled into your mouth, sighing softly against your lips while he kissed back. His arms started to wrap tightly around you and he was trying so hard to not moan at how eager you were pressing yourself against him and nibbling on his lip and tugging on his hair and fucking hell he was going dizzy.

You weren’t one to start things like this and Harry was enjoying every fucking moment.

“What are you doing, darling? Hm?” Harry mused, eyes fluttering shut as you tugged his head back by his hair to gain easier access to his neck. His fingers dug deeper into the small of your back in an attempt to ground himself. He had to be quiet.

“I need your cock in my mouth,” You whispered against his skin while sliding your hand down his chest towards his dress pants. Harry tensed immediately beneath you, nearly groaning loudly when your hand landed on his cock. “Please, Daddy.”

You started to palm over his half-hard cock which was very quickly hardening properly beneath your hand. Harry’s head tipped back against the wall and his jaw went slack. He could barely fucking believe what was happening right now.

What you were doing was reckless. Inappropriate and very much illegal. Giving head on a yacht in the open ocean didn’t exactly compare to giving head in a small enclosed fitting room where there were many more people around and any small noise would give you away.

To be honest though, you didn’t really give a fuck. You could tell Harry liked that.

You pulled back from his skin and made eye contact with him while squeezing him through his pants hard enough to make his eyes flutter. Reaching forward, you kissed him softly and spoke through soft kisses until he verbally agreed to have you on your knees before him. “Let me say thank you… please… I need it so bad, Daddy.”

Harry breathed heavily against your mouth and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck to tighten them in an almost warning way. “You’ve got to be quick, y/n. Unless you want to be caught.”

Something told you Harry wouldn’t have any issues being caught with his cock in your mouth.

With a quick nod from Harry, you began the descent onto your knees. But before they even bent, he stopped you. “Wait.” He murmured, grabbing his expensive vest that was hanging on the back of the door and then folding it in half so it was thicker. “For your knees.”

“I thought you liked it when they bruised.” You grinned, taking the vest nonetheless and putting it on the carpet in front of his feet. You slowly got down on your knees, looking back at the lock for a second just to double-check it was actually locked. It was thrilling to be in such a compromising position, but that didn’t mean you actually wanted someone to walk in on you two.

“Only when I can take care of you after.” Harry sighed, the sight of you before him enough to make him breathless. He tried to relax against the wall separating your fitting room from the one next door. It thankfully went floor to ceiling, so you hoped that would muffle most of the noise. As much as you could try to keep quiet, Harry was quite terrible at it and it was hard to give a proper satisfying blowjob without making some sort of noise.

Hopefully, the store’s music would cover it.

“You always take care of me. Now it’s my turn.” You looked up at him with a smile, sliding your hands over his thighs. He looked down at you, sliding his hand through your hair to push it back from your face so he could watch your facial expressions and every move you made.

“You look so hot in this” You complimented, pushing his button-up top up his stomach to expose his belly button and below. “You better buy it.” you leaned forward and licked a stripe from the button of his pants to his belly button, making sure to do it once more while you undid his pants.

“I will…” Harry assured, sighing out like a pretty angel just at the feeling of your mouth on his lower belly. “You like it so I have to buy it.”

“Mhmm. Y’gonna look so good, Daddy…”

Harry’s pants easily fell to his ankles once the button came undone. They were straight-legged and with his tight briefs pressing his cock down, they slid right down. Of course, the briefs didn’t last very long either and they soon joined Harry’s pants at his ankles.

You had no time to tease or kiss every inch of exposed skin like you wanted to. This had to be quick which was a shame when he looked so fucking hot standing there naked aside from the pretty lace button-up you wanted to keep on him. It was like sexy lingerie and it messed with your head much more than you would’ve liked.

“I only look good for you, darling. You’re the only one I want to… shit…”

Harry couldn’t even finish his words, not when you spat on your hand, wrapped it around him and brought him to your mouth without any fucking warning. You jerked him slowly with your hand, focusing on the base while you slid his head against your tongue. His hips bucked against your mouth at the feeling, causing you to choke a little on his cock and force yourself to pull back from him.

“You’ve got to relax.” You licked your tongue slowly against his slit, savouring the taste of his precum. You made a show of it too and closed your eyes to hum gently once it collected on your tongue. “As much as I love choking on your cock, it’s too loud.”

You were almost scolding him, reprimanding him for not being good and staying pressed against the wall. It was reminiscent of the first time you figured out you loved him, not that Harry knew it like that. Harry remembered the first shower blowjob he got from you as a bold move, not the craving for control that you desperately wanted at the time.

Now… you’d give up any and all control to Harry, knowing that you were really the one in charge. That’s how you two worked. You both had your limits and while Harry hadn’t really pushed them to the limits very often, he had the power to do so because you gave it to him.

And how he was putty in your hands.

“Don’t think I won’t get you back for this…” he shuddered, fisting your hair tighter when you brought him back into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him perfectly. All you did was smile around his cock while pressing the vein underneath his length back and forth on your tongue.

You were looking forward to the payback.

The longer you had him in your mouth, the less you started to care about how loud you were being. Harry was doing well to keep still, albeit practically trembling against you, but his hands were tugging on your hair roughly and he couldn’t stop the string of curses in place of loud moans he wanted make for you.

There was just nothing like the sound of male pleasure. Deep, guttural groans and whimpers, hushed lines of praise and degradation and pleads of your name. A loud curse when you clenched around him or a whimpered one when you swallowed around him like you were doing now.

Your hand was still wrapped around his base, fingers reached further back to press against his frenulum and apply pressure to his balls at the same time. You kept moving your mouth quickly and sloppily over his tip, swirling your tongue around his head where he was most sensitive.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n. God… your mouth.”

It was borderline blasphemy the way he used God’s name. The way he cursed and moaned it out because you were giving him one of the most insane blowjobs of his entire life. There was pleasure in all types of blowjob, but there was nothing quite toe-curling like having his tip sucked and flicked at so fucking harshly. Harry almost felt like he needed to squeal like a little girl.

And you were eating it up. Literally.

Sucking Harry off just turned you on to level 100. There was something about the shape of his cock… the weight of it on your tongue… his scent and soft skin, the way he was so incredibly hard for you and yet so sensitive and dainty at the same time. All of it. Add the dirty talk and the hair pulling and his nails scratching at your head like he wanted to force your head closer so you’d choke on him and you were practically a puddle in your jeans.

You wanted to touch yourself. To just dip your fingers in your underwear and touch the pain away. Just a little.

“Can I touch myself, Daddy? I’ll be quick, I promise.” You whispered, pulling off him to speak and catch your breath while you continued jerking him off.

Even on your knees with all the power in this situation, you still asked permission to touch yourself. Harry had to force his mind elsewhere to not prematurely cum all over your nice outfit.

“Do it. Make yourself cum f’me, baby. You’ve been sucking me so fucking good.” He praised, rubbing his thumb over your messy mouth. Your once perfect lipliner was all smudged now, leaving behind your pretty swollen lips for Harry to trace. He had a sudden craving to kiss you silly, but with your manicured fingers wrapped around him, his cock’s craving was stronger. Hungrier.

You nodded, bringing his cock to your mouth and bopping against it while you undid your jeans so you could slide your hand into your underwear. It was like instant relief the moment your fingers met your clit. You were soaked and slippery and so fucking horny you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to finish yourself off.

Harry was close too. You could tell by his heavier breathing and the slight twitching in his cock. You kept your lips wrapped around his tip and focused your attention there while you used one hand on his balls and the other to touch yourself.

The closer both of you got to finishing, the louder your noises became. You tried so hard to hide it, to keep your noises reduced to a sigh especially when you could hear people talking all around you, but it was pretty damn hard. Your one saving grace was the music echoing through the speakers, but you were getting so lost in the pleasure you didn’t know or care whether it was loud enough to cover what you two were doing.

“Shit, y/n. ‘M close. ‘M getting so close…”

Keeping your lips wrapped around him, you took his warning as a sign to jerk him faster and time your own circles on your clit with every movement you made on his cock. And it wasn’t long after his warning when you felt his whole body tremble against you. His thighs tensed and his abs clenched, his fingers stilled in your hair.

Harry had to bite down on his own fist to try and muffle the noise he let out when he finally came in your mouth, letting ribbons and ribbons of cum fill your throat until you had to swallow to make more room. He wanted to watch you take all of it and make yourself finish, but he could barely stand up straight let alone keep his eyes open to see the way you shook and squeezed your eyes shut when your own orgasm rushed over you.

When he nudged your head away due to sensitivity, you both seemed to collapse in your own positions to try and calm down from your highs. Your head tilted against his thigh and you just sat there for a moment collecting yourself before deciding to redress Harry. You two had been in the dressing room for way too long now and the post-orgasm clarity was starting to make you freak out about what you had just done.

You only got his button done up before Harry was picking you up off the floor and drawing you in for a heated kiss.

“God I fucking love you.” He murmured, kissing you over and over again while you giggled into his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, poking his chest. “We should do that again sometime.” You breathed through a laugh while zipping up his pants for him. You were a little in disbelief at what just happened.

“We should,” Harry smirked, reaching between you to zip up your jeans and do the button for you. “Though next time it’ll be you trying to keep quiet and we both know you have a harder time keeping your noises to yourself.”

“That’s so not true!” you scoffed, turning to the mirror so you could fix your hair. “I can keep completely silent thank you very much,” you couldn’t, not when you were with Harry anyway.

“You’re such a liar.” He laughed, shaking his head while taking the lace shirt off so he could put his own clothes back on. You watched him through the mirror, still overly horny and unsatisfied. Seeing his bare chest just made you want his cock in your mouth again. Or better and far more satisfying, inside you. “I can very easily prove you wrong though, I hope you know that.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and then without any warning felt Harry press his chest into your back while he wrapped his hand around your neck. Your eyes widened and you felt your head go dizzy when he applied pressure just in the right spots.

“I’ve been very generous to you today, baby, and while having my cock in y’mouth is a very nice thank you, I don’t think it warrants attitude, does it?” he murmured, making eye contact with you in the mirror while running his nose up the length of your neck.

Fuck me.

God, you wished he would.

You swallowed thickly, a little overwhelmed at how dominant he became in a flash. You had almost forgotten what it was like to have him so in control and so powerful. Since you got together he had been so soft and loving. The parts of him that would correct you and reprimand you when you broke eye contact or showed a hint of attitude had significantly softened. They hadn’t disappeared altogether, your sex and your life together was still playful and Harry was most definitely in charge, but with your lives being so busy and having so many things to work through, it was clear to both of you that things had changed.

You just hadn’t really spoken about it.

But you didn’t want to forget. You didn’t want Harry to think that he couldn’t push boundaries anymore or be rough with you just because you two were in a relationship. In the beginning you knew he didn’t want to overstep because things were so emotionally raw still, but now that things were good between you two…

You put it down to not having time, which was a big part of the problem. Still, you missed it.

“N-no…” You breathed, sliding your hand to cover the one he had around your neck, “No, it doesn’t.”

“Exactly. So?” He prompted with a raised brow, caressing his fingers up and down the sides of your neck with little pressure.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.”

The title slipped out easily, naturally. It was never going to be part of your lives 24/7 because that wasn’t your dynamic, but you two were clearly still playing and you were still in the high of sucking him off. It was just so easy to let go of all thoughts and issues when he took control like this.

“Good girl, angel.” He smiled, manoeuvring your face to the side so he could kiss you and look at you directly. You savoured the kiss, craving that closeness even when he pulled away to run his thumb over your lips. “Are you still hungry?”

You nodded. “Very.”

“Good.” His eyes softened and he couldn’t resist kissing you again. “Wait outside then, okay? I’ll get dressed then we’ll drop our bags to the car and go get dinner.”

“Okay.” You nodded again, wanting nothing more than to just cling to him and never let you go. Still, you did what he asked and cautiously slipped out of the room, thankful that the one person standing out there paid no attention to you or even Harry when he exited his fitting room a minute later.

It was decided during your dinner together that you’d go back with Harry to his house. After spending such a nice day together, you didn’t really want to go home. You knew you should’ve, especially since you still had one assignment to go before you could focus on studying for your exams, but you knew that you wouldn’t get anything done after the week you’ve had whether you were with Harry or without him.

And you’d much rather be with him.

When you got to his home, you wanted to try everything on again just to make sure you liked what you got in case you changed your mind. Fitting room mirrors can give you the best or worst confidence in the world and you always need to see things in your own house (or Harry’s in this case) to make a final decision. While Harry didn’t quite understand your logic, he was happy to sit in his nice armchair and watch you try everything on for him.

Harry found it quite adorable the way you analysed yourself. The look of concentration and slight furrow in your brow as you observed yourself from every angle. Harry liked everything on you of course, but he quickly learnt you still needed to hear it from him at least three times before you believed it.

“Okay, last one.” You declared, emerging from his walk-in closet where you just looked at the dress for a solid three minutes before wanting Harry’s opinion.

“It’s gorgeous. I love the colour on you.” Harry beamed, fingers laced together with his elbows resting on his parted knees. He scanned your body, thinking that this one was possibly his favourite dress of the day. “Makes your bum look great.”

“Stop.” You scoffed, laughing while looking back in the mirror. You were able to see it from the doorway of his walk-in robe, which was handy. “Seriously, though. You don’t think it washes me out?”

“No. I think it suits you perfectly. It’s different from other dresses you have too.”

You didn’t quite understand how Harry had the patience to sit through a haul like this. Your dad never did, even when you forced him to at least pretend to be interested and yet Harry acted like every outfit was the newest, greatest thing he had ever seen. If it were even possible, you loved him more for it.

“That’s what I was thinking. I wanted a few things that are a bit more unique, y’know? Even though I’ll probably end up wearing the same things all the time anyway.” You laughed to yourself, eyes focused on the dress. You tilted your body side to side, watching how the fabric flowed around you. “So you definitely like it?”

Barely a minute after his second assurance and you needed another. Harry would happily tell you how beautiful you are a million times if that made you happy.

“Yes.” Harry nodded, “1000%”

“1000% huh?” You grinned at him. He nodded with an equally happy smile. “Okay then. I’m satisfied with my purchases now and I feel justified.” You announced it like you were proud of the outcome, even though you didn’t buy a single item of anything that you tried on for Harry. He fucking loved it though. If you ordered him to buy you a new car or a $20,000 bag he’d do so in a heartbeat then need to fuck you because of how much it turned him on.

“Good.” Harry laughed, sitting back in his chair. “C’mere, baby.” He motioned you over to him, letting you step between his parted before he wrapped his arms around your hips. You smiled down at him, slinging your arms around his neck.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled, hugging you closer to him. “Are you feeling better after this morning?”

Your smile faltered and suddenly the happiness you got from your little shopping spree disappeared into thin air. It was nothing but a quick distraction, easily ruined by a reality check. You couldn’t blame Harry though. All he did was check in on you.

You nodded and started twirling the hair at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “Yeah… it was nice to have the distraction. There’s just been so much shit going on at the moment and I feel like I haven’t breathed properly for weeks. I just want to have a clear head for once, y’know? Just not think about anything.” you sighed, looking down for a moment.

“I can help with that,” Harry said softly, tilting your head up with his index finger so you were forced to look at him. “You know that right, y/n? I can give you anything you want…” his voice dropped an octave and you were instantly aware that he wasn’t offering a listening ear. Your breath hitched and your body completely tensed up in his arms, “...anything you need.”

“I know…” you whispered, unable to look anywhere except right into his darkening gaze.

“So let me…” he urged, “Do you want me to clear your head for you?...” he scanned your face, sliding the tip of his index finger from your chin down to trace along your neck. It was a trail of fire. Just the path of his fingertip was making you need to claw out of your own skin and he had barely touched you. It felt like he hadn’t properly touched you for weeks. “To take away all your stress and your thoughts… let you be completely relaxed?”

You were practically trembling in his touch. One hand was squeezing your waist and the other was trailing patterns over your neck and your collarbones, down to the modest neckline of your dress. You were dying.

“I can take full control if you want me to, y/n. You just have to say the word.” He flattened his palm against your neck, making you flutter your eyes closed as he enclosed his hand around it. He applied no pressure, just a loose hold to show you what he could do to you. For you. “I can be Harry or Daddy… whatever you need. Anything you need.”

The way his mouth moved at the two clear syllables of ‘Daddy’ had you sweating. He was giving you every choice, every option so that he knew exactly what you needed and wanted. So that he could take the reigns and let you sink into your submissive bliss.

You needed that more than anything else in the entire world.

“I…” your words faltered, even as you forced yourself to look at him. “I need you, Daddy. Please.”

Harry nodded, scanning your face once more as the side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly in the softest smile he could muster. “I love you and I’m so proud of you for everything you’re achieving, y/n. It takes a lot of strength and endurance to be as strong as you have been.” Now it was your heart that was trembling. “Now let me do it for you. You’re gonna be a good girl for me, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes-yes, thank you.” You nodded eagerly, wanting to sink into his arms so he could take the weight off your feet for you. If he could walk for you, you would’ve let him.

“Good. I want to take you back to Pleasing.”

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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jazzyoranges · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩

She’s my Collar

Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader

Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)

Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think

A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶

MINORS DNI!

Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl

Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out

While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her

Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead

Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least

“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”

“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”

“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”

“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”

“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”

“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed

“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”

“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”

“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”

“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”

“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”

“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”

“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes

“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”

“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”

“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin

Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room

The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it

“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”

“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled

“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”

Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door

“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to

“I’ve come to check up on your illness”

“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”

“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”

“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”

“I promise.”

You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”

Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke

“Let me help you.”

“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you

“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection

“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”

“Help me like..?”

“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”

Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back

“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”

Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat

“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact

“Wednesday, I-”

“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat

“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.

“Puppy.”

“Wednesday?”

“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”

Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs

“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach

Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked

The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in

“Please, Wednesday…” You whine

“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”

“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want

“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick

Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.

And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better

She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life

“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her

“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours

“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”

“Huh?”

“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”

“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”

“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”

“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”

“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”

“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”

“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining

The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.

It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you

The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.

Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.

“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.

“Duly noted.”

—

You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now

The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends

The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day

The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious

So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)

Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her

You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.

Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.

The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.

You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.

—

“(L/n).”

“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.

“We cannot continue our arrangement.”

“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.

“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”

“Wednesday, I-“

“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face

Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away

“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.

—

Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed

Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body

It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.

Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.

“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl

“I do not.”

“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”

“She has that new girl, does she not?”

“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”

“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”

“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought

“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Annoyingly so.”

“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”

The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-

“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult

The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option

She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)

It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly

The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers

“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.

“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence

“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course

When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat

What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy

“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”

“I came to help.”

“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”

“I’m not lying, Y/n.”

“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass

When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood

Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face

“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum

“Knot me, cucciola.”

When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly

“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”

“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly

“Puppy.”

“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame

“Cucciola wants to breed?”

“F-Fuck you.”

“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice

“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”

“W-What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”

“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven

“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation

“Knot me.”

“Huh?”

“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance

Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her

When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday

Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.

“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her

“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out

Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.

You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.

Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before

Wednesday whimpers at your touch.

You do it again.

Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.

“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat

“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.

“Cara mia.”

“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind

“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you

“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”

“Deathly.”

“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.

…you decide to ignore that thought.

Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.

A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday

“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax

Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.

“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.

You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.

“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”

“More than enough, (Y/n).”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #wednsday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday (2022)#jenna marie ortega #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday x y/n

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dlwritings · 24 days ago

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November 6, 2024 | Rafe Cameron

masterlist found here

pairing - Rafe x reader word count - 1,827 warnings - political talk, anti-T*ump rhetoric A/N - Who would've thought the shit show state of our world would inspire me to write again. I know for a lot of us everything feels really broken right now, and I know it may seem silly to some, but for me, writing feels like healing, even if it's just something like this. So here you all are. Rafe probably votes red, but here's a world where he doesn't. Also, if you're a T*umper, go ahead and unfollow me. I can't have any of that in my life. I'm so serious.

summary - The results of the 2024 election hit you pretty hard, and you end up taking your rage out on Rafe. Turns out, Rafe's hopes for the future looked a lot like yours.

You and Rafe didn’t talk about politics. You knew better than to broach the topic with him, because you weren’t naive. One glance at him and anyone could guess how he voted.

But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

The two of you had been dating for about six months, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing. It was gossip fuel for most people on the island for a few weeks -you being a pogue and Rafe being … who he was- but like most drama in Kildaire, it didn’t stay at the forefront of people’s minds for long before another thing came and stole back everyone’s attention.

And the thing on everyone’s mind right now was the election. The election that had you donned in blue on your way to the polls, a huge smile on your face as you filled in the bubble that would make history. Hope filled you in a way you were sure it never had before.

Until the next day.

Waking up and opening social media to see the results had already come in was enough to break your spirit completely. How could this have happened? How could the country have failed so many people?

Then again, how had you been so naive to believe in the possibility of any other outcome?

You shut yourself off from the world for most of the day. You went to work and gave polite smiles and nods to your coworkers as needed, but you did your best to spend the majority of your time locked in your office, alone. You didn’t dare to open social media, knowing every MAGA post from the bigots of the Figure 8 would bring tears to your eyes.

It wasn’t until you were at home on your couch that you decided to brave Instagram. Before scrolling through your feed, you added a black screen with a simple blue heart to your story and wrote the words, When we fight, we win.

You thought it was harmless. A simple story that showed your feelings without being overly dramatic. The last thing you wanted to do was act irrational by doing something crazy like storming the capitol. Because that would just be insane.

Unfortunately, the people who followed you saw it as anything but harmless. They saw it as an opening to send you the most heinous, revolting messages you had ever read. Your notifications blew up within minutes, and some of them were so borderline terrifying that you locked your phone and threw it across the room, once again leaving you in a puddle of tears.

You heard your front door open, and you cursed to yourself. In all the chaos of the news, it escaped your mind that it was Wednesday, and Rafe always brought pizza to your apartment on Wednesdays. You had once mentioned in passing that you liked a pick-me-up halfway through a week, and Rafe took it upon himself to provide you with that. Normally, it was one of your favorite parts of the week. Today, Rafe was one of the last people you wanted to see.

“Babe!” he called out upon his entrance. “I got your favorite!”

You met him in the kitchen, and by one look at your face, Rafe’s own expression dropped. “What’s going on?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. “I think you should go.”

“What?” he said, dropping the pizza on the counter and walking over to you. With each step he took toward you, you took one step back. He stopped quickly, a frown painted on his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

The words made something snap inside you, and your fists clenched at your sides. “What’s wrong?” you repeated. “What’s wrong? How about fucking everything, Rafe! Everything’s wrong, and you not seeing that is part of the problem! You are part of the problem!”

Rafe was, in a word, flabbergasted. He ran through the past 24 hours, trying to think of something he had done wrong, but he was coming up short. “Okay, I’m-” He let out an exasperated laugh. “I’m trying to understand, but you’ve got to give me something more here. What did I do?”

“You-” You let out a huff of a breath and ended up speaking through gritted teeth. “You and your stupid fucking MAGA Kook friends voted for a convicted felon to run our country! You voted for a man who wants to throw away my rights. You voted for a man who has raped a multitude of women and brags about it!”

Rafe’s eyes were wide as he held his hands up and shook his head. “Hang on-”

“No, Rafe!” you shouted, pushing him back as he tried to get closer to you again. “For the entire time we’ve dated, I’ve danced around the talk of politics, because I knew better. I knew a rich ass white guy from the south would vote for another rich ass white guy to run our country, but I guess I naively thought it wouldn’t matter. That the poor guys would get a win for fucking once this time. For once I thought the good guys would win and that a white man would have to face the consequences of his actions. But you-” You laughed bitterly. “You of all people know that privileged ass white men never ever have to face the consequences of their actions.”

You were hitting him where it hurt, and you knew it, but you were hurt. You and every woman like you had been holding in years of pain and hurt, and for you and many others, today was the day it was all going to come out.

“Baby, if you just let me-”

“Let you?” you laughed incredulously. “You and your fellow MAGA guys have clearly shown me I don’t have to let you do anything anymore.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, unlocked it, and shoved it in his face to show him all of the nasty messages you were receiving. Things like, “Your body, my choice,” “whomp whomp go make me a sandwich,” and “Guess what? Men win again” had flooded your DMs, and while you didn’t know it, Rafe was clocking every username and making a very specific list in his head.

“So maybe you can understand why I’m angry, Rafe,” you said, taking the phone back out of his hand and putting it in your pocket again. “I thought I could cancel out your vote, but I guess I forgot that meant you could cancel mine.”

“Ba-”

“I want you to leave, Rafe.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Fucking, go, Rafe!” you shouted. “Let me be angry and let me be alone!”

With a clenched jaw, Rafe gave a short nod. “Okay,” he whispered. “Fine.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but he refrained, instead turning around and heading out the door, leaving you in a mess of tears.

The next day, you called off from work. Maybe it was dramatic, but you didn’t care. You knew if one person even looked at you in a way you didn’t like, you’d lose any composure you had, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job for yelling at your boss.

You had the full intention to stay in bed all day, but the relentless knock at your door around 10AM proved that to be impossible. You felt some sense of relief, knowing it at least wouldn’t be another political petitioner.

Instead, perhaps just as unfortunately, it was Rafe.

You let out a heavy sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?”

He held out his hand which had a coffee cup in it from your favorite shop. “I went to your work, but your boss said you were sick,” he said. “I bought you coffee.” You took it, but didn’t say anything -just looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if to say, Anything else? “Can we please talk?” he said.

“I don’t know what there is to say, Rafe,” you sighed. Still, you stepped aside and let him in, not wanting your neighbors to bear witness to whatever argument was about to ensue. “I know we’re different -I’ve always known that- but I don’t think I can handle being this kind of different anymore.” You plopped yourself onto the sofa, expecting Rafe to sit next to you. Instead, he crouched in front of you so he was just slightly looking up at you.

“Baby, I didn’t vote for him.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock, and you felt tears instantly pool in your eyes.

“What?” you whispered.

“Yeah, of course I didn’t vote for him,” he said. He reached up to turn around the hat he was wearing backwards to reveal a Harris-Walz cap, and you let out a noise that was a mix of a gasp and a little laugh. “I know I’ve fucked up before baby,” he said. “And in other elections, yeah, I usually vote red. But this-” He shook his head and squeezed your knees. “This is different. And I know that. And I’d be an absolute moron to think that tax cuts for me are more important than basic rights for you.”

You moved to kneel on the floor next to him and held his face in your hands before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you kept your forehead against his. “I was so mean to you yesterday,” you whispered. “I didn’t-”

“It wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve,” he said. “I know that I am living in a world that was pretty much tailor made for me. And I know I should be in fucking prison for all the shit I’ve done, and so should he. And I know that none of what I’m saying right now changes the bullshit I’ve done, but I figured I should at least use all this fucking privilege I have and try to help people who don’t have it. Because you-” He paused to press a kiss to your lips. “-have taught me so much about being a good person. And I’m not going to vote against that.”

“I wasn’t a good person yesterday,” you mumbled.

“You were reacting to an unfortunately historic event,” he said. “You had every right to lose it. And you can keep losing it, and I will be by your side for every minute of it, okay?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Okay.”

He smiled back and nodded. “Okay.”

You and Rafe decided to spend the rest of the day together, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in the quiet. When you suggested putting on a movie, Rafe agreed. He let you choose, no complaints, and watched as you searched for the Barbie movie. You cried at all the usual parts, sometimes a bit harder than normal, but Rafe understood.

It is literally impossible to be a woman.

----- ----- ----- -----

add yourself to my TAGLIST

strike-through means Tumblr won’t let me tag you

If you want to be taken off the list (or be put on for only certain people) just message me and let me know!

ALL:

@bangtan-serendipity

@planetdemon

@the-singing-clown406

@tomshufflepuff

@bluelalal

@grandloser

@jackiehollanderr

@mindset-jupiter

@bisexual-sk8r

@feel-like-gold

@runaway-apple

@miraclesoflove

@marvelismylifffe

@wonderbyers

@coraz0ndcristal

@lizmarvel

@delicately-important-trash

@superhoorny4daddy

@misshale21

@mrsjna

@daisydark

Rafe Cameron:

@starkeybae

@drakestoes

@ethanthequeefqueen

@r1vrsefx

@angelsplnet

@alltomay

@immelissaaa

@tahliac11

@bibliophilewednesday

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #this is so niche but I really needed it #and idk maybe someone else does too

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shixcherie · 2 months ago

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This Kitten Purrs | Choi San ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 07 : Thigh Riding

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When tension runs high and nothing seems to work, you decide to throw one final bait for your roommate San to take, enlightening him of your desires. This time, he actually takes it, reciprocating with equal passion and intensity. Game night turns into a wild night of intense pleasure—riding thighs with hands and mouths everywhere, making this kitten purr.

Word Count : 1.6k Genre : Non-idol u, Smut, Angst. Pairing : Roommate! San x F.reader

WARNINGS : Pure smut(18+), both are switch!, dirty talk, dom/ sub undertones, dom san, sub fem reader, thigh riding, pet name(kitten), self pleasure, nipple play, biting.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 07 is here ma chéries ☆ and it's our kitty San's turn for some fun. A shorter one compared to my other fics, but I promise, it's not going to disappoint. Hope you enjoy it ma chéries.

Also, I successfully completed one week of Kinktober '24. Brb, gonna cry in a corner. I can’t believe I finally committed to something and am actually seeing it through. Thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown for this rookie kitten.

Wednesdays were always booked and busy for game night. Phones were on silent, snacks and drinks were on the table, the PS was plugged in, and the game was ready to begin. You, Yunho, San, and Mingi all crashed at your place, crowding on the couch while you comfortably perched on San’s lap.

You and San had always been so comfortable being physically touchy with each other, so it was normal for you to sit on his lap. Kissing on the cheeks, back hugs, forehead kisses, and sitting on his lap had become common occurrences around the house.

As your eyes were glued to the screen, your fingers moved swiftly over the controller. You all cheered with every kill, eating and drinking the evening away, not realizing five hours had passed.

Now, the final match began—the most intense 2v2 yet. San and you were on one team, with Yunho and Mingi on the other. The tension peaked as San gripped his controller, ready to give it his all one last time. Only, his team wouldn’t be winning. You wouldn’t let him.

Why? Because San had whined all afternoon, stubbornly against the idea of you going on a blind date with some random guy named Mingyu. “What if he turns out to be a serial killer?” he’d tried to convince you. “Can’t let the resident kitten get killed so early, now can we?” He pouted, smirking as mischief glinted in his eyes. You both knew these complaints were baseless and ridiculous.

Kitten? you scoffed. If anyone’s a pussy here,its him.

The real reason was his desire to have you all to himself, though he was too hesitant to make the first move. And, let's just say, you shared a mutual desire to have him too, especially since these blind dates were turning out to be disappointments. So, you decided to give him a cheeky little push,a bone to the hungry animal, curious if he’d take the bait.

If he did, the blind date was off.

Your plan was all set and ready to be executed as you shifted in San’s lap, seeming innocent, but your intentions were clear to you.

As the game raged on, you subtly rocked back and forth on his thigh, eagerly awaiting a reaction. His arms tightened around your waist, tension building with each movement, but he stayed quiet, trying to focus.

“Yah, are you trying to distract me?” San complained, his tone playful but strained, his lips forming a pout.

You laughed, your eyes still on the screen. “Me? Distract you? San, focus, please. We can’t let them win.” You smiled to yourself, knowing exactly what you were doing, continuing the subtle rocking with your goal in mind.

His grip tightened, and though he said nothing more, you could hear his breath hitch as his focus slipped the longer you kept moving. The game was already lost, but your game was well on its way to victory.

Just give in already, Sannie!

“Fuck!” San cursed loudly, tossing the controller aside as the victory screen flashed for the other team.

“Told you we’d win!” Mingi cheered, fist-bumping Yunho.

Yunho grinned. “Looks like someone got distracted” he teased, shooting a knowing look at you and San.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts.” San muttered, waving them off. “Next time, we’re winning,” he added smugly, confident in his future victory.

“We’ll see,” Yunho smirked, pulling Mingi along. “See you guys next week.”

San watched them leave, his eyes following as the door shut softly behind them.

“I’ll play with you later, Sannie,” you said as you got off his lap, pretending you had somewhere urgent to be. “Can’t keep Mingyu waiting all night, can I?” You turned, walking to your room to get ready for the blind date.

San's hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against him. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice needy. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? And now you want to leave for this date with some random dude?”

“Maybe I did,” you smirked, leaning back, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you traced your fingers slowly along his thigh. “But what are you going to do about it, Sannie?” you teased, your voice soft but daring, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

Piecing together the situation, a low, sultry chuckle escaped San’s lips as they brushed against the exposed skin of your shoulder. He bit down gently, a silent declaration that the challenge had been accepted. “Kitten needs to be punished.” he murmured, his voice dark with intent as his desires took over.

Got him right where you wanted. Now, the real fun started.

“Stand up” he commanded, a devilish smirk adorning his lips as his dominant side surfaced, his eyes darkening with desire. Blinking a few times, you smirked, and obeyed without hesitation, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed over you.

Dom San is hot!

Leaning back, San settled comfortably, his eyes locked on you. “Undress for me, kitten.” he said, his voice dripping with anticipation, waiting for your naked form to grace his view. You obeyed, the thrill of submitting to him already making you wet down south as your hands got rid of your tank top and shorts.

Your naked form, delicate yet extremely sexy, almost made him take you right then and there. But he wanted to devour you bit by bit, both for the sake of punishment and to fulfill the satisfaction of your cancelled date.

“Now,” he continued, his gaze locked on you, “touch yourself for me.” His words were heavy with desire, wanting to witness how you pleasured yourself. The memory of your moans from a few nights ago still lingered in his mind, those nights when you’d leave the door just slightly open, knowing he’d peek in, and your sultry cries of pleasure were loud enough for him to hear and brick up in his pants.

Your hands cupped your breasts, giving them a few squeezes that made San practically salivate, eager for a bite, maybe even a hard suck on those perky buds. Your fingers pinched your nipples, hardening them, ecstasy coursing through your body as you broke apart under his intense gaze. Pinching them harder, you gave a final tug before your juicy breasts bounced back to their original position with a jiggle.

Now, your hands traveled down south, every move diligently followed by San as his dick hardened in his pants. You tugged at the waistband of your lacy underwear, pulling it down quickly. As it fell to your feet, you began rubbing your wet core, soft moans escaping your lips as tremors ran through your body. Your fingers slipped inside your heat, the delicious stretch making you ache with frustration that it wasn’t his touch you were feeling. The frustration drove you to pump your fingers faster, slick gathering on your skin as the pleasure built, edging you closer to a heart-stopping release.

That’s it. San couldn’t wait any longer.

With one swift motion, he pulled you back onto his lap, capturing your lips as an urgent hunger consumed him, thanks to your little sexy performance. His grip on your hips tightened, his lips messily nibbling, occasionally biting your lower lip. “Move, kitten.” he commanded, and you moaned as he tugged at your lower lip, sucking and showing no mood to let go of your sexy mouth.

Without a word, you shifted in his lap again, your thighs pressing against his as you rocked forward, slowly testing the friction. The sharp intake of breath you heard from San was enough to encourage you further. You repeated the motion, deliberately this time, feeling his hardness beneath your hand.

“Fuck…” San breathed, his voice strained as he enjoyed the sensations erupting on thighs. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to grind against his thigh. The feeling of his thigh between your legs, combined with the strong grip of his hands, sent waves of pleasure through you.

Your pace quickened, your breathing becoming heavy as you chased the friction. San’s eyes were glued to your face, watching your blushy cheeks, your lip between your teeth, and your eyes rolled back as you lost yourself in the rhythm. His hands never left your hips, pushing and pulling you against him with just enough pressure to drive you closer to the edge.

“San…” you whimpered, feeling the tight knot in your stomach about to snap. He groaned, his hands gripping you even tighter, practically guiding you into each movement now.

“Cum for me, kitten.” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Can you do that for me, pretty? Will you let me take care of you?” His rough voice transformed into one filled with sweetness and care.

The duality pushed you over the edge snapping the knot as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as your body trembled with release. San’s name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as your movements slowed, riding out the high.

But was San done, though? Fuck No!

You could feel how hard he was, his arousal pressing hard against you hands. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice dripping with lust. “I’m not letting you off that easy. Ready for round two, kitten?”

With that, he carried you to his bedroom, and you still recovered from your high as excitement grew inside you in anticipation of the wild night that was about to come.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

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isagrimorie · 4 months ago

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The BAU Team Target Board

Criminal Minds Evolution 17x09

I love this board because it mixes Character/Actor photos. The more candid photos are definitely (especially for JJ and Penelope) AJ Cooke and Kirsten Vangsness.

I wish my copy of the episode had better quality so I could read what's on the files.

The yellow stickers for the characters:

Tara Lewis

Pilates at the Gym every Monday.

Jennifer Jareau

Takes the same route to work every day.

Babysitter every Wednesday.

Has two cars: Audi and Honda.

So... JJ is definitely going to change her route and maybe change it up every other day. Also, change schedules for the babysitter.

And possibly sell and buy new cars.

Emily Prentiss

Cigarette Smoker

Faked Death

Big House with 2 Car Garage.

Travels outside of town.

First: Erica Messer is really happy she got Emily to smoke this season when she fought so hard to get that to happen on the OG show.

Faked Death -- see this is where things start to go, where and how are they getting this information on Emily? Especially with the photos of Emily undercover as Lauren.

Also, now Luke and Tara may have some inkling about Emily's past.

Big house with 2 car garage - Okay, money bags Prentiss!

'Travels outside of town' - WHERE DO YOU GO EMILY?? Do you still do the whole Sin to Win Weekend in Atlantic City? WHAT IS THAT ABOUT? How much is the buy-in? Probably more than $50,000 buy-in Rossi had to pay for during that one episode.

David Rossi

Multiple food deliveries a week, usually Chinese takeout.

Goes for a walk at 7-- around (?)

Penelope Garcia

Leaves House Every Morning at 6AM.

Luke Alvez

Bedroom on top floor - last window

Leaves kitchen side door open during the day.

Walks dog early on the morning before sunrise.

Guard dogs?

Parades around towel after shower.

LMAO. The last one.

Edited: @overpoweredcacti suggested the kitchen side door bit is on Luke’s side and that makes sense because I was confused because I could’ve sworn she was in an apartment too!

#tv: criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds 17x09 #criminal minds spoilers #tara lewis #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #penelope garcia #luke alvez

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roosterforme · 11 months ago

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Adult Education Part 16 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Every sleepover with Jessica leaves Jake wanting more of her. More time making love, more time reading, more time cooking for her. But when a brilliant scheme is dropped on her lap, Jessica is about to have a little less time to spend with her boyfriend.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, mention cheating, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake was absolutely certain he'd never been happier than he was at this moment. Jessica was sitting on the kitchen stool next to him, moaning softly in her dishevelled clothing as she ate the chicken pot pie he made for her. His fingers were loosely tangled with hers, and she kept leaning closer to kiss him after she took a few bites.

He knew she'd been having a bit of a rough week, so it was important to him that she was relaxed now, especially since he'd been part of the reason the past few days had been tiresome. He hadn't meant to jump her like a horny teenager as soon as she got to his place, but it seemed like neither of them could do much to stop themselves. When he told her he could barely go a day without seeing her, he wasn't joking. At this point, Jessica was a necessity.

"Why don't you take a long shower when you're done eating while I clean up?" he whispered as she took her last bite.

She nodded and climbed from her own stool onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him before sliding to the floor. "I'll be back."

Her hair was a mess, and she still looked freshly fucked as Jake watched her walk away to his bedroom. When he heard her turn on his shower, he stood and started to clean up the kitchen. There was a lot of food leftover, but he also bought a lot of groceries in case she wanted something else. Part of him was planning on coaxing her to spend some time cooking with him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.

But they had time. Jake could take his time this weekend, just like he was going to take his time telling Jessica that he loved her. He didn't want to spook her again with this information, but telling her that a day apart was almost too much for him to handle was the beginning of his admission. It was the honest truth. Even now, just knowing she was in his bathroom had him heading in that direction.

He tapped on the door and poked his head into the steam filled room. "Mind if I join you?"

Jessica spun away from the spray of the shower and slid open the glass door, reaching out toward him with her wet fingers. Jake wrenched his shirt over his head and practically tore his sweatpants off to get to her as quickly as he could.

"Why would I mind this?" she asked, raking her fingers through his chest hair as her temple came to rest on his shoulder. When he touched her arm, he could feel goosebumps even though the hot steam was dense; her reaction to him was always welcome, too. "Honestly, this is the best I have felt all week. Brian's taking a leave of absence, and I get to spend time with you."

Jake froze with his hands halfway up her back. "Brian is taking a leave of absence?"

"Mmhmm."

"Is that... a good thing?"

Jessica kind of shrugged and then nodded. "I think so. I got an email from the dean asking me to cover one of his classes on Wednesday afternoons."

He considered her words. "Baby, that's amazing. They trust you to take on more work."

"Yeah," she said, crinkling up her nose, "but I still don't have tenure. And with Brian out, I can't even schedule a tenure review with him now that alumni weekend is over."

"Why didn't you tell me all of this as soon as you got here?"

She looked up at his face like he was one of her students who was failing a class. "Because, Jake, I got distracted by you. Obviously. Now why don't you tell me about your week?"

And once again, she amazed him by actually showing interest in what he had to say. Not only that, she called him smart when he talked about his jet's fuel ignition system. And after they got out of the shower, she asked him to read a journal to her. As Jessica was falling asleep, curled up with him on the couch, Jake took her glasses off so they wouldn't get smashed against her face.

"I love this, Reedy," he whispered, kissing her forehead and making her smile.

----------------------------

"Please tell me you know how to crack an egg," Jake groaned, standing behind Jessica in his kitchen the following day. He had his arms wrapped around her as they made waffle batter together, flour all over the counter and both of them.

She glanced up at him over her shoulder. "Do I look like I went to culinary school to you?"

"Baby," he laughed, reaching for the broken mess of egg shell next to the bowl and swiping it into the sink. "This isn't fine dining. It's a waffle."

"It's fine dining when you make it," she replied, and she was rewarded with Jake's lips on her neck. He hadn't shaved his face, and the scratch along her skin was completely addicting. His fingers dipped inside the neck of his shirt that she was wearing, and he kissed his way to her bare shoulder. "Can we go back to bed?" she whispered, rubbing herself back against him.

All she got was a smack on her butt and Jake's lips back up next to her ear. "No. I'm determined to teach you how to cook something." Jessica whined as he handed her an egg and cracked it with her, dumping it in the bowl of flour before tossing the shell. "See? Easy. Now do one yourself."

She picked up another egg, carefully cracked it, and then half the shell ended up in the bowl. "Oops."

"No, you did great," Jake told her as he fished the shell out of the batter. "I love crunchy waffles."

She groaned and tossed her head back as he laughed. "You're one of those people who is good at everything. You're really annoying, and nobody likes you."

"I know," he agreed, even though she was turning back to smile up at him. "I'm the worst. Now pick up the spoon and mix everything together."

She did as she was told, but frowned at the bowl. "Is it supposed to look so soupy?"

"Add more flour," he whispered as he kissed her ear. A chill went down her spine as his lips remained where they were, and Jake took her hand in his to scoop some more flour. "That's good. Keep mixing."

After another minute, she was shaking her head. "How is this supposed to turn into a waffle?"

"Magic."

And it kind of was magical, the way he made it look so easy. The batter was soon sizzling in the waffle iron, and Jake had her pinned against the counter with his hands up underneath her shirt. He was rubbing soft circles along her waist with his thumbs, and Jessica was enjoying the sight of him in nothing but his tented underwear.

"Five minutes until the waffle is done," Jake crooned as one hand slipped down the front of her lacy, pink underwear. "Think that's enough time?"

"For what?" she gasped when his thumb found her clit.

"Get my girl off," he muttered, kneeling in front of her and kissing her through the lace before pulling her underwear down to her mid thighs.

The thing was, Jessica was certain he could do it in five minutes or less, because he'd done it before. Just not with his mouth. But as soon as his lips met her clit and she could feel his stubble all over her pussy, she was leaning back against the counter and whining for him.

"Spread 'em wider, Baby," he whispered, kissing her thigh as she eased her legs a little further apart. "That's it. So pretty," he moaned before she felt his tongue glide from her opening up to her clit where he latched on and started sucking. The elastic of her underwear was digging into her thighs a little bit as he eased two thick fingers inside her.

The waffle smelled delicious, and Jake's mouth felt like heaven on her clit. But it was his fingers, thrusting so rapidly and so deep that had her practically shrieking. The muscles in his shoulder and bicep were taut as he finger fucked her sweet spot, but his face was calm and adoring as he looked up at her. As if he wasn't about to get her off in four minutes. As if he wasn't doing the Lord's work in his own kitchen with the waffle iron and with her pussy.

Jessica was pressed up on her tiptoes, shaking on the spot, subconsciously trying to get away from him while also pressing herself against his face. "Oh my god," she cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop, her hips rolling against his face of their own accord. She had lost control of herself as she came, gushing against his lips as her hips jerked.

She watched him lick his lips as he stroked her clit with his thumb through her orgasm, bringing her to the brink of overstimulation before the timer on the iron went off. Jake hopped to his feet with ease, pressing a wet kiss to her lips before opening up the appliance and said, "Oh good. The waffle is done just like you are."

With a halfhearted glare, she pulled her underwear back up and watched him slice some strawberries for the topping. Two minutes later, she was sitting on the couch while he fed her bites of waffle, berries, and powdered sugar. "This is so good," she gasped. The waffle was crisp and golden brown on the outside, but it melted on her tongue.

"You made it," he reminded her. "All I really did was cut up some fruit. Later, we can make dinner together, and I'll pack up little containers for you to take for your lunches."

Jessica threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the plate out of his hand. "Thank you."

----------------------------

After spending Sunday playing dress up with Jake, Jessica finally headed home. But not until after she got to see him in his white uniform. And not until after he used his credit card to buy her three hundred dollars of new lingerie. "Next weekend should be even more fun," he crooned as he purchased all of it.

Now it was late, and she was unloading her lunch containers into her refrigerator after texting him that she got home safely. His response came in the form of one sentence that made her belly swoop.

Just remember, I can barely go a day without seeing you.

Had they progressed to mid week sleepovers? She thought maybe they had. And when she drove to work on Monday morning, she was contemplating asking him if he wanted to come over that night. She wasn't even thinking about work or Brian or any of it, because she was in such a pleasant haze from the weekend.

When she plopped down at her desk with her lukewarm coffee, she put her container of homemade lasagna that she had helped cook in her mini fridge. She turned on her computer and mused that there probably wouldn't be a department meeting with no Brian Conley at work, and she smiled. She was still smiling as she finished her coffee and ate a granola bar while she looked through the offerings on a boutique website, searching for the perfect birthday gift for Jake.

"Oh!" she gasped when she found what she was looking for. She wiled away her time before she had to give a lecture by picking out a pretty green frame to go with the art print. She could already picture it hanging on the wall outside his bedroom door. Just when she was entering her shipping information and credit card number, a loud knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she said, her heart starting to race as she purchased the gift, but she calmed down right away when she saw who it was. "Advanced Calculus. How was your weekend?"

But the other woman was looking up and down the hallway suspiciously before she pulled the door closed and rushed toward Jessica's desk. "We don't have time to chat," she said in a loud, harsh whisper as she planted her palms on the desk.

"We don't?" Jessica asked softly, meeting her wide eyed gaze.

"No, we do not. Listen carefully, because we need to act quickly."

"Is something wrong?" Jessica asked, but her friend just shook her head and hit the desk with her palm a few times.

"No! Now listen! Bradley had to drop me off a little early this morning, so I was in the math supply closet minding my own business when I saw Dr. Rosenthal walk by. And I said good morning. And then he said, 'It's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate,' just like he always does. Hmmm.... now I understand why Bradley likes it when I hang out with a very harmless old man at work...."

Jessica was gesturing for her to get to the point.

"Oh, yes, right! So, good old Walter Rosenthal stood there and looked at me like he had some hot gossip to share, which is wild, because I think he's at least seventy five, and he never talks about anyone. But I could tell. So, we stood there in the supply closet doorway, and he just unloaded about Brian."

"What did he say?" Jessica gasped.

"That Brian is taking a leave of absence! Apparently his wife walked in on him and a TA. But since she's not his TA, the university doesn't even care." Jessica was about to tell her that she already knew all of this information, but she kept her mouth shut as she continued. "But the real kick in the ass is that Brian is suddenly taking time off to work on his marriage! His wife is making him!"

"Really?" Jessica asked, leaning closer.

"Yes! And I didn't even get to the good part yet!" She was hitting the desk again as she jumped around. "You can thank me later for solving all your problems."

"I can?" Jessica asked, wishing she'd get on with it.

"Mmhmm. You see, Dr. Rosenthal just so happens to hold not just one, but two PhDs."

"He does?"

"He does! Mathematics and physics. Physics, Jessica! And he's going to be filling in as the interim head for the science department while Brian is off. And Dr. Rosenthal told me that he will be off for the rest of the month!"

"The rest of the month...." Jessica's gaze shifted away from her face when she realized it was only the second day of the month. Then she gasped. "The rest of the month!"

"Yes! And how long does it take to complete a tenure review?"

Jessica's heart was pounding so hard, she thought she was going to be sick, whether from nerves or excitement, she wasn't exactly sure. "Three to four weeks."

"Three to four weeks!" She was back to pounding on Jessica's desk as she whispered as loudly as anyone possibly could. "You need to get Rosenthal to review your tenure. And you need to get him to start it today."

"I can't ask him to do that," Jessica whispered as her heart sank. "It's so much work, and he's just an interim department head. And since he has tenure, they probably aren't even offering to pay him more for taking over."

"You can ask him, and you will! This is your chance. Anyone with half a brain can see how hard you work around here and how much your students appreciate you."

Jessica chewed on her lip and looked down at her lap. This was the kind of opening she'd spent the past year blindly hoping for. "I suppose he's got all the right credentials: he has a PhD in a scientific field, he's tenured, and he has more than ten years of teaching experience."

"Let's go," her friend said, still pounding on the desk. "Right now. Come on."

With a nod, Jessica was on her feet and reaching for her discarded suit coat. There really was no time to waste if she wanted this to get anywhere. But her hands were shaking on her way to the elevator, and she had a hard time pushing the button. "I'm nervous," she muttered, feeling like an idiot as she buttoned her jacket and ran her hands over the fabric.

"There's no reason to be. I promise," her friend replied. "Rosenthal is very reasonable. I'll introduce you, and then you can chat and see what he has to say. The worst he can tell you is no."

Jessica had already subconsciously gotten her hopes up that this whole thing might work out, and when she reached his office over in the math building, she was starting to feel faint. He had to say yes. He absolutely had to. If he did, she would take back every mean thing she ever said about all of the old guys at this college.

"Come in," called out a voice, and Jessica hadn't even realized that her friend already knocked on the door. Dr. Rosenthal looked a little stern at first in his reading glasses, but as soon as he saw who it was, he said, "It's a little early for lunch and curriculum talk, isn't it?"

"Dr. Rosenthal, have you met Dr. Reed? From the Physics department?"

He immediately stood and stuck out his hand, and Jessica felt a little bad shaking it with her clammy one. "Good morning, Dr. Rosenthal. It's nice to meet you."

"Yes, yes. But it's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate."

Jessica smiled, because apparently that was his go-to line. "A calculus joke? I like that. A good use of integration. But I prefer the physics version that claims a donut is fundamentally the same as a coffee mug."

"You know the topologist joke!"

"I'm pretty sure they don't let you have your physics PhD unless you do," she said with a tiny smile.

"Well, what can I do for the two of you?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I need to meet with Dean Walters in thirty minutes, so I don't have very much time."

"I just informed Dr. Reed that you'll be taking over things in the science department for a few weeks while Dr. Conley is... unavailable."

Jessica had to swallow three times until her mouth felt wet enough to form actual words again. "And as a result, I hate to take up any more of your time, but my tenure review with Dr. Conley has been continually delayed. I was actually planning on talking to him about it again this morning, but that's when I heard he isn't even on campus right now." She was shaking slightly again; she never was any good at telling a lie, even a little white one.

"I'm not surprised," Rosenthal replied before pursing his lips in disgust. "Seems like he was busy doing other things, I suppose. Getting his work done was perhaps the last thing on his mind." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You still need to be reviewed again?"

Jessica shook her head. "I need to be reviewed for the first time, actually."

His brow furrowed. "How long have you been at the school?"

"Almost two years."

His eyebrows shot up. "Two years? And Dr. Conley never gave you a tenure review?" She started to shake her head, embarrassed all over again that she had managed to derail her own career by sleeping with him. Luckily Rosenthal saved her from having to speak just then. "Of course. Of course. It should have already been taken care of," he mumbled, shuffling papers around on his desk. "Just let me find my calendar."

The two women watched as he pulled out an enormous, old fashioned schedule keeper and a pen. Jessica's heart was beating so erratically now, she was afraid of what she would say if she opened her mouth. "I'm really rather booked up now, as I'm sure you can understand," he murmured. "But perhaps we can sit down together on Wednesday at lunchtime? I'll need a copy of your schedule to start with, and a copy of your students and their grades."

"I can have that to you this morning," she blurted out.

He smiled as he wrote in his calendar. "Ah, yes. I always did appreciate a professor who keeps up with their grades. The only other thing we will need is another tenured staff member with a PhD who won't mind writing a secondary report and signing off on my findings."

"I'll do it."

Jessica turned to look at her friend as tears welled in her eyes. It was one thing to ask Dr. Rosenthal to give up hours and days of his spare time to sit in on her lectures and critique everything and write a massive report, but this was something else entirely. It would eat up all of her spare time.

"No, I can't ask you to do that, Advanced Calculus," Jessica whispered as her vision blurred behind her glasses.

"Okay, well you didn't ask. I offered," she replied with a completely neutral expression.

Rosenthal looked between the two of them before saying, "That's settled then. Just get your schedule and your grade book to me later today, and expect to see me sitting in on your classes."

"Thank you," Jessica practically gasped, reaching to shake his hand again before she turned toward the other woman who was holding the door open for her. Once they were alone in the quiet hallway, her lips started shaking with unshed tears. "You didn't have to do that."

She just shrugged. "I'll have to be one hundred percent honest in what I write about, but I don't think that will be an issue. And... I don't think you fully appreciate how much I hate Brian Conley. Or how much I like you and want you to succeed." Jessica hiccupped as she tried not to cry while her friend started to walk away. "I have a Calculus lecture calling my name, but I'll talk to you later."

Jessica walked through the long corridor to the elevator and cried the entire way back to her office, but she felt better than she had in a very long time.

---------------------------

Jake was eating lunch while Bradshaw talked his ear off about getting his Bronco detailed. If he wasn't actively putting food into his mouth, he would have fallen asleep. "That's fascinating," he murmured.

"Right? I have one of the only 1973 models in pristine condition in the state. The whole state."

Jake tuned him out when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and relief washed over him when he saw it was a text from Jessica. Finally, something interesting.

Any chance you want to meet me at Chippy's for a drink later? And many have a sleepover at my place?

He almost dropped his phone as he texted back as quickly as he could. A Sam Adams after work with his hot girlfriend? Absolutely. A sleepover during the week? Color him committed.

When he showed up at Chippy's at 6:30 just like she had suggested, the place was packed, but there was no sign of her. So he made his way up to the bar where Chippy just blinked at him as he wiped up a nonexistent spill with his towel.

"Hi," Jake greeted.

"She's not here," he replied.

Jake nodded slowly. "She's meeting me soon. Can I get two pints, please?"

Chippy tossed the towel aside and grabbed two glasses, setting them down a little hard in front of Jake once they were full. Then he slid a dish of peanuts next to them while Jake took out his wallet.

"Perfect," he drawled, handing Chippy a ten with a smile. "You have a nice night." He grabbed an empty hightop with two stools and settled in, nursing his beer and cracking a few peanuts open.

He smiled as he thought about the first time Jessica invited him to her little dive bar paradise. She'd been so excited to talk to him about her lecture and her journals. He'd probably fallen a little bit in love with her that night, if he was being honest. The longer he sat alone and waited, he was reminded of the night she thought he stood her up. If that five mile run had taken him any longer, he doubted he would be here today.

It was like he could sense her before he saw her, and Jake was out of his seat as Jessica wove around the tables gracefully in her high heels to get to him. "Jake!" she gasped, pushing her glasses up her nose with the backs of her fingers before flinging her arms around his neck.

"Hey, Smart Girl," he whispered, kissing her while Chippy kept a close eye on things. "Did you have a good day?"

She squealed before chasing his lips for another kiss. Just when things were on the verge of becoming a little too hot for their current setting, she released him with a big smile. "You'll never believe what happened!"

-------------------------

I love Sugar. She's bestie material. She's everything. Let's make this happen! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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missmonsters2 · 2 years ago

Text

—Lips Over Your Nightmares

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.

Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.

Count: 2.6k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighttime could be hellish.

It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much.

You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be.

But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.

It was a blessing and a curse.

To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for.

But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto.

Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.

But Wednesday Addams saw you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.

"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."

"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."

Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."

"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied.

"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.

Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"

Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."

"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."

There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems.

But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing.

Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.

"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!"

"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.

Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.

"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."

"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.

"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.

"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."

"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.

Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."

Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.

Wednesday knocked in three successions.

There was no answer.

If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.

No, she knew you far too well.

This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.

Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door.

The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more.

There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly.

"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"

"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly.

It was new.

You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm.

"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."

"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.

"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face.

Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes.

Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you.

It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.

"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were.

And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time.

You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling.

Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.

You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want.

"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily.

Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would.

Just as you were her exception, she was yours.

You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.

"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.

She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.

The resounding click of it made you swallow.

"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.

"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."

Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."

"How did you know—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.

"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything—"

Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."

Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more.

Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest.

The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.

"I'm having nightmares about you."

The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic.

But you were not her.

Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.

"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."

Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on.

"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."

"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."

Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought.

But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come.

Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path.

"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions.

"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.

Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort.

You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.

Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross.

Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece.

Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck.

Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.

It was deliriously pleasant.

"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.

It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity.

Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.

Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft.

Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours.

How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?

Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."

You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.

Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream?

Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers.

It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too.

"Your nightmares are inane."

You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip.

"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips.

"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."

The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.

"But—"

"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."

But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat.

Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.

Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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blueparadis · 2 years ago

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❝ HAUNTED ❞ + XAVIER THORPE !

+. CWs —» f!reader, switch!reader, outcast!reader, fluff, she/her pronouns, mutual pining, sexual tension, family drama, flirting, manipulation, mentions of abuse, blood, wounds & therapy, flashbacks in italics, supernatural themes ; explicit smut, s & d dynamics, bottom-dom!xavier, cowgirl position; word count-3.5k

+. PRECIS —» Xavier Thorpe has finally found the girl of his dreams after being haunted by her.

+. NOTES —» this is for my beloved sister @zoraedits ’s brainrot contribution.she won't stop making edits on him. && I'm tagging @orchid3a cuz i luv u

you can browse more of my works here. || also available in AO(III). reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

feel free to send in thirsts and suggestions for this show, Wednesday. This is my first time writing for shows like this; my main fandom spectrum is animanga but I do hope this was a good read for ya’all as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3.

The table calendar was full of red inks all over, dirt sedimented on the sketchbook, and the pencils laid in the case in absolute solitude. Xavier looked at the calendar kept on his desk near his bed in all despondency and a heavy sigh escaped from his lips. It has been days since he stepped into his studio, have not touched his art accessories for almost a month. One thing was for sure, he was plagued by visions in his dreams but this time it was nothing demising.

This time his sketchbooks were not filled by a monster, this time he was not afraid to draw rather he was drawn to it; part of him was stoked while sketching while a part of him was reluctant to draw the whole picture. He had spent countless sleepless nights before, not resorting to sleeping as he was threatened by nightmares. And now his sleep was peaceful as if entering into the realm of dreamland.

Xavier was sure that his mind was captured by a girl who came to visit him in his sleep, never showing her face, only showing herself in bits and pieces. He had spent his childhood receiving showers of praise for his talent for drawing but the origin was never happy. Of course, he enjoyed it and liked to show off his talent for art but secretly he wished his power would vanish into oblivion, for it was never pleasant.

People say that the art of someone reflects one’s persona, one’s raw feelings but Xavier always begged to differ since those memories, those incidents were never his. There always had been a wave of remorse that washed over him after he stepped out of his art studio since the praises he received never belonged to him.

Many were astoundingly taken aback by his knack for drawing and suggested he pursue art, to be a renowned artist but he knew he would lose all the glory once he stopped having those dreams. Moreover, he did not always have such dreams so the possibility of waking up one day and being unable to paint and as a result, staring at a blank canvas scared him to death. Heck! He even considered going to Doctor Kinbott so that his sanity would not be hanging by thread.

For the last couple of weeks, he has been dreaming of odd landscapes. Xavier had never seen them in his life yet he saw how the dusky crimson hue smothered the snowy mountain ranges, how the clouds gathered before the arrival of a rainstorm, how the birds sang songs and all the owes and pangs of nature. One thing he could conclude from those dreams was that whoever it belonged to was a chaser of freedom, that is, was a soarer of the sky.

Xavier had not told anyone about his dreams, nor put them on paper to ease his mind. What would he tell? What would he draw? Last night was particularly odd concerning the regular pattern of his dreams. He dreamt of falling from a high cliff into the water and a broken wing. When he woke up, he was all soaked, even his bed, and his olfactory senses did not miss the subtle scent of stagnant water. He was breathing rashly as if he was the one who drowned as if he was the one to fall.

He closed his eyes and tried to recapitulate his dream, searching for a mark, searching for a recognizable feature, searching for something, anything, anything at all. His desperation knew no bounds when left his dorm and rushed into his studio in the middle of the night since somewhere at the corner of his hopeless heart he knew he found one, a ray of hope.

A lot of crumbled papers surrounded Xavier as he tried accumulating the pieces from his puzzled mind. Around two o’clock he left his studio on his bicycle, the paper where he drew tucked in his pocket. He was sure he had witnessed the scenery before unlike the others. When he finally reached the top of the highland, he witnessed the view from his most recent dream.

The only thing that engulfed his presence was the sound of the waterfall echoing through the woods. He noticed a pond nearby and an adjacent high plateau near it. It was higher from where he was standing. After looking around for a few minutes he figured that there was no way to go there unless one swam through the stream or flew toward it.

On his way back, he felt happy, he felt sane. At least he had proof of the existence of a creature that haunted him, even in his wake. Xavier showered before going to bed just to clear his head before a good night's sleep. He kept a white feather as a bookmark in his sketch pad while a smile smothered his face. He was right. He was haunted by a fairy-like creature.

“Two cappuccinos”, Xavier mumbled as he went back to the counter at Weathervane. It was another event where all the students of Nevermore set foot into the world of normies to carry on the ties between two polar opposite worlds. But no matter how much one tried, the other always tried to retaliate. Their relationship was always on a tightrope, it could snap at any moment. And it certainly did.

“And you did not bother to tell me about this. . .”, Principal Weems trailed off as she left her seat, walked past her desk, and inclined against it, “until everyone in town became aware of it.”

“I thought I was going to be called insane or bullied. Last time I told something about my dreams, I found myself behind the bars.”, he responded, keeping his eye on the ground. Principal Weems exhaled grudgingly. She had no grounds to punish this boy since he was not entirely wrong. Hence, Xavier was dismissed with mere detention.

Xavier was forbidden from the school campus for a week. Everyone felt sorry for him, in his situation but secretly he could not be happier because he had all the time to draw, sketch, paint and think — and it was all about her, y/n.

That day at the café, Xavier was the sole witness of a crime. It happened so quickly, so fast that all she could do was succumb to her fate. A man was standing near the corner of the kitchen with his back facing Xavier. Xavier was not supposed to be here but he had to fetch some ingredients for making pastries and cupcakes.

As the man turned around, Xavier saw a bloodied butcher's knife in his hand. Near his feet lay a girl with a bloodied back the blood quickly spread all over her blouse. She stood motionless, like a statue. The eye contact was merely for two seconds and he immediately smashed the sugar jar on his head, distracting him, to tackle her out of the way.

The other townies turned up for help. Not all people in the world came to be cruel and heartless. All Xavier did was contact Principal Weems so that she could swiftly take care of this matter, which she had to otherwise the reputation of the Nevermore Academy would be in danger. The girl was taken to a nearby hospital.

Y/n L/n was her name. After the untimely death of her parents, she was raised by her uncle, by a normal family. Naturally, when she began to bloom, she was forced to be normal. One would think she tried to run, tried to hide or fight but Alas! none was the case for this matter. She felt indebted to her uncle and his family, for taking care of her, aiding her upbringing, fulfilling the role of parents, and hence helping her to be normal. But Xavier's presence on that day turned her life upside down. She was now a student at Nevermore Academy, funded by Principal Weems’ study forum.

After you recovered within a week, the first thing that dawned on you was to meet him, Xavier, the ‘ hero ’ of your life. You knocked on the door of his studio and waited for a while. There was no answer for a few minutes and when you finally made up your mind to leave, Xavier showed up. He was in his casuals with a teeth-flashing grin on his face.

“How’re you, y/n? The last time I saw you, you were in a hospital bed and now you’re here. in front of me.”, Xavier danced on his toes as he walked into his studio. You followed him and the moment you stepped into his studio you were taken all in awe. The room was filled with artboards, canvases, and sketch supplies, and everything reflected you. Indeed, y/n did not come here to be thankful for what he did since she was not. She was not happy with how her life seemed so devoid of any family. Her uncle was the last of her family and now he is gone. All because of him, Xavier.

“You look better than the last time I saw you.”, Xavier added as he felt the silence between the two of you deafening. You swallowed hard as he tried to ease the tense ambiance thinking how rude of him to remind you of the very wound he was responsible for. There was a desk with a closed sketch pad that caught your attention.

“Your drawings are very beautiful.”, you pitched in opening it and your heart dropped at the sight of your feather that was kept safely in between those rusty pages. A short gasp escaped your lips as the whirlwind of your life hit you.

Xavier was standing behind you, close to your shivering body. “They are all about you.”, a low whisper before he extended his hand to remove the veil from the canvas. The cloth dropped at your feet revealing every bit of dreary in you that you always wanted to hide. You hated how he could see through your pangs and pathos, you hated how he could and would have eradicated all of it, even if it meant being burnt by it. You swiftly tackled out of his towering frame, feeling naked even though you were more dressed than him.

“Stay away from me. You shouldn’t come near me.”, Surprise took Xavier in all proportions. His eyebrows became congested as you continued. “I’m grateful that you saved me but do not do that again, ever.” With that, you walked out of his studio but a firm grip on your wrist kept you from running away anymore.

“Listen, I’m being haunted by you, your pain, your emotions, and everything you feel for the past few months, and all you could say to me was to stay away from you… not even a proper thank you.”, His breath hit your lips as he drew in a sharp breath before his amber eyes landed on you, your shaky lips and pale eyes.

Embarrassment rushed into your cheeks and you pushed him lightly uttering, “Stay away” with a little glare to ward him off but when you vanished out of his sight he was not dejected, not at all. Sure, he was conflicted but the way you told him to stay away whereas your body spoke otherwise made him relish the chase that has haunted him for months now.

They say one can only save people only if one wants to be saved. You neither needed help nor saving but you could see why Xavier begged to differ, wanted to be the odd one out, and craved the crown from saving you from your only family. You always had been a rebel since your childhood, going against the flow of the stream. Somewhere in the corner of your heart, you knew you were different, you would be different.

It was the end of June when you first felt your body ache, back arch, muscles cramping excruciatingly as if someone was poking needles in your skin. Your arms clung to your body as your back bled for the first time. The wailing of such lethal agony submerged amidst the sound of rain as two enormous wings grew with lustrous hues of carmine and amber. Your breathing became regular again, your body stopped hurting as the wings flapped open involuntarily. Every mark, scar, and wound on your body since you were a child began to heal, all by themselves.

Everyone rejoiced when you went through the family ritual and stood in front of your clan as the last phoenix of your bloodline. It was a miracle that a phoenix had been born in the bloodline but just like with blessings it came with a massive price. You were a healer and a destroyer at the same time. Somewhere something has to die to keep you alive, again and again. Every time you were wounded or hurt, your mother had to lose some of her life until she became lifeless, forever. But the family oracle told your father that it is a part of the process, part of a phoenix's journey that every one of their loved ones had to sacrifice in one way or another.

Your father just had a miraculous idea to save you and himself from the bottomless pit of despondency and mutual hatred lurking in his heart because of you. He volunteered to sacrifice himself even if that was against his will. The oracle seemed to be unsure about the idea, saying that the cycle might shorten but not cease. But your father was right, the cycle did cease and you became aware of it when your uncle tried to chop off your wings, uprooting the evil once and for all, and no one in your family was harmed. Still, unfortunately, you were under the radar of an outcast, Xavier Thorpe. ‘What would happen if someone not from your bloodline were to sacrifice? What would happen to your mate if they were not an outcast? What would. . . thoughts would not cease to bombard your mind until a knock disrupted your trail of thoughts.

You lifted your eyes for a glance only to find Xavier inclining against the bookshelf with a saccharine smile on his face. Your stomach turned at the sight of him. ‘How can a person be so forgiving?’ but it seems that he is rather forgetful than forgiving. He picked up a random book from the shelf and sat in front of you.

“You’re hurt. . .”, you murmured to which he responded, “more than you think . . .” while turning the pages of the book and occasionally stealing glances from you. You rolled your eyes and leaned towards the table eyeing his hands that had a lot of scratches. It was probably from a silly fight with other boys, maybe the normies; for him, it was just a scratch yet for you it was an opportunity to apologize for the other day.

“Give me your hand.” As you extended yours, Xavier's reflexively recoiled under the desk. “I’ve no intention of harming you.”, you uttered touching the palm of his other hand that was still on the desk. “Besides, I’m just clearing my debts.”

“Um-hm.”

You inhaled sharply before you flapped those lustrous enormous wings to heal with him, his wounds. Your wings glowed for almost a minute and the hand that was hurt was healed which he was hiding under the desk. It is impressive how Xavier hurt the very hand that can create masterpieces. What a clutz! He interlaces his fingers with yours as he murmured, “A touch . . . is all you need.”

You begrudgingly pulled your hand away standing up and yelling whisperingly, “stop it. stop this. . . and don’t come near me.” With that, you grabbed your book and went towards the exit of the library. Xavier sat like a child who would mourn for the broken toy rather than demand anew.

“Wait.”, Xavier followed you. He kept yelling in the middle of the corridor, “Y/n. wait.”

“Your wings.”, you finally turned your head but not without letting out a sigh of annoyance. “You’re hurt. . .bleeding” and that is when fear crawled underneath the skin.

“I never bleed.”, you retorted.

“And, I never lie.”

If it were someone else, you would have shooed them away. But this was Xavier, who saved you from an inevitable, to whom you owed nothing but the truth. Even though you tried to heal yourself you could not, perhaps because you healed someone and that too for the first time.

Xavier might be persistent but he was not dull. It didn't take him long to connect the dots and hence you had to do the very thing you wanted to avert from the first place. His room was not tidy but not neat and clean either. With Rowan gone he has the room all to himself. You wanted to go to the infirmary, but there wasn't anyone available. Besides, with all the mess you are in you didn't want to risk it.

“I promise I'll behave.”, he said, swinging his hands up in the air in a form of surrender. That made you smile a little as you turned around so that he could tend to the wound. He unzipped your dress and carefully tucked it along your waistline without harming the feathers. Even though you had your camisole on, you still felt naked. His fingers brushed against your skin. It was ice cold. You had to hold your breath as he dressed the wound.

Xavier noticed how your shoulder blades had been marked. He grazed his fingers over the part from where your wings grew that made you instantly shriek and move away from him.

“Are you done?”, you asked, surprise and embarrassment coursing through your skin. Your upper body was barely clad, nothing but an unhooked bra.

“No.”, and within a blink, his lips were already on yours. You could taste the longing and desperation with each suck. Your hands curled around his nape as his hands got rid of the minimal clothing from your upper body. “First time?”, he asked as he moved away leaving you breathless yet craving for more.

“Why? You care?”, you blurted out stepping out of your dress. Xavier eyed you from up and down. You did not flinch but rather smiled as you noticed his astonished face. You had nothing on but just the underwear.

“I do.”, one of his eyebrows jumped as he knelt near you. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”, he murmured grabbing your calf muscles and kissing your femininity over the cloth. He took a glance before tucking the hem of the panty in between his fingers and undid it. Your hand reflexively went over his head as he kissed your entrance, lapping over your pussy lips that made you suck in a sharp breath. He sucked on your skin, followed by a feeble bite into your inner thighs.

“AH!”, you winced pausing his ministrations. “Don’t you taste divine?”, he whispered kissing your lips, wetting them with the blend of his saliva and your slick. He was too dressed. You cocked an eyebrow at him and he took the hint. You co-operated as he became almost naked, and was back up even though you wanted him to continue.

“You won’t hurt me. worry for yourself.”, you said as you felt his hands palming your cheeks a little too long than they should. His hands traveled back to your entrance and you moaned under his slight touch.

“What? Never played with yourself?”, he added that surely turning the cogs in your head. You pushed him onto the bed, sitting on him struggling to take his cock in and he was not even helping. All he did was watch you let out whimpers of frustration as you lazily glided on his cock. He rested himself on his elbows saying, “Look at me.” And as you did, his fingers dig into your plush ass cheeks slowly adjusting you at a proper angle and stretching you. You kissed him so break the eye contact that made you feel naked, even though you were. Both of you jolted as you could feel his cock inside you.

His hands clamped around your waist as you bobbed on him, with greater force and broader strokes but slow. With each sloppy hit you felt his cock twitch inside you; your hands desperately roamed all over your body, heat bubbling as you could feel your body tensing, picking up the pace he was setting you in, and the orgasm lurking underneath. You can tell; a few more strokes and you would cum so easily.

He can feel it too. Xavier winced as he felt you clenching around his cock. His legs folded to support your back while your hands flew to his shoulder blades, his knuckles turning white, his grip growing stronger around your waist and you came right away, back arching and your wings flapping open involuntarily, eyes rolling white relishing the high as your thighs squeezed in.

With your breathing rash and heavy, you felt all mushy in the head and so was he. Xavier could have sworn that he has not seen anything more beautiful than this, than you sitting on him with his cock buried inside you; your skin glistening in sweat with your gorgeous wings at the display.

As soon as Xavier’s breath relaxed a bit he pulled you into his embrace for a kiss. He could not help it, you were too beautiful to look at. Besides, he was not done, not yet.

—

by @blueparadis

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loveshotzz · 1 year ago

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All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap seven/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Bad Idea

summary: After a week of avoiding, you find Steve at your front steps.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. Steve and Reader have THE talk, we learn Steve & Emma’s story. There will be discussions of feelings about watching a loved one struggle with terminal illness and death in this chapter. There’s not a ton of details about her struggles but it is touched on. Angsty beginning and a very, very fluffy end 🧡

author’s note: it’s all up hill from here guys, just a little growing pains. i can’t believe there’s only three chapters left after this 🥺 thank you for reading and all of the sweet reblogs and messages through out this whole series. you have made this so special for me and it’s been such a comfort to write as I navigate my own life changes right now.

🌇 <- chapter six -> chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:

End of June -

It had been a week since Steve came back from his camping trip. A week of good morning texts left unanswered, of making sure not to look out your window when you knew he was home - even when you could hear him play with Bandit. He was doing that outside more than usual, a tactic to try and get you to come out and talk to him or hell, even just look at him.

He doesn’t know that a few times it almost worked.

Always & Forever

The words engraved into silver also stay carved deep and fresh in your mind, not letting you forget. You couldn’t, even if you tried. Especially not her beautiful eyes. Does she hate you? Part of you feels like you would hate you. The guilt threatens to punch the air out of your lungs.

The days go on like this with you doing everything in your power to avoid him while he did everything he could to run into you. The last ditch effort was after you caught him getting out of his car, your eyes meeting for a split second before you cut through the alley walking in through the back gate instead. Your resolve to stay away grows weaker when Steve’s good morning texts finally stop after that.

So when Brad, the new server, gets the courage to ask you out, you say yes. It was a bad idea, anyone could’ve told you that, you didn’t really want him. He was just a distraction from facing the consequences of your own actions.

He takes you to RPM Steakhouse in the heart of downtown and surprisingly he actually makes you laugh. He’s full of food industry horror stories he’s collected over the years. He’s not boring and he’s attentive when you talk, asking questions like he’s really interested. The butterflies that have built a home in your rib cage don’t flutter and fly for him though. The nerves that make your heart beat faster, the ones that feel like they vibrate from your fingertips, like your skin is on fire, are stagnant.

He’s not Steve.

You skip out on dessert when it’s offered to you, but you let him hug you before you get in your separate Uber’s home. It worked for a few hours at least. Looking out the window when your car hits the expressway, the skyline shines gleaming like the stars in the clear night sky.

It’s not very long until your phone fights for your attention, the screen illuminating the backseat. It pulls you back to reality, your breath catching when it’s not Brad’s name that flashes across your screen.

Steve

Can we please just talk?

You aren’t expecting to see him at your front steps when the Uber drops you off at your gate. His hair sticks out wild at the ends, like he’s been pulling it all night, scratch that, all week and it makes more guilt settle deep in your gut. The scruff on his jaw is almost dark enough to be a beard now. His legs are covered in gray sweats and the white undershirt he wears fits tight over his shoulders. You hate how handsome he still is, even with his slides and socks.

He’s talking to himself, moving his hands like he’s trying to explain something, reciting a speech you can’t quite hear from as far as you are. The leftovers shift in your bag when you take your first step making the styrofoam squeak and plastic crinkle, his eyes shoot up instantly at the noise.

“Honey?”

Those wings start to stretch and flutter even after just one word. You wish you could be mad at how much power one word from him has, but all you feel is the weight of how much you missed him when his face softens.

“Hi Steve.” You catch the way his lips twitch at the sound of his name coming from your mouth when you open the gate. It had been too long for him, he’d become addicted to it without even knowing it.

He stands up, his eyes can’t help but roam your bare legs that sit exposed in your black cocktail dress, or the way the middle sinches into your waist, before fluttering out over the tops of your thighs. His own jealousy threatens to bubble over at the thought of you wearing this for someone else. He needs you to understand him.

“Is this a bad time?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck while he reads the restaurant name on your bag. He hopes whoever took you there isn’t coming back. “If it is sweetheart, I can give you more space. I just, I just wanted to see you.”

You stop in front of him, further away than normal but close enough to smell the cigar smoke that still clings to the cotton of his shirt. It mixes with the spice of his cologne from earlier this morning. His eyes find yours without hesitation, glazed over from the glass of whiskey you’re sure he nursed before finding himself on your front steps. They shimmer under the moon like emeralds and you just want to get lost in them.

The answer you want to give and the answer that you think will protect you are at each other’s throats, constricting yours from giving him anything right away. His face crumbles a little when his question is met with silence. You don’t want him to go.

“No, it’s not a bad time.” It comes out before you can fight it.

The smile that tugs at Steve’s lips warms your face like the summer sun, his hand reaching out for you before pulling back and finding a new home deep in his pocket instead. Baby steps. Your arm brushes against his when you walk past him, the smallest touch lighting the match.

“I just need to get out of this dress.” You can’t look at him when you pull at the fabric as if to show him how uncomfortable it is.

“Should I wait down here?” He clears his throat a little unsure of himself as he watches you dig through your purse. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

Cicadas buzz loud against the jingle of your keys in the beat of silence it takes you to unlock the front door. The stale air of the walkway hits you like an oven when you push it open, the heat making your skin stick more than it did outside.

“You can come up. I promise my dishes are done this time.” You flash him a smirk from over your shoulder watching the way your gesture makes him relax like you’d intended, secretly enjoying the blush you still can get to flush his cheeks so easily.

Steve hadn’t been inside your apartment since the day he fixed your sink, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him here. He’s handsome in a timeless way, still somehow put together even in his disheveled state. You watch the way he takes in his surroundings like he wants to commit it all to memory not knowing that he actually is, just in case this all blows up in his face and you never let him come back here again.

The only noise that fills the room is the loud whirr of your A/C and it’s your turn to clear your throat.

“Umm, feel free to take a seat. I’ll be really quick.” You awkwardly gesture towards your green couch, grimacing when your mind goes back to the beautiful leather one at his place.

He just nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs while taking one last look around before sitting. Your nose scrunches when you see how deep he sinks down, maybe a used couch wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had.

You wait till your door is shut to let out the long breath you feel like you’ve been holding this whole time. The familiar thumping in your chest returns ten fold. He’s in your living room.

You try not to think too much about the yoga shorts and oversized shirt you change into, especially when your muscles relax, no longer strained by the tight nylon material dress. Allowing a single once over in your long mirror, you force yourself back out, the creak of your door alerting him of your return. His stare makes goosebumps dance across sticky skin in a battle with the air conditioning.

“Do you want some water?” You try to sound casual when you ask, keeping your back to him so he can’t see the way you’re still buying time.

“S- sure,” he stutters out, a cough following and you hear the way the cushions respond to his weight as he tries leaning forward.

Now it's the whirr of your a/c and the grumbling of the ice machine that silences the unspoken feelings that are begging to come out. Scratching and clawing their way to the surface, the cracks in your facade start getting deeper the longer you stay quiet.

Steve breaks first.

“I think there’s a conversation we should have.” He pauses before starting over, “There’s a conversation I want to have.”

You freeze when the realization of where you left the watering can smacks you right in the face.

“Steve-“ you start, unable to meet his eyes and he’s quick to cut you off.

“Listen, I have some things I need to say and you should at least let me get it off my chest if you’re just going to pretend I don’t exist now.” His words make you realize the selfishness that hides under your insecurities of not being good enough for someone like him.

He stands up when you turn around, both of you staying on opposite sides of the room. He takes a shaky breath before dragging his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel these things again with anyone else, I was sure of it actually and then you showed up in your horribly packed moving truck.” He laughs a little like he’s still wrapping his head around all of it, and he knows if the situation was any different you’d roll your eyes at him for the teasing jab.

“You brought all of these things out of me that I thought I’d lost for good. Like, I can’t remember the last time I cared about what I was wearing when I left the house, but the past month I’ve been obsessed about it. Like what if she’s outside? What if she’s looking out her window? What if she wants to talk to me?” The veins in his neck show themselves as he gets more worked up but he’s not done yet.

“Then last week when you showed up at my front gate, looking even prettier than the last time I saw you, because you do that somehow, I couldn’t help myself around you anymore. The fact that you were actually going to kiss me back after I put the worst moves on you made me feel like I won the lottery or something.” His gaze meets yours to make sure he isn’t scaring you off before taking a deep breath.

“And then, and then you just - you just left without so much as a reason why. It was pretty clear though when I got home, and maybe that’s my fault because I feel like I’m doing this all backwards but you didn’t give us a chance to even talk about it.”

Steve looks like his world is falling apart, and the things he’s saying make you feel like anything but a second choice. You wish you could go back to that rainy day at his house and do things over again.

“I wasn’t given the shot at a fair fight the first time something special was taken from me, but I have one now and I’m not walking away unless you kick me out.” He straightens his shoulders a little before another anxious hand runs through his wild hair. His chest heaves as he finally gets out what’s been sitting just below the surface the whole time, his fears revealing themselves behind flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.

The feeling like you’re slighting another woman who isn’t here is hard to navigate. It makes your own eyes sting but you don’t let the tears fall. Not when he’s handing his heart to you like he means it.

“I’d never kick you out,” your words come out quiet - soft, a stark contrast to the way his boomed loud with conviction, but he doesn’t miss them.

Hope starts to sprout deep in his chest for the first time in years.

“Never?” He breathes, relief relaxing the hard lines on his face while he looks at you from under his lashes.

His feet take him those few steps closer and when you make no moves to tell him to stop he keeps going. The sadness that plagues his handsome features slowly starts to fade and the bags under his eyes become more obvious. You want to kiss them.

Your hand extends, fingers reaching out for his. His eyes follow your movements, taking in what you’re offering and he doesn’t hesitate anymore, interlocking them like when he walked you to your front door. You watch the way his shoulders give the moment they touch and his eyes close as he relishes in the feel of it. Of you.

Your back hits the edge of your kitchen sink when he crowds your space a little more, your fingers playing songs on imaginary strings together. Memorizing he dips between each one. His nose skims across your forehead making your own eyes close. How could you ever stay away from him?

“Never.”

He hums at your confession, squeezing your hand gently before pulling back. He takes his time admiring your face from this close. He missed you so much, he actually thinks it’s kind of crazy. His other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. He loves the way you lean into it. You missed him too.

“Can we have that conversation now?”

All you can do is nod, tears still threatening to spill out but now a different kind.

The two of you sit on your couch for hours, worn in cushions pushing you close together. Your head rests on his arm that’s draped along the back of it, your socked feet in his lap. He tells you how he met Emma through his high school sweetheart Nancy. The ex that turned him into a man as he put it, the one that made him really think about the kind of person he wanted to be. Even going as far to say Emma would have never given him the time of day if it wasn’t for her. Nancy was the Managing Editor of The Chicago Tribune and Emma was her Editor in Chief.

After being introduced by Nancy at a sports gala, Steve pursued her hard, especially because she said no the first three times he asked her out. It makes you giggle when he laughs about it. He said he knew he wanted to marry her after the first date and a year later he proposed to her on a group vacation with Eddie, Robin, Nancy and a few other friends in Mexico. The picture you saw was taken right after she said yes.

The wedding was small, just a few of their closest friends at The Chicago Botanical Gardens, and a dinner at Smith & Wollensky next to the river after. He told you how Eddie pretended to be mad the whole night becauseSteve made Robin his best man instead. They both moved into Steve’s apartment near Wrigley Field after a honeymoon in Italy. He said it was some of the best years of his life with her there, young and in love in one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city. Then a few years passed and both their careers started taking off and they started wanting more as they got older. A family.

That’s when they started to invest in renovating this fixer upper of a house in a less nightlife oriented neighborhood. The house you live next door to. Between busy work schedules and dealing with contractors when the symptoms first started, they didn’t think anything of it. They chalked it up to exhaustion until she fainted in her office a few months later, then they finally saw a doctor. Another month later after multiple tests and hospital visits Emma was diagnosed with ALS.

“I’ve never seen something debilitate someone so fast, and Emma, god Emma was so strong. Seeing her like that at the end, it fucking broke me.” Steve’s voice cracks, a silent stream of tears falling down his cheeks now.

Your heart breaks for them, the tragedy of watching the person you love fall apart with nothing to do to stop it. An entire life you had planned ripped out from under you with zero warning or mercy. A cruel joke.

You reach up, using the back of your knuckles to wipe away his tears. He leans in your touch, his gaze meeting yours with so many emotions inside of them, you think you might drown.

“We decided to stay in our apartment when she couldn’t walk anymore, with the rate it was moving she didn’t want me to live in this big new house meant for our new beginning and have her…have her die in it,” the last part comes out in just above a whisper, stopping to collect his thoughts. His brows furrow together and his fingers search for yours again. You give them to him without question.

“We checked her into hospice a month after that, Eddie flew in the day she chose to get off assistance. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most those last days.” He takes another deep breath before he continues, it shakes just like his hands.

“That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I don’t know how someone is supposed to go through that kind of pain and move on from it. Be a person again after it.” He takes another pause and he pulls you closer. His anchor.

“I don’t know if I’d still be here if it wasn’t for Eddie moving into the house with me those first three months, if I’m being totally honest with you.” He sniffs, his gaze falls to his lap to try and hide the shame at the thought, and you squeeze his hand a little bit harder.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” Your voice cracks at the weight of everything he’s been carrying around. The gravity of the way you left him tightens in your throat.

The tears you’d been holding back break free, making his eyes snap to yours. He lets your hand go to wipe your cheeks with gentle fingers like you did to his just moments before. He knows you're apologizing for more than just his bad luck.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay now,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The tips of your noses touch, tears mixing and dripping down the ends of them. You keep your eyes closed in hopes that if you focus hard enough, maybe you could take away some of his pain. Even if it’s just a little bit. “We’re okay now.”

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like this together, not speaking, letting wandering hands memorize faces and fingertips. Your breathing falls in time while your cheeks start to dry. Puffy red eyes stay closed while your muscles finally relax. His nose rubs small circles against yours that make smiles neither of you can see stretch across tear streaked faces.

When you finally open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, something brighter inside of his now like he just let go of a big secret. He doesn’t have to hide anymore.

It’s you that finally works up the strength to pull away enough to really see his whole face after depriving yourself of it for so long.

“I actually kinda feel like she sent you here, despite me,” he admits, laughing nervously, breaking the silence, “She made me promise her that I’d try and find love again when the time was right, I eventually said yes after she asked me at least a dozen times, but I never actually intended on it.”

Steve stops for a second to brush some of your mascara that smudged, holding your eyes in the forest of his.

“Then five years later, this tough girl tries moving an entire apartment’s worth of stuff by herself next door. I mean, you practically did.” He smiles at how proud you look of yourself, “I knew I was screwed when Bandit sniffed you out.”

You giggle like you're just as love sick as him and he wishes he could play it on a loop whenever he’s sad.

“She was probably laughing at how bad I was at trying to flirt with you.” His ears turn cherry red while he tries to hide his very real embarrassment.

“You did run away from me for like a solid week after we met the first time if you remember,” you tease, making his eyebrows raise in challenge. You weren’t supposed to roast him too.

“I guess we’re even then aren’t we?” He counters, smirking when you scoff, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t move away like you try to in fake protest.

Your legs end up draped over the tops of his thighs, fitting snug into his side. The warmth of his body makes your eyelids droopy. The cedar undertones he always carries calms all of your nerves.

“She was beautiful Steve,” you whisper, playing with the chain that dangles off his neck before looking up at him with a smile, “And maybe even a little too cool for you if I dare say.” It’s genuine when it comes out of your mouth, no hidden insecurities, an understanding that he wasn’t settling for you and it makes Steve want to kiss you even more.

“She would have thought you were way too cool for me too.” He laughs, tracing the side of your face with his fingertips. You want to look away from the intensity of it all but you force yourself to hold his stare, keeping yourself open for him. It’s quiet for a few minutes, letting everything that was shared tonight really sink in. That stray you missed so much makes an appearance and you finally get to be the one that pushes it back, and his hair is just as soft as you imagined.

“What are you doing on the fourth, pretty girl?” The new nickname makes you shift in your seat, the hint of a smug smirk begs to break across his face when he catches it. Maybe he’s still got it.

“Nothing, I got the day off.” You hate that his question is enough to make you shy.

It’s too hard to hold his gaze this time, but he doesn’t let that slide. His fingers hook under your chin to tilt your eyes back up to his. Noses brushing, your lips just inches apart like this.

“Be my date to the block party?” He whispers, whiskey and tobacco still lingering on his breath.

You smile, nudging your nose against his in a dare.

“I’d love to Steve.” His name comes out around strawberry chapstick lips, they brush with his feeling like velvet and it makes his nostrils flare.

He dips his head with a groan kissing the corner of mouth instead, before placing one on both your cheeks and another, a lingering one, against your forehead.

“In honor of not doing things backwards, I’m going to wait until I’ve taken you out. The way it should happen. The way someone like you deserves.”

Steve wants to make you feel special too.

It's hard for you to feel rejected with his reasoning and seeing the clock on your stove read in bright red numbers - 2:46am. The fourth was only three days away now.

You play it off with a roll of your eyes and a dramatic “fine” that makes him really laugh for the first time all night, giving you another kiss on the cheek. This one a little wet. He can’t get enough of the way you can’t look at him after.

It’s another thirty minutes before he decides it’s time to go home when your yawn is too loud to hide and your head presses harder into his chest. He wishes he could stay, and one night he knows he will.

You both linger in the doorway with fingers wrapped up tight, neither one of you ready to let go. He just wants to stare at you, but he knows the alarm stuffed in his pocket is going to make his life miserable in three hours.

Instead, he gives you another kiss on the forehead telling you he’ll text in the morning, and he wishes he could have a picture of the smile you give him when you promise to text back.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

older!steve edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

🌇 -> chapter eight

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