#but I've never been able to do short
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mannnnnn now that i've actually started medical transition it seems that i will, hopefully, someday, get through to the other side of the limbo tunnel and can hopefully explore more permanent masculine attire. which is as exciting as it is daunting. like, i'm under no illusions that there's a tangible cutoff point where i will Suddenly be out of the limbo state (though top surgery will certainly help if i can get it), and there's no one thing holding me back from exploring this space *now*, but it's. Difficult ,
the List of challenges i must navigate:
- men's fashion is on a surface level very sad and boring and i crave whimsy :( i know knowledge and experience will help but it's like playing on hard mode compared to being a Weird Girl (tm). i am currently gnc against my will and i desire to be gnc Intentionally and on my own terms
- hashtag short king problems. masculine attire was never made with me in mind. almost every time i observe an aspirational example of Men's Fashion it's on a tall lanky guy and that will never be me and that's okay but throw me a bone pleas
- the Autism Sensibilities. collars too close to the neck depletes me of HP. wearing accessories for too long depletes me of mana. if a button up is made of a slightly too stiff material it will give me rashes. i cannot wear binders because i value my ability to breathe comfortably. i can only do so many layers at once before i hit a game over screen. i MUST be comforble
- the restrictions of my circumstances, such as the safety rules of the watchmaker workshop or the mercy of scandinavian weather gods
i'm sure i will figure things out with time. i'm going to need patience. i'm probably going to have to learn how to tailor trousers. i will need to Observe how others dress. but it's so much!! ahh!!!!
#this post was inspired by ND stevenson's latest substack comic about men's fashion when trans#it was very good and inspiring to read and touched on a lot of things i've been thinking about#and i think my biggest takeaway is that i just need to follow more guys doing aspirational fashion on instagram haha#anyway if you know of any fashionable short kings and especially anyone considered plus size please recommend#like the goal is to dress in a way that's fun and comfy for Me without necessarily having to adhere to societal norms#but i would also like to be ABLE to dress professionally and respectably when necessary#i was never good at feminine fashion either and i think it's been painfully obvious to everyone growing up that i was Autism#but it was very easy to just get weird with feminine clothes and do your own thing as a weird girl highschooler#head of the gender clinic: 'have you tried purchasing men's clothes' HAVE YOU??? HAVE YOU GRAPPPED WITH MEN'S FASHION AND STYLES???
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Day 29: Favorite Glamour
from practical, to... less so, an adventurer's got to have a rather large wardrobe to suit all occasions.
#miqomarch 2024#miqomarch#ffxiv miqo'te#final fantasy 14#seeker of the sun#aka my main looks for each expac....#its been a time trying to figure out his style but ive been pretty consistently putting him in like.#flowy sleeves flowy pants cinched waist kind of stuff. and i think it works for him#im trying to keep him pretty masc bc that is like a big part of Himself#being a tia and a man is a big part of his identity#but not being able to be like. a Proper tia according to his father was a big part of him feeling like he wasn't enough for the longest tim#and why he was sooo desperate to feel needed. because his very first task#the one he was born to fulfill#he couldn't do at all#he's also usually pretty covered up because he has a little bit of a case of the never nudes... but i've been putting a lot of short sleeve#on him lately which do look nice i think#miqo'te are hard to dress they're so fucking SQUARE. he is a challenge but i love him!#m: o'nehgi
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i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!
#i know i'm being dramatic and privileged etc etc right now but i hate living like this#i probably had covid in the beginning of august and since then my heart and lungs have just been fucked#so now i'm probably looking at at least 2 years of long covid and maybe permanent neurological damage#could i be lucky and get better in few more months? maybe. do i believe that will happen? no. optimistically maybe next summer id be better#my symptoms are not that bad considering what i know other people have suffered but at the same time that makes it feel not real#otherwise i'm pretty much fine except i feel like fainting alot after standing up or excerting myself and anything beyond walking#spikes my hr to 160 and right now even laying down my hr is around 80. this comes with the associated shortness of breath etc#what fucks me up about this is that my normal hr is low with my rhr being under 50bpm and i'm physically active#so basically i've went from regular running and half marathons being no issue to not being able to jog 1km at the slowest pace possible#without spiking my hr to zone 4#so now with the recovery time of this being however long if properly ever i'll have to basically start all over again with everything#i biked to the grocery store yesterday and that took me out for the rest of the day because my heart rate just didn't go down afterwards#outwards i look fine and i wouldn't be as affected if sports and moving wasn't a part of my life and relationships but it is#i've read studies about recovery times and a lot of them don't feel applicable because the test groups are either very different from me#based on the baseline health info such as activity levels or they're elite atheletes which i am not#some have given me hope that keeping my hr under like 130 by doing activities like walking until maybe someday things get better works#but who knows and even if it does this will be yet another thing that takes the littlest bits of muscle tissue i have on me away once again#because besides deconditioning muscle loss is yet another symptom. so i will be even weaker than i am right now#i don't know how much of what i'm experiencing in terms of mental effects is from anxiety over my physical health and how much is brainfog#but we'll see i'll just have to start walking a lot every day and keep up with simple and slow strenght training so i'll want to die less#i don't think my family will ever properly understand because almost all of them are athletes and the one who isn't never does any excercis#so either i just look like i'm weak but i was always weak so it's not a big deal or my experience isn't really that important#this is so so so pathetic both my reaction and the issue but it's difficult to not feel this way especially with the uncertainty#shit talking
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So I just remembered hearing that spinda had a ton of forms for some reason, so I decided to look up just how many. The answer I got on Google was 4,294,967,296 different patterns not including shiny versions of those patterns! There are probably shiny spindas that have never been caught before! Who was sitting on the team of game freak and thought "Hmmm 🤔 I wonder how many different patterns of a Pokemon I'm allowed to make?" And then actually tried it! I'd be more understanding if they gave it like 60 forms as a joke but 4,294,967,296? Really?
#Fun fact despite my profile picture I've never been able to play a Pokemon game#Just never got the opportunity to#I want to though#Only ever played the Roblox parodies#Pokemon brick bronze and I forgot what it rebranded to shout-out#Pokemon#Spinda#Rant#sorry lol#Also I just saw a short with bald spinda#I'm concerned#how do i tag#Maybe that's why it's so dizzy it's trying to wrap its head around why it has so many forms#a rare original post
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One time my Mum drove over a kerb and got her car stuck at a hardware store, and three different men just came over to help unprompted. The only thing they said about it was directly related to solving the problem, and in the end all three of them just seamlessly worked together to physically lift the front of the car so my Mum could reverse out. They succeeded, saving us tow truck fees and ensuring the nice afternoon we had planned was able to go on. They asked for nothing and we never saw them again. All it took was my Mum calling them her heroes, and those men were walking on air all the way into the hardware store.
I just think that maybe, just maybe, blaming the pain and suffering caused by our patriarchal system on men's individual nature is uhhhh, some bullshit.
I see the radfems out there saying that every man who's ever been born is a psychopath who's constantly looking for an opportunity to commit a felony and then I remember this one time I was really struggling to get a shopping cart out of another shopping cart and a dude came over to help me, but he couldn't do it, and then another dude came over to help him, and then another came over because it was a challenge he wanted in on, and then I had 3 guys all tearing at a stuck shopping cart, and literally none of them even needed a cart.
And when they got it out, they fist pumped and I said thanks so much and one of them said "easy." And then they left.
And it's like.
I don't think radfems go outside.
#Shoutout to the mitre 10 dads who saved us that day#if you're going to get into car distress he hardware store is exactly where you wanna do it#easiest place to summon The Dads#Also re: the patriarchy I have some been having some Thoughts about that lately#Funnily enough it was a comment on an ex mormon woman's youtube short of all things that blew my thinking wide open#and it said “the patriarchy is not man vs woman. It's man vs man and women are the prize”#and like shit I think that's right#As women we live in a system that dehumanises us and turns us into babymaking chattel#but just because there is no way for a woman to win under the patriarchy does not mean there is no way for a man to lose#All I'm saying is that young men are rarely the ones making the decisions that get themselves killed in wars#Young men are very seldom the ones calling the shots that get them worked to the bone and disabled by the time they're middle aged#When this happens it is the older men in positions of power that are left with the access to money and women#Which is exemplified in the mormon church where young men are given disabling physical work by the church elders#who are then able to amass multiple wives#I've never been mormon so I can't speak on this subject and am just repeating what I remember as best I can#But I think that mormonism is a fascinating microcosm of the patriarchy and worth studying if you're serious about feminism#check out Alyssa Grenfell on youtube she's fascinating#and there's often a lot of interesting things happening in her comments section
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Not me...putting all my time into.......a fandom event..............that I didn't even plan to participate in...................................
#THERE WAS FEMSLASH. AND ALL THE PROMPTS WERE SHORT.#I COULDN'T RESIST OKAY#hey it gave me an excuse to write some things I either haven't been able to finish anything for or didn't originally intend to write for#we got some good ones in here#(good ships I mean. idk if the mini-fics are good lol. I've long since given up on trying to evaluate my own writing.)#there are. almost three. finished. I will probably do a fourth. maybe super short fics were the key all along#or maybe it's just the adrenaline of finally finishing SOMETHING because everything I've tried to work on the past like. four years has#turned into this giant sprawling thing that I can NEVER ACTUALLY FULLY GET THROUGH#(also you get to like. request prompts. if you write stuff. and I am ALWAYS trying to. get people to write my yuri rarepairs.)#(if I ever get to a point where I can actually write long-form convoluted makihime it is OVER. for EVERYONE.)#okay bye again. this is my weekly check for bots/messages peace out y'all
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Just This Once: Part Two
Pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Your dad surprises you after work with a brand new bed as a late birthday present. The kicker? Joel is there to help assemble it, leading to a very tense afternoon.
Warnings: no outbreak au, language, smut (18+ MDNI), age gap, phone sex (alluded to), sexual tension, references to masturbation (both), reader's mom is dead, reader has hair (length unspecified), size kink, unprotected piv sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk, sneaking around, mutual pining, takin' nudes
WC: 6.6K
Part One
Let me know when you get home safe
You smirk and collapse into bed.
I've been home for 20 min. What took you so long?
Then...
??
You roll your eyes and burrow deeper into your covers.
I thought you'd text me sooner. I left almost 40 min ago.
You wait anxiously for Joel to reply, staring at your screen for the words to appear. Truthfully, you have no idea what you even want him to say, just that you want to keep him talking.
I had no idea what to say
You grin and before you can reply, another text comes through.
Still don't
Butterflies bloom in your stomach as you type out your response.
Where are you?
It takes less than thirty seconds for him to answer: bed.
You're thinking about me in bed?
You can practically hear his heavy sigh from across the city.
We can't do that again, I told you
Do what?
Don't play dumb darlin - you know what
I just asked a question.
Your old man's got a shotgun in his basement, I've seen it
Your shoulders sag and you relent.
Ok ok.... it won't happen again and I won't breathe a word of it to anyone. Promise.
Good
And you think that's the end of it. After you don't reply to his last text and he doesn't add anything further, you roll over to switch off your lamp and you do your best to focus on falling asleep without thinking of Joel's deep brown eyes gazing up at you while you ride him, all hazy and filled with desire. You quickly find it's impossible not to and it has you tossing and turning while trying to ignore the fresh ache growing between your legs. You skirt your hand down past your sleep shorts with a frustrated huff when, to your delight, your phone lights up again.
What are you wearing?
---
It's Friday, fucking finally. Your entire week at work had been shit. You made one tiny mistake that ended up costing you three hours to fix, a mistake you don't normally make and you just know it's because you've been distracted.
It's been two weeks since you've gone to visit your dad, meaning it's been two weeks since you've laid eyes on Joel. That night you shared should have slowly become a distant memory, but instead you found yourself texting him every single day, making it impossible to forget. Sometimes it was innocent enough, but at one point or another the conversation always turned flirty, which then turned heated, which then evolved to one of you giving in and calling the other so you could whisper filth into the phone with your fingers stuffed inside your pussy, but no matter how much you try, you're never able to get as deep or make yourself feel as good as Joel did.
It's driving you crazy.
So when you arrive home from work Friday afternoon and throw your car into park, you're too distracted to notice a familiar pickup truck parked on the street. To be fair, you live above a restaurant, so there's often cars parked along the street. You've learned to block it out. But when you go to open your door only to find it already unlocked, your heart stutters in your chest and you glance around. That's when you spot your father's truck and you roll your eyes.
"Dad?" you call up the stairs from down below.
"Yeah, honey, up here!"
You close the door behind you and trudge up the stairs, dodging various pairs of shoes you store on the end of each step. Right when you turn to enter your kitchen, you hear your father talking and laughing with someone. You don't have much time to wonder who it is because then you hear his voice, all low and velvety smooth. The very same voice that just the night before was telling you through the phone how much he missed your perfect, soft pussy and then begged you for a picture.
It suddenly became impossible to breathe.
"Hey, Kiddo," your dad says when he steps out of your bedroom. He's carrying large cardboard pieces to the stairs and sweat coats his face. "Me 'n Joel are puttin' your new bed frame together. Almost done."
Him and Joel. Joel. Putting together your bed. Joel is in your bedroom.
Your skin feels like it's on fire and your blood is pumping so fast, it makes you lightheaded.
"Uh, w-what new bed frame?" you stammer, forcing yourself to move out of his way.
"The one I promised for your birthday," he calls over his shoulder from your stairwell. Your eyes rake across the kitchen towards your open bedroom door, but Joel is nowhere to be seen. "Sorry it took so long but I told ya I'd get to it."
"Oh," you say, "uh, t-thank you. You didn't - um - you didn't have to do that."
Your dad emerges from the stairs and your gaze sweeps back over to him.
"Sure I did. It's your birthday present. 'Sides..." He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and looks to the floor when he says, "felt bad 'bout our fight. Wanted to make things right, check in on ya. Miss seein' you 'round."
"Oh, Dad, it's fine. I'm not mad anymore, I've just been busy with work and stuff," you say. He looks down at your work clothes: a thin blouse half tucked into an off-white pencil skirt and heels.
"Look so grown up," he murmurs softly. You give him a small smile and shrug, temporarily forgetting Joel is just in the next room until your dad says, "Don't my little girl look all grown up, Joel?"
Joel's standing in the doorway to your bedroom, staring at you across the kitchen. You swallow and tighten your fingers around the edge of your counter and you fucking pray your father doesn't read the hungry look in Joel's eyes when he slowly and appreciatively sizes you up and down.
"Yeah," he finally says, voice only a little gravelly. It could be innocent, but you knew better. He clears his throat and tries again. "Look real grown up."
You give him a smile, one you hope looks natural. "Thanks, Joel."
Your dad snorts and crosses the kitchen, heading back towards your bedroom to finish your bed frame. "Callin' him Joel now? Since when?"
Joel locks eyes with you and you see it. You fucking see that heated look he gives you, letting you know exactly what he's thinking about: you, grinding down on his lap and whispering little teases in his ear while calling him Mr. Miller.
"Oh, uh, I-"
"I told her to," Joel says over his shoulder once your dad disappears into your bedroom. Joel's eyes remain firmly pinned on you when he adds, "She's grown now 'n all."
Your eyes widen and you shoot him a look, but Joel just grins and turns back around, back into your fucking bedroom, to help your dad finish up.
Your head spins. This is not the way you wanted Joel in your apartment for the first time. You tiptoe in your heels to peek inside your room, where your father is sprawled out on your carpet with a wrench and Joel is holding your new padded headboard in place. Your dad is murmuring to himself as he focuses on securing the headboard to the rest of the frame but all you can focus on are Joel's massive hands curling around the beige fabric. You bite your lip and lean casually against the doorframe, allowing yourself to fantasize about Joel's grip on that headboard while he's pounding into you over and over and-
"I'm gonna order some pizza!" you exclaim suddenly. Your dad pauses and looks at you curiously but Joel just smirks. There's no possible way he didn't see right through you. Not with that smile and the way his cheeks tinted.
"Alright," your dad says slowly before focusing back on his work. You hurry into the kitchen and place an order from the restaurant downstairs, then anxiously look around. You're lucky your place isn't messier. At least your laundry is put away and the only dishes in your sink are from breakfast.
Still in your work clothes, you wander over to check your fridge, delighted to find that you have a few cans of beer left over from your friends.
In your bedroom, you hear your dad tell Joel he's all done. You hear shuffling and you imagine they are putting your bed back against the wall because next, they pop out of your room and head towards your living room, where your mattress and boxspring are temporarily being stored.
Joel tosses you a wink as he trails after your dad and you have to turn around and do the dishes so they don't see how flustered you are.
Your legs press together when you hear Joel's familiar grunts from somewhere behind you while he and your father struggle to drag your boxspring and then your mattress back in place. You're scrubbing a plate so fucking hard, you're surprised it doesn't shatter in your hands because you can't stop thinking about Joel and all the things you'd let him do to you if your dad wasn't there at that very moment.
"- you listenin' to me?" your father's voice says, causing you to jump and drop your sponge.
"Huh?"
You look at him, trying to ignore Joel next to him as he sheds his flannel and plucks loosely at the black t-shirt underneath, unsticking it from his sweaty chest. Fuck.
"Said Joel's gonna take the trash out and I'm gonna go grab that pizza. How long they say it'll take?"
You blink, blood singing hot in your veins when you mumble should be ready soon, then slowly dry your hands on a towel while your father and Joel collect the trash from your bed frame to take down to the dumpster.
Your apartment is silent for a few minutes after they disappear outside, the only sound coming from your heart pounding steadily in your ears as you wait for the door downstairs to open again.
When you hear the squeaky hinges open and close, then the dull, slow thud of his footsteps climbing the stairs, you remain stock still at your sink. Your fingernails press so hard into the stainless steel, it's a wonder they don't break. You can't bring yourself to turn around when he steps through the door, back into your kitchen. He told you it couldn't happen again and you agreed, but your phone calls the last two weeks spoke otherwise.
Without saying a word, Joel's on you in an instant, spinning you around and crashing his mouth hungrily against yours, driving away that little voice in the back of your head that keeps reminding you just this once, just this once.
You nearly crumple in his arms, feeble fingers digging into his shoulders for something to hold onto. His tongue slips past your lips with a groan and his hands grab eagerly at your blouse, bunching up the fabric in his fists, too fucking crazed and desperate to feel you again.
You whimper and he swallows it down, big hands releasing your shirt to travel lower and grab at your ass confined in your tight skirt. His skin is slightly damp with sweat and he tastes so good and feels so warm that it has you guiding his hand to the zipper of your skirt, encouraging him to pull it down.
"Can't," he mumbles before latching his mouth onto your neck.
You're impatient. You rake your fingers through his tousled hair and he sighs against your throat.
"Y'smell so good," he says, body pressing against yours, pinning your back to the edge of the counter.
"Joel-" you beg, but he keeps talking and his hands keep searching, grabbing for any part of you he can find.
"Been half hard since I got here," he admits, the confession sending a shock of arousal straight through your stomach and down to your core. "Got any idea what it was like for me to be in that room, movin' that mattress, knowin' you were fuckin' yourself right there last night?"
You gasp and claw at his hair, his neck - anywhere - while his mouth drags down the column of your throat. He ruts his hips against your stomach and you squeak when you're reminded of just how fucking big and thick he is. You drop your hand and rub your palm against the soft denim, over his impossibly hard cock caged in his jeans, and you whine in his ear. A wordless plea.
"Can't," he says again, but his hips buck forward, chasing your hand. He pulls you closer, his teeth scrape your jaw, and then his lips are seared over yours once again, smearing whatever remains of your lipstick.
Joel gasps and breaks the kiss but keeps his hips firmly pressed into your palm. He looks down at you like he wants to swallow you whole, his brown eyes so dark they look nearly black. One hand lifts to get tangled in your hair as you both fight every impulse to tear each other apart right then and there.
"I'll ... I'll call you tonight-" he begins, voice sounding pained. You shake your head. His grip in your hair tightens.
"No, Joel, please," you beg. Not another phone call. If you didn't know any better, you sound as if you're on the verge of tears. He sighs and presses his forehead to yours, his wet lips hovering over your mouth when you say, "it's not enough. I need you. Please, Joel, I can't-"
The door downstairs swings open and you fucking fly apart. Joel's eyes, which were just filled with lust, now are wild with panic.
"Go to your bedroom, y-your hair and-" he waves his hand in front of his mouth and you hurry away as he's wiping the lipstick from his own mouth, closing the door behind you. A few seconds later, the door to your kitchen opens and you hear your father's voice. With trembling hands, you unbutton your blouse and unzip your skirt so you can change into more comfortable clothes while you hear plates being pulled from your cupboard. Your dad is telling Joel some story about the customer ahead of him in line who was asking every question under the sun about the ingredients in their sauce as you pull on a soft pair of leggings and an oversized shirt.
Before joining them for dinner, you tug a brush through your hair, taming the mess Joel's hand left behind, and wipe off the lipstick from your mouth and cheek. Once you think you look somewhat normal, although internally you might be on the verge of a fucking stroke, you take a shaky breath in and step out of your bedroom.
"Hey! There she is!"
You give your dad a weak smile and head for the fridge, avoiding Joel's eye but feeling his stare burning into your back.
"Here, I have a few of these," you say, grabbing the cans of beer and putting them on the table. "Some friend left them behind, I think."
Joel is sitting at your small, round kitchen table next to your father with an untouched piece of pizza on his plate. Meanwhile, your dad is nearly halfway through his first slice. You pull a glass from your cupboard and fill it at the sink, using the opportunity to take deep breaths and calm your nerves.
Unfortunately, when you turn around, Joel locks eyes with you and you feel as though you may melt into the floor. His fists clench tight on the table and you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for it, but his chest rises quicker than usual and there's a pink tint to his cheeks.
You sink into the chair across from him and shakily pick a piece of pizza from the box. You're hungry but you're so fucking turned on, it's hard to think about anything else. The pull between your legs is so uncomfortable, it has you shifting your weight in your seat while you take a few small bites of food. Joel must be feeling similarly because out of the corner of your eye, you finally see him slowly unfurl a fist and pick up his pizza.
"You seein' someone?"
Your eyes snap up to your father and you freeze. "What?" you ask breathlessly.
He points to the beers before grabbing one and cracking it open.
"You said a friend left 'em. You seein' someone new?"
Your throat closes up. You shake your head and take a bite of pizza so you can avoid elaborating. Across from you, Joel stiffens but remains silent. Your dad chuckles and he elbows Joel, snapping him out of his trance.
"'Member when we'd sit on the porch, waitin' for her dates to bring her home?"
"That only happened, like, twice," you mumble.
"Boys need'ta learn early on not to mess 'round and have some manners. Kept 'em in line," your dad continues, grabbing another piece of pizza. "Say the word and I can do it again-"
"How about you, Dad?" you ask, cutting him off. You can practically feel the tension radiating off Joel's shoulders from the direction the conversation was heading, and you need to put a stop to it. "Are you seeing anyone?"
The distraction is sufficient. Your dad launches into a ten minute monologue about his dry dating life while you and Joel do your best to act interested. The last fucking thing you want is for your dad to scare Joel off by reminding him of his fierce, protective side. Like he isn't already aware.
But perhaps you were too late because after they both finish eating and say their goodbyes, Joel can't look you in the eye. Something tells you that it isn't because he's trying to hide his attraction for you. You can't put your finger on it. Something about his body language and energy just seem... off. And then sure enough, hours later when you are distracting yourself with television after sending Joel multiple unanswered texts, you think your suspicion is correct.
---
A loud pounding on your door wakes you from a deep sleep. You startle awake with your heart in your throat. Your television is still on, forgotten, just like your phone buried somewhere in your sheets. You stumble out of bed after another knock that threatens to bring down the entire building and squint at the microwave to check the time.
Just past two in the morning. What the fuck?
You are about to go downstairs when logic prevails and you go to your window, instead.
The only car on the street is Joel's truck, right in front of your building.
Shit.
You fucking race to your bathroom and gargle with mouthwash for about three seconds. As you are hurrying down the stairs, you comb your fingers through your hair, hoping you look decent enough but knowing deep down it wouldn't really matter.
When you open the door, a shiver shoots down your spine.
"Joel," you barely get out before his crowding you, pushing you up against your stairs, mouth already devouring yours as he kicks the door shut behind him.
You curse, but it's muffled. His mouth is hard and insistent against yours, almost like he's angry, but not at you. His hands scan your body, over your pajamas, your face, your exposed skin, while his tongue explores your mouth. It's familiar now, for you both, under the cover of night once again, where your secret can remain safe.
It's a miracle you make it up the stairs without falling. You don't remember his mouth or hands ever leaving you as you stumble through your kitchen and into your room.
The television still plays in your otherwise dark room. Flickering lights dance across the walls, soft syndicated laughter is registered in the back of your brain. He untangles one hand from your hair and the other he pulls from underneath your shirt, then he takes a step back. You both drag in air, panting and studying each other's faces. His cheeks look flushed and your skin feels just as hot. Hair equally wild. The energy between you is palpable, crackling like electricity.
"Thought you got scared off," you say, breaking the silence. He blinks.
"Why?"
You shrug, already wishing you had waited til later to bring this up.
"You seemed weird when you left."
His throat bobs and he shakes his head, then his gaze shifts to your chest before finding your eyes again.
"Just needed to get the hell outta here 'fore he noticed somethin' was goin' on."
You nod slowly. Oh. So maybe you're a little paranoid. It doesn't explain the unanswered texts, but you don't feel much like talking anymore.
You dip down, crawling backwards onto your bed and whisper his name, dropping your head onto your pillows with a sigh, then fight back a smile at the greedy way his eyes rake up and down your body.
"Come here," you say quietly. You reach your arms out and wiggle your fingers. His dark eyes lock with yours and you grin.
His hands fall to his belt and warmth pools low in your stomach, deep between your legs. You squirm impatiently when he slowly slides the leather through his belt loops.
"Just..." he begins, pausing when you sit up to toss your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare to him. He swallows hard and continues. "Just one more time."
You would have agreed to anything in that moment, so you nod while he pushes his jeans down to the floor before lowering himself to your bed. He crawls over you and your legs spread so his hips can settle there, pressing against your aching cunt. His arms tuck underneath your shoulders and just the weight of him pressing against your chest and pushing your legs apart is so fucking exquisite that it has your own hips circling for friction. You moan into his mouth when his lips find yours again and everything feels right, so fucking right, that tears burn the back of your eyes.
"Bad girl," he murmurs against your lips. Your fingers card through his thick, wavy hair and you smile. "Textin' me when I'm out with your old man. Coulda got me killed."
"You - what?" you breathe, tipping your head back so he could leave wet, open mouthed kisses along your throat. He sucks a little mark over your pulse point and then his lips find yours again before answering.
"Went out for a few beers after we left," he says while tilting his head to the opposite side. His tongue glides back inside your mouth and you taste it now, the remnants of the drinks he had earlier. Your fingers in his hair tighten. Relief washes over you.
You decide to ignore how obviously desperate you are for Joel's attention - something you know is a bad sign. Instead, you sigh and rut your hips upwards a little harder, pulling a low groan from his throat.
"Did you have fun?" you ask with a teasing grin. He picks up on it and growls, then palms your hip, squeezing the soft skin there, pulling you closer.
"Not as much fun as I'm havin' now."
You giggle when he pinches you and you try to squirm away, but you're still pinned helplessly underneath his broad frame.
Joel laughs, too, before leaving a trail of gentle kisses across your chest. It feels so loving and sweet that it has your breath catching in your throat even before his mouth latches onto your breast, tongue teasing your nipple with a satisfied hum before doing the same to the other.
"I missed you," you whisper boldly, pulse thrumming fast in your throat as you wait for his response. Is it too much? Maybe. But it's true.
"Was just here a few hours ago," he says. You roll your eyes.
"Not what I meant."
Joel sighs and rests the side of his head against your chest. You're absolutely certain he can hear how fast your heart is racing. He wraps his arms around you a little tighter when he admits, "Me, too."
And it's enough, for now, to know he craved you the same way you craved him.
His hand skids down your bare side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until one finger hooks around the lace edge of your panties and gives them a playful tug. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and lift your hips so he can slide them and your shorts down your legs.
You become very aware you are stark naked underneath Joel Miller for the very first time while he somehow still has on his t-shirt and boxers. He pushes off the mattress and looks down to admire you all sprawled out for him and you feel a rush of embarrassment. That is, until he says-
"So fuckin' beautiful."
His voice is soft and filled with so much awe that you just might believe him. His gaze skims every inch of your exposed skin: your arms, your waist, your thighs. Like he's trying to memorize every little thing he sees.
"I want you," you gasp when his fingers delicately graze the inside of you leg. His deep brown eyes lift and he smirks when his fingers trail closer and closer to where you need him most.
"Yeah?" he asks. His voice sounds deeper and your legs begin to shake. His fingertips brush over your slit and you gasp again, body writhing on your bed - the bed he helped fucking build. You nod and lift your hips.
"Please."
Joel tuts and pushes one thick finger through your folds. He circles over your entrance but doesn't go any further. He just slowly slips his finger through your pussy, dragging it up, up, up until he's pressing down on your clit and you're moaning his name with your eyes squeezed shut.
"This what you want?" he breathes, arousal evident in his voice. You nod enthusiastically, chest heaving as he continues his slow, torturous route. Then he removes his finger and you whine in protest until your eyes reopen. He slips his finger into his mouth with a quiet groan, eyelids fluttering and you imagine his tongue swirling around, collecting your slick and swallowing it down.
You're afraid you may go insane if he doesn't fuck you soon.
"Joel-"
"I gotta- fuck," he moans before dropping onto his hands and settling his shoulders between your thighs. He pushes open your legs, spreading you wide so he can admire your glistening cunt up close. His teeth nip your inner thigh but his eyes remain glued to your center. "I gotta taste you, darlin'," he says, and it's amusing how he actually sounds filled with regret when he says it. You would have laughed if his lips didn't suction around your pussy a second later, tongue plunging through your folds just to flatten and circle your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to make your back arch off the mattress.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan his name. Your body is so wound tight, not only from earlier when he had you pinned against your kitchen counter with your father just downstairs, but from weeks without his touch.
"Can't believe how good this tight little pussy takes my cock," he mumbles, face buried between your legs, eyes closed.
Your thighs tremble underneath his hands, which are splayed wide, thumbs parting your lips to make way for his tongue. One of your hands snakes down to get lost in his messy hair, the other grips the sheets for dear life while Joel eats at your center with more enthusiasm than anyone else who has been in his position. By a mile.
His beard burns the inside of your thighs and in the back of your mind, you hope you'll still feel it in the morning. You're so desperate for any reminder of the way he tears you apart that you'll gladly embrace the discomfort.
Every time his warm tongue glides through your folds, he moans. Your face feels like it's on fire when you grind your hips onto his mouth, gasping and dragging in air like you're drowning. He seems to love it. Every roll of your hips causes him to squeeze the meat of your thighs, and when you whimper his name, all rough and needy, his tongue works even faster. He licks and sucks and moans into your cunt, and when he slides two thick fingers inside of you with ease, you curse and dig your heel into his back.
"Fuck," he whispers when he pulls his face away to catch his breath. He stares down at his fingers buried deep, watching the way you stretch for him, suck him in. His eyes go dark when a thick drop of your arousal slips down his fingers, pooling between his knuckles.
"Wish you could see the way this perfect pussy opens up f'me," he murmurs, still entranced.
You don't even think. Your mind is a hazy blur, heart thrashing in your chest at the way he holds you right on the brink of your release. So, you say, "Show me," and point to the Polaroid next to your bed.
Joel's eyes flicker, following your hand, and he grins.
You had been tinkering with it the past few days, trying to fix the blue marks that were showing up on all your photos. After cleaning the rollers and checking the expiration date on the film, you figured out a film shield was the answer and you had been taking test shots in your room since it had the best lighting.
Could he have taken pictures with his phone? Sure. But something about the way he handled the clunky camera with one hand was so fucking hot, you're eternally grateful you abandoned it on your end table.
He takes one picture, then two. The familiar whir of the rollers fills the air, drowning out the television behind him, then the photographs spit out, one at a time. You writhe a little when his attention gets drawn to the pictures and his hand between your legs stall. He waits about thirty seconds for them to develop, then without even showing them to you, he growls and drops them into the sheets. His mouth suctions over your pussy again and you gasp. He sucks and flicks his tongue over your clit while his hand pumps steadily into you, curling his fingers, making you nearly scream if it isn't for how fast and hard you're breathing.
"Joel-" you gasp, "Joel, I'm - I'm gonna -"
You struggle to finish your sentence but it doesn't matter. He knows. Joel hums between your thighs and works faster, devouring your cunt and dragging your orgasm out of you. Your body tenses and you cry out his name, but he doesn't let up. Not until your legs clamp the sides of his head does he remove his fingers to drink down every drop of your release, then he finally lets his jaw relax.
You're seeing stars. You have to be covered in sweat and you probably look insane, with your hair and eyes all wild while you lay there, completely fucked out.
He must enjoy it, though, because next thing you know he's covering you with his body once again. His lips are on yours and all you can taste and smell is you, but you aren't repulsed. In fact, you find you really fucking like it. When it's on him, when your taste and scent is mixed with Joel's, it's intoxicating.
"Shoulda done that last time," he rasps. He leans back to sit on his knees and tugs off his shirt, letting it fall somewhere on your floor. You blink and try to admire his bare chest while he's kicking his boxers off, but it's hard to focus. Then, just as fast as he sat up, he's back on you once again. His breath skips when he glides the tip of his cock through your folds, then rests against your opening. You're still struggling to come back to earth, body lax and sated and so fucking warm underneath him. He groans brokenly into your neck when he presses inside, reveling in how easily you welcome his cock now that he already worked you open with his mouth and fingers.
You make a soft noise and circle your arms loosely around his neck. There's no need to go as slowly as last time. You're so fucking soaked, you're more than ready for him, but he still takes his time. He holds your hip steady with one hand as he feeds you his cock, inch by inch, parting your walls and sighing against your dewy skin.
"Shit," he groans. His teeth pinch your throat when he bottoms out and you gasp. "This what you want? Needed my cock that bad?"
"Yes," you whimper, "Christ, Joel - yes."
He drags himself out and plunges back inside you with a rough grunt. Your legs fall open wider, giving yourself up to him entirely.
His beard is scratchy and it tickles your skin, making you shiver when his mouth traces the edge of your jaw. He fucks you slow and deep, like he wants to make it last, like he wants you to remember. Your lips find his shoulder and you leave a path of open mouthed kisses across his tanned skin. And when your tongue darts out to taste him properly, he groans and rolls his hips deeper.
It's perfect and intense and it's everything you could ever want.
"Jesus, look at you," he says. But you look up at him, instead. He looks how you feel - needy, wrecked, and desperate. Then his eyes fall between your bodies, where his cock slides in and out of you, coated in your arousal, and you groan when you see what he sees.
Look at us, you want to say, but you bite the words back. It feels like it's too much. But you think it. How could you not, when you seem to fit together so perfectly?
With his voice smooth and soft as velvet, he says, "Dirty girl... thinkin' 'bout me fuckin' you like this with your daddy in the room."
Your cheeks burn and you try to swallow, but your throat is too dry. When you meet his gaze, he looks different. He's worked up and his eyes are pitch black. His hips start to pound into you faster.
Your throat tightens.
"I- fuck," you choke out when he brushes up against a particularly sensitive spot. You try again. "Y-you're the one who kissed me whe-"
Joel chuckles and shakes his head, dark curls falling loose across his forehead.
"I saw the way you were lookin' at me 'fore all that," he goads, then leans down to nip at your earlobe before adding, "When we were puttin' together the bed. Tell me what you were thinkin' 'bout."
You whine and pitch your head back into your pillow. You can already feel your hips ache from how fast and hard he's fucking into you now. It has your breath stuttering and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
When you take too long to respond, his mouth suctions over your breast. His teeth leave a sharp bite on your nipple and you yelp.
"Tell me," he says again. You shudder, breath too shallow and quick to answer, so you grab one of his arms and lift it above your head. You press his hand around the padded headboard and he gets it. The smirk he gives you is deadly when plants his other hand into the mattress for leverage.
Your legs wrap around his waist and he starts to slam into you. Each thrust knocks the air from your lungs. He pushes you further and further up the bed until the top of your head hits the headboard. Joel sees it and he drops to his elbow. The hand that was pushing into the mattress is now cupping the top of your head and you think you might implode from the way his arm curls protectively around you while the other is gripping your headboard so tight, you can see the tendons twitching in his wrist.
"Like this?" he grits out. You nod, mouth agape and brows furrowed. Tears spring to your eyes as you teeter on the edge. He sees them and kisses them away when they fall. Ultimately, it's the hours and hours of pent up frustration that have you coming so hard, your vision goes white. But it's the combination of how rough he's fucking you and how sweet he's holding and kissing you that has your cunt pulsing around his cock, dragging out your orgasm for what feels like an eternity.
"Fuck," he gasps. His fingers tighten around the crown of your head and you feel his bicep flex along the side of your face. "W-where? Where, baby?"
His voice sounds urgent but you still take a second to soak in the word baby before murmuring inside, just like before.
He doesn't hesitate. He comes a moment later, yanking on your headboard for support with a loud groan. You hear it rattle and you plant kisses on the underside of his jaw, hoping to melt away some of the tension being held there.
His hips flex forward erratically, each push paired with a heavy grunt until he finally stills. His hand drops from the headboard and his face tucks into the crook of your neck.
You feel his breath fanning across your sweat soaked skin and you close your eyes. There's no rush, this time. There's no risk. So you lay there and catch your breath with Joel's massive body pinning you into the mattress and heavy cock softening inside you.
"Goddamn," he murmurs in between light kisses to your collarbone. You hum and soothingly run your palms up and down his back with your eyes closed. He shivers when your nails graze his spine and he holds you a little tighter. You swear you could fall asleep, just like that.
Joel begrudgingly lifts himself up to slide out from between your legs. His eyes flicker with something dark when he sees his seed leaking out of your spent cunt, but he blinks it away and rolls onto his back with a tired groan.
"Just need a second and I'll get goin'," he assures you. His forearm is thrown over his closed eyes and you take the opportunity to study his broad chest and soft belly in the glow from your television. God, he's so handsome. How did you not see it before?
"Why don't you stay?" you ask, voice raspy and thick. He peeks at you in surprise and drops his arm to his side.
"Yeah?"
You remember his comment last time, about his house feeling lonely, and it pulls at your heart. "Yeah," you say, shifting onto your side and wrapping an arm around his middle. You nuzzle into his chest and he drapes an arm around your shoulders.
"Okay," he says softly. "But next time, we're figurin' out a way f'you to stay at mine. Want you wrapped up in my bed, feedin' you breakfast."
"Next time?" you repeat, unable to keep the eagerness from your voice. "What happened to just this once?"
The hand drawing aimless circles on your arm stills.
"It... I - uh -"
You lift your chin and shoot him a sly smirk.
He rolls his eyes but you see the corners of his mouth twitch.
"Just go to sleep," he mutters. He sounds annoyed but you know better.
You close your eyes with a smile and his hand resumes stroking your arm.
Deep down, you know what you're doing is so much more complicated than what you're willing to admit within your four walls. Maybe you'll figure it out, maybe you won't. But neither of you are willing to think about that tonight. Because tonight, away from familiar, judgmental eyes, you're just two people seeking comfort in each other.
And it's enough.
#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller the last of us#joel miller au#joel miller/reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character#tlou fic#joel tlou#dbf!joel x reader#dbf!joel smut#joel miller one shot
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which is fine, because love is love, and you're getting gay-married, so it would be kind of ironic if love was only sometimes love.
except The King Of Demons (his is Edmund) is always late, to everything, always. which is fair, because time doesn't work in hell, and it's not like he can just catch a bus. except that you specifically asked him not to do this, didn't you, because he's always doing things like this.
He splays out his hands, the light catching on long, ivory claw tips. god, doesn't he know not to wear white to a wedding?
so many people are screaming right now.
it's not that he's the golden child. you guys had normal parents, middle-class. your mom was kind of an "almond mom," according to your fiancée, who pursed their lips when they found out about how your mom used to wrinkle her nose any time you asked for an extra snack in your lunchbox.
you close your eyes for a moment. think of your beautiful almost-spouse. ashe. their name like a bloom inside you. how the dress looks on ashe's body, their shy little smile. how they'd walked down the aisle, and you'd both been half-laughing, half-crying. your hands had trembled when you saw them. like the whole world was pouring down your throat, golden. like you were catching a moment and casting it in amber.
ashe'd been the one to help you when your parents were pushing for you to invite edmund. god, the amount of fights you'd gotten in with your parents - the same six sentiments, over and over again.
you'd been sitting on your bed, biting your lip, your fingers hovering over the little button send. ashe'd nuzzled your neck. you used to be close, and i think that's important. but you know your relationship to him the most. i'm willing to make the effort, and i love you no matter what you choose, they'd said. we don't have to if you don't want to, though, no matter what your parents say about him.
you'd thrown yourself down, supine, arm over the eyes. he's just... we are just.... you tried to phrase that-which-is-love-and-rage.
you're the normal twin. your "big thing" was only "being a lesbian." in high school, edmund started being able to make birds die by looking at them. you came home, trying to tell your parents i kissed a girl. i think i'm - and they just kind of nodded at you. edmund was eating the bible in front of them, like a goat.
on the bed, you'd held your hands out vaguely to ashe. edmund is a just always a lot.
ashe had shrugged. don't invite him then. and it was that - that they were okay with either of your decisions - that is why he even got an invite, in the end.
and now here he is, like how you wanted (?), and your hands are red, clenched hard around your bouquet. the officiant is crying. some people are on their knees, praying. some are trying to touch your brother, like he could impart a blessing.
"i made it!" he's triumphant. "i know i'm late, i'm sorry, there was - do you know anything about right-wing politicians?"
"i'm going to fucking kill him," you say, although you're not actually sure who you're talking to, or if he can be killed.
ashe is blinking, their face in a tiny oh of surprise. you take their hand, drop their hand, take their hand again. they blink at your brother. their voice is low but steady. "there's, um. is there a dark halo around him?"
you duck your head to meet their eyes. "fuck, ashe. i'm sorry. he wasn't supposed to -"
"did i miss it?" Edmund is swinging his head around far-too-wide. his 2 sets of horns leave little red mist any time they scour through the air. "I didn't miss the kiss, right?"
the town clerk is in the audience, and she's frowning. you send her an apologetic look. she shakes her head. "as we've discussed," she manages to throw her gentle voice over the din, "the wedding isn't official if someone objects. that is the legal statute. which people tend to be understanding of." she sends a dirty look to edmund, and that makes you love her. she seems completely calm, which makes sense, because she works in the town hall, and this probably isn't even her first demon-showing-up-at-a-wedding.
he somehow hears her, holds his hands up. "i'm not objecting!" the back of the event hall catches on fire. of-fucking-course. "i'm not - don't mind me, uh, please continue." edmund sends a look to the back-of-the-room fire and it whimpers and gutters out. he flashes you a winning smile, and then puts his hand to his king's-garb chest and mouths sorry! and then cartwheels his glittering talons to say go ahead.
"i think i'm going to throw up." the officiant's voice is barely a whisper.
you watch in horror as edmund tries to awkwardly slide into a waiting line of chairs. the sound of begging follows him, people on their knees at hell's king. he pats a few of them on the head, holding up his finger in a sheepish shh! while his touch leaves a bleeding rune on their skin. his hooves click, and his footprints leave ruby-bright fireroses in his wake.
he tries to sit down, but the wooden chairs are made for people and not the lord king of demons, so he has to span his furred hindquarters over two seats. he smiles again, offers you a little wave.
the room is dead silent, minus the weeping. you look back to ashe. you ruined this. you shouldn't have invited him. you spent so much money on this event, and ashe looks so fucking handsome, and you haven't even gotten to kiss them. to make it official.
ashe looks up at you, manages a little smile. "could be worse?"
you feel yourself start to smile too, but then edmund's chairs give out, and he falls directly on the floor, and with his startled yelp, everything around him bursts into the cold whip-crease of hellflame, disintegrating everything that isn't-a-person, including the flowers and the decorations and the cake and the tables. everything you saved for months to be able to afford. the venue that you both agonized over choosing. you picked this place because it was significant to both of you and was equidistant from both your parents and had a deal with the local hotel for people coming out of town. two years of planning, literally burning down around your ears.
edmund manages to stop the fire pretty much immediately, but it's too late. the officiant faints clear away. the town clerk gives you a sympathetic look and mouths see you soon and steps neatly out of the room, taking ashe's parents with her, chatting gently. an arched flower frame collapses into dust with a loud whoomp. pretty much nobody is left in the building, and you're standing at the top of the steps, at the fucking hour of your marriage, and there is nothing left but blue-cold embers, the lights blown out in favor of the eerie hellfire glow.
you sit down, hard. after a few seconds, you feel ashe sit down next to you. you put your head between your knees so you don't puke with rage, which would be somehow more humiliating than everything else happening at the moment.
"okay, it's definitely too soon," they whisper in your ear, "but i have to admit there is something that's going to be so funny later about my name being ashe and my wedding going up in flames." they wrap their hand in yours. "i can't believe we worried about candles. we should have just gone with them instead of worrying about safety. are you okay?"
you send them a look. "am i - am i okay? this absolute bitch -" you gesture with your free hand out to where edmund is trying to piece together the cinders of his chair, "ruined my fucking wedding."
your mom is standing awkwardly in what used to be the "family" row of chairs. your father is absent, of course. she makes a noise at you. "don't call your brother a bitch."
"oh my fucking god." you have to put your head between your knees again, fighting that stupid fucking rage-puke urge. your blood pressure has obviously reached "skyrocket".
"he's here, isn't he? you're not being particularly grateful," your mother says, because of course she does.
"oh my god! ohmygod. ohmygod." you feel yourself hyperventilating, and then you start laughing, and you hate the hyena hysteria of it, the way it pitches dangerously close to a sob. "this is just - this is just like you! this is the fucking - you blow out the candles on the birthday cake! you curse the kids i'm trying to babysit! you get straight-A's on every test without studying, and get all the friends, and everyone is obsessed with you! and then when i graduate from art school, do i fucking get a party? nope! but hey, let's throw edmund a party for his 300,000th tortured soul! and his 300,001st! and fucking everything else. and fuck me, i guess! edmund gets hurt on the playground, let's burn down the playground. i got fucking bullied, and our parents don't even notice. i am fucking struggling, but we need to pay attention to edmund. he gets fucking everything. while we're at it, why don't we let him fucking ruin my wedding!"
you are dimly aware of ashe wrapping one arm around you and then the other, and then you are sobbing into their shoulder.
"oh, come on. stop with the hysterics," your mother chides you. "you had a perfectly fine childhood. all kids fight. you should have gotten the ceremony done faster. and you know i didn't approve of you spending all this money when you have student loans to -"
"respectfully," ashe's voice is cold and cutting while they rub circles on your shaking back, "and i know you're about to be my mother-in-law, but -" you hear them force a smile, "maybe you could choose this moment to leave your daughter the fuck alone?"
you are so fucking in love with ashe at that moment that it stops your weeping like you got hit by a truck. you look up at them, and want to go back to crying, just overwhelmed by the sheer fucking amount you care about them, but then you look over at your mother, and her shocked expression, and you burst out laughing.
your mother makes a few almost fish-like motions with her mouth, and then turns on her heel, stomping over cinders on her way out. and then it is just you and ashe and edmund and how you are half-crying half-laughing quietly to yourself, like a tap that won't stop dripping.
edmund has put the chair down. he is staring at his hands. he is at least 500 pounds and over 7 feet tall (he doesn't use metric, he's the devil). and somehow, right now, he just looks... small. crestfallen.
"yeah, i mean." his voice cracks. there's no boom of thunder or hellhound echo. he sounds like he did as a kid, before the strange powers and the levitating and the souls of the damned. he sounds like he did the night he accidentally melted most of the pieces in your first glass art show. he sounds - like your brother. he puts the heel of his palm against his eye. "i ruined my sister's wedding."
ashe offers him a little half-grin. "i do just want to say i love the aesthetic, by the way. but you did very much ruin my wedding too."
he points at them, finger-guns. "....ruined their wedding too." something in the attempt at humor - how his voice breaks on the words, how lonely he sounds. it makes you have to close your eyes against the sound. "....you seem cool," he says. "it's... it was nice to meet you."
you hear him come over, his hooves clacking slowly on the floor. when you open your eyes, he's sitting closer to you.
he opens his hand. inside are two little ceramic figures. wedding cake toppers. "i... i made them for you two. i figured i would try - how you make art, without magic. i... i took a class, and i made - i made them." he looks down at the little white-dressed people in his wide, calloused palm. "it's... i wanted to be ... good. i..." he looks at you, and then at ashe. "i tried, you know?"
ashe reaches up, lets him roll the figures into their palm.
he stands up. folds his hands in front of himself. "i don't. know how to be good. i know it doesn't come naturally to you, either. i saw you... choose. to be kind. you could have treated me different, too. like everybody? i was weird, and everyone knew. if you'd been ... mean? it would have been okay. but you." he shrugs. "one time you tried to kill me in the bathroom."
you don't know why you're crying. you look up at him through the cracks between your fingers. "twice," you croak. "but the second time i had a knife." you tuck your hair behind your ears. "but that was only after you pushed me down the stairs at grandma's and i broke my leg before a dance performance. you fuckin' deserved that one."
"i pushed you because you were being a wretched bitch."
"hey now," ashe says, a little edge to their voice, "that's my wife."
you squeeze their hand. "no, he's right. i had deleted his pokemon gold save file right before the elite four."
ashe drops your hand like you scalded them, showing the only horror you've seen this whole time. "you - girl, what the fuck?"
you shrug a little. "i was being a wretched bitch. and he did break my leg about it."
edmund shifts a little. "i just - you are...." his voice dies.
in your family, you don't say i love you. in your family, you don't touch each other or show affection. in your family, you just show up for each other, quietly. neither of you knows how to speak or process what needs to be said. you can see that lacking flashing over his face, literally playing out in shades of crimson. you get that weird twin-sense of something unsaid.
ashe sets the little ceramic people to the side. "she treated you like a person when everyone else treated you like a prophet."
you cut your eyes to them, and then edmund, who gives you one very short, sharp nod. "i, uh. i can. never try." he clears his throat. "i can never try hard enough. for that. i can - what you gave me. by. doing that. by ... just. i made. one thousand. wedding toppers. so it could be perfect. because - i ... it needed to be perfect." he appears to be dying of embarrassment, which does imply he might be capable of dying. oh good. in case i need to try to kill him a third time.
the thought makes a weird, wet laugh bubble out of you. "remember that one time i failed my math test and you set mr. fog's car on fire about it?"
edmund looks shyly at you, and a very small grin spreads across his face. not the dark lord - just a 30-something year old man who has just upset his one-and-only twin.
"you're throwing us the most ostentatious, egregiously expensive wedding," you tell him. "above land."
he frowns a little. "okay, but i'm not doing anything in miami. the vibes there give me the heebie jeebies."
ashe holds up their hand. "and you'll be repaying the deposit on literally everything. oh, and replacing the cake."
you kiss their cheek and then point to him. "and you'll be on time for it."
he shrugs a little. "okay, i literally can't perform miracles, so like. set the bar lower. i can't promise i'll-"
you look down at your feet. "i'd like you to be my man of honor this time. like. by my side. so. you can't be late this time. okay? we do it the right way. finally."
"huh," ashe says, looking between the two of you. "you guys have the same smile."
edmund's grin becomes a little wider, a little easier. he raises an eyebrow at them. "okay, i get that you're cool, but you're like, very cool about this whole thing."
ashe lifts a shoulder. "used to work for the monster under the bed."
"oh shit, simon? fuck." he points to them. "remind me not to mess around with you."
you want to tell edmund i love you and i missed you, but you can't. instead, you pick up the figurines. they're not perfect, but you can tell hours of his life went into each. his hands are so big - it must have taken him so much work to make these things so small. you picture him with his back bent over a workbench, trying to get a face into a tiny clay figure. the ceramic version of you is smiling. he's given you little fangs and a unibrow. he gave ashe a tiny yellow crown. you make the two figures kiss.
snow is falling indoors, little icicles of hellfire. ashe reaches out and take edmund's hand, and then, very awkwardly, he reaches out and takes yours too.
for a moment, it's just the three of you, and the beautiful quiet of the room.
You’re standing at the altar, about to get married to your beautiful fiancée. When suddenly the king of demons bursts through the door of the room, which naturally causes panic. You tried to warn everyone that inviting your sibling to the wedding would mean trouble, but they kept insisting.
#SO long.#but also about like. siblings.#in this is one of the only times we learn the writer is in fact a middle child#i keep my family out of my writing which means i almost never write about sibling dynamics#but it's out of respect for their privacy#so gettin to play with the dynamics of siblings is fun when it's clearly not about us :)#but im very lucky to say im close with both of them!!#also somewhat been on both sides of this - being both like the Good Kid that is Unnoticed#and also the Complete Mess that fucks things up for their sibling without meaning it#this author has been permanently fucked up by that one scene in lilo & stitch#some of the real ones will identify ashe as being one of the only characters i've ever repeated#in the inkskinned universe#ps: i very carefully called it an event space and not a church :) they are not getting married in a church!!#1. they're getting gay married. so they might not even be able to get married in a church. & 2.#she really did want him to come. she chose a place he could come. he was just late and accidentally ruined it#(based on what my anxiety thinks will happen if i am late to events. im like. oh it would ruin everything and burn the place down.#better be safe and be there 3 hours early and then wait in my car for an hour and a half)#ps ps ps this is based off my relationship with my siblings so some of it is just like. sibling sense . i cannot explain#but the reason he brings up the fact she tried to kill him 2x as evidence she treated him the same is like -#she tried to kill him bc he is her brother and u try to kill your siblings sometimes#she was on that cain instinct.#but usually people respond like how we see in the story - screaming and worship and yes he absolutely has ppl tryna kill him#to like ''save the world'' when he's really just there to like do a job. HE didn't invent hell. he just runs it#and like i fully believe even before he had his powers he had the Sibling Instinct of like - she's not killing you bc of what you are#(the devil) she's tryna kill you bc of what you are to HER (her brother) . and i think that . really mattered to him#tbh low key became obsessed with this concept and was like. it would be such a good short-run tv show . fleabag style#bc i would write the demon king to be like. what it feels like to be neurodivergent. that no matter what you do . it STILL feels like you'r#never able to hide how inhuman you are. that you're always going to be alien to these people.#and just have the entire first season start here and be about him trying to throw a wedding for his twin sister#second episode is him in a farmer's market trying to find a good florist for it . just picture the dialogue with me. please.
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HELLO HELOO i am. alive. ermm. ok so long story short i am very very tired and unable to do like. anything. :P oof.
here's a toby drawing i completely forgot??? that i did??? like months ago??? found it in my files while looking for any drawings I've actually finished recently and im pretty happy with it so I'm posting it here :''3
honestly i just haven't been happy with anything i've been drawing so only stuff i've done are studies because i want to improve but idk. i feel really self critical. yk how it is being an artist, never feeling happy with your skill level :p i'm working on it though, got pretty into traditional painting for a change? idk i'm trying new stuff to find inspiration. hopefully more art SOON (for sure this time) (idk if i can promise that)
okok health update:
been very very stressed out, basically. got bad again, getting better again?¿? got more help though, so i should be getting therapy maaaybe and help getting back into school, not sure, trying to make something work out. not looking at my phone has been helping
in other news; fall is awesome, love halloween !! birthday is coming up aswell, which is pretty cool 👍👍👍 been hanging out with friends again, which is very nice too. uuuhhhhh the silent hill 2 remake finally came out!!! and it's actually good!!! like really good!!! life has meaning again!!!!
TLDR: I am so very tired. but it will get better, for sure !! just need more time? maybe? in any case, i will be back to post more whenever i am able to. thank you for enjoying my art, it does mean the world to me.
#creepypasta#creepypasta fanart#creepypasta art#ticci toby#ticci toby creepypasta#creepypasta ticci toby#toby rogers#drink some water fellas#thank you for enjoying my silly little drawings it makes me so very happy. really hope i can stop being a dumb dumb idiot and make more
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Lust is in the Air



Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex
A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes
Read it on ao3
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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.
"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"
"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.
"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.
"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.
"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.
"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.
"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.
Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.
"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.
"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."
After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.
"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.
"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.
On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.
"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.
"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.
"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.
"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.
"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.
"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.
"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.
"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."
Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.
As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.
"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.
"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.
"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.
"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.
You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.
"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.
"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'
"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.
"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.
"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.
"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.
"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.
"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.
Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.
"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.
"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.
You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.
"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.
"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.
"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.
"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.
"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."
Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.
"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.
"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.
"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.
"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."
"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.
"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.
"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.
"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."
"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"
"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.
"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.
"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.
"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.
"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."
"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.
"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.
"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.
"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.
"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.
"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.
"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.
"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.
"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.
"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.
"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.
"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.
And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.
"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.
"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.
"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.
"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.
"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.
"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.
"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.
"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.
Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.
As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.
"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."
It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.
"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.
"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.
"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.
Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.
"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.
"You want to see me naked?" he teases.
"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.
"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.
"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.
And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.
"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.
"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"
Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.
"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.
"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.
Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'
Be back soon, you write back.
"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.
"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.
"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.
"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."
You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?
"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.
"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.
"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.
As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.
Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.
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Merry!Ex-mas.

18+ MDNI
22.k words synopsis: you get a notification about plane tickets you purchased about a trip you were excited for, only reason you're not excited at the remainder, is because you had planned the trip with your now ex. At the time you never thought you'd be spending December broken up. So, it felt like a great idea. not so much now. ex!jk x ex!femreader (fem anatomy.) exes to lovers use of 'yn' warnings: angst, fluff, smut: long-distance relationship, exes, second chance, miscommunication, b*tches is awkward, tension, one bed, forced proximity, Jungkook isn't crazy rich but he's got good money, i think he's an accountant, jk has that short ceo hair cut. reader has communication problem, jungkook's freaking green sweater needs it's own fanfic!, think are!you!sure jungkook. protective!jk, there's a creep who approaches reader as jungkook is off skiing, and whilst she's in the sauna(nothing bad happens.), sweet!wants!to!try!jk, jk has issues of not communicating too. they just can't seem to talk. avoiding stuff. teasing. touchy!jk, secret glances. jealousy, reader is very jealous,they're lying to themsleves, jungkook loves to take pictures especially of reader. hot tub jungkook who's looking up at you like you're a goddes. very needy kissing, boob sucking, dirty talking, oral(f!receiving.), handjob, cowgirl, protected!penetration, aftercare. hand kissing. [i don't know what else i need to add, let me know] as per usual, it was edited but if there are any errors, forgive me. A/N: this fic is honestly cause of that Jungkook green sweater I've never travelled to please don't come at me if anything is wrong. I very much world built some things. I've given written from top to bottom so don't except a part 2, unless maybe drabble requests. I wrote this in one week and i'm so proud i was able to write 22k words, in that time. though i was supposed to go up on the 25th[shhhhhh] A/N: i'm still learning how to write smut. so if you think the smut is cringe please don't tell me :) i don't wanna know. unless you want to help me improve it, and you do it kindly, i'd appreciate. likes, reblog, and all positive asks and comments are always appreciated. i hope you're happy with this one. [read under the cut]
You get the notification as you're scrolling through your phone. A remainder of sorts that you had been forgetting something. Cause you had been.
It loomed over you all week. The lingering feeling of remembering what you can’t. You hated it. But now that you know it’s source you couldn’t feel any worse.
Being the recipient of the message, you’re burdened with having to translate the message. Why do you have to do this? Broken up, having to text him feels like opening a can of worms. But the tickets are non-refundable, and it would be unfair for you to not inform him. You did both pay for them, Jungkook of course paying more because he was just too stubborn to split. he'd actually wanted to pay for the full thing but you were at odds with the idea. he settled eventually.
So, it would be unfair to not tell him. Right? Yes. But you don’t want to believe it.
Even if how the hell are you going to remind your ex about the holiday trip you planned thinking you’d be together for; but in turn would celebrate separately. Before the notification of the trip.
To add on, now you have to open your chat. An action you dread to do; for your emotional health.
What are you actually going to say? You think, finger hovering over the keyboard. Something that won’t make you sound like you’ve missed him, were thinking about him or even thinking about going on this trip with him. All which you’ve been doing. You’ve succumb to the thoughts, only because you two broke up in October, still relatively early to just forget a 3-year relationship with someone you thought you’d marry.
Sigh.
You still haven’t answered the question of how you’re even gonna bring it up. Will he even answer?
“shibal” jimin laughs into the speaker, not helping you one bit. “you two are ridiculous.”
You roll your eyes still waiting and hoping he’ll say something sensible. It’s all in vain. “How the hell do you book a trip and break up just before. You couldn’t wait?” He laughs and you just know he’s sat at his computer playing games, from his loud and unfocused speech.
“We didn’t freaking know we’d breakup.” You justify. “Plus, cause of the breakup we forgot. I forgot.” Your voice loses its strength at the end of the sentence, your mind slipping into a deep thought.
You haven’t been able to remember anything of relevance since that day. Maybe only how to breath and live but you’d say your body takes full credit for that.
“Hmm.” is all he says to you before screaming obscenities to someone in his game.
“Jimin are you gonna be of any help or wh-”
“You know what you should do?”
You want to believe his following statement will be of use, but you can never be certain.
“Just send it” he groans from what you assume is an attack on him. Your brow raises. “Send him a screenshot of the notification. If he doesn’t respond go on it on your own.”
“Or take me with you” he whispers. If it came to it, would you even choose jimin to go with? Probably. He’d help make it fun.
You sigh, still in the darkest of analysis. It’s your best option what else could you say. So, you say your goodbye to jimin who is quick to go off to his game, without a second thought. Rude. Talking to him whilst he’s on his game is setting yourself up.
Back to having a staring contest with your phone. And after a long while of panic, thump fidgeting and dry eyes, you click on his contact (yes you still have it.) and just send the screenshot.
As you wait to make sure the picture is sent you catch a glimpse of the last text from your chat. You were avoiding slipping up and seeing it, but your eyes couldn’t be helped.
Jungkook was the last to text.
Kookie<3: I miss you call me back.
Seeing the text makes your stomach churn. Makes your head spin with all the memories and emotions returning. You don’t want to linger on it. You’re quick to just sending the screenshot like jimin said, you only hope he doesn’t ask too many questions. If he does respond. The little thought in your head surfaces. What if he wants nothing to do with you. What if you’re bothering him? You shouldn’t have sent that text. But it’s too late now.
You’re well aware his message was sent before you had broken up. The only reason you hadn’t replied was because you couldn’t. On the same day you’d called him back and told him how you didn’t think you’d be able to do it anymore.
“Mm?” he hums confused. You can hear it in his voice and it only makes you even more nervous to repeat.
“This long-distance thing isn’t working for us jungkook.” You bite you lower lip hoping to hide some of your emotions that threaten to ruin your speech. Your fingers fidget in the silence waiting for his response. But it never comes and for a moment you think he’s cut the call and you’ve been talking to yourself. That’s when he sighs, showing you, he’s been listening but too shocked to speak.
You calling his full name, no nickname, strains at his heart. “Are you serious?” it’s calm, sad even. Of course he’s sad, you’re breaking up with him. Sad isn’t even strong enough to describe what he’s feeling. Shock is just amongst them, maybe even a little anger. You’ve been going through a challenging period because of the difference in cities. But he never thought it’d come to this. Was it that bad?
“Yeah.” It’s weak defeated. You are, your whole relationship is.
Jungkook is awfully silent, he’s not sure why either. “Is there anything I can do?” he’s aware of the only solution available. But it’s not possible. Neither of your work will allow the other to move.
You shake your head like he can see it. but he doesn’t need to see what your silence has already said.
After not much thought cause he’s not able to, he speaks. “Is this what you want?” his question only serves to add to your confusion.
“You know it’s not but- “you try to speak but the lump in your throat chokes you.
It hurts him that this is happening over a call. Wishes he could’ve spoken about it in person, cause there’s more to it.
More that you haven’t spoken about. Never have, and doubt you ever will or want to.
All this just makes the idea of this trip even more worrying. That’s if he’ll want to go or even respond. You never got to know what he thought but you assume he has some sort of resentment for the way you ended things. You would too. That’s one of the things you feel guilty for.
You’ll say the way things ended was not ideal, and honestly it never made you feel good as you thought it would. It made you feel worse actually. But at least now you don’t argue because you don’t talk. Who are you kidding, you miss the arguments, something to remind he was there.
Guilt hovers but, you console yourself by saying that he probably wanted it too if he didn’t try to fight for it. Which is unfair, but what else can you tell yourself as an excuse.
Your focus is now on your screen. You’re about to exit the chat, but then those familiar popups of bubbles appear. Already?
The bubbles disappear and appear, which only serves to grow your anxiety. Is he about to rebuke you for texting him. Gosh, what the hell would you say after that? He’s about to cuss you out. Suddenly your room feels too small to hold you and what you’re feeling.
But what pops up is even more anxiety inducing.
Kookie<3: I’m in town. We should meet and talk tomorrow.
Why does he sound so professional? Why do you care. Oh- your mind, it’s spinning.
He’s in town, when? Why didn’t he tell you. This would be the first time you see him in a year since he moved. And he couldn’t even just tell you he was in town. The reason to him being here is not unknown to you. It’s the Christmas season and his parents do live in the same city as you. And just like you they were not happy about they’re son moving so far away. But nothing was stopping jungkook. Nothing.
You’re probably not important to him anymore but, couldn’t he have just said, hi. I’m in town. How long has he even been here for? You never thought he’d return to the city even for the holidays.
You shake the thoughts out of your head. You can’t be over thinking this.
We?......meet?.....talk?.....TOMORROW!

Tomorrow couldn’t come any faster (not that you were excited for it.). It’s almost as though it wants you and jungkook to meet.
You both agreed to meet at one of the small restaurants near your place. One you two frequented together, so it holds so much for you. Which only made you more anxious on your way.
When you walked in your eyes unconsciously moved to the table you and jungkook loved to seat at. It was good distance from the kitchen so your food could reach you quicker, and far from others so that jungkook could lean in and say the nastiest thing on earth. It always made you blush even though you’d swat at him. You spot jungkook sat where he usually sat. Coat taken off and hanged on his chair.
“Hey.” You choke out smiling politely as you reach the table and take off your coat, the inside of the restaurant too warm to be comfortable with it on.
You take a sit and allow your body to get accustomed to the environment. And jungkook.
He’s quick to respond to your greeting just as awkward.
When you’re settled you finally get a chance to see just how much he’s changed in a year. The warm light from the ceiling softens his features which would normally be sharp in the dim lights of your bedroom. His hair is cut short. Last time you saw him it was neck length, but now it’s significantly short. Makes him look professional, mature. You like it, really like it. you wish you could just reach over and touch it, it’d probably be just as soft as you remember it and smell like lavender. You notice how he has it styled and gelled back so you doubt he’d be happy with you running your hands in it.
Jungkook spent an ungodly amount of time trying to get it to look like this, which he doesn’t think is perfect enough, but he was running out of time. Something about this meeting had him wanting to go out. He just hopes you like it. he remembers you last saw it when it was longer. It was a big cut, but after your breakup, he felt like giving up the length, considering your hands loved to live in his hair.
You sit hand in lap waiting for your mouth to catch up with how fast your brain is working. Though if you did speak what your brain was thinking, you’d embarrass yourself.
“We should order first.” He says rolling up the sleeves of his navy-blue denim shirt. The action reminding of the inks on his arm. A detail that adds to how attractive he is already. You’re really hating yourself for your thoughts. In your defence you haven’t seen him in the flesh for a year. “What do you wanna get?” he picks up his menu and you do too, stuttering in your movement. He seems calmer than you right now.
But the only thing is that he’s shitting himself inside. when he was sat before you came, his heart dropped every time he heard the door bells chime. Every time he turned it wasn’t you. Only increasing his nervousness. Maybe he was a little to forward with his message. You haven’t seen each other in a while and it’d probably be overwhelming, especially with a certain elephant in the room. He would’ve definitely understood if you didn’t want to show. On the chime of the door that followed his thoughts, he didn’t turn, only for it to be you. In your full glory, making him fidget with his phone more. Which he put aside immediately you sat down.
Clearing your throat you speak, “something soup-y. Today’s a little cold.” And you don’t feel like throwing up what you eat.
Jungkook agrees and his red nose is evidence of that. Cute, you think.
After your orders are taken you turn back to silence. What could you probably say right now? You can feel the distance between you emotionally. And you hate how this is how you are after not seeing each other for a year. Before breaking up you thought of the many ways, you’d hug him once you got to see him. You were definitely delusional over how serious your distance was. Really wanting to believe it wouldn’t be a problem; until it became one, and you just couldn’t do it anymore.
You don’t know how to behave right now.
“So, when did you get back?” you settle on a soft and casual tone.
“Just yesterday.” He speaks sounding a little hesitant. After not knowing where to look you decide to just look at one thing. The table.
After beats of silence, you continue. Can your food come any faster? “you’re staying with your parents?”
“Yeah.”
You lived together, in your used to be shared apartment before he decided to move. So, his only option was to live with his parents for the mean time. He assumed you wouldn’t want or even let him live with you. And it would be fair, you aren’t together anymore.
“I’m Sure they were shocked to see how much you’ve change.” Cause you are. You haven’t seen his parents in the same time that he hasn’t seen them.
“It was a surprise drop in so I’m sure they were” he says with weak chuckle. He bites into his lip before he’s looking at you again, but you don’t stare at him. It’s only when you realize his stare that you finally face him. “How have you been? You look well.” He’s dreading himself right now for not being able to speak to someone who has been, for 3 years, the only person he could speak to.
You do look good, and he can’t take his mind off it. the camera has not been doing you justice. Your skin looks brighter and you generally are just glowing. Gosh he missed looking at you. The way small dainty jewellery serves to compliment your outfit. Your hair done in a way you like, and he loves.
“I try.” You smile. Every chance you get you take a glace at his lip piercing. You’d forgotten just how it made him even the more--. “You look well too. How’s the job going?”
He sucks in a breath, showing visible stress at the thought of his job. “it’s going okay. Easiest way to put it.” he chuckles, awkwardly. You smile, awkwardly too. “I missed it here though, so much stuff I left behind.”
You just hum, nodding. Avoiding how his eyes glancing over you, just for a second as he was looking for where to keep his gaze whilst speaking.
“But I’m sure you’re having fun that side.” That side. He can hear the strength you put on the words. Instead of fiddling on your lap you decide to fold your arms on your chest. Finding it appropriate for the feelings that are sneaking in.
“You can say that, but there’s just something that feels empty y’know.” You do know, but you both choose to leave the conversation implicit.
And right on time, your food arrives saving you from saying anything. What the heck would you say when you can’t even think.
You two are soon digging into your food. Jungkook in his kimchi jjigae and you in yours.
“I missed this- mmm.” He hums making that little angry face he makes when he likes food. You laugh, a little to loud at that causing him to look up at you. You drop your smile.
“Mrs Kim always asks me about you when I come here.” 6 slices of chopped spring onion garnish you haven’t eaten, yet.
He leans back in his chair, unintentionally watching you eat.
He turns his head towards the kitchen where the lady in question usually spends her time. “Where is she anyways?” he’s back to digging into his food. the steam from the food warming his cold nose.
“she’s visiting sung Hoon in the US.” You inform him, taking in how relaxed you’ve become.
He nods at the info, “Ahh- she finally got to got to the US?” he smiles. He remembers how she would come to the table; she’d complain that her son doesn’t want her to visit, which was not the case. But being the dramatic lady she is, she would think that. “ ’m sure she was so excited.”
“no one could hear the end of it.”
He chuckles and you find yourself laughing too. But as much as you’re seemingly getting comfortable (though not wholly.) silence finds a way to wrap it’s long, cold and slimy finger around you two.
After you’re done eating your meals in silence, jungkook thinks it’s time to discuss the reason you’re even meeting. Cause you have nothing more to talk about.
“what’s the plan for the trip?” he shifts in his seat. “Assuming you’d want to go.” He doubts.
You take a deep breath before speaking, looking over at the whole scene of the restaurant. “I don’t know, we’d leave on Thursday. Assuming you’d want to go too.” You would want to go, that’s why you booked the trip. It’s only your situation that makes it awkward.
“Do you?” his question comes out fast and sudden and he regrets how quick it came out.
“Mm?” you mutter like you couldn’t hear what he said.
He clarifies choosing to speak more calmly and composed. “Do you want to go?”
The question takes you aback as though you hadn’t been asking yourself the same thing.
Reaching to play with the little gem on your necklace you stutter out. “I-I mean- yeah we spent money on it.” you shrug your shoulders as if you’re unconsciously saying otherwise, but really, you’re just trying to keep your statement open. In case he doesn’t want to go, and you’re left embarrassed with an extra ticket.
Jungkook instead takes your action as you probably not wanting to go. “I get it if you don’t. It’s a weird situation.” His hands move to touching his hair.
You trying to jump in but end up speaking a little too fast. “No, I do. Plus, I hate wasting money.” You do hate wasting money, truly. And it is just that and the fact that you would love a trip right now, to de-stress.
“But do you want to go with me?” that churning feeling in your stomach is returning, and you’ve just eaten which makes it all the much better.
Biting down on your lip and releasing it you say, “I mean I wouldn’t want to go on my own.” You hate how you feel your throat choking up. “Who else would I go with?” you awkwardly joke. There are some people you’d go with. But you planned this trip with jungkook and he paid the much for the tickets. So, it’s only fair to go with him. If he wants to.
He skips your question, not in bad taste. it’d be weird for you to go on a trip you planned with him with someone else. Maybe he did think of it, that maybe you’d enjoy it more if you weren’t with him. But then he thought it through. Shit doesn’t have to be awkward unless you both make it. so, you can enjoy this trip if you just agree to enjoy it. “I don’t mind going with you, but I don’t want you to feel forced to have me there.”
“I have no problem with you, jungkook.” You saying his name even though it’s not the pet name he enjoys feels like a warm touch to him. “I just want to know if you wanna go.” You find it in you to ask.
“I don’t mind it at all.” He says, relieving you of your fears.
He sighs. After he silence speaks. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. I was so excited for it too.” he reminiscing on the day. It was such a good idea. Is a good idea, if you just agree to enjoy it.
“So? It’s settled right?“ You sit up grabbing your stuff and preparing to leave. Jungkook’s smile falls realizing that the moment is ending. But he will see you soon still.
“Yeah.” He prepares to leave too.
“We leave Thursday, I guess. We’ll stay in touch.”
And that’s it, your conversation ends with you managing to avoid the larger topic at hand. It’s like a game.

You throw your clothes in haphazardly. You’re in a panic, which is not necessary cause you have enough time, the whole day to be precise. Your flight’s tomorrow. But the whole airport thing has always found a way to make you panic.
You grab some essentials, but in frustration. Maybe you just want to get it over with. The packing, not the trip. Honestly it feels like it’s already started. Is this how you’re going to be.
As you search through your closet you land on a sweater, one you remember too well. It’s green colour and fluffy soft texture makes it the warmest thing you own. A very memorable sweater, for the warmth it brought you and its origin. You can still smell him on it. You dread packing it and resort to shoving it further in your closet. You’ll think about it.
You stare at your zipped up suitcase for a bit before your eyes gloss over to your phone that buzzes on your bed. For a split second you wonder if it’s jungkook. Could he have changed his mind. you sigh relived when you see it’s just jimin.
Who chooses to say nothing of value and just tease you. “Honestly why do I tell him these things.” You throw your phone on your bed.
Jungkook stands over his already packed suitcase. He just has to zip it closed and seal this trip. He sighs rubbing his lower lip. Before you two broke up he had so much planned for this trip. So much he wanted to say and do. But it's different now and it’d be weird and wrong to say those things. Not before talking of course.
Is he looking forward to this trip? Yes-wait- maybe. The trip in itself is fine, a great and good idea and opportunity to enjoy a holiday and relax. But your presence entails something more something he has to deal with (in a responsible and good way) and that he's been running away from.
"You're excited huh?" his mother smiles leaning against his door frame, watching. He's not sure what about his facial expression, body language or general demeanour would make her think that he's excited. It’s not like he’s dreading or regretting it. it’s more like excitement is the last thing he’s feeling cause of all he’s thinking of.
He doesn't say anything before she's speaking again.
"You need this trip. you've been so busy." He has. Too much at that. So much that he forgot you two had even broken up and was about to go to your place first when he arrived. He’d been so excited to surprise you, then it dawned on him. His tires were quick to turning. His thoughts are cut short by his mother. "it'll help you spend more time with yn."
"I guess." he replies unenthusiastically. Though it’s the same idea they’re both thinking of it in a different context. Something that his mother doesn’t know yet.
He doesn't stare at where she stands only at his suitcase analysing what he's packed and what the heck is actually going on. "Plus, it would be a perfect place to propose." She enthuses, joyous at the thought. He seems to have slightly forgotten about that detail too.
When you were planning the trip, he made a plan to propose to you on it. It honestly is the perfect place to and he felt like it was the right time. Of course, you'd be arguing but it wasn't something that was holding back your relationship. Plus, he thought you'd talked it out well enough. So, he spent his free time after planning the trip, shopping for rings and looking proposal ideas and even asked some of his colleagues for advice. It’d be a trip where you got to spend some time after being away for so long.
But that's when you called and honestly kicked him in the balls. Too confused he just went along with it.
"Switzerland is such a good choice, you kids are so good at these things." She says probably imaging herself there too. It’s not long before his eyes are staring at the black velvet box on his dressing table, and his head is spinning all over again. He knows how excited she gets about this and she won’t stop. “You could take a walk and then pull out the Ring with those mountains in the back and-"
"Eomma!" His deep voice stops her, not harshly but whiny. Not telling his parents about the breakup is honestly the most overwhelming thing because of how his mother adores you and finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. she could go on but the tired look on her son's face makes her stop. She wants to pry on why he looks more drained that ecstatic but she chooses against it.
”Is something wrong?”
He realizes just how carried away he’s getting with his emotions. He shakes his head. “no. I’m just stressed.” He finally looks up at her to give a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but she returns.
"Sorry, you know how I get carried away. I'm sure you have your own plan let me not stress you."
She leaves and he sighs
No. He has no plan of his own. He has no plan at all.

Your suitcase handle is firmly clutched into your hand as you walk into the airport.
Your eyes scan the crowd. Every face. Each bag too, because you know which one he'd probably be carrying with him. Seeing it again is gonna be triggering cause the last time you saw it was the last time you saw him off.
You and jungkook agreed to come separately and since his parents lived closer to the airport he'd be here first and wait for you by security. But now that you're there you can't see him. Maybe he's a little late but why wouldn't he tell you.
You told him you had just arrived but he hasn't even seen that message. Has he changed his mind? is the first thing that pops up in your head. If he has that's a shitty way to do it. Just ghost you?
So, you pull out your phone to call him. “Pick up." You mutter under your breath.
No answer.
You feel stupid. It honestly feels like you're on a Lifetime show or even worse TLC.
Your annoyance bubbles over as you glance around the busy security area. "Where is he?" you ask yourself.
Though you think he has, you doubt jungkook would just ghost you. It's not what you know him to be. You tap your foot impatiently and try to call him again. Still nothing. Your heart finally relaxes when you spot him already walking to you. "Seriously?" You say a little upset when he finally reaches. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"Oh. I didn't hear it." He says pulling it out of his pocket. "Must be on silent. I’m sorry." He looks at you genuinely so. And you can’t bring yourself to be as mad as you want to be. It’s not a big deal, he’s here now.
“it’s okay, we should get going, we’re almost late.” You say frustrated with how traffic delayed your arrival. Jungkook just hums agreeing and surprising you by taking you suitcase. You’d tell him it’s fine and you can manage but he’s already walking ahead of you. Probably not wanting to hear it.
A tense silence stretches between you two as you wait to board your plane. Sitting side by side has never felt so awkward, like the space between you is miles wide. You scroll through your phone, pretending to be so into it. You don’t notice Jungkook stealing occasional glances at you. Or rather, at the sweater you’re wearing—the one he gave you (more like you took.) just before he moved to another town. The green complimenting your skin. He loves how it just melts to fit you. He’s glad to know that you’re warm, he’s aware of how incredibly warm it is.
He wonders if you’re wearing it deliberately, or if it’s just because it’s the warmest thing you own, and today’s even colder than yesterday. Probably no meaning behind it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Though it’s not enough to stop him from developing a smile on his face, one he covers with his hand.
The low hum of voices and the faint crackle of the airport announcements fill the silence. Someone walks past, dragging a squeaky suitcase, the airport noises the only thing between the two of you.
“I know this is awkward.” He starts randomly, at first doubting he was talking to you but then you move your attention to him, when you realize it’s only you he can be talking to. It’s not like you were looking at anything on your phone. “I want us to enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it.”
“I want you to enjoy it too.” You find yourself speaking before your brain can process.
He smiles and turns to meet your eyes. All of a sudden, he feels so close. “So can we just pretend.” His eyes don’t move, if possible, they stare even deeper into yours. Yours don’t move as well. “Pretend like everything’s okay.” He speaks low as if he doesn’t want others around to hear. “Agree?”
You haven’t said much, instead just let him speak. “Agreed.”
You don’t mind pretending. You’ve been pretending you’re okay all this time, so why can’t you do it now.
-
You watch Jungkook sliding the bags into the overhead storage above your seats. He notices you approaching and nods for you to have the window seat.
“You sure?” you ask only because he called dibs when you planned the trip that he’d be getting the window seat.
He nods. “Yeah. I know you like it more than I do.” You do. He only called dibs because he was trying to ‘one up’ you like everything’s a game.
You squeeze passed him get comfortable in your seat and he’s soon sitting next to you. You’re glad it’s just two seats.
You sit in silence for most of the flight, each pretending to be too absorbed in your own activities to notice the other. Jungkook watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scroll through your phone, then switch to reading a book. This trip can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. Of course, you two haven’t talked about your breakup, but it doesn’t have to come up. You’ll just enjoy the weekend and go back to normal, like he said—pretend---if either of you even knows what that means.
What are the boundaries of pretending.
At some point, you shift in your seat, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You’re asleep, of course, but Jungkook glances down at you, momentarily startled. He considers waking you but decides against it. Instead, he leans back slightly, letting you stay there.
As the plane hums softly and moves through the sky, Jungkook can’t help but wonder if this trip could be his chance to fix things. How does he want it to happen? Does he even know? All he knows it that you do eventually have to talk about things. Do you even want to talk about it, because you seem to be avoiding it.
But there’s only so much avoiding you can do.

As soon as the plane lands, you stretch in your seat, surprised you managed to sleep for that long. Glancing at Jungkook, you watch as he pulls the luggage from the overhead bin. He looks like he didn’t get any sleep at all, you had been sleeping on his shoulder for most of the time. You exchange a brief look—just acknowledging each other and your present moment—before heading off the plane
The crisp Swiss air hits you as you step outside the terminal, and you follow Jungkook as he gets into a cab and it drives confidently toward a car rental area, which you’re confused about but don’t ask. Jungkook picks up keys from the reception and you walk through the parkin lot looking for what you don’t know. You’re just following. You stare at him puzzled as he dangles the keys. He’s been quiet, and you hadn’t even expected to rent a car. Public transport seemed like the plan, but now that you think about it, you remember how Jungkook feels about it.
“You rented a car?” you raise a brow.
He nods, “yeah, it’d be easier. Thought you’d approve.”
He catches a glance of your face, like you’re trying to figure something out, but can’t.
“Hmm.” You only hum.
“You look cute when you’re confused”. He takes you by surprise. “Come on.” He says walking and not letting you process his words. You just try to shake them out of your head.
You don’t admit it, but you're impressed. He thought ahead. And you’re honestly glad he did—something you feel he’s been lacking the past year.
Once he’s done packing the luggage into the car, he closes the trunk and slides into the driver’s seat. You’re not sure why you’re shocked to find out it’s a Mercedes-benz g63 amg. You’d always known he had an obsession with luxury cars, especially ones like this. The fact that his job pays so well certainly helps, you guess moving out of town must’ve been worth it.
The car is great-- so comfortable, and the heater works perfectly, keeping you warm against the cold.

As Jungkook adjusts the mirrors, you scroll through your contacts, trying to figure out what to call the person you booked the cabin with, “what do I call them a host?” You mutter under your breath before dialling the number.
Jungkook glances at you as you speak to the host in quick tones. "Got it, thanks," you say, giving a quick wave of your phone toward Jungkook. With the directions noted you can now get to moving.
"Okay, so we head north, then take-“
“North?" Jungkook interrupts, starting the engine. "Are you sure it's not west or whatever?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You glare at him. He glances at one map and thinks he knows his way around Switzerland.
"I just talked to the guy," you say flatly.
Jungkook smirks, recalling a past trip. "Remember last time we travelled, and we ended up on a dead-end street?" he says with a cheeky smile on his face. he’s teasing you.
You roll your eyes at the memory. You had been driving through the outskirts, and your GPS got wonky, causing you to go down a deserted road.
“If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t have gotten lost,” you reply.
You stop bickering, finally following the GPS. Jungkook decides to follow the directions, and the tension eases as you leave the city behind.
The atmosphere shifts, replaced by a sense of awe at the breathtaking scenery. Low-capped mountains stretch into the horizon, Swiss chalets dot the landscape, and the sun reflects off the lakes. You’re glad you arrived during the day; cause nighttime would not have done the view justice.
You watch out the window, your voice filled with awe. "Oh my gosh, it's so beautiful." Jungkook glances at your direction before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, equally mesmerized by the view.
"Can you grab my camera from the back?" he askes. Recalling his passion for photography, you can’t be surprised he has it with him.
You pull out the camera from his bag, noticing it’s larger and more expensive looking than the one you had gifted him. "Do you still have your other one?" you’re curious.
He knows what you’re hinting to. "It fell in water during a fishing trip with my team, but I'm getting it fixed."
“Do you still have the pictures.” You’d hate to lose them, even though they are null and void now, you still like how happy you looked in them.
“Yeah. They’re in my SD.” He informs you and you’re glad.
You fumble with the new camera, struggling to operate its buttons, he notices. "There's a button just there," he directs. Though you aren’t much of a photographer, you manage to snap some decent shots of the scene. You take a lot to make sure you have options.
Feeling playful, you turn the camera to jungkook and snap a pic of him. You had always admired his model-like features and often joked he should pursue modelling instead of his current path, which kept him 218 miles away. But now you realize modelling would only take him even farther.
He never agreed to the idea but never argued either. He preferred to appreciate beauty rather than be the centre of attention.
"Did you just take a picture of me?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Yeah, just one," you reply.
He doesn’t respond, leaving you to wonder what he’s thinking. Is he upset? Did you cross a pretending line?
"Wanna stop and take pictures," he grins, "y’know for your Instagram."
It’s not a bad idea, but you don’t want to be late and have the host waiting for too long.
"We won't be long." he looks over to see if you’re considering. He smiles when sees that you are. You don't post much on Instagram, and he knows that. But it wouldn't hurt to have some pictures from this trip.
"Let's be quick," you accept.
He pulls over to the side of the road and when you’re out he’s approaching you to take the camera. "Let me take some of you first," you insist. He isn’t so keen on it though.
"Just a few," you whine dodging him trying to take it from your hands.
"We're supposed to be quick." He reminds you. "And you know I'm not a fan of pictures of me."
You not wanting to bicker. You hand it over to him. "But I will take pictures of you eventually," it’s a promise.
You quickly get posing on a spot you like, and he snaps several pictures. Some you were prepared for, while others were candid of you looking up a bird flying over, like you’ve never seen a bird before. or just in awe of the scene behind. Why do the birds seem so majestic here?
Jungkook smiles as he continues to take photos, forgetting the time. "I think that's enough. We're going to be late," you say, running out of poses to do.
You start walking to the car and he snaps one more picture of the scene before getting back and starting the car. Whilst adjusting to the warmth he hands you the camera.
"These are so pretty," you bulge your eyes out at how good jungkook is at taking pictures. You can definitely see the difference. Jungkook can’t help but feel a sense of pride. You scroll through the camera, admiring more pictures.
Then you scroll a little too far and notice a series of photos featuring a friend—someone he seems to be close to. In one, she leans on his shoulder, a gesture that causes some type of discomfort or irritation. You couldn’t be sure, you’re too busy scrolling. She smiles too hard, you judge.
gosh you're pathetic. Why are you acting like this. The man is not your boyfriend he can do whatever. The statement causes an unwanted sour taste to form over your taste buds.
You continue to scroll, analysing the photos, each one deepening your insecurities.
"Careful, you're gonna damage the buttons," Jungkook jokes when he notices your rushed movement. He wonders what has you that way.
When he speaks, you’re brought back to reality. Though you’re brought back with an attitude. You switch off the device and lay it back where you found it, sitting back down with a scowl on your face and jungkook wonders the cause.
You had been fine just a moment ago. He doesn’t say anything and focuses fully on the road ahead. The silent drive to the cabin feels anything but aesthetic.

You sigh as the car slows, leaving behind the snow-covered path. When you approach the cabin, it’s instantly recognizable from the photo. At least you weren’t lost or scammed. The place looks serene. It’s blanketed in snow. It’s not like those huge family ones. It’s small just to fit you and jungkook. You’d have no money to buy anything or activities if you booked those larger ones. And they’re unnecessary cause it’s just the two of you.
Jungkook parks the car, and as you both step out, the awkwardness that’s shadowed the trip returns. It had been there from the beginning, lingering beneath exchanges and strained silences. Brief moments, like taking pictures earlier, had been relieving, but even that had soured quickly. Now, neither of you had much to say.
The cabin’s host, a kind older man with a thick Swiss accent, greets you warmly, showing you around the cozy interior and pointing out the back patio before leaving. Once alone, you both quietly bring in the luggage. The silence is deafening, broken only by the crunch of snow you step on.
Due to your irritation that some how still lingered you step a little too hard on the icy ground, and in an instant, your foot slips. You land awkwardly in a mix of snow and dirt, the impact cushioned but still hurting.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook calls, his voice tinged with concern and amusement. He’d drop the luggage to come check on you if you hadn’t brushed him away with your hand.
Still irritated, now cause of the fall, you dust yourself off and move yourself inside. You drop the luggage in bedroom and start taking off your sweater, only to have Jungkook walk in moments later.
“One bed,” he states, looking at the large, centred piece of furniture. “Looks comfy.” You seem to have forgotten the cabin was lover’s themed, so it did only have one bed. The host had asked you if it was a problem when he saw the look on your face but you just brushed it away at you being tired.
You glance at the bed, then at him. “Yeah. Guess you’ll have to take the couch,” you joke, though your tone comes out flatter than intended.
“Nope.” He flops onto the bed, which creaks under his weight, making him pause to check if it’s broken. When it holds, he relaxes. “I’m sleeping right here.”
You sigh, deciding it’s not worth arguing. You’ve shared a bed before—it shouldn’t be a big deal so many times at that. But those times are not now and you have to deal with your new circumstance.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, expecting him to leave the room. Instead, he sprawls comfortably on the bed.
“Knock yourself out,” he replies casually.
Groaning, you grab your toiletries and head to the bathroom. The hot water feels like a gift, relaxing your tense muscles. If only the whole trip could feel this peaceful.
When you return, Jungkook is gone, though his shoes by the door confirm he hasn’t gone far. You search through your suitcase for a sweater, only to realize you packed just one sweater—the one now wet and dirty. Frustration bubbles as you grab a thin, long-sleeved shirt. It’ll have to do, though you doubt it’ll keep you warm in tomorrow’s outdoor activities.
Meanwhile, Jungkook in the kitchen has immersed himself in exploring the layout of it. whilst on his expedition his attention drifts to a tiny blue bird minding its business outside the window. He leans into it but carefully not to scare it away. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to find him a bother. “Got any advice for me?” he murmurs, taking a peek behind him. The bird doesn’t react, oblivious to his internal conflict. He’s unsure—about you, about himself, about what this trip is supposed to accomplish.
When you enter the kitchen and done talking to his new friend who doesn’t present him with anything viable but his company, he’s quick to point out the lack of groceries. “We should go shopping. It’s on your itinerary, right?” he teases lightly.
You nod, unsurprised he remembers. You’d always been the planner, the one who thought of everything. Maybe that’s why the breakup hurt so much—it came so suddenly, leaving no time to plan how to feel or move on.
As he’s about to suggest leaving immediately, he notices you rubbing your arms. “Aren’t you cold?” he asks, gesturing to your thin shirt.
“I’m fine,” you reply dismissively, though you clearly aren’t.
“Put on a sweater before you get sick,” he insists. His boyfriend instincts linger, even now.
You hesitate but eventually admit, “I forgot to pack an extra one.” The way how stares at you is so embarrassing for you.
Jungkook chuckles softly, though not unkindly. “Of course you did.” You roll your eyes. He moves to grab a sweater from his suitcase and hands it to you. “Here. Borrow this.”
You take it, the faint scent of his cologne that seems to be on everything he wears no matter how much he washes, invaded your senses. “Thanks,” you say quietly, slipping it on and hoping not to ruin this one too.
By the time you return from the store, exhaustion settles in. You both sit in the living room, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Jungkook flips through the channels while you sit quietly, the warmth of his sweater and the fire calming you.
“You’ve made a lot of friends in Jeju,” you say suddenly, your tone sharper than intended.
Jungkook pauses, confused. “What friends?”
“Colleagues, maybe? Customers? I saw the pictures on your camera,” you admit, staring into your cup instead of at him.
He leans back, waiting. He knows what you’re referring to and could explain that the woman in the photos was a client a little too excited and touchy about her wedding rehearsal photos, and had wanted photos with him. But he wants you to ask.
Instead, the silence stretches, filled with unspoken questions—questions about Jeju, the photos, the breakup, and even yourself. You sigh, pushing them aside.
“is there something you wanna ask?”
“There’s nothing I want to ask,” you finally say, though the bitterness in your voice betrays the truth.
Jungkook laughs softly, shaking his head. “I thought we agreed on pretending.” His voice is still soft.
“I know. Just don’t want you pretending if you’ve got other things going on.”
Jungkook chuckles taking a sip of his cocoa.” I’m good.”
“I’m good too.”
“Good.”
You watch him stand a sly smirk adoring his face. “let’s go back to pretending now, okay?” he says looking at you.
You mumble a sure and he walks off. Probably to sleep.
Sleeping the same bed is even more awkward. After spending some minutes you’d decide you were too tired to be awake, you came the bedroom.
Jungkook was still awake staring at his phone, and for some reason shirtless. He likes to sleep shirtless and the tension between you two isn’t going to stop him.
Jungkook tries to keep his eyes to himself as you change into your pajamas. You didn’t want to be childish so you just changed right there. It’s nothing he’s never seen before. He won’t act like the action doesn’t cause a rise in memories and he holds himself to not thinking further. Soon you’re crawling into your side and laying facing away from him. Jungkook chooses to lie on his back, the bed big enough for you to keep your distance. He turns off the lights but your eyes remain open staring into the dark.
As the night continues, none of you are able to fall asleep. Jungkook tries to make himself comfortable, his shifting cause you to think he might be moving closer, but he doesn’t. why do you feel sad. Your brain is used to being close to him and him holding you in situations like this. And he too is used to wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer into him. But there’s none of that.
“I can’t fucking sleep.” he groans frustratedly sitting up. He runs his hands in his hair. He looks over at you thinking you’re asleep, the darkness preventing him from actually knowing. He’s jealous at the idea of you being able to sleep, but when your frustrated voice sounds, he’s relieved. Relieved that he’s not the only not able to sleep.
“Same.” You mutter remaining on your side.
Jungkook huffs and puffs contemplating on asking what he’d been debating. Your bodies are probably used to sleeping closer to each other, so maybe that’s’ why it’s hard. You surely won’t mind if it means you get to sleep right?
He looks over to you and how far you seem from. He doesn’t like, hates the reality of it. “Can I sleep closer to you.” His words and the fact that he actually said takes you aback. You freeze. Your silence is killing him, he shouldn’t have said it. he should take it back, well—but he’s already sai-
“Okay.” Okay? Well, that was easy, he thought you’d be looking at him weird. but no, you just lay on your side waiting for him.
When he said closer you never thought he meant this close. You’re the closest you can be. But you don’t mind it, it actually brings you that giddy feeling, like it’s your first time cuddling. You realize just how much you missed it. He nuzzles his face in your neck and this is when he’d kiss your shoulder and neck but he doesn’t and the detail is gravely missed. He has to hold himself from not doing it.
“We’re going to move to the middle of the bed, darling.” It’s only then that you realize how much at the edge you were. You shuffle yourselves and move into the center and get comfortable in the position.
“Are you comfortable?”
So much you hate to say it. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry. “y-yeah.” You can barely respond coherently with how his voice is so close sending goosebumps all over you.
“Can I put my around you? It’s the only place I can put it.” he tries to explain, but you were actually hoping for it.
You nod for him to go ahead and he wraps his arm around you. Honestly, he should’ve just asked if he could cuddle you, because this is basically what you’re doing. He didn’t have to mask it; you’d have said yes either way. He doesn’t know that though.
Now that you’re close to him and him to you, you both weirdly fall asleep, very quickly at that.

First thing on your itinerary was to visit the Lindt home of chocolate you’d been drooling at the thought of it since you planned this trip. It would honestly be a crime to visit Switzerland and not visit the Lindt factory. Being a lover of chocolate no activity on your list will be as good as this.
“I don’t know why they have us putting our bags away.” Jungkook whines taking off his jacket, as required and placing it in a locker. “How am I supposed to carry my chocolate.” His speech is almost childlike. You just chuckle.
” That’s why they do it.” You inform him, with a soft smile and start to walk ahead of him. Jungkook walks behind you, watching how you look around with wonder.
Did he mention how good he feels right now. The sleep he had last night was the best he’s had in a while. And it only serves to tell him how much he’s missed your presence. Just you as a whole. Being away from you for so long has had an effect on him too. It’s only now, that he’s not able to do all the things he used to do, that he realizes how much he’s missed it. And how much you mean to him.
“Oh my gosh.” Jungkook watches how you take in the aroma of chocolate. It invades his senses and when you’re turning around to check on him, he’s nodding. You want him to enjoy this just as you are.
You gasp and it’s when you spot the huge chocolate fountain that you pull Jungkook’s attention to it by his arm. “it’s so fucking huge.” You say still holding onto him.
“that’s what she said.”
You roll your eyes. “Grow up.” You both laugh. and it’s when you’re lost in laughter and admiring the fountain that jungkook looks down to see you still holding his arm. So, in a swift action of no thought, all instinct he moves to hold your hand.
Your head sharply moves to look at him then at his hand holding yours and then back up at him. He’s got this innocent smile on his face and you can’t help but warm up into his hold. You don’t mind the action of holding hands but you fear what it implies. Is he for real or still pretending?
For the first minutes you stay holding hands, until jungkook is pulling away to grab his camera. You rub you hands together to try and regain your sense of independence. What the heck are you doing, holding hands? This pretending thing Is a good idea, but it’s definitely messing with you in some way. All ways. He’s giving you things that you’ve been craving. The cuddle at night, the holding hands, you’ve missed it all. But you don’t know where it’s coming from, does he miss you too or is he pretending. To think of it you never really discussed what type of pretending you’re doing. Are you pretending to still be together or are you pretending to be good friends. Gosh this is so stressful. And confusing. You wonder if he’s stressing like you are. He seems calm. He’s handling this so well.
“Wait—I need a picture of you. Stand still.” He points the camera to you and you’re quick to turning your head away.
“it’s fine you don’t need to-” snap.
He doesn’t give you the time to object and just snaps. “Jungkook stop taking pictures of me.” He doesn’t. you’re embarrassed to be doing this in public. But he seems thrilled. “Okay wait-” he doesn’t so you choose to reaching for the Lense. But jungkook doesn’t mind filling his storage with pictures of your palm. “Kook, wait.”
“Kook?” he questions smiling. You realize your mistake. Honestly you didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out naturally for you to get him to stop. And it worked. Though now it shifts the air.
You groan. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You roll your eyes. You don’t even know what you’re saying.
He doesn’t linger on it more, which honestly helps your case. The blush on your face is deserving of a picture. Snap.
“Stop that before I revoke your privileges.” You threaten. He doesn’t want that.
He raises his hands in surrender. “won’t do it again.”
You ignore him and turn to keep walking.
“Can take more later though?”
You don’t answer, but he takes it as a yes. You’ve always been his muse, it’s not gonna stop now. His camara is now getting some action.
This place is actually so beautiful, smells amazing too. The pictures you saw did not do it justice.
“Look at the strawberries, the nuts. Ah—I’m in heaven.”
Jungkook smiles as he watches enjoy and pointing for him to look at the large container, of everything that goes well with chocolate. He���s really just happy that you’re including him, by telling him how much you freaking love this place or how you want to stay here forever. It makes him feel like things aren’t all that bad between the two of you and it can be fixed.
“Why are you looking at me like that.” You narrow your eyes at him. Gosh he forgot how long he was looking for. You’d been telling him something but he zoned out.
“Oh-nothing.” He clears his throat.
You just brush it off, cause if you linger on it, you’ll melt. Jungkook looking at you has been a weakness for you, there’s just something about him focusing on you and having only you in sight. “Anyway, I was saying try this.”
He doesn’t regain his consciousness before you’re bringing a spoon full of chocolate to his lips. he takes it, tasting the sweetness of it.
He licks the chocolate off his lips when you pull away. “Mmm….so good.” You nod glad that he likes it. Though way he’s looking at you makes you think he might not be talking about the chocolate. You choose to ignore your thoughts with a cough.
As you go on you learn facts about chocolate and the factory and jungkook takes the pictures. When walking around you make sure to not forget to collect little pieces of chocolate from the dispensers. And it’s not long before your hands are getting full.
When your expedition is over, you’re returning to your bags to stuff them with your treasure.
“This is a lot of chocolate.” Jungkook states.
You shake your head. “it’s not that much.”
“Yeah of course an addict is telling me that.”
You gasp. “I’m not an addict.”
“Tell that to all the money I’ve spent buying you chocolate.” Money which it didn’t mind and loved spending.
“Honestly that’s all on you.” You say raising your hands. He chuckles.
Getting tired you both decide to go by the café inside the factory. Whilst there you both order some food to eat which is not chocolate, except you. For your beverage you picked to drink the famous hot cocoa. Which tastes like heaven made it themselves.
“How do I take this home with me?” you say motioning to your drink.
“Just stay.” He meant to say you both could just stay, but his tongue tripped.
You nod, thinking about it. “I could.” Moving to Switzerland and living here would be a dream. But unfortunately, things aren’t that easy. Finding a job would be hard, plus the language barrier would kill you.
“don’t.” he’s almost pleading. “I don’t know how I’d tell your family I lost you to Switzerland.” More like he doesn’t know how he’d fix things.
“Honestly it’s no competition.” You say in deep thought and analysis.
“What? you would leave me for Switzerland?” He says it not realizing causing you to chuckle. And when you look at him, he gets it.
The conversation doesn’t go farther after that. Jungkook just stays in his thought. When jungkook had made the decision to move. He honestly thought it wouldn’t be that bad. He’d plan on maybe moving you out to him when he settled down, but your job was a very hot topic. At the time he hadn’t realized how serious it was. But now he does.
If it was you moving, he’d be just as hurt. And it pissing him off that he hadn’t realize the impact.
For your second and last activity for the day, cause of the way time just flies by; is the largest indoor flea market.
You spend your time there; just looking around, eating, and buying stuff. During your move you make it a mission to take pictures of jungkook. And you do manage to take some good ones.
He also finds an opportunity to ask about your work and how it’s going. And if that co-worker that bothers you is still around. He’s glad to learn that she did get moved to another department. He’s happy with whatever makes you comfortable.
As you’re talking, you’re approached by a couple, older but not old and tourists as well. They ask you to take a picture of them and jungkook is glad to assist. When he’s done, they’re happy and offer to take a picture of you too, jungkook wants to decline the offer assuming you wouldn’t want to but you’re quick to accepting.
“you two look so lovely together.” The lady says and you have no clue what to say apart form an awkward thank you. You wouldn’t blame them for thinking you’re a couple, not with the way jungkook is smiling at the picture.
“Grow up kook.”
“What?” he whines. “It’s a good photo.”
You roll your eyes before walking away. He follows behind you, smiling.
-----
Soon your day on paper comes to an end and you’re returning to the cabin.
You did not know what to expect of your day in the morning. Your night was okay but would the rest of the day go the same? those were some of your thoughts. But to your pleasure the day went well, great even. You just hope it’s the same for the rest of the trip.
Jungkook is on cocoa duty (not assigned but he took the responsibility.) and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a good job at it every time.
Leaning against the counter holding your mug and watching him finishes up with his own, you watch.
“How’d you like the Lindt factory?”
He takes a sip before answering. “Great. Honestly enjoyed it more than I thought.”
“What? You don’t trust my judgement?” you watch as he leans on the counter opposite from you.
“it’s not that. Just never thought I was that big of a chocolate fan.”
You hum. Silence fills the kitchen as you’re just enjoying the drink. Why does the air feel so thick, is it the way he just leans there. Pajamas not doing a very good job at hiding his physique. Why the hell does he look buffer. Gosh, his arms look like they’d lift and lay you to your demise. In the morning you caught a glimpse of his shirtless torso, and you were about to lose your cool. To add gasoline to the fire he had just stepped out the shower and had not completely dried. Geez, if it wasn’t for your ability to leave the room, you don’t know what you would’ve done or said.
Jungkook has always had a keen eye for your little frustrated looks, the way you don’t blink, the way you wrap your hands around yourself or how you cross your legs. He knows. It’s the details he’s aware of. No one knows you like he does.
“I like this sweater on you.” He says pointing to the green sweater you’d just gotten back from the dry cleaners.
You look down at it. “Because it’s yours?” you raise a brow as you take a sip of your cocoa.
He shakes his head looking your body up. “no. because you look good in it.” He’s biting his lip, then his playing with that little lip ring. Yn, hold yourself.
You choke out a chuckle. “Jungkook.” It’s a warning for him. But he doesn’t take it.
“What? It’s not my fault you look good in all my clothes.” gosh you’re gonna die choking on this liquid. “Makes me want to just hand over my closet to you.” He’s coming closer to you, gosh what the fuck, he approaches but it’s the sink you’re standing in front he wants. You move. He rinses his mug, tired of the drink.
“Well, that won’t be necessary.” you say sliding away from his towering figure. Just to catch your breath, cause you’ve been holding it. Jungkook laughs at the movement. Just after, you’re rinsing your cup and placing it in the cupboard. You’re not gonna die choking on cocoa, or jungkook as a matter of fact.
“Think I’m going to bed.” You state thinking the bedroom will be your only place of solace away from him.
“Me too. I’m getting sleepy.”
You’re stiff as he walks behind you. You hope you’ll be able to sleep on your own tonight. Cause if jungkook just as much as touches you, you’ll turn into a puddle.
You’re quick to moving to your side and facing away from him as to not see him taking of his shirt. You know because you hear it drop.
“Goodnight.” He says turning off the light.
With all your might you mumble a goodnight to him too.
Tonight, you manage to fall asleep without cuddling. You sleep back-to-back close enough to feel the heat radiating off the other.

Jungkook wanted, so badly to go skiing after seeing an advertisement for it and saw some people do it on your way to the cabin. You’re not one for these intense sports but since he went with you to the Lindt factory, you thought it’d only be fair to go as well. Just accompany him.
Though his won’t be sweet and rewarding.
“You wanna go with me?” he asks teasingly and you shake your head, as soon as you process his words.” come on.” He whines.
“I’ll just cheer you on from down here.” The process of skiing looks terrifying. What do you mean you had to go on those zip line things, and slide down. Not you. Nope.
“it’s not that bad. You’ll be with me.”
Though it sounds comforting it doesn’t change anything. “I’ll just stay here looking around and taking pictures for you.” You smile hoping it convinces him.
He chuckles, his bunny smile on show for you.” baby what are you so scared of?” the pet name comes out smoothly, catching you by surprise. But it does seat itself in and warm your heart.
“it’s just scary.” You wrap your arms around your body.
He sighs watching you closely. “Fine, but can we do something as exciting, later.” He stares at you scattering your brain for what he could be referring to. “Like ice skating.” Oh—he was thinking ice skating. Last night has your mind in a whirlwind.
“That sounds better.” Jungkook laughs cause it’s basically the same thing, but he won’t get into it.
“Okay then.” He says walking to the register. “we’ll do that later.” It’s a promise.
Jungkook is off skiing and you’re sat in doors, still able to watch the outside activities, landscape and events thought the large window. You don’t mind not going skiing, it’s not like it was on your list.
While you’re sat you decide it’d be a good time to call jimin and let him in on your trip so far.
“it’s not as awkward, anymore. It was at first. But then we just agreed to just enjoy the trip for the sake of our money.”
“The sake of your money?” he mocks.
You choke out a laugh. “Yes, for the money.” Is it? “he’s been nice and all. It’s actually not bad.” Jimin hums as he listens, this time at least you have his attention.
You’ve shockingly enjoyed the trip more than you thought, so far. If you just keep on, the whole trip could go well and you’d be back to your normal lives. You hate the sickness you feel at the thought. The trip will end, it is gonna end and you’ll be back to what you were before. Gosh.
“Sounds like the trip is going a little too well.”
You scoff. “it’s not that, we’re both just chill.”
“No fucking or kissing.”
You gasp and look around like someone could’ve heard that, but your phone is to your ear. “jimin! Oh my gosh.” The thought of it has you blushing still.
“Just sayin’. Jungkook’s probably dying. ”
You roll your eyes. He’s fine, you’re fine.
You go on talking but soon you have to end the call. Immediately you cut the call and stuff your phone in your pocket a figure sits next to you. Male, not jungkook. You pay no mind to him. you’re on a public bench anyone can sit next to you. He’s just in his own business. Is what you think until he’s reaching over to talk to you.
“Exciting isn’t it.” when he speaks you catch his foreign accent, not Swiss. Must be a tourist like you.
You awkwardly furrow your brows. “Huh?”
“Skiing.” He points.
Then it clicks that that’s what he’s talking about.
“I presume.” You say modestly. Why the heck is he talking to you.
“Presume? Haven’t you gone?”
“no.” You shake your head chuckling. “it’s not for me.”
“You can’t say that. You haven’t even tried.” You internally roll your eyes. Why does he seem to care so much. “Plus, why come to Switzerland in the winter and not try skiing.”
You don’t know why you carry on this conversation, but you feel like justifying yourself. “Honestly I just came for the Lindt factory.” You say shamelessly causing the stranger to laugh. he doesn’t seem like a weirdo or creep, but you can never know. He’s probably not talking to you out of pure interest. So, you try to keep your distance.
“you’ve been?”
“Yeah. Yesterday.”
He hums sound interested and you know this conversation isn’t ending anytime soon. “How was it?”
You scoff internally. “It was fun. Would recommend you’ll love it.” You don’t even know him; how would you know he’d like it. And to be fair you’d add that Jungkook’s presence made the place more exciting to be at. You assume he doesn’t have a jungkook. Speaking of jungkook, how long is he going to be? You should’ve just gone out on a walk instead.
He nods. “Well maybe you can show me.” You pause, okay now you’re starting to get uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that I came alone and it would be nice to have someone show me around.” He justifies but it doesn’t make you any more comfortable. “I’d pay for your ticket if that’s the issue.”
You chuckle. “I’m a tourist to, there’s not much I can show you.”
“I mean you’ve visited the Lindt, so you know more than me.” Gosh he’s so adamant.
You smile awkwardly wishing jungkook would just pop up.
“you’d be better off going with someone else.” You’re looking around as if you’ve lost something. The man catches on to the action.
“Am I making you uncomfortable.” Yes. very.
“No-” before you can finish your lie of a statement, Jungkook’s interrupts, voice anything but kind.
“Yes, you are.” He says firmly, body not open for discussion.
The guy turns to look at you, then jungkook, then back at you. “Do you know him?”
Hesitantly you respond. “yeah” you debate on what to say. “He’s a friend.” He is isn’t he?
Friend? Jungkook chuckles internally. “Excuse us.” He spits out to the man.
The guy is taken aback, but just stands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You just nod and give him an awkward smile as he walks away.
You sigh relieved that he’s gone.
You and jungkook share a glance before he’s sitting down.
“Friend?” Jungkook asks when he sits next to you.
You raise a brow. “What? you wanted me to lie?”
“Lie?” he says even stronger. You don’t know what he’s pointing to right now.
“Are you parrot?” You chuckle trying to get smart with him.
Jungkook scoffs at how you avoid his eyes. “You couldn’t have said I was your boyfriend.”
“But you’re not.” You spit out a little quickly.
When you turn to look at him you catch how his jaw clenches. And if you weren’t arguing right now, you’d think it’s the hottest thing. “But you could’ve just lied so he leaves you alone. Now he’s probably going to try to approach you again.”
“he’s not going to.” You say naively.
Jungkook is getting frustrated with this, a little more than he should. “I know guys like that, he’s going wait for a time when I’m not around and attack.”
“Attack?” you laugh at his word choice. Your laughter only serves to his anger. “You’re being dramatic”
“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being serious” his statement comes out a little strong and louder than you’d like
“don’t yell.” You warn him and he apologizes. “I get you feel like you need to protect me, but relax.”
He laughs at the way you think. You thinking he’s feeling like he needs to, no, he needs to. He wants to.
“I don’t feel like, I need to, I want to.”
You don’t say anything, he knows he’s got you, what more could you say. There’s nothing. Jungkook is the protective type, has always been. He’s shown you that many times in your relationship. And then, it made sense but now you feel like he shouldn’t have to bother himself with it. You’re not his responsibility anymore. “We should get ready to go for lunch.” you stand walking away.
Jungkook follows after you, knowing you’re now gonna give him attitude. Your folded arms are evidence of that. He’d normally just kiss the attitude away but for obvious reason he can’t.
-
“you’re not gonna ask how skiing was?” He tries really hard to open the air for conversation. He hates it when you argue. So, he tries to everything he can to lighten the air.
You stare down at your food. Your eyes not meeting him once. “How was it?” you don’t even sound interested which you hate because you are. You love to hear jungkook talk about things he loves.
“It was great.” He explains not into going into much detail like he wanted to. Your energy demoralizes him. “I’m sure they’re still open if you still want to try. He suggests but you’re quick to shaking your head.
When he’s about to say something, he’s getting interrupted. It’s a girl, the one he met when skiing. She showed him around some routes since she’s a local.
“Yn, this is Lena. I met her whilst skiing.” He says introducing you. “Lena this is yn, my friend.”
Fuck now you know how bad it stings.
“Hey yn. How are you liking you trip so far?” she asks politely in an accent.
You stare her up, taking in her features. She looks about your age, and gorgeous. Why is your body so rigid. Speak. “Umm- hi-I’m liking it well enough. Thanks.” you can hear how stiff and awkward your speech is. Gosh yn she hasn’t done anything to you, chill. Smile.
Jungkook breaks into your awkward encounter. “I’m gonna be seeing you at the ice rink, right?”
He says and she smiles a little too hard. You roll your eyes. What does he mean he’s gonna see her there. Is the a you and him trip anymore? Your food doesn’t look as appetizing anymore. “Yeah. I’m there often during the holidays.”
The way her voice rings in your head is jarring. Make it stop.
Soon your prayers are answered and she’s leaving. Though unlike her your heavy heart stays.
Jungkook turns to you, still staring at her route of exit. “You, okay?” your eyes return.
You shift your eyes to your hands. “Yeah, I’m just tired.” You stand from the table choosing to leave. “I think I’m gonna stop by the cabin.”
Jungkook is confused. But he just takes you as you are.
“Sure, let me get-” he threatens to stand.
“no. I’ll just take a train.”
He sits down. If you want to be alone it’s best if he lets you be.
When you get to the cabin, all alone. You find yourself falling into deep thought.
The pretend play you and jungkook are playing is good for you to enjoy the trip, but you won’t deny how much it only covers your true feelings. You play pretend and feel all these feelings as though you’re still together and then the trip ends and you’re sucked into being apart. And it’s him leaving all over again.
You’re getting sick of it. There’s only so much pretending you can do.
Jungkook: ice skating later today?
He wants to be sure you haven’t changed your mind.
Not matter your emotions you still want to enjoy the trip.
You: sure. Meet you there.

When you make it to the ice rink, your mood is still tense from lunch, which is your fault for holding on to the emotions for so long. To only sour your mood more, you spot jungkook talking to the Lena girl from lunch.
You roll your eyes and watch how she giggles a little too hard at something he says. Jungkook is a funny guy, but she shouldn’t be laughing, whatever he’s said can’t be that funny. This is so irritating. Why the hell is she even here.
When jungkook spots you, he has on a huge grin, but the sour look on your face has him dropping it. He thought maybe you wouldn’t be still upset by now. But he’s wrong. “Yn you’re here.” He says it like he wasn’t expecting you and you weren’t meant to be here, or that’s how you hear it.
“We made plans, didn’t we?” your tone is nothing more than flat and irritated.
“We did.” He turns. “You remember Lena?” He turns to point at her, like you can’t see her. Why’s she looking at you.
Oh, could you forget her. “I do.” You jeer.
“Hi.” she with her perfect smile. You’d liked to punch it in—your of course—you’d never actually so it.
“Hey.” It comes out awkward and strained. Wanting to get things over with you turn to jungkook immediately. “what’re we doing now?”
“Um. We’ll have to get the skates.” He turns to Lena for some type of consultation, you scoff.
“Yeah, this way.” she says turning to lead the way.
Jungkook turns to you, your folded arms the first thing he sees. He stands next to you. “You get here okay?” you didn’t arrive together which means you had to take public transport, which he knows you don’t mind but he just wants to check on you.
“Yeah.” You mutter before walking ahead of him. Do you even know where you’re going?
You want to enjoy it, but the emotions that are ahead of you block you from doing so completely. And of course, Lena is a pro at skating.
Jungkook is fairly good, for someone who’s just taken it up. You’d attribute that to his quick learner personality.
You on the other hand are struggling, and it’s pissing you off. You hold on to the half wall and glide. There’s a good amount of people around and honestly, it’s embarrassing. -like- there are even small kids better at it than you. It’d be better if you just stopped. There are probably other activities you could do. Ice skating (or skiing) is not the end all be all of Switzerland.
Jungkook would probably enjoy skating more with Lena, seeing that they skied together earlier. You question why jungkook even ever liked you in the first place. You’re not cool like Lena or even as adventurous, you do try but you don’t feel it’s enough. He’s better off with someone like her. It’s good you broke up so that he can be free to do whatever. The thought stabs at your heart.
Jungkook spots you from where he is walking out. The look on your face anything but happy. He’s swift to skating to you, making sure not to bump into anymore with how fast he’s moving. “Where you going?”
His concerned and soft voice only intensifies your frustration. Could he not see how irritated and bad at this you are. He was probably too busy to notice. He’s always busy.
“You haven’t even travelled the while ring.” He chuckles awkwardly as you step off. He follows.
“I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it.” You don’t even dare look at him, because you know if you do your frustration will win and you’ll end up yelling or crying. And both are too embarrassing to do in public.
Jungkook scoffs. Jungkook can’t tell what’s going on with you but it’s definitely disturbing your ability to enjoy anything. He wants you to enjoy. But what’s irritating him is how you don’t want to communicate what you’re feeling to him. He’s always made himself a safe space for you to open up. But you never take it. Ever since he m0ved you’ve been distant, physically and emotionally. It’s frustrating cause all he wants is to be close to you in all ways. “You were not feeling skiing and now you’re not feeling this?”
Is he blaming you for not enjoying this? It’s not your fault you feel this way. You don’t even want to be feeling like this. You do want to enjoy skating, gosh you want to, so bad. But there’s just so much you’re holding on too that pretending can’t solve.
“Jungkook I’m not any good at this.” You gesture around eyes starting to sting when you watch how other people have fun while you argue. “You just go have fun with your Leni or Lena whatever.” You act like you aren’t sure of her name.
It’s the way you say it, the force and strain in the word. The way you look to the crowd in a jittering stare looking for her that let’s jungkook know what this is all about. Did it come off like that? She’s just a girl he met whilst skiing, he honestly never thought that far. Never thought you’d be thinking of it.
“Is this because of her?” he questions eyebrows furrowed trying to look at your face that’s staring down. Why the hell are this shoe laces so hard to untie. you just want to cut them off, but you’d probably have to pay for damages. Shit
Your frustration is replaced with another type of embarrassment, when jungkook is on his knee to replace his hands with yours to help you take the laces off. You just want the ground to swallow you right now. Unlike you Jungkook’s calmness is able to take the laces off. He tries to help you into your other shoes but you just brush him off. He moves.
Standing up and looking at you he asks. Voice calm like usual. “Is it?” you’d even forgotten his previous question. Do you have to answer him?
“I don’t know how it would be when you two are off to the other side of the ring. I’ve barely talked to her.” That’s exactly the problem why the heck do you feel like this when you haven’t gotten to know the girl. You barely know her intentions.
“It is.”
You groan rolling your eyes. “If you want help skating, I can help you. I’m sorry that I got carried away.” It’s probably one of the things you’re mad about. He just fucking left you like you didn’t make plans to come here together. Yeah, maybe your attitude made the distance between you, but he should know how to deal with it by now. Gosh you’ve been together for a good 3 years. He should know how you are.
And he does. That’s why he insists you’re acting like this cause of Lena. well, she’s probably just a catalyst and there’s something deeper that you two have to address.
You stand looking up at him, but he’s towering figure doesn’t make you as intimidating as you want to feel. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, why? Cause you always know what you’re doing.”
“You know it’d be better if you just said it directly.” Whatever it is, because he wants to know. You want to walk past him but his hand around your wrist stops you. You look at it then at him. He’s not smiling, but not mad. Just concerned.
“I don’t--I’m not saying anything.” You snatch it form his grip and he lets you.
Jungkook’s face scrunches up in frustration. “That’s what you always say, then pull shit like this.”
You pause and stare at right in his--round eyes that are now, siren. “Shit like what?”
“This. Your fucking attitude.” He almost loses his tone but remembers that you’re in public, which is so fucking embarrassing. “You never want to talk about things.” He looks around for any watching eyes.
You just glare at him. Maybe you don’t like expressing yourself to him anymore. You’ve noticed it too. It had been hard for you to express yourself to him over a call, and sometimes shitty network. There had been days where you wanted to cry on his shoulders but only had the screen to rely on, so guess what you did. Nothing. You didn’t cry, you didn’t tell him anything. You’d just cry on your pillow after the call ends. “Maybe I don’t cause I know you won’t listen.”
That’s a hit to his ego. To him as a person.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I always listen to you.” The blank look on your face has him questioning himself. “of course, I’m not perfect.”
You chuckle bitterly.
“Just go off to your little girlfriend.” And there it is, a confirmation of what he already knew.
You start walking to the entrance. And he follows. Shoes on. He’s not going to be able to skate with the heaviness in his heart. He’d end up sinking into the ice, which doesn’t sound so bad right now. “Come on.” He swiftly moves to standing Infront of you. He blocks you from moving and you just give up and just decide to look at his jaw, not wanting to look directly at him. Which was not a good idea, cause of how he clenches it. You look up into his eyes. “you’re jealous?”
“Who?” he’s a parrot and now you’re an owl, he wants to say but finds it inappropriate for your mood.
“You are so jealous.”
“I’m no-”
“don’t lie to me.” You try to push at his chest for him to move out of your way, but your plan backfires giving him leeway to hold your hand firmly to his chest. Hard as a rock even through he’s sweater. “Tell me why you’re jealous.”
Instead of answering him directly you try to change the topic. You swear you can feel his heart beat through his sweater.
“Don’t act like I couldn’t see you jealous too when that guy approached me.” You try to one-up.
“I was jealous.” His confession has you wanting you dig a hole and hide yourself. It’s so easy for him to say, you weren’t even enjoying your conversation with that guy. “Difference with me is that I can say it.”
Shit. Shit. What do you say now. Get angrier, that always works, well not really.
“Whatever. I’m not jealous.” You look away from him. Are you really doing this in public. Jungkook doesn’t look like he gives a fuck right now, he just wants an answer. One which he’s not going to get.
“Tell me what you’re so jealous about?” his voice lowers
“How many times do I have to say I’m not jealous.” Till you can’t deny it anymore, the thought runs through Jungkook’s mind. “Just go have your fun.” You finally decide you’re tired of feeling his heart beat perfectly.
“you’re so ridiculous y’know.” He watches you move slight away, anger not faltering one bit. You’re determined to being upset. “can’t we just talk about this. It seems to be bothering you.”
It is. It’s fucking gnawing at your heart, your lungs, your mind.
“Nothing’s bothering me, I’m fine.” You breathe in, relaxing and calming down just a bit. “I just don’t want to be out there all on my own, while you’re having fun with some else.” Jungkook licks his lip. He doesn’t have anything else to say. What he has to say can’t be said here or whilst you’re unable to hear.
“I’m going home.” You pass by him and he doesn’t bother turning to watch you walk out.
“Korea?” it’s possible for you to want to leave. And the thought causes him to bite down hard on his bottom lip. Cause if you leave on these terms, nothing’s gonna change and he’d never get another chance. You’d avoid him like the plague.
“No, the cabin.” You state and he’s relieved. “Have fun.”
“Everything okay?” jungkook is startled by Lena’s voice who walked around to find him after she noticed he was gone.
“Yeah.” You force a smile. “I’ll just get going.” He informs her. He already has his stuff so there’s no need for him to go back inside. “Thanks for getting us in, though we didn’t even stay long.”
“No problem. It was fun, wish I got to talk to her.”
“Yeah, she isn’t normally like that.” Cause you aren’t.
“I understand.”

You don’t immediately go to the cabin. Instead, you go to the sauna you had been eyeing. It could probably be the only way to relax you. The sweat dripping down will mask the real tears falling down your face. You’re glad you’re alone right now.
You have your head leaned back thinking about what had just previously happened. The thoughts not wanting to leave you.
You hear the door open but you don’t bother looking, you’ve got a lot to think about. “hey stranger..” the familiar voice speaks just as shocked. You sharply open your eyes. Wondering if it’s you he’s speaking to but you’re just the two of you in here.
You’re just the two of you.
“didn’t expect to find you here.” He says setting himself down just in front of you and you looking at him oddly. Do you have bad luck?
“hmm” you chuckle awkwardly. You make a plan to gradually scoot yourself to the door. Being with him here does make you uncomfortable but you try to stay to enjoy what’s left of your time. You expect silence but the man doesn’t see on the same level. “Went to the Lindt factory like you said. Was honestly the best of everything.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” you say like you’re a worker at the factory or care.
“It would’ve been better if you came too.”
You awkwardly chuckle and finally decide to sit up. You came here to think and relax but this guy couldn’t be more of a bother. “I’m sure I would’ve just made it worse.”
He chuckles and smiles your way. A smile you do not reciprocate “I doubt.”
“Is your friend around?” Now you should fucking leave.
“Mm?” you ask like you didn’t hear. Fucking sirens are blaring. He’s not giving off I’m gonna leap at your vibe. It’s more of his inability to give up that bugs you. “Oh- ahh yeah. He’s gonna be here.”
He turns to look at the door like Jungkook’s about to walk through the door, but he doesn’t. gosh you wish he would. “isn’t it hard to have male friends like him.” You look at him brows furrowed, confused. You wait for him to elaborate and he’s quick to it. “Protective.” He says.
“how?”
“makes it hard for you to live your live and get to know people.” You laugh. it’s not like jungkook has his hands on you and pulling you away from people who want to talk to you. He’s actually for it but he just has a good discernment of creeps. As you sit here you reflect on his words from before when you initially met the guy. Gosh you should really start listening to jungkook. Makes you realize how right he is—sometimes--
“no.” your tone is sharp that the soft one you’d been giving him.
He shakes his head. He lifts his hands in defence saying, “I think he’s doing too much.” Now you’re getting upset, visibly so, which is not lost to the man. Who the fuck does he thinks he is. He’s the one doing too much, “I’m not some weirdo, I promise.” He hasn’t shown any signs of it yet, but you don’t give a fuck and you’re not gonna wait around for him to show it.
“I think you���re doing too much.” You snare abruptly standing up. He can tell the irritation on your face and is about to defend himself but you’re quick to cutting in. you’re not about to have it.
“I don’t know how your long your trip is but if you see me around, please don’t speak to me.”
“Wait.” You don’t.
Sauna time done you decide to go back to the cabin, feeling anything but relaxed. Daylight already lost.
Today has honestly knocked you out, as though you’ve done anything energy straining. It’s more of an emotional strain. When you walk in jungkook isn’t anywhere to be seen. So, you just assume he never got back. Makes you wonder where the hell he is and why he didn’t tell you, but you’re in no place to convict him cause you never informed him of your sauna endeavours as well. You’re both grown adults and can move around Switzerland without the other—but—why do you feel entitled to know where he is. You lost those privileges when you broke up and now when you left him at the rink.
Maybe a steamy shower will do what the sauna didn’t finish cause of you interruption. After that you decide to end your night early, you’ve got nothing to do after all.
you toss and turn in bed, barely able to get a linear sleeping time. Everything just feels so weird and off. Even worse than in the beginning. It’s all a different type of awkward, which you hate. Jungkook isn’t sleeping next to you which prompts you to checking the time.
1:39am your phone tells you.
Where the hell is he, you’re starting to get scared. You’re not worried about his safety cause jungkook is very capable in that sector, --well unless he got shot—shot? Why are thinking of that. Who’d fucking shot him, let alone in Switzerland. He’s never been in any trouble with the law or anyone. You’re getting paranoid, if you don’t see jungkook in the flesh, well and not wounded, you’re gonna lose your mind.
Putting on the sweater that has been a staple and carried you through the trip you walk out the bedroom to the open floor living room. you sigh when you don’t spot jungkook. You won’t be able to go back to sleep even if you wanted to. Cause you don’t feel like it and are losing your mind. As you’re standing in the living room like an anxiety ridden mom waiting for their teenager child at midnight, you hear it. It’s wood chopping sounds. Harsh and fast. You do have some cabins around you so it could be your neighbours—but no--the sound is closer to yours, like it’s just outside. So, you curiously walk to the door which would lead you closer to the sound. Maybe you aren’t as afraid cause you assume it’s jungkook. And it is.
You relax when you spot his figure well and healthy.
He doesn’t notice as you stand watching him. bottom lip chewed down on. Why the hell is he chopping wood at 1 in the morning.
You want to say something. You need to. Maybe apologize about what happened at the rink, you have a fair share in the argument. Since waking up or maybe after the sauna you realized how childish your behaviour was. You ruined the moment. When you could’ve just asked jungkook to help you and he would’ve been there, hadn’t you chosen to give into your irritation. Irritation of seeing him with a woman. There you said it.
His muscles flex as he moves to drop the axe down on the wood.
This is not what you want for you and jungkook. Arguing and not able to talk or share air. It’s not what you want. Even if things do officially end, you’d want to end it on calm and friendlier terms.
As you watch him you notice how his jaw tightens. He’s not just chopping wood. You start to worry for him when his movements grow harsher, of the larger chunk of wood.
“What did the wood do to you?” you try to be neutral.
He didn’t notice you behind him. So, he’s startled by the sound of your voice. Turning to look at you holding yourself in the door way, he chooses to take a break. He got so carried away he forgot he was cutting wood for the fire place and had cut too much. He drops the axe into snow. “Ditched me at the ice rink.” He says going to pick up some pieces of wood to bring inside.
Fuck you feel so bad. You stay silent watching him until he’s brought all the wood in and finally closing the door. Which allows for the warmth from the now blazing fire to fill the house. Now in warmer climate, jungkook takes off his large sweater and you drop your arms that were still wrapped around you.
“I’m sorry about that.” You mumble softly. He stands at the sink, you assume to make himself something warm.
“it’s okay, it’s not like I went all the way to stay in touch with some girl so she could get me—us--a good deal at the ice rink. Then I take you there and you ditch the thing entirely.”
You do feel horrible about to, but his tone irritates you causing you to respond as just that. Which you immediately regret.
“I left you with her, weren’t you happy with that.” You have an interesting way of saying things that bother you.
Jungkook pauses his actions and stares at you with a seriously confused face. He scoffs. You’re not making sense. “You know that’s not what I wanted.” He returns to his mug. “I wanted to spend it with you.” His voices calms.
Fuck. Uhm what do you say. You should probably say you’re sorry. “I’m sorry.”
Jungkook just listening. He just doesn’t understand, he wishes you could just be straight forward. Frustrated and tired of hiding behind a task, he drops the cup to give you, his attention.
“Did I say something wrong?” you stand where you are but jungkook moves. To you. You panic but he doesn’t walk closer than a few feet from you. You don’t know how you’d handle yourself if he came any closer. At the rink you almost died. “At the rink?” he clarifies like you’re not fully aware. He just wants to make sure that you’re on the same page. Cause you can think of other times he might have feared he’d said something wrong. “I honestly shouldn’t even have started talking to her.” He rubs a hand over his face.
Jungkook has never been malicious to you in your friendship before or relationship. Or even now. He’s been cordial. He’s the only man who’s treated so well and calmingly. Of course he has his imperfections, you both do. But it doesn’t take from how well he’s treated you. He never crosses a line.
“it’s not even that.” You’re looking off to the side and holding yourself again,
Gosh, he’s really holding himself right now. He bites his lower lip and clenches his jaw to hold himself back from just walking up to you and making you look him in the eyes. “Then what’s wrong. Please talk to me.” He pleads.
“I don’t know,” you whisper still looking beyond him, your voice is barely audible.
He’s begging, really for you to just tell him something. “Please don’t say that.” He responds, his tone a mix of frustration and pleading. He steps closer just a few centimetres away, if you unfolded your arms you’d probably bump into his chest.
“I don’t-” you start but your voice cuts you off, “it’s the way you-” you aren’t able to finish. What are you going to do with yourself. This is embarrassing, you can barely form or organize your thoughts and your mouth can barely move to speak. You’re not even going to talk about how hard it is for you to look him in the eyes. You just settle with staring at his other supporting features. His hair, his ears (that are red from what you assume is frustration—it’s not--), his eyebrows and then you skip to look at his nose--
“was it me talking to that girl?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You push away slightly.
“But we have--you know what--I want to.” He moves to block your action of walking away. You thought you were strong enough. You thought you’d manage to talk about this. But you can’t. not when it makes you want to cry. “I want to talk about it.” His voice is stern but not harsh. It’s just strong enough to let you know he’s not letting this go. It’s funny how something so insignificant can cause you to be in this situation. Forced to express and confront your emotions, the one’s you’ve been running from since the trip began, the one’s you told yourselves you’d pretend didn’t exist. You fooled yourselves by dodging the topic.
Now you’re here. “While we’re at it we can talk about why you broke up with me.” He’s not asking if you can talk about it, he’s telling you it has to be talked about and he’s not gonna let it go by. Not this time.
At his words, all your emotions unite to form a single unit of defence. “me? you agreed too.” You point at him face scowling.
“I only did cause it’s what you wanted, and I didn’t want to hold you back.”
You stare confused. “Hold me back from what?” what the fuck does he think you’ve been doing. You hope he doesn’t think you’ve been out and about since breaking up, that’s been the last thing on your mind.
“From living the life, you wanted to, without me.” His upset at the thought leading his voice to come out a little passive aggressive.
He does think that, you can see it. “Without you? I don’t want that.” You state. “But how can I live a life with you when you’re miles away, always busy. And can barely visit.” You just talk. Finally, your gears are moving. But the problem is that so are the tears. “You moving away is you choosing to live without me too.” You choke on your words a little. “Even I didn’t want to tie you to me or hold you back from your dreams that’s why I tried to li- live with it, but it got so unbearable kook. I couldn’t take it. it felt like I was alone. In fact, I was alone.”
Jungkook feels sick hearing that you felt alone.
“You know I did try.” His voice is soft, moving himself into your circle. You let him. He can’t help himself but cup your cheek. The action feels comforting, almost relieving. At least he’s here and you’re not talking over the phone, makes it much easier for you to sink into his touch.
You hold the wrist that’s caressing your cheek. Gosh you want to keep his touch here forever. “I know that’s what hurts more you tried but it still wasn’t enough. I really did want it to work. I still do.” On your last sentence you look up at him and he’s already staring at you, the thump of his other hand coming swiftly to wipe your stray tears. You sniffle. “Cause honestly I’ve missed you kook.” You feel comforted playing with the end of his sweater. “So much. I miss how we were before you moved. When it was easier for us to be together.” your fingers take a journey from the bottom of his sweater to the neck.
Your palms lay flat on his chest and his hands move to softly hold your wrist, not to move you away but you keep there.
“I know we said we’d pretend. A-and I thought I could. But I can’t kook.” On cue with his name, you look up at him. “fuck- I never knew how much I hate seeing you talk to other—" you can’t finish your sentence, but it’s okay cause he’s finished for you in his mind. “I’m sorry for attitude.”
He glides his hands from your wrists down your arms until they are both on your waist. “I’m sorry too.” He’s pulling you closer, your hands still on his chest, but now for stability. “I’m so sorry I was too distracted for you. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t serve that.” He’s caressing your back. “okay?” you have to answer but you can only bring yourself to nodding. All he’s ever wanted was to know. Know what was wrong and how he could fix it.
“I’ve missed you too.” He smiles lightly bringing his nose to brush against yours. The action has you tilting your head upwards. His lips itch to touch yours, but they don’t they just hover, he still has more to say. And he wants to say it close enough for you to feel it. “If only you knew how I dreaded every morning and realized you weren’t next to me. Every time I just wanted to fly back home.”
“So, what stopped you.” You’re looking at his lips. his rosy and moist lips from how hard he’s been biting and licking on that. You wanna do that. You wanna kiss him, wanna be the only biting down on his lips. you wanna do a lot of things right now. You wanna run your hands through his hair remind yourself of its texture, you wanna lift that sweater off, that holds his cologne so well, the earthy lavender scent, that crawls its way through your system. You wanna take that sweater off him, --feel, see—just how much that gym membership as proved itself valuable. You know you won’t be disappointed, jungkook loves the fucking gym.
“I don’t even know. But all I know is that it’s not gonna stop me anymore.” Him nudging his nose closer has you tilting your head to meet his lips. the air between you feels heavy. The feeling pulling your lips to meet. And when the do, it’s fervent. His kiss is urgent but slow, not wanting to be apart from you for a second.
Your bodies are hooked together as Jungkook is moving you back into a wall. The kiss intensifies when he leans your head back with his hand around your neck. You’re gripping onto his sweater for support and breathing him in for life.
Jungkook clings onto your lips for life too, even if he needs to breath he doesn’t stop. You moaning into his mouth will suffice. He doesn’t know where to keep his hands. Should he use them to tilt your head back to deepen the kiss, (if he goes any deeper he’s gonna sink.) whilst he uses the other to pull you leg up by your thighs, his grip surely leaving crescent moons as decorations. He doesn’t know what to do with them. For the moment he uses them to pull he sweater over his head. You’ve been clawing at it to come off.
Now shirtless you can feel his skin for what you remember it to be silky-smooth. So delicate that you fear leaving scratch marks on him, but jungkook encourages it, he begs you to do it. Your hands roam his body, first his large back, muscles flexed, then down his firm chest then down to his defined midsection. “What am I to do with all this.” You say breathless.
“You tell me. It’s all yours.” Your lips are meeting again. Tongues tagging at each other. For some reason the rich, sweet and completely irresistible taste of chocolate lingers on your lips, but he loves it and is drinking it up.
Jungkook finds that his hands are better at gripping your thigh and lifting it to wrap around his waist. His core moves into you and you feel how hard he is against you. You’re thankful for his thin pajama pants.
Your hands pull at the root of his hair, though it’s shorter you make it work, making him groan into your mouth. You both can’t fucking breath at this point, which is the only reason you’re pulling away. Your heavy breaths brushing against each other.
“jungk-” you’re moaning for him to take you to bed but he’s steps ahead of you. Your feet don’t have to fret cause he’s lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the edge of the bed.
You lay back on the bed but legs on his shoulder, he’s kneeling between your legs. Your pants are still on but not for long. In a swift motion you’re left in your plain black panties. The ones with the little bow. He chuckles at the detail. When you see what he’s laughing at you get self conscious. Jungkook looks up at you confused why you’re closing your legs.
“I didn’t know we’d be in this position, so these are the one I brought.” You try to explain yourself cheeks blushing red. He doesn’t know why you’re so insecure about the detail. He loves them.
For a quick kiss he’s on his feet hovering over you. “it’s okay, I like my gifts wrapped in bows.” He smirks and the comment has you calling out his name in shock. peck. He’s back on his knees staring at your core. The bow is a detail he’ll miss but he’d gotta take them off. Fuck is all he can think when your cunt is right in front of him, wet. Is this where he’s meant to die, right in your cunt from suffocation cause he won’t be able to detach himself from you.
Your legs are planted on his shoulder, your ass just at the edge of the bed. When he first swipes his tongue through your folds, it takes you by surprise. Gosh you missed him being right there.
“fuck” you whimper the sound not being able to be masked. Your slick, probably mixed with his saliva, drips down your cunt, down his chin. His nose is so deep in it that some of your juices run up his nose. Is this how fucking cocaine sniffers feel? He can’t wait till his cock is buried snuggly it. He sniffs in, on purpose this time, takin git once more. You grind on his face making him suck harder at your clit. You’re getting dizzy and gripping hard at the sheets. His nails dig into your thighs harshly, the pain causing pleasure.
Everything is so intense you can’t tell apart your orgasm. Fuck you can’t be coming this fast from just his tongue. Shit. “Jungkook. Don’t stop” You whine the intense feeling approaching quick, your walls tightening and fluttering around his tongue. Jungkook’s so carried away he only realizes you’re coming when your legs are shaking. He drinks everything that leaves and it’s only when you’re pulling his head back from overstimulation that he realizes he should take a breath. He’s starved can you blame him?
“you’re so gorgeous baby.” he says peppering kisses on your thighs. “Wanna do that again for me.” He’d absolutely would eat you out for a second time in a row. And you’d love that but you just want to feel him.
You’re moving up the bed and he’s hovering over you kissing your jaw. Your palms meet his ass in a teasing smack.
“Missed this ass.” You smile under him. jungkook just chuckles. you want to add on but his finger stuffing your tight cunt has you silent, gasping for air.
Jungkook smiles down at your pleasure strained face. “mm? not so talkative now?”
He thinks he’s got you. Then you slide down your hand down his abs, he knows where your hand travels and though it’ll destroy his ego, he lets you do it. “so big” you bite your bottom lip as you start stroking him, using your own juices as lubricate. He’s walls are falling. Your hand wrapped around him, has him burying his moans in the croak of your neck.
It’s a competition huh? he loves those second and fucking your cunt first.
You’re stroking him in his pants and he’s pumping his fingers in your cunt. He’s kissing you to hide his moans. It’s a fucking competition and he’s losing. He can’t lose. His hand leaves your cunt to grab at your wrist. You stop. He pulls you away from him. if you went on any longer, he’d be done for and the night wouldn’t end the way he wants. He hasn’t been touched in a year, unless it’s talking about those times you sexted, but it doesn’t count. It feels different when it’s your hands.
“why’d you do that?” you whine.
“If you did that you wouldn’t have gotten the orgasms I have left for you.” You don’t respond. you won’t argue, you do want them.
His fingers are back to pumping and even sooner than before your climax approaches. He wishes he could count just how much you flutter around his finger but he’s too busy looking at your face, pleasure written all over it. and its pride that fills him, knowing he’s the one giving it to you.
Jungkook moves away and you watch how he licks his fingers clean. The way he smiles at you after, is disgustingly hot.
“Take off your pants.” You tell him.
“You take off your shirt.” He reciprocates, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing anything.
Jungkook is spoiled by the sight before him, your chest sprawled out for him to taste. So, he leans down and wraps his tongue around a nipple. His hand lost at the other side. You love all the foreplay, really, but you want him. you’ve been thinking about it for forever.
“Jungkook.” You call. He hums saying you have his attention. “I want you.”
There’s nothing more he wants.
“Want you too baby.” He says grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance. Then he remembers.
“fuck” he whispers. You sit up and wander what has him holding back.
“what?”
“I don’t have a condom.” He knows he doesn’t have one, it’d be weird, it’s not like he was coming on this trip expecting to fuck you.
“Why?” he stares at you confused.
“I didn’t expect fucking to be on the itinerary.”
Oh yeah, you laugh at himself.
“Do you?”
“Nope. Why would I have them.” He just shrugs his shoulders.
He’s gonna lose it. “Are you on the pill?” it’s his only option.
That’s when you shake your head. “Got off when we broke up.”
Okay so what is he gonna do, his cock hard and your cunt right in front of him.
“Jungkook come on you can pull out.” You whine pulling him forward.
She shakes his head. “god no. I almost lost my mind from your hand. It’d lose it in your pussy.” You smile, you shouldn’t be laughing cause you won’t be able to fuck. But you just can’t help but smile at the fact that he almost lost himself just from your hand. You’ve got no clue on what to do. You really need to fuck him.
“Wait--” he looks at you. “This is a lover’s cabin.” You say but he waits for you to elaborate and make sense.
“wouldn’t they have condoms in the cupboard or something.” He didn’t think of that.
So, as you stand you walk over to the cupboard roughly open it almost tipping it over. “Bingo!” you celebrate pulling out a long string of condoms. Your saving grace.
You carefully pull out one and toss it to jungkook.
“Relax aren’t they the one’s you usually use,” you say when you see the look on his face. They do look like they’ve just been purchased and placed. He’s so thankful right now. He leans against the head board and you watch how he gracefully he strokes himself and slips it on, your mouth drools but you’re too needy. You’ll do that another day.
“Come ride cow girl.” He welcomes you when he’s all done. You stretch your legs over him, centering yourself. His hands are quick to spread across your ass, landing a light tap.
He helps you centre himself at your entrance. His brows scrunch together when he feels your tight warmth slide down him. he definitely isn’t going to last long, maybe he’ll hold on till you come but after that is not promised.
His hand loosely holds at your throat, just enough to tilt it back slightly and leave wet kisses and marks everywhere on your skin.
You sliding up and down him feels great but he couldn’t help himself but move his fingers to touch your clit. In pure pleasure you’re wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. you love this position, how he nudges at your back, how intimate it feels, the way you’re so close after being so far away. The cold is barely in mind. Jungkook can’t express how much he’s missed you.
You love it.
But what you love more is how he pulls at your hair, just softly. “Love fucking my cock huh?” he asks but you’re unable to answer his hips jutting up into you with great speed. Jungkook could get carried away with the way your boob bounce but he chooses to say focus. “You like that huh?” he smirks but your eyes are closed, the pleasure of his intense strokes taking you out.
“Yeah, love fucking you kook.” You whimper out.
He’s thrusting harder and you’re moaning louder. “you look so pretty taking me baby. Wanna fuck you forever.”
You wish you.
Your body melts into his as you’re coming again, jungkook fucking into you for his own high which follows after yours. When he catches his breath, he’s laying you down and beside you just after throwing the filled condom.
“I’m gonna get the bath started.” He says planting a quick kiss on your shoulder.
You’re too drained to stand so when he’s back to come get you you’re dozing off. “come on baby I’ve got to get you cleaned up.”
You groan. “Then after a I can make you cocoa.”
“I’m so tired kook.” You whine.
“I knowww.” he coos. Next thing you know he’s lifting you, bridal style. “it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“Hmm. Don’t move.” Jungkook whines when you threaten to stand and start your day. You two have already slept in because of your late-night endeavours.
“I have to kook. We have so much for our day.”
“Ugh! Fine. But first give me your hand.” He demands the action has you confused but you give it to him. when he has it, he’s giving you a billion kisses. “I love you.” He doesn’t think it’s too soon cause—well he doesn’t know it just felt right to say.
“I love you too now let me go.” He makes sure not to unhand you until you say it more ‘meaningfully’ according to him.
---
You and jungkook decided to retry ice skating (you were hell bent on not going skiing.)
As you’re skating jungkook slides to the half wall, after telling you he has to take a call. You shoo him away after telling you’ll be fine alone (for the meantime).
“Any news?” jungkook was nervous when he got the call from Namjoon. This is a very important call from him, it determines what the hell he’s gonna choose. Quit or get transferred.
“Yeah. it’s been approved.” Jungkook is still for a moment.
“Seriously?” it almost feels like a dream.
“Yeah, had to do a lot of convincing but they agreed.” He’s so grateful for Namjoon. He’s gonna miss him. Jungkook looks over to you, gliding not great but better, and you’re smiling this time. So, he’s happy. You’re happy.
“Thank you, man,”
Namjoon smiles, he knows how much this means. “No problem.” The call cuts.
This just seals a lot “kook look out.” He pockets his phone and as he’s turning to you, you slam into him. You haven’t gotten to the knowing how to stop just yet. Maybe next time.
“You okay, baby.” He says holding onto you by your waist
You let out a dramatic breath that has him smiling. “Yeah, but I’m getting kinda tired.” You say out of breath and letting your weight fall into his arms.
“I’m getting hungry too.” You’ve spent a good amount of time ice skating so you decide to leave it for next time.
--
“what’s the plan for tonight.” He asks as you eat.
“Hmm. For the first time I don’t know.” You both laugh. “We could go out for dinner—ohhh the hot tub--.” You forgot about it cause none of you ever wanted to use it, honestly you didn’t even expect the place to have a hot tub.
“I like the sound of that.”

The steam of the hot tub hovers lazily on the surface of the water. The steam curls around jungkook as his gaze locks on you. Body dry cause you haven’t gotten in yet. You walk onto the deck, the dim but still bright enough lights radiant off your skin, as though the sun has come to pay him a visit at night.
His breath is caught.
The bikini hugs you in all the ways that made his thoughts falter, the curves of your body illuminated by the soft glow of the light. He swallows hard, his mouth dry despite being surround by water. You make him weak, so much that he looks only at you, even though your attention is else were. You try to find a place to hook your towels.
And then you turn around to smile at him in victory of finding a place to hang them. He nods acknowledging but no paying attention.
He leans back slightly, the water lapping at his shoulders as his eyes roam you, mesmerized. There’s some thing unworldly about you, something he can’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the way you looked, that made him trip for you. It was the way you carried yourself, the way your body swayed as you moved closer to him.
His arms immediately reach out to envelope you. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice relaxing into the tub and his warmth.
The chuckle he releases is low, “you know I am.”
Your giggle like a melody. You wrap your arms around him and he loses his stability for a second before regaining it. “careful.” He murmurs to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I might drown.”
“I wouldn’t want that.” you peck his lips.
You relax for a while just taking in the night and each other presence.
Jungkook has been meaning to ask, the question eating at his mind. “Do you want to go back to Korea with me?” it sounds like a dumb question, you came together so you will be leaving together.
But the double meaning lies within and he’s desperate to know your answer.
“What are you saying?” you coo at him. “Aren’t we already going back together.” You’re talking about the tangible stuff, the tickets, the plane, the flying, even the landing and going home. But he doesn’t mean that.
After pecking your shoulder water sticking to his lips, he explains. “I don’t mean physically.”
You stare down at him eyes softening. “kook” you realize the seriousness of his question. And for a second jungkook senses scepticism. So, he panics.
“If it’s bout my job, I’m working on it.” His voice is quick.
That was a fear of yours, even more that he wouldn’t want to move. Jungkook has thought about it, the move was a rush decision he never spoke to anyone about it to ask their opinion or whatever. And honestly the move didn’t bring him much joy, besides the opportunity to adventure Jeju. But apart from that he was away from his family, his friends and you. Everything that made his life.
“Seriously?” you say more shocked than anything else.
“Yeah, Namjoon called me. My transfer got approved.”
You gasp the water swashing from your movement. “don’t lie to me”
He laughs. “I’m not.”
“I thought you said getting it approved is hard.” You’re finding this so hard to believe.
“It is, I guess I got lucky.”
You squeal moving in to hug him.
“When did you start all this.” It’s along process so he had to start early.
“Honestly before we broke up. I wanted to surprise you if it got approved. But then-” you shush him from going on further.
“So, what would have you done if it didn’t get approved.” Your tone drops.
Jungkook sighs looking around in thought. “would’ve fucking quit.” it’s funny how easy the idea is for him, former him would have struggled with the question. “I’m tired of being so far from you.”
“Same.” He places a longer and soft kiss on your lips.
“So, you wanna go back with me?” His voice is playful, as he looks up at you through wet lashes.
“Mhm.” You smile, leaning slightly closer to him, your fingertips tracing lazy circles on his shoulder. “I wanna go everywhere with you.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, warm and intimate, as his lips lifts into a small, boyish grin. “We can arrange that.”
Jungkook doesn’t mind being patched to your side like a little purse dog. In fact, the way he leans into you now, his hand slipping around your waist as if it were second nature, says he’d prefer it. His thumb grazes your hip absentmindedly, a small gesture that feels both possessive and endearing.

“I’m gonna miss it.” you say leaning into Jungkook's shoulder with a pout. You wait patiently for your flight. “Feels like we just started the trip.”
Jungkook reaches over to cup your hand in his. He then interlocks your fingers and brings it to his lips; the action causes you to smile softly. He really likes to do that. It’d never been a trait of his before, so you’re intrigued, to why he does it all of a sudden. “We can come back one day. together.”
“Yeah together.” You reassure. You like this. Like having him with you.

[3 months later]
“Jimin if you’re gonna wear that to my fucking wedding you’re not coming.” You announce to a jimin too focused on the light blue suit he’s in. in the mirror you can spot his cheeky grin. He’s not gonna wear a freaking light blue suit, it’s not on the colour scheme, plus he doesn’t like how it makes him look.
He turns to look at jungkook who’s standing on his own pedestal looking into the mirror. Touching and teasing at the suit. “Jungkook you’re not gonna let her do that right?.” Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders at jimin. He’s not pleased with the answer. He knew the dude was down bad, but not this down bad. “Bro!”
“she’s the boss.” Jungkook raises his hands in surrender and you smirk in your seat.
“Come on man…standup.” he fists at Jungkook who just laughs. As Jimin is stepping out to get out of the suit (he stayed so long in it you thought he might actually want to wear it.) and get changed, you swat him with a magazine and he’s quick to running out not wanting you to land another hit.
Now alone in the dressing room you walk up to jungkook. You lean your chin on his shoulder, your hands finding there way to his chest. He welcomes them with his own. “You look so handsome.” Your voices hums sweetly by his ear. Jungkook lifts up both of your hands to place soft and warm kisses on them. The action has you blushing red. The ring on your finger and indication of why he liked to do it before. Plus, now, he just enjoys it., it makes you blush and he likes that.
“Mhm.” He hums against your wrists. “You like it?”
“I love it.” You take a hundredth glance at a preview of what he might wear at your wedding. If he chooses it’s what he wants. You love the cut on him. the colour complimenting his skin, and the style shows off his physique, not too much, but not too little. But all the buttons on the vest and shirt are gonna give you some trouble undoing.
Jungkook stares at you completely enamoured at the way you’re looking at it. You should be looking at him like that. “I think you might love the suit more than me.” He turns abruptly causing you to fall into his chest. He catches and keeps you stable with his firm hand on your lower back.
You place one hand on his chest and the other around his neck, bringing you much closer. “I might just.” Your lips could meet easily with how close you are. But you don’t move them and jungkook pouts at how you deny him the opportunity.
“I’m gonna take it off, not gonna let you love it more.” He nudges his nose with yours.
“Take it off.”
“Jeon Yn! I forgot how freaky you are.” You roll your eyes at how he’s already given you his last name, you like the sound of it though. Reminds you of how real this is, you’re not dreaming.
Trying to tease him more you move by his ear to whisper, “Not here though.”
Jungkook is biting his lower lip. “We should hurry then.” he moves to kiss your shoulder, your off-the-shoulder top giving him leeway to kiss your skin directly. He peppers more kisses from your shoulder to your neck before you get carried away you’re prompting for him to turn around. He does, though reluctantly.
You giggle.
“Do you like it though?” your voice turns serious, as much as you like it and how you just want to see him in it the whole day. If he likes it matters.
“Yeah, it makes me look so…husband.” He smiles boyishly as he winks at you in the mirror.
“Oh-gosh.” You push yourself away from him to get back to your seat. You’re not gonna be here all day.
He turns to face you. Still standing on the pedestal. “When do I get to see you in your dress” His teeth play with his lip ring as he asks curiously. The thought of you in the gown exciting him.
“When I walk down the aisle.” You stare blankly, no room for discussion. And he doesn’t, you’ve been quite stern about him not seeing you in any bridal wear until the wedding. Which he doesn’t mind, he can wait.
“Make sure it’s a ball gown so that I can slip under and hide.” He gestures his hands to elaborate what he means.
You shake your head. It’s not your style, maybe when you were a child, but you’ve grown. “I’m not wearing a ball gown.”
Ditching the jacket, he places it next to you and stands closing your legs between his. He lowers himself so your nose is touching his. His arms trap you between him and the couch. You didn’t think he was not gonna get that kiss right? He kisses you softly, then again. Then a little harder the third time, this one lasting seconds longer. You hold on his waist for stability. He kisses you once more just for the sake.
“I’m very sure you’ll look divine in whatever you pick, baby.”

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A/N: so that's that. I hope I've fixed your broken heart from I-redo. there are scenes that i couldn't fit in. Yes of course there are other activities they did, but if i wrote it all it would be boring and too long and would probably be pushed to next month. i wish i could've written more fluff but idk.
i will allow for story drabble request if you guys want that.
but yeah thanks, for reading, liking and commenting. much love. wishing you a happy new year.
story idea copyright of keen-li, 30.12.24
#fanfic#jungkook x reader#jeon jungguk#jungkook x y/n#jungkook#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook fanfic#keen li#keenli updates#kpop fanfic#Namjoon#jungkook scenarios#bts jungkook#jungkook bts#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#bangtan#jungkook smut#jeongguk smut#jeongguk#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk fic#Fic:Merry!Ex-mas
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Another load of Jealousy - Yunho x f!reader



Summary: Yunho isn't about to even entertain the idea of his girlfriend talking to another man. It doesn't matter how many loads of love, care, and cum it takes to make her remember that she is his and he is hers. Genre: smut (mdni!!!) Pairings: bf!Yunho x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT MDNI, mean dom!yunho (kinda sweet after some time), sub!reader, fingering(?), penetration, unprotected sex, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, choking, bulge (lmk if something is missing, I have never done this) A/N: This is the 3rd smut I've ever written in my life... I haven't posted the first two since they were written a couple years ago and were bad, so I hope this is worth posting. The plot isn't anything great because this was mostly for trying to see what it's like to write smut and I didn't want to waste a good plot on this if this turned out bad LOLLL. So please, keep in mind that I've almost never written smut! Word count: 2 300 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If someone asked you if you loved Yunho, you’d answer ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. He was more than just a lover or a boyfriend; he was your worshipper, kissing the ground you walked on. And if someone asked you if you’d ever cheat on him, you’d give a firm ‘no’ and tell the person off. Although you wanted to make it clear to everyone you were Yunho’s girl because you loved him, it wasn’t the only reason to push people away. You’d be in big trouble if he started to consider the possibility of you holding affectionate feelings for anyone else than him.
“Baby, what are you doing? ~”
Despite Yunho’s needy tone and presence next to you on the couch, you couldn’t tear your gaze off of your phone.
“Wait a second, Yuyu,” you murmured.
He watched as your fingers tap-danced on the small screen, obviously writing a message to someone. Someone who was robbing him of your attention. Your eyes reflected the light coming from the phone screen but Yunho’s eyes shone with something else. He was getting frustrated.
“Please, I’m lonely,” he whined, his hand creeping up on your thigh, trying to go unnoticed yet wanting desperately for you to pay attention to him.
Still, you didn’t even glance at him. It was subtle but Yunho noticed how you tried to hide your phone screen, leaning away ever so slightly.
The longer your attention was on the mysterious person you were talking to, the angrier Yunho became.
You felt him squeeze your thigh, silently demanding you to finally look at him in the eyes. It was a final warning. Only when his long fingers dug onto your inner thigh, you turned to face him.
“Who are you talking to?”
Yunho’s icy voice shouldn’t have surprised you – this was nothing new, given his possessive nature. And like always, while it made you nervous, it also caused your pussy to clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but get horny when he looked like he’d devour you any second now.
“Just work stuff,” you murmured, taking a glance at his hand. No matter how many times his beautiful fingers had been inside you, reaching the deepest, sweetest spots, you just couldn’t get enough.
“At this hour? That’s bullshit.”
While Yunho’s eyes were cold, they were undeniably burning with both fury and lust. You knew the look way too well just like he knew your body.
“I’m friends with him so I feel comfortable texting him even in the evening. It’s just about a work project.”
“Him?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed.
You were too nervous to break eye contact with him, but you didn’t need to see to feel his hand hover over your core, so close but so far. Even though he was barely touching you, he was probably able to feel how your wetness seeped through your night shorts.
“Please, Yunho... Don’t tease me,” you let out a quiet whine, hoping it’d persuade Yunho into touching you.
Immediately, he pulled you roughly into a kiss. In a normal situation he would have kept you begging for him, but right now his desire and anger towards you were too much to handle for both of you. His lips claimed yours and showed no mercy or signs of going easy on you. You were enthusiastic to kiss him back, but his need to have you was even stronger.
The way he started nearly biting on your lips would have soon left bruises, if you hadn’t pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily after the intense moment, but Yunho wasted no time in trying to rest.
“Who is that coworker? A friend you say?”
You felt your pussy get wetter by his demanding words and you tried your best to give him an answer – one that would satisfy him enough yet encourage him to fuck you senseless.
“We’re not close, but enough to be considered friends-! Yunho!..”
He interrupted you with his fingers suddenly under your clothing, circling your clit.
“What do you need friends for when I’m here? Don’t I give you all you need?”
You squirmed around at the movements of Yunho’s skillful hands. It was hard not to feel even slightly embarrassed; you didn’t want him to know how aroused his possessiveness made you.
“Y-You can’t do work projects for me... I need him.”
Your choice of words pushed the wrong buttons in Yunho, and he took his hand out of your panties. He didn’t care when you whined at the loss of contact, just pure jealousy burning in his eyes.
“You say you need him? Baby, I’m all you need,” his voice was low and dangerous, “There’s nothing and no-one else.”
It didn’t take long for him to have dragged you into the bedroom, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a bruising grip. You tried to savor every moment despite knowing there were more to come after this.
The streetlights outside were the only source of light in your dim bedroom. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but apparently Yunho saw well enough to push you onto the bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have cared anyways if he had pushed you accidentally on the floor. Whenever he got like this, satisfying his need to claim you was the top priority.
“Strip.”
You immediately started taking off your nightwear which you had just changed to after shower. Your hair was still damp and smelling like your shampoo. It was definite you’d have to take a shower again after this – preferably with Yunho.
“You’re too slow,” he scolded. The way he started pulling your shorts and panties off was surprisingly gentle; even though he was mad at you, he was still your mere worshipper and saw you as his goddess.
Finally, when you saw him properly, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t standing, just on his knees on the bed, but his height was still intimidating. You loved it though. You loved every moment of this, and your pussy throbbed with desire to have him fill you up to the brim.
His chest was heaving with anticipation, and although seeing it bare always excited you, your eyes were fixated on that cock of his.
“I-It’s bigger than I remembered...”
“You’re going to take it nonetheless. You don’t deserve this after how you’ve acted but I need this now,” Yunho stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
You felt like a prey, his next meal, as you watched him crawl closer on the bed and lay you down rather harshly. The intense eye contact just added to the arousal you felt leaking out of you. You needed him so bad, and your legs spread open automatically to give him way to your core that was aching for him.
“You need a damn reminder every week of who you belong to. I don’t know if I want you to stop teasing me like that or not,” Yunho whispered, his right hand finding its way to your neck, “At least I get to fuck you like this.”
He turned your gaze back up to him by gripping your neck, when you tried to look at his cock. You managed to see how its tip was covered in clear precum. It was as hard as it always was when you had moments like this, if not even harder. You wondered how it had ever managed to fit inside you with the impressive girth and length.
“Look at me in the eyes. I want you to look at me clearly so you’ll remember my face every time you talk to another man.”
You didn’t have time to process Yunho’s words. As he pushed his cock inside you, it was impossible to think about anything else than him. Although you were as wet as ever for him, it was still almost hard to take him in. No matter how many times he had made love to or fucked you, no matter how fast and rough or slow and romantic, he stretched you up nicely every time.
“My girl. My baby,” Yunho muttered more to himself than to you. His hips had started moving some time ago already, but only now you were coming down back to Earth.
His hand was on your neck like to use it to support himself, but the grip was still somewhat gentle. It tightened every time he thrusted in, and the lack of air just made you lose your mind in the pleasure even more.
Your walls were slippery and starting to adjust to his size, so he slid inside with ease. It didn’t mean there was no delicious friction left though.
“Who do you belong to? Him or me?” he growled into your ear. Although the pace of his hips had grown faster, he made sure to push deep inside you, drawing out every moan he could get from you.
Your attempt to answer was cut off quickly as Yunho’s hands started squeezing your throat. It would have been hard to breathe even if you weren’t breathless already from having him ram your insides.
“Answer me. A little choking shouldn’t shut you up like this.”
Again, you tried to tell Yunho that you were only his to love, fuck, and take care of. But he held your throat tighter again, clearly teasing you. It was impossible to win this game, and you loved it that way.
A mocking smirk spread on Yunho’s lips, “You don’t have to say it. I know you’re mine by the way I’m the only who ever gets to be balls deep inside you.”
He released your neck and pressed his hand lightly on your lower stomach. It was no secret that your boyfriend’s cock was big, but the way you could see a clear bulge, the way your lower abdomen moved up and down with Yunho’s thrusts, made you clench down on him.
“F-Fuck... You make it so hard to stay mad at you,” he groaned out.
You watched his eyebrows furrow as if he was holding back. Finally, you had been able to catch your breath, although it was still difficult due to his relentless thrusts.
“I love you. I’m yours, Yunho...”
Your pleasured admission not only softened his heart a bit but made him even more lustful. He knew you were his. If you tried to leave him, he’d find a way to make you stay – even with force if necessary. But hearing you say out loud once again that you were his satisfied him.
“I know. I know, my pretty girl, and I love you too,” his eyes met yours in a gentle way even.
A loud moan slipped past your lips as Yunho’s fingers found your clit, finally continuing what he had started on the couch in the living room. Circling, pressing, and pinching on it – he did it all. Your sensitive skin tingled and almost felt like on fire.
“W-Will you fill me up?” you grasped at the sheets under you, making them all rumpled and look unkempt. They were dirty anyways due to the sweating.
Yunho moved your hands on his shoulders. There was nothing more that he wanted than to see your nail scrapes on his skin, a mark of who he belonged to.
“I’ll fill you up, baby. My cum will be leaking out,” he looked at you before turning his eyes to his cock, slightly amused, “I’ll just fuck a new load tomorrow then. You’ll have my babies in no time.”
His talk about breeding you brought you closer to your release, and he definitely noticed it by the way your pussy squeezed his thick cock.
“Look at your pussy, how it’s clenching down on me. It likes to be bred, huh?”
“Yunho, I-I'm close... so close,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders like they were your savior. But you knew nothing could save you from the climax you were reaching quickly.
Yunho smiled down at you a bit cockily, “Have I made clear who you belong to?”
“Yes!” you whined, thighs trembling.
“And who do you belong to, baby?”
If you weren’t in such a state of mind-blowing pleasure, you could have teased him on purpose and said the name of your coworker. However, now that you were so close to coming, you couldn’t ruin this.
“You! You, Yunho!..”
A genuine, sweet smile tugged the corners of his lips slightly upwards. By looking at his furrowed eyebrows, it was clear he was holding back as well, near to orgasm but fighting back for your sake.
And Yunho knew your body so well, that he recognized your sounds of enjoyment and body language, so that just when you reached the peak, he closed the distance between your lips. Your cries of pure pleasure were muffled by his mouth.
His body shook and it didn’t take long for him to go over the edge, to let out a few stifled groans. Hot cum spurted out inside you, filling you just like Yunho had promised.
“So, you’re going to block that man’s number, right?” Yunho mumbled, his head lying down on your chest. He could hear your heart beating rapidly after the intense session but eventually calming down to steady, slow beats.
You chuckled, caressing his hair slightly damp from the sweat, “I can’t block my coworker’s number.”
A surprised and disappointed whine fell past your lips as Yunho got up and pulled his now softened cock out of you. He looked down at your pussy, watching with glee how his fresh cum leaked out. There was a lot of it still inside you, but it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was ever enough for him when it came to you.
“I guess you can take another load then.”
#kpop fanfic#kpop x reader#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#jeong yunho x reader#jeong yunho#jeong yunho smut#ateez smut#ateez x y/n#ateez x female reader#ateez x you#ateez hard thoughts#ateez hard hours#yunho x reader#yunho smut#ateez yunho#yunho hard thoughts#yunho hard hours#yunho ateez
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How i mastered the art of persisting & how yall can too
hello my luvs, lemme tell u, its been a rlly eventful last 2 weeks in terms of me undergo a drastic shift in my mindset and WHEWWWWW, i thought it was time to share with yall
storytime
this past year i told myself i would adopt a strict mental diet where i wouldn't let doubts stop me or anything and lemme tell you, it was such a rocky road. There would be periods of me affirming that i was a master shifter, seek validation from the 3D and then start dwelling in my old state again. This cycle of giving up continued until i came across these posts. I then deeped how i've been overcomplicating manifesting & shifting to the point where i would give up so easily on my new states because "persisting was too hard” when it rlly wasn't. Anyways, lemme share my favourite tips & advice i learnt.
THE ADVICE & TIPS
stop associating emotions w/ states
Once i stopped associating me doubting, being frustrated, etc with my state, i found stuff x10000 EASIER!! I be affirming when i'm sad/frustrated because my emotions do NAWT define me. If something happens in my life, i allow myself to acknowledge it then i affirm on loop that "everything gets better" and the very fact i am a master manifestor.
manifesting will exist whether u like it or not
whenever i feel like "giving up", i remember that no matter if i "give up" on my desires or not, the law of assumption will still operate in the same principle of dominant thoughts materialising ur reality. So that really made me think, why would i not take advantage of knowing about the loa and manifesting everything i want? Like once you find out about the law of assumption, there is no turning back so u might aswell utilise it.
you can never lose your "manifestation powers"
Sometimes i be having thoughts "what if i lose my manifestation powers" and its like?? i will always be able to manifest easily & so will you. You can never "lose" the ability to manifest. Its a LAW. Meaning you will always be able to do it
pick a staple affirmation & loop it no matter what
After utilising robotic affirming, i've felt so much more FULFILLED then i ever did. Trust me when i say, pick one affirmation (e.g. "i am a master shifter") and keep affirming through your doubts, random thoughts, etc. Litreally when you deep it, affirming is basically thinking and thinking is super duper easy. So picking one affirmation and continuously repeating it is so easy even when you feel like your having sm doubts (trust me, once u get in the habit of js affirming, things feel sm easier).
you don't need to believe to manifest
Before some of yall come at me, lemme tell yall something. When i got more serious about the loa this year, i overconsumed a sh!t ton of loa content stating in order to manifest your desires and it made me feel so frustrated whenever i felt doubts/overwhelmed when affirming for my desire. The belief bit will follow natrually while persisting, dont focus on beliving in ur manifestation, keep repeating you have it & your belief of it will feel more natrual as you keep repeating it (if that makes sense)
the 3D isn't the end, keep persisting
I made a post about this but to keep it short & simple, your 3D circumstances aren't permanent. Just because you may be experiencing the opposite of what you want in the 3D, doesn't mean it will stay like that forever and your manifestation "won't work". Keep affirming bb <3
okie that's it for the post <3 i'll probs make a pt2 if i got anymore advice?? but hope yall liked it ;3
#loassblog#loassumption#shifting blog#shifting community#desired reality#reality shifting#shifters#shifting antis dni#law of assumption#dolliecoded
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safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]


synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.
word count: 5.4k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey
a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333
this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here
. . .
Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.
This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.
Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.
She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.
Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.
Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”
Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.
“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.
“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.
“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”
“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”
“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”
His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”
“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”
Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”
“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ��bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?
“Harry, you don’t have to—”
“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”
“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”
Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe.
. . .
Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother.
“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.
“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.
“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.
Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”
Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.
“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”
Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”
Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”
Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.
“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.
“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”
She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”
Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”
Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm.
“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”
“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”
“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”
“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”
Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.
“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.
“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.
“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.
Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”
“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said.
“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.
They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.
“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”
Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”
“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”
“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.
A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.
“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.
Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”
Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”
“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.
“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.
“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.
“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.
Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”
“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”
Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”
Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”
“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.
“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.
“Better.”
“Ice cream?”
Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”
Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.
Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.
Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.
Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.
“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”
Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”
Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.
Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
. . .
"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.
"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"
Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.
Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.
Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."
Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.
Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"
"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"
Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.
"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"
She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."
"I do that?" she asked, surprised.
"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."
"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.
"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."
Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"
"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."
Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.
She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.
That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"
Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.
Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.
. . .
Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.
She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.
Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x
A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.
She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.
Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕
Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.
She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.
Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.
“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.
You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.
Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.
Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x
Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x
Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday
Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage.
Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.
She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.
“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.
She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”
The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”
“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.
Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear.
The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.
As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.
When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.
Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.
“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”
Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”
Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.
“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.”
Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”
Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”
Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good.
“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.”
. . .
Y/N liked Lindsey a lot.
She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.
Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.
Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.
“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.
She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”
Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.
“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”
“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.
“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”
Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.
As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.
In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.
““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”
Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.
“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.
“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.
Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”
Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.
Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”
“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.
“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.
Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.
Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.
Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.
She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.
Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”
“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”
“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.
Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.
A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”
“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”
“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.
“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers.
“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.
“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”
“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.
“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.
A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”
“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.
Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.
. . .
Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”
“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer.
“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”
“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house.
“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?”
“Y-Yeah, I think so.”
“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”
She smiled, “I’d like that.”
“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”
“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.
Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.
Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing
Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!
Harry: Can’t help it Bambi
Harry: I’m obsessed with you
. . .
taglist ~~
@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#bambi#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#harry styles writing#fanfiction#ceo!harrystyles#ceoharry#shy!reader#fic rec
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an iron man | oneshot



pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.
genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)
warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)
smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu
word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)
notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg
beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent to the highest bidder of the night.
he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.
it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.
“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what…?
he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.
“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.
“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously.
“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.
“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try.
“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this?
“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip.
“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.
“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.
genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control.
he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone.
it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.
“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.
“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.
“yes,” he feebly answers.
“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.
“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.
“are androids supposed to feel things like that?”
“... no,” he replies after a pause.
“then why can you?”
“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere.
“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.
“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.
“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.”
“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave.
he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.
“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms.
“good morning,” he replies.
“are you ready to be returned?” you ask.
“... yes,” he lies.
“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?”
“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.
“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod.
things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.
“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence.
“y-yeah,” he replies.
“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.
“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave.
“... good—” and the man switches him off.
-
the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.
“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight.
“i didn’t catch your name,” you add.
“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.
“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie.
“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise.
“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?”
“‘m fine,” he replies.
“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.”
“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.
“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.”
when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt.
“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.
he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.
“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?
“s-sorry, i —”
“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.
you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses.
it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly.
the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.
“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.
“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.
“don’t understand what?”
“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says.
“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.
“even if they’re that different?”
“of course.”
-
beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you.
one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question.
“can i ask you something?”
“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.
“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it.
“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.
“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.
“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough?
the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest.
still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu.
“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?”
“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out.
“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special.
and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes.
as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.
“let me do it,” he says.
“do you know how?”
“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.
“... okay.”
you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.
but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.
“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.
“beoms?”
“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”.
“you do?” he asks excitedly.
“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it.
“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.
“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.
“oh,” is all he can say.
-
days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought.
he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would.
“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask.
“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.
“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.”
“soobin’s?”
“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him.
“you’re staying the night with him?”
“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you.
“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends.
but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:
"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you
but now i don’t care
i could go anywhere with you
and i’d probably be happy"
he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches.
yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does.
and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.
he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway.
“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.
“mhm,” he replies.
“yay! thank you!” you say giddily.
“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.
“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.
“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest.
“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.
you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.
he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other.
“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.
eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.
immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home.
-
soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting.
“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold.
“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch.
“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?”
“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.
“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?”
you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious.
“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.
“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.
“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.”
“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?”
“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know.
“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.
“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks.
“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye.
“wait! i think you should —”
“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway.
-
when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.
“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him.
“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.
“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling.
“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks.
“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.
-
gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little.
“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset.
“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.
“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts.
“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.
“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.
“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.
“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —”
“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks.
he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.
after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.
“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?
“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.
“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions.
“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”
“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still.
“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.
-
work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you.
you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.
when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.
so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about.
“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.
“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.
after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.
“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.
“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.
“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet.
“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —”
“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”
you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet.
“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.
“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.
“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk.
that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor.
“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”
“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.
“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.
“are you sure?” you ask.
“i’m sure.”
it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again.
-
the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:
“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.
“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.
“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —”
“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.
“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.
“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods.
“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.
“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.
“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”
“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”
“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms.
“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”
“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.
-
sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you.
-
soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest.
when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable.
“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.
“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily.
“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.
“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.
“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.
everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long.
clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.
you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation.
he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it.
soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory.
soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.
“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.
“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this.
“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can.
before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century.
“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.
“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.
“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort.
“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly.
“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart.
“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod.
“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.
that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.
as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it.
soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home
you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you?
you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.
“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.
“we have to talk about beomgyu.”
“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.
“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.
“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.
“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.
“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —”
“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?”
“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.”
“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.”
“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic?
“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you.
“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated.
“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye.
“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.
you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.
“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.”
“w-what? no, i —”
“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —”
“beomgyu.”
“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —”
“beomgyu, stop it,” you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue.
“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.”
“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.
“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes.
“beoms?” you carefully try.
“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues.
“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not.
the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him.
you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you?
your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.
“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth.
“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.
“i just… it’s just not something that i can —”
“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing.
“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.
“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads.
“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.
“and what about me?”
“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —”
“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.
“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —”
“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.
“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment.
you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.
“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you.
you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider.
“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.
you pause before you tell him:
“i love you, too, beoms.”
-
that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:
“to die by your side
is such a heavenly way to die
to die by your side, well
the pleasure, the privilege is mine”
notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!
you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot.
you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow.
you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are.
you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing.
his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours.
your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks.
“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment.
“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu.
“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.
“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.
you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree.
the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.
when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you.
“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern.
“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you.
“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.
“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters.
“oh, baby, why?” you ask.
“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”
“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods.
“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.”
“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues.
“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.
“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod.
“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.
you pull away again and rest your forehead against his.
“better?” you question.
“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core.
“better?” you ask again.
“m-more,” he pants.
“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy.
you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle.
“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.
you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat.
“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do.
“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.
“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra.
his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun.
you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.
he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come.
“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan.
eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock.
“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars.
“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.
“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”
“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him.
“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.
“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust.
“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance.
“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him.
“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin.
“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words.
“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters.
“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.”
“w-what do you —”
and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth.
“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no.
“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip.
he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come.
“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.
“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.”
“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out.
“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery.
“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.
“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.
the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.
“does it feel good, beoms?”
“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat.
“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open.
he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst.
“gonna come!” you whine.
“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.
“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.
“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.
you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy.
“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”
“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.
notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry
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i would be really interested in hearing your personal (or professional ig?) welfare opinion on the munchkin as a breed. i've seen people argue both ways... "we have dachshunds, theyve been an established breed for hundreds of years and they're doing fine!" vs "the amount of restriction it provides to a cat's ability to Cat:tm: is far worse than what a dachshund suffers to its ability to Dog:tm:" ive never met a munchkin or had a chance to observe whether its quality of life is equivalent to a regular cat. so if you have any insight to share i would enjoy hearing it!
ok, aesthetically? Munchkins are really, REALLY fucking cute. They hit me right in the cute. Their wee little stubby legs, their tiny little ears, their big ol' eyes, the round face; everything about them just appeals to me in a major way.
BUT I do not think they should exist as a breed. I do not think they are ethical to breed. They tend to develop arthritis at a young age because their body type puts more weight onto their short front legs, they tend to have more problems grooming themselves, they tend to have back problems, and they can't jump as well. Their ability to cat is inherently limited and I don't like that. I think a cat breed should be able to Cat effectively.
This is compounded because the breeds most popular for Munchkinizing tend to be brachy breeds. Both of the munchkins I currently look after are Persian Munchkins (called a Minuet or Napoleon), so they've got the added problem of these luxurious thick coats that they can't maintain and very short faces. Both munchkins also have a specific deformation called 'funnel chest' (more properly called pectus excavatum). It's when the ribs and the sternum don't develop properly, which leads to breathing problems.
Granted, their faces aren't as brachy as some of the persians I've looked after, but still. I don't think we should add MORE problems to an already problematic breed.
Overall, I do not approve of munchkins as a breed.
#ethics of breeding#munchkin#i also don't think dachshunds should be bred to be as extreme as they are#i think dogs should be able to jump off of furniture#without the risk of breaking their spine
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