#i played it late in the day too so that's why this is late-ish

[mintjeru]

are you normal or did you note down the puns in the act 1 event quest to compare between localizations

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[gokkyfanboy]

Are All Catholic Schools Weird Or Just Mine? Today’s episode: Why Did They Just Let Me Walk Home With My Teacher??

[cowgirlcherrie]

florist! abby Headcanons ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

a/n: something quick n sweet you knowwwww got this random thought and had to write it I couldn’t resist I couldn’t. I also saw that no one done florist! abby(?) so I wanted to be the first to hop on! plus I missed writing for Abs — my baby, so enjoy ♡

warnings: 18+, MDNI, some fluff, gets smuttier halfway in, strap, blowjob (strap), eating you out, mentions of obsessive behaviors, polaroid nudes-ish, fingering, edging, public-sex-ishh, soft dom! Abby, tatted! Abby. Hinted at smoker Abby if you squint, petnames, fingers in mouth, masturbation, use of the word mommy, use of the word pussy, fem reader.

divider creds here

ೀ florist! Abby wears a basic white cropped t-shirt and black dickies under her beige apron. Her apron has a rainbow flag pin, with black pliers in one pocket. Doc Martins on her feet, tied miserably into a bow, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip around the flower shop. She has a carabiner on her belt loop that jingles every time she walks. 

– apart from smelling like the flowers (obvi bc of where she works) smells like heavy pine and fresh soap, like forget the additives – just clean if ykyk

ೀ florist! Abby gets little patchwork tattoos in random places: a dainty lavender tattoo on her wrist, a little crescent moon behind her ear, paw prints on her bicep for her late dog Alice, a ‘gentle artist’ in bolded times new roman font – but dainty on her forearm. Her knuckles are tatted spelling out “FUCK YOU”.

ೀ florist! Abby that has a ‘Save the Bees!’ sticker on the back of her phone case. Super Bee activist.

ೀ florist! Abby who spends all day in the floral shop, playing music from her playlist on the shop’s aux, slightly swaying to the music as she works on a bouquet. She works with such prestige, god her hands work so quickly at building arrangements but the outcome is so beautiful and that’s why she has many customers. She definitely uses any leftover flowers as bookmarks for her books.

ೀ florist! Abby who’s aux will go from Lauryn Hill to Boy Genius to Mac Miller — she gets compliments on her music taste by customers all the time.

ೀ florist! Abby stops working on a bouquet when you walk into the store because of how confused you look. Wanting to save a damsel in distress. Abby moves from her place at the counter walking over to where you stood looking at the different types of flowers, creeping behind you. You smell divine to her, driving her head crazy knowing that your scent alone will be stuck in her head all day. The floral shop is a slow yet steady business, so Abby definitely doesn’t forget a face or a smell. The form-fitting dress you wore that day, the way your hands bunched at the fabric in confusion had her head spinning!

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Abby whispers from behind you,

Actually scares the living shit out of you when you see her standing behind you, but the way the sun was hitting her face from the big window panels made you less nervous. Rather in awe at the beauty in front of you. Her sunkissed skin, and silky blonde mane, were raveled in a delicate braid with wispies around her face. The raspiness from her voice – which honestly sounded like a smoker's voice now that you thought about it. 

ೀ florist! Abby who makes small talk with you while making your boquette for you (taking her slow sweet time), asking you where you’re from and what you’re doing in town? Absolutely praying that the flowers aren’t for some significant other of yours, Abby letting out an exhale when you say that they’re for your mom who you are visiting for dinner. When you mention you are unsure of what flowers to get don’t worry Abby will help you!

“So pretty girl, are you more minimalistic, talking Lilies, Gardenia’s, Jasmine – which is over there...or colorful? Which I think your beautiful self enjoys a nice Orchid, Camellia, or Begonia?”

Definitely shocks you with how well she knows her stuff

ೀ florist! Abby zones out when you are speaking and stares at your lips for far too long, looking at the way your pink gloss shines wondering how your pretty lips would look taking her strap. Percase covered in spit, from your saliva that has built up from blowing her off. Abby wanted to do nothing more than take the pretty little fabric ribbon from your hair and tie it around your hands as she went down on you while you beg her to touch you in all the right places – it was all a dream to her. Wet dreaming with you right in front of her.

Undeniably horny and touch deprived…she spends so much time in the floral shop she doesn’t have time for dating apps and finds shit like Tinder CORNY LOL. 

Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest not to stare at the way her arms are flexing or how her fingers are paying delicate attention to your bouquet, mentally laughing at the “FUCK YOU” on her knuckles, it contrasted her soft nature so much.

ೀ florist! Abby who slips in a little note into your tote back when you’re not looking, with her number on it, hoping that you would find it and call her soon, Which you do find when you are scrambling for your keys on your way back to the car. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to give the overly, steaming attractive florist a call. 

ೀ florist! Abby when the two of you start dating, she would teach you how to make a bouquet, standing closely behind you – her body right up against your back as you feel her breath tickling your ear as she whispers to you what to do

“Atta girl, look at that my sweet girl – woah! watch your hand there’s a thorn baby.”

Will definitely put her hands over yours as she works with the knife to make sure there isn’t any thorns so you don’t prick yourself. 

ೀ florist! Abby fucking you in the flower shop, when the shop is closed. Having her head in between your thighs, as her jaw slacks – the sound of your juices sloshing against her mouth as she sends hums into your pussy making you let out low mewls. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth but she slaps it away so that she can see you

“Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see you…look at how beautiful you look whining for me doll”

ೀ florist! Abby who kept your lace underwear in her pocket after she fucked you in the floral shop keeping it for safe-keeping (pft…we all know what she is doing with that)

ೀ florist! Abby who shows you her small pocket-sized notebook full of different flowers and arrangement ideas she had. Even the sketches of a flower bouquet that she made inspired by you and all your favorite flowers.

ೀ florist! Abby definitely tucks flowers behind your ears, specifically a white or light-pink Carnation. Especially loves putting one behind your ear as she fucks you with her strap, missionary style so she can see your face – just loves your face honestly. Bending down to kiss your lips, her cheeks dusted red with the pressure she applies.

Tucking her head into your neck swiftly smelling the carnation that she put behind your ear driving her even further insane as she drills into you — makes her go faster.

ೀ When she starts teaching you more about flowers, Definitely uses sexual enforcement to get you to remember it. Will have you sat on her counter as she stands in between your legs – locking you in as she lunges two fingers into you, edging you and not letting you cum until you say the right name of the flower that she taught you. But you could hardly focus staring at her inked knuckles as they pump in and out of you which only makes you reach your climax even further. 

“You wanna come don’t you my sweet girl? I know you want to…just say the name– awh don’t whine at me…I know you know it dollface, I don’t buy that you don’t.”

Sometimes she’ll give you a hint if the flower starts with one of the letters on her knuckles she will stick the corresponding finger into you, working at getting you just about there as her finger curls into you. Your vision is blurry as you can hardly tell what the letter is, moaning out as you try to focus on the order of the letters on her knuckles to catch the hint.

“C’mon baby I’m giving you a hint…pay attention sweetheart– focus!”

ೀ florist! Abby when you get it wrong and she finally lets you come — is fake-mad at you, shoving the lettered finger down your throat as you gag on her fingers covered in your juices.

“Baby the hinted letter was C, and the other finger was U, flower: Curcuma. You’ll get it right next time right sweetheart? You won’t let mommy down hmm?”

ೀ florist! Abby is definitely a soft dom just saying… soft as hell, loves when you hold her – kiss her, and skin-to-skin contact is important as hell she just wants to feel you and loves when you baby her. 

ೀ Definitely keeps a Polaroid of you holding flowers in pink floral lingerie in her beige apron and another one of you in her wallet, that way she has you on her at all times (honestly probably touched herself to blow off some steam after a hard shift while looking at it)

ೀ Depending on how far the relationship goes, especially if y’all start talking marriage will get your favorite flower tatted and not tell you until you see a dainty tattoo of your favorite flower on her collarbone slightly above her heart as she is filling you up, you questioning her in between moans about it.

“Mmhm…fuck is that new? Shit..abbyplease – wait is that my favorite flower?” You ask, as she grinds into you – your finger dragging against the tattoo

“Yes baby, you’re all mine. Mine…mine…mine” As she pounds harder into to you each time she says mine. Obsessive, possessive + territorial, let’s talk about it 

ೀ florist! Abby is overall just a sweetheart who loves you so much and just wants you to be her pretty flower – her muse, you definitely inspire most of her bouquets and she is so happy you ran into her shop looking for flowers that day.

[blingblong55]

Claimed hearts- John Price NSFW

kinktober day 15

Based on a request: Hi! For kinktober, may I please request no.2 (smut)? Queen F!Reader x King!Price - both from different kingdoms was arranged for marriage. Reader was a bit reluctant with the proposition but goes on with it, while it has been Price’s plan all along. A bit of enemy to lovers vibe along side of stalker-ish/obsessed behaviour from Price. Thank you ☺️ ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, power play, queen!reader, king!price, sexual!tension ----

The heavy doors close behind you, and silence drapes the room, thick with tense anticipation. There’s a pause—neither of you moves, though the air between you crackles with something charged, like the stillness before a storm.

Price stands there, impossibly composed, and yet there’s something fierce and raw lurking beneath that calm. His eyes, dark and keen, seem to map out every inch of you, as though assessing how to dismantle your resolve. In his gaze, you sense an intention—a fixation that makes you feel as though he’s not just watching you; he’s unravelling you, piece by piece.

“You can put on a brave face all you want,” he murmurs, taking a deliberate step toward you, “but we both know you’ve already surrendered.”

The words send a flush to your skin, though you narrow your eyes at him. “You think you know me?” you challenge, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays you. “You may have orchestrated this, but I’m no pawn, Price.”

His mouth curves into a slow, infuriating smirk, a look that leaves you teetering between fury and… something else. Something that leaves you breathless, that keeps you frozen as he crosses the remaining distance between you.

“Is that so?” he drawls, his voice dangerously soft. His fingers find a strand of your hair, brushing it aside with a gentleness that feels startlingly out of place. “Because I’d wager that deep down, you wanted this too—whether you’ll admit it or not.”

Your breath hitches as his hand trails, almost possessively, down your jawline. There’s a warmth to his touch that sends heat rushing through you, even as you try to resist it. But he’s close now, and the scent of him—a blend of leather, tobacco, and something unmistakably his—fogs your thoughts, blurring the line between defiance and a gnawing, undeniable pull.

“Tell me, then,” he murmurs, his voice coaxing yet edged with command. “Why did you agree to this marriage? Why did you choose to walk into my hands?”

The question is disarming, but his words are layered with an understanding that cuts through your defences. You open your mouth to respond, but he beats you to it, his voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “Because, my love, you knew this was inevitable. You knew you were mine long before you stepped through those doors.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and the truth of it, spoken so plainly, unsettles you. But there’s no room for denial as he cups your chin, lifting your face to his. The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your lower lip, and his gaze flickers with a restrained hunger that sends your pulse racing.

“You can fight it all you like,” he says softly, “but we both know where this leads.”

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in the faintest ghost of a kiss—a warning and a promise. You’re dizzy with the weight of it, with the way his presence seems to seep into you, claiming parts of you you’d long thought unyielding. His voice, dark and possessive, fills the space between you as he whispers, “I will have you, heart and soul.”

A shiver of anticipation threads through you, and you realize, perhaps too late, that you’re no longer the reluctant bride. Against all odds, he’s drawn you in, ensnared you with a touch, a look, a mere whisper of his intentions. And with his breath hot against your skin, you can almost feel the surrender waiting on your lips.

The silence stretches as he pulls back, his smirk unwavering as his eyes hold yours with an intensity that leaves you weak. And just before he steps away, his voice reaches you, low and unshakable. “You’re mine. Remember that.” Price's words linger in the air, a pronouncement that seems to echo in the stillness of the chamber. Your heart pounds in your ears, a staccato rhythm that matches the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins. For a moment, you're rendered speechless, your mind reeling from the sheer audacity of his declaration.

But you're no stranger to defiance, and as he steps back, you find your voice, though it emerges shakier than you'd like. "I'm no one's," you retort, lifting your chin in a show of stubborn pride. "And I won't be tamed by you or anyone else."

Price's smirk only deepens, a glint of amusement sparking in his eyes. "Still playing the rebel, I see," he remarks, his tone rich with mocking affection. "But we both know that's just a facade, don't we?"

He moves closer again, his presence overwhelming, his scent enveloping you like a heady cloud. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in, the proximity making your senses riot. "You can deny it all you want, but your body tells a different story," he murmurs, his gaze dropping pointedly to your lips.

Your breath catches, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the way your skin tingles wherever he looks, as though his eyes alone can ignite a fire within you. You want to argue, to push him away, but the words stick in your throat as he trails a finger along your jawline, his touch searing.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Price," you manage, though the warning lacks conviction. Your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying the effect he has on you. "One that you might not win."

His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine, and he leans in closer, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "Oh, I don't plan to lose," he breathes, his voice a husky murmur that stirs something deep within you. "And you, my dear, are the prize I intend to claim."

Price's words hang in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once. The space between you feels electric, charged with a tension that threatens to snap at any moment. Your heart races, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leans in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"You think you can claim me so easily?" you breathe, though the defiance in your voice is wavering. His closeness is intoxicating, his presence overwhelming in a way that makes your head spin.

"Oh, I know it won't be easy," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours in a feather-light touch that sends sparks racing through you. "But nothing worth having ever is."

His hand slides up your arm, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You shiver, your breath catching as he cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. The gentleness of his touch belies the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that threatens to consume you whole.

"You can't deny the pull between us," he whispers, his voice low and rough with desire. "I see it in your eyes, feel it in how your body responds to mine."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you in a way that leaves you dizzy with want. You moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more.

His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and valley as he deepens the kiss. You're lost in a haze of sensation, your mind reeling from the intensity of his passion. He breaks away, leaving you panting and flushed, your lips swollen from his attentions.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. "Tell me you're mine, body and soul."

You hesitate momentarily, your pride warring with the desire that courses through your veins. But as he leans in once more, his lips hovering over yours, you know there's no escape.

"I'm yours," you breathe out. The air crackles with electricity as Price's lips claim yours again, his kiss hungry and demanding. His hands roam your body with urgency, mapping every curve and dip as if memorizing your form. You moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You gasp, your head falling back as he marks you, claiming you as his own. His hands slip under your shirt, calloused fingers skimming over your heated flesh, igniting a fire wherever they touch.

"You're so responsive," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You arch into his touch, craving more of his attention. He obliges, sliding your bra straps down your shoulders and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, before taking one nipple into his mouth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he suckles and teases the sensitive bud. His hand massages your other breast, kneading the soft flesh until you're writhing beneath him.

He trails kisses down your stomach, his fingers making quick work of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your slick, glistening folds.

"So wet for me already," he rasps, his fingers parting your folds, teasing your entrance. "I knew you'd be tight, but this…this is unexpected."

He circles your clit with his thumb, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You buck against his hand, desperate for more, but he holds you in place, his grip firm on your hips.

"Patience," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take my time with you, savour every inch of your delicious body."

Price's words send a shiver down your spine, your core clenching with anticipation. He positions himself between your thighs, the heat of his body enveloping you. You reach for him, your hands sliding over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms.

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me."

He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eye as he reaches down, gripping his hard length. He teases your entrance with the head of his cock, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. You moan, your hips lifting in a silent plea for more.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into you, stretching you, filling you in a way you've never experienced before. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he hilts himself inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling forward, resting against yours. "You feel incredible." He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, your walls clenching around him, drawing him deeper. You meet his movements, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer.

The room fills with the sound of skin against skin, the scent of sex mingling with the heady aroma of his cologne. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he drives into you, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear. "Come for me," he growls, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers and the delicious stretch of his length inside you, send you careening over the edge. You come with a cry, your walls clamping down around him, milking his length. He follows you, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you, his seed filling you, marking you as his. You cling to each other, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of your shared release.

Tags: @liyanahelena @ghostslillady @juneonhoth @Simonssweetgirl @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland @nobodys-coffee @sae1kie @anonymuslydumb @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @frazie99 @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @luvecarson @ikohniik @strawberrychita @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

[crushmeeren]

࿐ megumi’s turn! dabi’s version can be found here. again, this is short and sweet so I could focus on editing, but I hope the pacing wasn’t too fast. it’s also softer than I intended it to be, soooooooooo enjoy. :D

⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere (ish?) vibes.

⇢ ⇢ megumi art by saucy britt ! ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Megumi’s your boyfriend, but he’s a bit too obsessed with you. He starts pretending to stalk you at night while wearing an oni mask to drive you even further into his arms and see him as your protector. It backfires when Megumi doesn’t realize that you found out it was him almost immediately. Nevertheless, you’re going along with it because you’re just as delusional about him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Whenever someone asks you “hey, what do you love about Megumi?”, well, a plethora of amazing things fill your mind. You could, and would, write love poems about that man for days.

But, there are two quirks of his that you love to mention.

First off, Megumi is truly horrendous at keeping secrets. His apathetic attitude may not broadcast that, but he’s a gossip. Only those closest to him know that it’s his guilty pleasure.

Secondly, if you looked up the definition of obsessive personality, Megumi’s pretty face would be pictured there.

You’re not complaining, no, you’re so in love with your boyfriend it makes you sick. It’s just, for as long as you’ve known him, he’s never had the ability to keep a secret. Not even to save his life. You’re privy to much more restricted info involving Yuuji and Gojo than you ever thought you’d be.

To piggyback off that, he’s also constantly worrying about your safety. He checks in on you often, and he gets this stormy expression whenever you refuse to take his concern as seriously as he wants.

The pathway to and from your work is all but seared into your brain. You’ve walked it alone so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. So you’re not quite understanding why now, of all times, Megumi has deemed it unsafe. You’ve remained unscathed thus far.

And that’s why, when your sweet, obsessive boyfriend began stalking you on your way home from work late at night in an Oni mask and hoodie to cover his hair, you felt…. flattered. Were you creeped out? No. Should you have been? Probably. There’s no denying that the thrill of it gets your blood rushing, and the adrenaline high gives you goosebumps. You enjoy it, for lack of a better word.

Megumi, you assume, is more than likely trying to make a point. As misguided as it may be. When you first saw the masked man the night after yet another argument, you reasoned it was too much of a coincidence to ignore. At that time there was no proof connecting him to Megumi, but you had your suspicions.

When he asked about your walk home that very night, his forced nonchalance raised a red flag for you. Still, you didn’t mention you thought it was him. You did however snuggle close to him and rant about “your stalker”, begging him to protect you. Megumi sure as hell resembled a self satisfied cat when you did.

Afterwards, Megumi ended up pinning you to the bed with your knees touching your ears, whispering about how he’ll kill anyone who touches you. Now he does that each time you mention seeing “the stalker”, on your way home. A win - win, truly.

Granted, you were still wary about whether it really was him or not for the first few incidents. Then he made the mistake of hiding just around the corner of the alley you frequently pass and you caught a whiff of his extremely familiar cologne.

Not to mention you found the exact same Oni mask peaking out from under his bed a few days later. It looked as though he shoved it underneath in a frenzy, confident that it would suffice as a hiding place.

It didn’t.

You pretended you hadn’t seen it, waiting until Megumi went to get snacks from the kitchen before casually kicking it further under the bed and out of sight.

Safe to say, you’ve been allowing this to go on for much longer than you should have. It’s been almost an entire month. You’re curious to know if Megumi has any hunches that you’re aware it’s him, if only because you haven’t mentioned hide nor hair of filing a police report about it. Which would be the next logical step that any sane person would take.

In the back of your mind, you distantly wonder if you should be concerned that Megumi is so obsessed with you that he’s willing to go to such lengths to push you further into his arms.

You end up shrugging it off because you can’t judge him too harshly. You probably would’ve ended up doing something similar sooner or later if he hadn’t beaten you to the punch.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Things come to head one night as you’re heading home.

The moon is bright, the stars are beautiful, but it does absolutely nothing to tame the trail of fire you’re leaving in your wake.

Work had been… enraging, to say the least. Your insufferable coworker had been on shift with you, and you’d seriously rather shove bamboo shoots under your nails than work with them.

They’re selfish, incompetent, a pick me, and you can’t fathom why your management keeps them on staff. Those motherfuckers.

After you had angrily tugged your coat on and gathered your things, you stormed out the door after having a rather heated conversation with your manager. You hadn’t checked your phone all night, and it completely slipped your mind to text Megumi when you left, as you usually did.

About halfway through your fuming journey the light of the street lamps bounce off of something shiny and it catches your eye. Your heart beat falters, head snapping towards the alleyway only to see a figure lurking in the shadows. Peering straight at you. The person is clothed in all black, hoodie securing their hair, but once you spy the Oni mask, you realize it’s Megumi. Again.

You roll your eyes, your only recently fading irritation sparking back to life. You exhale harshly through your nose, stuffing your hands further into your pockets and speed up. You are not in the mood to deal with this. The distance sound of sneakers scuffing the sidewalk as someone walks briskly has your fingers balling into fists.

Normally, the cold blooded thrill of being stalked switches your adrenaline into lust, leaving you drooling for Megumi by the time you get home. But currently it’s twisting into something ugly. The sensation of eyes constantly being locked on you has you desperately wanting to crawl out of your skin. It’s overwhelming, and not in a good way.

You speed up once more, jaw tightening to the point that your teeth may crack when Megumi matches your pace. You’re this close to breaking out into a jog as you turn the last corner to your block, but your ears start to twitch at the sudden absence of footsteps.

You whirl around ready to give your boyfriend a piece of your mind, but you freeze when you realize he’s gone. You grind your teeth in irritation because he obviously slipped away without you noticing. Clicking your tongue behind your teeth, you practically stomp past the last few houses toward your shared home.

Megumi better be ready to argue when he shows up.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

As soon as you get home you toss your stuff carelessly onto your bed and return back to the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, you sit stiffly, shoulders tense as you perch yourself on the edge.

A part of your brain scolds you, telling you that your boyfriend doesn’t necessarily deserve all the built up rage from the day. Megumi isn’t innocent though, and he does play a part in the chaotic mess you’ve created, so it’s obvious you need to talk to him.

It doesn’t take much longer for Megumi to show his face. The door creaks as it opens and closes, your palms starting to sweat the closer he gets. Megumi calls out to you in greeting, but the silence is deafening when you don’t bother to reply.

Megumi rounds the couch and freezes when he eyes your tense posture. His face is carefully blank, eyes flitting over your figure as he gingerly sits down next to you. You barely spare him a glance, Megumi’s brows pinching in concern as you return your stare to the TV in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” His tone is apprehensive as he rests a large palm on your knee, slender fingers squeezing reassuringly. You stiffen under the touch, unable to stop yourself from glaring hotly at him.

“Why the fuck have you been following me?” Your tone drips with venom, the slightest bit of guilt brewing when Megumi’s head jerks back as if you slapped him, lips parting and eyes widening.

Okay, so you definitely didn’t plan to get to straight into it, but evidently you can’t hold your tongue.

“That’s not, I mean —,” he starts to fumble over his words as he tries to come up with something convincing. His fingers dig into your knee and you sneer slightly, shifting to grip his wrist so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“Megumi,” you warn. “I know you’ve been following me. I found the Oni mask under your bed. Tell me why. Now,” you stress the last word and lock your heated gaze with his. His dark eyes flit back and forth across your face as he stays stiff for an ungodly amount of time. Just as the silence is becoming unbearable he wilts in his seat, sighing as his chin touches his chest.

Some of your fury fades when he lifts his head and looks at you with such sad eyes, a small frown on his mouth. Your hold on his bony wrist loosens considerably.

“I just,” he pauses, pursing his lips as he searches for the right words. “You make me feel, okay? Too much sometimes, and I get worried about your safety. I wanted you to see how dangerous it can be for you to be out there alone. I need you to need me, the same way I need you...” he mutters, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he averts his gaze.

All the fight drains out of you, chest welling up with a warmth so intense it burns the tips of your ears.

“Gumi,” you say softly, moving to tenderly cradle the side of his jaw. He leans into it, eyes hopeful as he reaches up to place his hand over yours. “I do need you. You’re the only one I trust to protect me. You didn’t have to stalk me to get your point across,” you say with slight amusement, resting your forehead on his.

Megumi sighs softly, lids lowering. “I wasn’t going to keep it up at first, but then… I started to like the thrill of hunting you down,” he admits, sparking the tension between you. The warmth in your belly turns you gooey as you process his confession.

You hesitate before answering shyly. “I…liked it too.” Megumi’s expression shifts into something more humorous, a faint smirk quirking his lips.

“Oh?” He teases. You bite your lower lip, trailing your fingers feather light down the side of his throat and his breath hitches.

“Yeah,” you whisper, catching Megumi staring at your mouth with a dark hunger. He smoothes his hand up to your inner thigh, inching his face even further into your personal bubble.

“I want you,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You moan lowly, tilting your head to get the perfect angle. Soft lips meet yours slowly, repeatedly, and the slick noise of it makes your pussy ache to be stretched by his cock.

You make out with your boyfriend until you’re seriously debating crawling into his lap and riding him right here on the couch. Delicately, you place your hands on his chest, the soft t-shirt brushing your palms, and you push to break the kiss.

“Go get the mask, Megumi.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

It’s a rush to see who can get naked first.

Your clothes, and Megumi’s, are scattered along the floor of your bedroom. Megumi had eagerly pulled the mask from his back pack, and now you’re in bed spread out on your back, watching Megumi with bated breath as he slips it on.

Megumi has settled on his haunches between your thighs, adjusting the mask until it fits comfortably and covers his entire face. You have to bite your knuckles as he looms over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head while you stare up at him with stars in your eyes.

You’d practically begged him to make it rough, not wanting much, if any at all, foreplay involved.

You gently run your hands down the soft skin of Megumi’s taut stomach, fingers brushing over the thin patch of dark hair that leads to his cock. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, the decent weight of it against your palm turning you on just that much more. His hips twitch involuntarily when you squeeze playfully, slowly stroking as he moans your name.

Too soon he’s snatches your wrist away, causing you to pout up at him. He shakes his head and tugs your hand away from his dick.

“Turn over baby,” Megumi instructs, backing off enough to allow you to wiggle and shift freely until you’re flat on your belly. Your cheek squishes into the mattress, hands resting by your head, and your blood starts to sing when Megumi straddles the backs of your thighs.

The tingling sensation in your fingertips reminds you of the first time you had sex with Megumi, and it’s as if you’re experiencing that night all over again.

Your stomach clenches when a hard cock suddenly nestles against the swell of your ass. The smooth, warm skin dragging back and forth as Megumi rolls his hips for the friction.

“Are you gonna fuck me like this?” You ask excitedly. A sharp swat on the ass is your answer, a startled gasp ringing out as you fist the blanket.

“I never said you were allowed to speak. Bite your tongue unless I tell you otherwise, whore,” Megumi says coldly, spanking you once more to get his point across. You capture the tip of your tongue between your teeth and nod vigorously, your skin already warm to the touch and swelling.

The insult has your cheeks on fire from the inherent shame, but it feels incredible. Besides, you know he’ll be calling you a good girl soon enough.

Megumi shuffles down, rising up to his knees as he uses a thumb to spread your pussy open. It’s a slow press as he tries to work his cock inside you. His tip’s on the edge of popping in but then he slips, sliding down and bumping your clit instead. The jolt of sweet pleasure startles you, causing you to shove your face into the blanket and moan.

“Sorry,” Megumi snickers, but the bastard doesn’t carry an ounce of remorse in his voice.

He readjusts his angle, lining up his cock a bit better and then he’s sinking a quarter of the way into your tight pussy. It burns, you’re nowhere near wet enough to take him, and you think you could cum from the sensation alone.

He rocks his hips and steadily inches himself the rest of the way inside, using rolling motions until he’s pushed in to the hilt. Megumi decides to stay there, cock jerking and applying firm pressure to your cervix.

You hiss on your next inhale, a stab of pain making itself known. The feeling blends with the pleasure of being stretched so well and your pussy flutters involuntarily. Megumi gasps softly, supporting his weight with palms pushing against your upper back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight like this. You were made to take my cock,” Megumi praises, voice rising in pitch when you wiggle underneath him. You whine quietly in agreement, remembering to stay silent, and an approving hum comes from behind you.

Megumi looms over your back, fingers closing around your wrists to effectively pin you to the bed. He draws his hips back and snaps them forward powerfully, pelvis smacking loudly against your ass.

He builds up to a rough pace, the unyielding grasp on your wrist has your fingers going numb. Your boyfriend mercilessly pounds you into the mattress, cock pushing so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You cry out endlessly as overwhelming pleasure swells behind your bellybutton. You struggle to get free, but Megumi doesn’t allow you to budge.

If Megumi is making any noise, you can’t hear it over your own cries. Well, except for the few husky moans that spill unabashedly from his mouth before he can stop them. When you start to cum you shout his name so harshly into the sheets that it wrecks your voice. Your boyfriend curses hotly, slipping his cock free completely and flipping you onto your back before you can blink.

He pushes one thigh to your chest and shoves his cock back into you, his other hand latching around your throat as he leans in close.

“What the fuck did I say about speaking without permission?Are you deaf?” He snarls, the angry, distorted expression of the Oni mask becoming much more threatening in your fucked out state.

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, both hands flying to grip his forearm.

Megumi clicks this tongue and squeezes hard briefly before shaking himself free of your hold.

“You’re sorry?” He sneers, pressing his palm to your face and covering the entirety of your mouth and nose. He completely cuts off your air and your eyes go wide, a burst of panic building in your chest. You can’t fucking breathe. “I’m going to teach you a lesson about listening to me. If you don’t want to pass out baby, you better cum on cock before you run out of air.”

You fist the sheets until you’re sure they’ll rip, eyes rolling back as Megumi fucks you into the mattress. The intensity of the situation and lack of oxygen fills your brain with molasses, ears ringing as your sole focus remains on cumming.

Mercifully, your pleasure starts to crest and peak into that familiar edge, the one that’s similar to the anticipation right before the big drop on a roller coaster. The smooth glide of Megumi’s cock continuously splitting you is more than enough to dangle you over the edge.

Your chest starts to heave, lungs burning as no air makes it way inside. You fumble with Megumi’s wrist, tugging desperately, but he whispers muffled encouragement through the covered mouth of the mask.

“C’mon, you can do it baby. You’re almost there, I can feel it. You’re such a good girl. Make that sweet pussy cum for me and I’ll let you breathe.”

The backs of your eyes start to sting, heart thumping so hard it pulsates throughout your entire body. Your vision swims and your thighs tense, Megumi’s nails biting into the sensitive skin on the underside of your thigh. White hot pleasure suddenly crashes into you, flowing like warm honey. The base of your skull digs into the mattress as you cum with a muffled scream.

Megumi immediately frees you and you gasp loudly, throat like sandpaper as you swallow oxygen the same way you drink water. The sensation of air filling your lungs drags your orgasm out ten fold and you start to push at Megumi’s chest when it gets overwhelming.

“Megumi,” you all but sob, pleading as you stare up at him with glazed eyes. He drops your thigh as he sits up, slipping his cock free with a hoarse groan as he strokes himself quickly. His lean body sags with relief as he cums, streaking your pussy and stomach with white.

He lets go of his still twitching cock, tip leaking pitifully onto the blankets, and pushes the mask off to throw it haphazardly aside. He pants harshly, cheeks scarlet as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair to keep it from sticking to his forehead. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to regain your bearings. You’re sure a headache is on the horizon as you rub your eyes with your knuckles.

The air in your room is humid and stuffy, the only noise being you and Megumi trying to catch your breath. Your boyfriend eventually slides off the bed to find his discarded shirt from earlier. You stay limp as he helps get you clean, Megumi opting to crawl up beside you and lay on his stomach afterwards.

He twists his head towards you and you mirror his position. Your entire being feels like jelly and you sigh contentedly when Megumi rubs a soothing hand up and down your back.

“Are you alright?” Your voice is scratchy as the adrenaline wears off and sleep starts to seep into your limbs.

Megumi snorts. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who’s half asleep.”

You punch his shoulder halfheartedly and he laughs. “Whatever, can we go to bed now?”

“As long as you promise to take my concerns more seriously.”

“Fine, only if you promise not to stalk me through the streets like a lunatic.” Your eyes drift shut as you speak.

Megumi huffs. “Deal.”

“Keep the mask though, gumi.” You crack open an eyelid to smile playfully at him. Megumi lets out a startled laugh, but he agrees not to throw it away. He snuggles in close and kisses the side of your cheek several times.

[scribs-dibs]

gilded

sunday x reader, established relationship i suppose, ooc sunday perhaps, refs to sunday's trauma and a lot of his unwelcomed thoughts, ummmm it's very short guys idk

wc ; ~700-ish words

this is my (late) submission from the stellaronhvnters sillay halloween event! i used the prompt foliage this time :-)

"doesn't he owe this to you?"

Sunday lived in a gilded cage, and he liked it there.

It was safe in there, sacred, with the bars perfectly, evenly spaced, just enough room for him to see out of, just enough to see what a proper child should not  do,  just enough to see what he should be better than, just enough for him to see what naughty, rowdy children look like.

So when the cool breeze reddens your nose, and your eyes peek at him from over your scarf, and you ask him:

"Sunday, wanna play in the leaves?"

Of course, his careful, calculated answer is:

"I'll pass, thank you."

He doesn't quite understand why your face falls the way it does, but it sends a shiver down his spine. That response was wrong.

But who can blame him, really? His shirt is crisp and clean, and the leaves have crinkled and curled on the ground for ages. They're dirty. Proper, well behaved children stay at Gopher Wood's side, back straight and posture proper, safe inside his gilded cage. He longs for it, sometimes. The safety. The sacredness. The cleanliness.

But this isn't all bad either, he muses. This is as close to safety as ever— your hand is placed securely in his own, your bared flesh against his gloved one, and every so often you make sure to give your joined arms a hardy swing. You've all but shut him out of his office for the day, the sky turning a mellow pink as the sun sinks beneath the clouds. "Autumn" you had called it; Penacony removed the harsh breezes and early darkness from this season, and its reality would be distasteful if not for your unabashed enjoyment of it.

Your favorite part of this time of year, you've told him, is how the leaves change color. Greens disappear into warm gradients, and he supposes he can see the appeal of that.

But that doesn't mean he has to roll in them.

You nudge his shoulder, and he realizes he's spaced off. Uncouth. Pay attention.

"Come on Sunday! Can't we live a little?"

Sunday allows a short, clipped chuckle to escape him. Your face is scrunched lightly, the way it always gets when you want to pout at him uselessly. You refrain from doing that, sure, but Sunday can tell it's only a few minute twitches away from forming such an expression.

"We? I never said you couldn't indulge," Sunday presses a finger against the knit in your brow, ironing out the crease formed there. Such an expression causes wrinkles. "You can go ahead. I'll be here."

You shake your head immediately.

"It's not the same," you sigh, and Sunday knows that tone. It's disappointment, hard and sharp and cold. Though it is faint, a different flavor when encased in your gentler, kinder, form, he can still detect it a mile away. "But it's okay, we can still go to the cafe as planned."

You don't seem disheartened. You've moved on, gracefully, with the ease he both envies and admires from you.

Everything was set out for him in his cage. He had a role to play, and fulfilled it properly. Played all his pieces properly, too, made sure everything set out for him stayed in its proper place. When that all shattered, he was lost. It was your guiding hands that found him and picked up what was left of him. You...loved what was left of him in fact.

Now that he plays the role of "boyfriend," doesn't he owe this to you? Would this simple act be enough to start balancing the scales for the sin of loving him?

"Sunday?" 

Pay attention. Uncouth. Shame on you.

"It's not that big of a deal, okay?" Your own finger rubs at the crease in his brow. Normally, his facade is perfect, practiced. Ease is supposed to be the neutral face for a leader. He let his guard down.

"Look," you point, and overhead the trees shimmer with their reds and oranges and yellows, shining with the little scraps of sunlight that remain, "This is enough, isn't it? We don't have to jump in the piles if you don't want to."

Your hand in his grows tighter, and the reprimands that Sunday has repeated to himself again and again suddenly feel distant.

"Walking with you is more than enough, Sunday."

Sunday had lived in a gilded cage. But he supposes life outside isn't so bad, now.

Sunday takes a deep breath, and walks with you amongst the leaves.

•------------------------•

ty for reading 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ rbs & comments are appreciated !!

[reiderwriter]

Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either. 

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen. 

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut. 

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely." 

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" 

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you. 

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes. 

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation. 

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech. 

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart. 

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex. 

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it. 

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question. 

“Of course I have.” 

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?” 

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths. 

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering. 

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?” 

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours. 

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him. 

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs. 

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?” 

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief. 

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak. 

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.” 

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” 

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word. 

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side. 

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it. 

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances. 

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.  

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days. 

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall. 

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.  

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer. 

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you. 

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat. 

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again. 

“I look forward to working with you.” 

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. there's nothing more romantic than travelling halfway across the world for the girl you love... even if it is two years late.

wc. 3.4k

tags. none really, yn is described as shorter than megumi, possible ooc for EVERYONE, lowkey forgot how to write halfway through, possible spelling mistakes and plotholes (pls still like my writing i beg)

a/n. im sorry i never really got round to answering the comments on the last post but i have added everyone to the taglist who asked. so i did write two endings but one was bad SO i stuck to this one only <3 i hope this is the right end to the series and thank you sm for the support over the last few months!! i will have a 'spin-off-ish' series focused on the students making the videos in the first place which i will add the link to on this chapter once it's up. this is for @ilovejugs69 ly pookie

previous part / series masterlist

“this is such a bad plan.” 

megumi let out a small sigh, resting his head back on the leather of the plane’s seat. an economy seat – much to gojo’s dismay – but there hadn’t been much time to consider other options, bar gojo buying himself a personal private jet and hiring a pilot all in the space of less than an hour. 

the dark-haired student clutched the arm rests as he felt his stomach churn in knots as the reality of their decision sunk in. it was a very last minute and muddled plan but gojo was desperate to see you again and megumi wanted nothing more than to have his family back – so when gojo offered to take them both to the other side of the world to find you, he agreed a little too quickly. spontaneity was not his thing and with each passing second he was remembering why.

gojo shuffled himself back in his seat, nose scrunching up in annoyance as he struggled with the small gap for his longer-than-average legs. if his height wasn’t drawing the pair any attention (which it certainly was), the uniforms and the sorcerer’s blindfold definitely were. he didn’t need his six eyes to feel the stares of strangers. 

“i’ve never had a bad plan in my life.” 

megumi scoffed at the declaration, rolling his eyes at the white haired sorcerer’s misplaced confidence. like it wasn’t gojo’s idea to send megumi on that mission alone that ultimately resulted in yuuji swallowing sukuna’s finger or his idea to prank nanami on his birthday that got both himself and the first years all detention. 

“don’t roll your eyes at me, young man,” gojo lightly swatted megumi’s arm, wiggling one of his fingers in front of the younger boy’s face. “your mother will think i’m a shit dad and won’t come back.” megumi ignored the tightening in his chest at the casualness of gojo’s words.

“you are a shit dad,” he retorted, closing his eyes and willing the next seven hours to go by faster than they were. he didn’t hate flying, but he wasn’t the biggest fan, and the nerves that were building up alongside the nonstop chatter from the man beside him were definitely not helping.

gojo gasped and megumi felt him jostling in the seat next to him, he could only imagine the dramatics his teacher was pulling in public. it was best he kept his eyes closed. 

“that wasn’t very nice. god, teenagers and their angst these days.” 

megumi heard gojo mumbling loudly under his breath and there was no doubt in his mind that there was a cheshire grin on gojo’s face, daring him to take the bait and bicker like the mature adult he was. 

however annoying he may have found him, megumi knew that gojo was just as nervous as he was. the two, however, were just polar opposites in all aspects. so while megumi just wanted to spend the next few hours trying to sleep and hope he’d have the courage to face you when he woke up, gojo wanted to play avoidance by teasing him as if they weren’t travelling halfway across the world for you.

when megumi didn’t respond, to gojo’s disappointment, a silence settled between the two. with his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his uniform and head almost on gojo’s shoulder, the dark haired sorcerer attempted to finally fall asleep.

“do you think she’s mad at me?” megumi asked quietly after about five minutes. 

gojo hummed thoughtfully, looking down at the teenager almost asleep on his shoulder. “she has no reason to be mad at you,” he said in the most reassuring tone he could muster.

“she’s never messaged me back,” megumi countered.

“at least yours still go through.” gojo huffed lightly, an attempt at brightening megumi’s mood at the expense of himself but it only left both more unsettled at their predicament. he knocked his knee into the younger boy’s gently. “get some sleep, this is going to be a long flight.”

“if you just take a seat here, i will go see if ma’am is available. it’s so lovely to meet her family finally.” a woman dressed in formal attire gestured towards a small lobby waiting room with a bright smile. 

there was no one else in there apart from one middle-aged guy with a briefcase, newspaper in hand. gojo thanked the woman, hand on megumi’s shoulder as he led him into the back corner of the white minimalist room.

the sun had set by the time they’d landed and found your office building – something that gojo had forced shoko to send him. he hadn’t even had a chance to tell her what they were doing before he’d gotten on the plane so after she had a go at him for leaving her out of the loop and not bringing her too, she sent across the necessary details with demands for regular updates. 

“i bet she’s going to call security,” megumi sighed as he dropped himself down into the black leather seat, resting his head back against the wall behind him. between school and the plane journey, he’d been awake for nearly twenty hours and the stiff seat he was on felt like a pile of feathers. he was going to fall asleep before he’d even had the chance to see you.

gojo crossed one leg over the other, hands crossed behind his head. the teenager wanted to elbow him for his calm posture – he could have as well, he’d dropped his infinity the second the two had entered the building. the second the older sorcerer had stepped into the building he knew you were here, recognising the cursed energy that brought him a familiar comfort he’d missed. “why would she?”

megumi snapped his head in his direction, eyes opening to give him an incredulous look, “why would you say you’re her husband?” 

gojo waved a hand dismissively, “i basically am–”

“was. several years ago.” megumi countered and gojo’s mouth dropped open at the audacity of his pupil to point out the obvious facts.

rolling up the sleeves of his jacket, gojo began to stand up and megumi was close to cracking a smile at his behaviour. the delirium of not sleeping was beginning to sink in. “okay, kid–”

“you’re here.”

gojo’s sleeves dropped just as fast as megumi stood up from his seat, both more alert than they had been all day. suddenly, the uneasy feeling megumi had had on the plane didn’t seem so bad, this was so much worse.

you’d barely changed since you’d left, bar your hair being a few inches longer. if the two looked closely enough at you, they’d realise you were just as wrecked with nerves as they were as you struggled to stop your hands from shaking.

when the receptionist had first come up to tell you that your husband and son were here to see you, your initial reaction had been to say she’d made a mistake… until the cryptic message shoko had sent you thirty minutes earlier started to make a lot more sense. 

she was the only one you’d maintained regular contact with after you’d left. initially you had gone on a complete no contact with everyone, refusing to even acknowledge that you had a life and a family in japan. you were scared and you’d chosen the coward's way out by running. it felt wrong to still have strings binding you to a life that was no longer yours.

but you missed her and you worried constantly about gojo and megumi, so you’d slowly built up messaging her once a month to every few days just to know everyone was still alive.

you had desperately wanted to take megumi with you but you didn’t have it in you take him away from his sister and, despite how you’d laid into him about how even he had limitations, you knew megumi was safer with gojo than you. in america, you were vulnerable to curse users and curses alike without the protection of any other sorcerers or specialist schools to help you.

the three of you probably looked like idiots to the other man in the room, all staring at each other too afraid to make the first room. it felt surreal to all be together again. you were afraid your longing to see them again had reached a point of insanity, and they were afraid of spooking you if they got too close too quickly.

megumi was the first one to make a move, stepping around the rows of seats and the centre coffee table till he stood a metre from you. “hi.”

your hand covered your mouth as you had to tilt your head up slightly to keep eye contact with the boy you’d raised since he was only a fraction of your height. you may not have changed but megumi had – both his height and voice – and the guilt of leaving him behind was overwhelming.

“oh my god, you’re so much taller than me.” you moved closer to him to gently grab ahold of his arms as you took in how much he had grown. there wasn’t a day that had gone by that you didn’t regret and feel guilt for leaving megumi and you only hoped he understood why you left him so suddenly. taking a step back, you gestured to his uniform, “what’s jujutsu high like?”

the words were bittersweet. what had leaving achieved apart from heartache? megumi was still a jujutsu student and gojo was still japan’s lifeline. maybe you would live a longer life in america, but was the life you had now worth the one you’d left behind?

“it’s…” megumi hesitated before clearing his throat, “it’s okay. there’s two other first years, yuuji and nobara. they’re alright.” you smiled at his words, flashbacks of your own childhood crossing your mind as you remembered the innocence of your first year. it was fun being in a class with two prodigies, you were mini celebrities in a world of rich and powerful sorcerers.

“i’m glad you’ve made some friends, megs,” the nickname rolled off your tongue too naturally and if megumi closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend that you were all still in japan and you were just catching up after being away on a prolonged mission. you glanced to the other sorcerer in the room who had remained silent up until this point – although he had silently made his way over. “i’m going to go speak with satoru in my office and then can i take you out for dinner? to talk properly?”

megumi nodded a little too eagerly, “yeah, please. i’ll just wait here.”

“perfect. satoru?” the acknowledgement was all the strongest sorcerer needed to be following behind you, keeping a distance of several paces as you led him inside your office.

gojo rested his forearm against one of the large ceiling height windows in your office that overlooked the city. you had to be at least twenty stories up and the blaring of car horns was simply a hum, vehicles appearing as mini red and yellow dots on the busy roads below.

“nice view.” 

it was the first words he’d uttered in your presence and despite him being the one to initiate the venture to you, he had no idea what to say. this was likely his only chance to convince you to come back and he may have already screwed up by waiting as long as he had.

“what are you doing here?” you asked as you pushed your door shut, leaving the two of you in the privacy of your small office. it was nothing special; a chair, a desk with paperwork piling up and no photos whatsoever. there was no trace that you even existed beyond these four walls.

“don’t i at least get an ‘i miss you’? i just travelled over ten hours for you,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension in the room but your voice was no longer as soft as it was when you spoke with megumi. the teenager had done nothing wrong – he was part of the reason you left.

“it’s been two years.” he didn’t have to turn around to know that your arms were probably crossed in front of your chest, your head tilted to the side as you waited for him to explain himself. except he thinks his past offences of stealing all of the sweets before halloween were a little more forgivable than letting you leave.

his hand turned to a fist as he dropped it from the window, turning around to look at you properly. “i know.”

both of you stared at one another, neither of you speaking as you took the other in.

“you chose them over me,” you accused. them being both the higher-ups and the whole of jujutsu itself. you’d given him a chance to have a normal life – a natural life in which you’d grow old together and die of old age – and he’d chosen the short life where he’d likely die before he turned thirty.

“you knew what you were signing up for,” he said and there was no malice behind the words though they still frustrated you. he was right to an extent, he’d sat you down after you’d finished school, just before he’d taken in megumi and given you an out. you chose to stay, fully believing that the two of you had already gone through your worst.

“i didn’t realise i’d always be on the losing side.”

“we weren’t always losing–”

you stepped closer to gojo as you held out your hand, counting each disaster after the other with your fingers, “haibara died, we almost died, geto defected, we took in megumi and the tensions between your clan and the zen’ins got ten times worse. you said you wanted to change jujutsu society and what had we done? i never knew if you’d come home to me after missions, it made me feel sick.”

“how do you think i felt coming home to a note?” you could count on your hands the amount of times you had seen gojo angry – and while he wasn’t all the way there he was teetering on the edge as he frustratedly lifted off his blindfold, throwing it onto your desk. in the same way you’d been desperate for him to hear what you were saying before you’d left, he was equally as desperate for you to hear him now. to see that he was here. “megumi? at least geto left for a purpose, you just left.”

it was an unfair dig – geto had committed mass murder, after all – but similar to the one that you’d pulled on him two years ago.

you clicked your tongue as you tried not to make it obvious how badly that made you want to cry, holding your hands up in surrender. “was it so wrong to want a life where i didn’t go to work thinking i would die? to want a future?”

“you were my future.” he sounded sad as he uttered them, and it looked foreign to see the gojo satoru look so dejected. there were only inches between the two of you now and despite the fact he towered over you, he appeared so small as he continued, “was i ever yours?”

memories of your late teenage years and early adulthood play out as a montage: from your first meeting when you’d both gotten lost on the train to school, to the tears you spilled as you finished writing your note and closed the door to his apartment for the last time. 

“of course you were.” your voice was shaky, no longer holding any bite. until the day you’d left, since you were sixteen, you’d never envisioned a life without him.

gojo’s hand reached out to push your hair back from your neck, the little white scars still tarnishing your flawless skin. it was taking all of your resolve to not collapse into his arms and have him hold you like you knew he would. you were sure you’d believe him this time if he told you he could protect everyone, that he was in fact able to be in six places at once and still come out on top. “come back with us please.”

“satoru…” you dragged off, looking away as you fought between listening to your rationale that reminded you that nothing had really changed and your heart that missed being in love.

“just come back,” he repeated, “are you going to tell me you’ve found someone else? that you enjoy your life here?” it was wrong and selfish, he knew it, to be convincing you the way he was – to even be here full stop – but he missed you and he wasn’t ready to let you walk away again.

“i can’t lose you.” hesitantly you pressed your hands to his chest. for a second he was scared you were going to push him away, but you didn’t, fingers tightening around the material of his uniform.

“don’t be silly and travel halfway across the country then.” his voice was just above a whisper now as he brushed his nose against yours. “hey, look at me properly.”

you complied without any hesitation – you always did when it came to him. two years of no contact but your body still reacted on muscle memory to the sound of his voice. never in your life had you ever seen eyes like his, of course you hadn’t, and you were still taken aback by the full blue colour as he gazed down at you.

“tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.” you did want him to. “tell me you want me to walk out of this room and not turn back and i’ll do it.” he wouldn’t have left without you.

“i missed you,” you whispered, and that was all he needed to duck his head down to let your lips meet. gojo’s hand slipped round to the back of your neck, tugging you impossibly closer as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip. you missed this, you missed him, and you were going to find it impossible to let go of him again.

only when your lungs ached to breathe did you force yourself to pull back from your ex boyfriend. gojo’s eyes were still focused on your lips and you didn’t doubt that if it were up to him, he’d be leaning to kiss you again. it was only the light push against his chest that held him back.

“what are we doing?” you asked, voice wavering from both the kiss and nerves. whilst there was no doubt in your mind that gojo was who you wanted, you had many reservations about reentering jujutsu society.

“about to ditch this place and go back to japan on a plane. all three of us.”

you brows furrowed together, “but–”

gojo held a finger up your lips, his other hand slipping into his back pocket, pulling out three plane tickets. “i already got your ticket, you don’t want it to go to waste do you?”

you lightly hit his arm and smiled up at him. he was grinning now and it didn’t need to be said aloud – he was yours again (though he’d never really stopped being such) and you were coming home. “that confident?”

“surprised you were able to resist me this long.” he pecked your cheek this time, a hint of tease in his tone like he hadn’t needed megumi to convince him to even enter your office building in the first place.

you let his joke slide with no rebuttal. “are you coming to dinner?” you hoped you hadn’t been keeping megumi too long.

“do you want me at dinner?” gojo asked.

you reached across to your desk to grab ahold of his blindfold and passed it to him. as much as you loved being able to see his eyes, you’d rather not be spending your first twenty four hours with him in bed complaining about a splitting headache. “i’m sure megs won’t mind. plus you can pay,” you added with a wink.

gojo raised an eyebrow, lips tugging up at the corners into a slight smirk, “oh so that’s the real reason why you missed me?”

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen @kimvmarvel @ieathairs @janbannan @ja-zz @vangoes @starringz @ciscob1tes @theoriginaluzisimp @thirtykiwis @vivienne2000 @whydohumansss @purpleguk @simeon-lovergirl @missesgojosatoru @loveroftheoldestdream @mkaiiserr kazbrkker ancientimes thefirst-ofus animechick555 saccharinelixir seunnimg kookonsale

super sorry if ive missed anyone!

[bbsmuts]

Career Advice ft. Miss A Suzy & AOA Seolhyun

A/N: I have a few notes before I start this one, first and foremost being that I got plenty of DMs after Special Fanmeet telling me the shock play was well done and it was a good addition to the smut, so I'll be incorporating some of that into more smuts in the future. My readers (as well as myself) have made it clear that they're into dom/sub dynamics, ownership kinks, and all that kind of stuff, so I'll be incorporating that a bit more. You're welcome, ya kinky bastards.

Is this very, very late? Yes. Is it very much overdue? Indeed it is. But will it be very good due to how much time I've had it a a draft? Probably also yes. Maybe. I don't have time to proofread things, so I never know.

This is a pitch from @phoenixwolf (who's been quite patient and a pleasure to work with), which is a pretty unique idea I've never seen before. It'll be quite a bit different from all my others, since the main character isn't in any kind of relationship with the idols. I'm doing a bit (well, in some parts a lot) of modification with how being an idol works and the perks that come with it, since to be quite honest I don't really know how it works and I need to make it fit the story better. So take note of that throughout the story whenever I mention something that probably isn't a thing irl. I have to use Y/N with this one because there's no way I can write it without using a name for the main character, which I don't do.

But after very much procrastination and too much time spent as a draft, it's here. I'm not at all used to writing a more tentative, maybe sub-ish character, so Seolhyun's noona kink solo might be iffy. And also just pretend that Suzy and Seolhyun are in the same group/under the same agency (Kakao) for the purposes of the smut. Also my first time writing a daddy kink. It's probably just about the same as a sir kink.

Point is, this one might be iffy.

-상훈

Length: 5.81k

Possible TW: Just about nothing, just a noona kink for Seolhyun and a daddy kink for Suzy. And of course my trademark, a sprinkle of light spanking/choking.

Tags: Threesome, cunnilingus, blowjob, dom/sub, daddy kink, noona kink, choking, spanking, fingering, face riding

It was just another one of those days; sitting, waiting outside a businesswoman's office waiting to be talked to. The small plaque on the dark mahogany door read "Kim Seolhyun, Ace of Angels". The plush chair I sat on had to be the best office guest chair I'd ever sat on, predictably enough considering where I was.

Explanation time.

My name is Y/N, and I'm a week away from debuting as the next global K-pop superstar. Or at least, that's what everyone around me is saying. I'm 19, and very new to the bustling, jolting, lively atmosphere of the agency's headquarters. I'm not even completely sure of everything that's going on. I auditioned for Kakao Entertainment when I was 15 and almost immediately got a callback from them. I performed two more auditions beyond the initial one and was accepted as a trainee with high praise from judges. I signed my trainee contract and trained for 4 years, during which they touched up on my singing, rapping, dance skills, physique, modeling sagacity, and overall competence as a future idol, all of which they had described to already be near perfect. From the day I arrived on Kakao's doorstep, I had been told I was going to be the next global K-pop sensation. And now I'm a week away from debuting as a massive solo artist.

To say I'm nervous is a little bit of an understatement.

The reason why I'm here is to talk with former and current idols to orient me into what it's going to be like. I've already had conversations with a few notable ones, and now I'm outside Seolhyun's office. I've also been told Bae Suzy is here to see me, which is something I'm excited for. Suzy has been one of my favorite idols since I was really young. ___

"Mr. L/N?" Seolhyun's secretary spoke in a soft voice. "She's ready for you."

I stood up, and with a deep breath and a small adjustment of my tie, pushed open the door.

To my slight surprise, Suzy was already in the room, sitting with Seolhyun behind the desk.

Suzy gestured me in, and I took a seat in front of the desk. It was very well-organized and neat.

"Hi, Y/N." said Seolhyun. "I'm Kim Seolhyun, and this is–"

"I know who you are." I said.

She smiled warmly. "Then introductions aren't necessary, are they?"

I chuckled. "No, they aren't. I requested to meet you specifically."

Suzy smirked. "That's refreshing. Well, it's very nice to meet you, Y/N."

Seolhyun nodded.

"It's a pleasure." I replied, shaking both of their hands.

"No, the pleasure is ours." said Suzy. "It's not often we get to meet the next K-pop superstar pre-debut, is it? Especially when he's so hot~"

Seolhyun hit Suzy on the arm lightly. "Stop, isn't it too soon for that?"

"It's never too soon."

I smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, Suzy. Can I call you Suzy?"

"Yes, of course."

"So," I said, preparing to ask the list of questions I had prepared in my head. "What's the lifestyle like, being an idol?"

...

"–so basically, to sum up that point, don't fall out of line. Not publicly." Seolhyun finished.

"Unless, of course, you feel a little bit more daring, like me." Suzy threw a wink my way. "Media goes crazy for a bit of controversy."

Seolhyun rolled her eyes. "It's a daring move, but your publicity will skyrocket over a scandal. Suzy would know all about that."

Suzy grinned. "Nothing like watching your fans start World War III on social media because you didn't wear safety shorts."

Seolhyun chuckled. "Some, like Suzy, like to rock the boat a little. And it's good for publicity; the media likes a daring figure."

"So you're telling me I should cross the line a bit from time to time?" I asked.

"Yes." Suzy replied immediately.

"Not necessarily," corrected Seolhyun, side-eyeing Suzy, "it depends on what kind of idol you are to the public. But a tiny scandal here and there does keep you in the headlines, whether that be a good thing or a bad thing."

"Ok," I said slowly, "that makes sense. Other than that, what can I do to start off with a bang?"

"You?" Seolhyun said. "You might not even need any of that. I mean, they said they could have debuted you without training. They said they were considering cutting your training short and debuting you early."

"Of course, that's when funds had dipped a lot," Suzy added, "but that's not important. What's important is that they were seriously considering doing it, which never happens."

"So that either means you're already going down Suzy's route, or you're one hell of a potential." said Seolhyun.

"It's the latter."

"Yeah, I figured. All the talk around here has been about you since you started training. All the higher-ups and execs have been super excited because you'll be bringing in a lot of revenue."

"Which automatically makes you a high priority, especially once you actually start making them money." Suzy carried on. "Low-profit artists and groups are lower priority. You? You'll be pretty much as high priority as it gets, which means you can exploit it. Use it to your advantage."

"However you want to use it, bear in mind the fact that they are relying on you for profit. Of course, if you get too cocky, there's always consequences, but as long as you keep in mind the firm boundaries, you're all good."

"Okay," I said, "so I can push my luck a little, just don't overdo it."

"Exactly." Suzy replied. "You're a fast learner. And I'd advise you to wait to exercise that prioritization for a little while until they've gotten a good idea of what kind of idol you're going to be, what kind of profits you'll make them. If you do it too early, they might think early on that you're going to give them a hard time."

"And if that happens?"

"Don't know. Contract termination at the very most, but I doubt they'd do that. But they can make your life hell if they want to."

"Okay, got it. What else?"

"Well..." The two of them thought about it, and then Seolhyun spoke up. "You could try Suzy's approach..."

"Which is?" I prompted.

"Sucking a lot of music producer dick." Suzy laughed.

Her reply took me be surprise, but I barely reacted. "Yeah, I'm afraid I won't be sucking any dick on my way up."

Suzy chortled. "I don't mean that, dummy. But there happen to be a lot of female employees, execs, bosses, producers...I'm not saying do what I did, but all I'll say is...it'll get you in the good books."

"And considering what you have to offer..." Seolhyun added, unconsciously licking her lips as her eyes trailed down me.

Despite myself, I felt my cheeks go a bit red. "Thanks, noona."

She blushed a little and giggled.

Suzy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't get her started, Y/N."

"What?"

"Seolhyun has a thing for being called that. Like, a big thing."

"Oh." I said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She smirked. "In fact, that brings us to our next point, in a roundabout way."

"What's your next point?"

"If, as I advise you, you walk my path, play to your higher-up's kinks. Obviously they'll like it anyway it and therefore you'll be in the good books, but if you play to their kinks, it's like an automatic figurative promotion. I remember one time when I was dealing with this one exec who had a mommy kink–"

"Yeah, yeah, we don't need to hear that one." Seolhyun interrupted. "Don't put him off before he even debuts."

"I'm not into that mommy shit, but I can play along to just about anything." The implications of my sentence were not missed by the two of them.

"Oh, can you?" Seolhyun's voice was suddenly lower, quieter. The two exchanged a knowing look, one that spoke more than a book full of words. "What do you think, unnie?"

Suzy nodded at her and looked back at me.

"We'd like to offer you a special...orientation program." Her voice took on the same tone.

"Oh?" My thoughts ran wilder. "And what would such a program entail?"

"Oh, you know..." Seolhyun trailed off as they both rose from their chairs. "Suzy's route."

"Yeah, we'll be sure to tell the execs how good you are...if you're good." They approached.

My pants were feeling uncomfortably tight at that moment, and it did not go unnoticed by them.

"Ooh, he's liking that idea." The two of them moved closer, their thighs rubbing against mine, hands caressing my arms. I was suddenly very aware of Suzy's tiny skirt, Seolhyun's short shorts. "Let's see what we're working with here."

Shrugging out of my blazer as Suzy pulled on it from behind me, I rid myself of the extra layer and loosened my tie. Suzy's hands unbuttoned the buttons on my shirt one by one all the way down and pulled the bottom of it out of my waistband, leaving it on me.

"Oh~" Seolhyun's eyes widened. "He's quite the specimen, unnie."

I flexed my abs and arms for her benefit, and she bit her lip with lust in her eyes. "Can't wait to give this one a test ride, mmm..."

Suzy unbuckled my belt from behind me and slipped it out of its hoops, allowing Seolhyun to slide my pants down my legs and off my Oxford-clad feet.

"Looks like Y/N has a big thing too, unnie...damn."

Suzy came back around to have a look, and she smirked, nodding in approval.

"Nice, now that's a body that's had a hell of a lot of work put into it. And a massive cock, too..."

My face was going red again. "Thank you."

Seolhyun straddled me, sitting comfortably on the straining bulge of my boxers, barely concealing the gasp that left her lips when it rubbed her through her shorts. "Ah, enough niceties, let's get to your orientation."

"One at a time or same time?" asked Suzy.

"One at a time, then both, I wanna see what this kid can do first."

Suzy opened the door and disappeared, leaving me and Seolhyun alone.

Her voice dropped to a growl as she leaned into my ear, slowly rocking her hips on me, pulling my face closer to hers by the tie. "You said you can play along, hm?"

"Uh, yeah, I did."

She pulled back a little, her expression half eagerness and half interest. "Then make sure you do."

With a flourish she stripped off her small top, a sexy lace bra the only thing between me and her full breasts.

"Mm, you like what you see baby?"

"Yes..." I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows, the grinding coming to a sudden halt.

"Y-yes, noona."

She smiled and resumed her grinding. "Good boy."

Something in her tone turned me on, more than the pleasure of her grating her hips on me. Usually I had a slight leaning towards being a dom, but something about her dominant aura pushed me towards the other end of the spectrum.

She got off me and slipped her shorts down her legs, straightening up to reveal her tiny little thong, which left absolutely nothing to the imagination. I caught my breath, cock now furiously straining against the thin fabric of my boxers. She slid back onto me, two millimeters of cloth the only thing keeping her heat off me.

"Can I touch you, noona?"

She moaned quietly at the sensation she was causing herself, and nodded. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip as I reached up and caressed her breasts over the thin lace fabric, pinching her nipples. I slipped a finger under her thong and rubbed her clit.

"Ooh, yes, just like that," she cooed. "You sure know what you're doing, had practice?"

"Yes, noona." I fingered her harder and took my hand off her breast and moved it to her ass, squeezing a moan out of her. She reached up and fondled her own breasts, and she allowed me to reach behind her and unclasp the bra, unleashing her treasures.

I took off my own shirt as she leaned her face down and kissed me, the gyrations starting to get more needy.

"F-fuck, I want you, Y/N." Her breath came out shaky as she found the perfect spot to grind on and jumped on it, increasing the speed of her movements.

I pushed my boxers down past my thighs and finally freed myself, and she gasped. "Oh my god, you're so big..."

She quickly rid herself of her thong and returned to my lap, lining me up with her entrance and slowly sinking down, suppressing a whimper as she felt herself being filled up. I stretched her out inch by inch until her crotch met my base. Her head fell back and she took a second to adjust, before she started to bounce on top of me. My cock was driven in and out of her tight tunnel, and it was overwhelming. She must not've had anyone in a while because she was certainly the tightest I'd ever had. She clenched around me on purpose on the way down, forcing a groan out of my mouth.

"Does it feel good sweetie?"

I didn't answer immediately, mind lost in the sensations she was causing me. Her thin hand slipped around my neck, not gripping but making her assertion clear.

"Does it feel good?" Her voice dropped a little lower.

"Yes, noona."

Her smile returned. "Good boy."

I pressed a finger to her clit, and moved it up and down in time with her bouncing. She kept kneading her own tits, moaning and squealing adorably.

"Fuck, noona, you're tight!" The pleasure was too good, she was going to make me cum. "So tight!"

"I know, hold on baby." She purred. "Don't cum yet."

Doing so was difficult, but I managed to stave off the impending orgasm and let her keep spearing her pussy on me. I brought my hand down on her ass, making her yelp, and she bounced harder, raising her eyebrows.

"Now now, let's – ahh – control ourselves, hmm?"

"Yes, s-sorry noona."

Seolhyun suppressed another cry and gripped my shoulders, humping into me with barely controlled lust.

"Such a nice dick, big and hard for me, yeah?"

I only moaned in reply, meeting her bounces with thrusts, jabbing deeper into her. She clenched around me harder in an involuntary response, failing to muffle her yells on each thrust.

"Noona," I groaned, "what about the–fuck–secretary? Won't she-"

"No, she won't."

I inwardly shrugged and thrusted harder, teetering dangerously on the verge of cumming inside her.

"Fuck, I can't hold on," I gripped her hips and pulled her down, jabbing into her. "Should I pull out?"

"No," she murmured, her eyebrows contracting. "Cum inside me!"

Unable to stave it off any longer, I felt that rush of pleasure, the tensing of my entire body. Her eyes flew open and she gasped at the first spurt. She rode it out until she'd taken every last drop from me, and then relaxed her body. Our heavy breaths eventually slowed, and she got off me and quickly got dressed.

"Fuck, you're good. You'll have no trouble in that area, no trouble at all. Rest up, Suzy will want her turn. And get at least partially dressed, she'll want to strip you too." She paused for a moment. "She's the exact opposite of me in the bedroom. She likes to be dominated."

I smirked widely. "Oh, I don't think I'll have any trouble with that."

She returned the smirk. "Neither do I. Well, have fun..."

I heard the sound of a door opening and shutting behind me, and two female voices outside for a few seconds. I pulled on my pants, got out of the chair, and leaned against it, facing the door. The door opened and Suzy sidled in, hands clasped in front of her. She bit her lip when she caught sight of me, and I got off the desk.

I let her take her time approaching, her hips subtly swaying with each step. She reached me and slid a hand over my bare chest, a small and shy smile on her face. Her demeanor had completely changed, something I was more than willing to take advantage of.

I snaked my hand up her chest and fastened it around her neck. She gasped and bit her lip again, leaning into me. I turned her around and pushed her against the desk, my other hand slithering to her skirt and pulling it up. She moaned as I slipped my hand into her black panties and slowly rubbed her slit.

"Mmm," she whimpered, "ohh yes, that's good..."

"Yeah, you like that baby?"

"Mmhmm," she replied in a high pitched tone, nodding eagerly with her eyes closed. I tightened my grip on her neck, and she inhaled sharply.

"What was that?"

"Yes, daddy..."

"Good girl." I growled in her ear, fingering her harder, and her breathing got faster and heavier.

"Daddy it feels so good," she moaned, then cried out at me circling her clit with my thumb. "Oh please daddy, harder!"

I slipped two fingers into her pussy and moved them around slowly, curling them down into her g-spot. She clutched my arm and took in a deep, shaky breath, mouth falling open.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it," I muttered, busy at work on her pussy. "Cum for me."

"Ohh fuck, faster, please!" I obliged, moving faster and strumming her spots like the strings of a guitar. Her body trembled and her walls clenched around me, almost crushing my fingers. I slipped a third inside her and pushed, now knuckle deep. But I wasn't about to let her cum so quick, I had much more to do to her.

Suzy's eyes had rolled back by the time I pulled my fingers out, and she'd fallen silent in nearly orgasmic bliss. She looked down at my drenched and motionless fingers and immediately put on adorable puppy eyes.

"Please let me cum, daddy," she begged submissively. "Please, I need to cum..."

"Oh, you need to?"

"Yes, daddy, I do..."

I turned her around and bent her over the desk, then resumed my fingering at a much slower pace. She bucked her hips back into my outstretched fingers, whining needily.

"Faster, please!" She pleaded. "I need to cum, please daddy, let me cum, harder, please..."

I slapped her ass and she yelped, clenching around me again. "Be quiet."

"Yes, daddy."

I did pick up the pace a little, and employed my thumb to rub her clit, continuing the spanks since I noticed she enjoyed it. I was feeling an increasing desire to take my pants off and pound her senseless, but I wanted to make her cum with just my fingers first. And I was very, very close to doing so, judging by her facial and vocal expressions.

"So–good–yes–please–cumming!" Her pleas had spiraled into unintelligible babble as she got closer to her climax. "Harder–fuck–gonna cum!"

My shoulder was beginning to feel sore from the exertion I was putting it through, but I ignored it and kept pumping into her, paying special attention to her more sensitive areas and driving her insane with pleasure. Every stroke brought her closer to her release, and finally it was too much for her.

"OH F-FUCK!" Body trembling and writhing, Suzy orgasmed with a loud cry, her juices gushing out over my fingers. Her pussy tensed and spasmed uncontrollably on them.

Noticing her legs wobbling dangerously, I held her up and helped her into the chair. Her face was flushed red and stray strands of hair were sticking to her sweat-sheened forehead.

"D-daddy..." she whimpered, giving me the puppy eyes again, "I want you..."

I rid myself of my pants and boxers and approached her, seeing arousal flare in her eyes at the sight of me.

"Give me your dick, daddy." She sat up and reached forward, grasping my now-hard cock.

I reached down and pulled her hands off. "Hands to yourself, baby girl. Get on your knees."

"Yes, daddy."

She knelt in front of me, and I grabbed her head by her hair and pulled it forward, guiding my cock into her mouth.

"Mmph!" She raised her hands to my thighs and gave them a small nip as my shaft slid down her tight, squeezing throat.

She gagged a bit and struggled, but didn't tap out, instead massaging the underside of my cock with her tongue.

"Mm, such a good girl," I said, twirling her hair around my fingers and pulling her deeper. "Such a good little slut for me."

One of her hands left my leg and I heard an obscene squelch, combined with a moan into my dick. She was getting turned on by the little bit of dirty talk already.

"A stupid little whore, aren't you?" I continued, flinging out whatever dirty names I could fish up from memory of past sub girls. "Just a dirty slut."

She nodded and moaned again, her arm working more furiously beneath her skirt. I gritted my teeth and let my head tip back.

"Fuck, that feels good," I felt her self-pleased smile against my base. "Keep going, baby girl."

She choked and a little saliva ran down her chin, closely followed by a tear from her effort. She took the other hand off my leg and started caressing her own breast, eyes rolling in her head at the pleasure she was giving herself.

Her lower face was slowly becoming a mess of tears mixing with saliva from her sloppy blowjob. The mess she was making of herself clearly turned her on. From what little I could see of the face that was buried in my crotch, her eyebrows were turned up, I could feel her jaw starting to go slack. I gripped her hair harder and thrust my hips harder, drawing nearer to my own orgasm. But I wasn't going to cum before I'd fucked her, so I semi-reluctantly pulled out of her throat. She sat back and caught her breath for a moment before she stood up and bent over the desk, wiggling her ass enticingly.

I pushed into her with absolutely no hesitation, and she was wet enough that I didn't need to play with her any more. She was even tighter than Seolhyun, and I put my hand over her mouth to suppress her loud moan.

"Shhh." I murmured, and let go of her mouth. "Keep that pretty little mouth quiet."

I started thrusting into her, fast and steady. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk and she gritted her teeth to keep from making noise. I reached forward and grabbed her hair, forming it into a rough ponytail and pulling her head back.

"Daddy, it's too good, I can't hold b-back," she moaned, biting her lip. "You're so big, fuck..."

I fucked her faster, the desk creaking a little under the repeated motion. I could tell she was trying her best to keep herself from crying out, but I also knew it was coming.

"F-fuck, I can't...I can't...keep...quiet..."

She was shaking with suppressed pleasure and bucking her hips back on me. I slapped her ass, making her squeal, and pulled on her hair harder. Her tight hole compressed around my cock like it was made for me, the perfect balance between ease and resistance. I pushed two of my fingers on my other hand into her mouth, and she started sucking on them, moaning quietly.

"Give me more, please, daddy," she murmured, voice barely audible. "Faster, please...nghh yes keep going!"

My hips smacked against her thick ass with each thrust, the claps reverberating around the small room. I took my hand away from her mouth and brought it down to her clit, rubbing circles and pressing down, making the volume increase dramatically.

"Didn't I tell you to stay quiet?" I smacked her ass again.

"A-ah! Yes, daddy, I'm s-sorry!"

"Good." I resumed my fingering, making her whimper in her effort. It only took a few seconds of determined caressing of her clit to bring her resolve crumbing down once more.

"Fuck! It's so good daddy, please don't stop! Yes, yes, yes, more!"

I pulled out of her pussy and spanked her plump ass again. "Guess you're getting punished, baby girl."

"No, please! Please don't stop, I'm so close!" She desperately bucked her hips, trying to get me to fuck her again.

I didn't reply, but hauled her onto the desk and spread her legs, reaching forward to choke her. She gasped at the sensation of my head pressing into her pussy again, but nodded after a moment.

I snapped my hips forward and, due to how slick my cock was from her slick, easily pushed most of my length into her, drawing a guttural groan from her. She looked at me with pleading eyes, her expression indicating just how needy she was.

"Fuck my pussy hard, daddy," she breathed, "pound me like I'm your little slut."

"You are my little slut." I gripped her neck tighter and started my thrusts at a slower pace, still powerful. "Understood?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl."

She shuddered and moaned, eyes rolling back in her head as I fucked her.

"Ohh yes, that feels so good..." she whined, hands still clutching the table's edge. "God yes, please keep going..."

"Shut up." I said "This is your punishment, remember?"

"Mmhmm!" She nodded vigorously. "It's my–fuck–punishment..."

I spanked her ass again and drove my cock into her faster. This hadn't been what I'd expected when I'd come in here, but I certainly wasn't complaining about the outcome.

"I'm gonna cum," I growled in her ear. "And you're going to take it all like a good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy," she gasped, her walls tightening around me as she bucked her hips. "I want all your cum in me!"

Her words sent me over the edge, and with a groan I buried myself inside her pussy and exploded, firing my hot cum deep into her womb. A rush of pleasure flowed through me, sending the feeling everywhere from my fingers to my toes. My muscles tightened and contracted, involuntarily sending my hips into her ass again. She jerked and trembled as the waves of orgasmic pleasure overtook her too, a powerful jet of cum spraying me.

"Fuck, daddy, yes!" She screamed, back arching. "S-so fucking good, yes!"

I pulled out of her pussy and collapsed back into the chair, sufficiently tired out for the time being. Her legs relaxed and fell into a resting position, and she slumped back and laid down.

...

It was a little while before either of us found the energy to do much other than pant and sit there resting. I heard the door creak open, looked over the top of the chair, and saw half of Seolhyun's grinning face peeking through the small opening.

"Yes?"

She smiled wider and closed the door, eyes raking over Suzy's slumped and naked form before doing so. I stood up and pushed the chair aside, went to and opened the door, and gestured Seolhyun in.

"You up for another round?" She asked immediately.

"Hell yes. Think Suzy's out, though."

"I want to ride your face." Her words were clear and decisive. I was entirely okay with that, so I laid down on my back on the carpeted floor. She then stripped off the large nightshirt she'd covered with and stood over my face, giving me an incredible view of everything she had to give. With no further ado she lowered her pussy onto my awaiting mouth and started grinding. I had a perfect visual of her softly whining and caressing her own breasts as she rubbed her slit against my tongue, which was prodding, swiping, and licking any part of her that was sensitive. She let out soft moans, moving her hips back and forth and pleasuring herself on my mouth.

As I was busy eating her out, I heard a creak from the desk and soft footsteps on the plush carpet. A minute later, Suzy's hands slid over my thighs and my cock was suddenly enveloped in a warmth which I could only assume to be her mouth. I groaned into Seolhyun's pussy and kept up my exertions, very quickly pushing her to her climax.

"Oh, fuck, just like that baby," she moaned, biting her lip and closing her eyes. Her eyebrows contracted as I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue. "Oh yes, I'm gonna cum!"

I worked my tongue harder, pushing into her entrance firmly. She shuddered and her legs tensed around my head, a sure sign of her approaching orgasm.

"Oh, you're so good at this, fuck! Oh god yes yes, don't stop!" I smirked, my ego stroked, and bucked my own hips a little into Suzy's mouth. Her tongue disappeared from my shaft momentarily and then something much wetter, much tighter pressed down on it. I let my head fall back a little as she impaled her warm, throbbing pussy on my cock, the pleasure doubling. I heard a loud cry from behind Seolhyun and I automatically started thrusting up into her.

For several minutes more, Suzy fucked me and I tonguefucked Seolhyun. She had been reduced to mindless pleas for more, body on autopilot as she gyrated her hips on my face. I was apparently way better with my tongue than I thought, and it was only a few more seconds before all three of us reached our peaks at the same time.

I went first, blowing up her pussy with a deluge of hot jizz that triggered her to cum; her warm juices splattered my abs and ran down my sides. Seolhyun's grinding sped up exponentially and then with a scream she met her orgasm. Her cum squirted into my waiting mouth and she fell back into Suzy's lap with an exhausted moan. We all stayed there for a moment more, basking in the after-orgasm bliss, before a notification pinged Seolhyun's phone. She picked it up, read the message, and scoffed. I looked up and could make out a text from one of her superiors:

"Having fun?"

She looked over at the security camera in the corner and gave it a sarcastic wave before putting down her phone and getting up. She dressed again quickly and left.

Suzy stood up clumsily a second later, a small trickle of my cum falling onto my abs. She too got dressed and left, leaving me alone in Seolhyun's office. I stood up, wiped my own cum off my abs with a paper towel, and put my boxers and pants back on. From what I could hear outside, one of the superiors had come down to see what was going on, judging by the voices outside.

"–yes, he was amazing. He knows his stuff." Seolhyun's voice said.

"Suzy?" said a male voice.

"Yes, he's such a good dom, he's so sexy and confident..." She said.

"Good, good. Yet another attribute we can add to the list of perfections. He's sure to be a hit soon enough."

I smiled and pulled away from the door, ego points going through the roof right about then. The conversation continued for a couple more minutes, then the door opened and one of my managers came in, dressed in a suit and tie.

"Ah, Y/N." He said briskly. "If you'll be so kind as to put on a shirt, you've been requested by one of your producers. He wants to talk about your title track, something about the lead sounds on the track. I really have no idea what the issue is, but he said he needs you right away."

I pulled my shirt over my head and refastened my tie around it, leaving the blazer on the chair. "He's been fussing about that for about a week. Might as well go see what we can improve."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll follow me..."

I followed him out the door and into the hall, where Suzy and Seolhyun were both standing, still flushed red. I threw Suzy a wink as I passed and she blushed harder, giggling. A satisfied smirk back on my face and confidence swelling within me, I followed the manager down the hall towards the studio, feeling that things could only go well from here.

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Dream of You (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: YES! Requested by @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation

TW: Smut. so much smut.

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

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Giggles and breathy laughter fills the room. Shared glances and touches of desire. You laid in Spike's arms satiated and content. Your body marked and sore. Nights like this were things if novellas and steamy dreams. Spike caressed your hair as he whispered how proud he was of how well you took him. You blushed and smiled. You wanted this to be forever. You wanted it to be real. You reach for his skin, but it's gone. You're left alone, again in your own bed.

You wake up aroused and moist, again. These dreams are a nightly recurrence, something of routine. Your desire for your dear friend Spike was getting out of hand. You wanted him not just on but inside you. However, you would be mortified if he found out. 

You get out of bed and go straight for a shower. On a lazier day you would play with yourself to meet some of those needs. Today you were in a hurry. It was your nightly date-ish with Spike. You would sit around his crypt and watch tv. You wanted to make sure you ran all your errands before nightfall.

Most of the day is spent running around town, getting things for tonight. You were sure to get all of Spike's favorites, including a couple of blood bags from the butcher. Before heading to the cemetery you decide to pop into The Magic Shop.

"I just need bone powder and it'll be done" Willow commented to Buffy. 

"I'd rather not grind out demon bones." Buffy responded. 

"No, silly. It's on the top shelf to your left."

Willow continued making her spell. She worked diligently to make sure all the ingredients and words were correct. 

"Hello, peeps. What it do?" Y/n walks into the store. 

The scoobies greet y/n as she walks up to Willow. 

"What are you up to?" Y/n asks Willow directly.

"Oh, a truth spell!"

"Who are we truthing?"

"Spike."

"Spike!" Your voice gets a pitch higher.

"Yep. Buffy thinks he's being dishonest, and she needs information from him."

"Don't you need his hair for that?"

Willow pulls out a small vial with blondish hair. "Got it." She grins. 

You look nervous but say nothing. You feel out of place, but you stay. You make sure to be helpful and calm. You didn't know why Spike being under a truth spell made you uncomfortable. You mulled over the ethics of what your friends were doing but instead you came up with an idea. If Willow casts the spell while you were with Spike you could ask him how he feels about you. You're quick to gather yourself and head out with a quick goodbye. 

You basically skip all the way to Spike's crypt.

As you enter the crypt you hear Spike running around downstairs. He hears the door and runs up to the main floor. 

"Don't close that door!" He yells

It was too late; you had shut the door. Spike looks frustrated. He sighs in exasperation. 

"What?" You ask.

"I've been trapped in here for 2 days the bloody door is stuck and only opens from the outside."

"Oh... uh oh." It dawns on you that you're now trapped with Spike. You feel giddy but scared. How long will it take for someone to bust in through that door. Worst, now you can't question Spike while he's under the truth spell. If he says he feels the same shenanigans can ensue, but if he says no than you're trapped here with your shame. 

You wring your hands nervously. Spike walks up to you unsure if to shake you or hug you. He notices the care basket you made for them.

"What's this?" He points to the basket. 

"Well, the plan was for us to watch trash tv and eat junk food. I even brought baggies of blood for you. But I guess our plan is to survive." You take a long look at the door. 

Spike palms his face in frustration. Of course, his planned "date" night with you would be ruined. Suddenly he perks up. If the door is shut for now that means you would have to stay with him, share his space... share his bed. 

He takes you by the hand and leads you to the couch he found in the dumpster. 

"Let's make the most of it." He grins. 

You nod and sit back. You spent the night watching tv and eating. It was 2am and your eyes were drooping. Spike noticed and turned off the tv. 

"You can take the bed." He mumbled as he walked you down to his room.

You're suddenly awake. His bed. You can share it. Wait... are you even ready for that intimacy. You risk it. 

"We can share. I trust you" you say cheeks burning red. 

Spike is chipper but downplays it. He assents and lets you lay down. 

"I'll be down in a bit." Spike tucks you in and scurries back to the couch.

You find it hard to fall asleep. Your heartbeat in your ears. You were sharing your crush's bed, and you were stuck with him. What is this a Wattpad story? Eventually, your eyes close and you're off to dreamland. 

Soft touches and passionate gazes. Bodies intertwined in lust and love. You breathe hard finding your sanity as Spike thrusts into you at a steady pace. Your eyes are rolled back into your head. Chest down, ass up, you were at his mercy. He grabs your hair keeping you in place. Your moans are lewd and loud. You feel yourself closer to the edge, closer to release. His hand finds your swollen bud and plays with it in circles. It makes you see stars. You're climbing, soaring, so close to your release. 

"Y/n"

You can’t speak.

"Y/n!" 

You awake in a startle. Your eyes adjust to see Spike over you. You pull the covers up to your chest as your brain adjusts and remembers where you're at. 

"Are you okay?" Spike asks

"Y- yes... why?" 

"You were mumblin' in your sleep. At some point you were yellin'. "

You blush ferociously. "Did I say anything?"

"Nah, love. I couldn’t make it out. 

You sigh in relief. He looks at you confused. 

"It was probably a bad dream" you mumble. You turn around and pretend to go back to sleep to avoid further questions. 

It's 4pm and you and Spike are wide awake and bored. You try to open the door to no luck. 

"Stop, pet. I already tried."

You sigh and turn to him. "What now?"

Spike walks to the couch and turns on the tv again. You give up, not knowing what to do, and sit by him. 

"Do you have any friends?" You ask

"No. Partners in crime, yes. Friends, no."

"Do you get bored of being a vampire?"

"No. I kill, I shag, and I sleep."

"Do you -" you're cut off

"Wha is this, 20 questions?" He turns to you annoyed. 

"I’m bored. Let's play a card game."

Spike obliges. He finds a deck of cards and you spent the next several hours playing cards in silence.

"I’m bored again." It was 8pm. 

"Let me ask you questions then." Spike grinned. 

You nodded, nervously. 

"Who was your first kiss?"

"Robert in third grade. Sloppy kisser."

"Cheeky."

"Who was your first love?"

"Jason in college. A real gentleman. Before you ask, we broke up because he developed a coke addiction."

"A real gentleman, indeed."

"Who's your last love?" Spike leaned in expectantly. 

You chuckled, nervous. "What? No question on who I lost my virginity to?" You tried to change the subject.

"It ain' Xander, is it?"

"I’m tired. More questions tomorrow, okay?"

Before he could respond you book it to Spike’s room. You lay down and close your eyes real tight in the hopes that Spike didn't trail after you. 

Dim lights and rustling. The scent of sex in the air. You're laid out, open and exposed. Spike is nowhere in sight. You feel slight pressure on your clit. You gasp as it increases. You look down to see a head of blonde hair. Your eyes widen as you notice what was happening. Spike's tongue played with your folds. He lavished your insides with his mouth. Your breath labored as you grabbed the sheets of the bed for dear life. He made sure to take his time. To memorize every crevice and nook you had to offer. He became drunk with your scent, your taste. You moaned his name like a Gregorian chant while he worshipped you. You felt your lower abdomen tighten as he lapped at your slit, rolling circles around it. You knew he would give you the best orgasm of your life and you were ready for it. You begged him for release. He prayed your juices would wash over his mouth so he could memorize your taste. You feel unstable, as if someone is shaking the bed. The movements becomes more prominent.

You wake up, groggy, disoriented. Spike, again staring down at you. 

"Love, are you okay? You were repeating my name over and over again."

"Um... I had a nightmare... about you...?"

"What about me?"

"Uhhh... You were being attacked... by a uh... demon! And I was scared for you." 

Spike is confused but takes your explanation as true. 

"What time is it?" You try to change the subject. 

"5pm."

You jump out of bed. "We gotta get out of here." You say for your sanity. 

Back at the Magic Shop Willow was ready to do her truth spell. All her ingredients in place and determination in her mind. Sadly, she had taken an extra ingredient in with all the others, a strand of your hair. As Willow works on the, unbeknownst to her, ruined spell Buffy beelined it to Spike's crypt. 

Back at the crypt only arguing can be heard. 

"You're acting weird." Spike accused.

"I’m just tired of being here!"

"So, you're tired o' me?"

"I didn't say that." You turn to him, exhausted and embarrassed. 

Pounding comes from the outside of the crypt. Buffy kicks down the door and goes straight for Spike. You're left standing there. 

"Where's the next big bad?" Buffy questioned Spike. 

"I already told you; I don't know." Spike looks helpless.

"You're lying. Why is the spell not working" Buffy shakes Spike. 

"What spell?" Spike asks.

"A truth spell for you." You chime in without your consent. 

Both Spike and Buffy look at you. Spike was surprised and Buffy annoyed. You were confused at your own statement. You didn't intend to tell the truth. 

Buffy punches Spike a couple of times before questioning him again. When she didn't get an answer, she dropped him and walked away furious. 

You just stand there until you remember your fight with Spike. You had to get out of there. 

"Oh, no you don't" Spike grabs your forearms. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I've been having sexual dreams about you." You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Your free hand flies to your mouth. You mentally reprimand yourself. 

Spike takes in what you said. A grin painted on his face.

"You don't say, love. Out of curiosity, what are we doing in these sexual dreams" He leans in. 

Your eyes widen and your mouth starts moving. You tell him about the lewd and lustful acts you have dreamed about. You confess to waking up wet and pent up. You put yourself out there in display for him to ravage the carnage of your secrets. 

Spike's face hurts from smiling so wide. 

"Now tell me, why would you have these dreams about us?"

You try to bite your tongue but it's too late, "Cause I’m in love with you."

Spike wastes no time claiming your mouth. He memorizes how you taste, how soft your lips are, the way you closed your eyes to kiss him. 

"Ler me show you what I can really do." He whispers against your lips. 

He picks you up bridal style and walks you down to his bedroom. With care he places you on his bed. He climbs on top of you, kissing you as he settles between your legs. 

Impatient, you start tugging at his clothes trying to get them off. 

"Easy. All in its due time." He says. 

He trails kisses down you jaw to your neck, nipping on his way down. Carefully, he removes your shirt and your bra. You resist the urge to cover yourself from his prying eyes. His gaze is lustful, like a predator eyeing his prey. 

His mouth makes a path between you neck all the way to your breast. With great care he places his mouth on your left nipple, giving it the attention it deserved. With his right hand he massaged your right breast. All synchronous so as to stimulate you and prepare you for what’s coming next. He alternated between breasts, sending little jolts of pleasure through your body. 

With little haste he made his way to your abdomen and found his way to his prize. He nestled himself between your legs inhaling your scent. Without much wait he dived in, lapping at your folds, twisting his tongue on your clit, memorizing your taste. 

You gripped the bed sheets as hard as you could. Your back arching, reaching for him. Your body was alive and electric. He didn't slow down his assault, giving you no space for a deep breath. You moan and beg. You're at odds with yourself. You need release but want to savor the moment.

Spike is observant of the rise and fall of your chest. He tracks your moans and whimpers as he plays with speed and pressure. He has never been this hungry. He decided that he wants to have you wash over him. He wants your release. He inserts two fingers in you while still lapping at your clit. He chases your orgasm with his nimble hands and expert tongue. You swear that your soul is being exorcised out of your body as you crash and spill all over with your release. You're a whimpering, shaking mess. You gasp for air as you slowly land back in your body. 

As you look down you see Spike, still between your legs, grinning. Pleased but not satisfied, yet. You make a move to stand up, but he's on you faster than you can speak. He claims your mouth, inviting you to taste yourself on his lips. You're drunk on your own taste on his tongue. 

As you passionately make out, Spike makes quick work of his clothes. He's ready to claim you. You're giddy and pliant. 

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" He asks.

You nod, unable to form a single word. 

When he finally releases his erection from his pants you're surprised. How are you going to take all of him? He's so big and hard. Spike can read the uncertainty in your face. He cups your cheek gently and places his forehead against yours. 

"It'll be alright. If it's too much just tap me on the arm and I'll stop."

You nod again, determined. 

He teases your entrance and clit by rubbing the head of his cock back and forth. Slowly entering you every now and then but then retreating from your entrance, so as to prepare you for his size. Your whimpers fill the room. You want him so much. He can tell you're getting impatient, so he aligns himself and slowly enters you. He stays still, letting you acclimate to his size. Your breath is labored, you're almost delirious with pleasure. You can't believe this is happening. 

He slowly moves, rocking back and forth, giving you a rhythm to hold on to. You moan in tandem. Your eyes brimming in tears from the pleasure. 

"Look at you, taking me so well." Spike praises you. 

You give a lustful smile, too lost to register his words. 

He picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, in and out. Giving you what you asked for. Giving you heaven on earth. You beg for him to go deeper. You needed him completely. Spike chuckles and thrusts harder. His movements are rough and long, giving you a chance to feel every vein and curvature on his cock. You push up against him with your hips, meeting his every thrust. He looks down at you, drunk on sex, admiring how beautiful you look out of breath and disheveled. 

He feels your legs shaking. He can tell you're close. 

"Are you gonna come for me, love? I want to hear you say my name. Remember who’s taking you.”

You can barely nod as you chase your orgasm, focusing on his movements. Taking him all into you. Memorizing how he feels and how he makes you feel. 

Your body ceases and you gasp as your orgasm crashes over you, like a tidal wave. Your veins are full of electricity. You’re seeing stars. You hold onto him while you repeat his name, over ad over again. Music to his ears. Spike holds you, never stopping his fierce thrusts. He wants you to remember who is claiming you.

"Good girl" he litters your face with kisses as you work to regain your breath. 

Spike never slows down, chasing his own high. Seeing you spent and tired knowing that he caused it makes him inch closer. He continues to thrust in you, sending aftershock ripples into you as he finds his own release. He fills you to the brim with his seed. He makes you his. 

You both stay connected. Breathing heavy. Satiated and in awe. He eventually pulls out of you with a little shiver. He lays down by your side pulling you close to him. You're both silly with pleasure, spent and happy. 

"Wow." Was all you could say.

"There's more where that came from. Rest up, because we have a lot of catching up to do."

You giggle, giddy for what your future with Spike holds. To think, all of these restless nights craving him and all you had to do was confess your love. You knew once the sun rises you’ll be tired and sore. Something that you’re looking forward to.

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 3 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut

♡ Rated: T for Treachery 

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! 

♡ Chapter Warnings: Jungkook is really repressed, su*cidal thoughts (somewhat vague), cheating, masturbation (m), edging, mentions of substance abuse (alcohol), horny thoughts, public sex (kinda), lots of making out, dry humping, thigh fucking kinda (m), premature ejaculation(ish?), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (nope!)

♡ Word Count: 34.5k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Low by SZA— see masterlist for playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover @teawithhoneyandlemon and @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: This chapter was such a pain to get done 😭, but please enjoy this behemoth of a chapter! Nice and spicy with a side of tears! My specialty~ This is like the true part 1 of the series so ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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Jungkook yawned and tried to blink away the tears that had formed to soothe his stinging, dry eyes. A sigh escaped his lips before he turned his head to face the clock that sat ticking away on his nightstand. 

6:58am.

Nearly a whole hour until his phone would begin buzzing and the drum solo he set as his alarm would go off. He still had some time to get the sleep he needed, yet no matter what he did, Jungkook couldn’t drift off like he wanted to. He had a long day ahead of him, normally he would never wake up this early, but today of all days, this had to happen.

Jungkook had gone to bed thinking about you. It started off simple, it was like a routine. He would usually take some time to establish a checklist for his next day, especially during times like these where he was normally so busy. Yuri had rested peacefully beside him while he stared at the ceiling trying to remember everything he had planned for tomorrow. It was just meant to be a reminder to himself that he couldn’t go home early, that he couldn’t forget to meet you after work, that he needed to make sure to text the chef not to wait on him to make it home, and that he had to tell Yuri he wasn’t going to be back ‘till late, not that she really even cared. But the second you entered his train of thought, that was enough to keep you in his head, and in consequence, the moments with you the day before started replaying in his mind as he tried to finally close his eyes and go to sleep.

He thought about how impressive you were during your presentation. You were settling into your new role so well; it was astounding to witness. You were always so poised, confident, and everyone admired you, he did too. Later that day, you both would be working alone together. Maybe it was the time he could ask you how you do it.

Then his mind drifted to his brief moment he spent talking to you. Why was he so awkward? The embarrassment made him bury his head in the pillow, a sad attempt to shield himself from the memory of your confused gaze meeting his eyes while his panicked brain tried to find the words he wanted to say. Why did he always find it hard to speak to you like a normal person? It was about work and he’d even practiced what to say during the meeting. However, like always, the minute he tapped your shoulder and you turned around to look at him, his brain just went blank.

That made him think about you even more, your expression as he stumbled over his words while he asked you to stay late with him. He didn’t know when it happened, but his attention had drifted from your face and zoomed in on the purple blouse you wore yesterday— you had looked really good. 

With thoughts of you on his mind, finally Jungkook was able to turn his brain off to the point he could sleep for a few hours. However, even in his slumber, he wasn’t safe from being bombarded with thoughts of you and your meeting. His tired mind thought about your blouse and running the silk between his fingers. He imagined your face, your red-tinted lips, and he thought about how confident you were during the presentation. You had led the meeting so well despite how quickly he knew you had to prepare for it. 

He had no idea how it happened, but instead of him sitting back and watching you from the head of the table like he remembered, suddenly he was facing the board room; you were now in front of him, on the table, and in his arms. Your skirt was bunched around your waist— he hadn’t seen it happen, but he knew it was because of him. Your lips were hastily chasing his and your arms were wrapped around his neck, clutching on to him for dear life as he pounded into you right there on the meeting table.

You made such pretty sounds for him— he wished he could recall them better when he woke up, all his hazy mind could remember in good detail was how nice it felt to be inside you. You felt so good, every move he made inside your warmth had him feeling like he was on the verge of losing his mind. Tears filled his eyes quicker than he thought possible— but then, he was actually crying.

Jungkook had pulled away. He didn’t know when, but suddenly he was staring at the blurred faces of all the executives that were in the meeting room.

“He’s pathetic.”

“I can’t believe he’s cheating on his wife.”

“He’s just like his parents.”

“Bastard.”

“Why would we trust someone like him to run the company?”

He couldn’t pick apart the voices, but the prosecution was distinct, and he heard every word so clearly. They never moved, he couldn’t even see their faces, but their words had tears rolling down his cheeks like a riverbank after a summer storm. They wouldn’t stop, but neither could he because you just felt so fucking good he could care less about what they say at this point. Jungkook was so desperate, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were in the middle of the most devastating, earth-shattering, cosmic event where the walls were crumbling around him and the floor was ready to swallow him whole; nothing was going to stop him from feeling you.

Nevertheless, the voices were all so loud in the background, it was mind numbing. He just wanted to enjoy this, but he knew he didn’t deserve to. They were right after all, what was he doing?! His body wanted it more than words could describe, but his mind was constantly telling him he shouldn’t do this, that he needed to listen and remember his wife, to remember Yuri, except he couldn’t. The fact that the judgmental remarks of the executives weren’t enough to stop him in his quest to have you, spoke volumes, and it just made the ache in his heart even worse.

Jungkook yearned to remember more of you instead of the accusations, like how it felt to have you that close. He wished he took in every detail— your expression as he pushed inside you, your lips against his, or recalled if he got the chance to kiss the exposed skin revealed by your off-the-shoulder, purple blouse like he had wanted to all day.

When he woke up, his room was still dark, his face was wet with sweat and tears, and he was painfully hard. It hurt so much, Jungkook panicked at first as he reached under the cover hoping his sinful dream hadn’t resulted in a mess— Yuri would hate him so much if it did. That happened once and she’d screamed at him all day about how disgusting he was. But no, this wasn’t that type of dream, but a dream nonetheless that created a horrible problem.

In desperation, Jungkook looked over to Yuri, who was still sleeping next to him, and considered waking her up to help him. Would she? He’s tried his best to do everything she asked, but he knew it would only make her hate him further.

Everything Jungkook did made her hate him even more.

And fixing this himself was off the table— he couldn’t stoop to a level that low. He’d done well for so long, he wouldn’t give up now; it’s what he kept telling himself, but everything inside his body was screaming for him to run to the bathroom and fix this. But how pitiful would that be?

He couldn’t, he just fucking couldn’t. It’s just been so long, too long…

Jungkook both wished and dreaded for Yuri to wake up. He didn’t want her to see him like this, he knew he looked pitiful right now, but he knew she’d make him forget about his dream in no time.

There was no excuse, the only person who he should be fantasizing about is his wife; but you, you just won’t leave him alone. With your short skirts, pretty red lips, and unwavering confidence. It’s only gotten worse as the months have passed— so much worse, he could hardly look at you without remembering what his sinful imagination had pictured of you. He was so disgusting, so fucking disgusting.

Every day he hoped Yuri would put him out his misery— in his most desperate moments, he’d thought about telling her what’s filled his imagination, wishing that it would make her fuck the thoughts of his coworker out of him.

His frustration has affected his marriage, he knew that. He’d been so irritable these days, how in the world could he be the perfect husband if he really couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for five seconds? But he was trying, he really was, but not hard enough.

That’s why he’d been laying here for the last twenty minutes. He had to be on his best behavior, he had to show Yuri he really was trying— no matter how much it hurt, he wouldn’t give into such deplorable urges. He wanted to be good for her. 

At first, Jungkook tried to go back to sleep. The minute he opened his eyes and felt his problem, he’d just hope going back to bed would be the solution. He’d tried to get comfortable, pulling up the covers again, but the minute he shut his eyes all he could see was you and your bunched up skirt while he pounded you into the table.

Jungkook hated sleeping on his stomach, he never knew why he ended up like that when he’d fallen asleep lying on his back or his side sometimes— but the position had his hips hastily chasing into the mattress searching for some type of friction. And it only got worse as he imagined you laying right underneath him.

He flipped over so he was on his back, but his pajama pants and even the covers caused enough friction for his mind to go back to the dream. Your red lips against his, bodies hot and heavy, panting and pleading for—

He’s spent the last twenty minutes tossing and turning, trying to force himself to go back to sleep. He had a long day ahead of him, he needed to sleep, but it just hurt so fucking much. He wanted to cum— he couldn’t even remember the last time he did that. Has it really been that long since Yuri came back from that New Years Party?

Fuck, he wanted to be good, he’d wait, he’d wait until she wanted him again, but—

Tears pricked Jungkook’s eyes as his hand slid underneath his shirt, feeling his hot skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. 

But it just hurt so much. He really shouldn’t be doing this.

Jungkook thought about Yuri, how much he wished she was awake. She was wearing those tiny shorts again, the ones she knew drove him crazy. If things were different, if he was a better husband, how nice it would have been to just push her shorts slightly to the side— feel her warmth, Yuri always felt so good.

Jungkook wouldn’t even have the patience to get on top, his neediness only allowed for him to swiftly pull his pants down, get one hand under her tank top, and use the other to push her shorts slightly to the side as he’d take her.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t stop his mouth or his hand as it started playing with the waistband of his pants. But you and your damn purple blouse. The one that showed off your shoulders and collarbones. Jungkook imagined in his dream that he’d kissed, sucked, and painted them with small bruises. Maybe you would have made more of those pretty sounds—

Jungkook stared wide eyed at the ceiling as he felt his hand slip past his waistband and grasp onto his throbbing length.

Oh no.

The tears quickly started welling up in his eyes again.

He didn’t even have the decency to commit such an act in private. The bathroom was just right there, but in the moment it felt so far away as he slowly started moving his hand. Jungkook tried his best to choke back the moan as his fingers made it to the tip, he was so sensitive— it felt so wrong, but all he could picture as they came back down was you on that table.

Your blouse, your skirt bunched up, your lips on his, your warmth— fuck, why did something so wrong feel so good? Jungkook tried to tell himself this was just to relieve the pain, but you just wouldn’t let him go.

“Oh no…” He tried to sob quietly as his hand started speeding up. He was so fucking pathetic. Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough, or maybe Yuri was just waking up, she’d normally be in the shower before his alarm even went off. Yuri steadily lifted her head and turned to face him.

“Jungkook, what the hell?” She grumbled. She sounded tired, maybe he really had been too loud.

He looked at her, but his vision became blurry as the tears in his eyes grew heavier. He still was able to see her eyes dart down to the tent under the comforter. He probably looked like a deer trapped in headlights as his whole body froze.

“What are you doing?!” She looked distraught.

He hurriedly tried to blink away the tears. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe that dream had actually made him lose his mind, but that burn, that need, just wasn’t subsiding like he knew it should.

“Yuri, please…” His voice was soft, but he was begging.

Yuri pulled back the covers and was able to see in as much glory as the sunrise would allow, his hand that had slipped into his pajama pants, and the hand that was still underneath his shirt. Jungkook had never felt more pathetic, but his body pleaded, no, begged for more.

Yuri just continued to stare at him.

“I had a dream and— I tried so hard to go back to sleep— so hard, I promise I really did.” He was trying his best not to cry but he could feel the hatred brewing behind her dark gaze. He knew she was disappointed. How does he always fuck everything up?

He probably would have crumbled into pieces and started bawling right then and there if her hands didn’t come up and grab his wrists. He was so confused, but she didn’t give him much time to process as she pinned his hands over his head and climbed into his lap— sitting right where he needed her.

He probably could have come by that action alone if only he wasn’t so ashamed.

“Yuri!” He gasped. She was so close, he could feel her so well, those fucking shorts not doing much at all, it was taking everything in him to not rip them off.

“You’re such a mess.” She mumbled, looking down at him.

“I know… I’m sorry…” He wanted her to forgive him just this once. 

Jungkook almost screamed when he felt her hips rock slowly, making him hurriedly chase into hers. 

“Please, please, please!” He moaned. His whole body burned, ached, pleaded— he wanted so much more.

“Mmmm, you know how pathetic you look like this?” Yuri chuckled as she ground down a little harder. He couldn’t even imagine how he looked right now.

“I’m so sorry.” He cried, because he genuinely was. He was so sorry she had to be married to him.

“What is it that you want anyway?” She asked like it wasn’t obvious with how hard he was underneath her. He was going to go crazy at this point.

“It’s been so long since we— I— please— I want to fuck you so badly— it hurts so much.” Jungkook normally wasn’t so blunt, but his lust-filled mind only allowed for the equivalent of getting on his knees and begging her to forgive him just this once and put him out of his misery.

It’s been ten months.

Yuri laughed but sped up her pace.

“Fuck!” Jungkook whined, his eyes welling up all over again. He wished he could touch her; his hands running under her tank top or grabbing onto her waist as he pushed her shorts to the side so he could finally feel her. What he would have given to do that.

“Whose fault is that? It was your dick that wouldn’t work the last time.” She was laughing at him. His eyes burned from the tears that continued to fill his eyes, but he needed more.

She was right. It was his fault. Why couldn’t he just get his shit together that day? He knew he wouldn’t get another chance like that again, yet he still couldn’t do it. It was embarrassing.

Jungkook looked intently at where their bodies connected. His erection was so obvious, he wasn’t wearing any underwear so he could clearly see it as she ran over his length. Every time she’d rock forward the tip would almost push past the waistband, red, angry, and staring back at him with shame. He whined at the sight. He couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like if he could take off his pants and she wasn’t wearing those shorts.

She really would feel so good… how the hell did he pass this up back in April?

“I’m sorry.” That’s the only thing he could do, apologize. He felt so bad.

“And you’re crying, again?” She laughed in disbelief. Yes, yes he was; both in the fact he was ashamed, but she’d also been working him far longer than his deprived mind could take, and he wanted to finish. He only needed a little more.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Her voice was laced with honey, yet reeked of poison. She was so upset at him. Jungkook couldn’t even look at her anymore, he just hurriedly nodded, hoping she’d understand.

“You could cum just from this?” Yuri asked like she was actually curious.

“I will, soon.” There was no point in hiding it.  “I wish I could be inside you though— but I’ll take anything if you’ll let me finish.” How badly he wished she’d let him push her shorts to the side, but that didn’t matter anymore. All he needed was to be done with this pent-up frustration, maybe then he could get himself together again. 

This seemed to interest Yuri in some way, because she finally picked up the pace and started grinding on top of him. The tears spilled from Jungkook’s eyes as his whole body prepared for the release he craved more than anything right now. 

“Yuri please, please, please, please!” Jungkook cried and he couldn’t repeat it enough times for her to get it. He was close and all he could ask for was her forgiveness just this once. He knew this was his fault and he’d try and make it up to her in any way he could. 

He was so close, so fucking close— so hot, this position was so hot. He desperately wanted to touch her, but he liked being underneath her like this.

He only tried to hold back for a second, hoping at the last minute she’d hurl those stupid shorts across the room, get a condom, and he’d finally feel her like he’d been wanting for months. However, that only lasted for a second before he was sure he was about to spiral off the edge he craved. But it didn’t matter how much Jungkook pleaded, because right when his cries couldn’t get any more mangled and desperate, she stopped. She stopped and was off his lap before he could hardly comprehend his orgasm was snatched away. 

Yuri didn’t say much for once. She just hopped off the bed and looked at him for a little while.

“Somehow you keep getting more pitiful. Get your shit together, Jeon. This will never work if you don’t.” Was all she said with a dramatic eye roll, before she was marching out of the bedroom and leaving Jungkook alone.

Again.

Jungkook just sat there for a second, trying to comprehend what just happened. But his body didn’t allow for much because he still felt like he was five seconds away from exploding.

He hurriedly scurried over to the bathroom and set the shower to the coldest setting possible, he didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before jumping in.

As the cold water soaked his hair, his clothes, and finally started to cool his burning skin, that’s when the real tears began to flow. Because no cold water could stop how much he wanted to reach down and finish himself off. It would be so easy now that he was alone, but Jungkook couldn’t allow himself to stoop so low. 

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He’s already disappointed her so much. 

Jungkook let himself sink to the floor.

He felt as if he was incapable of being a good husband; really, a good person. He was awful. Jungkook was such a disappointment, a failure, a pathetic human being who only brought agony to the people he cared about the most. He was making everyone’s lives so fucking miserable…

Yuri deserved a good husband, it shouldn’t be that hard to at least be decent, yet he couldn’t even do just that. He got hard while imagining fucking his coworker and he had expected his wife to fix the problem?! It was hilarious, he deserved the punishment, worse really. When would he learn to be good? That’s all Yuri expected of him, but—

Jungkook tried to be as quiet as possible while the freezing water poured over his head and washed away the tears that just wouldn’t stop. He wanted to disappear. That would make everything so much easier. All he did was cause pain.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook stared at the coffee maker as the dark liquid slowly dripped into the cup. He wondered how he was going to make it through the day only running on three hours of sleep. It would be horrible if he passed out in front of you later.

His whole body felt heavy, just standing up was hard as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Coffee should help— at least it should give him enough energy to make it to work before he could make another cup to push him through the day.

He couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you.

You.

Jungkook scoffed as he suddenly thought back to his dream— nightmare really. Oddly enough, he was used to it at this point. This wasn’t the first time you’d taken over his dreams, you had a terrible habit of filling his mind even when he was fast asleep. You seem to love being in his head.

It was a little more recently that the dreams started, but his mind loved making up scenarios anytime he’d see you in the office.

He couldn’t even remember when it began anymore.

Had it been since you’d spilled coffee all over him? Was it then? All he knew was that you pissed him off for a reason he didn’t even know, not then, not now. 

Why were you so pretty? Why did he think you were pretty? He had a wife!

Maybe if you had met any other day he would have had no problem with you, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed you at all, but you met at the wrong time on the wrong day. At first, there was a bit of resentment— he had never hated you, but your first impression left a mark where a wound already existed. Seeing you reminded him of that terrible day and, for a little while, he made it his mission to give you a hard time.

It was petty, he knew that. You literally did nothing wrong. He knew it was only an accident, but there was something about you… at first you just made him upset. The reasons now have morphed into something more complex, something he’s desperately been trying to figure out to get you out of his head. It didn’t make any sense why every time he’d look at you he wanted to pull you so close that your atoms would defy physics and meet at the quantum level. He wanted you, badly, so fucking badly that he was honestly a little worried about later’s meeting.

Jungkook would never act on anything, but he wasn’t sure if he could be alone with you and not lose his mind. How could he not? Everything about you was like candy handed out by a guy in a white van. Enticing, but dangerous, far worse than what his naive brain could comprehend.

His own anger made things worse. He should have known just seeing what you were like on your very first day. No matter what Jungkook seemed to throw at you, you never once faltered, never complained, you absolutely crushed the assignments he’d give you. He was so amazed. You were so self-assured, confident, and meticulous. 

Everything he wasn’t.

Jungkook would be in meetings trying to stop himself from fawning anytime you’d speak. You were amazing, and everything about you just aroused him in a way that shouldn’t be possible. It frustrated him so much, he was fucking married.

He was a husband. He had a wife. He couldn’t forget that.

Jungkook tried to shake himself out of it and focus back on the task at hand— coffee, something he desperately needed before he passed out on the floor. He'd taken up the job of making coffee for him and Yuri. She hadn’t asked him to, but he was hoping this would be a nice peace offering for earlier.

He’d worked part time as a barista throughout his first two years of college. How he managed school, gigs, part time jobs, and Golden Tech, was something he couldn’t even comprehend anymore. But while he was there, he did get the opportunity to learn how to make those cute drinks most people would only be able to get at coffee shops.

However, he went for the classics today. 

Yuri loved Americanos, iced when it was hotter, but the chill November weather begged for a warmer drink. Jungkook couldn’t handle bitter drinks, he didn’t even like coffee until his schedule forced him to develop a need for it before he even attempted to go outside. Still, he preferred sweeter drinks with milk, sugar, or so much creamer you couldn’t even taste the coffee anymore. Today though, he needed something a little more intense to make sure he wouldn’t pass out at his desk. 

He didn’t have time to nap, things were so hectic as they neared the end of the quarter and tried to prepare for next year. He was the overseer of all of this for their department and was more needed than ever.

A latte is what he settled with. He made it fancy too, using the milk to draw a heart over the shots of espresso because why the fuck not? He didn’t have much to smile about these days, why not add a heart to his coffee?

Americanos didn't offer the chance for a cute design, so instead he focused on trying to get the ratios right so it’d be perfect for his wife. 

Jungkook had just finished pouring the hot water into her mug, when he heard Yuri’s clicking heels as she made her way into the room. She was wearing a short, black, sweater dress, with her shoulders exposed just like your blouse had been yesterday.

His cheeks flushed the longer he looked. It was like she was trying to kill him. That shower had not worked like he’d hoped.

He coughed to keep himself from staring. “You won’t be cold?” He asked, hoping to keep his mind busy.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“What?” Yuri scowled. He could sense her irritation immediately.

“I— I just saw it was going to be really cold today— 5 degrees actually, and it’s going to rain. I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He fretted as he saw Yuri roll her eyes before taking a seat on one of the barstools. 

“Don’t boss me around.” She grumbled. 

Jungkook froze as the guilt washed over him. He didn’t mean it to sound that way, but of course he couldn’t effectively communicate that he was just worried about her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, still clearly disgruntled as she rested her head on her hand. Jungkook suddenly remembered the coffee and hastily went to grab her mug.

“I made you coffee…” He attempted to smile as he placed it in front of her. He hurriedly grabbed his own before taking a seat, making sure he was far away enough to leave a chair in between them.

For a second, she just stared down at the mug, but then her eyes moved to his briefly. He probably looked desperate as he waited to see if she’d accept the offering. He felt like he was waiting for an eternity, but eventually Yuri just sighed before she picked it up.

Jungkook tried to subtly watch her face as she took her first sip. He made a silent prayer to whomever would listen that she would enjoy it, but her expression was unreadable as she set the cup down. Yuri didn’t say anything that gave him any type of clue into her thoughts. It wasn’t good or bad… but it was better than her spitting it out, throwing her cup on the floor, and saying she was better off without him.

Instead of worrying about it too much, he took a sip of his latte, and his brows furrowed as the taste relished in his mouth. It was pretty good for an espresso. He gave himself a mental pat on the back knowing at least he did a nice job on his own.

A few minutes passed by, the steady silence started filling the room and grew more unbearable.

“Are you going to the gym today?” Yuri asked, not bothering to look at him. He didn’t mind, he couldn’t handle meeting her eyes right now.

Jungkook sadly laughed at the mention of it. “No. Things are hectic right now and I have a lot of work today. I’m trying to get there a little early.” He said, taking another sip of his latte. Normally, the first thing Jungkook would do in the morning was head to the gym after he had a bit of caffeine in his system. He always found it a great way to wake himself up. However, the hecticness of his schedule has fucked up his gym routine so much that he’d barely had time to go lately.

Yuri didn’t respond to that.

“What about your plans today?” Jungkook tried inquiring.

Yuri sipped her coffee lightly before setting it down. “I’m going to Busan for a shoot. I’ll be back late— probably not till early morning.”

Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his heart sank knowing she wouldn’t be home later. He had wanted to talk after giving her some time to cool off and properly apologize for what happened this morning.  

“Hopefully they won’t make you work too late.” Jungkook tried to smile at her, but instead he was met with the sight of her blank gaze focused more on the kitchen rather than her own husband who was beside her. He resisted every urge in him to pull her close— a hug, an arm over her shoulder, anything to make this better. But he fought it, knowing that it would only dig himself deeper into the hole he created.

Silence, not even a chuckle.

“I’ll be home late too by the way. I have to work overtime with a coworker, so…” His words were drowned in his latte as he brought it up to his lips.

Yuri, once again, didn’t say anything. As the seconds continued to tick by, Jungkook couldn’t easily brush it off this time around. He wished she would plead for him to come home as soon as he could, and then complain about work always getting in the way of their relationship. Maybe she could even question him entirely about the coworker he had mentioned. Anything, he just wanted his wife to speak to him. Yuri was upset. He hated the silence. Why couldn’t he just be better?

“Yuri, I’m sorry for earlier.” Jungkook’s voice was shaky as he finally broke the awkward tension. 

“I don’t know what came over me. I just— Yuri, I miss you.” Jungkook turned to face her. He reached out and grabbed her hand that was sitting on the countertop.

“I miss you so much, I’m sorry if I woke you up earlier, sorry you had to see that.” He probably would never recover from the embarrassment, but then he thought about her on his lap and how he nearly blew his load right there. He missed her, why did things always need to be like this?

She still didn’t say anything. 

“I’m trying, I promise— I’ll be better…” His eyes started to sting, he knew he was moments away from crying again.

“How long have you been giving that excuse?” Yuri finally said as she let out a dark chuckle. As soon as the words hit his ears, he instantly felt bad for even saying anything. She was right— she was always right.

“Yuri—“ Before he could say anything else, she abruptly hopped off the barstool.

“Jungkook, I'm not in the mood today.” Yuri grumbled as she grabbed her mug.

She was never in the mood to talk about anything. Jungkook knew he should be focused on trying to apologize for his despicable actions this morning, but her words quickly lit a flame he couldn’t extinguish. She was never in the mood to deal with him, to deal with anything that involved them as a couple.  

“So that’s it then?” Jungkook huffed, but his face was wet. Embarrassing. 

Yuri stopped in her tracks.

“You’re not going to stay? We’re never here together in the mornings— you don’t want to sit here and talk with me, nothing?!” He was upset because he was coming face to face with the reality that his wife hated spending time with him. He knew that already, but seeing her walking away so easily from the one time they were up together in the morning, was enough to make him snap.

“Why is it such a crime that I want to spend time with you?” He cried as he stared at her when she still hadn’t said anything. He usually never got to talk this long before she had something to say. 

It was finally then that Yuri turned around.

“And why would I want to do that?” She said with the same dark laugh as before.

“I’m trying Yuri, so fucking hard. I—I—“ And he had nothing to say. Why would she want to be with him? Just look at what happened this morning. 

“Jungkook, I told you I’m not in the mood for this— I have places to be.” She sighed and turned away again.

Jungkook watched as she dumped her coffee into the sink.

“It was shit by the way!” She made sure he knew this. That was the last thing she said before heading back to their bedroom.

Jungkook tried his best to quickly wipe away the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling. Her words weren’t surprising, and he deserved them more than ever. He really was out of line. He was pathetic, so, so, so pathetic— why would she ever want to be with him?

However, for some reason, the thing that kept replaying in his mind was how easily she chucked the coffee he had worked so hard on trying to make perfect. The one thing he thought he could do right for her, and of course he failed. He was just one big fucking failure.

Jungkook attempted to take another sip of his own drink, but the taste was completely different than what he had remembered. The bitterness made him nearly gag and it took everything in him not to scream. Instead, the tears ran harder down his face as he quickly got up to throw his latte away too.

He couldn’t do anything right.

•────•──────────•────•

Things have been hectic these days. You were managing and making sure all of the numbers were being met for the holiday promotions, and also working hard to prepare for the next quarter with the teams.

This was the first time you’ve been managing by yourself this long. Director Son would take a day off occasionally when he had to leave the office for meetings at other companies— twice since you had been promoted, but handling an entire week on your own was a challenge you honestly weren’t sure you were qualified for. But there was no way you’d let anyone else know that. Instead, you put on a brave face and did your absolute best.

Today was hectic, and workwise, not really that interesting. Some meetings, assignments you needed to do, tasks you had to handle, it all mainly consisted of what you would typically do every day. However, there was an uneasiness in the air from the minute you woke up and thought about the fact that you were going to be working overtime with Jungkook. It was strange, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous.

Maybe it was simply the fact that you were going to be alone with your boss for the first time— you’ve never really hung out with the guy before, and any brief conversation you’ve shared has always been so awkward. You wondered if he genuinely might not like you or something, that it might go beyond pettiness over an incident that happened over two years ago at this point. You’d never been rude to him (at least not to his face), so you had no idea where that would have come from. You figured it had to be the coffee incident still biting you in the ass. Director Son had told you prior to his absence that your workload was still abnormally high in comparison to what had been expected of the last associate director. 

Things hadn’t changed besides your feelings being a bit more complicated. Did you like Jeon Jungkook? No, he was still a major dickhead for singling you out over an accident. But were you worried about him? All the time lately.

As much as you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’d get assigned more work, you kept your cool because maybe— maybe things weren’t as they seemed.

Even though it was always awkward, Jungkook was never mean to you whenever you talked to each other. He would smile sometimes, and you’d joke around with each other occasionally. He was pretty shy— you noticed that almost immediately, he blushed a lot which always made you feel a little funny. 

It was when you wouldn’t see each other when he’d get back to being unreasonably petty. Maybe the sad boy act was a trap to make you accept his cruelness out of pity. Maybe, or maybe not. The chance was enough for you, so you settled with— you still didn’t like him, but with more caution. You needed more evidence, and today was a great day to collect findings and investigate further— with you both spending hours alone with each other, it would hopefully give you enough time to see his true colors. 

Just leading up to your meeting, things were already starting to get a little weird to say the least. You both worked more closely than usual, and anytime you’d talk with another executive, or you worked on the mountain that was your workload, you always felt stared at.

You liked to think you had a secret pair of eyes in the back of your head because you could always tell when someone was looking at you. Your senses were going off like crazy today, and every time you’d turn to check, you’d see him staring at you.

It could’ve been because you both had plans later. You never once found yourself creeped out by his staring. He reminded you of Bambi at the way his eyes sparkled in the light, and just how bewildered he looked by your mere existence.

You hated to admit it, but it was almost cute?

You had no issue meeting his gaze— at first, because you were a little confused by what was happening, but then you noticed the way his face would light up before he quickly turned away, visibly flustered, so you just kept doing it for fun.

Then, there was the incident on the roof…

You needed to find him to get him to sign some papers. You had gone to his office first— he wasn’t there, so you asked Secretary Yu— she didn’t know where he was, so you were left wandering the floor, asking around, trying to see if anyone had seen him. Luckily, Hoseok came to the rescue as you wandered through marketing trying to find him— he told you he had seen him in the elevator when he went to deliver something upstairs. 

“He said he was on his lunch break. I think he was heading to the roof, maybe?” Hoseok shrugged.

The roof?

You tried to ignore the way you felt your stomach drop. There could be a perfectly reasonable excuse for why he would be up there. The actual rooftop of the building was reachable only by maintenance, but there was a terrace a few stories down that everyone at the office referred to as ‘the roof.’ It didn’t have much up there— a few tables and chairs where people could lounge around, and it also had these beautiful trees and greenery that somehow managed to grow that high up on a building.

It was a popular spot during the warmer months, and maybe if today were a nice day, you wouldn’t be as worried, but it was freezing outside. Just walking from your bus stop, which was just down the street, to the building’s entrance, you swore your nose would fall off before you even reached the door.

What business would he have on the roof in November?

That’s why you said a hurried goodbye to Hoseok and nearly ran to the elevator. Maybe this was all in your head, and maybe you had a bad habit of thinking the worst— but your worry had saved someone before. Propelled by your belief that there was even the slightest chance of something bad happening, you never once slowed down as you made your way to the elevators. You hurriedly pressed the floor button, believing it would somehow make it go faster, and you nearly tripped over your heels trying to rush down the short hallway to the door.

As soon as you opened it, the chill air almost blew you away. Your stockings and your white button-up didn’t do much to protect you from the cold, but you persevered anyway. 

You didn’t immediately see him out there, so you hastily made your way further around the terrace. Your panic only grew worse with each step you took until you rounded the corner and a silhouette began appearing. It was Jungkook. You took a second to let out a sigh of relief, because at least things weren’t as bad as you thought or certainly could have been, but as you stood there, you noticed his hand come up to wipe his eyes.

He wasn’t crying… was he?

“Director Jeon!” You didn’t hesitate to make your presence known, feeling weird just watching him like this.

At your voice, he turned around, and for a split second you saw it, you saw his sad eyes and the way his face glistened with tears. However, it wasn’t long, and he hurriedly used his sleeve to wipe his face.

“What are you doing out here?! It’s freezing!” You exclaimed as you started making your way towards him. You tried to hold up the papers you were carrying to block the wind, but they merely fluttered before folding over in your hand.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He tried to say over the sound of the wind rushing past. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed to see you or not.

“I had papers I needed—” Before you could finish, he was approaching you and grabbing your wrist to lead you both back to the door.

You looked at him, then his hand on your wrist, then back at him, and then your wrist again. The more you looked, the more you felt your face grow hotter. Part of you wanted to scream and tell him to let go, but you never did, honestly too stunned to do anything but let him lead you away. He yanked the door open, pulling you back into the short hallway.

As soon as the door closed behind you, he finally let go, and you had to take a second to remind yourself to breathe, because what the fuck was that?

“Sorry, it’s freezing out there— I didn’t want you catching a cold.” He laughed shyly, and it was then that you realized how close he was standing. 

The hallway was short and not very wide. It was maybe big enough for two people to stand side by side with a little room left so they wouldn’t be scraping against the wall. But you and Jungkook were facing each other, so there was no need to be this close. You wondered if there was even a foot in between you.

You took a second to look at the way Jungkook was leaning against the door. A slight smile was on his face, but standing this close, you could see the way his eyes were a little red.

“I should be saying that to you. What were you doing out there?” You asked, hoping there was some reasonable answer to this. His smile slowly faded, and it’s like in an instant you saw the dark cloud that had managed to form above his head materialize right in front of your eyes. It rained and stormed down on him with a concerning ferocity, yet he never seemed to acknowledge the way the mood had shifted. 

“I— just needed some fresh air.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, almost like his mind was elsewhere.

“Fresh air without a coat?” You questioned after noticing he was only wearing his suit jacket.

“You got me there…” He chuckled sadly. You looked at him worriedly. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask if he was ok, but once again you found yourself lost for words.

“Um, you said you needed me for something?” Jungkook said, breaking the growing silence.

You almost completely forgot why you came up here. You looked down at the papers in your hand and waved them around. “Right, I just needed you to sign the proposal we talked about in the meeting earlier.”

“Ah right, I see— do you have a—“ he didn’t even need to finish before you were whipping out the pen you kept in the pocket of your shirt.

He smiled at your eagerness before taking your pen and the papers. You watched as he scanned over them, making sure everything was just as discussed, before putting the papers against the door and signing them.

For some reason as you watched him sign his name, it almost made you think about a celebrity signing autographs in the fancy way he wrote the characters. But that only led your eyes to his face, and then you were staring at him, observing him.

You noticed he was still a little pink, you weren’t sure if it was from crying or the cold outside. At some point he flicked his hair out of his face so you could finally see his eyes a little better and you were quick to notice the tinge of red, and his face seemed a little wet around his eyes. It instantly confirmed he had been crying earlier, worrying you further. 

His hair had gotten so long now, his bangs brushing softly against his cheeks, and the rest of his dark locks sat prettily just over his shoulders. It was probably long enough that he could very easily tie it up if he wanted. As he concentrated on the documents, you could even see that little mole make an appearance once again as he bit his lip.

It seems you weren’t the only one with eyes in the back of your head, because he turned to meet your gaze.

“I’m almost done.” He hurriedly reassured, and it was only then that you realized your staring might be rushing him.

You turned away so you were looking at the golden doors of the elevator, your face on fire again. It felt like a century as the silence painfully lingered in the air, but eventually he handed back the papers.

“I’m sorry you had to come looking for me. I wouldn’t have taken a break if I knew.” He genuinely seemed sorry. How could this be the same man who's been petty towards you since day one? How?! The Jungkook you had constructed in your mind over the years would never apologize, let alone for something he didn’t need to. 

“It’s not a problem. Things have been so hectic, it’s nice to have a break. It was only for a signature anyway.” He laughed at this, but then the silence started filling the air again.

You realized this was probably the time you should be saying your goodbyes.

“Do you want to come down with me?” You asked.

For a second, he pointed toward the door, like he really wanted to head back outside to that freezing tornado of no. But it’s like he realized that it didn’t make any sense, so he was just standing there, confused about what to say.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going back out there?” You looked at him worriedly.

If his fumbling earlier didn’t confirm anything, his silence now sure did. 

You had no idea what came over you, and honestly it probably wasn’t the most professional thing to do, but you flipped your hand over, brushed his bangs back, and rested your hand on his forehead.

You noticed his immediate shock with the way his eyes widened, but you pushed on. You then moved your hand to his cheeks and as you feared, he was still absolutely freezing.

“Sir, you’re freezing…” You let him know, hoping this would mean something.

You followed his gaze as it went from your hand, up your arm, and finally met your eyes once again. You nearly shivered as you stared into his eyes, his dark orbs felt weighted. Was it sadness, exhaustion, something else entirely?

You tried to shake yourself out of it and dropped your hand. “Going back out is just asking to get sick, and we really need you here.” You smiled up at him.

He didn’t say anything, and that confused look in his eyes still remained.

The awkward silence returned.

“Um, anyway, you should come down with me. I heard you were on your lunch break, yet I see no lunch.” You pointed out.

It seemed that was what it took to finally get him to snap out of it, as he looked down at his empty hands.

“Right…”

“Don’t tell me you forgot…?” And you just knew he did. 

“It’s a bad habit.” He chuckled shyly, but that just made you concerned all over again. What did he mean it was a habit? 

“Maybe we could eat together? I just have to drop these papers off and then we could head to the cafeteria.” You said so abruptly, it shocked yourself just as much as it seemed to shock him. 

What were you saying?! 

…

The silence that lingered had you ready to apologize for even putting out the idea.

“I’m a bit busy and my break is almost over…” You thought this was his way of rejecting your offer. “But… we can get food together.”

Jungkook looked back up at you with a smile on his face. For a second you saw it, that way his eyes crinkled and you found it hard not to fawn at the sight. You felt good that you were able to make him smile like that— for some reason you had the idea that it doesn’t happen too often.

With that, you were heading down the elevator and walking through the halls to your office. On the way, you sensed the questioning eyes of everyone as soon as they saw Jungkook trailing behind you.

Everyone around the office still thought that you hated him.

You eventually got to your office and you were a little shocked to find Solmi and Taehyung standing outside the door. They were just talking, probably waiting for you to go to the cafeteria, but then they finally saw you making your way over.

You noticed their smiles drop as soon as they saw Jungkook behind you.

“Hey guys…” You gave them a warning glare. “I was going to head down with Jungkook— meet me down there later~” You smiled a bit too hard as you set the papers down and turned back to Jungkook, who looked more than a little awkward.

You realized he probably didn’t come out here too often.

You didn’t give your friends any time to ask questions before you were whisking the both of you back to the elevator to finally head downstairs.

You honestly didn’t consider until later how… strange this might look to people. Not only because they thought you still hated him, but you were hanging around a married man like this. You sometimes forgot he was married, but the more looks you received, the more apparent it became how your colleagues might interpret your actions. But you had good intentions. All you wanted to do was make sure he actually ate something, fearing​​ that if you left him upstairs, he’d go back outside again and forget to eat lunch entirely. 

No one seemed to be worried, and you doubted anyone else would remind him to eat lunch. It’s not like you were this amazing person, but despite your mixed feelings toward Jeon Jungkook, you still didn’t want to just leave him like this. You wanted to help him even if it was just a little bit. He reminded you of Mi-Sun so much…

Besides that, it also gave you an opportunity to work on the awkwardness between you two before your long night together. Maybe he’d even give you bonus points for taking the initiative and being the first to try and extend the olive branch. 

However, neither of you talked too much as you waited in line, which wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. You’d sometimes try to ask him questions, but it didn’t lead anywhere besides a simple back and forth. The glaring awkwardness and the growing murmur of the crowd in the cafeteria filled the space between the two of you. Rome wasn’t built in a day; you knew creating any type of amicable relationship with Jungkook was going to take some time, especially considering you both didn’t start on the best foot, so you didn’t dwell on it too much. 

In between your short conversations, many people offered to let Jungkook go in front of them as soon as they noticed the CEO’s son was there, but he declined every time. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t surprised. That side of you who still thought the worst of him had you thinking he would use his position to nudge his way into any door he possibly could, even something as insignificant as skipping through the lunch line. But no, he didn’t even think about it any time someone would come up to him. Maybe you were wrong once again. 

Eventually, you were able to make it through the line.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? Maybe you could spare a few minutes to eat? My friends will be down soon if you want to sit with us, or maybe Director Park—“ 

“No, it’s alright. I’ve been gone long enough. Thank you, though.” Jungkook smiled.

You looked at him hesitantly. “Alright, just make sure you actually eat.”

“Don’t worry. I’m the king of multitasking~” He laughed, but you still were in fact still worried. For some reason you didn’t believe him, but you didn’t want to fight him on this.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later, okay?” He smiled at you before turning around and heading back to the elevators.

That was the last time you saw each other before your meeting. The rest of the day, you found yourself feeling even more nervous.  

•────•──────────•────•

As your colleagues began packing up all their belongings and saying their goodbyes, you tried not to think about the fact that you had to meet with Jungkook soon, because you either found your nerves returning or you wanted to cry because you couldn’t go home. 

When the time finally arrived, you passed Secretary Yu’s empty desk and stood outside the door. You took a second to just breathe and try to calm your beating heart. There was no reason to be this nervous, you can handle Jeon Jungkook just like you do everything. Get in, be done, and then get out. Home was your finish line. 

Before they left, Taehyung and Solmi performed a ritual to wish you luck for tonight by surrounding your chair with pens, highlighters, bottles of white-out, and basically all the office supplies they could find. 

“By the power of this printer paper, Y/n is going to make it home alive.” Solmi said dramatically, holding a pack of printer paper— you had just asked her to fill the printer tray before they started doing this. Taehyung was standing behind her playing spooky music. They both told you that the ambiance was the last ingredient to reassure you that the ritual would work. 

You called them dramatic, but they said it was necessary to ensure you made it out of the “demon’s lair” unscathed. It was entirely too much, maybe even a little rude, but you let them have their fun.

There was absolutely no reason to be scared, but you couldn’t help the way your heart sped up in your chest as you knocked you pushed open the door.

Once again, you weren’t greeted with a demon’s lair, but well— no, maybe you couldn’t say that exactly. Taehyung and Solmi, during their ritual, had put the thought into your head that his bright office was merely a façade maintained during work hours, that he and the room revealed their true colors the minute most people were out of the building. You thought it was silly, but as you grasped your laptop tightly and saw that his office was dark apart from the faint glow of a couple of candles placed around the tables, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had entered the right room. This certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Y/n—” You heard, but suddenly there was a loud thud making you nearly jump out of your skin as you snapped your head towards the commotion. “Shit!” You realized Jungkook groaned, as he clutched onto his desk. “I knew that was there…” He tried to laugh, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. 

You shook yourself out of your shock, before you hurriedly made your way over to him, trying your best to dodge past the faint outline of furniture on the way.

“Are you ok?” You asked looking down to see if you could notice any damage, but the room was just so dark. You helped him sit back down in his chair.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize my desk was there…” He sighed, his brows furrowed as he leaned back.

“How could you? Why do you have all the lights off?” You looked around now that you were fully inside the room, and your eyes had adjusted a little more. The candles created a nice mood lighting, and the sparkling city lights outside provided that last little touch of magic. It was pretty, very different from what you’d see during the day. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was preparing for a date considering how romantic this almost seemed.

“I always turn them off when I stay here late— the lights are way too bright for this time of night, in my opinion. I don’t mind it being completely dark, but I lit some candles so you could see.” You were tempted to ask where he got so many since you had never seen them around before, but you kept quiet and just accepted the gesture. It was really sweet.

Jungkook suddenly swiveled around in his chair to reveal a minifridge you didn’t realize he had in here. He opened it, and you peeped a variety of drinks, mainly beer it seemed, but he pulled out a wine bottle before shutting it.

“Only if you want to.” He looked down at the bottle and then back at you. 

You were shocked. 

It was just then that you realized you never had a picture of what Jungkook was like outside of work. You couldn’t even imagine him stepping outside of this office building, but if you ever subconsciously had any impression, you never expected that he would be so… loose? You honestly thought it would be quite boring staying late with him, where you would be stuck fighting all forces of nature to keep your eyes open. You thought he would be the stone-cold, boring, business type, where you were here for work only. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Jungkook instructed you to grab Secretary Yu’s chair and roll it in so you could sit next to him, since all of the seats in his office were too heavy to move. As you left, he popped open the cork and took out wine glasses he also brought out of thin air.  

Once you got back, he even told you that the wine was yours to keep (a gift for staying late with him). You looked at the bottle, but you had no idea what it was. You squinted, trying to read the label, and eventually figured out it was entirely written in French. That’s when Jungkook explained that he had first tried this wine when his father had given him a bottle after a business trip to France.

“I had been having a terrible day, and then I remembered I had this white wine my dad gave me. I poured just a little to taste— next thing I knew, the whole bottle was gone.” He chuckled at the memory as he filled both of your glasses about halfway.

“I bought a few more bottles when I went this summer. I hope you like it~” He smiled at you. 

You figured this bottle was expensive, and you didn’t need to recognize the brand to understand that. Just as Jungkook described, one sip was all it took for you to understand precisely what he meant. It was probably the best wine you’d ever had; the sweetness danced nicely across your tongue before you couldn’t resist and had to swallow. You weren’t even that big of a wine drinker, but with this one, you could see yourself turning into one of those people who have a glass after coming home from work every day.

You seriously had to resist downing your drink because you were trying to hurriedly settle your nerves, but it was also that delicious. It was then that you both agreed not to go overboard. You were here to work after all, and you both still had to get home one way or another. One glass, two at most.

As the tension eased slightly, you opened your laptop, Jungkook turned back to his computer, and finally you both got to work.

Most of the time, it went as planned. You were able to fly through work relatively smoothly. You hated to admit that you two worked pretty well together. Your flow was like a perfect machine, two functions working independently, but eventually coming together to create the final product. Sometimes, you’d both be sitting in silence as the candles flickered around you, typing away at the keys, but then you’d always reconvene and spend most of the time talking about ideas, plans for next year’s Q1, and making the last bit of confirmations needed for the end of Q4.

As you both approached the end of the workload, you started to slow down, the last little bit is the hardest to finish as they say.

The whole evening was peaceful. It wasn’t anything at all like the second shift you’d pictured. Jungkook was… pretty chill. You sipped wine, and lightly chatted about work. How could this be the same guy you hated since your first day here? How the hell was he the guy who had rumors about people going into his office only to come out crying? 

It didn’t make any sense, and suddenly you found yourself upset at whoever spread that nasty rumor. Jungkook, with his sparkling eyes, looked like he couldn’t even hurt a fly, how did that even become a thing?

Then again, it’s not like you were any better… you were practically president of the Jungkook hate club before your promotion. You found yourself tempted to ask him why things had been so weird between you, if it really was all about the coffee you spilled on him, or if there was something else you did that you were entirely unaware of.

Your thoughts were interrupted all of a sudden when you heard ruffling. You looked over to find Jungkook taking off his suit jacket.

Oh?

•────•──────────•────•

He hadn’t thought much about it.

It was a little stuffy in his office, so he finally had to take his jacket off, roll up the sleeves of his white button-up, and undo just one more button. He didn’t even think you’d notice, but then he felt your gaze bearing down on him with enough weight to make him turn to face you.

Jungkook met your eyes briefly, and he had to take a second to recollect himself after seeing the way you were staring at him. Your eyes were dark and hooded, and you had the pen you had been twirling around your fingers teased between your lips. His mind was in all the wrong places. He knew that was his fault— but the longer he looked at you, the more his body burned with a horrible need. You looked so pretty; the city’s bright lights framed you nicely, and the faint candle glow made you look ethereal. 

“I didn’t know you had tattoos?” You used the pen you were holding to point at his arm. It finally dawned on him that that’s what you were looking at. He suddenly felt his cheeks grow warm, both embarrassed that he let his mind go there, and that you noticed something he’d been wanting to hide.

“Oh yeah… right, I sometimes forget they’re there.” Jungkook chuckled, trying to calm himself down. 

“When did you get them?” You asked, leaning a little closer to see them a bit better.

“Four— five years ago? I think I got them all during my last year of college.”

“Really?” He couldn’t help but notice the shock in your voice. “How did I never notice?”

“It’s not like I have too many. I originally planned to do a whole sleeve, but then I got busy, married, and overall things just changed. Unless I wear short sleeves, you can’t really see them.” Jungkook explained, his smile fading the longer he spoke.

“Does your wife not like tattoos?” You pondered, and he tried to ignore the weird feeling he got from hearing you mention her. 

“They’re not her favorite.” Jungkook was putting that a little nicely.

It wasn’t even like it was a big secret that he had tattoos before they got married. On their second date, Jungkook had to rush to meet Yuri after an appointment; his arm was still wrapped up and everything. This turned out to be the last tattoo he’d end up getting— the floral pattern he had on his elbow. 

Jungkook got so busy afterward dealing with the end of the semester and his job at Golden Tech, that he never could find the time for any more appointments before he got married. He planned to finish what he started when he got back from their honeymoon, he even had an appointment booked. But while they were lounging at the pool at their resort, basking under the sun in the Maldives, this one guy who had both arms done walked by. Jungkook had eagerly mentioned how cool they looked, but Yuri grimaced and said they weren’t really her thing.

At the time, she’d tried to recover and say she didn’t mind the couple that he'd managed to get, but Jungkook got the message; that was all she could tolerate.

Truthfully, she didn’t like them at all, and Yuri made sure he knew. In the heat of an argument, she’d called his tattoos ridiculous, silly, and even childish. Jungkook didn’t even fight back because he couldn’t deny that they didn’t look right. He’d planned to fill the space more when he got more time. The ones he had managed to brave before getting married individually he still thought were pretty cool, but all together, they were weirdly placed, spaced out, and generally just looked awkward since he never got to finish what he had planned.

He couldn’t say he liked them as much anymore. 

Jungkook had thought about getting them removed a couple of times; he’d even made an appointment once, but ultimately never followed through with it. He didn’t know if it was because of the pain he dreaded or the fact that when he tried to picture his arm bare again, he almost had a full-on breakdown. So he decided to keep them. They were his ridiculous, silly, and maybe even childish history.

Instead, he tried to be content with the fact his sleeve wouldn’t get finished, and just reminisced whenever he looked down at his right arm about the time when the thought of turning his body into a canvas was more than alluring.

He wanted to make Yuri happy.

“I think they’re pretty.” You suddenly mentioned, and one compliment was enough to make him feel funny all over. “Maybe you might change your mind one day about finishing it.” You continued.

Jungkook just stared at you as you spoke, his face felt like it was on fire. “I—I don’t know—“

“I’m sure your wife would grow to love them!” You exclaimed, turning your attention to the photo he kept on his desk. You leaned a little closer looking at his big smile as she kissed his cheek. They seemed so happy.

Jungkook noticed your gaze on the picture, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache at the sight. Something about it felt so wrong, almost like the two biggest problems in his life were coming face to face.

“How did you two meet?” You suddenly asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. At first, he was a little confused about who you were talking about, but in one of your hands was the picture you were looking at.

“Um— our parents introduced us to each other.” 

You cooed and turned to look at the picture, then back at Jungkook, and then back at the picture again. 

“You found love so early. We’re nearly the same age, right? It’s crazy to imagine being married right now.” You chuckled at the thought.

Jungkook stared at the candle in front of him as he soaked up your words. You were right; you would never see someone in this day and age married at twenty-six, at least not here. All of his friends from college were posting about going to the latest clubs. Not a single proposal announcement had crossed his timeline, yet he was about to celebrate his fourth anniversary in only a few months.

It really was crazy.

When Jungkook didn’t say anything, you took it upon yourself to fill in the silence. “Were you just so in love that you couldn’t wait?” You questioned dreamily as you batted your eyelashes. You watched as Jungkook continued to stare at the candle that sat between you, seemingly lost in thought.

“Jungkook?” You questioned.

“I heard you… it’s just… I mean, yes, we were, it’s just—”

“...trouble in paradise?” You asked hesitantly, worrying you were starting to pry too much.

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a while, his heart pounding at how easily you seemed to notice. “You could say that.” He chuckled, his voice was soft, you barely heard him.

“Don’t worry. Every couple goes through difficulties, I’m sure you both will make it through this.” You tried to bring the mood back up, sensing you must have hit a touchy subject.

Jungkook resisted the urge to say it was all his fault, that he was the bomb in their relationship— the one who was wreaking havoc and causing the mass destruction. It was all him. 

“You guys look so happy here. When did you take this?” You pointed back to the picture on his desk. 

“That was our honeymoon.” His voice was slightly pained, as he thought back to a time when everything was still so promising; when he still seemed promising. You didn’t seem to notice, though.

“Where did you guys go? The background looks so pretty.” You pointed out the sparkling water that sat behind them. It was the clearest blue you’d ever seen.

“The Maldives.” He answered, and your eyes widened. You instantly felt a little jealous.

“If you ever have a business trip that takes you back to some beautiful island, you should take me with you. I could even try to squeeze into your suitcase if you’ll let me.” This finally got Jungkook to laugh.

“I’m serious— I’m sure I could fit inside!” You were already working out your plan in your head on how you’d somehow make the journey. He laughed even harder, like it was the funniest thing in the world. You quickly settled on the fact you liked it when Jungkook laughed, it was cute, this was the first time you heard it go beyond just a simple chuckle. It didn’t match him at all, but at the same time, it did. It was a distinct sound that made you unable to stop yourself from joining in, because you would have never guessed that was his laugh, but you found it oddly… endearing? It felt very Jungkook, even though you weren’t sure what that really meant yet. 

You decided to keep the joke going because you wanted to hear him laugh more. You told him you were sure you could somehow do it; if anyone could figure out how to travel by suitcase from Korea all the way to The Maldives, it would be you.

“What! I’ve never even left the country before, and I want to travel so badly. You seriously have to bring me on your next business trip!” You were both joking and incredibly serious at the same time. You had always wanted to travel.

Jungkook sensed this and calmed down a little. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes widened. “Is this a promise I’m hearing, Director Jeon?” Your excitement made Jungkook feel strange— fluttery almost. 

“Promise.” He smiled at you. You beamed and held out your pinkie. Jungkook looked down and then back up at your eyes, a little confused.

You got the message and grabbed his wrist so you could lock pinkies. You took it a step further, and your hand so your thumbs touched. “Look, it’s official now~” 

Jungkook stared down at your interwoven hands, his heart nearly beating out of his chest at all the thoughts racing through his head. The clearest one being the feeling of your hand in his— so small, warm, and the urge to pull you into his arms was dangerous. He remembered his dream from this morning, that stupid fucking dream he had of fucking you on that meeting table. What would your hands feel like elsewhere? He wanted to touch you too. He was aware of how alone you both were in the building; no one was in the office, no one would barge in and see if you— 

But then he was brought back to reality, and suddenly it was painfully hot in this room. Jungkook quickly let go of your hand as his face continued to warm.

“You ok?” Your red lips formed the words, but he had a hard time listening.

That cold shower didn’t help at all. If he took another one once he got back home, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. At this point, Jungkook doubted that if he sat in a bath of ice water for an hour it would be enough to calm the way his body burned and pleaded for help.

If he tried once again and begged Yuri, would she say yes? The idea was laughable, considering the stunt he pulled this morning. He was pathetic; why would she help him?

“Jungkook?” You tried calling out to him once again after seeing him get lost in thought. 

That was finally enough to get him to snap out of it. 

“I–I’m so sorry. I’m fine, you’re fine.” He tried his best to laugh it off. Jungkook couldn’t even look at you as he spoke.

“Was it the promise? I’m sorry if that was inappropriate. I know you’re married. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable…” You trailed off worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I promise! I just got a lot on my mind.” You, he had a whole lot of you in his head.

You still looked at him with concern, but you hoped you didn’t make things weird… or rather, weirder than they already were. You tried to get back to work once again, but it was hard to make any progress after what happened. 

You battled the thoughts clouding your mind.

What was even happening? Maybe the wine was stronger than you thought, or you had suddenly become a lightweight, the possibility making more sense than understanding just how much you weren’t thinking straight anymore. That had to be it, right? 

Your face grew more flushed as you stared at your computer trying to comprehend what just occurred. Was that weird? It was just supposed to be a cute promise. You didn’t think that was crossing a line, but the way he looked at you…

Your whole body shivered at the thought and where your mind led you. You had to get it together. 

•────•──────────•────•

This was bad.

His wandering mind had led him down a dangerous path that he was desperately trying to save himself from. The only thing Jungkook could think about while he tried to focus on the spreadsheets in front of him was you who was sitting next to him: your hand in his, your red lips you’d occasionally pull between your teeth as you concentrated on your work, and your skirt that he swore got shorter each time he glanced over at you. But then his mind drifted to his wife, Yuri. 

He missed her. Was there any chance she’d be back at their place, ready willing to help him fix this? Clothes nowhere in sight, her legs spread, just waiting for him to come home and—

If he was just better… 

It only made him think back to their honeymoon, when she still had hope in him. 

Things had been a bit awkward at first, but as they partook in more activities around the island, they started loosening up. The pleasant moments eventually led them to the hot tub right outside their room. 

They had a beautiful view of the Indian Ocean, the sun was just starting to go under the horizon, and the sky was lit up beautifully with a symphony of vibrant colors that had painted the water below. It was breathtaking. 

It was Yuri’s idea for them to get in the hot tub that overlooked the sight to finally get the chance to just sit and talk. They did, that evening had been so magical as they spoke with each other about their lives and even spilled a lot of personal thoughts and fears, all while they sipped a bottle of amazing champagne. The awkwardness finally seemed to dissipate, and it was just the two of them getting to know each other after the chaos of the wedding. The moment had made his heart feel so warm, knowing that they were in a place where they could open up to each other. 

Jungkook didn’t know how it happened. Maybe Yuri had started to feel the same sparks flying in the air that he did. He was just so happy and in the moment, he didn’t remember how things got to that point, but suddenly she was crawling into his lap and kissing him. 

Things escalated very quickly after that. One moment Jungkook was kissing her sweetly, just happy to be having an intimate moment with his wife, but things changed before he could even process what was going on. The pace all of a sudden started picking up, her hands were running across his burning skin, her lips hastily moving against his. Then he was throwing her red bikini top off, and suddenly they were rushing out the hot tub back inside to the bed. It was there where they fucked with their bathing suits still clinging to their bodies— He thought it was romantic, the type of sex he had only dreamed of, so passionate and lost in the moment that no one could even find time to take off their clothes. 

If he got an opportunity like that again with Yuri...       

…

He wanted to ruin her.

He tried his best not to get emotional again. Not with you here. He didn’t want you to know how pathetic he was, how disgusting his thoughts were— because, with you he wanted to do worse. With you, he entertained the deepest, darkest desires he’d tried his best to keep buried for the sake of his relationship. But when it came to you—

Jungkook looked over in your direction, your red lips, short skirt, and long legs… he didn’t want to just ruin you, he wanted to absolutely destroy you. At least that’s what he felt would happen— this horrible desire to have you, when he had someone to go home to, was a breeding ground for his imagination to run wild. You were a fantasy, a fantasy that should be burned in the hottest flames imaginable.

It was just so fucking wrong, and the more he looked at you, the more his blood boiled. Why did you have to work here? Why were you so pretty? Why did he have to want you so badly? Why did he have to be married? Why did his brother have to leave? Why couldn’t he be a better husband so Yuri would want him and this whole situation could have been avoided?

In another world, he could have dreaded needing to stay with you after work. His wife could have been sitting back at home waiting for him, missing him. If he was just better, Yuri would have texted him throughout the day. It would have been about random stuff she wanted to tell him, and when she would have made it home, she would have sent him something cheesy like the apartment feels so empty without you here ㅠㅠ. He would have apologized, but fawned every time she’d text him because she was so cute. He’d respond each time and reassure her that he would be home as soon as he could.

But unfortunately, the reality was everything but that. He was the fucking problem. He could have had it all if he was better… he was always the fucking problem.

Instead, he was here with you, trying his best to ignore the way his pants were starting to feel tighter because he couldn’t get it together. He was thinking about those three buttons undone on that white button-up you have tucked into that short fucking skirt— so close to seeing more, how easy it would be to undo one more if you’d let him. That dream too— right there on the meeting table. Sitting here at his desk, it was so easy to imagine you sprawled right on top, waiting for him to touch you. You would look so pretty, and he would do anything you asked. He just wanted to make you feel good, to make someone feel good—

“Shit—“ It left his lips before he could stop it as he lifted his hips subtly, desperately wishing to meet something. That’s when you finally turned back to him, noticing how flushed he was.

“Sir, are you sure you’re ok?” You asked, concerned at the way he jumped at your voice. The candlelight was enough to show the pink dusting his cheeks.

To be honest, he’d nearly forgotten you were actually in the room with him. 

“Uhh— I’m just a little warm is all…” He tried to play it off.

You awed and started to fan him lightly with your hands, hoping that would help.

It didn’t, but he smiled at the gesture nonetheless.

Looking around the room, you noticed the fan that was sitting in the corner. You quickly stood up and went to grab it, hoping that would help him cool down. 

As soon as you got up, Jungkook let out a sigh of relief and rolled over to the minifridge that sat beside him. Past all the alcohol were a few water bottles he mainly kept as a means of sobering up, or to put a dent in the iron wall of a hangover he’d often wake up with. 

He grabbed one, and hurriedly opened it up and chugged it down, hoping it would help him relax.

You were supposed to chase a drink down with water, the tip saving him so many times when he was in college, but lately, he never remembered. Most times, all he cared about was silencing the thoughts that had grown so loud at this point it was almost deafening; it would always make his head hurt, and his heart ache. These days he could care less about the consequences whenever he’d be reaching into his fridge and pulling out a drink. No matter how bad the aftermath was, it was never more painful than how he felt sober. But today, Jungkook wasn’t drunk, not even tipsy. You were enough to occupy his mind, you and the image of you naked on his desk. While it did pose a great problem, it was enough to ignore the biggest one temporarily. 

You were back soon after and set the fan in between you both. You were a little shocked to see the candles illuminate the sheen across his skin— you didn’t think it was that hot in here.

“Sir, are you—“

Jungkook set down his water and shook his head. “You don’t need to call me that— please don’t call me that, especially when we’re alone.”

You stood there, a little confused. 

“We’re the same age right— I don’t know, every time you call me sir it feels like I aged 50 years all of a sudden. Please just call me Jungkook.” He laughed. It was true, it was always weird anytime you’d call him sir, but he needed any distraction he could get so he could finish his work.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, a little surprised he didn’t want to keep the honorifics in place. 

Jungkook nodded. 

You smiled. This was progress.

“Alright… Jungkook, how’s that?” You asked as you plugged in the fan. It instantly came to life and the blades quickly picked up enough speed to have a cool breeze blowing in between you both.

Jungkook tried to ignore the way he flushed at the fact that he instantly knew how much he liked hearing his name come out of your mouth. 

“Better, thank you so much.” He was lying straight through his teeth. It really didn’t do much. Jungkook doubted even a staycation to Alaska could solve his issues, but his heart still warmed at the gesture. You were always so sweet.

•────•──────────•────•

You sat back down on your chair and took another sip from your wine glass. It was almost empty at this point. You had kept drinking as your mind continued to travel back to Jungkook, his newfound tattoos, that extra button he undid— two now it seems, that bottle of wine you were sharing, but most of all, you were questioning where you stood. 

You had been debating whether to ask him if he likes you or not. This was probably the worst time to ask, but the dim candlelight and just how… nice, things for the most part have been tonight made you want to get to the bottom of it.

But Jungkook was quicker at filling the silence.

“Y/n, if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you start working at Golden Tech?” His voice was so gentle, sitting right above the sounds of the crackling candles.

The question had you stunned for a second, not at all expecting it, nor did you immediately have an answer.

“I don’t know, why does anyone start working anywhere?” You laughed, but realized who you were speaking to. Maybe not the best joke. You quickly cleared your throat. “But Golden Tech is a really good company— I heard a lot about it when I was still in college about how well they treat their employees. It aligned well with many of my ambitions, so once I finished grad school I thought I’d apply and see what would happen.” 

It was still crazy that you were sitting with the CEO’s son. A few years ago you thought maybe you were being a little too ambitious with trying to aim for Golden Tech, yet not even two years later, you got the job, and you were already the Associate Director of the Seoul division’s financial team. Who knows where you might be in another two years?

“Do you regret your decision? Honestly, I think you could have gotten a notable position at Samsung if you had applied.” Jungkook wondered. 

You laughed at his comment. “Me? At Samsung? Never in a million years would that happen. I thought I was being too ambitious by applying here!” You giggled, the entire idea oddly amusing.

“I don’t think it’s ambitious at all; you would have done well there,” Jungkook said quite seriously. He wasn’t used to this side of you. You were normally so confident, it was strange seeing you doubt yourself. 

“Yah, is this your way of trying to get me to leave?” You were teasing slightly, but you weren’t prepared for the panic to appear all over his face.

“No— no— never! I just— you’re amazing— I was just saying that—” If he weren’t so flustered, you would have probably heard the part where he mentioned you were amazing.

“I know what you meant~” You chuckled lightly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. You saw this wave of relief wash over him, more than you expected, considering this was the guy who you feared didn’t like you.

Silence went on for a moment until Jungkook spoke up again. “You never answered my question, though. Do you regret coming here?” 

You thought about it for a second, before shaking your head. “Things have been kinda hectic, but I expected it; I mean, it’s a big company, I figured it wouldn’t be easy.” You decided to put it simply. Saying you did initially regret it to your boss probably wasn’t the best idea.

You thought that was the end of that, but when you finally turned back to Jungkook, you saw this weird somber gaze beginning to settle on his features. 

“I’ve been overworking everyone too much, haven’t I?” Jungkook suddenly said after your words finally settled in the air. 

You couldn’t hide the look of confusion on your face as you turned to him. His eyes were staring at the blinding computer screen before him, but you knew he wasn’t paying attention.

“What do you mean? Quarter fours are always busy—”

“That’s not what I mean… I know what they say sometimes. Everyone always speaks so highly of my dad, and he’s done so much for the company as CEO. The way things have gone so far makes me doubt I can meet their expectations when I take over…” That was an understatement. He couldn’t even make one woman happy. 

“The team I manage is already suffering.” He fretted. 

You found yourself at a bit of a loss on what to say. Where was this coming from? You were just joking a second ago but now… that look in his eyes. As he spoke, they grew more weary, tired, and sad. It was that same look you saw when you spilled coffee all over him on your first day here, it was the same look you saw earlier on the roof.

It was a peek into what was running through his head as he looked at you with those sad eyes. If you needed a bigger sign that something was seriously wrong, he couldn’t have given you a more obvious one. What made it even more concerning was that you didn’t know how big of a crack this was. What more could be lying behind those sad eyes?

“Jungkook, people understand you have a lot on your shoulders, it’s alright.” You tried to reassure, but you doubted he heard you. For a second, as he continued to stare down the spreadsheet he had up, you swore you saw his eyes get shiny.

“Ahh— sorry, this sometimes happens when I drink.” Jungkook finally snapped out of it, and hurriedly reached for his wine glass.

You watched concerningly as he chugged down the rest of the clear wine all in one go. 

“What happened to sipping lightly?” You tried to remind him jokingly about what he said as he poured your glasses earlier.

The wine glass clinked against the desk as he set it down.

“I’m fine— I’m making things weird. Tell me about yourself instead? Anything interesting happening in your life?” You could tell he was quickly trying to change the subject. You debated probing further, but you figured maybe a distraction might be what’s best to get him out of his train of thought.

“I was promoted not too long ago.” You smiled, and he actually laughed. It felt good seeing him smile again.

“I’m serious! You’ve nearly been here for two years, but I feel like this is the first time we’ve ever actually just talked.” Jungkook pointed out.

“I don’t think it’s normal to just walk up to your boss and talk about the weather or something.” You pointed out, but again it made your mind travel to the elephant in the room. Despite everything, had this entire time he wanted to be friendly with you? 

“I wouldn’t mind—“ He said it like he was serious, but sensing the sarcasm, you lightly swatted his shoulder— it was out of habit, but you regretted it immediately as soon as it happened.

Jungkook looked shocked for a second, before he smiled, that same smile that would make his eyes crinkle. “Exactly what I was saying, especially when we’re alone like this; treat me like we’re just coworkers.”

“Sir— Jungkook, I’m so sorry.” You felt like you were caught doing the worst crime imaginable— similar to how you felt after discovering you spilled coffee on the CEO’s son on your first day.

“Don’t worry, I really don’t—”

“I’m so so so sorry!” You panicked. Even though you really didn’t hit him hard, this might warrant him to hate you for an actual reason besides an accident.

Jungkook softly grabbed your shoulders to get you to calm down.

“Y/n, I told you it’s ok, really—” He suddenly stopped in his tracks because it seemed he realized how close in proximity you both had become now. Your chairs were a lot closer than you remembered and Jungkook pulling you a bit had somehow created a space between you that only had to be a few centimeters at most. From here, you could see the cute little scar he had on his left cheek.

He was staring directly into your eyes and you were staring back into his. Both of you seemingly shocked at the position you were in and stuck in place. It reminded you of what happened on the roof earlier, another precarious position, but as the seconds ticked by, you could have sworn his eyes darted down to your lips. Time seemed to slow down as you felt the gentle caress of his thumb on your shoulder, and… for a split second, you saw him bite down on his lower lip, only lightly teasing the flesh between his teeth— maybe it was the embarrassment, but it was so, so subtle, before you thought he started to lean a little closer. For a moment, you thought he was about to kiss you.

As quickly as that second came, he suddenly let go of you and tried to smile. “Uh— It seriously wasn’t a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

The moment of normalcy made you snap out of it. You honestly would have believed you blacked out for a second, but the way your face kept getting warmer was a sign something must have happened. 

As you turned away from him, you were greeted once again with the picture of him and his wife on their honeymoon. Right, he was married, you definitely imagined that.

Things grew awkward again as the silence settled into the room. You reached for your wine, wishing now it was a little stronger.

…

Saving the day from the growing discomfort being in this room was your phone buzzing on the desk. You sighed and set your glass down before you reached for it, not really thinking too much of it until you opened it to see a message from Solmi. 

You eagerly unlocked your phone, already having a feeling about what it was. Your smile erupted when you clicked on the picture she sent you. 

It was blurry, but you saw Solmi had quickly snapped a picture of her and Taehyung, who you heard earlier had decided to join her since you couldn’t make it. He had already been contemplating joining you both, but the fact that you definitely weren’t going with her, made him feel like he had to “be the responsible person there.” 

You had laughed at that considering they both were a handful, especially when alcohol was involved, but Taehyung could be worse if he got enough in his system. They matched each other’s energies so well, they had a sibling-like connection you had always found cute. Solmi was a year younger than you, and ever since she first introduced herself to your team when you used to be a manager, Taehyung had always taken on this big brother role to her, and it only got stronger as you all got closer to each other. Their bond created moments like this, Tae somehow getting dragged out to parties on a Tuesday. 

He’d left work a little early to go look for a last-minute costume, and you couldn’t help but laugh seeing what he’d somehow managed to get together. He was dressed as Mario— he had the hat, mustache, and you could just barely see the red shirt and straps that suggested he’d even managed to get overalls. Solmi was smiling beside him, and she had gone for another classic. She had already shown you a picture of her costume a few weeks ago, but she had thrown on some cat ears, drawn on a few whiskers, and you could also see a hint of the leather bodysuit she had on. 

It was a few seconds later that you got another text. 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:48pm]: you should be here >:O 

Followed by more pictures and even some videos. Then additional texts came at the end of the spam. 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:52pm]: taehyung’s drunk and keeps whining that he misses you 🙄 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:52pm]: i miss you too friend 🥺

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:53pm]: tell director jeon we hate him for stealing you from us 😘

You couldn’t help but laugh at this one. However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s eyes on you again, so you quickly scrolled back up to look at the pictures she sent you earlier. 

They were mainly the same, just a few different angles. It looked like Solmi kept clicking the button to get as many pictures as she could. There were some with them holding up glasses of beer and clinking them together. Solmi must have also gotten someone to take their picture because she sent you a full-body one where you could see their entire costumes. You could see a few more details you didn’t get to at first. Taehyung had on these thick white gloves and boots. Solmi had left her bodysuit unzipped a little extra than what they advertised in the picture she’d shown you. You knew her goal was to try and get laid tonight, you silently saluted her, hoping she could succeed. She had even decided to brave wearing high-heeled boots to add that extra level of sexy to her outfit. There were also some pictures that showed they had moved into whatever club or bar they ended up in, and were busy enjoying themselves on the dance floor. 

You were so caught up in the sadness steadily filling your heart seeing your friends out having a great time while you were stuck at work, that you really forgot Jungkook was in the room with you. It was something you had gone through all your life, your friends out having fun and always needing to leave you behind… at least you could have been home enjoying yourself, but—

You scrolled back up and clicked on the first video she sent you. The sound of music filled the silence, and you were quickly greeted with Solmi’s smiling face as she danced along. She then brought the phone close. 

“You should be here Y/n! You left me with this idiot—” She then turned the camera around to reveal Taehyung who was dancing intensely beside her. It took him a second to notice the camera, but then he smiled as she brought it close. 

“Miss you Y/n!” He tried to say over the music before the video cut off. 

Awwww… you missed them too. But your attention tore away from your phone when you suddenly noticed Jungkook leaning over. 

“They’re at a club on a Tuesday?” He asked curiously. 

You smiled. “Mmmm, someone’s nosy.” You chuckled and that immediately had Jungkook leaning back. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t—” He quickly tried to defend, but you just laughed and leaned over yourself. 

“You’re fine, look.” You held out your phone to him so he could see a little better. At first you contemplated showing your boss these pictures, but you figured there was no harm, they were honestly cute. 

“It's Halloween?” He suddenly said, taking a better look to see they were dressed up.

“Yeah, did you forget?” You laughed, making him chuckle too.

“My memory is horrible these days.” Jungkook shied, running his hands through his hair.

“Understandable. Things have been really busy these days, it’s hard to keep track of what’s happening anymore.”

Jungkook nodded along as you spoke, but he couldn’t help but sigh. It felt like the world was moving without him, that he was just an observer in the background until moments like these where he was brought back down to realize time had in fact passed, and it was always more than expected. He could have sworn it was Chuseok just the other week. 

“Solmi had wanted to go bar hopping after she heard about all the stuff that they’re doing in Itaewon this year. She wanted me to come, but I was busy, so Taehyung decided to tag along and make sure she doesn’t do anything too crazy.” You smiled as you scrolled through the pictures and videos, and you landed on a particularly funny one where Taehyung managed to find a random pole and Solmi captured him hanging and swinging around it.   

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a special occasion. If I would’ve known, I could've worked on this by my—” But you stopped him. 

“It’s fine, two people make the work go faster, and I had been contemplating going anyway. Who wants to go out on a Tuesday besides Solmi?” You cringed, in all likelihood you probably would have spent your evening cozied up under your blankets, enjoying any free time you could manage and catching up on sleep when you got too tired. “I know they’re going to be struggling trying to get to work tomorrow.” You laughed at your words and at another video where someone had joined Taehyung on the pole, a guy in one of those full-body suits people use for greenscreen stuff. 

But despite your words, Jungkook’s silence told you he still was thinking about it. 

“Jungkook, I promise it’s fine. The wine alone makes up for it.” You smiled. You were definitely going to brag to them that you were gifted expensive wine from the Jeon Jungkook. They probably wouldn’t believe it until they came over and saw the bottle. You also had plans to look it up afterward, check the price, and confirm your sneaking suspicion that this really would make up for it.

Another video. Without pressing play, you could see Taehyung had the phone. What was going on? 

“Y/n, baby, I miss you so much. Solmi keeps trying to—” But the video cuts off before he could finish. 

You laughed and kept going with a smile on your face. You didn’t even notice Jungkook’s eyes or the fact that you didn’t question the nickname.

Hmmm.

“Yah… I don’t think I could do this anymore.” You suddenly said, as more and more hectic documentation came from Solmi.

Jungkook turned to you a little confused about what you meant. You showed him your phone again and revealed the crowd Solmi and Taehyung had found themselves in in their latest pictures. 

“Partying like this. I mean, I didn’t even do all this when I was in college, but now…”  You laughed. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

“I don’t think we’re old,” Jungkook interjected, making you laugh.

“Oooo, is this when Jeon Jungkook reveals that he actually enjoys going to parties?” The thought was hilarious for some reason. He didn't seem like the party type, at all. You couldn’t imagine him doing anything else but work. 

“No— I just don’t think our age is a factor in us being able to go out and have fun at events like this…” 

You hummed at his answer. “I don’t know, the older I get, the more staying home and doing absolutely nothing becomes more and more appealing.” 

He laughed at that. “For me, that has nothing to do with getting older. But I somewhat see your point, college me was a very different person.” 

Was he?

You peered at him. Now that the thought was in your head, trying to imagine college-aged Jungkook. Hmmm…

You turned around over to where Jungkook had hung up his degrees. You had seen them before, but being this close actually gave you the chance to really look at them. 

You found yourself both shocked and not shocked at all to find out he graduated from SNU. It was the top university in the country, and of course the golden boy probably easily got accepted. No, that wasn't surprising, what was more interesting was the fact he didn’t have one but two bachelor's degrees, one in business and the other in computer science, you quickly read. It wasn’t the most outrageous thing to imagine because he was going to be the CEO of a tech company, but you knew that jaded perception you had of Jungkook still lingered because you couldn’t picture him actually managing to do all that work to get two very different degrees. 

“Did you even have time to go to parties?” You couldn’t help but ask. For all you knew he paid his way to get these degrees, but the more you talked with him, the more you couldn’t picture him doing that.

Jungkook laughed as he leaned back in his chair. “No, but Jimin hyung made me get out sometimes.”

His words reminded you that Jimin had mentioned that he and Jungkook had gone to the same college. As it sunk in though, you found that information a little easier to digest. Jimin had always seemed really smart. 

“Were you always the guy standing in the corner, brooding, clearly upset because his friend dragged him out of the house?” You giggled, and Jungkook joined in.

“You really think I’m that boring?” He laughed and you only just now realized how much closer you both were to each other once again as you looked into his sparkling eyes.  

“You tell me.” You smirked. 

He laughed again.

“Where did you go? Did you go to school in Seoul? I'm surprised we never ran into each other.” You suddenly heard Jungkook ask. 

“Korea University.” You answered quickly, but then your face grew flushed. You should be confident; it was really a notable achievement and most people would be in awe anytime you mentioned it, but for some reason everything about Jungkook made you a little self-conscious. 

“Ooo, so we were pretty much in the same boat then.” He said, and you looked at him with questioning eyes. 

“Did you even have time to go to parties?” He chuckled, repeating your original question. You playfully rolled your eyes at that. 

“I would make time, as much as I could, but I was often in situations like these where I’d be the one left behind so I could work.” You were proclaimed the most fun, non-fun person by your friend group in college.

“Were you the person in the corner?” His low voice had you feeling a little funny.

“Jungkook I’m a lot of things. I’ve been called a workaholic, understandable, but a wallflower is not one of them. You will find me on the dance floor at any given opportunity,” you boasted. 

Jungkook laughed again, the pinkness to his cheeks making you fawn. “I would like to see that.” 

Oh… you hated the way your body tingled at the thought of him watching you.

“Get me alone like this on a Friday or something, bring more wine like this one, and I’ll dance for you.” You smirked. 

His eyes quickly glanced over you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Noted.” 

You nodded, but it was mainly to shake the thoughts running through your mind out of your head. Fuck, Jeon Jungkook.     

“So you haven’t changed much then?” He inquired further. 

You shook your head. “I’ve always been this way. I put work before anything else, but I try to make a little time for fun sometimes.” You smiled. You turned back to Jungkook who had rested his arm on his desk and his head in his hand, with this smile on his face you couldn’t quite recognize.

“How do you do it?” He said softly. 

“What?” You laughed, but you were already getting choked up. He had no reason to look at you like that.

“I don’t know how to make time for anything else besides going home and to work. You’re amazing~” He chuckled nervously.

You were too busy however trained on the fact that he called you amazing. “A-Amazing?” You stumbled, your face was burned the more you thought about it.

Jungkook turned to you again when he realized what he had said. “It’s something I’ve always admired about you. You do so much, and you’re always so great with everyone here. Your meeting yesterday for example—” He gushed, and the more he spoke, the faster your heart started pounding in your chest.

“You did so well, and then there’s me. I’m supposed to be the head, yet—” Jungkook sighed and stopped himself knowing where this would go if he kept going. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

You sighed before picking up your wine and motioning over to his empty glass. He chuckled lightly before picking it up and clinking it against your own. You took one for the team and took a sip for you both.       

“Don’t sweat it too much. You’re not so bad yourself.” You smiled at him as you set the glass down. 

He really wasn’t. He still got on your nerves sometimes, but the Jungkook you’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks was almost entirely different from what you expected before you came into your position. He was cute, in a way that made you want to pinch his cheeks, no… that completely wasn’t right. He was cute in a way that made it hard for you to tear your gaze away from him. He was hot if you were being honest, but you didn’t want to admit that, he was married, and you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room as to why he was always so weird with you.

As the candle flickered, you took a moment to admire him, and how his white button-up stretched across his toned body nicely. You’d been trying to be on your best behavior all night, forcing yourself not to peer too closely at the way it fitted across his arms, or how he undid that button, and you could only picture how nice his chest might look the way the buttons seemed to be struggling to keep all that contained. Then there were the newly found tattoos that decorated his arm. You’d always liked tattoos, and you never pictured a big-corpa guy like Jungkook to be tatted. It just made you wonder how many more you couldn’t see… His hands were nice, fingers enhanced with his pretty gold and silver jewelry. Then his face, you might have drank too much, it was only one glass, but you had always loved how he looked at you. He was handsome, his pretty eyes, nose, jawline, and lips that you knew his wife probably went crazy over. Jungkook was hot and maybe in a different timeline… In a different timeline… It was starting to make a little more sense why he was already married.    

Jungkook’s face burned the longer your eyes peered over him. His brain was malfunctioning as he felt your gaze. It just made his already scrambled thoughts drift more to a place he knew they shouldn’t.

He wished he could kiss you.

Interrupting the moment was the sound of your phone buzzing on the desk again. You finally tore your eyes away again to look at your phone. Lo and behold, it was another text, however, it wasn't from Solmi this time; it was Taehyung.    

You opened it and it was a video. You once again didn’t think too much about it as you clicked play.

“Y/n!” Taehyung had tried to yell over the music. It seemed he had made his way to a table and was taking a little break. “You should be here getting drunk with us.” He sighed.

“Solmi abandoned me for this random guy who came up to her while we were dancing.” You giggled at the pout on his face. “You should be here, I’m just going to be third-wheeling the rest of the night.” He sighed. 

You laughed at that. Anytime you all have gone out together, you and Taehyung were usually left behind, while Solmi abandoned you both for her person of interest for the night. You always had fun together, making the most of the fact that a member of your friend group left you for some rando for the rest of the night.  

“I miss youuuuuu. Fuck Jeon Jungkook for making you stay.” He whined, and you could tell the alcohol had really started to have an effect on him. You panicked, feeling Jungkook’s eyes burning into your phone.  

Oh, this really was a bad idea. 

“I might head home soon. We’ve been to I don’t know how many bars, and I’m drunk as shit. If I’m late or you don’t see me at work tomorrow, you know why. Anyway, I miss you and if I’m not there tomorrow, I’ll try and come over if you’re free.” You were hardly processing his words as Jungkook’s gaze burned into you.

“Byeeee…” He waved at the camera. “Solmi says bye too even though she’s not here. I’ll text you later.” The video then clicked off and you were left with the mortifying silence.

You worriedly glanced over at Jungkook. “I’m sorry, he didn’t mean it like—”

Jungkook weakly smiled at you. “It’s fine. I still feel bad for keeping you here.” 

“And I told you it was fine.” You both smiled at each other, but you hurriedly reached for your wine once again, feeling that awkward silence return all too quickly.     

“So, um… how are things going for you dating-wise?” Jungkook suddenly asked out of the blue.

You nearly spit out your wine. “What?!”

He suddenly looked panicked. “I just mean— well, I told you about my marriage, I don’t know, I thought— you know, I wondered how things were going for people my age who aren’t married. I mean— well, no, I was really curious about you too—“ He was rambling.

“Uh, it’s fine.” You were still flustered, but you understood what he was trying to say.

“Are you and Taehyung…?” Jungkook stopped himself, worrying he overstepped with the suggestion.

“Mmm, that’s what everyone around the office seems to think.” You sighed as you leaned back in your chair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“Jungkook, do you think you can keep a secret?” You asked, before he could finish.

“Yeah, I guess so.” But that alone was enough to give Jungkook a bad feeling about your answer. The endearing nickname he heard from Taehyung in the video was pretty much the nail in the coffin. It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t his business, he really didn’t know why he was asking. However, he couldn’t lie and say it hadn’t been on his mind for a while as he watched you from afar over the years. There had always been this suspicion that there had been more going on between you two than just being friends. 

You waited a second, the suspense killing him even though he felt like he knew the answer already. 

“We actually did date.” You answered bluntly.  

The words seemed to linger in the air for a second. You watched as Jungkook’s eyes widened as he seemed to take that in.

“Really?” He sounded surprised, but there was a trembling in his voice that made it seem like the news of the century. The shock hadn’t been real, but he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling that spread throughout his entire body as the words processed in his mind. So, he hadn’t been crazy. He suddenly had the very violent urge to throw up the lunch you had so kindly insisted for him to eat; that, or he could send you away and attempt to water down this feeling with anything he could find in his fridge.

You nodded.

“It was only for a few months, and we never really put a label on it at the time. It was dating in the most casual sense.”

Jungkook was too busy trying his best to ignore the way his heart squeezed, he didn’t even bother paying attention to your use of past tense.

“Again, it was only for a few months— we decided we were better off as friends than anything more at the end of it.”

Did you? Jungkook still saw the way Taehyung looked at you. He wondered how that conversation went. Was it you who made the decision and Taehyung just agreed? Maybe it was him, and Jungkook was wrong. He still didn’t like him.

“We didn’t tell anyone at work, not even Solmi officially; you know how office romances can go. Plus, we knew what people were saying, we didn’t want them to get excited and things didn't work out. But I guess we didn’t do a good job of hiding it.”

Turned out for the better.

“If it’s not too personal, can I ask what made you come to that conclusion?” He really was curious.

You looked around for a second, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to say too much; it’s mainly Taehyung’s business, and I don’t want to reveal anything he wouldn’t want me to, but Taehyung had a lot going on in his life when we started dating. Despite our connection, what he was going through made it hard for us to take things to the next level. It’s kinda hard to describe unless you’ve been in that situation. We had all the basics: we were attracted to each other, he was great company, and we really did mesh well. But the more we crossed into that territory, the more we realized something was missing at that time. It’s like we had all the right ingredients, but never the spark to actually turn it into anything.”

Jungkook didn’t really get the picture. What more did you need in a relationship? What was the “spark?”

He still nodded his head.

“When did this happen?”

“End of last year, slightly going into this one.” You recounted.

Again, that strange feeling of his heart tightening returned. He tried his best to ignore it. However, it wasn’t enough to stop him from asking his next question.

“Would you guys ever get back together? You mentioned he was going through something at the time… would you ever try again?” Jungkook felt his face flush as soon as the words left his mouth. This was probably way too personal. 

You looked noticeably shocked by his question, but maybe you wrote it off as the wine making him a little loose, or perhaps a slightly awkward attempt to keep this conversation going. Part of you considered whether you wanted to answer this question or not, but there was no harm in it really. 

“Um— I guess it’s not impossible. We ended things pretty open ended. Taehyung suggested that maybe we should try again when things finally got better for him, but it’s been months since then. We haven’t spoken about getting together, so I’m not sure. I just assumed he figured we’re better off as friends.” Your words trailed off at the end. 

Jungkook was tempted to ask if you wanted to get back together, but he stopped himself, not really wanting to hear the answer. You probably already thought he was weird.

Some much-needed silence passed for a little while. 

…

Jungkook shifted around in his chair awkwardly, desperately wanting to get the picture of you and Taehyung together out of his mind. He asked the first thing that he could think of, even though it really wasn’t much better. 

“Anything else exciting in the romance department?”

“Not really. Taehyung was probably the most recent. Things have been kinda dry since.” Suddenly, you seemed flustered. “Wait! Not in that way! Well… you know what I mean, right?” 

Now it was Jungkook’s turn to get warm, and he did a horrible job at brushing past the image you put in his head.

“Yeah— oh yeah, I know what you mean.” He spluttered, but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining being buried between your thighs. All of a sudden, his mind was back to that dream again and your pretty sounds as he slid through your warmth. Would you let him make you feel good? What he would give just for the chance to bring you some type of relief… All he wanted to do was make someone feel good.

But he was Jeon Jungkook. Even if he was in a position where he could, he doubted he would be able to do anything for you. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t do anything right. Nothing.

“What about you?” You suddenly asked to ease the tension in the air. “Has it always been your wife?” You were honestly expecting a sob story that would melt your heart as soon as it began, a nice transition to hopefully get away from the weirdness that had settled into the room.

“I guess you could say that— Yuri and I got married right after I graduated. Besides her, I never really dated anyone. I was so busy throughout high school trying to work on getting into a good college once it was decided I was going to be taking over the company— I thought I would wait and try the whole dating thing in college, but then I got there… things were even worse…” Jungkook trailed off.

“Until you met Yuri?” You piped in, wondering when she came into the story.

The mention of Yuri visibly shocked him. Right, because you and everyone else thought they met while in college— a silly suggestion by their parents that turned into a fiery romance that burned so hard they couldn’t wait to get married. If Jungkook were a better husband, that illusion would be so simple to keep up— it’d be so easy when speaking to people to forget about the contract that was signed along with their marriage license. 

But Jungkook wasn’t a good husband, he was a husband who made his wife feel miserable just by being in his presence, no matter how hard he tried. He was always a failure.

“Jungkook?” You questioned when he wasn’t answering, seemingly lost in thought again.

“Oh yeah! Yeah, then Yuri came into my life. Things were hard, but you know what they say, the worst storms always bloom the best flowers afterward.” Jungkook was lying through his teeth, and he wondered if you could tell. 

Going from college to being married was one shitstorm to the next, and it was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

He knew he must have looked strange at the way you continued to stare at him. But instead of pressing any further, you let the silence fill the air until you both finally got back to work. 

Jungkook typed away on his keyboard, but steadily his mind continued to fill with thoughts that felt like bombs going off in his mind— loud and destructive, the ones he knew would end him one day.

If you weren’t here, he would have downed that wine bottle, maybe a couple of beers too to try and bring the eye of the storm closer. But nothing he did was ever enough. It was never enough, just like he would never be. He was so tired, so tired of every single day being the same. He wanted peace, he wanted a happy marriage, he wanted to be a confident boss who assured everyone that Golden Tech was being handed over to a capable person.

Will the storm ever be over? Would he ever get to see the sunshine again? He was so fed up, and so, so tired. It would be so much easier that way. Nothing was helping anymore, no matter how much he’d drink, no matter how much he’d tell himself to get better, to make things better, that everything wrong with his life was his fault— nothing ever changed, nothing ever helped.

In the middle of the sea with no land in sight, sometimes drowning was your only option. His limbs hurt, he was exhausted from swimming too long, he was so tired, he couldn’t keep his head above the water. The sea underneath him no longer seemed like an angry beast trying to pull him down with all its might, he didn’t want to fight against it anymore, he wanted to relax, to let it embrace him, let it comfort him in a way that no earthly distraction could ever grant him. He wanted peace.

Peace. The quiet. He wanted it, needed it, he—

“Jungkook, do you like me?” Once again, you were here to cut through the darkness. At first, he didn’t even register your question until you quickly tried to backtrack. 

“That’s not what I meant— I… sorry I speak without thinking sometimes.” It seems like it happened all the time tonight, and that was all it took for Jungkook to remember he was here alone with you, and he wanted you bent over his desk.

Jungkook tried his best to ignore the way his cock pleaded for you and let you elaborate. 

“I was nearly finished with my work, and I had wanted to ask you this before I left… this might be a bit inappropriate, but I thought that maybe since we’ve been pretty casual with each other you wouldn’t mind if I asked whether you hated me or not.” You worriedly peered over at him.

Jungkook just stared at you, a little confused, wondering where this was coming from. It was right before you were about to elaborate that he understood. 

“Again, this might be out of line, but ever since my first day here, when I spilled coffee all over your suit, I’ve felt like I had a target on my back.” You were still trying to be professional, so you dumbed it down a little. If you said what you actually thought, you were sure you wouldn’t walk out of here with a job.

“I—I don’t hate you!” He rushed out.

He really didn’t, but you did piss him off, you still did. You pissed him off so much it didn’t make sense. It was confusing to him as well, but what happened with the coffee he knew was at the bottom of the list for his reasons— whatever they were.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m not oblivious; I can see how you treat everyone else on the team versus how you treat me. It’s been like that since my first day.”

It wasn’t a good look.

“I don’t hate you.” He stated a little more firmly this time; he really didn’t. “I will admit we didn’t meet on the best day or under the best circumstances— that just made things awkward from the get-go. But I don’t hate you, Y/n.”

By the look on your face— you still weren’t buying it.

“It’s not you, it’s me, I’m sorry. I have a lot going on in my life, and it seems like you’re often on the receiving end of it. Maybe it was the coffee at first, but I can assure you it’s not because of that.” Jungkook was scrambling, and you were still listening to him.

You already felt a little bad asking him this. Jungkook had a lot going on in his life, that much was obvious. The fact he let you drop the honorifics and gifted you an expensive bottle of wine should be enough proof that he couldn’t possibly hate you.

Unless the clear liquid turned out to be poison, but the fact you were sharing the bottle assured you that shouldn’t be the case. If Jungkook really did hate you, he had a weird way of showing it. But still, even if he didn’t mind your company, he manifested it in the strangest way possible.

“You always complete your work so well too, I can understand that it might be frustrating to you.” Jungkook was still rambling, but that much was true. You were a great employee and someone he could always rely on to get the work done well and on time.

“I’m so sorry.” He finally just pleaded.

You were truly amazing. Everything that he wasn’t.

His anger and frustration were misplaced, he knew that, and it wasn’t fair to you. An actual good boss wouldn't take out his frustrations on his employees, no matter what was going on in his personal life.

It just goes to show how good of a person he is.

“Jungkook, it’s fine. I just wanted to be sure there wasn’t any bad blood between us, especially if we’re going to work a lot more closely from here on out—“  It was then when you finally turned back to him. 

His breath had quickened slightly, he had leaned over his desk, and his hands had tangled into his hair. The long strands blocked his face, but you could tell something was wrong.

You reached a hand out and rested it on his forearm. The minute you did, he finally turned back to face you. Just like on the roof, you saw his eyes, and despite only having the city lights outside and the faint flicker of the candles, you could see the shininess.

It was terrifying, because you were close this time; you could perfectly see the despair that painted his features.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine— we’re almost done, let’s get through this, okay?” He quickly said, returning to typing on his keyboard.

“Jungkook—“ You tried, but he seemed adamant about finishing and getting the work done.

You sighed and followed his lead. You couldn’t ignore the guilt that coursed through your body. Once again, you missed the opportunity.

•────•──────────•────•

The bombs were back once again, and louder than ever it seemed. This happened every time his mind would wander in that direction, and it was almost impossible to turn it off once it started. With you here, it made his usual method of drinking until it stopped impossible unless he wanted to make a fool of himself in front of you. Instead, in order to ensure he wouldn’t lose it, he turned to the only thing he knew would drown the noise in his mind. You— you and that dream he had this morning.

His fingers were fast on the keyboard, but all he could picture as he stared at his screen was the fleeting memory of what it felt like to pound into you.

You on that meeting table, that purple blouse exposing your shoulders, your skirt around your waist, and in, out, in, out, his hips would move into your sopping heat. The drean was so fuzzy, and he hardly had a memory to draw from. It’s been ten months since he last had sex. Ten months of unbearable torture, much like what he experienced this morning.

He’s tried his best to be good to Yuri, assuring her that she was beautiful and telling her he wanted her now and always. Just last week, he had her clinging to their countertop as he was on his knees, pleasing her between her thighs.

It had nearly sent him over the edge untouched. Tears had filled his eyes because he was so sure he’d make another mistake, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her upset. 

He had tried to plead then, but he was too eager and said she had enough for the night. A cold shower had barely stopped him from giving into such disgusting urges, just like earlier today. Now he feared next time he wouldn’t be strong enough. 

If you weren’t right beside him, his hands would probably be in his pants right now. It was horrible, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be an adult and control himself. But that’s what the last ten months of his life had been like— Yuri testing him any chance she could, doing anything and everything to get under his skin. 

Yuri loved to tease him. He loved it too, it was only in those moments when he felt wanted. Didn’t she see how much he wanted her?

As childish as it was, Jungkook wanted to blame her for all this. Why couldn’t she listen? He had told her he wanted a break, a break from anything sexual for a while once he had recovered from pneumonia. It would offer the chance for them to work on and prioritize their relationship— just as he’d discussed with Dr. Min. He begged her to listen, that he would put in the effort so they could spend more quality time together to fill the void. He promised, but that short time she listened was absolutely miserable.

Yuri would wear those tiny shorts more often, and did everything she possibly could to get under his skin. He’d even walked into their room one day to see her using her fingers to do his job. She had forced him to just sit and watch, because it was his dumb idea and he had to pay for it.

It’s just been so long…

You sitting next to him was enough to send him over the edge. You and your short skirt, long legs, and that red lipstick. 

It’s been so long, he wished he could make his dream a reality; he wanted you bent over his desk right now, with your skirt pushed so far up he could watch your ass as he hurriedly pushed into you from behind. You would look so pretty, you always did.

He was desperate at this point, he needed something, anything… 

He had to get out of here. Jungkook wished he could count on Yuri being at the apartment, that she would see what she'd done to him and all would be well again, but he knew she wouldn’t. It’s not like he deserved it either. 

This was his rightful punishment. 

The fact things were so bad, the thought of an affair crossing his mind was sufficient proof that he deserved everything that was happening to him.

Jungkook was hardly paying attention to what he was typing, too focused on trying to stop the tears that were quickly welling up in his eyes and ignoring the way his cock throbbed. 

He was hard, painfully so— in public, and he was right next to you. 

He felt it happen, budget numbers being replaced in his mind with despondency, and how in a haste to escape his darker thoughts, his brain tried to go somewhere a little more buoyant, and instead fixated on the lewdness of what you did to him. That need to feel you, just the thought of feeling you, touching you— for you to need him, he wanted so badly for someone to need him.

This was so embarrassing…

“Alright! I think I’m done on my side~” You celebrated, and it was horrible how when he looked over and saw your bright smile, it just made things worse.

He wanted you. 

It was then that Jungkook realized he’d just been staring at his monitor for a while. It seems he’d been done as well. 

You picked up immediately that something was still off in the look you gave him.

“Uh— uh yeah, me too. We can be done here for tonight. We can meet in the morning and review everything before the meeting later.” Jungkook rushed as he hurriedly shut his computer off.

He needed to get out of here.

He knew his haste shocked you a bit. With his monitor off, a newfound darkness had filled the room, and his speed hurried you to shut off your laptop as well.

Jungkook recorked the wine he was giving you before he tried to get up inconspicuously, turning away from you as much as he could. Even with the darkness in his office, he felt it would be hard to hide what his dirty mind had done to him. 

He couldn’t let you see, he was already so ashamed. 

If you saw this…

His eyes were watery as he shakily got up from his chair. This was so embarrassing…

After you turned your laptop off, you got up too, noticing Jungkook was trying to hurry this up. You didn’t blame him; it was already near one in the morning, but you could still sense something was wrong.

“Jungkook?” You called out as you rested a hand on his shoulder, completely stopping him in his tracks. His eyes glanced down at your hand and then back up at you. You weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes the longer you stared into them. You couldn’t exactly read it; it was similar to what you saw on the roof. 

It made you hot in an instant as you got lost in his dark gaze. You knew you weren’t mistaken this time as you watched him scan over you. The candlelight flickered in between you, illuminating his shiny eyes and how obvious they settled on your lips. It just made you aware how nice his arm felt under your touch, and how alone you both were in the office. This was bad. 

What were you doing? 

“Is everything alright?” You questioned, your voice so meek you wanted to slap yourself. You needed to get it together. 

This causedJungkook to snap out of it as well, finally tearing his eyes away from you. “I— um, I’m fine.” It didn’t sound confident at all, and you noticed. 

You might have questioned it, but you knew you needed to get out of here. 

“Si— Jungkook, I’ll be right back!” You hurried as you started wheeling the chair you stole from Secretary Yu’s desk out the room.

“Alright.” He said weakly as you quickly passed by. 

As soon as the door closed behind you, the tears he had been holding back finally fell down his cheeks. This was just so embarrassing, it hurt so much. He just needed a minute or two alone, that’s all, and he could ease the ache. But that also means giving in, disappointing Yuri more than he already has.

Jungkook quickly wiped his face, scared you might come in any second now, and instead worked on blowing out the candles that were still burning around the room.

The darker it was, the less likely you’d see his shame.

Jungkook made quick work of blowing the candles out around the room, first going to the ones on the little tables, then he came back to where he had placed the most, on his desk.

As much as he wished this was a sufficient distraction, it wasn’t. He was still thinking about you and how much he wished you would be the one to help him, he would take anything at this point.

He was blowing out the last candle when he heard the door open again.

“Woah, you did a lot without me.” You remarked, seeing the room darkened by the candles being out already. And he was glad he worked so fast. One candle and he feared that would have been enough for you to notice what he was hiding.

It was disgusting how badly he wanted you.

“Y-yeah, I don’t want to keep you here later than necessary.” He stuttered and shakily turned around to face you.

Jungkook was nearly blown away seeing how gorgeous you were. The window bathed you in a beautiful glow that was only achievable by the moonlight. You were absolutely stunning, a goddess, a temptress pulling him in to commit the most horrible acts; and it was working.

Your heels steadily clicked as you walked, your red-stained lips that were turned up into a warm smile lured him even further into temptation, all the while your twinkling eyes peered over his quivering body.

He wanted you so badly…

The sweet perfume you were wearing just made the tears in his eyes grow even heavier, you smelled really good. He would do anything to relieve this ache. The desire was mind numbing at this point.

Jungkook hardly noticed both of your jackets and the scarf he’d worn were in your hands.

You handed him his jacket with a weak smile. It took him a minute to realize what you were doing, too busy staring into your shimmering orbs that would always have him choked up anytime he tried to speak to you.

“Jungkook?” You called out worriedly.

“U-uh I-I’m sorry.” He tried to laugh it off as he grabbed it, but he failed miserably, and it sounded more like a choked sob. He was hoping you’d brush it off as he quickly put on his black, fuzzy trench coat, but he knew it was too late in the way his vision grew blurry from tears. The dam had been broken and he just couldn’t stop it anymore.

You were still holding his scarf when he finally looked back up at you, and the look of concern in your face was unmistakable. You could see his despair.

“Jungkook…” Your voice was so soft and warm, like a flame lit in the dead of night. You reached up to drape the scarf across his shoulders, but your eyes were still locked into his, like you were staring right through his soul and could easily see everything.

Standing so close, you could see the pain hidden behind the starry way his eyes would shine, you could feel the hurt— they were just like Mi-Sun’s. Your hand lingered on his shoulders, before you finally found the confidence to reach your hand up and ever so gently cup his cheek.

Like on instinct, he couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling further into your warmth, a flicker of light in the frozen tundra he had become. It was an overwhelming affection he had never known, and while you may have just done it because of how pathetic he looked, it was something. He closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the taste of the haven he’d been craving for years.

“Jungkook, are you ok?” You finally asked earnestly because he genuinely looked like he was about to break. 

Jimin had been the only person to ever ask him that. He thought he’d been doing well at hiding from everyone the storm that raged on in his mind, but hearing you could clearly see something was wrong…

It felt real, too real.

You looked so worried, and as he felt your hand on his cheek, he just broke down.

Jungkook shook his head as tears easily slipped past his eyes and trickled down your hand. 

He wasn’t fine, he was the furthest from fine. Sometimes he wished the earth would swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to wake up and feel like this every single day. He hadn’t been fine in years, and the weight of it all came crashing down at that very moment. He could tell you were about to question him further, but he didn’t give you the chance as his hand slowly came up and snaked around your waist to pull you close.

Jungkook didn’t know what he was doing, this was wrong on so many levels and went against everything he stood for, but in the moment he didn’t think, he just wanted to stop the pain. 

That warmth, he needed you.

Jungkook pulled you so close, closer than you both stood earlier in the hallway on the roof, you could probably feel the shame he was trying to hide.

Time stood still for a second as he stared down at your red-stained lips, the bright color like a lighthouse for a desperate sailor in the middle of a storm. You were the refuge he needed, and right now, he didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you.

Jungkook leaned forward so he could rest his head in the crook of your neck and bathed in the sweet scent of your perfume. He was so worthless that even just that seemed to make the ache worse.

He felt your arms wrap around his waist and you pulled him a little closer. The movement was slight, but it created just enough friction for a soft, unmistakable moan to escape his lips.

You could certainly feel it now.  

Jungkook felt like his skin was on fire, only moments away from boiling over, and you were the only one who could fix this. 

He lifted his head slowly, his face still wet with the tears that continuously spilled from his sad eyes. The hand that had been on your waist quickly trailed up your side to settle on your jawline, his thumb so gently grazed across your cheek.

You were dangerously close, he’d never experienced a need to this degree. He needed you, he wanted you so badly he wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

“Please— I need— can we…” You probably could barely hear him, his voice hoarse from the strain and he was shaking so much. 

But it seemed he didn’t need to elaborate; you knew what he wanted. Your hand came up from his waist to grab his shoulders to pull him closer, making his lips not even centimeters from yours.

Jungkook lost it. He couldn’t stop himself as he finally closed the distance. His lips were on yours in a haste, but he was slow and gentle as you both tried to process the fact this was happening. 

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he tasted the sweetness of the wine you both drank only moments before. Your lips were so soft, pillowy, and inviting. He could feel the soft tickle of your breath beneath his nose, gently pulling you close, as you breathed each other in.

The world around him seemed to disappear at that moment. He forgot about Yuri, he forgot about his marriage, he forgot how shitty he’s been feeling, he forgot about the contract, he forgot who he was. Right now, he wasn’t the future CEO of the second-biggest tech provider in the country— he was just Jeon Jungkook.

Nothing else mattered in the moment. It was just you, him, and ten months' worth of bottled-up lust.

His touch was hesitant at first, like he was so sure any moment you might change your mind. He thought you would, he was sure you would, that you would realize what he was doing, and your appalled reaction would be enough to finally wake him up and make him register what he’d just done. His brain was shot, but he remembered what this was usually like, waiting for the moment when you would say something, yell, scream, complain that he wasn’t good enough. He didn’t think he was, but that just made him more desperate. He wanted to prove himself.

But you never stopped him as his hands steadily grew more fervent, tugging at your white button-up and traveling down your sides to grab and touch as much as he could, settling just above the curve of your ass. The kiss quickly grew more heated, from slow, sensual pecks, to you both were practically trying to eat each other, building the ever-growing heat that settled between you two. It wasn’t a slow flame that steadily spread, but an explosion of lust that violently consumed everything in its path. 

Your hands grew curious, playing with the button-up he had tucked into his black slacks, and occasionally pressing down into the belt wrapped around his waist.

The sensation made Jungkook’s knees almost give out entirely. He fell back slightly onto his desk that sat behind him, breaking the kiss for just a second.

The moment was brief, but Jungkook used it as the perfect opportunity to finally let his hands slip under your skirt. He gripped your ass, enjoying the way the soft skin felt in his grasp way too much.

Fuck.

Jungkook didn’t know how it happened; all he could remember was hearing you gasp as he suddenly flipped you both around and had you pinned against his desk. He didn’t give you any time to process what was happening, because his lips were back on yours with even more ferocity. He just had to feel you. 

It hurt so much.

Jungkook could hardly help you up, the kiss grew more intense, and all he heard was the sound of anything in the way being forcefully pushed back— some things clattering to the ground, your heels even falling off in the commotion. But he couldn’t care less, not with the way you were clinging onto him as desperately as he needed to feel you.

It was messy, so fucking messy as he kissed you with all the pent-up lust that’s been building since you walked into him with your coffee. Your teeth clinked together more often than not. Jungkook was kissing you so hard, at some point he was so sure he was going to actually climb inside you.

But it felt so good.

Your legs hastily came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his needy self to where he wanted to be so fucking badly. The moan he let out was embarrassing; it was more like a whimper in all honesty, but he couldn’t stop thinking about this morning and all the dreams he had of being in this exact position.

His hips eagerly chased yours, desperate, so fucking embarrassingly desperate for any type of friction.

Everything was happening so fast, and still, the tears didn’t stop pouring out of his eyes. It was so sad, Jungkook couldn’t even kiss you anymore. The moment his aching cock felt your clothed heat against his, kissing you proved impossible. 

His mind felt like the most chaotic storm; he felt drunk not off the wine you shared, but of you, and he wanted so much more.

“Oh—“ You cried.

Just a few glides of his hips and he had you making such pretty sounds, even better than what he remembered from his dream. He only got greedier, and his pace increased too much.

He was going to cum.

“F-fuuu-uck” he tried to hold it back, but it just came out as something in between a moan and a sob. 

“It’s ok…” Your voice was soft and gentle as you tried to get him to look at you again. His eyes were so pretty, you wanted to see them again.

“I need you so bad.” Jungkook cried into the crook of your neck.

It hurt so much. He wanted to cum, any longer, and he was sure this was going to turn into a horrible disaster. He was so tempted to keep going just like this, to rock into you until he came in his pants like he was sure to at any moment.

“You can— have me— it’s alright.” Your voice was so soothing, but hicked when his hips came to meet yours in a haste. Your hand came up to run through his long hair. 

The affection was new, something he hadn’t experienced before, which made things so much worse.

It physically pained him to pull away, even for just a second, as he moved over and straddled your thigh— that wasn’t his intention, but your thigh was right there as he worked to change the position, and he needed to feel anything to ease the ache.

On instinct, your thigh raised up, and he could have cried— he was crying. He hadn’t stopped crying since you walked in— it just felt so good. His brain was scrambled, but he couldn’t— he wouldn’t allow himself to cum until he was inside you. He wanted to be selfish. He needed you.

Jungkook grabbed your chin so you would look up at him. He took a second to admire your delicate features; you were absolutely stunning, and he hated it. To drown out the agony, he kissed you lightly before moving to your cheek and he trailed down to your neck.

“Jungkook…” His name fell so prettily from your lips as your arm wrapped around his neck.

For a split second, Jungkook thought about Taehyung— he wondered if while you were together he got to see you like this, if you moaned his name so beautifully. It was only for a second, but it was enough to get him to suck a little harder on your skin, so that it would leave a mark.

He hoped it would.

“Don’t stop—” You whined. 

Jungkook let his hand travel down your body, stopping when he felt the buttons of your shirt. He needed this shit off now.

Using what very little brain power he had left, he tried to focus on getting the buttons undone, but it proved to be an impossible task. He was only using one hand, and Jungkook was more than distracted with painting your neck and enjoying the subtle pleasure of rubbing himself along your thigh.

Frustrated, Jungkook did the only thing his horny brain could think of at that moment, and pulled the fabric until the buttons snapped. For a second, he hoped he didn’t break any of them, but the worry quickly went away as he noticed the newly exposed skin and the pretty black bra you were wearing. His hands were eager and massaged your mounds with need. He was almost hypnotized as the moonlight outside painted your body and the feel of your soft skin in his hands.

The ache just got worse when he heard the soft sighs of pleasure fall from your red-stained lips. It delighted him too much seeing how it was smeared across your face. 

He hoped you weren’t too disappointed when he pulled away, but he hastily pulled up your skirt so it was bunched around your waist, just like it had been in his dream. The sight was even more bewitching than he imagined when he noticed what you were wearing.

Jungkook had too many fantasies where he would rip your stockings off to fuck you, but unlike what he’d pictured, you weren’t wearing stockings like he had expected, but the black sheer that covered your legs were thigh highs.

He just stared for a second because the wave of need that washed over him, didn’t make any sense at all. 

He whimpered as the picture started to become clearer, the sheer fabric coming up your legs to the lacy ends, your skirt bunched around your waist, and the black panties he could now see covering your core. It was hot; you were so hot, and he wanted to ruin you.

Suddenly, you grabbed his hand that was resting on your thigh. He looked into your eyes and could see the concern behind your gaze.

“You’re shaking…” You whispered so gently.

Jungkook looked down at his hand, and indeed he was.

Why? He didn’t know, and he didn’t really care at that moment. Jungkook did what he wanted to for so long, instead of answering, he shut you up with a kiss. Sometimes, you really did talk too much. No more talking; he couldn’t even think straight anymore to form an actual sentence. Instead, he used what little brain power he had left and let his hand slide up your thigh to hover right over your panties.

Jungkook barely touched you, but you were already bucking into his hand, like you were just begging for more. The arm you had wrapped around his neck tightened to pull him closer.

“Jungkook, please, please touch me.” You looked him directly in the eyes as you broke the kiss. 

He’d never heard those words before, and he knew from that point on that they should be illegal in how much they affected him. He wanted to please you—

Jungkook didn’t waste anymore time, and let his fingers brush over your clothed heat. He nearly lost his mind feeling the fabric damp already.

Did he do that?

“Please…” You whined, and Jungkook nearly broke after seeing the look on your face seemingly growing more frustrated.

He loved it too much.

Jungkook pressed into you a little harder, the fabric growing wetter by the second, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you. You clung onto him tighter when he pushed your panties to the side, finally letting his fingers run through your soaked folds. You cried out, and he almost did too when your pretty whines grew more desperate.

His fingers stopped once they reached your clit, rubbing tiny circles across the bud. Jungkook’s heart nearly beat out of his chest at your reaction, the way you shook and moaned underneath him, and he reveled in your pleas for more.

It just made him more eager once his fingers came down to your pleading hole, slowly pushing the digits inside you. 

The ache was unbearable now.

You cried out for him, it was his name that fell from your lips, and he couldn’t stop imagining it was his cock instead as he pushed in further. 

He wished it was.

You felt so good, so warm, so tight, and he still couldn’t get over how wet you were. He could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as they pumped inside you, just imagining this was his cock alone could have made him cum.

And so could you, the suddenness of everything had your body on high alert, every new sensation, so unexpected you couldn’t keep up. It was all too much, his body on yours, his fingers inside of you, his pained whimpers as he steadily rubbed himself along your thigh.

Too much, yet you wanted more, you wanted so much more. You wanted to make him feel good too, so good that he wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“Jungkook, please.” You cried, pulling him close. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, but you relished in the sensation, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. Even in that moment, you couldn’t stop focusing on how wet his cheeks were and the feeling of more tears trickling down onto you.

You wanted him to be ok.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, pulling away slightly; he sped up his pace, enjoying the slick sounds of his fingers moving inside you and your pleading reaction way too much.

You cried and moaned so easily for him, like you both weren’t in his office right now, like you weren’t getting fingerfucked on his desk. It was dirty, and he hated how much he loved this.

“Does this feel good?” His raspy whisper right into your ear just made it all worse.

And it was all too much, he wanted to be inside you so badly, and he knew that if he waited any longer, he wouldn’t make it. 

“Yes, yes— fuck, yes!” You answered, clinging onto him just a little tighter.

He was already so close. Pathetic, so fucking pathetic.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook finally found the strength to pull his fingers out of you. What he would have given to see you fall apart on his fingers, but not when he felt like he was seconds away from combusting. He had to hurry this up.

You whined at how empty you felt all of a sudden and were about to question it, maybe even scream because you were getting so close, but the moment of clarity let you feel his shaky hand on your thigh as he sank to his knees.

You looked at him confused as to what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for you to get the picture as he started spreading your thighs once again.

You pulled on his hair lightly, making him look up at you with his big, bright, bewildered, round eyes. You felt your body light a blaze at the sight, so innocent in such a dirty position.

“No time. Want you inside me.” It was blunt, but the moment didn’t allow for anything more. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to still seem confused. 

“You— you don’t need me to—“ His voice was just as shaky as his hands were. He genuinely seemed confused.

“Just fuck me, please.” You whined, your hand coming down to rest under his chin. His eyes were red and watery, and you just hated it. You’d do anything to see him better.

Jungkook steadily rose to his feet once again, but that brief moment of pause was short-lived, as he was on you in a haste, lips on lips, needing, chasing, he had to feel you.

Jungkook had been so worried, so worried he’d disappoint you, he’d nearly burst into tears when he got on his knees knowing he couldn’t eat you out without making a mistake. Then you said it, just like Yuri did after she came back from that New Year’s party. You wanted him, needing him to make you feel good. “Just fuck me, please.” He’d never forget it, to the point it was replaying in his head even now, as he tried his best to make that one thing happen.

He just had to last a little longer. 

Jungkook scrambled, trying to feel you, kiss you, and get his belt loose. It was all too much, why he ever decided to wear belts in the first place was beyond him at the moment. So little was in the way, he had your permission, and all that stood in between what he wanted were a few thin layers of fabric.

He desperately rubbed himself against you, needing the friction as he kissed you, fuck, why wasn’t he inside you yet?!

Then your hands eagerly raked across his back, trying to pull him close. Yuri had never done that to him, and it was too much, too much when he’s not inside you yet. Jungkook tried again to get his belt off, but he couldn’t think anymore and was growing more desperate by the second, your hands, fuck he was so close. 

Tears spilled out of his eyes, so worried he was about to embarrass himself when he was so close, but then you swooped in to save the day.

You broke the kiss when you noticed he was struggling a bit, and decided to help.  

He looked so pretty like this, the moonlight highlighting all of his delicate features, his eyes sparkling so sadly in the light. He looked sad, so sad that if you made one wrong move, he’d burst into tears. What could possibly be making him feel this way?

Your hands ran up his back, over his shoulders, and down to the buttons of his shirt. You didn’t miss the way he shivered, his eyes fluttered closed, and his grip on your thigh grew tighter as you went past his neck. 

Your hands were a little shaky, but you managed to undo them all. As more was revealed, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of Jungkook being absolutely built. You had a feeling he worked out, but the sight of his firm chest, then his defined abs was one shock after another. 

It was bad how much you needed him.

It was lucky you were so distracted that you entirely missed how red Jungkook’s face had become under your gaze. He was scared, scared of you seeing him like this and thinking he was just as pathetic as Yuri says. What if you hated—

With his shirt undone, you slowly ran your hands over his warm skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Down his nape, chest, abs, and then eventually settling on his belt. 

Jungkook tried his best not to rut into you like some animal, but he had never been touched like this before, and he feared he was seconds away from exploding because of how good it felt. 

Taking him out of his spiraling thoughts, you hurriedly tugged on his belt, finally getting it undone so you could unfasten his pants.

His eyes were watery once again, feeling your hands graze past the prominent outline in his slacks. 

“P-Please!” He cried because it hurt so much, and he just wanted to feel you. His voice was hoarse, sounding more like a pained sob than anything coherent, but he needed anything at this point. 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You whispered right in his ear as you finally freed his aching length. 

Jungkook didn’t know what he was expecting, just enough help so he could finally push himself inside you, but then you didn’t let go. It didn’t fully register until you stared directly into his watery eyes and started dragging your hand slowly up his length. Jungkook could have screamed, he really wanted to, and would have if his voice wasn’t so hoarse. Maybe he was and he didn’t even realize it.

As you reached the tip, you focused all your attention on massaging the head, wanting to get a reaction out of him. You were pleasantly surprised as your thumb ran over the tip, the amount of pre-cum that seemed to just leak onto your fingers…

“Oh god.” He groaned, his voice was so shaky as he writhed in your grasp. He quickly had to shut his eyes, the pleasure was too much.

“Does this feel good?” Your voice was gentle once again, and Jungkook felt like he was moments away from blowing it. A strangled moan he couldn’t hold back left his lips.  

He couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening. Your hand was…? You were touching him? It was strange, horrible even, that for a moment he thought about Yuri, back in April when he practically begged her to touch him, just like this. He had begged her, but with you, he didn’t even need to ask. 

It was awful, so fucking horrific, but your hand was too much to handle as you went from running your fingers over the tip to steadily pumping his cock. Jungkook immediately knew he should have said something; each glide of your hand sent him closer to an edge he was practically hanging off of already, but fuck. This was pathetic, absolutely pathetic.

Jungkook whined as he buried himself into your shoulder and pushed you further into the desk. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something, to stop you. It would have been so easy. He knew deep down he didn’t want to. He moaned as he subtly rocked his hips into your grasp, he thought of this morning, how easily Yuri stopped, and the thought of having that taken away again.

He should have said something, he didn’t need to see your face to know you weren’t expecting this to go as far as it did. 

You’d only wanted to tease him a little before he finally filled you up, but maybe you should have realized how close he was. You certainly weren’t expecting his hoarse moans to grow louder and pained. 

His grip on your thighs quickly tightened, and suddenly, with a very pained cry, you felt wetness across your fingers. 

A colossal wave of pleasure hit him all at once with a strangled cry, a feeling he hadn’t felt after nearly a year. It was more than ecstasy, a high he never wanted to end, the most he’d felt in months. For a second, his life wasn’t a mess. He was happy, and everything was fine. It was overwhelming, and his knees nearly gave out entirely as you started gently pumping his length to help work his way through his high. 

It was a terrible mix of the pleasure he’d craved for months, and the guilt of being the failure he knew he was. Months of waiting, and he couldn’t at least make it inside you. It was embarrassing, pathetic, and not to mention as the ropes continued to come with each flick of your wrist, deep down he knew he truly had made a loathsome mistake because it just wouldn’t stop.

But it felt so good, it seemed never ending as each glide from your hand brought more euphoria than his brain ever thought was possible to experience. Yet the searing guilt that simmered behind the pleasure made his mangled moans turn into sobs. He was bawling in your arms, his tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. 

Your free hand gently rubbed his back to try and soothe him. He was shaking.

“I—I’m so sorry— so sorry.” Jungkook choked out. He clung to you a little tighter and buried himself further into your neck. He didn’t want to see the disappointed look on your face, he wouldn’t be able to bare it—

“Jungkook, it’s ok…” You tried to comfort him, feeling yourself getting a little emotional.

Your reassurance meant nothing, if anything it just made him more upset; he hated pity. This was a mistake, he was so disappointing, that’s all he ever did was make people disappointed. 

You seemed to notice your words didn’t do anything, so you pulled him out of your neck so he could look at you.

But instead of meeting your eyes, he immediately moved far back enough to see the scene of the crime. You were practically covered in his cum, your hand that had been grasping his length was coated in it, and your shirt and skirt were ruined with his mess. Ten months of shame and he’d covered you in it. 

Jungkook’s face burned at the sight.

His gaze finally pulled away to look into your eyes. Even in the darkness, you could see how wet and red his face was, but the tears never stopped as the guilt and embarrassment continued to take over him.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t—“ He tried to feign, but he was lying right through his teeth. He could have told you to stop sooner, but he didn’t want to; he had just been so close. 

Your sympathetic eyes just made things worse as you continued to look at him. 

“I wanted to—“ He wanted to fuck you, that much was true. As nice as your hand felt, he wanted more, so much more. To think he could have been buried deep inside you if he hadn't given in so quickly. 

“Jungkook, it’s ok, don’t worry about it.” You tried to reassure him, but with the haze of his orgasm fading, reality began to hit him at full force. 

He ruined your clothes, and he literally came all over you like a fucking teenager. How much more embarrassing could he be?!

“I can replace them if you want.” He sniffled out, but he felr like could barely understand him through his sobs. 

“It’s ok, I’m serious.” Your slight smile gave him more sympathy than he deserved. 

You turned around and noticed the tissue box beside you. You let him go, making a slight whine escape his lips as you did so, and you grabbed a tissue to start cleaning yourself up. 

…

To make matters worse, if he couldn’t get any more despicable, the lack of contact made a horrible realization dawn upon him. 

He still wanted more. Instead of the guilt from his actions, the burn raged on, a little tamer this time, but it was still there sizzling, waiting to erupt once again at any moment.

You finally looked up, noticing his apologies had become too quiet and his hands had begun to steadily run over your waist again. You hoped this meant Jungkook realized everything was alright and that there were no hard feelings, but you were a little shocked to see his dazed gaze staring directly down at your opened-up shirt that had your black bra still exposed. 

There was a hunger in his eyes you recognized from earlier. Hmmmm…

You put the tissue down before you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close. You were delighted at the sound of his gasp as he was tugged flush against your chest. You kissed his neck, before you moved back up to trail kisses along his jaw up to his ear. His grip on your thigh grew tighter with each move you made.

“Did you want to keep going?” Your voice was soft as you felt him shiver in your grasp.

“We—we don’t have to!” His voice was a lot louder than yours, like he was trying to defend himself from being led into a trap, but you felt his grip tighten around your waist.

The number of times he’d begged Yuri for a second chance anytime he came too quickly, he couldn’t believe this was real. This had to be a trap, you were trying to embarrass him, weren’t you? You wanted to ruin him. 

“You think you’re up for it?” You asked once again, your tone dropping to an octave that made his whole body shiver. 

If only you knew he could keep it up the whole night. Jungkook couldn’t say anything, he almost didn’t want to; at any moment, he thought you would take it back.

“You don’t know what you’re doing…” He whispered, lightly rubbing his cheek against yours. You were unlocking a part of himself he was scared to face. He didn’t think he could come back from this.

“I do… don’t worry.” Your tone was low as your teeth grazed across his ear. A moan fell from his lips before he could stop it. He felt like an animal as his mind thought about all the things he wanted to do to you. Instead of the degradation he’d expect from Yuri, his silence was rewarded with you wrapping your hand around his semi-hard length and pumping him once again ever so gently, careful not to overstimulate him too much. 

Jungkook could have screamed; his voice was too hoarse, but a guttural moan escaped his lips before he could even realize it. He couldn’t believe it; he had to be dreaming. But dream or not, that didn’t stop his softening length from beginning to grow hard once again in your grasp. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you.

“Please…” It was a sad, desperate plea. He just had to feel you once tonight.

This time, you didn’t hesitate to spread your legs for him, using one hand to pull your panties to the side and the other to rub him through your folds. You were absolutely soaked. A whine fell from both your lips as Jungkook resisted every urge to fuck into you. 

He could probably cum just from this again if you kept this up.

You didn’t tease him for long, seeing his expression growing increasingly impatient. You couldn’t wait any longer either, as you took it upon yourself to guide his tip to your dripping hole. 

You sighed in relief as Jungkook finally took control and slowly sank himself further into you. The more you took, the more you could have screamed, the fit filling you up in all the right places.

How much you wanted him to just destroy you…

Jungkook wanted to do just that, but the sweet sting of overstimulation made his worked-up length that much more sensitive to a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. His eyes stung from the tears, and he felt drunk off the warmth of your walls wrapping around him, almost pleading to milk him of anything he had left. 

Too fast, and he knew you’d do just that.

He waited, as much as his body didn’t want to, but he wanted to try and make things right this time. He wanted to make you feel good too.

Soft sighs of pleasure escaped you, but you still tried to focus your mouth on his neck— gently sucking on a spot where he quickly found out was surprisingly sensitive. 

“Fuck…” He groaned. This was all new to him, and he wanted more.

“Y/n… can I move?” Jungkook rushed out. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind.

“Please…” You begged, just as desperate. 

Your plea was all he needed for him to slowly pull his hips out before shakily pushing back in. An embarrassing series of whines left his mouth in the process, not at all thinking about how loud he was anymore.

Tears spilled out of his eyes as the slick sounds started to fill his office. It was overwhelming in the best way possible. This was worse than his first time, he felt like a virgin all over again as he moved through your sopping heat, he wasn’t going to last long at all. 

Jungkook immediately had to focus on not cumming again, feeling the edge approaching so quickly, but he had to make you feel good this time.

His pace was a little awkward at first; he was too eager at times to feel you, making him fumble his rhythm, but he was quick at getting back in the groove of things. 

“Jungkook—“ You moaned out, your legs wrapping around his waist so he wouldn’t go far. You just needed him close, as close as he could get.

Fuck, how long has it been? Were you really this desperate? 

You clung onto him tightly, hearing his pretty whines with each glide of his hips. 

If you thought about it too much right now, you might come back down to the reality of the consequences of your actions. Weren’t you both about to leave just moments ago? But you didn’t think about it, you honestly couldn’t think about it as his cock glided past that spot that made you see stars. 

Fuck.

You both reveled in the pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin and the subtle sounds of the creaking of his desk anytime he’d push inside you. Random objects would get knocked off occasionally as he pushed you further onto the desk, but neither of you cared, too focused on chasing a high that was quickly approaching.

Your hand ran through his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation, while the other was down his back, your manicured nails dragging across the white fabric that you knew would probably leave a mark. 

Your moans nearly drowned out his own,, but you both seemingly didn’t care about the fact that you were in public. 

Jungkook’s mind was filled with nothing but white-hot need, your hands on his body, it had never been like this, it had never felt like this. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself except fuck into you as quickly as his body would let him, any second spent apart was too long, needing to stay buried in your warmth.

You were fucking touching him— someone— touch— fuck.

“C-c-close!” Jungkook rushed out suddenly. He hurriedly wrapped his arm around your back and lifted your thigh so he could fuck into you even deeper. He just couldn’t get enough. Why did this feel so good?!

Jungkook wanted to delay it as much as he could so you would feel good too, but then your lips were on his neck and suddenly he had no self-control.

Still so sensitive from his last orgasm, fresh tears spilled from his eyes as he felt himself speeding toward the edge.

“Can I��“ He wanted to ask for permission, but at this point, he feared a no wouldn’t even be enough. 

“It’s okay… let go for me.” Your voice, always so sweet as you focused on running your fingers through his hair. It felt so good, so good that he wanted to cry right there in your arms. He could have, if that feeling hadn’t finally spilled over into another embarrassing whine.

“I’m sorry— so sorry, sorry, I’m—“

His rhythm turned frantic, then got sloppy, chasing, and chasing, till he buried his face in your shoulder as he came again, ropes and ropes of cum filling you up. It was hard to believe he came just minutes ago.

He sounded like he was crying again, maybe he was, but the pleasure overtook any realization of his surroundings. Jungkook’s moans turned silent, his voice too hoarse for anything louder. He wanted to scream, just wave after wave of pleasure hit him as he steadily thrusted into you. You were so nice, you always were, as you gently kissed his neck and rubbed his back.

You knew he needed it, you could feel the tears across your neck and the way he lightly shook in your arms. 

It had never been that intense before; a full minute passed and he was still getting hit with the shakes as another wave would hit. 

It was so good, so good, but he wasn’t satisfied just yet. 

Jungkook eventually found the strength to pull himself slightly away from your shoulder. Your kind eyes looked at him with so much concern, that he hardly gave you any time to process before he was kissing you again. It was a slow, sensual kiss, and his hand came up to cup your cheek so that he could have you just a little closer. A brief moment of calm, a second to settle your beating hearts.

It was at that moment, without you noticing, Jungkook slid his hand in between your bodies. You didn’t realize it until you felt his fingers on your clit, earning an immediate gasp out of you. Jungkook hummed lightly before kissing down your neck. 

You were so sensitive and so close already… 

“Cum for me…” Jungkook whispered across your skin. 

You will, you wanted to so badly.

“Jungkook—“

His fingers quickly picked up the pace, and you cried out for him. Jungkook could feel you tightening around his cock, spent, but greedy for more, as he started slowly thrusting into you once more. 

He groaned. You felt so good— it just didn’t make sense.

This was about you though, and he had to make you feel just as good as you had made him. Jungkook relished in the way you clung onto him as your orgasm grew nearer. You were so close, he could feel it. 

His fingers were skilled, so skilled you hardly had time to process before you came face to face with the edge you craved more than anything at that moment. 

“Please— please, fuck, fuck, please!” You cried, and Jungkook nearly did too at how tightly you were squeezing him. Overstimulation, two orgasms, and the pain mixed with pleasure, had him speeding to his third. But this was all about you, and he pulled away to watch your expression as you fell apart.

Jungkook almost didn’t feel worthy as he watched your eyes roll back, and your moans and pleas turned into one big sigh of relief as your orgasm washed over you. You gripped him hard, and you had him crying out with you, cumming for the third time today.

It probably was a little over a minute since his last one, and he didn’t have much to give, but you made sure to milk him of everything he had left, and he loved it.

You, this, everything, it was so good. 

Jungkook, through the haziness of it all, helped you both through it, his hips steadily rocking into you, and his fingers still at work until you whined at the overstimulation.

Jungkook quickly pulled you in for another kiss. It was lazy, you both were exhausted at this point, but Jungkook craved the affection more than ever as the rush, the heat, burn, and desire started to settle down. All that was left in its wake was the startling realization of what you both had just done. 

The wetness began to pool in between you, his body ached, the guilt was beginning to wash over him, and the treacherous reality he ran from was back.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook eventually found the strength to pull out of you. It hurt physically speaking, but it was even worse mentally. He didn’t want to leave, not with how warm and wet you were around him. It took everything in him to slowly but surely leave your warm embrace, a pained whine falling from his lips, before he took a step back. 

Your hooded eyes stared at him as you breathed heavily. He was probably doing the same, but he could hardly pay attention as he stared at his mess: 

Your lipstick was heavily smeared, your hair disheveled, your legs still spread with your skirt bunched up around your waist, your stockings had runs all over them, and your panties he’d pulled to the side were back in place but soaked with a mix of both of your juices.

Jungkook wanted to feel ashamed; he should, he had ruined you, but your fucked out expression only made a startling realization come over him. He liked seeing you like this, and it made the flame that had started to quell, spark once again.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right. 

Jungkook should feel guilty right now. Not only had he ruined his marriage, you were also now caught up in his mess. Instead, all that resided as you both calmed down, was a startling numbness. 

He should feel guilty, but it was so fucking horrible how much he enjoyed it. This was a relief Jungkook had never known could come from sex. He was spent, exhausted, yet craved more all at the same time. 

But he really did feel bad, seeing you like this, and Yuri… however, that’s not what his mind could focus on. As horrible as it was, he felt… good.

Jungkook gently helped you off his desk. Your knees were a little wobbly, but he held onto you tightly as he guided you over to the couch. 

You silently thanked him and watched as he went to grab your coat and shoes, which had dropped to the floor during the commotion. As soon as he handed it to you, he then kindly went over to pack up your laptop for you and grab the bottle of wine.

It was sweet, too sweet almost, considering what the fuck just happened.

You and Jungkook… you and Jungkook?

This was the same Jungkook you hated until about a month ago. This was the same Jungkook who had made your life at work hell for nearly two years. This was the same Jungkook that was married. 

You started to put on your stuff, Jungkook picked up all things that had fallen off his desk, before he had his own coat and scarf in hand, and he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. You were quickly reminded how you found yourself in this situation as he practically collapsed. A pained sigh left his lips and his hands were tangled in his hair once again. 

You quickly scooted over. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” Jungkook cried, his sad eyes only looking at you for a second before his hair was in the way again. 

This… this is precisely why. Something about the look in his eyes, the pain in his voice, it was too much, and you wanted to do anything to fix that. 

You let your arm wrap around him. “You want to talk about it?” Your voice, soft and gentle as always. 

Jungkook didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly do at this point? It was really hitting him. He had done it, he truly had lost it.

His panic started getting to you as well, and you were realizing the mess you had just got yourself into. As concerned as you felt for Jungkook, you now were involved in an affair. His wife’s pictures that sat around his office felt like they were bearing into you, judging you for sleeping with her husband. How could you? Not only that, but this happened with your boss, at your job, who was fucking married.

The reason this happened in the first place was unknown, but what justification could there be for both of you? 

Jungkook tried his best to pull himself together as you both got up to begin your journey downstairs, but how could he go home now?

You both made a quick stop to the bathroom to clean yourselves up. 

You could hardly believe the sight you saw in the mirror. You finally saw the glorious mess Jungkook had made of you, your cheeks warmed at the sight the fluorescent lights granted you. You were a mess…

You tried to quickly cover up the evidence of your misdeed. You wiped your shirt and skirt so the stains wouldn’t be so noticeable, and with the brush you kept in your purse, you tried to smooth your hair down and style it so that it covered the marks across your neck. You then tried to make your clothes sit the way they did before you walked into his office earlier, tucking your top in and smoothing out your skirt.

You wiped down your face, and with a quick reapplication of your makeup, you were as good as new again— well, as new as you needed to be at nearly 1:30 in the morning.

Despite having more to do, you were left waiting outside the bathrooms on Jungkook for a little while. 

He’d walked in and the sight he saw in the mirror was equally as alluring as it was horrendous. His face was red and puffy, and his hair was sticking up in every direction. But the way your lipstick covered his face… his lips were smeared with it, just like yours had been. It was all over his cheeks, even his neck had red stains, and seeing that had him feeling funny all over again.

Jungkook was ashamed that he looked past it all, and enjoyed the way your lipstick painted his skin.

He nearly had another breakdown at the realization, and he had to give himself a pep talk to come out of the bathroom and face you again. His thoughts were quickly spiraling, and he felt himself getting jittery again. It was the same way he felt in Dr. Min’s office, the same way that would plague him occasionally, and he was stuck alone for hours trying to get himself together to face the world again. He probably would have collapsed and locked himself in the bathroom if you weren’t waiting on him.

He likely came out looking worse than he did coming in. Your lipstick was gone, but he had been stuck inside trying to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling from his eyes.

Eventually, you both made your way to the elevators.

Jungkook had offered to drive you home considering how late it was. You probably would have said no considering the situation, but you didn’t really think about how you would get home beforehand. You honestly didn’t think you’d be here this long, but you also knew Taehyung would have no issue coming to pick you up. 

He lived close by, and he’d been there many times before when the buses and subways were closed. Even at the oddest times of night, he always knew when you were out and would be there to get you. You would have called him, but considering you looked like a mess, surely Taehyung was bound to ask questions about what happened during your evening with the boss. That was the last thing you needed, keeping as few people involved as possible was the better option. Plus, he had spent the night partying, and you doubted if he was available or even sober enough to drive you.

Jungkook it was then.

Things were noticeably awkward between you two. As you both waited for the elevator, a notable distance separated you two, and a painful silence settled in the air.

“You never answered my question earlier…” Things felt different now. The further you walked from the sanctuary of his office, the more real it became. You honestly wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened. You both stepped inside and Jungkook hit the button down to the garage. 

What could he say?

“What excuse could I give?” Jungkook sounded distraught and you started feeling bad once again. 

“I mean… I don’t mean to impose, but considering what happened… you just don’t seem fine.” You spoke sincerely, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook leaned against the elevator wall, and with the lights shining down on his face, you could clearly see the wetness staining his cheeks. 

There was a moment of silence as your statement lingered in the air, but eventually Jungkook worked up the courage to say something, anything really, he owed you that much at least. 

“It's an arranged marriage.” Jungkook's voice was still hoarse, and a tear rolled down his cheek as the words left his mouth. He really hated telling people.

You were visibly shocked at this, eyes widening as his words processed in your mind. You thought it was weird he was married, but you didn’t think arranged marriages happened anymore, especially here. Even if they did, that didn’t matter, he was still so young. 

“It’s been hard over the years… really, really hard, but that doesn’t excuse anything.” Jungkook was vague, however it was still something. 

As you both stepped out of the elevator, into the short hallway, and out the parking garage, Jungkook offered once again to get your clothes professionally cleaned or replaced if that’s what you preferred, when he still noticed the stain on your skirt under the light. 

You thanked him, but you didn’t want to be indebted to him. Instead, you said you’d handle it yourself.

Plus, now you can call it even.

It was awkward again as he pushed open the door and you both walked to his car. It was one of the only ones down here, but who else would own a Mercedes?

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t… I’m sorry…” Jungkook was lying through his teeth. He wished he wasn’t, but as bad as he felt, no one had ever made him feel that good before.

“Look.” You stopped in your tracks, making him stop with you.

“You obviously seem to be going through a lot, I get that. But Jungkook, I don't want to be involved in this.” You were serious as you spoke. 

“That’s your business. Tonight did not happen. Tomorrow we���ll come into work like none of this happened. You won’t ever need to worry about me telling anyone. This was a fluke, a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened. I trust you’ll do the same. That’s as simple as it needs to be.” You seemed mad, and as much as you were right, Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his chest tightened at your words.

A fluke, a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened. It hurt so much for some reason, but you were right in the end.

Jungkook just nodded, knowing he would have a breakdown if he tried to say anything. But what could he say anyway? You were right.

You both steadily made it to his car, a sleek, black, 2022 Mercedes AMG GT 53 4-door Coupe. This was his personal car, not the fancy SUV his driver would always take him around in, but whenever Jungkook worked late nights like this, he’d normally drive himself to work and give Dae-Jung the day off.

You tried not to show how impressed you were as you got in. It really was a nice car with the pretty LED lights dimly illuminating the matching black interior. Then the sound it made as he started it up, and with one hand on the wheel, he pulled out of the underground garage…

If things were different, this definitely would have easily made you fold— a good looking guy driving a sexy car was a thing you knew you had, but this was a married man who you just had an affair with.

Now was certainly not the time.

The ride was silent, aside from when Jungkook asked for your apartment’s address. What else was there to say really?

You were mad. You wanted to put all the blame on Jungkook for getting you involved with this mess, but it takes two to tango as they say. You never stopped him when he pulled you close and you didn’t want to. You were just as mad at him as you were at yourself.

You knew he was married, yet you kept going, you wanted more, and relished when he finally filled you up. And his eyes, he seemed so sad, you wanted to do anything to make him feel better. 

As Jungkook drove you home, a new look seemed to settle behind his gaze. Before he seemed like he was constantly at the point of breaking, but now it was nothingness, lifelessness, a void contained in his dark orbs. 

Were you too harsh earlier? That’s the way it had to be though, this had to be a mistake you would never acknowledge at any point going forward. But maybe there was a better way to say it. Something clearly wasn’t right, and you were still concerned at the end of the day.

The late hour offered minimal traffic so you were pulling up to your apartment building just a little over twenty minutes later.

You were quick to grab your stuff and push open the door to get out, but not without a glance at the man beside you whose hair almost entirely shielded his gaze. His hands on the steering wheel were tight and he never once looked at you. 

“Jungkook…” That gentle tone was back and he finally looked at you.

He seemed dazed almost. 

“You should probably talk to someone. You seem to be going through a lot, and even though you were vague with me, someone out there will listen to you. Not going to lie, I’m a little worried… you remind me so much of a friend who went through a lot and… It might really help talking to a professional.” You held that same look of concern you had right before he kissed you.

It was so bad, he wanted to do it again.

Jungkook felt his cheeks warm at the thought, remembering how it felt to have your lips against his.

He weakly tried to laugh it off. “You aren’t the first person who’s said that.” 

“You might really benefit from it. I suggest trying it out.” 

Jungkook nodded. The last time he attempted therapy it didn’t go so well, but then again, he had only gone twice. 

You gave him a weak smile before you swung your bag over your shoulder and started walking toward the entrance. Jungkook stayed until he made sure you made it inside, and then he was driving off. 

His head was empty as he drove down the road, no tears, no pain, no anything. Instead, he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier, it had never felt like that before, not once had it felt like that before.

Your hands, your lips, your body, your our skirt bunched up around your waist, your thigh-highs, that lacy black bra you had on underneath, your smeared lipstick. It replayed in his head over and over again. By the time Jungkook made it home it was going on three. He was tired, his body ached, his mind spent, but there was only one thing he could focus on as he punched in the code to the door. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised when he opened the door to find the apartment, dark, empty, and he was alone, like always. Yuri had texted him right before you walked in his office that the shoot was in fact running long and she wouldn’t be home until early in the morning. It was almost a relief that she wasn’t here. He didn’t know what he would have done if she was, but the silence was painful. Silence let his mind wander off too much, and in the silence the realization of his actions hit him once again. 

Jungkook’s eyes started to blur as he looked at the pictures that were sprinkled around the apartment of the two of them. He felt terrible, but not like how he should have.

This was actually his worst nightmare, he had turned his marriage from one that could have posed as real as any other, into that fake shit his parents put up with. Jungkook had turned into the person he detested the most, and there was nothing he could do to come back from it. He should feel terrible, so fucking terrible. He should prepare to get on his knees and beg for Yuri’s forgiveness, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. He had been such a terrible husband over the years and the one thing he thought he’d never betray was the fact he was faithful and he’d always try his best to make their relationship work.

What now? Had he just given up? Jungkook wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to do worse, he wanted to make it hurt, but instead, he just sank down against the door.

All he could think about was you and how good it felt. Was it just because he was so sensitive? It really had been so long, but it had never been like that before. Never, not even in the memory he held so closely— Yuri and him in the hot tub at the Maldives. It had never felt like that.

Jungkook should feel guilty, and he did, but only because he didn’t feel bad. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, your hands, your lips, you, you, you.

Despite the fiasco in his office, the ride over with him and his stupid fucking mind that wouldn’t shut up, had his cock aching all over again. He was hard, and he wished so much you would have invited him upstairs so he could have stayed in your arms all night long. He would have said yes if you offered.

He wanted you so badly, but this wasn’t right. 

Jungkook wanted to fix this, he easily could have, the memories were vivid and he so badly wanted to feel good again. But the tears finally fell on his cheeks when he remembered Yuri and how disappointed she would be. He couldn't do that, he couldn't, he fucking couldn’t.

He was a disappointment, Yuri was right about everything. He was pathetic, his life couldn’t get any worse.

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[freakingholland]

freakingholland's batboys headcanons part 2

dates and love languages edition!

A/N: hi cuties, here's another portion of my headcanons, please let me know if you want more! And as always - please let me know what you think about those! Also a disclaimer - I think all languages of love would apply but I thought it would be more fun to focus on 2 per person. Additional info! I have a dc event going on so if you want to request something now is the perfect time - post here :) Stay whelmed xx

questions/ideas here! - rules here my wattpad archive is here my AO3 archive is here If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakinghollandmasterlist masterlist

Dick Grayson - quality time and acts of service

Loves going out on fancy dates, but his preferred dates are the stay-in ones. It’s more convenient and less energy-consuming but can be just as fun as being out and about.

He likes to order food, not because you both are too lazy to prepare it, but because it takes time. Sometimes it’s junk food, sometimes it’s proper meals from your favourite restaurant.

Most likely to bring home flowers just cause. Doesn’t matter if he’s running late from work, if he’s tired, absolute definition of if he wanted to he would!!!

Makes sure to buy plenty of snacks and drinks prior to the date night. Doesn’t spare money on food, dude’s got a proper appetite.

Usually wants to watch a movie, 90% of the time it just plays the role of a background noise (sometimes sleep just happens to take over entirely).

Loves catching up with you, likes to gossip as long as it’s not too derogatory.

Likes playing video games like it takes two, overcooked, stardew valley. Will watch youtube videos on games as well as streamers on twitch.

If the apartment is clean enough and you’re not expecting visitors he will propose doing a blanket tent. If your apartment could use cleaning then it’s a productive date aka cleaning night with music (beware he’ll deffo do a cartwheel in the living room).

Jason Todd - quality time and gifting

Jason loves going out on fancy dates. He likes the anticipation and more or less meticulous preparations for such dates. Genuinely enjoys watching you get ready and just chatting about everything and anything. Demands mirror pics before leaving.

It doesn’t matter what kind of entertainment you choose, he is willing to spend any money when it comes to having quality time together (not that other guys wouldn’t, it’s just Jason puts the most pressure on it). Cinema? Theatre? Going to a formal ball? Just tell him what you want to do (if you don’t he’ll make you talk).

If the date doesn’t extend to later-ish night time, he proposes the idea of making shopping stops along the way back home. His favorite stop Is definitely a book store (I know I know cliché but it’s fun to go to book stores isn’t it? Come on we’re all readers here! Doesn’t complain about going to drugstores or second-hands.

He has a favourite bakery with diabetic-friendly desserts (I hc Jay as a diabetic as I’ve mentioned here and here!). If you end up having a date at your own place he will bake something offbeat.

If you don’t feel like going out he will gladly snuggle with you and read a book. He just wants to be in the same room as you.

Have you seen that tiktok trend of eye-colored bracelets? Will buy materials for that and make them on a lazy night.

Tim Drake - quality time and physical touch

I feel like Tim is very much a fifty-fifty guy date types wise, totally depends on your energy levels. That aside he gives off major out-of-town weekend getaway type of vibes. 2 days off? Why not visit Paris?

He feels mentally supported by you and thus tends to plan little trips every couple of weeks to show his support. Sometimes it’s sightseeing in London for 3 days and sometimes it’s a trip to a hotel with a spa visit for an hour or two.

He realises how caught up and locked in with work he can be at times and feels guilty. When you go somewhere his devices are off (not entirely - for safety reasons).

Wants to hold hands every-freaking-where. If you’re not holding hands his palm is either on your thigh when sitting or draped over your shoulder. I don’t think you understand, he’s like a flypaper - I mean it!

If you end up having a date at home he would want to do some work here and there. Would need proper convincing to shove work aside – but it’s not impossible. It’s hard to resist snuggles with your partner when you’re hella tired.

Will whip out a board game for two. If it’s not strictly a date night will host a game night with the rest of the fam at your place.

[dovesdreaming]

Cluelessly yours

This picture is making me so hungry

Summary: You’re crushing on Deadpool but he’s hopelessly oblivious to all your hints. You just have to come out and openly say it.

Request

Masterlist

-

You didn’t know how it had happened, but somewhere between the late-night takeout runs and the endless banter, you’d developed a crush on Wade Wilson. Sure, he wasn’t the textbook definition of “Prince Charming” what with the mercenary lifestyle, endless stream of sarcasm, and tendency to get a little too enthusiastic about explosions but there was something about him. Maybe it was his humor, his weirdly thoughtful moments, or the way he’d show up at your place with your favorite snacks after a rough day. Whatever it was, you were hopelessly crushing on him.

There was just one problem: Wade was completely oblivious. You sat on the couch in your apartment, flipping through a magazine but not really reading it, waiting for Wade to show up like he said he would. He had promised to bring pizza and hang out after his "super-secret, definitely-not-a-date-with-death" mission today, and as usual, you found yourself thinking about how to finally tell him how you felt. But every time you tried to be a little flirty, a little more obvious, he’d just… miss it. Or worse, take it as a joke and deflect with some ridiculous comment.

The sound of the front door slamming open yanked you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Wade, in full Deadpool gear, standing in the doorway holding a pizza box over his head like a trophy. “Guess who’s back from a successful slaughter fest?” he announced. “That’s right, it’s me. And I brought pizza! I figured you’d want to carbo-load after a long day of being awesome”. You smiled, grateful that he was always so... thoughtful, in his own Wade-ish way. “Thanks, Wade. You’re the best”. He tossed the pizza box onto the coffee table and plopped down on the couch beside you, stretching his legs out with a satisfied sigh. "Well, I know that. But keep saying it, I never get tired of hearing it”. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the small grin that spread across your face. Wade had that effect on you, no matter how chaotic your day was, he always managed to make you laugh. And even though he had no idea you liked him, he was always so nice to you. Thoughtful, in his own ridiculous way.

Wade nudged you playfully with his elbow. “Soooo, whatcha been up to, gorgeous? Miss me while I was off doing my superhero-slash-homicidal thing?” Your heart skipped a beat at the casual compliment. You glanced at him, trying to play it cool, though you felt heat rising in your cheeks. “Maybe I did” you teased. “Who else is going to bring me pizza and call me ‘gorgeous’?” Wade laughed, grabbing a slice of pizza. “Well, good thing I’ve got you covered on both fronts! Pizza and compliments? I’m your guy”. He took a big bite, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Seriously, though, you could do way better than a burnt chimichanga like me”. You blinked, surprised by the casual self-deprecation in his voice. “I don’t think so” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Wade, predictably, didn’t catch the weight behind your words. “Pfft, you’re just being nice” he said, leaning back and tossing his feet up onto the coffee table. “But that’s why you’re awesome. Always so nice to ol’ Wade”. You felt a twinge of frustration. He really was clueless. How could he not see it? How could he not realize that you wanted to be nice to him, to be around him, because you liked him? You sighed, setting your magazine aside. Maybe it was time to push the envelope just a little more. If he didn’t get it after this, then maybe he really was a lost cause. “So, Wade” you began, turning slightly to face him. “Do you ever… I don’t know, think about dating?” Wade raised an eyebrow behind his mask, looking genuinely confused. “Dating? Me? Babe, look at this face”. He gestured to his mask, clearly referring to the scars beneath. “I’m not exactly prime boyfriend material. Most people would run screaming in the opposite direction”. You frowned, your heart clenching at his words. “That’s not true” you said firmly. “You’re funny, caring… you’re way more than just your appearance”.

Wade blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden seriousness. “Uh… thanks?” He scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure how to take the compliment. You hesitated, your heart pounding. This was your moment either he got it, or he didn’t.“What if I told you…” You took a breath, feeling the words catch in your throat. “That someone… really liked you? That someone… I thought you’d be great boyfriend material?” Wade froze, pizza slice halfway to his mouth, staring at you with wide eyes. There was a long, awkward pause before he finally responded, voice hesitant. “Wait… are you saying… you like me?” You bit your lip, nodding. “Yeah, Wade. I do”. He sat there, still holding the pizza slice, completely silent for what felt like an eternity. Your heart sank a little, thinking you’d misread everything, that maybe he wasn’t interested in you that way at all.

Then, finally, Wade snapped out of it. “Wait. Hold the chimichangas. You, you- gorgeous, smart, amazing you- like me? Like, in the 'I wanna kiss your weird, scarred face' kinda way?” You felt your cheeks flush, but you nodded again, trying to keep from laughing at the way he phrased it. “Yes, Wade. I like you”. Wade blinked, then dropped the pizza slice back into the box, turning to face you fully. “Holy crap. You’re serious”“Completely”. He stared at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable under the mask. Then, without warning, he let out a loud, exaggerated gasp and clutched his chest dramatically. “Oh my god! How did I not see this?!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top reaction, the tension in the room instantly melting. “Because you’re oblivious, Wade. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks”.

“Weeks?!” Wade slapped his forehead. “And I missed it all? Wow, I’m worse than I thought. My obliviousness is like a superpower all on its own. Should I put that on my résumé?” You laughed again, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Wade might’ve been oblivious, but at least now he knew. And from the look on his face- or at least, what you could see of it- it wasn’t a bad thing. “So…” Wade leaned forward slightly, his usual cocky grin creeping back. “Does this mean I can ask you on a date? Or do I need to wait for more obvious hints next time?” You smirked. “Wade, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for weeks. You don’t need any more hints”.

His grin widened beneath the mask, and he reached out, grabbing your hand in his gloved one. “Well then, in that case, how about we make this pizza party an official date? You, me, Dogpool- candlelight, bad rom-coms, and excessive snuggling?” You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “That sounds perfect”. Wade squeezed your hand, his voice dropping to a soft, genuine tone. “Hey, thanks for liking me. Scars and all. You’re… you’re pretty damn great, you know that?” You leaned in, your smile warm as you looked at him. “You’re pretty great too, Wade”.

[gladiatorcunt]

- APOLLO REACHES FOR THE SEA | V.

under my skin’s an intrinsic shrine

cw: kinktober prompt (s) - scent & food play, canon typical obsessive behavior, anankin & reader are both 20, reader has a pussy, more suggestive, friends to lovers, drunk-ish sex, unprotected sex, implied angst of the series’s canon events, aotc!era but pre actual aotc events, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Ani, watch out! You’re going to spill the plums!” You giggle, ushering him in the quarters you share with your Master Shaak Ti.

It’s late at night, a rare day without missions as you both get closer to knighthood. So Anakin had casually suggested swiping some food from the food stalls in the city and having a sleepover, just like old times. You’d known each other since he had come to the temple 12 years ago, and you can admit that you’ve been missing the hours you used to waste away laughing and dreaming of your futures as Jedi Masters. You had bonded over wanting to help people and become powerful enough to stop tragedy from happening, he’s whispered things to you that he fears Obi-Wan Kenobi would flay him alive for.

He’s the only one that knows anything about your family, what you ran to the Jedi Order from. You’re not allowed to have personal belongings from that time of your life, but you slipped a good luck charm in the folds of Anakin’s tunic on your 14th birthday and pecked his lips before darting off to your sparring session with your Master.

Perhaps it’s a panic response, clinging to these brief silver linings when you can sense his force signature darkening. Anakin does what you wish you could, deep down, how can you judge his heart when it’s other half aches in your chest?

“You think too little of me, Scyva.” Ani grins, balancing the tray in the crook of his arm as he follows you to your room.

Scyva, because that’s what an edgy prepubescent you had insisted on if he was going to call you a name derived from the Old Gods. In truth, it made you terribly shy that he wanted to call you Aivela, that he still does after he gives you the bare minimum of saying the name you wanted first.

“Well,” he had ‘hmph’ed back then, “Then I’ll be Izax, because that’s Scyva’s husband.”

So simple, so assured, like it was the most obvious declaration in the world to make. Playing house with forces beyond your understanding in their clothes.

Your cheeks warm as you recall the memory, you close your door hoping that Masters Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan will be delayed more than you thought.

Anakin had also managed to finesse a couple of cups of Jawa Juice from Dex’s Diner, “Master’s a good friend of his, but he won’t rat us out.”

Both of those cups are gone and empty within minutes, the pair of you doped up on the sizzling connection between you. This unbreakable bond that formed all those years ago, it’s like all your pains and troubles fade away when you’re near Anakin. He’s told you the same, with an imploring look in his doe eyes, begging you without words to understand what that must mean. Why you two are so clearly meant for each other.

He’s the chosen one, he teased you when you were 15 and had lost round after round to him in training, the force wouldn’t want it’s son to be without a chosen one of his own.

You were 16 and learning how to swim together, you had forgotten how but Anakin held you up in the water like he had been doing it all his life. You pecked his lips again then too, that’s all you ever did, the farthest you went. To do more would be to open up durasteel gates that would flood Coruscant in sparks and wet wires.

You shrug off the outer layers of your tunic, plopping down on your bed and sighing, “I could never think more of you if I tried, Ani.”

Give Anakin Skywalker a pearl and he’ll turn it into a Greater Krayt Dragon.

His seemingly stuck grin widens and he clamors onto the bed to lie right beside you, “Yeah? Typical of my biggest fan.”

Your arms brush together and a sudden jolt of fire burns down your throat.

You roll your eyes, picking up a plum and biting into it, ignoring the bob of Anakin’s adam’s apple and the flash of arousal in the force.

You don’t know why, but you make eye contact as you finish the piece of fruit, making an extra effort to lick some of the purplish-red juice off your bottom lip.

Anakin shuffles closer and reaches out to rub away what you missed with his thumb. Your breath hitches, the air in the room is shifting to something you can’t even say you didn’t anticipate or secretly wish for. Ani’s always so warm, every part of him, and the comfort his coarse finger tip brings to your often bitten lip lights a candle in your soul.

Neither of you say anything as he brings his other closer to your hip, his fingers ghosting along the curve like he’s afraid to touch you, that you’ll disappear if he lets himself buy into the delusion that he can have something so sacred. Anakin Skywalker doesn’t buy, he gets bought, but every teasing moment over the years does some serious damage to a 20 year old guy’s psyche. Maybe you should think of it like sparring, you can’t improve without throwing yourself into the fray.

The kiss he plants on you isn’t anywhere close to one of your previous “friendly” pecks, it’s ravenous. He’s enthusiastic, moving to sink his thumbs into the divots under your jaw so he can tilt your head up. He moans into it too, heady and smug with every caress of your lips and every wet pop signaling you pulling away to breathe or change your position.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Aivela.” Anakin hisses, eagerly yanking the rest of your robes off in between more kisses and briefly separating to toss them unceremoniously on the floor.

You moan, sliding your hands up his bare back and pulling at hair that’s not quite long enough to tug like you want to, “So do you, Ani, force-”

He cuts you off by snaking his tongue in your mouth, cleaning your teeth from the dark mess of the plum juice, which only stains you both even further. His arousal in the force grows and you can feel his dick twitch against your hip, the bond tells you that he loves being messy with you, that it feels right to be this real and uninhibited with each other. To be this raw.

“You ruin me, you know that? I’m trying so hard to be perfect. For you, for Obi-Wan, for the council, for my mom.”

It’s easy at this moment, with this boy, to be damningly honest. “ You’re already perfect to me, Ani, there’s nothing about you I would change.”

You’ll always love the 9 year old boy who became your first friend, and you became his, every version of him after that only fleshes him out and waters the underestimated sapling into a massive tree with nonflammable roots.

Anakin shudders when you say he’s perfect, the feeling of being indulged and complimented by a friend who he’s spent countless nights jerking off to, muffling his whines and groans into his pillow so Obi-Wan doesn’t suspect anything. But knowing his master, he probably already knows and is discussing it with your master right now.

You pick up on his train of thought, “You don’t have to be so paranoid, Ani. You don’t know for sure that anything bad is going to happen.”

He nods and shrugs it off, storing that opportunity to spiral away for later. You exclaim in surprise as he dives in to kiss you again. The kisses are hotter now, heavy and sloppy with intention. Anakin waves a hand around trying to find the tray of plums without breaking away from you, he eventually fumbles onto it and yanks it to push into your hip.

You pull back in confusion, but Anakin smiles and pushes you to fall on your back with his hand splayed out across your chest.

He takes a plum and bites off half of it, leaning down to share it with you as he crushes the other half above your body, honing in on the squelching sound and passing you bits of the plum from his tongue to yours.

“I’ve had dreams of a goddess of love on a lonely planet in the future, a god too, and they look just. like. you.” He draws back and punctuates each word with a swipe of his tongue through the plum juice on your ribs.

You hear more than see the sniff he takes of your skin, deep lung fulls of the fruity hints in your natural musk. He humps into the mattress and his cock twitches, your belly clenches when he flicks droplets of sweat off of you, the pink in his bunny tongue winking up at you in the low light.

You relax against your pillows and run a hand over his hair as he busies himself with drinking the plum juice off your body like body shots. You bask in his pulsing force signature and the tantalizing sight of your best friend Ani humping his gorgeous cock on the chub gathered on your lower stomach.

You feed him more plums, moaning as he slurps at your fingers and sucks them clean, wrapping his lips around them down to the knuckle. A bright yellow thank you rings out in the force. He’s messy on purpose, letting bits fall out of his mouth onto your tummy, just so he can take another hit off your skin and clean the juice up. He licks long flat stripes up your soft stomach, making sure you're watching as he moans and swallows down every drop.

Anakin’s pupils are twin black holes, and he actually smiles when the teasing gets to be too much to handle and you send out your desire for him to move downwards into the force. His teeth are almost sharp in this lightning, your breaths are shallow and he scrapes them over the top of your mound.

“Smells amazing.” He moans and tries to press a kiss to each little hair he finds. “ ‘s gonna be way better than some fuckin’ plums. Love you so much, Scyva, Nahut..”

Goddess of sorrow, you don’t know how you bring him to his knees.

God of apathy, hated by all but the other part of you, there’s something dark unfurling in you too.

Your half heart skips a beat. It’s probably just the Jawa Juice, you reason, even though Anakin jumps out of speeders more often than not and is so damn reckless he can handle a cup of fermented grains. You yourself feel buzzed, pleasantly tipsy in a way that only enhances the sensation of physical touch.

“You trust me?” Ani asks, long fingers poised to slip into your hole, he won’t give in until you learn to use your words.

No more beating around bush, instead more busting the fuck through that thing.

“You’re the only one I trust.”

The force flares around you, endlessly pleased.

He returns to sucking the juice off your skin as he dips two of his fingers inside at once. Sue him for being impatient, but he’s getting everything he’s ever wanted right now. By what the force is telling him, so are you. You gasp at the little sting, but you let your legs go lax against the sheets, spreading yourself wider for him.

Anakin takes a second to gawk in awe at the view, your wet hole clinging to his fingers as he slowly pumps them deeper into you. You’re both so glad he didn’t beg Dex for more Jawa Juice, there’s no way you can run from this memory forever. He picks up his dry humping, whimpering as his precum falls on your favorite blanket.

He tosses his head back to stare into your eyes and grinds against your tummy like his dick is where his fingers are. You’re nodding, making the cutest little hiccups and tensing your thighs, resisting the urge to squeeze them around his arm. Anakin chuckles as he feeds you the other two fingers, imagine how wide your entrance would stretch around his entire fist.

Your pussy flutters around his fingers and he hunches his back to be able to kiss your clit hello, taking a whiff of that too before suckling. You keen and he takes his mouth off of you, massaging your slick into his golden skin.

He moans and drives his tip further into your plush curves, circling his thumb on your clit until you both tumble over the edge. It’s not a mind shattering orgasm for either of you, too little stimulation and too pliant from the booze, but that’s okay. That won’t be the only time you’ll cum tonight, and this time it’ll feel so good the force rebuilds itself around the two of you, Anakin will do his very best to blame going in raw on intoxication.

That’s what you’ll blame for clawing at his ass and hooking your heels into his back to keep all of him inside of you, like the force itself won’t let him pull out to sleep. You’ll figure out what to do in the morning. But for now, Anakin is grabbing your hand and leading you into the fresher.

The plum tray clatters to the floor.