#i still like some books and the future books sound pretty good

[bamgyw]

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the second night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the spiritualization of sensuality is called love: it is a great triumph over christianity. - friedrich nietzsche

warnings: +18 getting hornier. pillow,, humping,, heh. a tiny bit of voyeurism as well? fingering. and a lot of male yearning we love that, we love a desperate man. a/n: team we made it to the smut. the hand kissing bit is kind of victorian. jane austen, even. but. i don't care. i’m not 100% happy with the outcome so it might get a little edited in the (distant) future, but nothing fundamental. this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here

"i am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses."

beomgyu stumbled upon that quote within the pages of a stolen copy of a book by nietzsche. he had always found himself more drawn to the destructive lunacies of clinically depressed germans than to the saving grace of the holy scriptures. there was no self-pitying in the bible, no self-indulgent sorrow to hold on to.

he had found that book, thus spoke zarathustra, in soobin's room, tossed in the trash. it looked almost new, so he took it out of curiosity.

"why are you throwing this away?" beomgyu asked.

soobin shrugged. "it's a good read if you're a happy person," he said. "but if you're miserable, it'll rot your brain. more spiritual talk and petty self-help in there than in the bible."

but beomgyu quietly took the book without soobin noticing, and he carried it in his back pocket ever since.

he had no intention of reading it from cover to cover, but sometimes he would flip absentmindedly through the pages, fixating on some passages. and that one specifically had reminded him of you. his new meaning. the rose he found in the darkness.

during the day, beomgyu usually roamed aimlessly around the town, drifting along with the rhythms of his headphones. that was pretty much the sum of his daily human activity since he quit college.

it was all he knew how to do, and often felt like all he was good for.

as he walked through the town, the familiar sounds of honking cars, distant sirens, and murmuring conversations mixed with the music in his headphones. the air was thick with the scent of seawater and the faint, sour smell of industry. it was a crummy town, sordid. each step felt heavy, purposeless, leading him nowhere.

he had a few favorite spots he liked to hang around - the port where the boats came in, or the grimy industrial estate where the addicts gathered. they all knew his dad pretty well. and maybe if they knew beomgyu was the son of the man who supplied them with their shit, they'd treat him better. but that's a secret he kept to himself.

instead, he joined in on their petty fights, easily swayed by whatever side fit his mood that day. he was better at fighting than them, but the victory was hollow. he was younger, his body was not rotten –not completely– and he had full motor control over his limbs. but he got pleasure from winning, anyway. he liked to exert some control over someone else for once. 

still, that day he didn't walk to any of his usual spots. he had been feeling a sorrow less violent, an ominous need for silence. his feet, barely in conversation with his brain, dragged him to the town's small church.

he had never really stopped at the church before, just passed by without giving it much thought. but now, standing there, he realized it was probably the most beautiful building in town.

every other construction felt fake, in plastic and plasterboard, but the wooden church had been crafted by the artisan hands of a carpenter and build up by a community. it seemed to be lovingly nursed, too. though the church meant little to him, it was obviously fundamental to others.

when lost and adrift, beomgyu would wander, getting into fights and ruining himself. but under similarly pitiable conditions, others came to the chapel like it was a second home, sometimes safer than their own. beomgyu wished he had something like that, too.

the building was small, but cute. surrounded by a little forest of old camellia trees, its walls painted a crisp white. it was an old building, but it was thoroughly taken care of. the air was different, cleaner, carrying the earthy scent of the camelliae and the faint fragrance of blooming flowers.

beomgyu liked how the wooden cross crowned the roof, marking the building, never allowing anyone to go astray. it must feel good, he thought, to have some guidance like that when you don't know where to go. a flower in the desert, a light in the darkness.

he knew he was being stupid and overemotional. he had never believed in all this religious stuff, and he never would. his relationship with god, if there even was one, was mostly based in resentment. if god was real, he could've treated him better.

and still, he didn't dare to enter the chapel out of some reverential respect he didn't even know he was capable of. so he just stood there, staring at the chapel, feeling small.

he took a deep breath. his cheek still burned where you had kissed him the night before. he really was going out of his mind.

"i want her so bad. and i think she might want me too." he prayed. to the church, to its wood, to the camellia trees, to the sky –he didn't know, he didn't care. "please let me be with her. please don't hurt her because of it, or shame her, or kick her out or whatever it is you do with sinners. i promise it’s not a bad thing. it’s so much purer than you think." he said.

no one answered, of course. there was just silence. some ruffling of the leaves because of the breeze, maybe the trebling chirp of a bird, but no answer. he felt like an idiot.

praying sucked, he ratified. how could you even make sure you were being listened to? it was emotional manipulation, playing with one's hope. feeling down and disappointed, he left.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

entering soobin’s house again would have felt like torture, were it not for the certainty that you lived there, too.

soobin never really left the house. he only went out to go to class in the mornings, and he still chose to skip as many as he could. not because he wasn't a good student, he was disturbingly accomplished. he just disliked the people.

every day, soobin locked himself in his room and studied relentlessly. he was determined to make something of himself and leave his stepfather’s house behind. he had a plan. beomgyu didn’t know the details of this plan—soobin never shared it, fearing it might be jinxed if spoken aloud—but it was clear that soobin believed hard work could get him out of that miserable house.

beomgyu thought that rhetoric too optimistic, alienated from reality. but still, he had some admiration for him. unlike beomgyu, who wallowed in his own misery instead of changing his situation, soobin searched for solutions.

beomgyu sometimes found him too sickly and rancorous, but he still looked up to him for his willpower. not that he would ever admit that to soobin.

so when beomgyu got to the house, certain that soobin would be there, he gave him a call. it was a code they had. soobin leaned out of his bedroom window, and threw down the keys for beomgyu to catch so that he could make his way in. 

as beomgyu climbed the creaky wooden stairs, he realised that the usual thrill and allure of sneaking around that house he had felt at night was dimmed in the daylight. he hated the smell of that place, too. the air inside was stuffy, filled with the faint scent of old wood and something slightly medicinal.

as he reached the top floor on his way to soobin’s room, he passed by a closed door. pristine surface, painted white. he knew immediately. a pink mother-of-pearl crucifix hung on the wood.

he stood in front of it, his heart quickening. inside that room lived his little bird, trapped in an evil cage. his angel, his obsession. he gladly would’ve shattered the door with his own hands. let his knuckles bleed, let the splintered wood stab into his fingers. he just wanted to take you away and set you free.

at first he maintained a cautionary distance. he feared that if he got any closer, he would actually do it. but then he saw the little plaque under the cross, in sterling silver, shining when the light hit it. he approached to read what it said.

"the lord is faithful. he will establish you and guard you against the evil one." it said.

beomgyu scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. like some metal plaque could protect her, he thought. he's the only dangerous thing in her life. that superstitious fool.

he found it bitterly amusing, to the point of feeding his ego. some cultures hang garlic on the doors to keep away the vampires and the witches. your daddy had hanged a nacre cross to keep choi beomgyu away from you.

he let his hand reach for the crucifix. he traced his fingers over it, middle and index. all the doors had a crucifix of their own, but yours was the only one that wasn't a choppy piece of wood, crude and utilitarian. his thoughts wandered as his fingers brushed over the cool, smooth surface. he must be aware of how pretty she is, beomgyu thought.

as he did, a noise startled him. he jolted away from the door, retreating as far as he could. only when he saw it was just soobin coming out of his room did he catch his breath.

“you were taking too long,” soobin said, his expression gloomy. “i didn’t like it.”

“you care for me that much?” beomgyu asked, a bitter grin spreading across his face as he walked up to him, hands in his pockets.

"well, i let you into my house, didn't i?" he asked, accusative.

"you did." beomgyu replied. “it's not versailles, but it’s cute. lots of quirky decorations.” he shrugged, poking at the crucifix that hanged on soobin’s door, tilting it slightly. "it's like a theme park."

"eveything’s a joke to you." soobin replied. he seemed distrusting, his chest filled with something he probably shouldn't say. but he did, anyway. “you need to forget about her."

“what are you talking about?” beomgyu raised his tone, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes, quickly masked by anger.

“i know you. you’re going to let your impulsiveness ruin everything for all of us. it won’t end well.” soobin said. “she's not like one of those girls you used to pick up at private schools. if you want to manipulate your way into someone's pants, choose someone else.”

beomgyu’s anger flared. how dared he imply those were his intentions? how dared he assume he had any other purpose than caring for his angel and godsend grace?

he took a violent step towards soobin, who flinched slightly but held his ground. “you think i’m dorian gray or some shit?” beomgyu retorted. “you're just pressed because i'm not a pussy like you, restraining yourself to please that maniac. but whatever happens, it won’t be because i forced myself on anyone."

“she doesn’t know what she wants." soobin said. "she’s confused and love deprived.”

“and you’re a patronising asshole,” beomgyu snapped back. "who are you to say anything?"

“you’re playing with fire. if you wanna be a psychotic masochist, fine. but don’t drag others into your mess. get yourself hurt if you want, but leave us out of it.”

“us?" beomgyu asked with a wicked grin. "she's an adult. she can make her own choices. and if your stepdad wants to mess with her because of it, it´ll be over my fucking dead body."

“is this how you repay me for letting you stay in my house?” soobin asked, a mix of hurt and frustration in his eyes.

“thing is," beomgyu began with a cynical laugh. "this isn’t about you. you shouldn’t be this bothered,” he said. “and if you are, maybe you should check yourself and see if you’re acting like your stepfather.”

soobin’s knuckles turned white, but he took a deep breath and held it in. “just. don’t do it." he said through gritted teeth. "it’s not worth it.”

but beomgyu grinned wickedly. he had one last bombshell, one last thing to get soobin fuming. “i’ll let you know if it's worth it or not when i have your sister go dumb on my cock.” he said, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction.

he shouldn't have said it.

instead of getting angry, as he had intended to accomplish, soobin smirked, too. it was unsettling. beomgyu got a ghostly feeling about it.  "what is it?" he spat out.

soobin inclined his head slightly towards the room with the mother-of-pearl cross—the room of his little bird. beomgyu turned just in time to catch a sliver of a prying eye, peeking through a barely open door. your eye widened when it met beomgyu’s gaze, then you vanished, the door slamming shut.

shit. beomgyu's heart raced, his breath hitching.

soobin smiled, a hint of triumph in his eyes. "consider her warned."

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

late at night, thoughts of you consumed beomgyu’s mind. he knew he had fucked up. he knew that now you probably thought he was a creep and never wanted to see him again. his mind raced, replaying the words he wished he could take back.

he could’ve played his cards right. go slow, ease you into it. but he wasn't that sure now. the uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his insides with each passing thought.

soobin's room felt even stuffier than the night before, the air heavy and oppressive. the walls seemed to close in on him, making it hard to breathe. the need to see you pressed down on his chest, but lingering doubt kept him glued to the mattress.

a lone fly buzzed around, its annoying droning echoing through the room and fraying his nerves. each pass it made seemed to grow louder, amplifying his sense of confinement, maddening him.

his mind wouldn't shut up about you. you had struck him as someone who knew how to watch your back. he recalled how cautious you had been around him the previous night, like a dog used to being beaten flinches at the sight of a stick. but your eyes had never left his. not for a second. they seemed innocent, but not naive.

he liked that, he thought. that you were like him, smartened up by your environment. but he liked the innocence too, so much. an untouched you, drowning in chasteness and self-restrain.

uncaressed belly, uncaressed thighs, uncaressed sweet pussy. he could make you feel so good. that was all he could offer, all he could give you. he had nothing else.

he knew he should let the thought go. that he should start wrapping his mind around forgetting about you. but it was late, and he was tired, and the only picture that lingered in his mind was a pearl choker and a rosary over a tender neck.

with soobin's steady breathing beside him, perhaps even asleep, beomgyu lay staring at the ceiling. images of you fluttered behind his closed eyelids, all imaginations of his lovesick mind. illicit, probably, but fated.

he thought of your pretty lips whispering praises meant for him, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, the curve of his neck. he wanted to know the taste of your mouth, the softness of your touch.

had you even been kissed yet? with a father as twisted as yours, it seemed unlikely. beomgyu wanted you to never have been kissed. he wanted to teach you how to do it himself. eat your mouth out, nibble at your lips and press them gently. but not hurt you. that was new. 

he would start slow, so that you’d want more of him. then he'd deepen the kiss, his grip on you tight, giving into whatever you asked for, never letting you go hungry. the tingling started, the blood pumping.

pause. he thought as soon as he became aware that he was getting hard. his rational mind tried to assert control, to rein in his desires. you loser, just by thinking of kissing. be cold-minded. a voice told him. actions have consequences. 

the voice sounded a little like him, but it was surely an imposter. if it wasn't impulsive and hot-blooded, then it wasn't choi beomgyu. 

"i just want to apologise." he lied to himself as he sat up all of the sudden.

he slipped out of bed, his bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. he moved slowly, mindful of the creaking floorboards that threatened to betray his movements.

but a subtle rustle, not caused by him, echoed in the quiet room. the soft shuffle of fabric against skin. soobin was awake, and he had wanted to let him know. but beomgyu couldn't begin to care.

as he closed the door behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible, a sudden thud reverberated through the silence. "shit!" he cursed under his breath. another door in that corridor slammed shut with a resounding roar.

someone left a window open. air currents cause noise, beomgyu mused as he made his way down the dimly lit corridor, his steps quickening with purpose. tomorrow night, he thought, he would make sure all windows were closed before going to bed.

as he travelled the shadowy corridor, he got a chill. he kept hearing the ruffling of fabric, a doorknob twisting, steps against the wooden floor. a shiver went down his spine, but he told himself to forget about. it was all in his head.

he refused to let the silent threat your daddy stop him from seeing you. that liar, that imposter, that self-proclaimed god keeping everyone hostage in his castle of authoritarianism and indoctrination.

when he got to your door, the mother-of-pearl crucifix halted him like a policeman. it seemed more commanding now than it had earlier. it was stupid, he thought, how the night enhanced every feeling. 

the cross regarded him and he regarded the cross. “i just want to apologise,” he told jesus christ. “i said something stupid earlier today, and i wanna make better.” he tried to convince him.

it was just a symbolic plea. a desperate attempt to absolve himself of guilt, to make him feel less lustful, less like a pig. to find redemption in the eyes of a higher power. 

he thought about what soobin had said, about god, about your father, about right and wrong. maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought. maybe he was loosing the game and they were all making him go insane for good.

he debated whether to just turn back after the thought came to him that you didn't even want him there, anyway. how could you want him at all, after just one meeting where all he received was rejection?

sure, he got a quick kiss in the end, but it didn't outweigh the pulling away, the uncertainty, the avoidance. what was he worth, really? nothing. not even worth enduring a scolding from your dad, let alone the weight of guilt. he was making a fool of himself. better leave now before anyone got hurt for nothing.

but as he turned to walk away, his heart heavy and ready to toss aside, he heard a noise from inside the room.

a whimper. it was so faint he was sure his febrile mind had made it up. that he was so schizophrenically in lust he had made you escape that sound in his brain. a whimper. a sweet soft whimper. 

he tried to make sense of it by convincing himself that he heard you crying. he even allowed his sense of self-importance to fuel thoughts of bursting into the room and offering you his shoulder to cry on. to cuddle you, to comfort you.

but when he heard it the second time, his breath caught. this time it was a moan, unless his yearning mind was deceiving him. he pressed his ear to the door. he clearly heard a trail of soft muffled moans. restrained, but just so lewd to his feverish self. his face burned, his cock twitched.

index and middle finger reached slowly for the doorknob. they brushed over it, hesitating. maybe it was locked. and maybe that was for the better. the hand wrapped around it, twisted it slightly. it was open.

holding his breath almost to asphyxiation and in the most silent motion he had ever performed, he peaked in. 

god existed, he found out. his mouth went dry. like a bird in the clouds, surrounded by snowy plush blankets, he saw his little dove making herself feel so good against her pillow.

facing away from him, your legs draped on each side of it. your hips swayed, heavy and slow, as you tried to suppress the soft whimpers your throat escaped.

beomgyu pressed his lips together, teeth sinking into his lower lip until almost drawing blood. the messy nightdress, one delicate strap slipping off your shoulder. how the the silken fabric fell over your ass, not letting him see but inviting him to find out.

he wanted to see your doll face twisting in pleasure so desperately. to have you take in his cock and use him to fuck yourself so sweetly like that. only one door was stopping him. the door with the pink mother-of-pearl crucifix.

as though hypnotised, he quietly entered the room.

but when the door closed behind him with a click, you whirled around, eyes wide and breath catching in your throat. he froze in panic, too, as he saw how frightened you seemed. what the fuck were you expecting, you disgusting perv? came in the voice in his head.

your instinct was to retreat like a scared spider, flitting towards the head of your bed. fluffy white pillows framed your trembling body, with only a glimpse of your leg peeking out. your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, almost to an unhealthy degree, as you tried to cover yourself.

beomgyu took a cautious step forward, his obsession with you feeling safe in his presence outweighing how turned on he was. "please," he whispered, desperation in his voice. "don't be embarrassed." he said. or be. you're so adorable, all flustered like this.

"i… i'm sorry," you stuttered, your words hesitant.

beomgyu raised his eyebrow, an endeared chuckle escaping his lips. "you're sorry?"

"i shouldn't have… i…" you struggled, avoiding his gaze and pressing your hands to your head in frustration. anxiously, you began to hit your head with the heels of your hands. "i'm so pathetic."

without hesitation, beomgyu rushed closer, wrapping his hands around your wrists in the world’s softest handcuffs. "not at all," he murmured softly, his voice soothing as he attempted to coax your frightened gaze to meet his own.

quietly, almost reverently, he knelt at the edge of the bed, perching himself over the mattress like a praying supplicant.

he was so fucking hard, his blood boiling inside his pulsating veins. scorchingly, painfully. his hands trembled a bit on your wrists as he struggled to contain himself, like the scorpion resisting the urge to sting the frog and drown them both.

“i loved seeing you like that.” he managed out, eyes fixated on yours. “i’m the pathetic one, i sneaked in here like some creep. i... i'm so sorry about what i said earlier today. i was mad at soobin, trying to get under his skin. but i'm kinder than that. i can be, for you. you shouldn’t be scared of me. please.” 

"i’m not." you said.

"good," he said. "i want you to trust me."

"i think... i think i do."

beomgyu took one of your hands, already entwined with his, and raised it to his lips, planting a delicate kiss on the back. you didn't pull away, though a slight flinch ran through you. his voice, soft and concerned, cut through the quiet, "is this alright?"

you met his gaze, his eyes looking up at you dilated and pleading like a puppy's. you nodded silently, allowing him to continue.

he pressed his lips against your skin a few more times, the wet sounds his mouth made filling the room. with a heavy breath, you took in every detail of his gentle kisses—the way his plump lips pressed and nibbled at your skin, how slow, almost ritualistically.

"what were you thinking about?" he asked, his voice a muffled purr against your skin.

"w-what?" you stammered, trying to buy time as your mind raced to come up with a lie less embarrassing than the truth.

"you were so pretty like that just now, all spread out like a good girl...” he murmured softly, "tell me what got you like that."

you stalled. with an achingly slow movement, you mirrored his action. you brought his hand to your mouth, and brushed your lips over it. barely touched, almost imperceptibly.

a shiver down his spine. a sting to his heart. he watched you in awed stillness, his watering mouth half-open. then you whispered, "you."

"fuck, i– i want to do so many things to you. if you'll let me." he said. a blush crept across your cheeks as you instinctively tried to shy away, but his fingers beneath your chin guided you back to meet his gaze. "what did i do to get you like that? was it because of what you heard me say?" he asked.

"because of everything." you replied.

he moved up from the floor with deliberate slowness, each motion purposeful as if he were approaching a skittish forest creature, determined not to scare it away. cautious, he inched closer, finally settling beside you on the bed. "tell me." he said. "i wanna hear."

"you're smarter than daddy," you began to say, your voice mumbled, as you gazed at him, his features so close you could count the flecks of gold in his eyes. "daddy thinks he's god's chosen one, but you keep outplaying him. so what does that make you?"

"a hellhound," he replied with a cynical smile, drawing even nearer.

"no," you said softly, shaking your head in disagreement. "you're good. and you're sweet to me." with tender care, you brushed his bangs, your fingertips delicately tracing the contours of his face like a child exploring a new toy. you lingered over his brows, his long lashes, the graceful curve of his cupid's bow, and the strong line of his jaw. "and you're… really pretty."

an impulse like a mighty wave of devotion pushed beomgyu to cup your face, his thumb tracing delicate lines over your skin as he asked, voice barely more than a whisper, "have you ever been kissed?"

"yes." you nodded. though there was a flicker of fear in your eye, like he would've been disappointed at that lack of purity. but if he did, he said nothing.

"show me how you do it." he urged, his words a gentle plea as he drew closer, his breath mingling with yours.

you leaned in painfully still, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. but just before your lips met, you paused. hesitated. this changed everything. but beomgyu met your gaze unwaveringly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or doubt. then, with a soft smile, he encouraged you forward.

you brushed your lips against his, ever so slightly. it was a trembling little touch. chaste. when you pulled away, beomgyu's eyes remained fixed on you, half closed and drunk in longing.

he gently pivoted the hand that had cupped your face, trailing its back along the curve of your cheekbone to finally rest it at the nape of your neck. "so pretty," he whispered. "why are you so scared?"

"i don't want to disappoint you," you mumbled softly.

beomgyu's response was immediate, a fervent shake of his head. "never," he insisted, his voice a husky plea, "you're doing so well. please, kiss me again."

with trembling fingers, you reached up to his neck, your heartbeat a wild rhythm in your chest. you nestled his upper lip within yours. a little more intensely this time, but still experimental, like you were gingerly trying to color within the lines.

beomgyu was gone. you were so soft and plush and just so scared to do anything wrong. he lingered, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "they're mine now," he said in a low growl.

he took over, giving you a deep wet kiss. unrestrained, heavy like a lion’s roar. as you moved your lips together, beomgyu demanded more and more, leaving you breathless. one of his hands rested on your thigh, tentatively stroking, fondling over the skin, as if to soothe you, to tell you everything was alright.

he tilted his head, seeking depth in your mouth. one of your hands traced up the length of his chest and reached his neck, which you squeezed tightly as you felt his mouth opening yours to let his tongue in. you tensed. he noticed. “do you like that?” he asked, breath heavy.

“i... yes."

and so he did it again. another painfully lusty kiss that left your lips soaked and swollen. you escaped a moan that he loved so desperately, making him bite on your lower lip, drawing another embarrassingly whiny whimper out of you. after a softer peck, he outlined the bitten skin with his tongue.

he devoured your lips again, eating out your mouth. he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to circle yours, playing with it; then he pulled back, as if urging you to follow him. he wanted you to try yourself.

his hand on your thigh moved to embrace your waist, fingers poking into your skin. you felt firm, secure. in the middle of the unbridled kiss, your tongue ended up in his mouth. so soft. my good little girl. he let out a grunt of satisfaction. happy with his reaction, your instinct got you to hold on to him tighter, trying to find a closeness that was impossible in that position.

he got frustrated at it, too, his groans turning into hummed pleading moans against your lips. for a painful second, he pulled away to say, "let me watch you fuck yourself, just like you were when i came in. please." he said. "would you be comfortable with that?" he asked. 

you nodded slightly, though you weren't even sure you were telling the truth. they were irreconcilable, avoiding embarrassment and giving in to the aching sensation in your pussy the moment he spoke those words.

he stretched his arm out toward the pillow, gently offering it to you, observing as you knelt on the bed and retook the position he had found you in. he helped you through it, caring for you with caresses and soft kisses, but he went back to seat at the edge of the mattress, gnawing lightly on his lip with anticipation. you didn't want that, you realised. you wanted him close.

you reached out your hand for him to grasp, "what is it, baby?" he asked, tending to you with gravity.

you guided him towards you, maneuvering him to recline half-seated against the bedhead. he caught on to your intentions and leaned in to give you a gentle peck before allowing his hands to settle on your hips, helping you in adjusting the pillow beneath you.

now on all fours, with him facing you, he noticed you wanted to say something, the words lingering on your lips. "is everything alright?" he asked, his hand tenderly caressing your arm.

you stammered a bit before shyly asking, “can you keep on kissing me?”

he smiled fondly. he would never in a million years be able say no to you. “of course, my angel.”

he drew nearer, his proximity warming you up. having him there like that, you didn't need to support yourself on your arms- instead, you found yourself instinctively clinging to his neck. with a mellow kiss and his hands firmly securing their hold on your hips, he led the start of the back and forward motion.

the first reactions the rubbing of your clit against the fabric drew out were subdued, mere soft moans and gentle breaths mingling with his the plush of beomgyu’s lips. but with his grasp pressing you down, those initial movements evolved into more intense and profound ones.

he let one of his hands abandon your hips to entwine his fingers in the strands of your hair. the louder your moans got, the tighter his grip on it. he was so hard, with no escape for it. but he liked the pain, the desperation. "you sound so beautiful, fuck–" he breathed out. "but i'm gonna feel so much better than that."

the promise echoed in your mind, getting you to let out a crying plead, "p-please, beomgyu..." you moaned out, as you fumbled with your hand to find his.

"you want me to help you out?" he asked, almost like it was a privilege.

"mhm," you whimpered with a sheepish, frantic nods.

"cute." he breathed out. his face was flushed and burning hot, his cock ached uncomfortably, but he spartanly focused on his little angel’s pleasure above anything else.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and took you to his lap, where he held you tight. "are you comfortable like this?" he asked, placing a a soft peck to your forehead.

"yes." you answered, embarrassingly. you were wet to the point of dampening your inners thighs, and you were mortified to have him see, to even stain him. but he'd notice soon enough.

he grunted as he kept on kissing down your face. your temples, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, your ridiculously tasty lips. he held on to your waist for dear life with one of his arms, but allowed the other to travel down, slowly and deviantly towards your virgin pussy.

"you're soaked, my baby." he breathed out. you would've felt self-conscious at the exposure, but you saw in his eyes how bad he liked it. how starved and aroused he seemed when he began to caress your wet cunt with his slender fingers.

his cold touch startled you at first, making you hold on to his neck tighter. you were too sore, too sensitive. "don't be scared. i'm gonna take such good care of you," he said. "i promise."

tentatively, he stroked over the surrounding area of your aching centre, index and middle finger touching softly over your wetness. he performed circling motions in your clit, taking his time. getting to hear you. “b-beomgyu, you—god—you feel really good…”

he learned that when you liked something he did, you'd shower him in desperate soft pecks, like a puppy licks your hand after you pat its head. he wanted to see you react further, he wanted to try it all. he spread your pussy with both fingers and pressed forcefully against your throbbing clit with a third one. startled, you clutched his hair so firmly you feared you might have hurt him.

as by instinct, your thighs twitched from the overstimulation and seemed to want to close around his hand, but he didn't let them. he shushed into your lips with a soft "shhh," soothing as the seashore before leaning in for a honeyed kiss. he traced patterns against your cheek with his nose after pulling away. "its alright. you're doing so fucking well."

he let you catch your breath, but not for too long. he quickened his pace, your moans getting too loud, wept out and filthy enough to horrify all the saints in the house of god. it became a duel of you trying to suppress yourself and keep it quiet, and beomgyu trying to get everyone in the house to know how good he was for you.

to restrain the growing sound of your moaning, you buried your face into beomgyu’s neck, trying to muffle your voice against his body. but he huffed into your ear, "don't hold back. only you and me matter, no one else."

"i think i–" you whimpered into his ear, choking on your own puffs. the pleasure crept up on you, becoming too strong to bear and making your whole body shudder against his. "beomgyu, please..." you cried out.

he saw how close you were, and quickly thought if he should or should not stop it. tease you, edge you, have you go on all night. he could do so many things, he ached so much to do them all. but as he saw your pretty face so desperate to cum, how needy and palpitating, you were, he decided he had all the time in the world.

his movements quickened, each motion filled with urgency and strength. his veiny, strained forearm bore the weight of the world as he got you to your peak.

you came with a stifled cry but you muted your voice against his neck again. he wished he could've heard it in its full, piercing clarity, but he understood. you were so sheepish, his perfect little girl.

he didn't pull his hand away immediately, instead letting you feel his warmth for a little longer as you trembled against his chest. "my baby, you did so well," he whispered into your ear, his voice a soothing balm as he gently cradled your body.

now that the tension had drained from your limbs, you found yourself collapsing against him, your body limpy and worn out. it was then that you noticed the bulge in his pants. "beomgyu…" you murmured, your voice heavy. "teach me how to help you out."

"forget about me," he replied with a gentle smile. "i just wanted to get you to trust me tonight. to show you how good i can make you feel." 

you gazed at him, cherishing his handsome features. his cheeks were flushed, too, and his eyes so gentle. you couldn't help but cup his face in your hands, drawn to him. but as you leaned in to kiss him, he stopped you faintly, saying, "wait. don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to, so you'll be excited to see me again tomorrow."

"you'll come back tomorrow?" you asked, your eyes lighting up with hope.

“i couldn’t stay away even if i wanted to,” he replied. but as he said it, he noticed a flicker of guilt crossing your face. gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from your reddened cheek. "how are you feeling?" he asked softly.

your gaze darkened slightly. "like i shouldn't have done it," you admitted. "like daddy saw everything."

"i'm… sorry," beomgyu said, his voice full of consternation.

"no, it's not your fault. those thoughts aren't real. i can make the guilt go away, in time," you reassured him. "but i like it when you hold me. that's real. i… like you. a lot, i think."

beomgyu didn't even know what to say. he struggled to understand how this could be wrong to any human religion or faith since the dawn of time, because to him this felt like heaven. he held you in his arms, all flushed and a little tired, your lips swollen like ripe cherries from the kisses he had given you. this was fucking nirvana for all he cared.

he deeply regretted his no-kissing rule, and he sought to end it immediately. he leaned in, but you stopped him.

"no," you chuckled, "don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to so that you're excited to come back tomorrow."

he smiled back at you, like an absolute fool. maybe he was in love, even if it only had been a day, whatever. but how could he not be when he had the cutest being in existence all to himself? "give me a gift before i go, then," he said. "something i can carry with me.

"what do you want?" you asked.

"this," he said, pointing at your rosary beads. with a gesture that felt almost ceremonial, you took off the pendant and placed it around his neck. as you did, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips. "can’t i kiss you just a little?" he pouted.

you shook your head with a soft giggle. "your rules," you reminded him. "be stronger."

“fine. have it your way.”

he smiled, but it quickly vanished as you remembered him; “you should go. or soobin will know.”

he nodded, eyes filled with disappointment. the moment you lifted yourself off his lap, detached yourself off of him, an intense wave of pain surged through both of you. like a limb had been atrociously ripped off your body.

but just as he was about to leave, you grabbed his wrist, halting him. “beomgyu, wait,” you called out, rising to your knees to meet his gaze.

you pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek, just as you had done the night before. the softness of your touch sent a shiver down his spine. as you pulled back, beomgyu instinctively leaned forward, craving more. but you placed your index finger against his lips, stopping him. “you’re so weak,” you teased with a playful glint in your eyes.

he smiled ruefully. “i am,” he admitted with a sigh, the weight of reality settling back in. he really had to leave. “good night,” he murmured.

stepping out into the dark, the world felt colder, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness. he lingered for a moment, leaning his back against the door, not wanting to leave just yet, but his head bumped against something.

of course.

he turned around to regard the crucifix, holding the one you had given him in his hands. same color, same material. a bittersweet smile played on his lips. “she was so good,” he told jesus christ. “and i think i made her happier, just a little. i feel a little happier too. i told you, it was much purer than you think.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ so. i really struggled through this one. lemme know what you think.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

[bloodmoonmuses]

clover | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, friends to lovers, college au, fluff :)

wc: 2.3k

warnings: some swearing, mentions of alcohol

summary: mark collects four leaf clovers. when you help him find his hundredth clover, mark declares you his good luck charm.

If asked whether or not you believe in fate, you’d probably say no. You found the concept of it unnerving- a predetermined future that one must simply accept… How boring. What you believed in more was the butterfly effect- the chaos of it, the lack of control, the overlapping of timelines. The flapping of a butterfly’s wings could cause a hurricane. It’s the little things that have the biggest effect.

The first time you hang out with Mark Lee is per the forgetfulness of your best friend, Johnny. The three of you were supposed to meet for a group project, but it slipped his mind. You knew of Mark, of course, but never really hung outside of group settings. 

Mark is a butterfly- fluttering, social, beautiful and delicate. You wanted to pin and press his wings like a taxidermist, preserving their beauty in eternal serenity. Though most times, he felt too golden to pin down. He was simply meant to be free.

The two of you lie under a tree in the campus’ courtyard, skimming your textbook for more information. Mark sat quietly, plucking blades of grass out of the ground. When your vision blurs, signaling you’re no longer absorbing information, you close your textbook.

“Think he’s still coming?” Mark inquires.

“Nah. I texted him, but he hasn’t responded,” you say as you check your phone once more for confirmation.

“Hm,” Mark closes his textbook as well. “ Wanna call it a day?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Spring is well under way, but today is warmer than usual. It’s actually nice enough to be outside. You linger on your faded picnic blanket, lying on your back with your eyes closed, while Mark gathers his things. Sunlight filters through the leaves, making abstractly shaped shadows dance across your chest and stomach. You trace the warmth with your fingers.

“I can consolidate our research into a document if you want,” Mark pipes. You thought he had left already.

You crack open an eye. “We’re still talking about the project?”

He looks at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. “I mean, that’s what I’m here for.”

You crack a grin, scoffing at Mark’s eagerness to actually work. “Didn’t know you were such a goody-two-shoes.” 

“I’m not,” he contests, pouting slightly.

He’s so cute. You want to stuff him with fluff and tie a bow on his pretty head. No wonder everyone babies him so much. His eyes simply demand such.

“I’m just messing with you,” you say. “Sounds like a plan. I can make the slideshow, if you want.”

“Cool.”

Mark starts to leave before returning to his seat and asking, “Hey, ______. Why haven’t we hung out before?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. You have plenty of friends. Didn’t think you’d need more.”

You look at Mark, sitting criss-cross on the corner of your blanket. He has a pile of clovers on his leg, and he continues to sift through the grass in pursuit of more. He plucks another, identifying it as a four leaf clover, and places it on your belly.

“Looks like I just made another. It’s been weeks since I’ve found one.”

“A four leaf clover?” Your fingers play with the floweret, watching as it rises and falls with your breaths. Mark’s eyes follow the movement as well.

“Yeah, I collect them. You’re, like, my good luck charm now. Dude, it’s fate.”

“Do I get a say in the matter, dude, or does fate take precedence?” you joke, asking with a giggle.

Mark beams at you, eyes crinkling into half moons. “Wanna be my good luck charm?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Mark grabs his backpack, taking out a sheet of parchment paper and a book. Then, he takes the clover from you, placing it in between two sheets. Finally, he places the clover in the middle of the book. He closes it, giving the book a firm squeeze, and puts it back in his bag.

“Pressing it for later,” he says.

—

The second time you hang out with Mark Lee is per the drunkenness of your best friend, Johnny. You told yourself you’d stop going to parties with him. It seemed that every time you did, you were relegated to designated driver. So there you sat, on the stairs of the back porch, hoping Johnny would pass out in the next hour or so. However, you knew this wouldn’t happen any time soon. Johnny’s alcohol tolerance is annoyingly high. You decide to enjoy the fresh air regardless.

House parties this big were conducted for only one reason- to get everyone in attendance as fucked up as possible (and assuage their guilt in doing so with the presence of other fucked up people). A girl, a twig-like thing, does a keg stand in the middle of the backyard. She nearly topples over entirely, but manages to return to the ground upright before immediately dissolving into a heap of bones and flesh.

On your left, you watch a smarmy frat boy sidle up to another girl, caging her against the house. She’s drinking him up, flashing the most obvious “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen. On your right, a guy blows chunks into a bush. Such is the dichotomy of life. 

The back door of the house swings open and the music that’s blasting from inside temporarily bleeds into the backyard. When it closes, the sound is muffled, making you feel as though you’re underwater. You look up to see Mark, surprisingly. The two of you haven’t spoken since the group project. He sits next to you, muttering a brief hello. 

“Not your crowd?” he says, noticing the dissatisfaction on your face. 

“Johnny’s my crowd, but he’s hammered.”

Mark scoffs. “Sounds about right.”

You look at Mark. He seems mostly sober, save for the faint dusting of pink adorning his cheeks. “Are you drinking tonight?” you ask him.

Mark tips his beer towards you, taking another swig before saying, “Just the one. I have a paper to write tomorrow. You?”

“Designated driver.” You’ve been nursing a cup of lemonade. You feel like a prude.

“Daaaang.” He drags out the word, following it with a low whistle. “That sucks, dude.”

“Needed some fresh air?” you ask him.

“Nah, just wanted to catch up with my good luck charm. Saw you walking out." 

Your heart beats a bit faster, though you're not sure why. “Have I been doing a good job?”

“I get to be here outside with you instead of in that hellhole. So, I’d say yes.”

You end up driving Johnny and Mark home that night. Apparently, his designated driver (Jaemin) bailed on him. Mark sits in the passenger seat while Johnny is passed out in the back. It’s quiet, moonlight seeping into the car in a hazy glow. It illuminates Mark’s side profile and you sneak glances at him in your periphery. He’s visibly fighting off sleep, head lolling to the side then suddenly jerking to attention every few minutes.

When he does this a third time, you say, “You can sleep. We’re about ten minutes away.”

“Wanna make sure you’re safe,” murmurs Mark. His voice is gravelly, the sentence barely croaking out of him. “Don’t wanna leave you alone.”

“I’ll survive. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” With your permission, he drifts off to sleep, lips slightly parted. 

When you arrive at the boys’ dorm, Johnny stirs lightly as he feels the car has come to a stop. You shake Mark’s shoulder, waking him from his slumber.

You walk up to Mark’s room, the two of you lugging Johnny with much difficulty. He’s practically dead weight, wasted enough to the point of not being able to hold himself up. When you finally manage to get him on Mark’s couch, you’re winded. You sit on the floor while Mark sits next to Johnny. 

“The only thing comforting me right now is the fact that he’s gonna wake up with a horrible hangover.”

At this, Mark laughs, his own chest heaving at the physical exertion of transporting a Johnny-sized human.

“Thanks for helping me bring him up,” Mark says.

“No problem. Take a video of him suffering for me please.”

“Anything for my good luck charm. Speaking of…” Mark quickly retreats to his room, returning with a small wooden box in his hands. He places it in your lap.

You open the box to see it full of four leaf clovers encased in resin. He takes out a heart shaped one and hands it to you.

“This one is yours. The hundredth clover in my collection.”

“I’m honored.” You cradle the preserved clover in your hands, watching the light bounce off of its shiny surface. The moment overwhelms you, chest constricting with adoration of the simple gesture.

“I was thinking of making it into a bracelet. Then you can harness your lucky powers wherever you go. Like a superhero- or something like that.”

He smile at you, a toothy and boyish grin, and your inhibitions seem to melt away. Perhaps you could be persuaded into believing in fate. Making him happy in this way feels like destiny. You would do so forever if given the chance.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

—

The third time you hang out with Mark Lee, Johnny isn’t much of a factor. Then the fourth time, and the fifth, sixth and seventh- until one night, Mark asks you on a date. You think. You’re not really sure at this point. 

You’re at his apartment, something that occurs more often following the party incident, killing time with him and (of course) Johnny. The three of you are supposed to be having a movie night, but can’t agree on a film. In lieu of such, you’re simply arguing about movies.

“It’s ridiculous,” Johnny says.

You cross your arms. “It’s high art.”

“Do not refer to Twilight as ‘high art.’”

“The first one has an indie feel to it. The too-blue coloring grading? Imagine stumbling upon that at Sundance or South by Southwest. Those film bitches would be all over it if not for the negative connotation of pseudo vampire smut.”

“Never seen it,” Mark says. His comment gets drowned out, however, as you continue to rant at Johnny.

“The series only got bad because they gave the sequels to a male director.”

“That is not the only reason.”

Johnny’s phone rings. “It’s Jaehyun. Jaemin left him at a party.”

Johnny gathers his belongings and exits. He attempts something of a wink towards Mark, which is awkward because 1.) You see it, and 2.) It looks more like some dust flew into his eyes than a cheeky gesture.

“Be back in a bit,” Johnny says. 

“What was that about?” you ask. Mark is beet red. 

“Nothing,” Mark sputters. “So.”

“So…”

“Twilight. Movies. You like both of those things, right?” Mark rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, swinging his arm in tandem. He can’t really make eye contact with you, but he’s trying, blinking rapidly as his eyes flicker around the room. 

When the silence becomes unbearable you say, “Is there a reason you’re acting like we’ve never met before?”

“Just answer the question.” He sighs, face planting into his palm.

“I mean- Marginally. I mostly just like making Johnny angry-”

“Would you like to go to the movies with me?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

—

It’s raining. Mark is soaking wet, green hoodie soiled. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly with dripping wings, dejectedly fluttering in an attempt to dry itself off. Funnily, the sun was beaming brightly just a few hours ago. If you hadn’t checked the weather ahead of time, you’d probably be drenched as well. 

“Forgot my umbrella,” says Mark as he walks up to you.

“Clearly.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

“Guess I’m not as lucky as you thought.”

“Impossible.”

“Wanna just go back to your place?” you say as you pat his shoulder.  “Then you can get changed.”

You return to Mark’s apartment, making two cups of chamomile tea. When Mark exits his room, he sits on the couch. There’s enough room for at least three people in between the two of you. When you move to sit closer, Mark literally flinches.

His right hand is clasped tightly into a fist, quivering from the force with which Mark is holding it shut. 

“Okay Mark. What’s wrong?” You reach out to him, placing your hand on top of his closed one.

He averts your gaze. “I don’t know how I managed to fuck this up-”

“The rain is out of your control, Mark. It’s not a big deal.”

Then suddenly, Mark opens his hand to reveal your clover, still in its heart shaped encasing, but now attached to a bracelet just as he said he would. The butterflies in your stomach fly up to your sternum. Your breath hitches there.

“I had this whole thing planned. After the movie I was gonna drive you home and it was supposed to be this whole thing that led up to me giving you the bracelet under the moon but then it started-”

“Mark. It’s okay!” you say with a laugh.

“ I like you, ______. I was gonna tell you that I like you.” Mark shuts his eyes tightly, practically wincing with each word. 

You lean over to kiss his cheek, accidentally giving him a butterfly kiss as well when you linger there. Mark giggles at the contact of your eyelashes, and you feel his face move against your lips.

“Well, it’s a good thing I like you too.”

Eventually, Mark’s lips meet yours, gently kissing you as though you’ll break. Warmth spreads throughout your entire body and you pull Mark closer in pursuit of more. Mark places a final peck on your nose and pulls away. He grabs the clover bracelet and ties it to your wrist. 

“Lucky me,” Mark says.

a/n: unedited and feedback is always appreciated!

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 4 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!

♡ Rated: R for Regret

♡ 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: panic attack, lots of bad self-deprecating thoughts, repressed Jungkook makes an appearance once again, masturbation (m + f), use protection (!!!), public sex, oral (m + f receiving), koo is a bj virgin, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart!)

♡ Word Count: 37.9k

♡ 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: Liquor by Chris Brown— see masterlist for playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover 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: I started this thinking it was going to be one of the shortest chapters but 😀 Hehehehehe anyway, get cozy, get some snacks, maybe something nice and warm to drink as well, and enjoy my friends!

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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It was still too early for him; the sun was barely peeking over the skyline. Businesses were just beginning to flip their signs to open, the sounds of the city were growing louder by the minute— only a soft murmur in the restful city background, and daily menus were just now beginning to be set outside for the few passersby who were walking the streets this early morning. 

It was in these initial hours on the first day of November that Min Yoongi arrived at his office. He had an iced Americano firmly grasped in his hand despite the chilly temperature outside. He always preferred the drink in its cooler state, no matter the weather, to quickly wake him up in the morning. It worked enough to get him here, but never as much as he needed it to.

He yawned as the elevator slowly rode up to the floor his office resided on. He still had a few hours before his first appointment, but Yoongi always came early to do menial tasks like office bills or general prep work for appointments. He didn’t have too much to do today, but some important documents he’d been putting off were calling his name.

His eyes lazily drifted over to Secretary Kim’s desk, as they always did, ready to say a brisk “good morning” before heading into his office until the time neared his first appointment.  

Yoongi was so out of it this morning. He and Heran were up all night with their little Bora. They both figured more of her baby teeth were coming in and that’s what’s been making their daughter so fussy these days. Heran especially had been a little worried after their third all-nighter, but Yoongi was quick to notice the little bumps in her gums upon further inspection, indicating she was likely just teething. It had been a rough few nights, last night especially, but eventually he was able to get her to fall asleep in his arms after he let his wife go back to bed.  

He languidly glanced over at Secretary Kim ready to wave, but her wide eyes quickly caught his attention as she discreetly pointed toward the waiting area. He wasn’t expecting anyone this early but lo and behold was the man he hadn’t seen in seven months.

His big, round eyes were instantly recognizable as they stared up at him when he noticed Yoongi standing there. This was certainly unexpected. He definitely didn’t have Jeon Jungkook booked today.

“Mr. Jeon! What a surprise!” Yoongi smiled as he walked over to him. 

Jungkook stood up, and Yoongi took particular interest in the way he shakily shifted his weight from one side to the other. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Yoongi could immediately tell something was wrong. 

“Hi— I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly like this…” Yoongi could hear the strain in his voice. 

“No issue at all, my door is always open.” He smiled but Yoongi hoped he got the point. His door was always open, no matter what the issue might be.

“I— I um… I wanted to talk to you— and… I can come back later if you’re busy, but—” Jungkook seemed fidgety and could hardly look at the doctor, the floor seeming to hold his attention more than Yoongi’s concerned gaze. 

Alarm bells were going off in his head. Normally he didn’t take walk-ins like this, but when the circumstances seemed dire, like in today's case, someone’s well-being was always more important than anything else. Something clearly wasn’t right with him, and he still had a few more hours until his first appointment anyway. No harm in this at all.

Yoongi glanced over to his secretary and they both shared the same worried expression before he guided Jungkook toward the door to his office. 

It had been seven months since he’d seen him, but Yoongi could instantly tell Jungkook seemed different. As he turned on the lights in his office that fact became more clear. Since the time that they had last seen each other, Jungkook evidently looked more tired, the dark circles around his eyes were prominent, but he did a good job of hiding it in the way his hair had grown to hang lowly over his eyes. Yoongi also thought he seemed paler, like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and he could have sworn his round face had grown more gaunt as well. 

Yoongi had hoped that the couple’s absence after their last session meant that good things had come between them. Despite only having one session, he thought that maybe the glaring problems of their relationship had become apparent, and now that they were in the open, they had found themselves on a path to a happy and healthy relationship.

Yoongi wished this meeting had been a reunion of sorts, that Jungkook was coming to visit just to thank him for the session, or to simply catch up, or even just coming to ask for more advice in the long journey of building up their relationship. Any sort of sign, really, to indicate that they were working on the distressing issues in their marriage and that progress had been made in the seven months since they last saw each other.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s appearance alone was enough to show his optimism had been in vain. And to make matters even more concerning, as soon as Yoongi shut the door behind them, he watched Jungkook haphazardly stumble over and collapse on the couch.

Yoongi hurriedly joined him by his side, his worry soaring to even greater heights seeing Jungkook desperately tangle his fingers through his hair. His grip on the strands was so firm that Yoongi feared he’d pull out the tresses threaded in his grasp. Sitting this close now, he could smell that Jungkook had been drinking, probably excessively too. It wasn’t looking good; time had not been kind to him. If anything, things seemed worse.

His soft whimpers slowly began to fill the growing silence. 

“Jungkook…?” Yoongi asked gently as he placed a hand on his back. 

“I’m s—sorry… so sorry. I should have called befo—before I came, I’m so sorry.” If it wasn’t already evident in his voice, Yoongi could see his hands in his hair were shaking.

“Like I said before, my door is always open. Did something happen?” Yoongi was trying to be calm, but the memories of their last session came flooding back in a rush and his mind raced with the possibilities of what had made him so frantic.

The question just seemed to make things worse, and like in their last session, Yoongi feared Jungkook was on the verge of another panic attack. Jungkook’s sobs became louder and his breathing grew more shallow with each breath he took.  

“Deep breaths, take your time,” Yoongi reassured, gently rubbing circles on his back. Jungkook quickly seemed to listen and tried his best to focus on the doctor’s words.

“Yuri— I—” Jungkook finally released the death grip on his hair and leaned back on the couch, letting his tears flow down his cheeks. 

“I cheated on my wife last night.” It was like he had practiced saying this with how clear it was despite the shakiness in his voice. The statement seemed to linger in the air as Yoongi processed his words. He tried not to show his immediate shock at the statement. From what he could remember from the last time he spoke with Jungkook, this was a pretty big deal, which could explain the distress. 

“I wish I was coming here to— to tell you how bad I felt about doing it, but—” Jungkook’s lip started to quiver. “I was up all night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it— I should feel bad, I want to feel bad, but…” More tears rolled down his cheeks.

“It just felt so good.” 

The confession made it all too real as he looked at the doctor. It made him feel even more like a monster.

Jungkook had spent the night trying to make himself feel bad about his time with you. He’d wandered around the apartment looking at all the pictures littered on the tables and walls of him and Yuri, hoping that would spark fond feelings of their relationship. 

If someone visiting their apartment saw the plethora of photos they have sprinkled around the place, it would seem like the couple shared many memories together. But just like their entire relationship, it was merely an illusion. 

When they first moved in Yuri had taken on the majority of the work decorating their apartment. She had an eye for interior design. Aside from modeling, she was quite passionate and knowledgeable about the subject— it’s what she originally went to school for before she was scouted and modeling became her main priority. 

The place mainly reflected her taste, but she’d ask Jungkook his opinions occasionally on some of her ideas, and he was pretty easy-going, so he just let her have her fun. He also knew how much she enjoyed it, it was one of the things he’d learned on their honeymoon when she confessed her ambition to open her own business someday. It was important to her, and it honestly warmed his heart to see how passionate she was decorating their new home together.

Right before they officially moved in, Yuri had signed them up for a bunch of photo shoots to help fill in the relatively empty picture frames around the apartment. The only memories they had were of their wedding, honeymoon, and a couple of pictures from their dates before they were engaged. Memories, yes, but certainly not enough for a couple who decided to take a leap of faith and get married so young. 

Professional photoshoots with the photographer she shot with regularly were a weekly occurrence for about a month. Jungkook had cherished this time since he was still trying to process how uncomfortable things had become after they came back from their honeymoon. That was really the only time they would speak to each other and things weren’t awkward. 

Jungkook had hoped that just being in the apartment would remind him of his marriage and ignite the shame that he had just committed a horrible sin, one that could have gotten him killed a couple of centuries ago. And yet, as Jungkook stood there trying to reminisce about all of their fond memories, he was also trying his best to ignore the way his length pleaded for you all over again.

Pathetic… more than that really.

He’d finally grabbed a beer out of the fridge at some point, hoping at the very least he could stop thinking about you and maybe try and get some sleep before he needed to go to work in the morning. The beer didn’t help, it never did. Rather it made his guilt, or his lack thereof, echo even louder. 

Jungkook had looked to Dr. Min with the hope that he would be a voice of reason, a slap to the face to make him feel the mortification he should right now. 

Jungkook stared at the doctor, just waiting for the look of disgust he was hoping for. He wanted someone to tell him how insane he sounded, how much of a terrible person he was for it. Instead, he couldn’t read the look on the doctor’s face as the words started to process in his mind. It made him that much more anxious. He wanted an immediate reaction, he wanted Dr. Min to scream at him if he had to, but instead, he just looked off in the distance as he never once stopped his gentle massage across his back.

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Min finally asked after the silence started to linger for a little too long.

“I didn’t know— know it could feel that good.” Jungkook’s body instantly reacted to the mention of last night— this morning really. It hadn’t been that long. It was all so clear and got even more so the more he tried not to think about it.

“And what makes you say that?” Dr. Min repeated with a gentle smile on his face.

Jungkook was being vague. Yoongi had a feeling this was a common occurrence, but those details truly mattered right now. 

“You don’t have to get explicit, it's just— If I’m recounting correctly, I know the last time we spoke you mentioned that you didn’t have much experience besides Yuri. What was it like then, stepping outside of your relationship?” Yoongi clarified, noticing Jungkook seemed a little confused. 

Jungkook turned away as his mind traveled back to early this morning… you, your lips, your hands, your skirt bunched around your waist. 

“She touched me.” The words just slipped out of his mouth without much thought. “No one ever did that before.” At least the way you had. As delusional as it was, for a split second he felt wanted, like someone actually craved him as badly as he did for them. It was nonsense, Jungkook just happened to be blessed that night by your unwavering kindness even to someone as pathetic as him in a moment of weakness. But still, he knew something felt different about last night.  

Yoongi hummed, remembering that the topic had come up in their session. 

“To be honest… Now that I think about it, I never really enjoyed it that much beforehand.” Jungkook stared off into the distance, coming to a revelation that he was aware of but never fully articulated until now.

“Sex?” Yoongi put it bluntly, making Jungkook’s face flush slightly.

He shyly nodded.

“I thought I did. I liked it when she just acknowledged my existence, it would make my day. I wanted anything from her really, but I think when it came to being intimate it just made me feel…” A word bounced around in his head, a sour word he knew spoke true to his feelings whenever he was with Yuri, yet it never materialized enough to explain to the doctor. After a while Jungkook just sighed and gave up, deciding to continue. “I think I just wanted her close. I wanted Yuri to want me, and I feel like that’s when I felt it the most. I craved it so much that I bet I seemed pathetic, but even then, I don’t think I really enjoyed it— not in the same way at least.” Jungkook struggled to fully articulate what he was trying to say, and just hoped Dr. Min could get the picture.

Yuri never touched him like that. She hardly touched him at all. Jungkook had always craved affection, but he’d never known how much he would truly enjoy it until now.

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I…?” This would normally have been a moment he would have tried to laugh at, but his heart hurt so much, he went back to crying. 

Why didn’t he feel guilty?

“Jungkook, look… Can I be honest with you for a second?” Yoongi eventually said. He seemed serious. 

Jungkook looked over at the doctor, ready for the slap to the face he came for. 

“I’m trying to look at this situation as objectively as I can. It’s been a while since we talked and I never really got Yuri’s side when I wanted to speak to you both one-on-one. As much as I probably shouldn’t, I think this is a situation where I need to take my therapist hat off and approach this like I’m just your friend giving you my two cents. Can I do that?” Yoongi asked before he continued. 

Jungkook steadily nodded.

Yoongi took a deep breath and one good look at Jungkook before continuing. “You don’t look good.” His words were blunt, but he had a look of genuine concern on his face. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that to be what he was going to say.

“You look like shit if I’m being honest.” Yoongi reiterated, wanting to be even more straightforward. As hurtful as it might sound, it was the truth. He didn’t even know Jungkook that well and he could clearly see the last few months had not been kind to him. It might have been different if he had no inclination as to why that might be the case, but considering what they’ve discussed so far, plus the fact that he’d briefly met his wife, he already knew a problem he could help advise on. Hopefully a bit of no-nonsense advice might set him on the right path. 

“I’ve seen all types of couples come in through those doors, and many more before I got my own office. I’ve helped couples rekindle their relationships that were in horrendous conditions.  Some were just minor issues that they needed help mediating and talking through. Others… I’ll be honest and say I’m surprised they even worked out. No relationship is perfect, but as long as there’s love, there’s hope. You and Yuri are a special case. You both never had those feelings at any point of your relationship that I could help remind you of.” 

Yoongi had spent some time after Jungkook’s last session contemplating the best advice he could give to a couple who had never properly loved each other. Helping them was basically asking them to build a relationship from scratch, a mission Jungkook seemed dead set on doing, and it might have been possible if their relationship didn’t hold such animosity. 

The way Yuri acted in the one session he met her in was honestly unacceptable. Her words were said out of spite, not out of hurt, or even in hopes of betterment— she just wanted to make it hurt as much as possible. Hostile relationships weren’t a foreign subject to him, but it was clear by Jungkook’s panic attack that what he saw probably didn’t even scratch the surface of their relationship behind closed doors.

Yoongi would help anyone who came through his doors, but when he suspected someone was causing more harm than good, and not even trying to make things work, there was little he could do. Being even more honest with himself, he didn’t want to help them. Toxic relationships aren’t good for anyone’s well-being, and it went against the very reason he became a therapist to encourage Jungkook to “stick it out” and hope things get better. 

This wasn’t even just toxic… 

Jungkook looked like he got hit by a bus, and then it backed up, ran over him again, backed up, and just kept repeating the cycle to make sure they got him. He did not look good, and although he didn’t know Jungkook all that well and there could be many things in his life that might be causing his mental break, he could never forget his face as Yuri spewed those harsh words at him.

What he did know was that she certainly wasn’t helping.

“You and Yuri… I don’t think your relationship is healthy to continue— not now at the very least. I think you need some time to regain your footing before even entertaining the idea of having healthy discussions about your relationship. I never thought I’d say this, but I think the affair could be a good thing for you in some way. Hopefully it might get you to think more about your relationship with your wife and could aid in the overall discussion on whether it should continue.” It was certainly strange hearing that out of the doctor’s mouth. Never in a million years did Jungkook expect that when he came over.

“The fact that you’re telling me you didn’t really enjoy sex in general until last night, that you only wanted it as a way to get close to Yuri… I mean, I hope you know that’s not good.” Yoongi laid it out plainly, hoping he would see the issue. 

Jungkook stared down at the ground, seemingly lost in thought. “But it’s all my fault…” 

“Jungkook—”

“It’s my fault, everything is. If I was better— fuck, and here I am cheating on her— I— I—” The tears started spilling past his eyes, and Yoongi could tell Jungkook was seconds away from a breakdown. 

His hands quickly tangled in his hair, but even with the dark locks in the way Yoongi could still see the way they shook. His breathing grew more shallow, and it was obvious he wasn’t listening to him anymore.

Yoongi quickly leaned over and wrapped an arm around him.

“Take deep breaths for me.” Yoongi softly instructed, but things got worse before they got better. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised this was happening, Jungkook seemed off since the moment he first said hello. Things had since escalated, but he feared this attack had started long before he stepped back into his office.

Jungkook seemed panicked realizing that this was happening again. He was almost hyperventilating at this point, but Yoongi was there just like the last time. Jungkook looked at him for help with tears in his eyes and Yoongi made sure he held his gaze as he started taking calm, deep breaths, hoping Jungkook would mirror him.

It was bad, really bad actually. Yoongi was starting to worry Jungkook might pass out, but eventually he was able to catch his breath enough so he could participate in the breathing exercises. 

“I’m— I’m so sorry— I’m so—so sorry!” Yoongi was shocked Jungkook was able to talk at all, but unsurprised that he was back to apologizing for something he didn’t need too. 

This, this is exactly why Yoongi truly believed their relationship was beyond saving at this point. This wasn’t just a rough patch, and even the word toxic didn’t feel like it was enough either. Abuse— emotional abuse— Jungkook was showing similar symptoms to those he’s treated who came from situations where their partner was verbally abusive, degrading them every day to the point they saw little value in themselves anymore. But this was a huge accusation, one Yoongi didn’t want to share with Jungkook just yet. He didn’t know Yuri or the situation enough to throw that term at her, but Yoongi just knew this relationship was not good for Jungkook in the slightest.

He eventually managed to calm Jungkook down enough to repeat the phrase he told him last time while he went to get him some water.

“It’s okay not to be okay.” Cleverly handpicked from the title of the popular Netflix show many of his patients were familiar with. 

Jungkook had calmed down for the most part. They both sat in silence— Jungkook’s soft whines occasionally filled the space along with the crinkling of the water bottle he held tightly in his grasp. It honestly hurt to watch him like this. It’s not like he knew the guy all that well, but Yoongi was always quick to get attached to anyone he looked after… and something about Jungkook reminded him of a stray puppy he found on the street. It was sick and injured, and Yoongi wanted nothing more than to take it home and nurse it back to health. Now, Jungkook wasn’t a stray puppy by any means, but from the meetings they shared he held the same innocence and fragility you might look at a puppy with. He was so broken, young, and had so much going for him still.

It wasn’t even Jungkook’s fault that he ended up in this situation, a crazy expectation was placed on him at a young age in a world that seemed so foreign to the doctor. Yoongi might not understand it, but he couldn’t just sit back and watch Jungkook essentially give up and spiral further and further into a hole he might not eventually be able to pull himself out of.

“You don’t have to answer this if you’re not comfortable; I’m just curious… Who was it with?” The question seemed to linger in the air for a long time. At first, Yoongi thought Jungkook just wasn’t in a talking mood anymore, or maybe he needed to clarify, but eventually he answered.

“She works at Golden Tech… we stayed late last night working on things and…” Jungkook trailed off, letting the silence speak louder than he could.

Yoongi nodded his head, getting the picture. “Was it just a spur of the moment thing or…?” he continued.

Jungkook was quiet for a little while, but eventually, he shook his head as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

“No… yes… maybe…? I had been thinking about her for a while and… it had been so long since Yuri and I… you know…? We had a fight that morning because of it and… I don’t know, I think I had a breakdown. She was there for me and so warm and—” Jungkook had to stop himself abruptly knowing how strange that sounded. It made him think back to his time with you in his office. His face flushed at the recollection, and Yoongi smiled at him.

“It’s alright. She sounds nice if she was there for you like that. How long have you thought about this?” 

“It’s been years— probably since she started working at the company.” Jungkook felt himself getting choked up at the shame of it all. “It got worse as time went on and I saw more of her— it’s one of the reasons I booked Yuri and I for therapy back then— she was in my head too much.”  

Interesting.

“Do you have feelings for her?” Another blunt question from the doctor that Jungkook was certainly unprepared for. What he said was so off the wall that it warranted a spit-take like he was in some sitcom. He was left completely unable to process the words that spilled from Dr. Min’s mouth. The question honestly warranted an even more dramatic response. 

“W-What?!” Jungkook stared at the doctor.

“You heard me.” Yoongi was both joking and incredibly serious. Feelings would change the whole story.

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook stated confidently. “I was just desperate, and I’m very married. It was just a mistake, a fluke.” He echoed your words from last night. You were right after all.

“A fluke? But didn’t you come in here saying you couldn’t stop thinking about it?” Yoongi pointed out.

Jungkook suddenly got very quiet.

“Okay Jungkook, I’m going to need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say— you can do that, right?” Yoongi put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder to get him to look him in the eye. He hated eye contact, it just made him flustered, but he would do anything to ensure Jungkook was paying attention.

“In all my years as a couples therapist I never thought I’d say this, but I think taking some time apart from Yuri to go out and live your own life might be the best option to go from here. I think you’re not in the right headspace yet to have a productive conversation with her about the issues in your relationship— I think you could use some time apart to clear your head and get your thoughts in order.”

Blunt, the doctor wasn’t beating around the bush at all.

“You need to take some time for yourself and make sure you’re okay before prioritizing your relationship. You’re still so young, you got married really young— I feel like it’s hard to even have those conversations with Yuri when you might not even be sure what you want in the first place. That’s not your fault, but you deserve to take some time for yourself to figure it out.” 

Yoongi was still working on how to navigate his own marriage and he specialized in the field. Managing a relationship with the newly added challenge of parenthood was a territory he’d only covered with clients in the past, but experiencing it personally was a completely different story. Even he was still learning to deal with the big change in him and his wife’s life. He couldn’t imagine going through all the challenges of marriage when he was twenty-six, let alone twenty-two. That certainly would have spelled disaster. 

“I think these issues run deeper than what I could help you with in couples therapy, and honestly Jungkook, I recommend taking some time to evaluate if your relationship is something you want to continue. I don’t know what happens behind closed doors, so I don’t want to overstep, but I’m seeing a lot of red flags in the way Yuri treats you. No relationship should have you feeling like this, and at the very least, I think some time apart will help you get some perspective and communicate this to her.” 

Jungkook continued to stare at him with wide eyes, and Yoongi just hoped he was listening.

“Removing yourself entirely I think should be the first step— focusing on yourself, doing the things you like, and spending time with people who make you feel happy and appreciated would be good for you. It would hopefully help get you back on your feet. However, I know this situation is still complicated.” 

“You should tell Yuri what happened last night, your feelings about it, why it happened, etcetera… I know it will be hard, and I can’t tell you what her reaction to this might be, but it’s in the past now, and honesty is the least you can offer her at this point.” Despite his mixed feelings toward Yuri, he still didn’t condone cheating. He’d been on the other side of that story before, and going behind someone’s back and lying might honestly be worse than the act itself.   

“It will give her the chance to make her own decision about the future of your relationship. If she doesn’t end things right then and there and doesn’t mention it already, you should say that you need a little space. You can say this was my idea if you have to. But for your sake Jungkook, and for the sake of your relationship, I think you should take a step back so you can have the opportunity to learn and explore exactly what you want moving forward.” This seemed like the only path Jungkook could take at this point. He didn’t know how Yuri would react to this considering they never truly had a relationship, but if she still wanted to work things out, Jungkook needed some time away from her to hopefully give him a chance to be in a better mental state. Then maybe they could have a proper conversation about the future of their relationship.   

Yoongi had only turned away for a second during his closing statement, but it was enough that when he looked back, Jungkook’s eyes had fluttered closed, and he looked like he was about three seconds away from dozing off. 

“Jungkook, did you hear me?” Yoongi shook him lightly, making Jungkook jolt awake.

“Yes— sorry! Sorry, sorry— fuck, I’m so sorry!” Jungkook was apologizing once again, and Yoongi already felt bad. 

“I just, sorry— I hardly slept last night or the night before… I’m running on three hours of sleep from two days ago.” Jungkook tried to laugh it off as he rubbed his tired eyes, but having this moment of calm after everything that’s happened was enough for the need to sleep to overwhelm him. 

Yoongi softly rubbed his back again. “You know that’s not good, right?”

“I know, and I have this big meeting later— I’m doomed.” In that instant, the haziness of sleep had clouded his brain. He couldn’t think straight, and he had to present at the meeting later along with you… Jungkook didn’t notice Yoongi’s concerned gaze as he tried to wake himself up. 

“You did hear me earlier, right?” Yoongi asked again.

“I did…” He wasn’t lying. His eyes might have closed at some point, but he was taking in every word the entire time.

“What will you do next then?”

“I don’t know.” It was a lot. Too much was happening and he was too tired to really think about what he should do right now.

Yoongi nodded. “It’s a lot, I understand. I just want to make sure you’ll think about what I said.”

Jungkook looked over and Yoongi could see how quickly his eyes had grown red.  He looked like he could pass out at any moment. 

“I will.”

Yoongi watched Jungkook rub his eyes before he tried to open them up. It looked like it was taking everything in him to keep them open. “Jungkook, maybe you should take a nap before you head out again.” Yoongi suddenly said.

Jungkook blinked a couple of times before turning toward the doctor. “Huh?”

“You can sleep on the couch. I don’t have my first appointment till 12:30, so you can stay here until then.” It was a generous offer, and one he wouldn’t normally make, but he felt it was necessary given Jungkook’s condition. 

“That’s really nice of you, but I have work I need to—” 

“Mmm, you don’t think your work will be affected if you haven’t slept right in the last 48 hours?” Yoongi interrupted. 

Jungkook was about to say something, but the more he thought about it and his eyes continued to sting, the more he knew the doctor was right. Truth be told, Jungkook doesn't sleep much these days anyway. He was busy as it was, but almost any time he got in bed, his head would be swimming with so many thoughts it took forever to fall asleep. However, even then, these last two days had definitely taken a toll on him. If it was any other day, he would have insisted he needed to get back to work, but really, he just had to be there for the meeting later; any other work could be handled at a different point if need be. The doctor was right as well— how could he get anything done like this? Even walking seemed like an impossible task.

“You’d really let me stay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, but Yoongi noticed he sounded surprised.

“Of course. Rest up.” Yoongi gave him a slight smile before standing up. “I’ll just be over at my desk doing a little work. I won’t be loud.” 

Jungkook stared up at Dr. Min with tears in his eyes. He could hardly believe anyone was being this nice to him, let alone after he admitted to cheating on his wife. The doctor didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything as he moved over to his desk.

Jungkook quickly whipped out his phone, and after a bit of scrolling, found the person he needed to call. All it took was a few rings for him to answer.

“Hyung…” Jungkook was groggy and hoarse from all the crying. Just the thought of sleep alone was enough to wear him down even more.

“Jungkook? Where are you?” Jimin’s concerned voice was heard on the other end.

“Doesn’t matter— just… I wanted to tell you to let everyone know who might be looking for me, that I’m going to be a little late today.” 

“Late? What about the meeting later?” Jimin exclaimed, a little baffled. Of all the days to be late…

“I’ll be there. If Y/n asks—” There it was, the person he tried not to think about at all.

Jimin noticed the pause. “Jungkook?”

“Uh, if Y/n asks where I am, tell her I’ll be there an hour beforehand so we can do our final preparations.” Seeing you again… he was really not looking forward to seeing you again.

“Jungkook…”

He rubbed his sleepy eyes, but nothing he did made them any easier to keep open. “Yes?”

“What’s going on? Why are you going to be late?” Jimin was concerned. Despite the awkwardness that had settled between the pair, Jimin never once stopped worrying about him.

“I just— I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It wasn’t a lie necessarily, but he definitely wasn’t going to tell him the whole truth. He couldn’t tell Jimin just how awful he had become.

There was silence over the line for a little while. Maybe Jimin was expecting Jungkook to continue and elaborate further, but then realized that was all the information he was going to get out of him.

“I see… sleep well then, and try to get here as soon as you can. Things have been pretty hectic today.” Jimin pointed out.

Jungkook lazily chuckled. “They’re hectic everyday these days.” Q4s were always so busy.

Jimin laughed as well. “Alright, see you later then.”

“Bye, hyung.” And with that, Jungkook clicked off the call. 

He didn’t notice, but a warm smile had settled on Yoongi’s face. He didn’t have to know who he called, he could tell they were close.

“You seriously don’t mind me staying here? I’ve been told I snore…” Jungkook’s face flushed at the mention of it. Yuri would sometimes kick him awake if he got too loud.

“Sleep!” Yoongi called out as he started looking through his computer. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jungkook sheepishly take off his shoes before grabbing the blanket draped over the couch. He laid down, and it probably wasn’t even two minutes later that Yoongi knew he’d actually fallen asleep. He lightly chuckled to himself before getting started on the work he set out to do. It wasn’t much, but he did come early just to make sure he got it done so he wouldn’t get home too late.

To be honest, Yoongi hardly noticed Jungkook was even there at all. It just felt like the times he’d be working at home and Heran would be passed out on the couch with their daughter sleeping in her arms. But Jungkook wasn’t lying earlier; he did snore. It wasn’t anything too obnoxious, but occasionally Yoongi was reminded someone was in fact in the room with him. Even then, he hardly noticed— again, it was just like home.

Cute. 

Jungkook was truly out cold. Last night was overwhelming. First, the whole situation with you sent him spiraling, and then his quest to make himself feel bad about it proved to be a harder task than it should have been. 

No matter what good memory he recounted of him and Yuri last night, the thought of you on his desk was like a massive tidal wave that washed any attempts he made to remember his wife back to sea. In truth, he spent more of the night trying not to give into temptation than the thought of any guilt about his actions. He'd already betrayed Yuri enough; relieving the ache for some reason that was a line he couldn’t cross. 

These thoughts created a horrible cycle in his mind of “you just cheated on your wife” to then “but it just felt so good” to “but you know how disappointed Yuri would be if you do that” to “but it felt so fucking good” to “you’re an actual piece of shit, you deserve feeling like this.” It had his head spinning. 

He was tired and tried downing a beer so he could quickly pass out and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. But then Yuri came home— 5:35am on the dot. 

She looked good, so good, even with most of the lights off. Yuri had changed from her off-the-shoulder, black, sweater dress into something more relaxing— a cozy black hoodie and gray sweatpants. Yuri was also carrying the tote she used for short excursions that weren’t overnight, but far enough to come back at a time like this— she had to go to and from Busan today. She must have been so tired, and he’d spent the night cheating on her.

Jungkook had been so out of it. He was drunk, very drunk, and he was so tired, but he just couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe he would have reacted better seeing her, but his whole body felt numb when she noticed he was sitting at the dining table. 

This would have been the time for him to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but instead he just continued to sit there.

Yuri hurriedly walked over and despite how much the room was spinning, he could tell by her footsteps she was mad.

“Jungkook, are you drunk?!” She exclaimed, but the words were hazy in his mind. The question was redundant, all the empty beer bottles on the table would have given her the answer. 

“Yuri… I’msorry.” His words slurred. He bet he looked pathetic. He hasn’t gotten drunk in front of her that often. He never wanted her to see that side of him, or rather, how that other side might act if she did.

The silence lingered in the apartment for a little and maybe if the lights were on, she would have seen his lip quivering before she heard his sobs.

“I’m sorry.” His sad attempt at an apology rang in the air. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, sorry. I’m—”

“What is wrong with you?” She honestly sounded baffled. Through the haziness of it all, he recognized that she likely had no idea what he was talking about.

There were so many things he could be apologizing for, yesterday morning was a great example. Maybe that’s what she thought he was talking about. Or maybe it was the fact that he was drunk. There were just so many things, but cheating on her probably wasn’t where her immediate train of thought went.

“I’m sorry!” He just sobbed out, an apology not for cheating on her necessarily, but because he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it.

Yuri had no idea what was going on, and it was so late. “Get yourself together, please. It’s too late for this and I’m too tired to try and understand you. I’m going to bed and you better figure this out before joining me.” Yuri just sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder once again before walking off toward their bedroom. The fact she even offered to share the bed was astonishing. He deserved less than the couch at this point.

With Yuri here, it made it all too real how badly he had betrayed her. They were meant to be playing the part of a happily married couple, they were meant to be a happily married couple, but he let his own selfish desires get in the way and now that dream was shattered. Why couldn’t he have just waited? All he ever wanted was to be a good husband to her and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about the night he shared with you. He’d cheated and still couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for more than two seconds, instead overwhelmed by the way his whole body hadn’t stopped tingling since he helped you off his desk. He never deserved forgiveness. Horrible. He couldn’t go any lower than this. 

He was too drunk to remember when the shaking began, or when it got hard to breathe, but he knew he had to listen to your advice. He needed to talk to someone, now.

Jungkook had looked up when Dr. Min’s office opened, and he was at the door shortly after the secretary got there. She had given him those same sad eyes she did before he left the last time when she saw him stumble into the office.

“Dr. Min will be here shortly…” she had assured him. She could probably see how on edge he was.

To be honest, the whole night was a blur at this point. One minute he was at the dining table, the next he was calling Dae-Jung (who was kind enough to pick him up, despite the early hour and how his words slurred together on the phone), then he was in Dr. Min’s office. It felt like time was passing by without him. 

Jungkook never checked the time to know when he fell asleep, but when he felt the gentle touch of Dr. Min letting him know it was time to get up, he knew he hadn’t slept long enough. Just opening his eyes was a task that seemed too much to overcome. He needed eight hours, probably more at this point. He honestly felt worse after waking up than he did before he fell asleep. He hoped it was just the grogginess needing to wear off, but the sounds of amusement from the doctor he eventually realized was sitting on the table right in front of him, were not the best received.

“You might want to fix your hair.” Yoongi chuckled lightly, seeing the long strands sticking up in different directions.

Cute.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he wanted to go back to sleep so badly. 

It certainly looked that way from Yoongi’s perspective as well. Jungkook had this grumpy look on his face as he steadily tried to sit up, and his eyes just barely fluttered open so he could see they were slightly red.

“Do you feel better?” Yoongi asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head.

“I’m not surprised. You really need to get more sleep… If you can, you should take the rest of the day off after your meeting. Give yourself the day to try and get yourself back together.” He suggested. “Doctor’s orders.”

The thought was tempting. The main task he had to complete today was the meeting. Everything else, as far as he knew, could be handled later. But he already hadn’t shown up to work this morning, what would everyone think? What might they be saying right now? Just the thought of anyone thinking he was slacking off made the idea seem selfish. 

Jungkook didn’t say anything though, as he tried to muster up any energy he had regained to get up from the couch.

“Oh, and before I forget—” Suddenly Jungkook felt a small piece of paper in his hand. It took a minute for him to realize what it was, but it was similar to the one Yoongi gave him after his last session. 

“Please make sure to visit him this time. I may be a therapist as well, but I think he’d be much better to talk to about your individual needs.” Yoongi was almost pleading. 

Kim Namjoon. Right, he forgot to do that last time. 

“Talk to him please, but if you ever need someone else to just chat with unofficially, you can stop by the office at any time or call me if you need to. You have my work phone, but at the bottom of the note I wrote my personal number.” If Jungkook was a patient, this probably would have been crossing a line, but he hasn’t been an official client since his last session back in April.

This was all unofficial, and it would continue to stay that way until things improved enough that alarm bells wouldn’t go off anytime he saw Jungkook. For some reason, he doubted that would happen anytime soon, at least as long as he was with Yuri. 

Yoongi made Jungkook agree to book an appointment soon, and said he’d check up with Namjoon to make sure he fulfilled his promise. They also promised to talk again soon as Jungkook started fixing himself up before heading out.

He was still slightly hungover, but the water he drank earlier helped ease things a little, so the headache wasn’t as bad as what it could be considering how much he imbibed last night.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook was getting a text from his driver that he was outside. 11:43am— an hour and twenty until the meeting and less than twenty minutes till he promised to meet you. He had to hurry and pray the traffic wasn’t bad, he still had to head home to shower and change….

With a swift goodbye, Jungkook was slinging his suit jacket and coat on before heading downstairs.

•────•──────────•────•

The meeting went okay. It was mainly thanks to you though. You were a great presenter, and things all went relatively how you both had planned. But Jungkook could have done better— he hadn’t even needed to talk much, but maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the hangover, or the massive wall of anxiety he practically slammed into that made things so difficult.

Jungkook had given presentations before, many times actually, and while he was always a little nervous, most of it would go away the minute he got up there and he was able to say what he needed to say to get his point across. For some reason, his anxiety was almost crippling this time. 

Jungkook had hardly thought about the presentation. So much shit had been happening it had almost been an afterthought. But while he was practicing with you, he was not prepared for the jitters he got as time drew nearer for the executives to come in.

It was even worse when it was actually time. He stood up there with you and he couldn’t stop shaking. The eyes of the executives were too much. It felt like that nightmare all over again. It was like they knew what he did, how terrible and incapable he was, and how he deserved how shitty his life had turned out.

Somehow he was able to cover all the points he needed to, but the shakiness in his voice was embarrassing, and he nearly had a breakdown when he saw their confused expressions staring back at him. He felt bad, so bad actually, because he was ruining this for you.

And you… Jungkook didn’t know what to do seeing you again. As soon as he walked into the meeting room, he was filled with disgust, but also wanted nothing more than to pull you close once more. It was horrible. 

You looked so good too, you always did. Your light blue turtleneck was neatly tucked into your white skirt, your signature lipstick was back on display, and your hair was styled nicely as it always was. You were so polished, a completely different look to how he dropped you off last night. And you looked amazing either way in his opinion.

But things were awkward, very awkward as you started your preparations. And to make matters worse, you were mad at him, or at the very least it was obvious you didn’t want to be around him when he finally made it to the meeting room. He saw it for a split second after he walked through the door and you made eye contact. It was a silent moment when you both acknowledged the night before, a moment you both realized that last night had in fact happened— but you were far quicker to move on from it, choosing to stick to the promise made to put the whole thing behind you.

Last night was a mistake, a fluke. It shouldn’t have happened.

The doctor was right that things would be different if feelings were involved, but last night was nothing more than sex. He was horny, sad, and you just happened to be there…. If you both acknowledged it then it would become something, something more than it needed to be. He was married, you were his coworker, and that’s how it needed to stay. 

But still, for a moment he wanted to say something. He wanted it to be something, because as much as he knew he needed to try and push past this, last night was still on his mind. Dr. Min didn’t help either. He thought he would give him the slap in the face he needed, but his words stuck to him.

What he wanted? Why did it matter what he wanted? He was the one who needed to fix this, he was the one who messed up. But for some reason anytime he thought about it you would pop into his head. You had been just a taste of the things he hadn’t discovered, and like a veil finally being lifted from his eyes, he could finally see how immense the world he lived in was. But you were forbidden, a fruit he couldn’t have, one he shouldn’t want. All he had was a taste and he wanted more. He wanted you in all the ways possible and to explore a side of himself he didn’t know existed until he was with you that night. The only experience he had was with Yuri, and he barely explored his sexuality outside of his relationship— Yuri making up 95% of his sexual experience and 100% of his relationship experience. He knew he was an amateur going into his marriage, but he never knew sex could feel that good.

He wanted Yuri, he wanted his wife, he wanted to be her husband, but as much as he kept telling himself that, the doctor’s words were back in his head once again and that side he was ashamed of would come out. He wanted you, and it was worse this time— instead of his imagination fueling his fantasy, he had an actual memory to look back on. The more he thought about it, the more the doctor’s words rang in his head. 

Would the best thing for his and Yuri’s relationship really be a break from each other? How did that make sense at all? How would he ever fix the mess he made if he wasn’t with her? And then to tell her about the affair? That was just a straight ticket to divorce and failure. The amount of people that would be let down if they knew what he did… it just didn’t make sense.

He had to fix this. He had to fix this. Failure wasn’t an option. 

•────•──────────•────•

The next few days weren’t any better. Somehow, it got worse.

He thought things would be awkward for a little while, but eventually you both would fall back into your routine. He thought the memory of that night would fade, and you would just become his coworker again. That mistake, that fluke, it would be like it never happened. 

But it did, and he couldn’t forget it. It seemed to be the only thing he could think about these days: your lips, your hands, your body, how it felt to have you right there on his desk. 

It should have been a mistake, it should have been a fluke, Jungkook should have been trying his very hardest to push that night out of his mind, to pretend that it didn’t happen, but… 

Sometimes he’d think about it too much. His mind betrayed him first and then his body would follow soon after. It seemed to happen every time he was alone. In the shower, in his office, in the gym, there was even this one time you assisted some of the managers with a presentation and he nearly lost his mind trying to keep it together. He completely forgot how to act like a normal person around you. Anytime you were in the same vicinity, the awkward conversations you used to share had downgraded to just standing there and staring at you like an idiot. He didn’t know what to say around you, how to make things go back to the small, awkward, yet friendly conversations you both would share whenever you saw each other in these last few weeks since you’d been promoted.  

He was a mess, and his mind and thoughts were muddled by a growing need that just got worse as the days passed. Each time he’d plead for his body to listen to him, to forget about that night so he could focus on Yuri again. There were too many times he had to fight every force of nature to stop himself from giving in. Tears would stream down his face as he thought about you, Yuri, and tried his best not to reach down his pants and fix it. 

He never thought it could get any worse than what he went through during those ten months of torture, but in just a matter of days you had him more needy than he knew what to do with.

Yesterday, two days after he had you on his desk, he tried to get Yuri to help him, but he should have known better. Jungkook had been in the shower with tears in his eyes as he looked down and saw what thinking about you did to him. He was trying so hard to be good for Yuri. He’d already betrayed her once, and he didn’t want to do it again, but it hurt so much.

In desperation, he quickly got out of the shower and went to Yuri who was lying peacefully on their bed, scrolling through her phone. Jungkook had tried to be subtle as he got in beside her, his hair was still damp and all. He scooted close and wrapped his arms around her waist. As soon as he was close enough she could feel it, he knew she could. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes all over again when he noticed her confusion before her realization of what was happening. This wasn’t as innocent as pulling her close because he wanted to cuddle, no, his perverse intentions couldn’t have been more clear.

He felt like a monster.

“Jungk—”

“Help— help me— please…” He quietly sobbed into her shoulder. His hips felt like they had a mind of their own, and he started grinding into the flimsy fabric of her shorts.

It was a desperate plea so he could forget about you and finally move on. He wanted Yuri to make him remember that she was his wife, he was her husband, and you were nothing more than his coworker. He would have taken anything, really. He would have done anything to make him forget.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, she let him have his fun. He was such a mess— his hand slowly ran under her tank top feeling her warm skin while he practically fucked her with their clothes still on. As more time passed, the more he lost himself in the pleasure. He didn’t need long at all; he just wanted it to stop hurting… anything to stop hurting.

His breathy sighs of pleasure filled the room in between the sound of the sheets shifting underneath him. There was a moment he thought Yuri would let him have this, after all, she still thought that it’d been ten months since he’d had the sweet bliss of release. But of course, he was too greedy.

“Yuri…” He sighed in hopes that would be enough to engage her, because even now he was picturing you on his desk. His hand came up to tug lightly on the waistband of her shorts. Two minutes tops and he could forget it all, get his priorities straight, and you were nothing to him again.

“Jungkook, stop! What the fuck are you doing?!” Yuri finally snapped as she turned around to face him. But even then, he still didn’t stop entirely. It was just enough to get him to slow down.

“Please— please— Yuri!” He cried because it hurt so much, and you just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Yuri was quick at gaining the upper hand, and she was on top of him just like that day. She had his hands pinned down and was sitting right where he needed her. 

“What is going on with you these days?!” She was disappointed, and he was too. She was right; what had gotten into him? Jungkook just sobbed because it still hurt.

“Help…” He begged like it meant anything. Maybe if he had told her right then and there about the affair she would have assisted. Maybe, or maybe not, but maybe that was what it would take for him to focus on her again. But just like the day this whole mess started, she seemed completely uninterested in helping him. 

“No.” She didn’t beat around the bush whatsoever, and maybe on a different occasion, he would have appreciated the honesty instead of leading him on to the point he was a whimpering mess underneath her. It just hurt too much.

Jungkook slightly shifted his hips— it was just enough to elicit a breathy moan from his lips and for the shame he felt all over to wash away in a second.

Yuri looked down at him questionably, he normally wasn’t like this at all.

“If you won’t help, then can I at least— can I fix this myself?” Jungkook looked up at her with pleading eyes. 

“Wha—”

“You’re probably tired. You’ve been really busy these days, and I’m sorry I bothered you, but—” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he subtly tried grinding into her a little harder. “I can’t wait. It hurts so much, Yuri— please can I fix this myself…” Jungkook never thought he’d reach this type of low.

First the affair, and now he was begging just because he couldn’t keep himself together long enough to wait until she needed him too. He couldn’t even imagine the disappointment she must be experiencing. Her eyes said as much before she even spoke.

“You can’t keep it together?” Her tone was low, and though Jungkook could sense she was mad, to his messed-up brain it was just more fuel to the fire of desire that was raging out of control at this point. It was hot.

He hurriedly shook his head.

“I feel like I might lose it just from you sitting on my lap.” He cried, tears streaming down his face because that wasn’t an exaggeration at all. He felt so bad. Why was he so pathetic? But at the same time, why couldn’t she see his desperation? He just wanted the chance to be with his wife, the person he should be with instead of his coworker in the middle of the night, at his job, right on the desk he worked on. 

Suddenly, Yuri chuckled as she looked down at him. She leaned down so her lips hovered over his cheek. He wished she didn’t have his hands pinned down so he could have tried to push her to meet his lips, but she kept moving up so her mouth was right by his ear.

This angle… Jungkook wished she was wearing one of those tank tops today. The view would have been amazing.

“You really can’t keep it together, huh?” Yuri said again, right into his ear, and he very well could have lost it right then and there. 

“No…” He sobbed.

Yuri pulled back slightly so she could look him in the eye. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with you Jungkook, or whatever has gotten into that thick skull of yours, but I’m going to need whatever it is out immediately. You operate on my time, you wait until I’m ready. The fact that you can’t do that is just pathetic. I don’t care if it’s been months, I don’t understand how you think begging will do anything— a good fucking husband would know how to wait.” Every syllable was filled with the disappointment and malice he knew he deserved.

His heart wrenched at every word.

“I just— I just didn’t want to make a mistake— I’m sorry.” Jungkook was bawling at this point, his voice shaking uncontrollably. His face was probably red and soaking wet from how much he was crying. But he was lying right through his teeth. He’d already made a mistake, a horrible, terrible one. She had every right to never forgive him if she ever found out. It had only been a few days since he had you on his desk, and even after he had gone to such lengths to quell the ache of the last ten months, in just two days, he was in an even worse state than before. 

“A mistake?” She laughed.

“You’re the mistake— agreeing to get married to you was the mistake. I don’t ask much from you, yet you just keep disappointing me. I don’t even know why I still try to do this.” Her grip on his wrists had tightened so much it was starting to hurt. With the look in her eyes, Jungkook felt numb at this point. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t speak. Even if he could utter an apology, it would never be enough for the pain he’s caused her. Every word was true. Yuri was always right.

“But nevertheless, here I am. I don’t want to fight with you today Jungkook. All I ask is that you’ll wait, and until then…” Yuri’s hand let go of his wrist and started tracing from his jaw, down to his neck, over the expanse of his sweater, and eventually settled on the waistband of his shorts. She roughly pulled it before letting go, the pain of the elastic slapping back to his burning skin made an uncontrollable moan leave his lips before he could stop it. His head was spinning, he couldn’t keep up with what was happening anymore, and it was almost overwhelming.

“Stay away from me.” Her voice had grown soft, sultry almost, as she stared at him.

Jungkook felt almost crazed as the tears kept spilling from his eyes, her words loudly echoing through his head, but he was still hard, and he didn’t know what hurt more at this point. He was shaking and had the intense urge to run away and hide from the world, but he wanted nothing more than for Yuri to touch him more. It was selfish and disgusting, he just couldn’t get any worse.

With a hand now free, Jungkook suddenly found the strength to change the position. But before he realized what he was doing, Yuri was underneath him.

“Don’t do that, please.” Jungkook sighed, the position making his body instantly react, but his heart hurt too much to even attempt anything again. “I’ll leave you alone, I just want to make you happy— I’ll do anything, I hope you know that, but just… don’t make this hard for me, please.” Jungkook begged through his teary gaze. 

“I’m sorry I want you all the time, but when you touch me like that… I’m weak, you said it yourself.” He tried to laugh through the pain, but he was starting to feel shaky again.

“I just want to be a good husband, but I’m bad at this, so… just…” He was starting to get so choked up that it was hard to speak. “Just… just… just…” Jungkook buried himself in her neck so she wouldn’t have to see how pathetic he was right now. 

In the moment he missed you and how you comforted him that night; your hands across his back, your gentle touches that made him feel warm all over. He didn’t deserve it— not then, not now… but he still missed it.

“Go easy on me, please.” He couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say this like they haven’t been married for nearly four years. He’d run out of chances at this point. He should know by now what she likes and doesn’t. Even though they hadn’t spent that much time together, Jungkook knew before he walked out of the bathroom that she wouldn’t like this, that she'd get upset, yet he still tried anyway, hoping she might put him out of his misery.

There was no hope for him at this point. How Yuri hadn’t given up on him entirely was astounding.

“Jungkook, get off of me and stop fucking crying, that shit gets annoying after the billionth time.” Yuri groaned, already feeling her neck starting to get soaked. 

He really missed you— even though he didn’t deserve it, but you made him feel so good. He wished he was back to that Tuesday, the day he cried in your arms and took you right there on his desk. He missed you so much.

Jungkook quickly got off of Yuri and the bed entirely. He hastily started making his way to the bathroom once again.

“You better stop that before you—” He didn’t slam the door in her face, but Jungkook was in too much of a rush to let her finish. 

With the outside world finally shut out, Jungkook turned on the light, and from where he was standing at the door, he could see himself in the mirror. He was a mess, he looked like shit. His face was red and puffy, his face stained with tears that just kept falling from his eyes, and because he wasn’t wearing any underwear, the prominent outline of the very reason he got himself into this situation was embarrassingly obvious.

Jungkook hated what he saw, so he quickly turned the lights back off. In the darkness, all he could picture was you once again. That night, your soft warmth, your sympathetic gaze. Why did you look at him like that? Why didn’t you see what Yuri did? But he didn’t want to think about that right now, how much his heart ached, or how his mind cried out to the void to end the pain because he was just making his wife miserable. No. Instead, the memory of you on his desk was too vivid. He could practically still feel you wrapped around him, your hands on his skin, your lips on his lips, he couldn’t forget it.  He didn’t want to.

Tears spilled from his eyes faster than his hand found its way into his shorts. He hesitated for only a second. Yuri was right outside, and this was so wrong. He’d just disappoint her even more than he already has. As shameful as it was, that hesitation only lasted for a second before he hurriedly had his fingers wrapped around his length as he steadily started pumping his needy cock. 

“I’m— so sorry!” Jungkook cried out as quietly as he could. Just one big disappointment. But you, your lips, your hands— fuck, your hands. Your fingers through his hair, your nails down his back, your hand around his cock. It never felt like that before. Jungkook didn’t know it could feel like that—  sex never felt like that. Not with his first, not with Yuri, but you… you… why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

Jungkook hurriedly brought his hand over his mouth, the memories of when he used to do this returning all too quickly. He’d always wished Yuri would touch him, but that was selfish. The fact that she was even spending time with him should be enough. Yet you had touched him, and he didn’t even have to ask? You were strange, but as selfish as it might sound, he liked it.

Jungkook let himself slide down the door, the pleasure his hand was bringing made his knees weak. As much as he wanted to deny it, he wanted you again. He wished you were here right now to help ease the ache in both places. Would you, considering everything that had happened?

Jungkook hurriedly tried to shake those thoughts out of his head. No, you were back on his desk in his office. You noticed he was upset and came over to comfort him and make him feel better in any way you could. Your lips were on his, he was kissing you again and—

Fuck.

Jungkook briskly let go to quickly spit in his hand before hastily going back to fisting his length. Faster, he needed to make himself cum as fast as possible. The shakes were getting worse. He felt horrible, a failure, a disappointment, every flick just made him feel so fucking disgusted in himself, but it hurt too much to stop.

You on his desk, how it felt to have your hand wrapped around him, how it felt to be inside you—

There it is.

Jungkook let his mind reminisce in as much detail as he could remember. How it felt to finally be inside you, the sounds you made, how wet, tight, and warm you were— so fucking good. He wanted you again so badly, it should be criminal. He was married and he already messed up once, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it— you on the desk, your fucking sweet pussy wrapped around his aching length. 

Close, he was getting close.

Jungkook brought his other hand up to tightly hold it against his mouth once more. His moans were getting too loud and he feared Yuri would hear. He tried to speed it up even more. All he needed was a little longer. 

You, your hands, your lips, your warmth, your bunched-up skirt, your thigh-highs, your panties, your red lipstick smearing across his face. Oh. So close. 

And then, at last, the feeling deep down inside growing and growing until he finally spilled inside of you—

…

…

…

Wait… what?

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly shot open, the haunting darkness of the bathroom now an unwelcoming sight. An immediate, deep, visceral sense of panic and dread sunk in as he racked his brain in hopes he was overreacting or misremembering. 

Jungkook had tried to push the memories of that night as far away as possible over the last few days, but now that he was thinking about it properly…

That day… you both hadn’t used protection.

It’s not like he walked around with condoms, he had no need, but…

Suddenly the ache that seemed deafening became just a muffled, dull, fuzzy noise in the background as this realization dawned on him. 

How? How did he not realize you hadn’t used protection? No matter how needy he was with Yuri, he was always so careful in the rare times they went all the way. How did he fucking forget?!

Jungkook suddenly had the urge to run into a wall and hoped he would never wake up again. This entire week had already turned out to be one horrible nightmare. But as if his life wasn’t shitty enough before, suddenly it took a whole new turn. 

The shaking came back and was worse than ever. He was at a point where he was sure he would scream his lungs out, but Yuri would hate the noise. Jungkook felt dazed, the realization was the quickest way to kill the mood, and the fastest he’d ever lost a boner. 

After a while, he somehow found the strength to stand up again and open the door to the bedroom. Yuri had turned off the lights here too. The only light coming in was from the few that were turned on in the hallway and Yuri’s phone playing some type of video. It also didn’t take long for him to see that she had fallen asleep.

For a split second, he was sad she wasn’t awake. He needed someone to talk to, even if that involved telling her about the affair. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind. He probably already had at this point. How could he fucking forget protection?!

Despite his shakiness, Jungkook went over to Yuri’s side— the right if you were facing the bed— and walked over to turn off her phone.

She had a makeup ASMR video playing. Those always helped her sleep and she said she could learn a few things from them while she was awake. As gently as he could, he also took out her headphones and set them on the nightstand. His hands had been shaking so badly that he could hardly pause the video for her.

But as Jungkook made his way to his side— the left— the weight of his actions became even more unbearable.

Jungkook lifted the covers and got in bed, laying face down on the pillow. The fabric was soaked by his tears in a matter of seconds. 

How could things just keep getting worse?

•────•──────────•────•

You knew it would be awkward when you came into work. It was inevitable, considering what things were like the last time you saw each other. However, for your sake and Jungkook’s, you tried your best to ignore what had transpired and move on with your life, but that was easier said than done. 

The minute Jungkook dropped you off and you made it back up to your apartment, you were stuck in place as soon as you closed the door behind you. Time felt like it stood still and nothing around you moved, like space itself had stopped in order to greet you with an agonizing silence. It was to taunt you and let the thoughts of what you had just done fester, quickly gnawing away at your sense of self and your very being, leaving you to question the type of person you thought you were for your entire life. You couldn’t move, trying to process everything that happened. This couldn’t be real, right? 

This was Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about— the Jeon Jungkook who was the son of the CEO at the company you work at.

You pinched your arm so many times you were sure it was going to bruise in your attempt to wake yourself up. You were probably still fast asleep in your cozy bed, stuck in a dream that just wouldn’t end. Your sexual frustration had somehow managed to manifest into you dreaming about your late night meet-up with your boss ending with you sleeping together. All would be fine in the morning except for the fact you’d have to look him in the eye, knowing what your brain had conjured up the night before. It was embarrassing, but that honestly made more sense than everything being real and this night actually happening. 

You were sure you’d wake up at any moment, but your arm started to hurt, and you knew standing here probably wouldn���t do anything. You finally found the strength to move from the entryway and head to your room to start getting ready for bed. You showered, then laid down staring at your ceiling, just waiting for your eyes to shoot open and you’d see it was Tuesday, October 31st, all over again. 

Nothing… nothing happened. 

While the seconds ticked away, your hope was drowned out as you let your mind reminisce about what had happened earlier. The minute you opened the door, you could just see it on his face. He had looked so sad, a pain behind his eyes that made any sense of composure you maintained in front of him come crumbling down. You felt like you had to fix it. Your heart had nearly pounded out of your chest when you got close, holding your coats and his scarf. You didn’t know what you were thinking, pulling him close the way you did, but then his hands were on your waist, and— You flipped over, feeling your face grow warm. 

But that didn’t help whatsoever, because it was like a floodgate had opened, and now you remembered how his lips felt against yours, his hurried hands across your burning skin, and most of all, how his… You spent nearly the entire night tossing and turning, bouncing back and forth between your guilt and shame for somehow getting yourself involved in this situation, to Jungkook and his stupid…

There was a scary part of you that was selfish, one that wished you had invited him upstairs. It had been so long since you’d been in the arms of another human being, that you forgot how much better the experience was. You’d never had sex like that before— it was desperate and emotional in a way you still couldn’t comprehend. The way Jungkook had held onto you, with tears streaming down his face, kept you close. You felt it in the way he kissed you, pleaded for you, the way he touched you. The way he touched you… it had been so long. 

Your tossing and turning had stopped at some point, your fight trying to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head had been lost, hard. The ache between your legs returned before you even realized, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop imagining the way his body felt against yours, his fingers inside you, or the slick glides of his cock through your wetness. 

It was just Jeon Jungkook no matter how hard you tried to close your eyes. You were too tired to fight against your hand traveling down into your shorts, and you nearly cried feeling how wet you were. It was a low moment, the entire night had been a low moment for you, but you let the thoughts fully consume you as your fingers glided between your soaked folds and settled on your clit, rubbing needy circles over the bud that was still a little sensitive from earlier. It was a horrible realization, but that just made your deluded self even more hot. It had been real.

You pictured him, you pictured the night you shared, you pictured the nights you didn’t share where he was just existing in your vicinity. You had no idea this part of you existed, the one where you thought Jeon Jungkook was so hot he could get you this riled up. You had known he was attractive, you had eyes, but the emotions had never let you see him like… that. The soft candle glow that had painted him so prettily, the way his sparkling eyes would look at you, how much you enjoyed the way he looked at you.

“Jungkook…” You whined with seemingly no shame. It was embarrassing, but you had never finished so fast with just your fingers. For a split second, as the bliss washed over you, you found yourself wishing he was here and questioning why of all people he had to be married. But as the high washed over you, all that was left in its wake was the starkness of shame. The guilt you felt as you tried bringing yourself back to earth. You had slept and now masturbated to a married man… Jungkook had a wife, and he was your boss. You thought you were better than this. 

Your eyes had filled with tears, and you spent the rest of the night crying your eyes out because what was wrong with you? You might have just ruined a family— your boss’s family, and who knows what might happen to you career-wise if someone were to find out.

You didn’t really sleep that night; you highly doubted you even got an hour before your alarm went off, and you had to get ready. That day was awful. As you expected yesterday, both Solmi and Taehyung didn’t come into work, probably too drunk from their night of fun to realize their alarms even went off. There was some part of you that was glad they weren’t here. You had been debating all night if you should tell your close friends about your night, but their absence was enough to remind you of your words to Jungkook last night.

It was a mistake, a fluke, it shouldn’t have happened, and you wouldn’t tell another soul so you both could easily pretend like nothing occurred that night. And seeing Jeon Jungkook again… 

Jimin had told you that Jungkook was going to be coming in late, and you couldn’t help the terror that spread throughout your body picturing why that might be. Your mind had drifted to the image of him on his knees begging his wife for a second chance, or maybe she’d kicked him out of the house, or maybe she was going to come after you for ruining their marriage. It felt like every scenario had run through your head by the time you had made it to the meeting room, waiting on him. 

You weren’t prepared at all when you glanced up from your computer at the sound of the door opening, for you to see him again. Your eyes met from across the room, and there was a second, a painful second where your minuscule amount of hope last night had just been a horny delusion that you could simply chastise your brain for making up later, died faster than you would have wanted. You could see it in the way his brows furrowed at you as soon as he met your eyes, that you knew last night had happened. 

He looked really good too… He was in a navy suit, missing a tie, instead a few buttons were undone, and his long hair messily fell around his face in a way that made him look ethereal. He looked like he had run his hands through it one too many times, yet somehow it just made him seem even more perfect. You swore you heard the pearly gates calling your name, the church bells sing, and… You wanted to scream. What were you thinking?! Immediately you decided to just try your best to ignore it, pushing him away was your only option in hoping things went back to normal— they needed to go back to normal. He had a wife, you had your career, you had to pretend it never happened. 

That’s how it needed to be after all. That day was a mistake; it shouldn’t have happened. The more you pretended it was that way, the easier it would be to move past this, the more you could forget, and the quicker things would go back to normal. But deep down, when you were alone, or you’d see him again— doing that was much harder than it needed to be. 

That night would come back to you in a flash. You’d wonder if he was doing okay, was he thinking about the night like you were, or were you just another girl he added to his roster of infidelity? You highly doubted it, just seeing the state he was in you didn’t think this was a normal occurrence, but who knows. There was some part of you that wanted to ask, however you had to keep your distance— at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You knew it was a little rude to almost flat-out ignore him like that, but addressing it would create an even bigger issue. So mean, rude, standoffish Y/n it was then. 

You could still feel his eyes on you anytime you were near each other. Part of you wanted to say something, but for some reason, you could never find it in yourself to tell him to stop staring. You were still mad. This whole thing made you angry and you knew your friends could sense the tension. Everyone in the office could but they probably didn’t question why. They all still thought you hated him after all.

You did… didn’t… you…? It was confusing then and ten times more confusing now. Still though, you tried to keep to yourself and ignore what happened. You thought you were doing a good job of it until you got an email that Friday.

From Director Jeon Jungkook,

can we talk??

It was informal, nothing about work was mentioned, and it was all too familiar with the Jungkook you had met during your late-night rendezvous… meeting! Yes, you were only there for one reason that night, and it was to get things ready for the budget presentation. Maybe this was his attempt at trying to be more comfortable with you. He did say all the formalities felt weird considering you were the same age. That had to be it!

As much as you wanted to delude yourself, deep down you knew whatever he emailed you for had something to do with that night. 

You let him know you’d come over during your lunch break, resisting the urge to tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. But you figured it had to be at least somewhat important for him to reach out. It better be. What part of pretending nothing happened between you two did he not understand?

That’s how you found yourself making your way through the halls to Jeon Jungkook’s office. You tried to be as inconspicuous as you could, turning every corner with ease and looking around anytime you’d hear footsteps behind you. Just being in the same vicinity made you feel like someone would find out what you both did.  

Your brain had rationalized that being seen together would surely be the obvious sign to everyone that you fucked your boss a few days ago. It made no sense whatsoever, you knew that, but still, you made sure to be as stealthy as you could on your way over.

You hoped no one saw you, and you were especially grateful when you passed Secretary Yu’s desk and she wasn’t there either. If you could make this quick, no one would realize you were ever here. 

Staring at the door, you found your heart beating out of control at the thought of facing him again. You knew you weren’t ready for this, you probably would never be, but it was still so soon after it happened…

It took you a second, but eventually you found the strength to knock before pushing open the door.

You were greeted by a similar sight as last time. His office was almost completely dark. He had kept the lights off and closed the blinds so only a sliver of light was peering into the room through the cracks. You could only make out a vague outline, but as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could finally make out Jungkook sitting at his desk. You could see his hands were in his hair, and the more closely you listened, the more you could hear his soft sniffles. Your first instinct was to run over to see what was going on, but you refrained as you steadily made your way over, only narrowly avoiding any furniture in the way. 

“Jungkook?” You called out, your heart nearly speeding out of your chest.

“Y/n…?” His voice sounded so strained.

“Yes, it’s me.” You tried to keep your tone flat, but it wavered slightly as you got closer.

With the confirmation it was you, Jungkook reached over to the lamp on his desk and finally turned on the light. You were shocked to see how disheveled he looked once the warm glow of the lamp hit his features. His hair looked like he had run his hands through it way too many times, his eyes were shot, his face was red, and tears stained his cheeks. 

Seeing him like this, it was hard to keep up your tough exterior. You quickly made your way over to his desk, keeping a notable distance between you two— standing behind the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You feared what might happen if you got any closer. 

“Um, you asked to speak with me.” This is how you’d usually talk whenever he’d call you to his office. Part of you was still holding onto the hope that this was just work related. 

You watched as a whole new wave of emotion seemingly hit Jungkook, fresh tears falling from his eyes as his hands returned to his hair. 

“I—um— I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night, but… um—” Jungkook tried his best to be firm about this, but his whole world felt like it was coming down. He couldn’t sleep last night thinking about having this conversation with you, and now that you were here, it all felt too real.

“… I don’t remember using protection that night.” Jungkook was only able to meet your gaze for a second, long enough to see the look of shock on your face.

A whole new wave of guilt washed over him. This was all his fault.

“I know I didn’t have condoms with me, and unless you did and I didn’t realize you put one on, then…” Jungkook looked like he was pleading with you to tell him he forgot, that he was just so out of it he didn’t realize you had put one on some time in between. He had no reason to carry any with him personally. It’s not like he was expecting Yuri to fuck him in a place where he’d need to have them on him at all times— hell, they hardly used the condoms they kept at the apartment. Jungkook had never even managed to make it through a whole box without needing to replace them first because they’d expired. 

Still though, they were always so careful whenever they had sex. Jungkook spent the entire night mind-boggled at how he could have been so careless with you. And now, because he couldn’t control himself, there was a chance he might have ruined both of your lives. His own life was already shit, but now he might be bringing you down with him. He already had, but somehow the pit only grew deeper.

You sighed at the question— slightly relieved this was going to be easy to answer. 

“Don’t worry.” You remained apathetic, not exactly the emotional breakdown he expected considering the gravity of the situation. All night Jungkook had pictured that the minute he’d tell you, you would scream and curse at him for being so careless. It was almost uncanny how calm you were in comparison. You used the exact same tone whenever you’d talk to him about work, in the office when you had a quick question, or in front of the prying eyes of your nosy coworkers, like it was the most nonchalant thing ever. 

While your words were soothing, he couldn’t calm down quite yet.

“I’m on birth control, so as long as you’re clean we should be fine.” It took a minute for your words to register, but an immediate flush came to his cheeks. He completely forgot about birth control or that ever being a possibility of the invisible contraceptive he had prayed all night for. He felt even more embarrassed that he hadn’t considered you had some type of plan that night. Of course, you were smart, you wouldn’t let someone so pathetic ruin your life.

You watched his face, and you were honestly delighted to see a slight look of relief quickly settle over his soft, saddened features. You tried your best to hide it.

“Oh— I’m sorry. Of course you thought about it— good. We should be good then.” His voice was shaky, and while his words said one thing, he still seemed stressed for some reason as his hands were quickly back in his hair. 

Again, you had to resist the urge to ask him if he was ok. Distance, you had to keep this boundary up. You needed to get out of here.

“If you’re concerned about the other issue, I’ll make sure to pick up a morning-after pill or something on my way home just to ensure we’re fine,” you added, and he slowly nodded. Honestly, even if he hadn't said yes, you probably would have gone anyway just to be safe. You should have done it sooner, but you completely forgot about that detail while trying to push Tuesday out of your mind. 

“It’s up to you…” He mumbled, but he still seemed off. You had to get out of here.

“If that’s all then, I’ll be on my way sir—” You bowed, trying to be as polite as possible, before turning around and heading for the door.

“Wait!” You couldn’t even take two steps before he was calling you back. You visibly tensed up as you slowly turned around. You were greeted with his shiny brown eyes finally meeting your own for the first time since you walked in. Suddenly you felt your knees start getting weak. There was no reason for him to look at you like that.

“Don’t leave… that’s not all I wanted to say…” You could see in the way he looked at you that this was going to be the conversation you feared when you walked in. You resisted the urge to mention that you both agreed not to speak about it, but instead you just crossed your arms, ready to listen.

“I— um… I owe you a major apology…” He stumbled and his hands were back in his hair.

“That night— I don’t know what was wrong with me— it shouldn’t have happened, you were right.” He stopped for a second, and you wondered what he was trying to get at. What more was there to say? It really shouldn’t have happened.

“But…” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked up at you. “I’m even more sorry that despite how wrong I know it was I—” he took a deep breath “I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He truly felt bad. Here he was, trying his best to put his mistake behind him, yet all it did was fill his thoughts. Where was the guilt? Why wasn’t he so ashamed that just the thought of you was enough to remind him of what he’d done?

He saw your hard expression falter for a second, but it was back before he even realized. Jungkook felt like he was at his wits end. Everything was crashing down, and he didn’t have much to lose at this point. 

“And now all I can think about is…” tears quickly filled his eyes knowing what he was about to say “— how I want to do it again so, so badly… it had never felt that good before.” It was a sad, deep, dark confession that he hated as soon as it came out of his mouth. Admitting it was nice was one thing, but wanting to do it again was another.

Maybe you could excuse that night as a one-time thing— he was a mess, you both had some wine, and shit happened before you both could even realize. It was nonsense, Jungkook didn’t drink nearly enough to say he was acting against his own volition, and it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision either. He had thought about having you against every surface in the office before anything actually happened. He’d wanted you nearly as long as you’d worked here.

Jungkook finally had to look away from you as his words settled in the air.

“Jungkook… you know what continuing, even just acknowledging what happened— you know what that would mean…?” You were honestly baffled and you hated the way your heart nearly beat out of your chest at the mention of it.

“Yes.” It was so quiet, and with the faint glow of his lamp you could see a new wave of tears start running down his cheeks. 

“That night— it was all my fault...” His voice was shaky just thinking about it. 

“I told you that I’m in an arranged marriage and that things are rough right now… it’s my fault, everything is my fault.” It certainly was.

“Despite the circumstances we got married in, we both agreed to try to make our relationship work, and I’ve just kept messing things up no matter how hard I tried to make her happy.” It’s been nearly four years and he could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d made her smile.

“She hates me, and I don’t blame her at all— I honestly deserve it and more.” He deserved far worse at this point.

“Why would your wife hate you?” You couldn’t help but ask, but you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. The fact you had somehow found yourself in this situation proved that something wasn’t right. But the question had bounced around in your head for the past few days, wondering what might be splitting the couple to the point Jungkook sought you out for relief.

He looked at you for a split second. “I don’t know how to be a good husband. No matter what I do, I don’t know how to make her happy like I should.” He attested with a level of pain in his voice that you weren’t prepared for. 

“Jungkook…” You were speechless… a deep, unsettling, uneasy feeling spread throughout your body as you listened. You had zero insight into the situation, but despite everything, it felt wrong to hear him be so down on himself. It was heartbreaking to listen to.

“I don’t think you deserve to be hated—” You tried to console, but Jungkook stopped you before you could finish.

“No… she deserves a better husband— a different one— someone who can make her happy, and I should just… just disappear— I can’t do anything right.” He tried to laugh but it just came out like a pained sob. It wasn’t funny and he couldn’t even pretend to laugh at that anymore.

“Jungkook—”  You called out again, but he stopped you in your tracks. 

“I hope you believe me when I say that that night was the first time something like that happened.” His shiny eyes looked up at you again, and you could have broken down right then and there. The pain, you could see it so clearly.

“I despise cheating and the fact that— that— that night happened, I just—” He couldn’t be more disappointed in himself. He’d forever tainted his marriage, just like his parents had done.

Even if Yuri never found out, the fear of her somehow discovering what he did one day… the guilt would kill him. Their anniversary was coming up in a few months— how could he look her in the eyes and relive the moments of their wedding day knowing he betrayed their vows, her trust, knowing that she had every reason to leave him?

Maybe one day he could finally get his shit together and Yuri could love him the way he’d always dreamed, but that would all come crashing down one day when she somehow found out what he did. 

Jungkook at least thought he was above that. The one thing he knew he could promise Yuri was that he’d always be by her side, faithfully and earnestly, yet he’d found a way to fuck that up too.

There really was no happy ending for him, was there?

“I’m sorry— it shouldn’t have happened, and I feel horrible bringing you into my mess.”

You wanted to say that you were equally to blame, but Jungkook was faster.

“And— and I just… I’m sorry— we agreed to try and move on from this but I just can’t stop thinking about you and that night and—” It wasn’t even funny how much he thought about you. Right before you walked in, he had the lights off to hide his shame because even in the middle of what he thought was a crisis, all he could think about was you on his desk. And seeing you now standing in front of him…

“I’m sorry…” Jungkook just cried. He really didn’t have the words to describe how he felt right now. 

“I spoke to a therapist about it.” Jungkook could instantly see the slight panic on your face at the mention of him telling someone about this. “I took your advice from that night about talking to someone. I really wasn’t in a good place at all, and if I hadn’t, I think I might have gone crazy. He was supposed to help me and Yuri with the issues in our marriage, but he’s helped me with more than just my relationship. Don’t worry. Yuri won’t find out.” Jungkook had full trust that the doctor wouldn’t tell Yuri about the affair. Even though their conversation wasn’t protected by doctor-patient confidentiality, he still knew the doctor wouldn’t say anything. He was expecting that Jungkook was going to tell her on his own time. 

You were a little taken aback by the news, but your memory of that night was clear. You knew when you parted ways that he really didn’t seem okay. The fact that it was a therapist he confided in made you relax a little.

“I went to him for a slap on the face, but instead he said— he said I should consider stepping away from Yuri for a little while and take the time to try and figure out what I want in life. But I can’t— I want her, and I want to make our marriage work somehow.” Jungkook was in tears again. He didn’t want to give up on his marriage yet. He couldn’t give up, so many people were counting on him to make this work.

“But I can’t think straight. I’m always so frustrated and you’re always in my head— I know I could be better— it’s not an excuse, I should be better, but—” What was he even saying?

“That night was— it never felt that good before— you were there for me, and despite how much of a mess I was, you—” Why? The question had never run through his head until now, but what could have possibly been your reason for being there with him that night? You were too nice. His thoughts were running a million miles an hour. He honestly couldn’t think clearly anymore.

“And your clothes— I’m sorry about that, I’m so sorry— it had— it had been ten months since I last, you know… but that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry, I should have been better.” He should have been. Imagine how disappointed Yuri would be if she knew. 

“Ten months?” This conversation had gone all over the place, but you couldn’t hide your shock at this piece of news. You had just let him rant, not wanting to interrupt to give him the chance to get whatever he needed off his chest, but you just couldn’t hide your reaction. 

Ten months was certainly not normal, especially considering he was married and had no kids to take up his free time after work. Suddenly, things started making a little more sense.

“It’s my fault— it’s all my fault— I’m not a good husband, I should have been able to wait longer if I had to— or maybe she would have wanted me sooner if I was better.” If he was better he wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. 

There were some things that Jungkook said that made your skin crawl. It was possible his whole spiel could be some convoluted way into excusing what happened between you two, but then he said statements like that that would make alarm bells go off in your head. That certainly wasn’t right. 

“But I want to be better. I want to make things right, and I just feel like I can’t do that when all I can think about is—” Jungkook didn’t finish, instead letting a pained sigh say everything he couldn’t. 

“And I know it’s pathetic, but I wanted your help—” There it was, what’s been on his mind since that night. “Maybe you could tell me what I could do better— how to make her happy, what I’m lacking. And I just can’t stop thinking about you—” He looked up at you with those shiny, round eyes that made it so hard to say no.

And there it was, exactly what you feared when you walked in. 

So much was happening, so many emotions thrown at you that you were tempted to take a seat in the chair in front of you to sit down and process it all. You tried your best to remove all emotion from this, to look at this as objectively as you could, but with Jungkook right in front of you and hearing everything he said—

You knew something was wrong from the minute you walked into your first meeting together, but you could have never predicted just how bad things were. You had no idea what went on behind closed doors. Maybe things really might be as bad as Jungkook said, but the hurt, pain, and desperation he spoke with made the wall you tried putting up impossible to keep from crashing down.

It took you back to Mi-Sun once again. You remembered talking to her in class sometimes and how she would spin every inconvenience into her doing. She always emphasized how it was her fault the other girls would tease her as much as they did. You didn’t understand it then, but Jungkook’s admissions almost felt like a repeat of what happened all those years ago, and you knew how that story ended.

“It’s my fault.” She had said so aimlessly as she stared out the window you both sat by.

“How is it your fault?!” You’d questioned, maybe a little too harshly. You couldn’t believe her words, considering you knew she had never done anything wrong. The girls were rude, you had no idea why, but Mi-Sun had been their target since you both made it to high school. 

She should have known this, and it just made you angry. “They’re the problem, they have always been the problem. They’re rude just because they can be, and for some reason, no one is doing anything to stop it, and—”

“Y/n, just look at me!” You had turned to your friend, her eyes teary, and you should have seen it sooner. “It’s all my fault.” She softly cried before you pulled her into your arms. 

You didn’t see it then, and the way Jungkook spoke now made you feel like you were back in high school, in class, right by the window you both would always sit by as Mi-Sun stared out, the light shining in her eyes growing dimmer as each day passed. 

“Jungkook… you know what continuing would mean…” You looked at him worriedly.

You saw the tears run down his cheeks again as he slowly nodded his head. 

“If anyone were to find out about that night, we could maybe just say we had too much to drink, it was late, or you could even mention your breakdown. Doing anything more would truly turn this into cheating. We’d have no excuses at that point.” Your eyes were sad as you noticed his expression grow more pained.

“And since you’re still trying to make things work with your wife— I just don’t think that’s the smartest idea. If we leave things where they’re at now, it would give us our best chance of going back to normal and putting the whole thing behind us.” 

You could see the consequences coming from a mile away. You knew there would only be trouble going forward. You certainly weren’t a homewrecker by any means. You didn’t want to be the reason things came crashing down.

Jungkook steadily nodded.

“I probably look pathetic right now— I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you or anything considering—” Jungkook was your boss… or well, technically your boss’s boss, but the dynamic was still a little strange. It was all strange. This whole situation was strange. 

But it felt like you were with Mi-Sun all over again. You didn’t see the signs then, but Jungkook was right in front of you. You had the chance to help someone in a way you couldn’t help your friend in high school. What might happen if you just walked away from this now? A repeat? Or maybe something even worse. 

“You don’t look pathetic, and I know you’re not forcing me… it’s just… things are going to get really complicated if we decide to do this.”

The vagueness of your statement was intentional— it’s not like you were saying no, because you weren’t. You really didn’t want to get involved in this, but seeing Jungkook so low… You didn’t think he was pathetic, however hearing him rant like this was just painful. Things weren’t right, and finding out your night together made him feel even the slightest bit better made you want to help him in any way you could. You hated seeing the dark cloud storming over him and his sad, tired gaze anytime you’d meet his eyes. It was difficult to watch, and as reckless as it was, you wanted to do anything to take away his pain just like you had wished you could’ve taken Mi-Sun’s pain away.

Jungkook visibly picked up on the fact that you didn’t outright say no, and part of you hated seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes. This really was a bad idea to even entertain the idea of continuing, but at the same time, it was nice to see his gloom wash away, if only for a second. But that moment only lasted for a second before his expression suddenly changed into something darker, somehow even more disturbed.

“I promise I'll be good.” It was an odd choice of words that immediately caught you off guard. 

“I’ll stay in line, I won’t ask for anything in return. I’ll wait until you want me. I promise I’ll be good, I promise.” It was his last-ditch effort to convince you. He was almost pleading with you. You couldn’t help but look at him strangely, wondering what he meant by that.

“I’ll be good— I have to be good— I don’t want to disappoint you either.” Things had truly taken a turn. Jungkook's expression grew more pained by the second, the cloud that hovered around him stormed with a concerning ferocity. 

“I’ll be good— I promise— I promise I’ll wait.” Jungkook was slipping off an edge you didn’t see coming. The tears so easily slipped past his eyes, an uneasiness behind his desperate gaze. For some reason, you knew deep down this wasn’t coming from nowhere, especially after hearing his rant earlier…

“What do you mea—” But you couldn’t finish your sentence. The wave had already come crashing down over him, and you saw Jungkook fall to pieces first-hand. Even in the subtle light, you could see he was shaking.

“I’ll wait, I’ll wait if you want me to— as long as you need me to— I’ll be good— I promise!” He looked you in the eye, but for some reason you felt like he was looking right through you.

“I don’t want to disappoint you— I’ll be good— I have to be good— I have to— I’ll wait— I promise I’ll wait!” This had turned into a full-blown meltdown. You could see it in the look in his eyes. Something was on his mind, and it was tearing him apart. As much as you wanted to remain as neutral as possible, you couldn’t just stand there anymore and watch this. You quickly made your way around his desk so you were standing right beside him. His hands were back in his hair and his rambling had nearly turned incoherent.

In the low light you could see his hands trembling, and you quickly had to stop the tears from pouring out at that point. You couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through to make him so upset. If this was all a ruse then he deserved to be in Hollywood, but even suggesting that this might be a trick just felt beyond cruel. He was clearly struggling…

“Jungkook— please— please look at me.” You tried to remain calm, but your voice wavered in the middle.

“I’ll be good!” You could barely make his words out through the sobs. 

“Jungkook… please look at me…” You gently tapped him on the shoulder. You were a little calmer this time, and that finally had him turning to face you, breaking him out of his trance.

He was finally looking up at you with his big, round, sad eyes, and your heart nearly broke in two when you saw his lip quiver slightly. He seemed so innocent, yet so broken, and you just wanted to fix him somehow.

You brought your hand up to lightly cup his cheek— they were wet, so, so wet, and as you moved his hair out his face, you could feel the tips had grown damp. Tears steadily continued to pour onto your fingers, but you tried your best to wipe them away. You also didn’t miss the way he practically careened into your warmth.

Such a pretty boy shouldn’t cry like this.

“I’ll wait…” He muttered as he looked at you. This time you knew he was talking to you.

“What do you mean you’ll wait?” You asked gently as you continued to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“As long as you need me to… weeks, months, years. I’ll wait until you want me.” Something about the way he said this, the pain in his voice made it that much more heartbreaking. Weeks were already crazy, but months, years? For some reason, the strain in the way he said this along with what he mentioned earlier, made you think this went deeper than his breakdown.

“I’ll be good, I promise— I’ll wait— I can’t disappoint you too.” He sobbed into your hands. Too? No, this wouldn’t do.

“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked, looking him directly in the eyes. Your question visibly confused him at first, which just made you feel bold enough to go a step further. You looked toward the door before looking back down at him. 

“Are you expecting anyone here any time soon?” 

Confusedly, he shook his head. “It’s lunch right now— Secretary Yu went out to get something to eat and I don’t have any appointments.”

At this news, you let go of his pretty face and grabbed the end of your skirt. It was tight, so you pulled it up slightly before taking a seat right on his lap. You paid close attention to the look on his face, and you saw the panic before you felt it. His confusion turned into worry as he looked down at where you were sitting. He knew you could feel it, a surprise you had not expected when you sat down. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll wait, I promise!” He seemed panicked as he looked at you. His hands hovered over your waist, too scared to push anything further.  He said he’d wait, but he was hard underneath you.

Jungkook’s thoughts had been filled with you even before you walked in. They always were whenever he was in his office these days, the memories returning so vividly as he’d stare at his desk where it happened. 

“I can wait, I promise!” He tried to defend, but his brain was already starting to get fuzzy just from having you on his lap. 

“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked again, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was tense, but you felt him momentarily grab ahold of your waist and pull you a little closer. It would be so easy to kiss him like this.

“I…” His eyes struggled to meet your own. You were so close. He wanted to look and touch everywhere, but he had to think about you. 

“I want to be good— I promise I’ll wait—” He had tears in his eyes as he stared down at where your bodies met. 

“Mmm…. Is that so?” You looked down and you wondered what he meant about waiting. Clearly he needed something now, you could feel it right underneath you. 

Jungkook shakily nodded.

“Until you want me, I’ll wait.” For a second, you ran his proposed arrangement through your head. What kind of affair would that be? Not that you thought about it before, but who’s ever heard of an affair where the guy is at the beck and call of the person he’s cheating with?

It was even more reason to believe he really hadn’t done anything like this before. Something wasn’t right.

“But what do you want?” Again, you asked because you wanted to hear it, but you felt like he needed to say it to himself even more. You could almost see the fear in his eyes as your question lingered. You could feel him shaking underneath you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about… or who.

“To be good…” His eyes only met yours for a second before they trailed down your body. His words were saying one thing, but his eyes were telling you another. Maybe you should help him out a little.

When you started getting closer, Jungkook thought you were going to kiss him. Maybe he wished you did, but what you ended up doing was even more unexpected. Your face grazed past his own and suddenly your lips were brushing against his neck. 

“Oh…” Jungkook felt his cheeks warm, and his hands were gripping your waist before he could stop them. 

You didn’t tease him for long, instead planting gentle, light, feathery kisses along his burning skin. His brain was shot the minute you stepped close, but like this, he was fighting so hard to stop himself from pulling you closer. You felt so good against him, so good, and it was already so hard.

“Y/n…” It came out like a whine and he didn’t mean it to. His eyes were watery, it hurt so much.

“Mhmm” Your voice was soft and—

“Y/n— I’ll wait— I promise, but I’m weak, and please— if you don’t want this… just please go easier on me.” Jungkook finally just cried. This was Yuri all over again. He didn’t want to disappoint you too, not another person. He didn’t need another person to hate him.

“But what about what you want?” You scooted closer, inches away from where he wanted you the most. He thought this would be the moment you’d get off, where you’d tell him to stop crying and scold his very existence. But you didn’t.

Your kisses slowed and you lingered on his skin for longer, lightly sucking spots you somehow discovered were sensitive. Jungkook gripped your hips hard, and he couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. It hurt so much, and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to touch you. This was just cruel.

“Y/n…” Jungkook cried, unable to stop the tears from spilling over.

You pulled back enough to see his face. You saw the tears and quickly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He stared at you wide-eyed, still with that pained look on his face.

“Jungkook, you keep asking what I want, but I want to hear from you. What do you want?” You asked again, softly. You were pressing buttons he didn’t know he had. Why were you being so cruel?

A choked sob left his lips as he held onto your waist tightly. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this. 

Like you were sensing his struggle, you leaned in again and started planting languid kisses along his neck. He didn’t have much resilience anyway, paper-thin might even be an exaggeration with the way he was feeling. You were too close and he was too needy, the days of longing making it impossible to think straight, to resist like he knew he should.

“Y/n…” It came out as a moan as you subtly moved your hips against him. This was a warning, a warning that you clearly ignored because your pace grew faster with each glide of your hips.  Tears poured harder from his eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked when he still hadn’t said anything. 

Jungkook felt his body react faster than his mind did. His arms came up and tightly wrapped around your frame. The thought of you leaving when he felt like he was seconds away from exploding made him panic. 

You were pulled flush against his chest before you could even realize.

“I want you so bad— it hurts so much— please don’t leave me.” He sounded exasperated. He was shaking around you as you could feel the tears running down his face and hitting your cheek.

Shame washed over him as his words settled in the air. He was begging. How sad and pathetic he must have looked. He was all too sure that he’d already ruined things with you. 

You seemed to sense he was spiraling, so you were quick to press gentle kisses up his neck, across his jawline, and steadily made your way across his cheek to settle right beside his quivering lips. 

His sniffling grew quieter as you worked. Instead, soft moans that he was trying to hold back grew stifled and needier. When you made it to his lips, there was a moment of hesitation. But it was truly only for a moment as Jungkook didn’t allow for anymore, finally closing the distance between you.

It happened so fast, you both nearly bumped heads at the speed he moved, and you weren’t prepared for how vigorous his kiss was. Jungkook kissed you like his life depended on it, and in some sense, you feared it really did. 

You were quick getting into it though, matching his rhythm until your lips were moving together in sync. It just felt so right. 

That same warmth Jungkook felt deep down in his chest on that fateful night was back with an overwhelming force. He could have cried— scratch that, he was crying, but for an entirely different reason. 

Your lips were so soft, and with your arms wrapped around him… for a second, all the pain washed away. There was no one else in the world, no worries, it was just you and him together, alone in his office. This felt right in every way possible, and he couldn’t get you close enough. 

The kiss was wet, hot, and you were so needy your body felt like it might burst into flames within a split second. It was destructive and consumed you both so quickly that you had no chance of coming to your senses. This was a bad idea, but you’d think about that later. Instead, you eagerly ground down onto him, making him softly moan into your lips. 

His hands rested on your waist, and you could feel his fleeting attempts to touch you more, but it was like something was holding him back. You pulled away and he really was too pretty, your lipstick was all over his face, his lips shiny and stained red.

“Do you want this?” He suddenly asked, out of breath. For a second his question didn’t even register, because what?

“I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into this. I’ll wait, you could even walk away entirely if you aren’t comfortable doing this.” He spoke with round, sad eyes like he really was concerned. But you could still feel him throbbing underneath you. How he was this hard over a little teasing… you honestly worried for his pants at how well you could feel his aching length. 

“Jungkook…” You sighed, lifting your hand to move his messy bangs away from his eyes. You could see his face a little better and it hurt seeing how red it was, stained with tears, and a sad look behind his dark gaze. 

You leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his cheek before moving your lips right by his ear. 

“Would I be in your lap otherwise?” So soft and sultry in his ear. And he moaned, not holding back at all, completely forgetting you both were still in a public setting. He could have cum just from that alone. But he didn’t care, he was seconds away from losing his mind if something didn’t happen soon.

And then you were back to peppering kisses along his neck, this time going full force at sucking at the skin. 

“Ahhh! Y/n— please!” He hissed, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He was going to explode, he was going to explode, please, please just touch him. 

Jungkook didn’t wait for you to progress things further. He couldn’t find it in himself to be patient. Instead, his hands quickly moved down your waist, the arch of your back, and settled onto the curve of your ass, groping and feeling with a hurried need. 

The motion made you gasp, easily allowing him to slip his tongue inside. It was completely unexpected, especially considering how timid he’d been acting so far, you definitely weren’t prepared. He was the one in control now. It was his tongue that was exploring every inch of your mouth fervently. It was hot and heavy, with a desperation you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. Your hands cupped his cheeks before tightly tangling in his hair, somehow trying to pull him closer. It was this antsy, erupting feeling. You both hidden away from the world while you tried your best to contain yourselves in a public setting. You could feel his excitement through his suit pants which he tried to hide while pulling you closer at the same time. 

“Oh fuck.” He softly moaned into the kiss as your hands found their rightful place in his long, dark hair. You pulled and tugged on the strands, enjoying the soft whines of pleasure Jungkook let out underneath you. 

It was happening so fast, yet not fast enough. Any time you attempted to pull away, he held you closer in his arms. It was hard to keep up, but you weren’t prepared for the heat to consume you so quickly, you felt like you were doused in gasoline. It was insane, and you wanted so much more with each brush of his lips against yours.

You were so in the moment that you weren’t prepared for his hands to go lower, slipping under your skirt to hastily pull it up around your waist. For a moment, it didn’t even register until you began to feel the cold breeze against the newly exposed skin. It was at this that you finally pulled away. 

For a brief moment, Jungkook tried to stop you, but then you felt the building confidence quickly leave his body as he realized something was wrong. He stared up at you, the shininess in his eyes returning all too quickly.

“I—I’m sorry…” His voice was shaking.

“Don’t apologize—”

“I’ll wait, I’m sorry. I’m rushing things, I’m sorry…” It’s like he wasn’t listening all over again as he shakily tried to pull your skirt back down. 

It was then that you realized how this might have looked. 

“It’s not that— it’s just… I know it’s a little hard to forget, but we’re in public… in your office.” You pointed out, and you saw Jungkook’s face grow red as he looked around. It seemed like he really did forget where you were.

“I’m sorry—” He cried, letting go of you entirely. 

“No— we don’t need to stop. Going all the way might not be the best idea, especially in a room without a lock, but I was thinking we could do something a little quicker.” You smiled gently at him. Jungkook was visibly confused at this, so you took this as your cue to slip off his lap and onto your knees right in front of him. 

“Will this work for you?” You smiled up at him mischievously, hoping he got the picture. But for some reason he still was staring down at you with those round eyes that made him look so innocent and… confused?

“What are you doing?” His voice was so small. Your hand was resting on his lap, so close to where he wanted you, and just— why did you have to get off of him?

It was your turn to be confused. 

“You know…” You lightly laughed, thinking this might be some type of joke, but Jungkook still maintained the same perplexed gaze. It was then that your face dropped. Suddenly the possibility of him actually being confused ran through your head.

“You do know what a blowjob is, right?” You were a bit blunt, but honestly you were expecting him to laugh at you. A funny joke in the heat of the moment to make you smile, but instead of the giggle you were expecting, you suddenly watched him get flustered.

“Right…?” You asked again, growing weary. 

“Uh— I do— did? I didn’t think they were a real thing people actually do…” His voice just grew smaller as he looked down at you. He quickly got the picture that wasn’t normal.

You immediately had so many questions. You were the same age, yet….? How, how did this happen? Did someone tell him that? No guy would ever think that without some type of influence. That also meant he probably wasn’t the most experienced, as far as partners go, because you highly doubt people came into his life and never once tried sucking his dick or at least offered. The other day Jungkook did mention he’s only been with his wife, and an uneasy shudder ran through your body as you mentally started connecting the dots. 

“Um— Jungkook, if you’re not comfortable, we could—” 

“No, please! Please don’t stop— I… please…” He cried, grabbing onto your hand that was sitting in his lap, but immediately he was horrified in himself, realizing he was begging again. Yuri always hated that so much. 

“I mean— I mean…” His eyes grew watery. “It just hurts so much…” Jungkook wanted to fuck you on top of his desk again, he was only a moment away from picking you up and doing just that. 

“If you’re comfortable, I won’t stop.” You gave him a warm smile, careful not to frighten or overwhelm him, along with a gentle, reassuring squeeze to his thigh to keep him relatively calm.

Jungkook subtly, but not so subtly, tried to move himself closer to your hand. He was hardly paying attention, his mind completely enthralled with needing some type of relief. He’d take anything at this point.

“Jungkook?” You questioned when he still hadn’t responded.

“P-Please…!” He stammered out, seeing how close your hand was. Just a little closer and he could…

You looked down and noticed his efforts, making you chuckle. “Alright then, I’ll be quick. Just let me know when you’re close.”

Again, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should, but suddenly his eyes went wide as you lightly began running your hands up his thighs. Jungkook moaned at the touch as you ran over the very obvious outline in his slacks. Anything at this point felt so intense. He just needed more.

You were quick to give him just that. As you reached up to start undoing his belt, he finally had to look away, knowing what was coming next. 

You went a little slow, not to just tease him, but to give him a chance to turn back if he got uncomfortable at any moment. You were too fascinated by how tiny his waist looked to notice his growing panic.

Jungkook wanted to scream when you started to unzip his pants— he wanted more, but he was terrified. As he felt you pull him out from his underwear, his eyes grew watery, not needing to look down to feel your gaze. You were staring at him. 

Things were different from the last time. While he had the blinds closed and the lights were low, he knew there was still more than enough light to see him. A wave of anxiety washed over him faster than a tsunami, the dread of your judgment completely taking him out of the moment. He’d only been with two people before. The fear of it not looking right or not being up to your standards was still very real and alive. Maybe that was the reason Yuri didn’t want him, and you have probably experienced so much better— you deserve so much better than anything he could give you— 

His thoughts were spiraling, but you were quick to step in once again, noticing he’d grown tense underneath you. 

You directed your attention to his length that you had firmly grasped in your hand. You marveled at being able to see it in its full glory unlike last time. It was pretty and practically had you drooling, leaving you more than excited to see how it feels in your mouth. It was firm in your grasp and it curved slightly towards the flaming red tip, and you had to stop yourself from moaning at the delicious vein running along the side. 

You stared, maybe for too long, at the way it bopped at the slightest movements and gently started leaking precum onto your hand, steadily dripping to create a small puddle that ran down your skin. Staring wasn’t the right thing to do considering how self-conscious he seemed ,and it took you way too long to look up and see his attention on the ceiling with wet streaks running down his cheeks.

“You’re so pretty, don’t you know that?” You smiled as you slowly started to pump his length. The action was enough to make Jungkook look down at you, moaning at your words, and fuck— The sight was enough to send him to a new dimension and back. You had moved closer so your face was right by where he needed you, and you were touching him so well—

“Y/n…” It was a hushed sob. Any louder and he was scared he’d scream. His tears were now streaming for an entirely different reason. It was quick and all these emotions were swirling around in his head. It was too much and he wanted you to stop it.

Your strokes were slow, but it really didn’t take much. It had been too long, too much running away and edging; he just wanted relief.

“Y/n—” He cried again, this time more desperate. He was shaking.   

You put him out of his misery only slightly as you used your thumb to rub over the slit and marveled at the way more precum continued to leak over your finger with each swipe.

“Oh— fuck.” He whined, shifting around so you’d touch him more. His hands were balled into tight fists as he watched you, knuckles turning white in the process. Part of him wanted to look away in shame, but you commanded his attention in a way that he couldn’t turn anywhere else. 

You met his shameful gaze as you looked up at him with glistening eyes, and Jungkook hated how much he wanted to ruin you all over again. Leave you a mess so his colleagues could see how horrible he was. 

Jungkook was on edge and you had barely touched him. You could tell he was growing antsy, so you finally moved so that you were mere centimeters away from his pleading cock. The sight alone could have made him cum. You, staring up at him with eager, excited eyes, and as he looked down at you, a guttural sound escaped his lips before he could catch it. 

There was only a moment of hesitation, a moment that dragged on for eternity. With your gaze, you were waiting to see if he had any doubts about continuing, but Jungkook held on with bated breath, giving no signs of wanting to stop. 

He was a little confused… no, that wasn’t right… anxious? He hardly had a clue what to expect. He knew what a blowjob was… kinda? He knew what they were from videos he saw when he was younger, but everyone always talked about how exaggerated they were. He had no idea what a real blow job was like and what to expect. How long had it been since the thought even crossed his mind? He couldn’t remember anymore.

Jungkook was in his head again, but the very sudden feeling of your tongue quickly swiping across the tip briskly jolted him back into the moment, making him nearly jump out of his chair. 

Oh.

He didn’t even realize he had said it out loud, and at a volume that was far too loud, until the soft sounds of your chuckles got his attention. 

“Can’t be too loud~” You smiled, and Jungkook felt his whole body set ablaze with an inferno he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 

“Just let me know when you’re close—” you reminded him once again. He wondered if you could tell he wouldn’t last long. You would be right. “Sit back, relax. I’ll take care of you.” You smiled. 

Jungkook had to take a moment to stare at you. Your eyes shone from his desk lamp, your lipstick had already started to smear across your lips from your heated activities earlier, and your hair grew more disheveled by the second. Your invitation to relax and let you essentially take care of him made shivers run up his spine, and he couldn’t nod for you to continue any faster. 

He listened to your advice and finally leaned back in his office chair, waiting for you to have your way with him. The moment he got more comfortable, you were back on him, his cock in hand as you leaned in once again to give a teasing lick to the tip. 

Ohhhhhh—

He didn’t mean to, but you were teasing him too much. You probably thought it was pathetic how he practically chased after your mouth when you pulled away. It wasn’t long before you were back though, slowly swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty precum that continued to leak with each swipe of your tongue, while looking intently at his antsy reactions.

“Ahhhh! Please—” Jungkook had tears in his eyes as he pleaded for you. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. This, fuck— this—

He probably had imprints on his hands from his nails at how tightly he had balled up his fists. Jungkook looked down at you, not wanting to rush you or beg, but he felt like he was at his limit.

Finally, you put him out of his misery. It came unexpectedly. Your gentle licks turned into you engulfing the tip with your mouth. You were slow. You didn’t want to overwhelm him considering this was meant to be his first time.

“Oh, fu—” Jungkook quickly covered his mouth. His fist tightened to the point he could feel his nails digging into his skin. His tears finally spilled as the overwhelming pleasure washed over him as you tried to take more of him down. It was new, a euphoria he had never experienced before, seeing you on your knees pleasing him, taking him so well… it was too sinful to be allowed. And you just kept going, further and further down and—

“Wai—oh my go—” Jungkook tried to whisper, but he was way too loud. He was going to cum. It was like he was suddenly pushed to the edge. He knew he was close, but not that close. 

“Oh—” He moaned. Your mouth was so warm, wet, and inviting. It reminded him too much of the fleeting memory of what it felt like to be inside you. Jungkook quickly had to shut his eyes, focusing all his concentration on not having this end so soon after you just started. The embarrassment— he couldn’t do that to you. But—

“Fuck!”

You went as far as you could before steadily easing back and popping off him to see how he took it. You knew he had been shaking, but you weren’t prepared for his look of distress. 

“You ok?” You lightly chuckle, caressing his thigh— and, woah, were you in for a surprise feeling how firm they were. How much did this boy work out?

You watched as tears slipped from his eyes. “Umm-mm-m,” his voice was shaky as he finally opened his eyes to look at you.

“Can— can you go slow? I won’t make it two seconds otherwise…” He was quiet and sounded out of breath already. His round cheeks were flushed and he could barely look you in the eye.

“It’s all about you. Don’t worry about it too much. Like I told you, sit back and relax. You can let go whenever you’re ready.” You smiled. All you wanted him to do was relax and enjoy it. He seemed so tense, he always seemed so tense. You couldn’t imagine what he must be going through for him to practically be in pieces, always on the verge of tears any time you’d just look at him.

Even now… You finally noticed his tightly balled fist, and he just seemed so tense— too tense for someone who was about to get sucked off. You quickly wrapped one hand around his length again and used the other to grab one of his fists and place it on your head. 

You didn’t want him to think too much, so you quickly took him into your mouth again. He must have understood what you meant because his hand was suddenly in your hair, and electricity ran through your body at the satisfying moan he let out. It was loud, almost like it was meant for anyone to hear. For a moment, you forgot you were in his office in the middle of everyone’s lunch break. That anyone could walk in at any time if you weren’t careful. It seemed you weren’t the only one. 

The moment was short-lived. Jungkook quickly brought his hand back over his mouth to stop himself from making any more noise. The moan caught in his throat was muffled, but you could still sense the urgency in his tone without hearing him fully.  

Each time you bobbed your head up and down, his reactions fueled you to push further. Jungkook was trying to be subtle, you could tell, and it was almost cute how soft he was. Your hand wrapped around his length to stroke whatever your mouth couldn’t take. He whimpered underneath you each time your lips came down around him, and you picked up on the cute way he lightly gripped your hair with each movement you made. It was so subtle, careful not to squeeze too hard, but you could feel when he wanted more.

Jungkook couldn’t even comprehend the emotions flowing through his body, all new sensations that made every touch you gave him feel so intense. He was barely making it as it was, but this was so new, and he just couldn’t—

“Y/n— I’m close…” He sobbed. He felt worse when you stopped momentarily to look at him because you had barely started. You were only a few strokes in and he had tried his best to push past and enjoy it as long as possible, but it was already too much, and—

“I’m sorry…” He cried, that creeping embarrassment washing over him with vigor. He was prepared for you to say something demeaning. Mocking that he could hardly last, that he was a disappointment, that you regretted doing this with him. He was ready for the painful words he’d grown so used to lately, but they never came as you popped off him with a smile. 

“Let go whenever you’re ready.” Your eyes were warm, and for a second he felt all fuzzy inside because it was more compassion than he deserved. 

He felt his eyes grow watery, but right before you were about to finish him off, a sound Jungkook recognized too well filled the emptiness of his office. The blaring ring of the phone that sat on his desk made you both freeze. In an instant, the thin veil you both wore over your eyes, shielding you from the outside world, was ripped away. 

You and Jungkook just stared at each other. An intense fear came over the both of you, but in the moment, Jungkook knew he had to act. He hurriedly tried to pull himself together enough so he could answer the call. With a worried glance sent in your direction, Jungkook slowly picked up the phone.

“H-Hello?” His voice cracked, the strain from all the crying earlier taking its toll at the worst time possible.

“Oh— sir, are you ok?” It was Secretary Yu. 

“Yeah— I’m fine. Is something up?” Jungkook rushed her. With the reassurance it was just his secretary and not an executive, an uncontrollable anger started boiling over at something coming in the way of his relief…

“I’m sorry to interrupt you! I know you’re on your lunch break, but Director Lee is here to see you about a supposed emergency.” Her tone sounded like she felt bad, but Jungkook was more focused on what she said.

He looked down at you, staring wide-eyed at him, waiting for the news.

“Um— can you just tell him to come back later?” Jungkook threaded his fingers through his hair, stressed and unable to hide the annoyance in his voice any longer.

“He says it’s urgent.” She already had an answer, knowing her boss well.

“Fuck.” Jungkook groaned as quietly as he could. It was crude language for work, but his secretary was used to it by now, often on the receiving end of frustrated rants when censoring himself was the least of his concerns. 

“Can you give us—  me a few minutes?” A slip of the tongue, remembering he was technically the only one supposed to be in here. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice. 

“Of course, just call back when you’re ready.” And with that, she hung up and the countdown began.

As soon as she was gone, Jungkook resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. Of course the one day he wasn’t in here by himself, Director Lee just had to show up. It probably wasn’t even an actual emergency. He had a habit of doing this from time to time in order for an excuse to speak to Jungkook, and of course this “emergency” had to happen today.

Jungkook looked down at you and debated whether or not there was any conceivable possibility of finishing before Director Lee came in. He was already so close, just a little longer and he’d be putty in your hands.

“What’s going on?” You finally asked when he hadn’t said anything.

“Director Lee’s outside. He says it’s an emergency.” Jungkook felt like crying. He was so close. 

You looked around, panicked, because there was no way you looked presentable, and Jungkook looked more than a little disheveled with his shiny lips and your lipstick all over his face. Instead of thinking about it too much, you hurriedly got to your feet, knees a little shaky from being on them for so long, but that didn’t stop you as you quickly tried to help clean Jungkook up. 

He looked up at you with wide eyes as you used your fingers to wipe away the red stains littered all over his cheeks, lips, and neck. His eyes were glossy and you had to resist the urge to kiss that look off his face knowing that would just leave marks again, but you let your thumb lightly caress his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll finish when he leaves.” You reassured him as you tried to help fix his ruffled hair, moving the strands back in place and out of his eyes. 

Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest so hard he was almost sure you could hear it. His mind was a mess, and the affection just made him want you even more. He would give anything to have you bent over his desk right now. 

He looked presentable, at least enough so that in the dim light hopefully Director Lee wouldn’t question anything. You, though… Where were you going to hide? You looked around.

Your first instinct was to hide behind the blinds, but that would never work in a million years. There was really nowhere in his office you could hide without it being incredibly ridiculous except…

“You think I could fit under there?” You asked quickly, pointing to the spot underneath Jungkook’s desk. It would be a tight fit, but there weren’t any better options.

Jungkook moved out of the way, and with a little maneuvering as you tried your best to find the most comfortable position, you were able to slide underneath. In the meantime, Jungkook went through the painful process of trying to tuck himself back into his pants.

He had tears in his eyes as he struggled for a moment. It was so hard, he was so hard, that at this point trying to get himself back in was more than a task. And his touch… anything could have set him off, but he worked carefully so he wouldn’t end up making a mess in his hands. He couldn’t disappoint you. But it hurt. It hurt so much that at this point, he just had to make do with leaving his pants unzipped because no way in hell he would be able to get them closed. 

With you squished under his desk and he now looking normal enough for this short meeting, Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he scooched closer to his desk. 

“You— you ok down there?” He asked quickly. 

“Yeah, just don’t be too long.” You called out. Jungkook spread his legs a little wider to give you more room.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but at least the view made up for it. 

“I’ll try and make this quick. I’m so sorry…” Jungkook sighed, evidently frustrated. Of all days, this had to happen when he had been so close… so fucking close. Director Lee better have an actual emergency. He had a habit of coming in and claiming “emergencies” when really, he just wanted to talk. Jungkook knew what he was doing, trying to get into his favor in hopes of getting into his dad’s good graces, hoping for a promotion soon or after Jungkook was meant to take over. 

It was annoying under normal circumstances, but if he was trying to do the same thing now… Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm himself before finally picking up the phone again. 

“Hey… yeah, you can send him in, but please tell him I’m busy and to make it quick.” You intently listened to his words and while Jungkook had tried to stay calm, you could still clearly hear the agitation in his voice.

It was cute. Maybe a little hot too? You shook the thought out of your head, not liking it at all. 

With bated breath, you listened to the sound of the door creek open and the hurried clicks of dress shoes slowly coming closer to the desk. Director Lee was alright in your opinion. He was one of the executives in marketing, but you weren’t sure exactly what he did. He was fine at his job, but he would talk for hours about the most obscure thing. You hadn’t really talked to him much, just seen him at the few meetings you’d attended so far as another executive, but hopefully—

“Head Director Jeon!” Director Lee’s cheerful voice rang out. Jungkook had tried to make himself look busy, quickly shaking his computer awake and mindlessly scrolling over some random document he had open before his breakdown. 

Jungkook almost rose to his feet on instinct, ready to greet him with a polite bow, but luckily he caught himself before the situation ended less than favorable. Instead, he kept himself busy before finally meeting Director Lee’s eyes. 

“Director Lee! I’m sorry for the wait.” Jungkook tried to smile as the man himself came over, bowing quickly before taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

Great. That likely meant this wouldn’t take only two seconds. Jungkook just hoped that wasn’t the case, nor did he notice the lack of greeting.

“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re busy, but there were just a few questions I had from marketing for you.” Director Lee smiled, and Jungkook let out a sigh of relief knowing this was actually about work. 

You were somewhat listening. You picked up on a few things you’d hear marketing discuss in the meetings you attended, but most of it went over your head. You honestly had hoped that this was only going to be a few questions, but you were always wrong. 

At some point, Jungkook briefly mentioned wanting to travel. They had been discussing something about the EU branch located in Germany, leading to Director Lee talking about the time he took his family there when he was on a business trip. Jungkook had quickly mentioned his desire to travel more, and then suddenly he was being handed Director Lee’s phone to look through all the pictures of the Lee family during their trips to all these faraway places. 

Although Jungkook did a good job at remaining calm in front of Director Lee, you could see the way his leg bounced restlessly as he listened to the director talk about the time his family went to Budapest from your position underneath the desk. You wanted to calm him down a little and without thinking too deeply, you placed a reassuring hand on his thigh, gently running your hand along it, letting him know you were still here. 

You hadn’t been paying too much attention to their conversation. After all, it wasn’t meant to be one you were a part of, and you tried your best to give them a little privacy. But right in that moment, you noticed the way Jungkook stopped talking momentarily about business trips as your hand trailed up his leg, before slowly dragging back into the conversation. 

Oh. You liked that a little too much.

Your reassurance was only meant to be quick, a very brief reminder that you were here, but you kept going, your hand going up further, up his thigh to where his open zipper laid. For a brief moment, you considered stopping. Director Lee was right there, but as you started pulling your hand away, suddenly another was wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements. 

It took a moment to realize it was Jungkook. You stared for a while, his tight grip fleeting as he lightly placed your hand back on his thigh, all while he continued on with Director Lee. It was just enough to give you the confidence to go further. Luckily Jungkook made it easy for you.

You were a little too eager slipping into his pants, pulling him out ever so gently, and feeling him in your grasp again. Jungkook immediately had his hand around your wrist the minute your fingers brushed against him. 

It was a warning, a fleeting one, one you could tell even he wasn’t sure about. For a moment you were sure his hand was trying to pull you closer. 

You had some common sense— you had no intention of getting him so riled up that Director Lee would walk around the desk to see you cramped underneath Jungkook’s desk playing with his cock. As much as you’d love to watch him squirm while he tried his best to remain composed, you also wanted to walk out of here with a job. You knew your limits.

You were subtle at first, You watched and listened intently as your thumb lightly traced over the tip. You got another instant reaction, his hand quickly tightening around your wrist, and you heard his voice waver slightly. 

Your efforts were slow and controlled. You didn’t want him to scream, but you did want him to feel it. Slow light touches grazed up his skin, so delicate, as you made sure he’d never forget you were here. It was nice, as he returned faint squeezes around your wrist. 

“You and your wife should come with us one day!” Director Lee bellowed out with a hearty laugh after Jungkook faintly wished he could have been there for that experience. The conversation had moved to Alaska and the Northern Lights now… you had no idea how they got on that topic. You were startled slightly by the sudden outburst. Your hand slipped and suddenly his fingers were laced in your hair and underneath the laughter, your ears instantly locked onto a subtle moan. 

Jungkook was quick to cover it with a cough that Director Lee seemingly didn’t notice. At this point, you feared you had gone a little too far accidently. You were going to call it quits until Director Lee left, but as your grip loosened, suddenly his hand was on your wrist again stopping you in your tracks. 

He didn’t want you to stop, and you wanted to please him. 

You pushed past your hesitation, instead deciding to get even more bold. You leaned forward enough to the point you were face to face with his weeping cock once again. You took it in your hand and lightly ran your tongue along the tip. You were instantly rewarded with his hand lacing into your hair, and you wished you could have seen his face. 

You listened to the way his breathing grew heavier with each swipe of your tongue. You also noticed the subtle way he’d try to keep your head down longer any time you came up. As wrong as it might be, it was hot, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so was he. 

He was painfully hot, so hot you once again found yourself wondering how you didn’t notice sooner. You honestly probably didn’t want to, your hatred blinding you from both his suffering and anguish as well as his… nice composition. That wasn’t entirely true… you knew that he was conventionally attractive, maybe a little more so than most, but looks meant nothing when he was being petty to you. Now that you were exposed to the cracks in his façade, you could push past your turbulent history and acknowledge the fact you understood the stares he received when he’d walk around the office and the swooning no matter his questionable leadership. You got it more than anyone now that you’d gotten a glimpse behind his sad gaze. 

Unfortunately, you understood it too much. Watching him try not to fall apart in front of the director made the ache between your legs apparent, and you wanted nothing more than to take him right there in his office. But this wasn’t about you; it was about him. You wanted that sad look behind his eyes to disappear, even just for a second. But later tonight you just might need to revisit an old friend you kept in your bottom drawer. A reunion was more than necessary at this point.

Curse him.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook should have stopped you, he knew that. This was embarrassing, the highest level of inappropriate he could have achieved, but he felt like he’d reached such a breaking point that he simply didn’t care. All he could think about was the orgasm that he was on the verge of having before you were interrupted. The minute you had your hand on him he never wanted it to leave. 

At this point, he was this close to screaming at Director Lee to leave. But he rambled on and on about all the excursions he took his family on whenever he got some time off. Jungkook tried his best to smile and nod along whenever he made eye contact, but the minute you had your tongue running along him, he could barely keep it together. 

Jungkook wondered how Director Lee hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t doing a good job hiding that something was up. Jungkook was struggling to keep his eyes open as your lips wrapped around him with the subtle flicks of your hand. At this point, Director Lee probably thought he had some type of cold by how much he had to cough to stop himself from moaning out for you to make him cum. 

He felt delirious, like he was looking over the precipice of a high-rise and the world around him started to spin as he tried to make out the ground down below. He was so close. So close to finally getting the release he’d been craving for days. So close, but of fucking course Director Lee just had to come into his office now.

“I’m sure Ms. Han would love Barcelona!” For some reason, Director Lee had already started planning out a trip that Yuri and him were meant to join with his family. Jungkook practically had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying that the last thing he wanted to think about was Yuri when he had you underneath his desk pleasing him so well. He didn’t want to think of anything; no work, no business, he just wanted to cum… why was that so hard?!

“I’m sure she—she—she… would.” Your tongue had licked right over the slit and he was horrible at pretending he wasn’t on the verge of losing it. You felt so good.

Your efforts weren’t enough to get him to cum yet, something he felt was intentional. But the longer he had to stare at Director Lee’s face, the more he was starting to care less and less about the world around him. He just wanted—

Please.

“It’s honestly beautiful— I went there when I was fifteen. It was a high school trip I’m pretty sure, and—” Blah blah blah, if he wasn’t out of his face in the next two minutes…

He didn’t want to hear about this trip. Spending any time with Director Lee outside of a work context felt like a nightmare. Jungkook knew that he’d probably end up spending less time with Yuri than Director Lee, talking his head off about some random thing he’s convinced they have in common. It maybe wouldn’t be so bad if Jungkook didn’t know his type as well as he did. It was all an attempt at trying to fast-track a promotion. Director Lee probably didn’t care about him at all, or the things they had in common, and would actually hate for Yuri and him to be there on his family trip. This conversation was pointless.

“And we’d have to go hiking across the… sights are so beautiful… the pictures I took were—”

“O-oohhh-oh…” It was a quiet, hushed moan and Jungkook quickly had to blink away the tears that had started to settle in his eyes at the strain of keeping it together. You had finally taken the whole tip and Jungkook was just getting worse and worse at covering up his moans. The cough that followed was a little slow, and he probably sounded in as much pain as he felt.

He wanted to see you, wanted to touch you.

“Head Director Jeon, are you ok?” Director Lee feigned concerned. He always insisted on calling him his full title instead of the more casual “Director Jeon” that everyone else used and he preferred. He would even choose the awkward “Mr. Jeon,” despite it making him feel weird since he was younger than the majority of the staff he worked with, over the full title. He hated people using it for no other reason than it always just felt like just an attempt to get in his good graces.

“Fine— just…” deep breaths… “The cold’s started to get to me slightly…” Jungkook tried to laugh, but his eyes were getting watery. He probably looked like a mess. He wanted you to make him into an even bigger one than he already was. 

“Oh! If you’re sick, I know a great tea recipe that would—” Jungkook couldn’t pay attention any longer than two seconds. He couldn’t stop imagining what might happen the minute Director Lee left, what you might do, and the blissful release afterward. He just wanted you, please, please, please…

He couldn’t do this anymore.

“— Director Lee, I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” it hurts so much “but I’m pretty busy today…” Jungkook tried to be nice, but he really was worried what he might do if Director Lee wasn’t out the door in the next five seconds.

Director Lee looked shocked for a second. He wasn’t expecting that. Usually Jungkook would always put up with his bullshit even though he despised the mooching, but today any longer and Jungkook would seriously cause a scene. 

Jungkook attempted to put on the best, most apologetic smile he could muster as the Director processed his words. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Your secretary mentioned you were busy before I came in.” Jungkook nearly jumped for joy when Director Lee finally got up from the chair in front of him. 

Director Lee bowed politely and Jungkook once again had to resist the urge to get up and bear him a respectful farewell, but that was out of the question right now. Instead, Jungkook bowed his head slightly, hoping the director wouldn’t think too much of it.

“I’ll be in contact about how things go at the US branch,” Director Lee mentioned and Jungkook had nearly forgotten that he had first come in with an actual reason. Aside from discussing some things about marketing, Director Lee had wanted to go over some information before he left for the US branch tomorrow, and that’s how they ended up talking about travel. It was then when Director Lee mentioned how his family just came back from London and he was flying out again.

Jungkook only nodded, nervous that if he spoke at this point the only thing that would come out was an embarrassing plea for you to make him cum. But to his delight, Jungkook watched Director Lee make his way to the door. You must have heard him leaving because the minute the sounds of his footsteps echoed off the marble floors, you quickly kicked it up five notches, finally putting Jungkook out of his misery and taking him down your throat again. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered closed as he took it all in. Your mouth brought so many new sensations, he was having trouble keeping up. It felt good, and deep down he selfishly relished in it all. 

“Have a good day, Head Director Jeon.” Director Lee bowed and Jungkook wanted to scream at him to leave, but instead he sent another pained smile and a slight wave his way. 

When he heard the door close, Jungkook let his head fall to his desk. Silent besides the now obvious sounds of you shifting underneath the desk. It hurt so much, he just wanted to—

“Please, please, please make me cum!” A hushed sob escaped as the tears finally spilled from his eyes. He was shameless and his ears felt hot with embarrassment, but for a moment he didn’t care, he just wanted to cum. 

He felt you gently tap his leg and he finally remembered that you were cramped down there. He quickly rolled his chair back, giving you the opportunity to climb out from under the desk. He watched with hungry eyes as you stretched your tense limbs. Even fully clothed, just watching your body move under your blouse was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 

Get it together, Jeon. But he couldn’t, he wanted you so badly— his watery eyes stared as you moved back into a comfortable position between his legs. 

“Please— please— I’m so close.” He cried. 

You looked at him with those kind eyes and gave him a warm smile that tingled more than just his heart. 

“I got you, just let go when you’re ready.” You didn’t even give him a chance to answer before you took him in completely. Jungkook couldn’t stop the moan that fell his lips at the warmth and wetness your mouth provided. It was amazing, you were amazing, you always were. Your pace was quick this time, sensing his urgency. It was probably only a few seconds before that growing feeling returned, this time with no plans of stopping. 

“C-close!” Jungkook hurried out, but he feared you couldn’t understand him with how mangled it came out.

Jungkook let one hand tangle in your hair, needing to grab ahold of something, while the other came over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. For a second, he worried if he was doing this right, was he embarrassing himself right now? Did you hate him? Did you resent him for pulling you into this? This was all so new, he didn’t want to mess things up, but he couldn’t think clearly and hardly had the capacity to care right now.

Jungkook finally found the strength to look down, the sight of you taking him so well caused sparks to run through his body, making it impossible to delay the inevitable.

“Your mouth!” It came out a little louder than he wanted it to, but it was meant to be a warning. He was close, and if you didn’t move away soon then… He thought you’d move off of him, maybe finish him off by hand, but instead you sped up your pace despite his warning. For a second, Yuri flashed in his head, and the sheer utter fear of disappointing you like he’d done to her so many times came crashing down like a wave in a storm. 

As he sped toward the edge, he tried his best to delay it until you could get off of him. Yuri would hate the mess and he feared your reaction— no, he had to last just a little longer—

“Y/n, I’m serious, I’m—” His efforts were fruitless. The tears in his eyes finally spilled over; the pleasure and the guilt grew overwhelming. His body was on fire, and the sheer relief of having you this close made the end come all too quickly.

Jungkook kept his hand clamped over his mouth, but his attempt was futile as moans still slipped from his lips. They were muffled, nonsensical, and sounded as pained as he felt, the blinding hot release spreading throughout his entire body and ultimately into your mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks, his grip in your hair growing tighter as you steadily worked him through his orgasm.

“Fu—oh—go—fuck.” There weren’t words to describe how good he felt.

He could feel his release paint your mouth, a horrible mix of shame and something else he didn’t want to admit bubbling in the depths of his mind. His whole body shook, even after what felt like an endless stream of his release filled your mouth. Wave after wave of tears just kept coming because finally… fucking finally.

He momentarily forgot where you both were and who he was. It just felt so good to forget. It was the freedom he craved when he was alone sometimes. But this was wrong, he knew it was.

As the wave started to die down, instead of a graceful landing, he practically crashed with how quickly new tears started spilling from his eyes. His muffled moans turned into sobs and he couldn’t bear to look down at you. He didn’t want to see your disappointment. You were already so kind, and he just had to go and ruin it because he couldn’t wait until you had moved off of him. 

“Jungkook, you ok?” Your voice was laced with concern as he felt your hand running along his thigh.

“I’m sorry!” Jungkook just sobbed. His face was wet, and his hair was soaked with tears and sweat. He knew he looked like a mess.

There was a moment of silence while you tried to rack your brain for what he was talking about. “Why are you sorry?” You were so gentle, hating how upset he seemed. 

“I tried to— I tried to wait— I’m so sorry!” He choked out, trying to be quiet as Secretary Yu was right outside, but the shame that crept over his body made it hard to stay in control.

You looked notably shocked.

“I told you that you could cum whenever you were ready,” you chuckled, rubbing his leg gently. 

“That’s not— your mouth… I came inside— I’m sorry.” Jungkook finally looked down and you could see just how distraught he seemed, the wetness around his eyes more than heartbreaking. Finding a little strength, you finally rose to your feet. Your knees were achy, but you persevered so you could face him a little better. 

You took the initiative and brought your finger up to his chin so he’d look at you. His eyes were shiny, red, and filled with a sadness you couldn’t quite comprehend. This wasn’t how this was meant to end.

“You don’t need to apologize for something I wanted.” You gently rubbed your thumb along his wet cheek. Your cheeks burned from the confession, but you were glad you said it when you saw the tension fall from his soft features. 

“H-huh?” 

“Maybe I should have asked, but I thought it was best to avoid any mess.” Might he have preferred it more if he painted your face? The image in your mind made your face even hotter, not exactly against the idea if you didn’t have to worry about walking out in front of your coworkers.

“I thought I messed up already… made you disappointed, that you— you’d hate me too.” Just the word hate made his eyes watery all over again. He’d heard it too many times from Yuri, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before he heard it from you too.

It was then you realized what he was referring to, that he thought somehow cumming in your mouth was a mistake he made? It was crazy and reaffirmed that Jungkook was telling the truth when he said it was his first time having someone go down on him. But that was the least of your worries, instead, the harsh words he’d expected as retribution stood out to you more than anything. The truth of the reasoning behind his sad eyes, why his dimpled smile never appeared anymore, and the sense of what might be happening behind closed doors grew more terrifying the more he spoke to you. 

“Just wanted you to feel good— I can’t hate you for that.” You smiled, and you were a little shocked when you suddenly felt his hands on your waist pull you closer.

“Did it feel good?” You giggled at the affection, but your face was burning. This isn’t what you expected from him. 

Instead of answering, Jungkook tugged you down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

“Thank you…” He shakily sighed. You couldn’t truly understand the relief you brought him. It was his gratitude for everything— for being here with him, for putting up with his pathetic desperation, for making the thoughts that clouded his mind dissipate for only a second, and the list could go on really. You seriously were as amazing as he imagined. 

“I didn’t know… it just— it felt so good, thank you… thank you.” He sweetly mumbled into your blouse. You would have never pictured Jungkook as the affectionate type, and your body and mind were struggling to keep up. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, instead choosing to just be there for him. If this is what he wanted, you’d happily oblige, doing whatever it took to make him feel better— to fix him. 

“No need to thank me— if anything, thank you.” You laughed. You were just as guilty as Jungkook. All you could think about since Tuesday was Jungkook’s body pressed against yours in a heat of emotion. You thought giving him the cold shoulder would be enough to forget it all, but you were so easily pulled back in. You hated it, right now you wanted to avoid the consequences, but you couldn’t stop the growing warmth spreading through your body seeing him feel a little better. 

You expected him to laugh along with you, but Jungkook’s gaze just held onto yours before his eyes started traveling down to where your bodies met. You were a little confused at first, but once his eyes met yours again, you realized you knew that look all too well. 

Oh?

You watched with curious eyes as he started leaning in, curious what he might do considering how timid he was earlier. Maybe it was because he was still riding the high you gave him only minutes ago, but this time he easily pulled you in to meet his lips. 

He was so gentle, he always was. You quickly realized you liked the way his kisses felt, the way he held you close. You didn’t hate it; you couldn’t hate this at all. The soft moment was over quickly though, as his hands started running along your body, instantly making the simmering flame reignite inside you. Your hands quickly found a place running through his long, damp hair, pulling him closer because the last thing you wanted right now was to be away from him. 

All of a sudden, Jungkook wrapped his hands around you and hoisted you up onto the desk. He was standing between your legs, much like the position you found yourselves in a few days ago. Then his lips were on your neck, light, but more than enough for a soft moan to leave your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was hot, and the urge to pull him closer was growing painful at this point.

“I want to make you feel good too,” Jungkook softly whispered against your skin. Dangerous, the words were so dangerous, and you wondered if he noticed the way your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, wanting to make that very wish come true.

“You’ve been so good to me— it feels so unfair, like I'm being too selfish. You’ve made me feel so good, you should too.” This is certainly not what you were expecting out of this interaction. You had imagined that since Jungkook was cheating on his wife with you, this was all going to be about the indulgence he couldn’t get from his wife.  You were just the method he’d use to get himself off. It’s not like you entirely hated the idea of him using you for relief, you were here to help him after all, though anytime you’d think about it as an affair it made you sick. But you never thought there was anything in it for you. 

Jungkook’s warm hands sliding up your thigh took you out of your thoughts, steadily pushing up your skirt in the process. When he held you like this, it was easy to forget where you were. 

You placed your hand on his, stopping him from pushing it any further. You noticed his eyes glance down, and suddenly panic spread across his features as he quickly grew noticeably flustered.

“Oh— was I being too pushy? I’m sor—” You quickly shushed him, not wanting him to overthink it.

“It’s just— we’re still in your office in the middle of a work day,” you pointed out. It was easy to forget that in the heat of emotions. Plus, Jungkook had the blinds closed, the lamp on his desk the only lighting for the room. But the glimmer of sunshine slipping in from underneath the blinds was the sole indication that it was, in fact, the middle of the afternoon on a perfect, cloudless, sunny day.

Jungkook looked over at the windows as well, and you noticed the way his face flushed. It seemed he had forgotten as well. 

“Ohhhh, right.” Jungkook shyly mumbled, clearly a little disappointed. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize. I honestly want to take you up on the offer— just not here where someone might walk in again.” At the mere mention of Jungkook touching you, your body remembered how his fingers felt inside you that night. Despite his clear lack of experience being on the receiving end of pleasure, Jungkook somehow knew how to touch you in a way that made you see stars. 

Jungkook pulled you a little closer. “I know a place— uh, only if you’re interested.” He quickly added, always so polite. 

You gave him a look that told him to keep going. 

“It’s a storage closet for most of the cleaning supplies and sometimes additional things for the office. Only the janitors use the room, but they hardly go in there since it’s not really a janitor's closet. They mainly use it for restocks of their supplies. Plus, no one can come in without the required access,” Jungkook explained, and it sounded perfectly like what you needed. 

“I’m assuming that means you have access then?” You looked down at the lanyard he had sitting on his desk. 

“I’m the only one aside from the janitors.” He shyly smiled.

You thought about it for a second before hopping off the desk. “Alright then, sounds like a plan. I have a meeting to get to and some work to do— but are you free at four?” You asked, trying your best to smooth down your hair and clothes.

Jungkook moved out of the way slightly, and from the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze scanning over your body. You couldn’t stop the smirk spreading across your face.

“Uhhhh…” For a second, you wondered if waiting until four was too big of an ask. 

“I can wait— yeah— four’s ok.” There was a shakiness to his words that made it seem like he didn’t entirely believe himself. He really was too cute.

You focused on trying to get yourself back to normal, working on your hair with only your hands as best you could. Jungkook helped you get the smeared lipstick off your face, and you helped him with a similar problem along with taming his hair and fixing his shirt so it didn’t look like you’d been tugging on it for the last half hour. 

In the end, you were able to get yourself to look somewhat decent. You realized way too late that Jungkook had a mirror in his office and you were able to address the details that he might not have seen. Jungkook looked good too. Well, he always did, but maybe you might say he looked even better than when you first walked in?

He had this cute, dopey grin on his face, and the way you had messed up his hair made the soft curls cascade around his face in a way that made him look incredibly ethereal. He had what some might call a ‘glow,’ and it didn’t take much speculation to figure out what it might have been from.

A swell of pride filled your chest, along with a bit of relief knowing you were able to make him feel better, even if only for a short amount of time. 

Your goodbye was brief. You knew your coworkers, Taehyung and Solmi especially, would be looking for you by now.

“See you at four,” you mentioned as you took one last look in the mirror. Jungkook had told you where the closet was, and he was sitting on his desk looking at you while you finished getting ready.

“Mhmmm” He lulled. “Can’t wait~” It was a shy admission that made this cute, boyish grin appear on his face.

You had to get out of here.

“Alright then, don't forget to eat lunch!” By the look on his face at your words, you knew he probably hadn’t even thought about it. 

“Don’t forget… you’re on your lunch break after all.” You reaffirmed, knowing there was a chance he’d still forget even after your reminder. 

“I won’t… see you later.” That same dopey smile appeared on his face and you had to physically tear yourself away so you could finally leave. Curse him and that face of his.

You were finally able to leave. You hastily sped past Secretary Yu, and in the corner of your eye, you caught her confusion at your sudden departure. You could only hope she hadn’t heard anything. You don’t know how long she was there…

•────•──────────•────•

Maybe you should have just taken Jungkook up on his offer to take you right there on his desk again. You had underestimated your own ability to wait. Jungkook had riled you up too much. Watching him lose himself from your mouth, with his eager need to reciprocate, made you excited. 

You hated it. You hated this. Just like that night, you had left his office feeling good, but once you made it back to your desk, those feelings of guilt and shame came back all over again. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that this was a married man you were messing with. He had a wife, and you were jeopardizing any chance of their relationship ever improving. The thought of being a homewrecker, the other woman, made your skin crawl. You hated it.

This was wrong, and that was all you should be feeling as the weight of your actions started to sink in. You hated it even more because you were excited, painfully so, as you watched the time tick down.

Jungkook certainly didn’t help either. It seemed his eyes were on you any chance they’d get. The strange thing was you saw more of him today than you usually do. Jungkook liked to spend his days holed up in his office, aside from the meetings he was required to attend and oversee, but today things were different. 

Jungkook was everywhere you turned, that same dopey look still on his face, and he always seemed to be staring at you. You wanted to scream at him because he couldn’t make it any more obvious, but you couldn’t because you liked his hungry gaze. It just fueled your thoughts about what might happen at four.

You were uncomfortably hot despite the freezing temperature outside. You were angry, you were way too horny, and as much as you should have been running away when the time finally struck four, you couldn’t have been happier. 

Jungkook had texted you about an hour ago (you both had quickly exchanged numbers right before you left) that he was going to go about five minutes or so early to let you in and asked for you to wait a little while just in case anyone saw anything. Just like a few hours prior, you walked through the halls looking over your shoulder, closely analyzing to make sure no one was following or even seeing you in the hallway. It was more stressful than it should have been, but eventually, you made it to where Jungkook had instructed. 

Storage Closet. Okay, this was it.

*Knock knock,* you paused for a second, and then followed it up with an additional two knocks. It had also been his idea to add a special, secret password just in case. You thought it was a little much, but he looked so cute while he came up with the code, so you let him have his fun. 

It took a second, and you were a little scared that for some reason this wasn’t the right door, or that maybe Jungkook might not be there yet and you came too early. But right as your anxiety soared through the roof, a small crack opened in the doorway. 

Lo and behold, peaking right through the door were the big, round, bewildered eyes of the man you were hoping for. You let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door further, revealing that it was just him in here like he promised. You looked around once more before going inside. 

Jungkook had kept the lights off, but as he shut the door behind you, he finally turned on the dim light and you were able to see the space a little better. It was pretty much exactly what you expected. There were mainly shelves lined with cleaning supplies and the occasional surplus of office supplies, like a huge stack of printer paper that you quickly made note of to ask Jungkook about later because you were always running out in the copy room. Besides that, there were a couple of tables you were confused what they were for, but some lined the space where the shelves ended, and there was also one that sat right in the center of the room. The room wasn’t that big, smaller than Jungkook’s office, but not by much. It definitely wasn’t cramped, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing it wasn’t grimy like you had feared. Instead, it matched the rest of the modern sleekness of the office outside. It really was perfect. 

You finally turned around to face Jungkook. He hadn’t said anything yet, but with the telling look in his eyes, he didn’t need to. You had only just noticed that Jungkook had gotten rid of his suit jacket, now just adorning his white button-up carefully tucked into his blue slacks with the sleeves rolled up. It all came together with a black belt with a shiny, gold buckle that glinted in the low light. You could only imagine how much it cost knowing the type of money he had. He looked good, too good. It’s like he had a long day at work, casting aside his jacket for a little more breathing room, and was now standing right in front of you. He looked casual, but classy in a way that made you squeeze your thighs together because, wow. With this look, you could even catch a glimpse of the tattoos that you had seen the other day. It was too much. You were too weak, and you just needed this man now. 

“Sooooo…” you began, the silence starting to grow a little awkward.  

Jungkook honestly didn’t know what to say. He was too busy drinking you in. The minute you left his office, he instantly regretted not asking if you had time to slip away to the storage room a little sooner. He was riding a high he didn’t know how to come down from. You had blown his mind. Sex had never felt that good, and you taking the initiative had been something he struggled to comprehend all day. It just made him even more eager to please you. You had been so nice, nicer than what he deserved, and he just wanted to make you feel even a sliver of what you gave him. He highly doubted it could compare, but anything to show you how grateful he was to have you here with him. 

Jungkook had struggled to keep it together since the moment you left. His eyes found you easily as he was pulled out of his office far more often than usual. It was nice to see you, but it just made this moment that much harder to wait for. Now that you were in front of him…

Jungkook barely noticed you had spoken. Instead, his gaze fixated on your long legs, your sheer black stockings coming up all the way to meet your short, black pencil skirt. Your outfit was completed nicely with a red blouse and pointed stilettos, making you even more alluring. You had also done a bit more fixing up since you left his office. Your red lipstick was back to perfection and your hair was neatly styled back the way it was when you initially walked into his office.

He didn’t have the confidence to say it earlier, and he was honestly a little ashamed that it was even a thought in his head, but he liked the way you looked after he was done with you. Something about ruining your neatness made his length ache in a way he didn’t quite understand. It was embarrassing, and he knew he should be ashamed, but for some reason today, he just didn’t know how to act. 

Jungkook’s feet acted faster than his mouth could. He was never the best with words anyway. Slowly, he approached you, and instinctively you moved back until your legs hit one of the tables that lined the walls. Jungkook was quick to close the gap, pulling you into another tight embrace that made it so easy to bury into your warmth. For a second he just took it in, loving how you felt in his arms, and you smelled so good too.

“Fuck.” He lightly moaned into your shirt, embarrassed at how easy it was to rile him up. It didn’t take much from Yuri, nor did it take a lot from you either. Maybe he was easy. Yuri has mentioned before how easy he was to please. Jungkook never knew exactly what that meant. He was just trying to be a good husband. It felt wrong to demand anything more than what Yuri offered… but maybe she was right.

However, he didn’t want to think about that now. You made it so easy to forget about his marriage when normally the only thing he could focus on was how much of a failure he was, how he was making Yuri miserable, and how he could make her happy only if he was a little better. Instead, it felt like the rest of the world melted away anytime he was in your presence. It might sound horrible, but he enjoyed the silence for once. 

“Jungkook?” You finally questioned after he held onto you a little too long.

“Oh right, I’m sorry.” His face burned, worried you might think he was weird. He separated from you and went back over towards the door, where he held up his hand to the light switch.

“Not a lot of people come down this hallway. No one should bother us, but just in case, it might be better to keep the lights off so no one suspects we’re in here,” Jungkook added. It was both a legitimate reason and also an excuse to turn the lights off again. The lights were dim, but not dim enough, and the thought of you seeing him, disappointing you like he had done to Yuri so many times… he couldn’t do that. It would be easier this way.

“Oh? Smart thinking, sir.” 

Jungkook quickly flipped the lights off, the only light now coming in was from underneath the door. Both of you could hardly see each other, but Jungkook was used to the dark. His eyes adjusted quickly to see a vague outline of your form standing by the desk.

“Mmmmm… What did I say about being so formal with me?” His tone was low, teasing almost, and when his hand grazed your arm, you practically jumped in surprise. It made you shiver when you realized he was so close.

“No Sir, no Mr. Jeon, no Director Jeon, no Head Director Jeon. It’s just Jungkook when we’re alone like this,” Jungkook mumbled slowly. He hated it, especially from you. It felt weird anytime anyone was formal with him, but he especially couldn’t stand the honorifics when you were both literally the same age. It felt wrong and fake, and that’s not what he wanted to be like with you.

“I got you. I’m sorry, Jungkook.” You made sure to emphasize his name since apparently he liked hearing it.

He did. He really did for some reason. Taking him out of the moment slightly, he had to stop himself from giggling at you trying to make him out in the dark, your squinting all too adorable. It made the horrible need to have you consume him in seconds.

Jungkook had his arms around you again, this time to lift you onto the table. He was gentle, like he always was, and he kept in close proximity. Having you this close again made his brain all fuzzy. Jungkook moved even closer and pulled you back into his arms. 

“I missed you…” he sighed, an embarrassing confession but one that was true nonetheless. He couldn’t stop thinking about you since you’d left, and it felt so good to have you here.

You didn’t want to admit it either, but it felt so good to have him here as well. You sighed in relief as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

It was a moment of softness that neither of you were really prepared for. It was nice though; you couldn’t deny it. He gave great hugs, so warm and inviting. There was an unexpected sweet smell in the air around him. You could tell his cologne was expensive, it was soft and delicate, just like the wine he gifted you on Tuesday. You felt like you could get drunk from his very presence, and that just made the ache even worse.

“Jungkook, please—” you rushed out, and he was quick to respond. Jungkook pulled you close, finally closing the agonizing distance between you two. You both had run out of patience to be soft and you were too needy to take it slow, instead going straight in with hurried and desperate kisses.

Your lips chased after each other. Any moment apart felt like an eternity, and when his hands came up and gently tugged on your blouse, the room grew hot quickly. You both knew at the end of the day, as much as you wanted to savor this moment, you were still in the middle of the workday. This had to be quick. 

Jungkook let his hand roam down your sides, touching and squeezing anything he could grab. Your blouse came first. He anxiously toyed with the few buttons it had and you both made quick work of undoing them until you could feel the chill air of the storage room on your chest. It made you remember what you had on underneath, and you cursed to yourself slightly when you realized it wasn’t anything cute, just a regular, plain black bra. But you found some relief in the fact that it was dark in here. You could still barely see Jungkook even after a few minutes had passed. However, Jungkook must have superhuman eyes because you felt him pull back for a second, and you thought you could see him staring because of the faint outline cast onto him from the light underneath the door. 

And he was staring. How could he not? You took his breath away every time he saw you. You were too kind for doing this, and deep down he knew that it was likely because of how pitiful he looked. It was probably the only reason any of this was happening. You gave him the same look that everyone else did. Dr. Min, Jimin, Dae-Jung… he’d seen it too many times. He hated it. He hated the pity. They just didn’t understand, you didn’t either apparently, that he deserved everything he got. 

To try and rid himself of his darkening thoughts, he quickly kissed you once again as his hand trailed up your thigh to push your short skirt up. It pleased him more than anything when he felt your soft skin, letting him know you were wearing thigh-highs once again.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, a burning desire returning all too quickly. No, no— this was about you. As much as he might want to have you, he was being too greedy. Even though Yuri wasn’t here, he could hear her words filled with disappointment at him for being so selfish. You already fucked him a few days ago, and despite his pathetic begging, you gave him his first blowjob. It had been all about him so far, and you’d given more than he ever deserved. If he could only stop thinking with his dick for five seconds, maybe he could make you feel even a quarter of what you gave him—

Tears pricked his eyes with just the feeling of having you so close as your hands ran over his shirt—

“Wanna make you feel good…” Jungkook said, far too shakily. His hand snaked in between your bodies, his eager fingers shocked to meet the wetness of your panties.

“Please, Jungkook, please,” you cried out as quietly as you could. You couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly learned he wasn’t like Yuri; begging worked far too well on him. 

Jungkook stepped out from between your legs to give himself a little more room. But right before you could complain at the distance, Jungkook put a reassuring grip on your waist and his other hand traced the expanse of your covered thighs ever so lightly. Your breath was shaky the closer he grew to where you wanted— no, needed him, as his fingers lightly ran over your stockings, your body going into overdrive anytime he’d inch a little closer. 

“Fuck—” you whined, enjoying the light teasing, but you wanted more. You had no idea what he was doing, but every touch felt so sensitive. He finally pushed past your skirt and played with the hem of your stockings, pulling them back and letting them snap lightly back into place. 

You both moaned. 

“You’re so hot, I—” Jungkook groaned, but didn’t finish what he was going to say because something about that seemed to have set him off. He buried his face in your neck, quickly planting desperate kisses along your skin as his hand finally made their way to your panties once more, rubbing the soaked fabric. 

The way you practically yelped when you felt his fingers running over your slit was a little embarrassing. The way he made you feel didn’t make any sense. Jungkook knew just the way to touch you that had you practically bucking into his hand as he finally settled his fingers on your clit. Despite his lack of experience in other subjects, Jungkook certainly knew how to touch the little bud the right way, though he already proved that to you the last time.

You gripped the table hard as waves of pleasure traversed your whole body, stimulating an eagerness you hadn’t felt in a while. It reminded you of college, being on your own for the first time in your life, and how that freedom came with a need to explore. It was good. You both didn’t know each other’s bodies yet, but you still found ways to make each other feel good and forget about the countless deadlines that loomed over you. 

Jungkook gave you that rush all over again. A youthful rush that you only thought was possible to feel before you hit your second decade. 

He must have noticed your growing frustration because his fingers finally pulled the soaked fabric to the side, and you were able to feel him without any barrier in the way. You were absolutely soaked, embarrassingly so. Over the buzzing of the AC in the background, the squelches of his fingers running through your drenched folds filled the room and made your cheeks burn.

In the dark all your senses were heightened. You felt Jungkook’s body on yours and his soft sighs of pleasure right in your ear as he rubbed himself lightly against your thigh. In the heat of it, you could tell he was holding himself back, how he wanted more but seemed keen on his promise to make you feel good this time. 

Your body grew hotter by the second and the moment his fingers settled on your clit once again, drawing fast, teasing circles, while you struggled not to scream out loud. You quickly had to wrap your hands around his shoulders to stop yourself from crying out for any unlucky coworker who happened to be walking by to hear.

Even though the closet was slightly secluded in a hallway not many usually walked through, it certainly wasn’t far from where they did. You could even hear them in the far distance, the sounds of murmured voices growing louder before fading off, or the hurried clicking of heels through the tiled halls. They would definitely hear if you weren’t quiet.

But Jungkook was making that almost an impossible task by the way he was touching you. And you only wanted more.

“Jungkook!” His name tumbled from your lips far too loudly, your mind a little fuzzy, but you just needed him.

Suddenly, you felt a soft kiss on your cheek and then another one on your neck, a little slower this time in pulling away. 

“Can I taste you?” Jungkook lightly moaned in your ear, so gentle and soft in the way he asked. Tingles spread through your whole body and a whole new wave of arousal soaked his fingers. 

It was criminal how pretty he sounded. 

“Please,” you whined as quietly as you could, tears pricking your eyes. You’d never been so turned on before. The shame at the realization that this was happening at your workplace filled you for a second, but Jungkook pulling his hand away and lightly running over your thigh quickly brought you back. 

You groaned as you watched his faint outline move back between your legs and drop down to his knees. You could see the faint glimmer of his eyes as he bent down, his eager, yet innocent expression a deadly combination in such a compromising position like this one. But his innocence proved to be merely a facade. Jungkook quickly placed your legs over his shoulders, wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold them in place, and tugged you closer to the edge of the table. He was close enough that you could feel his shaky breath against your soaked folds. A shudder ran through your body. Maybe it was good you couldn’t really see him. You already knew you enjoyed the sight of him on his knees too much.

Suddenly, you felt light kisses trailing up your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him. “Want to make you feel good,” Jungkook softly sighed. “Just want to make someone feel good.” It was quiet, and you only just picked it up before Jungkook buried himself between your thighs.

You were certainly unprepared. Your mind was too fuzzy, all you knew was you needed to feel him. But your assumption about his lack of experience was once again proved to be incorrect.

Jungkook instantly got to work pleasing your body, planting soft kisses along the expanse of your inner thighs, growing closer until you whined when he kissed between your soaked folds. You had to swallow back a moan when you felt his tongue licking run up your slit. He was eager and didn't hold back once he found your clit. You groaned, feeling the tentative patterns he drew around the bud, skilled, knowing exactly what to do to have you seeing stars already.

“Fuck.” You wanted to scream, cry out, do something. The fact you couldn’t, turned you on in a way that confused you, but also frustrated you to no end. 

Your hand raked through his hair, moving him closer and making sure he didn’t pull away anytime soon. You knew you could cum from this if he kept at it long enough. You never knew how much a little foreplay could rile you up, but for some reason you found yourself close to the edge already, even though he’d barely started. 

Jungkook really didn’t need to do too much to affect you, but he was such an eager boy, desperate to please, and he wanted to give you the full experience despite the dwindling time you had before someone would start questioning where you both were. 

Jungkook pulled away slightly and replaced his tongue with enthusiastic fingers, going back to pumping you with two, and tears pricked your eyes when he managed to fit in a third. 

“Oh! Fu-oh,” you cried, and Jungkook couldn’t help but think the sounds you made were the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

Yuri wasn’t loud— Jungkook never knew how to take it, whether that meant he was doing a good job or not or if she was just on the quieter side. The only reason why he didn’t go crazy thinking it must be because he was terrible was because it was the only regular aspect of their sex lives. But with you, he decided he preferred the cute way you tried your best to keep quiet, but occasionally when he’d touch you just right, you’d make these adorable squeaks.

Your hand had found its way into his hair again, and with the way you held him close, you were practically fucking yourself against his tongue. You were a little rough, your grip tight, but he liked the way it stung. Your desperation was affecting him and he just wanted to make you feel good. He liked the way you were using him. It felt good to be used, needed, wanted, even if it was just for a second. 

He was sloppy, not bothering to try and keep things classy. His mouth was practically covered in your arousal, but he loved it. You tasted amazing. Seeing you like this was amazing. Even though it was dark, he could see the way your eyebrows were furrowed by the faint glow coming through the cracks in the door. You were breathtaking. It made the strain in his slacks worsen, seeing you turn into a mess the longer he kept going. He was hardly keeping it together as it was. You probably felt it before he even dropped to his knees. He was hard, but he had to keep it together. This was about you, only you. 

What would Yuri say if she knew how riled up he was getting even after you already gave him so much? She would be disappointed and so would you. He’s been so selfish. He just had to make you feel good—

Jungkook hoped you wouldn’t notice, but he was crying again. One tear fell, then two, then they just wouldn’t stop. 

Jungkook groaned into your pussy, a mix of frustration and delight. You were so good, he had to be good for you too. And that seemed to be what it took to get you to start hurdling off the edge.

“Koo— Jungkook— fuck— fuck— close.” Your feeble attempts at being quiet were all in vain as your desperation grew for sweet release. 

Jungkook was somehow able to make sense of your whimpering and quickly picked up the pace. He hastily switched back to using his mouth and wanted more than anything for you to finish on his tongue. 

He was back with his skilled tongue, and your sensitivity brought you to the edge all too quickly. Jungkook focused on your bundle of nerves again, going from tracing to sucking to the point that you were a writhing mess in his arms. Your thighs tightened around his face, your grip in his hair growing tighter, making him groan out, the pleasure and pain a combination that made the ache somehow even worse. You were shaking in his grasp, your hushed whines growing more incoherent, and oh— he wanted to see you cum. 

He felt like he could cum all over again. Embarrassing.

It wasn’t long after that Jungkook watched with eager eyes as you fell apart on his tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure kept hitting you. Jungkook helped you ride it out, easing up a bit, but staying close. You felt like you were riding on cloud nine, and for a second you even forgot where you were. The little closet disappeared, the company building disappeared, maybe the whole world vanished, leaving your mind in a state of bliss. It was just you and Jungkook and the overwhelming blissful end he gave you.

It took more than a moment for you to recover, your ragged breathing filling the space as you tried to pull yourself together. Jungkook eventually pulled away when you started to whine from the overstimulation.

It had never felt like that before. You could only imagine what type of pleasure he’d bring you under better conditions. This was going to be a problem. This was going to have to end one day, and you couldn’t get too attached.

After some time, Jungkook shakily rose to his feet. His body felt like it was on fire. You had nearly made him cum as he watched you reach your peak, it was too hot seeing you like that. Normally someone who’s always so put together and neat, you looked like a complete mess, and it just reaffirmed his earlier concern that, in fact, he enjoyed seeing you like that.

Horrible, wasn’t it?

Jungkook could hardly look away, his body screaming out to have you. The thought of walking out when he felt like this was unbearable, but this was about you, this needed to be about you. He didn’t want to disapp—

Then all of a sudden, your hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer in an instant. He was back between your legs, and before he could question it any further, you were pulling him in for a fervent kiss. 

You seemed not to care that he was still covered in your juices and Jungkook had to fight back the urge to buck into you like a wild animal at the thought. Yuri hated when he tried to kiss her afterward, she hated kissing him anyways.

He settled into it, one hand on your waist, the other lightly cupping your cheek. As much as he was trying to control himself, you made it impossible with the way your hands raked over his body, the thread of self-control he tried to maintain for your sake quickly withered away. With each second, he grew closer, to the point you were pressed right against each other. You could certainly feel it now, the way his body pleaded for yours. Jungkook had to quickly pull away, his eyes growing watery all over again. 

“Wait!” He cried. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to at all. He could see your confusion in the darkness.

“This was about you— I promised— I—” It hurt so badly. He wanted you so badly.

You relaxed at his words. 

“Well, I want you, so—” You started to rationalize, but Jungkook wasn’t having it.

“But—”

Instead of going back and forth and letting this turn into a long discussion, you decided to take action instead. Your hands found their way to his belt and quickly started to undo the strap. His breath was heavy as the buckle jingled when you finally managed to get it undone, and you didn’t give him any time to process before you went for his pants next and reached in to pull him out.

Jungkook groaned into your shoulder, feeling your hand wrap around his length. You lightly ran your hand down to the base and then back up, tracing your thumb along his leaky tip.

“Oh— oh— oh!” You were making it so hard for him. It was cruel. “I’ll wait, I’ll…I’ll…” The words were for himself more than you. He needed to keep himself in line, he had to.

“Mmmm, you certainly don’t feel like you want to wait,” you chuckled breathlessly. It was only meant to be a light tease, but you felt him shaking. His soft sniffles let you know he was actually crying.

“I’m sorry…” he sobbed. He felt like he had disappointed you. His body had betrayed him in a way that made Yuri scream at him anytime he tried to pull her close afterward. He wasn’t in control, he should be better than this, she’d always say. 

“Jungkook, didn't you hear me earlier? I said I wanted you.” Instead of the degradation he was expecting, the softness of your voice as you pulled him a little closer melted him in your grasp. You couldn’t even imagine the things he’d been told that would make him think this way.

You couldn’t really see it, but Jungkook was staring at you wide-eyed. For some reason, he was having issues processing your words. They just didn’t make sense. He had already taken too much, hadn’t he? But the simple thought of you wanting more had him subtly moving his cock within your grip.  

“Do you want to do this?” You asked when you noticed his movement. 

Despite your confession earlier, Jungkook found it hard to admit how much he wanted to fuck you. You took it upon yourself to help him, bringing his tip to your soaked folds and letting it run through your arousal. 

“Fuck— Y/n!” he whined. It instantly got a reaction from him, his need soaring beyond all reason. He couldn’t think straight anymore, and all he could focus on was the thought of finally slipping inside you again, just like he’d been imagining over the last few days.

“Do you want this?” You repeated, still so soft. Not a demand that he had to fulfill, but a genuine question asking if he wanted more from this. 

For a second, he didn’t answer, the sound of his breathing growing more labored as you ran his cock up and down your slick. He couldn’t answer. You felt so good and he was trying his best to get back in control, to not be so weak as Yuri would always say, but you made it so hard. 

He wanted to fuck you, and he probably would have pushed into you right then and there if suddenly he didn’t remember something.

“I— I still don’t have any condoms with me,” Jungkook cried, tears slipping down his cheeks as he fell into your shoulder. Fuck— how was he going to walk away from this?

“We don’t need one— I’m still on the pill, remember?” You pulled him away so you could look him in the eye. “If you’re ok with it, we could continue, but if you’re not comfortable doing that again, that’s completely fine.” You smiled, and there was genuine concern behind your gaze.

Jungkook normally wasn’t the risky type when it came to sex. He barely had sex enough for a habit like that to even be established, but with Yuri he was always so careful. She would never forgive him for even taking the chance of getting her pregnant, and he didn’t want it either. Not when he was like this, clinging to life by only a few short strands. With Yuri, he made sure things were right no matter his desperation, but with you… Once was risky enough, the heat of emotions causing protection to completely slip his mind. He had remembered this time, but after hearing your reassurance, his usual caution was thrown to the wind and all he could care about was feeling you.

In a haste, Jungkook took it upon himself to finally guide his cock into your warmth, moving your hand out of the way while he grabbed his length and finally slipped it into your slick hole. He watched your expression intently as it turned from surprise into bliss, pleasure overtaking your features, and you just looked so pretty. It made his desperation worse as your tight warmth enveloped him. You were so wet; he slipped in so easily, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you. 

Jungkook had to fight back the urge to sob. After so many days of playing your night together over and over in his head, his imagination could never compare to how good you felt in real life. Despite his earlier indulgence, Jungkook had to fight tooth and nail to deter himself from filling you up right away. You had had to deal with that once already, he couldn’t disappoint you— not again. The fact that you were even doing this with him was gracious enough. He couldn’t keep putting you through his failures.

Jungkook tried to slow his breathing down while he waited for you to get adjusted and for himself to calm down enough to move without instantly blowing his load. Even now, you were making it difficult in the way you were squeezing around him, and he already knew he wouldn’t last very long no matter how hard he tried.

You noticed he was tense and planted a few kisses across his cheeks, but Jungkook pushed your face so your lips would finally meet his again, engaging in another passionate kiss that only made you squeeze somehow even tighter around him.

Jungkook broke the kiss and let out something between a groan and a whine. “Fuck— fuck— I—” He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t just going to cum right then and there. Embarrassing.

“I’m sorry— so sorry.” He cried. “I don’t think I’ll make it very long…” You would probably want nothing to do with him after this.

You went back to kissing his cheeks. “Don’t stress, ok? Fuck me how you want to, don’t hold back for me.” Your warm smile could be seen even in the darkness. You looked like an angel…

Your words set a fire inside him. Fuck me how you want to— you were far too nice for someone as pathetic as he was. But as shameful as it was, he enjoyed your sympathy.

Jungkook didn’t hold back anymore and finally started moving his hips. You both moaned, but quickly realized the volume of your mistake, pulling each other into another kiss instead. You both swallowed each other's cries amidst the sounds of clothes ruffling, and the wet, slick sound of his quickening pace pumping into your heat. The table you were sitting on started to creak with his hurried struggle to properly feel you again.

Jungkook rolled his hips in a way that made your toes curl and had you struggling to keep quiet. He was good, settling into a nice, rhythmic roll after a few desperate thrusts in the beginning. His size filled you up in all the right places, a satisfying stretch that you could more than just grow used to. 

It wasn’t long before you both had turned into a tangled mess of limbs trying to feel each other. Jungkook had buried himself in your shoulder. Kissing you grew impossible. Instead, he cried out as silently as he could into your skin. 

He managed to delay his release for longer than he had expected, but the rush still came on quicker than he would have liked. 

“Close!” He whined as quietly as he could before picking up the pace. He couldn’t last much longer with the way you were squeezing around him. It was all too much, and before he could even try and hold it back any longer, his hips stilled and he filled you up with everything he could give.

Jungkook quickly pulled you into a kiss as his hand made its way between your bodies, and his fingers hastily found your clit again. He started making hurried motions around the bud until you were clinging onto his shoulders while your next orgasm surged through your body. You both were out of breath as the heat of the moment began to simmer down. It was the first moment he was finally able to think clearly again. There was one half of him that looked at you with the utmost admiration, someone far too kind to be messing with him. He never thought he could get enough of you. Then there was the other half…

The post-bliss clarity made him look at the situation as it truly was. He was cheating. This had truly turned into cheating. He’d betrayed Yuri’s trust, and there was nothing he could ever do to regain it. He didn't deserve to. But as horrible as it was, Jungkook found himself wanting to do it with you all over again, to have you in his arms so the world would melt away and he could just indulge. 

But unfortunately, the other half looked at you with the same shame and disgust he held for himself. All you were now was a reminder of how horrible of a person he’d become, and he couldn’t stand it.  

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[marypaol]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Harry wants to stay with her till they’re gray and old… as long as she doesn’t let go.

Warnings: Kissing? Talk of future? I think that’s it! <3

Note: In Harry’s POV yet it’s third person. I hope that makes sense to y’all. :)

Note #2: Based on the song “Say You Won’t Let Go” by James Arthur. Not the whole song though. (Some lyrics)

Between each lyric- time skip. Lyrics in italics! :)

Masterlist

Requests closed at the moment

Also started another blog! @honeychamomile1

I pulled you closer to my chest. And you asked me to stay over, I said, “I already told ya, I think that you should get some rest.”

“I’m so tired.” She grumbled. Her body squirmed under the blankets as she tried to seek a comfortable position.

“I know.” Harry chuckled in response, his fingers traveling along the skin of her arm as he kissed her temple.

She hummed, her eyes once closed but when he responded she fluttered them open, eyes sparkling at the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Harry.” She laughed out, hand coming up to stroke his cheek, then reaching up to adjust his glasses.

She pulled him forward with her arm around his neck, digging her face into it, and he thanked Merlin she couldn’t see his red face then. He pulled her closer to his chest, arm wrapped around her back as she was once now flushed against him.

“You should stay the night.” She whispered, snuggling herself deeper into him as she kissed the skin of his neck.

He squirmed at the feeling, the tickle sensation spreading from the area she was kissing to his toes. He sighed once she stopped, having to stop the giggles that were threatening to leave his mouth.

He leaned back, taking his arm out from behind her back so she wouldn’t crush it and stroked her hair out of her face as he looked at her.

“I already told you,” he sighed. “you should get some rest.”

She groaned at his reminder, hands reaching up to ruffle his already messed up hair. She was gonna be honest, there wasn’t a time she saw it neat. That that she was complaining, his feisty hair was one of her favorite things about him.

She then pouted when her eyes met his. He chuckled at her stubbornness, shaking his head at her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I have to go back to Ron.” He reminded with a teasing warning look.

“I was hoping you would stay when I gave you the puppy eyes.” She said, putting the show on again. He shook his head once again as an answer.

She pouted deeper, her eyes dropping before she gained composure again to hide the fact she was tired.

“Rude.” She muttered, dropping her hands from his hair.

He laughed on how cute she looked, kissing her pout away with a soft kiss to the lips.

When you looked over your shoulder

For a minute I forget that I’m older

I wanna dance with you right now

Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever

And I swear that everyday you’ll get better

You make me feel this way somehow

Harry could hear the shuffling from the seat next to him, his lover not seeming to be finding a satisfactory position to sit in while doing their work.

“I don’t know what to write!” She exclaimed, dropping her quill as she made movements in the air with her hands in exasperation.

Harry shrugged, peeking at the page number she was on in her textbook and turning to it in his own. The two were doing their Divination homework, Professor Trelawney wanting them to see how the next month for them will go.

“I’m about done with taking this seriously,” she started, shaking her head.

“You’ve been thinking I’ve been?” Harry added, but she continued, ignoring his comment.

“I’m making it up.” She decided, grabbing her quill and looking at her book, humming as she found a potential imaginary scenario that will most likely not happen anyways.

“I’ll….lose a bet….?” She suggested, still looking at her book.

Harry nods before realizing she’s not looking at him.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he replies. “Um…and I’ll…be unlucky for one week.”

She grinned at him. “Mine’s more believable.”

He scoffed. “My book doesn’t have any good ones!” He said as an excuse.

She laughed. “We have the same book!”

“Whatever-get me a different Divination book in the library, will ya?”

She rolled her eyes but got up nonetheless, searching the shelves for something better for the boy. Even though the book she was using was just fine.

She heard him close the book he was previously using and looked over her shoulder at him.

Harry just so happened to be already looking at her, and forgot everything he was thinking about moments prior. He forgot he was a year older since his birthday was in the summer, forgot that his mind should be focused on school work. His brain was occupied with thoughts on how beautiful she looked at the moment. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of him looking flustered just by looking at her, his bright green eyes something she easily got lost in.

He suddenly had the urge to get up and dance with her right in the middle of the library, despite his lack of dancing skills. He wanted to embrace her as a way to claim her his, despite the fact she already was.

Everyday she seemed to get more beautiful, more breathtaking, and more gorgeous.

Even after she chuckled at his act, turning away with thoughts all about him, a soft fuzzy feeling flooded Harry, making him feel all warm inside.

His fingertips became tingly, itching to touch her face her hair her everything. She just left him and he already longed for her to come back.

She did just that a couple minutes later, laying a book down for him as they exchanged smiles.

I'm so in love with you

And I hope you know

Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold

We've come so far, my dear

Look how we've grown

And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old

Just say you won't let go

Just say you won't let go

“Say you won’t let go.”

The sentence made her head come up from his chest, her fingers halting their movements on his hand.

She looked at him and laughed halfheartedly. “What?”

He was serious when she looked at him, and so her small smile dropped suddenly at his serious mood switch.

“Say you won’t let go.” Harry repeated.

“You know I won’t, Harry.” She whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek, the smooth skin soft beneath her finger tips.

“Promise?” Harry asked hesitantly, doubt swarming in his stomach.

She sat up then, and for a split dying second he thought she was gonna leave, leaving him alone in the bed.

Instead she sat on his lap, his back leaning against the headboard. She sighed, legs on either side of his waist as her arms came up, sliding up his shoulders before her hands wrapped around his neck. “Harry,” she whispered, leaning closer.

“I want to stay with you until we’re grey and old. So old we don’t be able to get out of bed, so old neither of us can hear properly anymore. So old that we both have wrinkles covering our faces and even more when we smile. And I do that a lot around you.” She added, smiling as she said such things.

“Really?” Harry asked, voice barely audible. But she heard him well, nodding her head. “Yes,” she started, leaning closer and pecking his lips, sweet and soft, loving and kind. “And I definitely won’t be letting go any time soon.”

“I love you.” Harry whispered.

“And I love you.” She said back against his lips.

I hope you guys liked it!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hiii I’ve been following the Malleus talk for some time now and wanted to ask what things you do like about him or good traits you think he has. I ask because when you explained that why you don’t like Vil you also said what you liked about him. That he works hard and is confident. So I’m wondering if you have some of those for Malleus!

[Referencing this post and this post!]

Aaaaaah, I tried my best to come up with things I like about Malleus but fair warning that it’s not a lot and I had to pick really specific instances rather than general characteristics 💦 I hope that’s okay!!

His mom is hot--

There are times when he acts appropriately neutral, wise, and dignified, as a crown prince and future king should be. I like these moments and want more of them over him being pouty or lashing out. A few examples of this include Fairy Gala (he knows there are tensions between nocturnal and diurnal fae and rightfully stays out of it), Ghost Marriage (he cannot thoughtlessly propose to Eliza but does support Riddle and Lilia in their preparations), and Vargas Camp (when he instructs Sebek to apologize to Leona, who still counts as a fellow prince).

His patience with Sebek. Early on in the fandom I think there was this expectation that Malleus would find Sebek annoying? But it’s refreshing to see that he isn’t usually bothered by Sebek’s presence and handles interactions in a level-headed and blunt manner. He doesn’t discourage Sebek and his special interests either; Malleus tends to entertain them (like the time he sat still and had the royal painter do a portrait of Malleus for Sebek’s birthday gift) or is otherwise pretty indifferent about it, though of course he still corrects Sebek when he steps out of line or intrudes on others.

Malleus’s love and care for the gargoyles of the City of Flowers/Fleur City. His friendship with that one gargoyle was just so adorable!! Short it may have been, but it was still very genuine.

His parallels with Leona. A crown prince with few close friends or family… versus a prince who will never have the crown but is surrounded by loving people… They want what the other has so badly, and I think there’s such a tragic irony about that.

The one time Malleus truly felt fear (thanks to Rollo). Listen, LISTEN 😭 This was legitimately so cool????? To think that it would be Rollo lighting a fire under Malleus’s tail, forcing this overpowered fairy to experience that same feeling others may have when he unleashes his power on them… Oh, how the tables turn. It’s interesting that Malleus reacts as if he’s amused by the sensation of fear and welcomes the challenge; it sort of implies he was growing bored of the same old routine and is actually showing some strange respect to Rollo by deeming him a worthy opponent. This being one of the few times Malleus shows vulnerability instead of dominating the battle, of course I’d love it 😂

But most importantly…. Malleus’s best trait is—

***Late book 7 spoilers below the cut!!!***

He was once a cute lil’ baby dragon that makes silly lizard sounds 🐉 (alas, he is no longer one… 😔) And again, he has a hot mom—

[justporo]

From the Touch of Gentle Fingers

Just a short little drabble of Astarion and Tav sharing a tender, vulnerable moment worrying what the future might hold. Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You) (Genderneutral reader) Rating: General

You were organising the enormous stacks of books all over the floor in the room Astarion wanted to turn into a study. And he kept buying tons of books and scripts. And yeah, he did read them but he didn't care very much about keeping them in order or putting them back where they belonged. Seemingly his neat outter appearance didn't seem to reach past his own fingertips.

In fact in the months of living together in an actual home you had learned a thing or two about him and yourself. For example, you seemed to care much more about order than you'd thought possible while he seemed to have quite the chaotic nature.

But it might not be that but rather that he tried desperately to find out who he was or at least who he wanted to become now that he was free of higher powers. Maybe it was that with the still pretty recently regained freedom he felt a sort of impeding doom having to choose from a seemingly infinite amount of choices of what came next. You thought about that a lot and hoped you could help him and ease his anxiety.

As you were putting away another dusty old tome, you heard a few soft notes from a piano downstairs. You frowned. There was in fact a piano downstairs - the two of you had bought it. But you had been sure it had been a splurge only for decoration. So either Astarion was downstairs playing the piano or you had to deal with a ghost.

The sounds stopped then began again and started a little melody. You slowly got up and silently walked down the stairs. You felt that what was going on was pretty intimate. You stopped in the frame of the door and saw that Astarion was indeed sitting at the piano. His back was to you.

He softly played the keys and was humming to himself while the melody went on. It was hesitantly at some parts but still pretty impressive. The longer he played the more confident he got, the chords coming more quickly.

But then it ended promptly: a note amiss, Astarion angrily slammed his hands on the keys causing a discordant sound. Then he sighed in desperation and threw his head back. He was about to slam the case of the keys shut when you made yourself known: "I didn't know you could play."

Astarion winced and turned around as you walked over to him. "I don't really... It's been over two hundred years since I last played." "Sounded pretty good for that." He snorted and turned to the piano again while you slid down onto the bench next to him. He shuffled a little to make space for you.

You grabbed Astarion's hand that was closest to you and started to massage it. "You know how to do incredible things with these hands, Astarion, I bet you'd quickly take it up again if you wanted to." "Hmm yes, I bet you know exactly what these hands can do", Astarion replied with a smirk and a wink. Then the vampire sighed, his cheeky demeanor gone. You let go of his hand and stretched yours out to reach for the other. He gave it to you and you started massaging it as well.

"It's so frustrating", the vampire said with another sigh and looked at you. "Sometimes I'm reminded of something in the past, something I felt back then was true to myself. And some of these are things I want nothing more than to get rid off and then there's other stuff I would like to get back but it's all tainted." He softly took his hand from you and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "And then... there's stuff I desperately hope will be true for the rest of time." "Like for example?" "That you're here and that I love you, that there's always a path to take and that at the end of the road the clouds will always pass." You grabbed his hands from his eyes so he would look at you. "Well, the first one's a given, isn't it?", you said and leaned in for a kiss Astarion happily provided.

"And as for the rest", you continued, "I guess you can have and be all of the things because they're a part of you but it's up to you how you let them define you - and you can always make something new... something better." Astarion looked at you for a moment of silence. Then he tenderly cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your lips: "Then I guess I might have already started doing that."

[yorshie]

Hello there! I’ve never done a request before but I’m always so excited to read new stuff from you. I read your rules but I’m still not entirely sure how to do this. Please let me know the proper way to do this in the future.

I was wondering if you’d do a one-shot with BayLeo? Anything is good, maybe include a comfort scenario one on one where he’s having a serious convo and asks for them to look at him, gently grabs their chin to have them face him? If that makes sense. Apologies again!

HI HI!! I'm sorry this took so long, thank you so much for sending in a request! This is a perfectly fine way to ask for a request, don't worry! I am just slower than molasses in January lol.

This ended up a little short, i'm sorry, but i hope you enjoy it! (it's more of a blurb than a one-shot, i just got hit with the feelings and this spewed out of me)

Bay Leonardo x GN reader (reader is an artist) SFW, mushy mushy Leo in love

Leo’s watching you again.

Not subtly at all, clear blue eyes peering over the top of the old, battered copy of a novel whose title is taped over. There’s an indent to one side of his cheek that leads you to believe he’s smiling as well, that little dimple that you love to stroke and kiss over playing peek-a-boo with you around the corner of the worn pages.

You could ask him, you know, could turn your head and catch his stare. Holding it comes easier noq, the feeling of butterflies in your throat something that’s mellowed and warmed with the certainty of acceptance, of devotion.

But instead you keep your eyes down low, to where you’re more aware of his gaze as a physical thing, a pinprick of awareness along the soft hair on the nape of your neck and arms. You aren’t fooling him either, you think, but he lets you keep up the ruse, lets you focus instead on the sweeping arcs and shapes of charcoal on the white paper laid out by your knees.

You feel his gaze move down to your hands, and you wonder what he sees there, beyond just digits dusted in coal black chalk. You know what you see when you look at his hands, the strength, the scars, the lines and scales and the way they curl perfectly around yours. How they soothe, how they heal, how they feel…

You smile, just a little, when you hear the page turn. 

“What are you drawing?” He asks, voice almost a whisper as if he’s afraid of breaking whatever it is between the two of you. It etches the smile a little deeper into your face, thinking how unbelievable it was that anything in this world could turn you from him.

“Just some studies,” you hedge, marking little deviations in the line with a twitch of your fingers, not calling attention to the fact that you could just tell his gaze was fixated on your hands. “pretty things, things that I’ve seen out and about but didn’t have the time to sketch then.” Another moment of silence, before you ask, “what are you reading?”

Leonardo’s breath comes out in a huff through his nostrils, the soft sound of the book falling shut almost masked underneath the noise. “I haven’t been paying attention to it for a while, to be honest.” He sets the book to the side. “Too busy staring at my own pretty thing.”

The confession pulls your gaze a little in his direction, your hand rocking to the side on the surface of the paper like an afterthought to pull the charcoal stick away from where you were carving in lines. Your attention seemed to be what Leo was waiting for, because he eased down from his reading nook to sit next to you on the floor. 

“Pretty thing?” You fished, pulling back from where you’d been pouring over the paper, shoulders curving slowly in his direction, though you managed to keep from raising your eyes to his. You could feel the betrayal of warmth on your cheeks underneath his solemn regard, something that you were sure was responsible for the sweet, boyish smile that pulled at his mouth. 

“Yes.” Leo’s hand reached out, whispering over the paper in a feather light caress, to curl around the hand holding the charcoal stick. “Look at me, please, Blossom.” 

Your gaze flickered up to his, finally, becoming lost in the pretty blue that surrounded the dark pool of his irises.

His other hand came up, the little callus on the inside of his thumb rasping across the swell of your cheek as he cupped your face, pulling you closer, closer, until your nose pressed against the curve of his beak. Close enough that you could see yourself reflected against the curve of his eyes, a loving reflection that you swore cataloged every detail about you, a spell you couldn’t break even if you wanted to.

“You always have a hard time believing this,” he breathed into your face, words quiet and sure, “but you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Leo pulled your captured hand up to his chest, the little sound of the charcoal drawing a line over his plastron lost in the sweet, heavy thunder of your heart. 

When you try to tuck your face into his hand, to lessen the intensity, his thumb pressed against your temple, turning your gaze back to him once more. 

“I mean it.” He doubled down. “I want you to know this, that I think you’re beaut-”

You leaned forward, cutting him off, pressing your mouth to his and not missing the exhale of his breath into your mouth, a herald of his slight annoyance over the redirection.

He allowed it, threading his fingers through the fall of your hair, angling his head to the side so your nose wasn’t mashed against his face. Instead of voicing the words out loud, he switched tactics, pressing them silently over and over against your lips. 

Where the charcoal stick ended up, you never knew, thoughts quickly consumed with the way he pulled you effortlessly into his lap.

[nyoomfruits]

blush 💖💗🩷💕💘💖💓💗🩷💖🥹🥹🥹 for the kisses prompts

blush: a kiss on the cheek set in the love you with the lights on universe, many many years in the future!!!!

Lando gets awoken by the sounds of a door slamming, followed by an immediate ‘Liv!’. He blearily blinks his eyes open, rubs a hand over his face. He didn’t even drink any alcohol at last night’s gig, and still he feels like he got runover by a fucking truck. Doesn’t help that he didn’t get into bed until 4 and it is now – he glances at the clock on Oscar’s bedside table – 7 in the morning.

Fucking hell. Maybe he’s getting too old for this shit.

He can hear Oscar and Olivia puttering around downstairs, the sounds of pots and pans and a coffee machine brewing, the hushed chattering of voices. That, combined with the delicious smell of coffee drifting up the stairs, is ultimately what pulls him out of bed instead of attempting to sleep some more. He slips on a pair of jogging pants and a hoodie he is pretty sure belongs to Oscar, and makes his way down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes as he steps into the kitchen.

Olivia is sitting at the kitchen island, book propped open against a vase in front of her, radiating a brand of morning temper that seems particularly prevalent in 14 year old teenagers, absentmindedly munching on a piece of toast as she flips the pages. Oscar’s at the stove, poking at his eggs with a sleepy, grumpy look on his face, proving that even while Olivia’s morning temper might mostly be a teenager thing, the apple never truly falls far from the tree.

“Morning,” Lando says, puttering over to Oscar, whose face breaks into a beaming smile when he spots Lando.

“Hey,” Oscar says, sliding an arm around Lando’s waist and pulling him close, pressing a kiss to his cheek before letting him go again. “Morning. Did we wake you?”

“Nah,” Lando says, making his way over to the coffee machine and pouring himself a cup. “Woke up naturally. Morning Ollie,” he says, to where Olivia is still grumpily flipping through her book. “You ready for your big test today?”

He gets a mumbled morning and a shrug in response, and hides his grin behind his mug as he shares a knowing look with Oscar, who’s gone back to poking at his eggs.

“How was the gig?” Oscar asks, apparently deciding the eggs are good enough and sliding them onto a plate along with a piece of toast. Lando follows him to the kitchen island, leaning on one side while Oscar sits down next to Olivia on the other.

“Good,” Lando says, smiles. “Tried some new stuff, the song me and Ollie were working on last week? Went over really well.”

“Does that mean I can come, next time?” Olivia asks hopefully, sticking hear head over the vase to look at Lando, pleading look on her face.

“When you’re sixteen,” Lando and Oscar say in unison. They glance at each other, trying very hard not to laugh, while Olivia lets out a loud ‘UGH’ and disappears in her book again.

When it’s time to leave Lando actually manages to coax a half hearted hug out of Olivia, gets a proper hug and another kiss on the cheek from Oscar and then they disappear through the front door in a flurry of bye’s and I love you’s.

Lando walks back to the kitchen, puts his mug in the sick, wanders back upstairs for a nap. The house is eerily quiet, without his little family in it. He misses them already.

[jhoneybees]

Special gift

Hello Hello! I'm back dollies :) Here's a cute little fic! It's been a while since I've posted a fic so I do apologise😬 and with the desire part 2 I am writing it! but I'm gonna be shelving that for a bit because I'm not in that thirsty mood at the moment lol I've been craving some sweet fluffy Elvis! Enjoy!

Tags: @elvisalltheway101 my doll!

Characters: Highschool 50s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: I'd say nothing but if you spot something, please comment!

_____________________________________________

Gosh. His eyes, the waves of deep blue rippling into that icy blue around those dark pupils, increasing and decreasing in size. You really could get lost in them, you have to be careful though, you wouldn't want to fall in love…would you?

Well for your case, yes. You're in love, you're madly in love with a pretty boy. With how he skillfully combs back his hair into a duck tail and how his bottom lip juts out just a bit when he's deep in concentration, you're just melting at just the thought of him, of Elvis Presley.

He's everything you're looking for in a man, a future husband you hope and dream. He’s kind, caring, funny, generous, courteous, and humble. It goes on and on and on and you wouldn’t be panting by the endless list at all because you'll be too busy listing off every praise in the universe. Your mind is just filled with everything Elvis, in every single nook and cranny.

_____________________________________________

Closing the locker door with a tinny slam, your eyes drift to the boy of your dreams. Just standing there with nobody accompanying him, you take the chance to admire him, admiring how his ever growing chest hairs peek out from behind his white short sleeved button up, his lean biceps fill out those sleeves so nicely and his simple black slacks just had to make you hitch a breath, they compliment his long legs so well.

You really do dream of approaching Elvis someday, to finally confess your love that you've been bottling up ever since the first day you saw him but you're shy, so shy that you'd be a shaking leaf just asking a teacher for directions to the art classroom and not only that, you're scared of rejection, you know everyone else is too but it still doesn't change your mind to have the courage to walk up to Elvis Presley and blurt out the three words.

As you sigh and grip your books closer to your chest in longing, his eyes pierce into yours. You didn't know he could stop time because the brief moment of the both of you staring feels like the bustling crowds around you just freeze.

Trying to take an even deep breath, you swallow thickly as he strides towards you. Your wrists ache at the growing pressure against the edges of the books but you don't care because all you're thinking is if your knees are about to collapse at the blessing of seeing Elvis' shy but also charming grin.

“You're Y/n, right?” he asks.

You nod quietly and he breathes out a shy chuckle, stuffing his hand into his pocket, he nods back and you're guessing, out of nervous habit, he scratches the back of his neck.

“I-I’m Elvis…and uh- This m-m-might sound crazy but uh- I've seen you around these places and thought you're real pretty” he states.

He thought you're pretty? No. Real pretty? Oh your dreams must be having a real good time, you can't bring yourself to believe that, he couldn't possibly think that, he's got so many other girls who are far prettier than you that he could choose from, right?

“And uh- ah can't keep my head f’om shuttin’ up to ask ya if ya..uh.. w-w-wanted to go on a date with me?” his eyebrows raise just the slightest bit.

A date?! You? He’s asking you on a date? You swear, you're hearing wedding bells in your head and not the ones from the church a few blocks down that you'd willingly get married in if he asked you to or you're preferred choice, wanted to.

This can't be real, right?

“Y-you don't gotta say yes if ya don't wanna but just thought ah’d better take someone like you out before I regret myself”

He stammers with his head lowering towards his chest and rubbing the back of his neck with a small crooked smile.

Your overly religious parents would scold you for using his name in vain but…

Oh God

Gulping again for- you think, the 20th time. You clutch your books even tighter than before, fully aware that it would definitely leave red marks on your skin. Trying your best to not appear overly shy, you grip at that ounce of courage and give Elvis a small smile.

You've been dreaming of this.

“I-I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, OH. MY. GOSH.

You're going on a date with Elvis Presley…

You're going on a date with Elvis Presley!

As you close your bedroom door and plop your books down on your desk, you gasp softly in your hands in absolute shock. How did you land on such luck? Or whatever it is. Turning yourself around, you sit at the end of bed and dig your face deeper into your hands.

Trying to process your thoughts but of course, all you could ‘process’ is the image of Elvis, the guy that walked up to you. The boy who asked you on a date!

“Ah!!” You squeal, slamming yourself back on the bed, kicking your feet in the air with so much excitement.

Your hands dragging down your face don't do anything to your big smile, you're just amazed, in awe, so in love.

Then a thought comes into your head. What are you gonna give to Elvis as a token of appreciation?

Others might not think of anything like that but to you, it feels necessary. Elvis is taking time out of his day to take you out so why wouldn't you give him something for such a kind gesture?

_____________________________________________

“Thank you…”

You smile as Elvis helps you out of the car, your small hands held by his large ones, you feel calluses on his fingertips from what you know and saw, playing his guitar during lunch breaks and occasionally at the local park on weekends. Their firmness slightly nudges at the back of your hand, the warmth just engulfing your hand cosily. You couldn't be more satisfied at just the slightest touch from him.

Then as he leads you down the wide dirt and grassy track, you grip your knuckles together.

He didn't tell you where you were both going in Riverside Park for this date and as much as you adore and love Elvis, you're a little concerned but as you two near the riverbank and Elvis turns to you with a sweet boyish smile on his face. Your concerns wash away instantly.

“M’sorry this date ain't shiny and lavish…” he chuckles nervously.

“No, this is lovely, Elvis” you say softly, returning a smile.

You wouldn’t have this date any other way, it’s everything you’ve been dreaming of. Getting to sit beside the river with him, being in each other’s company, it’s perfect to you.

You have seen him with other girls at school before and when you saw how much of a gentleman he was to them just makes your heart stab itself with an arrow and you thought you know every kind gesture he does but he’s full of surprises because when he started taking off his jacket and laying it down on the grass, he had the audacity to melt your heart for the 100th time in the span of just 2 weeks.

“Don’t wanna get your pretty skirt dirty”

Of course with that little grin that you have memorised every detail from.

He is just…everything.

The conversation just flows so effortlessly and after some time it begins to fizzle out and you both sit in pleasant silence, you look out at the slow moving, crisp water and when you don’t expect it you both breathe in the fresh air at the same time. Whipping your heads around and bursting into a fit of giggles.

You want to spend your life with him.

Your mind runs with thoughts of how lovely this simple date is and when you turn to look at Elvis’ face, you accidentally let out a tiny gasp which you hope Elvis didn’t hear but of course he did. Turning to look at you with a slow growing smile and piercing blue eyes that ping through into your heart. You wouldn’t be surprised if he started laughing at your poor little heart thumping a thousand miles per hour.

Panting so much that its cheeks would flush a brighter red than it already is.

“Enjoyin’ yer time?” he asks with raised eyebrows, creating those cute little wrinkles on his forehead.

You nod with a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice how your cheeks grow a bit pink, almost like the same colour as his socks that are slightly exposed under his brown slacks.

He looks back at the water and you do the same. After a little while, you remember the thing you made for him. Quietly moving your arm, you dig in your skirt pocket and pull out a beaded bracelet with a colour scheme that you hope Elvis would like. Baby blue and gold. Finishing off with a white bead in the middle with a little gold encrusted heart on it.

“Um..Elvis?”

Your heart sighs at how he softly hums in response, turning to look at you with slow wandering eyes.

“Yeah?”

Holding in your breath, you close your eyes for a brief moment. You really do hope he’ll like it, you did work very hard on this little bracelet but if you had to be honest, you wouldn’t complain if he just throws it into the water and yells at you because it’s not much, It’s really not much compared to him using the fuel in his daddy’s car to drive you here and take time out of his precious day but you still like to hope.

Holding the small token in your hands, you lower your chin towards your chest. Gulping nervously at the non existent saliva in your desert-dry mouth.

“I-It’s not much but uh… I made you this a-as a thank you gift for- bringing me here a-and taking time o-out of your day- uhmp-” you stutter and with a bit of bravery and courage, you thrust your hands out more towards his chest.

Your heart almost jumps at the unexpected chuckle and your hands begin to tremble as you feel his fingertips brush your palm, picking up the homemade gift with a crooked grin on his handsome face. Your hands fall onto your lap, your brain shivering in delight. He’s so delicate and gentle at how he’s holding the bracelet and you just melt at how he takes the time to admire every single little bead that you know damn well costed you $1.50 for a small pack and the small gold encrusted heart being your only special bead that you didn’t want to use for anything that isn’t special, yes it’s not actual gold but you just thought a while ago that there could be a possible chance of a real special moment that this little bead would fit perfectly in which this moment is just that.

“Aw Y/n…that’s real sweet of ya, thank you” he drawls, still looking at the bracelet in hand. Shaking his head with a bigger grin, you quietly watch as he shimmies his hand through the bracelet, starting to doubt if it’s even going to fit, but it snaps in place and moulds around his wrist perfectly and as he looks up at you, you swear you felt your nerves in your body shut down for a split second.

Then your breath hitches as his hand softly and gently picks up your hand. This can’t be happening. Watching his hand lift yours up to his lips, his baby blues peering up at you, he places a delicate kiss on the back.

“...I love you”

[gavvaiins]

lonely

summary: having to carry the future of multiple universes on his shoulders miguel simply is tired, tired and lonely.

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader warnings: angst, pinch of fluff, less actions, more vibes; story's gender neutral but i feel it might be too female-coded? idk ; - ; word count: 3.7k

a/n: yeah ... this is longer than it needs to be. Might got confused by grammar later ... idk while writing i fell into a narrating-style crisis? It definetly doesn't help when the book you're reading is written is a different tense.

Sometimes all Miguel wished for was some time alone. In a building full of arachno-humanoids, constantly surrounded by either living people, holograms or other species there was sometimes not enough room to breathe. So, nothing reprehensible about wanting some time for himself.

However, Miguel wasn’t longing to be alone.

He didn’t need to.

He already was.

Despite being surrounded by dozens of spider-beings he was alone. He had no friends. Jess was a colleague, Peter Parker was a dear colleague, the best – and what was even Peter B. Parker? Honestly, Miguel didn’t know, but despite all these different Spider-People there was no one waiting for him. Not even in Nueva York, a city with far more citizens than anyone could count.

No one was waiting for him to come home – or to simply arrive, anywhere.

Lyla was nothing but an AI generated hologram, he created.

There was no one waiting for him.

And that was good. No one waiting for him meant safety; for him and for him. Without anyone there waiting for him to return home he could neither hurt nor lose someone. Miguel noticed that it wasn’t loneliness he was longing for, after all he was pretty much alone in his world, carrying the burden all by himself. Having time to breathe, to think that was what he was longing for. A moment without Lyla and the other arachno-humanoids, without having to think about anomalies and the downfall of universes.

All he wanted was peace.

“Miguel?” His body grew tense as your voice emerged from the dark, careful and soft, almost fearful as if you were entering a cave, unsure of what you’d meet in there. There was a chance that you hadn't spotted him yet, sitting on his lowered platform all by himself. Within moments he heard your voice he began holding his breath. If he didn’t make a sound, you wouldn’t catch him, which was a dumb and childish thought considering the lighting of the running monitors, which illuminated his big frame quite perfectly.

What were you even doing here? There was no need for you talking to him.

“Miguel?” You asked. He could sense the hesitation in your voice, it reminded him of the heroes in fairy tales, both brave and stupid enough to enter the dark woods full of beastly and hungry creatures. When Miguel thought about it, his room was a bit like a forest – or more a cave, dark and mysterious. To his surprise the light tremor in your voice didn’t stop you from further exploring the room. If this was truly a fairytale, you’d either be very brave or stupid, or both. Whatever it was Miguel would’ve eaten you alive.

But this wasn’t a fairytale, and he wasn’t the big, bad wolf, ready and hungry enough to devour you. But why didn’t you stop?

Why were you still going?

He was the Spider-Man who hoped not to be found by anyone, especially not you.

With every passing second Miguel’s body grew more, and more tense, his lungs felt strained, knowing very well that with every step you took, you were closer to seeing him. He knew that it would’ve been smarter to swing away, to simply vanish in the dark. But he couldn’t move. Something in him didn’t want to flee, despite his longing for peace and serenity. He was like a spider trapped in its own web, paralyzed by his own poison.

Maybe he longed for you to find him.

“Miguel.” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, not entirely fearful but caring as well. Yet, Miguel kept using the tactics of a child. Stoic and stiff did he keep his posture, eyes on the ground, head buried in his arms; if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see him either. Rather he avoided your eyes, your whole presence like the plague.

How did he, Spider-Man 2099, guardian of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse and destroyer of a whole universe, look like? A mountain of a man hunched on his sunken platform, hiding his face like a fearful child, who didn’t know where to put its overwhelming feelings. He used to be an authority, always standing high on his platform, towering over and looking down on you. But now it was you who looked down on him, a pile of misery in blue and red barely illuminated by flickering screens.

“Oh, Miguel.” He could sense your presence beside him, he could sense everything of you – your pity and empathy was almost sickening. Your body was awfully close but kept a minimal distance of respect, and to his own surprise Miguel felt his tense muscles relax.

Finally, he found himself able to breathe again.

For a moment you said nothing, no Miguel, no how are you. No words left his lips either. You two sat in silence and Miguel enjoyed it, a little – sitting with you in the dark, just the two of you and he hated to admit it, but he began missing his name rolling off your tongue. His name sounded so soft and caring, like he meant something, like he was someone others cared for.

Someone you cared for.

And something inside of him longed hearing you say his name, again, and again.

To his own surprise he needed it, and he surprised himself by how desperately he needed to hear his name coming from you.

“Miguel?” Ah, there it was. Finally. It was embarrassing admit how Miguel’s heart enjoyed it deeply, hearing his name rolling of your tongue. It felt like warm milk mixed with honey running down his throat, filling his body with warmth and a feeling of serenity, of home. Despite his inner positive response to your presence he didn’t move, nor did he speak. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Feeling your knee nudge his thigh, his body grew tense again. The touch was subtle, yet it alarmed all his senses, as if your touch could hurt him. Couldn’t you just continue gently serenading his name, like a sweet lullaby he could relax and fall asleep to? Miguel didn’t need to talk with you about his feelings. He didn’t want to.

“Doesn’t – “

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled, words swallowed by the void underneath his arms.

“– look like nothing,” you said. No answer, and for a moment you grew quiet. He had no idea what you were doing but he could hear you shifting in your seat beside him. Were you finally leaving?

No.

He wanted you to leave, didn’t he? Yes … that’s what he wanted.

But you weren’t leaving, he knew it when he felt your gentle touch on his shoulder. His muscles jumped slightly under your touch as if your fingers were ice cold or burning hot. They weren’t. Your touch was light, careful, like a butterfly dancing on his skin. First came your fingers, gracing his scapula as if you were testing the waters, then rested your palm on his shoulder and despite the highly advanced suit he was wearing, it felt like his skin was burning – a malfunction, an electric shock.

His heart jumped.

It was too much.

“I said, leave me alone!” Forceful, almost feral, he slapped your hand away. Risen to his full dominating size Miguel was panting heavily, fangs bared, talons shown and eyes gleaming of anger … and hurt, and loneliness, confusion. He looked like a beast, tall and furious, ready to strike or devour you.

“Miguel.” He tried not to flinch. He hated the sound of your voice; it didn’t feel soothing anymore. Instead, it was laced with fear, but mostly hurt. But what was he expecting? Miguel had scared you; he had hurt you.

Good.

Lyla would scold him for being an ass. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he needed to, and if that’s what’s needed to leave him be, he’d endure it … and he would do it again, if he needed to. Despite his body telling him differently, he neither needed you nor your pity.

His initial thought was that his plan was working. The big, bad Spider-Man was indeed an asshole, who made you cry for no reason. Never would you talk or even look at him again, which he told himself was fine. But you weren’t crying. Sure, you were holding your arm protectively close to your body as if his talons had teared through your suit, making you bleed. But no sign of tears rimming your eyes, plus, you weren’t leaving.

You were still here.

“What the fuck?”

Why wasn’t it working? “I told you to leave me.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still there?” With satisfaction he watched you thinking of a good response, gears turning in your head, to no avail. Your mouth opened slightly before pressing it shut, eyes lowering to your hands folded in your lap. That was it; without anything to retort you surely would leave him.

Again, the two of you sat in complete silence. One he didn’t enjoy, but need, and surely neither did you. However, he was sure that you’d given up, any second, and leave him alone. “Is that really what you want?”

He looked at you, blinking.

“Is it really what you want?” You repeated, staring into his dark eyes and there is something in yours that scared him. Miguel couldn’t tell what it was, there was no poison in your eyes, no malice, yet he was afraid. “Do you really wish to be alone?”

You scared him, and that’s nothing anyone would ever associate with you. He hated to admit it, but he was, not of your physical strength or arachno-powers. Surely, he could easily knock you out. Rather he was afraid that you’d find something you weren’t supposed to see.

Miguel hesitated. “Yes.”

“I have to.” It just slipped out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to speak his mind, even if it was just a bit. You weren’t supposed to know. But now you knew something that was meant to stay hidden, that was meant only for himself. A burden he had meant to carry himself. There was no reason to hide, yet there was no reason to face you either, so Miguel did what he could best, being alone. With a heavy sigh he crept back into the shell he so shamefully had lost. This time Miguel didn’t burry himself beneath his arms, instead he stared in the darkness of his office, waiting for you to leave. By that time, he should’ve known that you wouldn’t leave him.

Not like that.

“Oh, Miguel.” Again, his name was nothing but a soft whisper, comforting. There lied some sadness behind his name, yet it was all he had wished for moments ago, before he lashed out at you. “You are not alone. We’re all Spider-Man.”

Some incomprehensible grumble left his lips, how should he explain? It wasn’t your fight, neither was it Peter Parker’s, only his. “It was me.”

“I’ve done this,” he said before you could even think of calling him again.

“I –“ Miguel’s breath hitched and for a second his heart stopped beating, stumbling over its own rhythm as he felt your fingers dancing on his skin again.

How dare you?

He wanted to bare his teeth at you, again, he wanted to scare you, to push you away from him, but he couldn’t. His mind told him to, like he used to do whit so many people before. You knew too much about him. But his heart, his body, craved for the softness of your voice, longed for the warmth of your heart. Carefully your fingers grazed his skin, almost waiting for some sign of permission until they could finally rest on his cheeks. Despite wearing your spider-suit your hand felt surprisingly soft on his skin.

With a sigh he leaned into the comfort of your touch, until he remembered who he was and what he did. His head shot up like your hand was hurting him but before he could utter any more words of misery you placed both of your hands on his cheeks, gently forcing him to look at you.

“You’ve done what? Jumping through the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse.” Your voice was calm and gentle, as was your smile. He could barely look at you. “That is quite a complicated name, maybe you should think about calling it spider-verse instead.”

Miguel meant to smile at your joke, even if only subtle, a ghost of a smile only you’d be able to detect and in any other situation he would. But he couldn’t. Not now, when he’d say something so gruesome that would paint him in a different light. However, the truth didn’t want to roll over his tongue, revealing who he really was, not when you so gently smiled at him, caressing his skin with your fingers. Heaving a sigh, he let go, and melted into your touch like warm butter. Was it good to let his guard down? Probably not. Neither was it professional to lean into your touch, almost gracing your clothed wrist with his lips. It wasn’t good but it felt good, the softness of your touch, the warmth seeking through your spider-gloves. If you’d allow it, he will fall asleep right here in your arms.

It was impossible for him to resist.

If only Lyla could see him now … big, bad wolf turned into a puppy.

However, he was left dumbfounded when he found himself stripped of your touch, even more so, when he found himself disliking the sudden coldness. Wanting to know what went wrong Miguel starred at you but nothing seemed to have changed. You still looked at him with the same fondness and empathy in your eyes, the only difference was that you’re patting your lap. His eyes followed your directions, and he grew hesitant.

“May I?” It should’ve been Miguel asking and not you. Though, resting on your thighs was a nice, almost heavenly thought but he shouldn’t enjoy your comfort too much. “Miguel, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s okay.” He declined.

“C’mon Miguel, it’s comfortable I promise,” you smiled, but he didn’t move. Surely it must be more comfortable than hanging in your hands, but Miguel couldn’t let himself fall on your lap. Already he was enjoying the tenderness of your fingers too much, what would happen if he rested on your thighs? Would he melt into them like he did with your hands? The though was nice but he resisted, not for long though. Tugging, basically dragging him by his arms, you somehow managed to pull his heavy body down on your lap. Carefully he shifted his weight, so only his head and upper body were lying on you. He didn’t want to crush you. However, the feeling that spread through his body as he rested on your thighs was both nice, comfortable and weird. Overall, it was a weird sensation and he’d found himself in a situation he’d never dreamed about before.

“May I?” Miguel had no idea what you were up to, yet he agreed with a hum. His eyes fell close and he hummed again, when he felt your fingers carefully dancing over his body, moving from his shoulder to his hair. It wasn’t the same when you held him in your hands, fingers holding him and caressing his cheeks. It felt different but good, relaxing your hands running through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And sometimes he could feel the ghost of your fingertips brushing over his face.

He didn’t know how long you stayed in this position, sitting in silence, him resting on your lap and you caressing him like a pet. Miguel couldn’t remember the last time somebody did this for him or when his muscles felt so relaxed. Again, if you’d allow it, he’ll fall asleep right here by your side. But then he remembered what you asked him a long time ago.

“I killed them.” Miguel’s voice was surprisingly calm, even to him. Neither knowing what he meant nor how to answer this, you remained silent. But he could feel your eyes on him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it … not after confessing murder. Yet, he explained, “I killed them all, billions of people, my – his daughter Gabriella, all because I was selfish. – Gabby died because I was foolish to believe that my actions wouldn’t have any consequences.”

His confession shocked you; he could hear it in the change of your breathing and the stillness of your hands, and something in him died. Shocked by his confession you surely would leave. Push him off you like something disgusting. Maybe you would never talk to him again, unless it was necessary, and the thought scared him. His mind had told him to push you away. It was best to handle it all by himself, it was what he always did. But the stupidity people called the heart had won and now the thought of you leaving scared him.

“Tell me what happened.” Your voice was calm, not scared, not soft, just calm. It wasn’t the reaction Miguel had imagined, especially not when your fingers continued to play with his hair. You weren’t even disgusted by him. What kind of person were you to not leave him? “Tell me what happened.”

And he did. Miguel told you everything. How he took the role of a dead man, living his life and raising his daughter. He made it clear that he thought of his actions as selfish and stupid, because he erased a whole universe and with that Gabriella’s future. Never would he forget the fear in her eyes, how she clung to him, looking for safety, calling for her dad – for him, not knowing her real dad has died – until she disappeared as well.

Telling his nightmare was awful, remembering the horrors of his action never got any less painful. But sharing it with you felt surprisingly relieving. It wasn’t like he was healed from his pain but telling you about it made it a little more bearable. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

How should he answer? Thank you? Moments ago, Miguel would’ve grumbled at the pitiful – no, empathic, he’d learned that much by now – tone in your voice but now he liked it, just as he enjoyed you calling him by his name. Miguel didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think you killed them, Miguel,” you said after an eternity, never stopping playing with his brown strands. Careful he shifted his weight to look at you. Even with one eye lazily opened, he decided that he liked looking at you, watching how you react to him. “Then, who did?”

Wringing with the words on your tongue you hesitated. “I don’t know.”

In normal circumstances Miguel would be grim, and scoff at your naïve words, claiming to be the villain of his story. The selfish murderer of Gabriella O’Hara. However, now he felt rather tame and tired. It’s enough for him. So, he only hummed, closing his eye to revel in the fondness of your touch.

“But you can’t know either.” He looked at you again. He had to correct you, he knew, it was obvious, really. But before an answer could roll over his tongue you were quick to intervene. “I know what you’re going to say, Miguel. You’ve seen it and to you it makes sense, but listen – I … how does anything make any sense? Multiple universes, anomalies, canon events … we shouldn’t even be here, Miguel. I shouldn’t, none of us. But here we are.”

There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, faint yet he heard and didn’t like it. Miguel knew you’d meant to comfort him but, in the end, you’d realized, that nothing of this should’ve happened. You should’ve never met the friends you made in the spider society, never should’ve met him and never found him dark, and lonely in his room. Almost instinctively his hand reached out to you, gently cupping your face. Now it was his turn to comfort you, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. Unsure if he should draw small circles with his thumb, like he wanted to, or caress like you used to do, he just held you. “Don’t. – The multiverse is mine to preserve.”

“Oh, Miguel.” A soft, but sad smile graced your lips as you laid your hand over his, unwilling to let him go. “It’s not yours, either.”

“But it was my fault, not yours. Don’t worry about something I’ve done.”

You sighed. “Miguel, you shouldn’t carry this burden alone, we’re all Spider-Man. It’s not your duty alone to save the multiverse, you can’t do this alone. I – I think what I’m saying is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You might think that you’ve to do all by yourself but that’s not the truth, we help you, all of us. We will carry that burden with you, I will.”

Truly it was sweet how caring you were, none of you could – and should – carry the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse on your shoulders. It was his job to preserve one less universe from being destroyed. It was his shoulders who had to carry the burden of it all, not yours. None of you should ever have to worry about the stability of your universe. But there was something burning in your eyes as you spoke, something Miguel enjoyed watching. So instead of objecting and lecturing you about the truth he heaved a hefty sigh and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable in your lap. It takes some time until you picked up where you left playing with his hair, gently scratching his skin here and there.

It's quiet as you ran your fingers through his hair, he doesn’t even move. You weren’t even sure if he was still breathing. But you swore you heard a hum, a content sound vibrating through his big body. However, when you try to check on him there’s nothing, no sound, no movement, not even a smile. Miguel simply looked like he’s asleep, stoic and grim – just like when he’s awake. It’s a silly though, him always looking serious no matter if he’s asleep or wake, it made you smile. However, in rare moments, when you’re not looking at him, his lips curl into a grin.

[thelargefrye]

FIRST MEETING MONTAGE … head canons

pairing : ateez x f!reader (separately)

genre : idol au, headcanons, each member has their own mini genres and tropes, future dad!ateez au

warnings : language, a nose bleed (jongho), some members are longer than others! sorry! also i’ve never been to a fansign so i’m only going by what i think happens 🥲

note : a remake and return of the mr. housedad series! been thinking about this for a while, so yep! here it is, enjoy… feedback is appreciated

how you and ateez met, setting your future in stone.

KIM HONGJOONG x ARTIST!F!READER ( fake dating, strangers to friends to lovers )

you felt stupid for some reason. like you should have never agreed to doing the blind date your friend insisted on setting up for you.

mainly because right now you are getting stood up, it’s been twenty minutes past the time you were suppose to meet your date and now you just feel silly. maybe you should just go home.

“um, excuse me, are you y/n?” a voice asks behind you and you turn to see probably one of the most handsomest men you have ever seen.

everything about him was just so put together. his split hair being eye catching and his outfit just being so stylish makes you feel underdressed if you’re being honest.

“yes! I’m y/n, are you hongjoong?”

“haha, yes i am, sorry i was late. i got caught up with work,” he says before he’s walking you towards the restaurant doors. “shall we go in and talk?”

you nod and can’t help the heat going to your cheeks as he opens the door for you before following close behind you into the restaurant.

“to be honest, i only agreed to this date because my friend has been pressuring me to try and date,” he says and you feel an odd twist in your stomach. he didn’t even want to be on this date.

so that’s why he was late, you think to yourself as you nod at his words. granted at first you weren’t that excited to be going on a blind date, but you really did want to get out there and start dating.

“my friend insisted i go on this date as well. she tells me that maybe going on a few dates here and there would help with my creative block that i’ve been in for the past few months,” you tell him with a laugh and he nods at your words.

“i hate creative blocks,” he says as he runs a hand through his split colored hair. “what do you do for a living?”

“i’m an artist. i do a lot of commission paintings and illustrations for children books. i also do paintings for myself and a few galleries here and there when they want me.”

“you’re an artist? that sounds amazing,” he says and you notice the immediate stars appearing in his eyes and you feel a sudden boost in your ego. “i think if i wasn’t so in love with music, i would definitely have become a painter.”

“hey, i suddenly just had an idea,” hongjoong says which quickly earns your attention as you look up from your food. “this might seem crazy, but what do you think about pretending to date?”

“pretending to date? what do you mean?”

“well it’s obvious that i’m not interested in actually dating and you’re in a creative block, so what if we help each other out. we pretend to date so i can get my friend off my back and when we do hangout, i help you try to get out of your creative block. a win-win if you ask me.”

god, what kind of fanfic are you living in right now. fake date an idol? that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but you can’t ignore how tempting it sounds. you really do need to get out of your creative block soon in time for the next exhibit and maybe doing painting based on love could be a good thing to try.

“okay, let’s do it.”

hongjoong smiles at your words before saying, “can’t wait to fake date you!”

PARK SEONGHWA x IDOL!F!READER ( strangers to lovers, nct added member )

you looked so pretty, sitting there along with the other hosts is what seonghwa thought as he watched you from where he was sitting with his members. he licked his lips, stars in his eyes as he still couldn’t wrap his head around seeing you.

his members would tease him later but he didn’t care. you’ve been his celebrity crush for a while now, even back when he was a trainee, he’s adored you.

and recently he found out that he was your ideal type. he felt like it was a huge ego boost. he wanted to talk to you, but at the same time he was nervous.

some of his members — i.e wooyoung and san — told him he should give you his number while they were in the show. he tried arguing with them, telling them no and that he honestly couldn’t because what if you rejected him. he couldn’t handle such a rejection from you.

“you should just try it, hyung, i’m sure she’ll say yes,” san said and once they all took a break in filming it was san who pushed seonghwa over towards you.

“hi, um, i’m ateez’s seonghwa,” he says and cringes at how he chose to introduce himself.

“oh, hi, it’s nice to you meet finally you seonghwa! i’m nct’s y/n,” you say as the two of you bow to each other.

“i just wanted to say that i’ve been a big fan of yours for a while and wanted to know if you would want to hangout sometime?”

you look surprised by his sudden question and seonghwa wonders if maybe he crossed a line, but your words are quick to make him think otherwise.

“o-of course! i would love to hangout sometime!” you say and seonghwa can’t help but find you extremely adorable in this moment.

“do you… maybe want to exchange numbers?”

“yes, sure, of course!” you say and seonghwa laughs at your response as he pulls his phone out while you do the same. you two are quick to exchange numbers before the producers are calling for everyone to return to the spots. “i guess we’ll talk later, right?”

“definitely.”

“great, good luck on your group’s performance!” the two of you wave before you walk off and seonghwa can’t help the lovestruck feeling that over takes him.

“soooo… how did it go?” san asks coming up to the eldest member with a sly smirk.

“shut up,” seonghwa says before shoving san slightly and walking back to join the rest of the members.

JEONG YUNHO x GAME DEVELOPER!F!READER ( strangers to lovers, dad!yunho )

you were use to being alone. especially since you started living abroad in korea away from your friends and family you had grown up with and cherished. you often relied on memories to keep you company, but recently one of your coworkers told you a solution to your loneliness.

“a dog?” you had only thought about getting a pet a few times, but concluded that maybe getting one while being abroad wasn’t the best idea. your job wasn’t always the most stable as any game you and your team were working on could get cancelled last minute. plus you were still slowly trying to figure out how to take care of yourself, let alone a dog.

“you should think about it! there’s an adoption center nearby, so maybe check it out sometime,” they told you and only agreed to think about it.

and think about it you did because the next thing you knew, you were making your way to the adoption center.

you were going to adopt a dog.

you decided that maybe it was for the best to adopt a dog, maybe having someone else to take care of would make you less lonely. and of course it would get you out of the house more…

and that’s exactly what is happening three weeks after you adopted a cute labrador retriever named lily who you just immediately connected with. she has a lot of energy, that’s for sure but you don’t mind.

that’s actually how you found yourself at the park, playing fetch with her. throwing the bright yellow ball and watching lily as she goes and retrieves it.

you watch as she runs back to you, ball in her mouth as she drops it in front of you. picking it up, you toss it and your surprised by how far it goes. watching the ball land in the ground and roll to a complete stranger, a black cap on his head and mask pulled up over his face. the stranger picks the ball up right as lily comes barreling towards him.

“wait, lily!” you shout as you watch her pounce the man and you immediately take off towards the two. “oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

the man laughs as he shakes his head and gives lily the ball. lily turns to run back to you, but seems surprised and happy to see you right there next to her.

“no worries, i probably shouldn’t have picked the ball up,” he says and even if he’s wearing a mask, you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes crinkle.

“still i am so sorry, i just adopted her and we’re still learning,��� you say, feeling an embarrassed heat take over your face.

“really, don’t worry about, but if you still feel guilty how about you take me to get some coffee? i know a good dog friendly café that’s nearby,” he says as he bends down to pet lily.

wow, he’s smooth. “o-oh, uh, sure! um, i’m y/n and this is lily!” you say and cringe at how a little too excited you seemed.

“i’m yunho.”

KANG YEOSANG x FASHION STUDENT!F!READER ( idol and fan to friends to lovers )

you actually managed to get into a fansign. and one for your ult group nonetheless. you were so excited that you almost threw up, twice. but you didn’t! then as the day drew closer, you got more nervous. you were worried about what would happen if you accidentally made a fool of yourself in front of your favorite group.

oh god what if you tripped! no, don’t think like that because then you will definitely trip.

when the day finally came, you made sure to dress cutely. despite knowing that none of the members would probably remember you, you still wanted to look cute so that you could look back fondly on this memory.

however, what was suppose to be a good day with meeting your favorite group soon turned into probably the worst day you’ve had in a while.

first you had to chase after your cat after she managed to escape your apartment. then you miss your bus by a second — you literally watched it take off as you were running down the crowded street to make it. so in a hurry you grab a cab in order to take you to the fansign. thankfully you managed to grab a cab fairly easy and arriving there was also just as easy.

however, it started going down once again when you tried to enter the fansign and the guard stops you.

“sorry this is a fake ticket,” he says before handing you your paper back. you’re completely shocked as you look at him.

“w-what?” you are easily pushed aside by the other fans behind you and you let them as you are still in shock. you were scammed into believing you had actually won a fansign with ateez.

what kind of cruel world is this you think as you walk outside the building and onto the steps. you know you probably shouldn’t be sitting here, but your legs don’t allow you to go any further. even after the fansign started, you find yourself still sitting on the steps. you can only faintly hear ateez from inside along with all the lucky atiny who didn’t get scammed.

when the fansign is over and all the fans had seemingly left, you find yourself on a nearby bench. you can’t help but look at your ateez album and wondering how this day that was suppose to be a great one turned out to be so… disheartening.

“excuse me,” a deep voice startles you from your thought and you turn to see… yeosang standing next to you. “did you go to the fansign?” he asks, gesturing to your album.

“o-oh, no, i didn’t. i had a fake ticket,” you say before you quickly wonder why you are explaining it to him.

“oh, i’m sorry…” he says trailing off before you watch something click in his head as his whole face lights up, “do you mind if i take it for a moment?” he asks, again gesturing to your album and you willingly hand it over. “what’s your name?”

“y/n.”

once he has your album, he motions for you to say before he dashes off back into the building. it’s several minutes later when he returns and hands you back your… now signed album.

“thank you for supporting ateez,” he says with a small bow before a man — who you assume is his manager — calls for him and yeosang is soon disappearing back into the building with a small smile and wave as a quick goodbye.

what… just happened? you look at your album, quickly opening it and flipping through the pages to notice how each member had signed it. however you notice something different when you get to yeosang’s pages.

“sorry you got scammed, but hopefully this makes it better! btw you looked cute, so smile okay? xx-xxx-xxx”

did you just get kang yeosang’s number?

CHOI SAN x COLLEGE STUDENT!F!READER ( idol and fan to friends to lovers )

no way. no fucking way. this was not happening. there was no way THE choi san was standing right in front of you while you dressed like an elderly woman. not that there was anything wrong with dressing like an elderly woman, but meeting your bias while dressed as such was not ideal.

“oh? are you the exchange student my grandma was talking about?” oh shit, his grandmother talked about you to him.

“u-um, y-yeah, i’m y/n,” wow, smooth y/n, real smooth.

“ah, well if you need help with anything while i’m here let me know,” he says with a smile before turning and walking away leaving you a little dumbfounded.

you watch him walk back into the room that is only just down the hall from yours and felt your heart jump down to your stomach. holy crap, choi san is staying only a few rooms from you. what kind of fanfic trope is this?!

this had to be a dream, this had to be anything but real. you refuse to believe it. you slowly closed your bedroom door, walked over to your bed, and grabbed your pillow before screaming into it.

these next two weeks were going to be interesting, that’s for sure.

SONG MINGI x WEBTOON ARTIST!F!READER ( strangers to friends to lovers )

mingi felt weird. not weird in a bad way, but just felt… weird. actually he wasn’t really sure how to explain it. his mom had asked him to go greet their new neighbor who was his age.

was this her way of trying to get him to start dating? to have him meet her new neighbor and have them just… fall in love?

but even if it was weird, mingi didn’t argue or question his mom and so that’s how he found himself standing in front of your door ready to knock and introduce himself.

when he did knock, it took a few minutes before someone eventually came to the door. and mingi won’t lie, you looked like you hadn’t seen another human for a few days with how disheveled you looked.

he wasn’t trying to judge you or anything, but it was quite obvious.

“can i help you?” you ask after you both stood there in silence for a few moments.

“o-oh, um, i’m mingi. my mom lives next door and wanted me to give you this as a welcome present,” he says presenting the kimchi he almost forgot he had in his hands.

you glanced down at his hands and noticed the container of kimchi. he seen you hesitate for a moment before you took it with gentle hands and that was probably the softest thing he’d witnessed from you since meeting you less than five minutes ago.

“thank you,” you said before going back into your apartment and closing the door behind you.

“so how did it go?” his mom asked once he returned. mingi still felt like the interaction happened a little too fast for his liking.

“it was… okay. she’s seems… interesting.”

“good! maybe this could be the start of a new friendship!”

“yeah, a new friendship.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG x IDOL!F!READER ( strangers to friends )

“just talk to him, y/n, what could go wrong?” your group member insisted as you both stood near the vending machines at music show.

“a lot could go wrong and then i would just end up looking stupid in front of him and never be able to show my face in front of him again,” you told her and she gave you a pointed look as if to say really? but yes, really!

“come on, y/n, why don’t we go visit him and his group under the guise of giving them our album? maybe then you can get the chance to talk to him,” she suggests and you are about to deny it when she stops you and drags you back to your group’s dressing room.

which is how you all end up knocking on ateez’s dressing room door, your group’s album clutched tightly in your grip. when ateez’s manager opens the door, your leader bows and introduces you all and tells him how you wish to gift ateez a copy of your album.

“hello, we are visage,” you all say in unison before ateez is quick to also introduce themselves.

“we were just wanting to gift you all a copy of our album,” your leader says before gesturing to you who was still tightly holding onto the album.

your other group member gives you a light push which makes you step forward. your eyes flicker between wooyoung and the album before you’re quickly holding the album out for the dancer to take. could you have been any more obvious about your feelings? probably, but you didn’t want to think about it.

you really wish a giant hole would open up on the ground and swallow you up right now. wooyoung only smiles as he takes the album from you and you step back in your spot between your members.

your leader and hongjoong speak a little bit more before your group leaves and once back in the safety of your dressing room, you collapse onto the leather couch. again, can a giant hole just please swallow you up. you lay there for several minutes, just accepting that you probably made a fool of yourself in front of your crush.

ding! you look up and at your phone to see you got a text from an unknown number

‘hey this is wooyoung! love your dance covers let’s hangout sometime and film one together!!!’

CHOI JONGHO x PRODUCER!F!READER ( co-workers to lovers )

jongho felt his jaw dropped when he was told that you would be working for kq and especially with ateez. how the company managed that is beyond him, but he’s not complaining.

of course his first time meeting you could have gone better than him causing you a nose bleed, but alas not everything goes as plan.

jongho doesn’t even remember all of what happened. one minute he was waiting to record his lines when he had to use the bathroom. so when he opens the door, he opens it smacking you in the face and watching you fall to the floor. your bag falling and papers scattering around you and jongho feels like his soul should have left his body.

“oh fuck, i am so sorry, are you okay?” he asks quickly bending down to help you pick your stuff up when he looks over to notice some blood dripping down your nose. jongho feels even worse as he immediately tries to help you even quicker. “oh god, your nose is bleeding! again, i’m so sorry!”

“i-it’s okay! i wasn’t paying any attention. i should be the one apologizing,” you say as you take a tissue out and attempt to stop your nose bleed.

“i can’t believe i gave my favorite producer a nose bleed,” jongho mumbles as you can’t help but laugh at how cute he is acting. the pout on his face doing wonders to make him fit into the role of the maknae, that you are well aware that he doesn’t always fit into.

“i’m your favorite producer?” you ask, eyes shining and jongho realizes that you heard him.

“y-yes, i love a lot of your songs even your solo stuff. your first album has always been a personal favorite of mine,” he says as he helps you stand, your bag now in his hands as he gently opens the door for you.

“well i’m a fan of your voice,” you say as you take your bag from him, “and i can’t wait to work with you jongho,” you say before walking into the studio and leaving jongho by himself in the hallway.

“she likes my voice.”

tag list : @invuwrld @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @rdiamond2727 @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @kryybebe @dementedaly @simonswhore @cvpitvno @kangskims @moonm1st

[awkward-halfhug]

probably not the best sedative | eleventh doctor x reader

summary: the Doctor's finally asleep. Which is nice, but you have to pee

chapter 1 2 3 4 5

contents: fluff, cuddles, full bladders being the enemy of cute moments

(also on my ao3)

1.2k

The Doctor is insufferable.

This was the first thing out of your mouth to him when he returned from his half-hour's worth of rest that you had forced him to take. You hadn't expected a full 8 hours from him, but at least one hour would've been nice. 

According to the doctor, he was going to sleep, that was definitely his plan, and he was definitely trying to do so, until he just so happened to remember that Time Lords are physiologically unable to sleep all by their lonesome. Something about cats?

Needless to say, that was one of the most ridiculous things the you had ever heard him say (and you travel with the doctor, so that's saying something.)

And yet...

And yet, you think as you peer down at the Gallifreyan currently curled up on your lap, snoring softly, maybe it wasn't as ridiculous a 'fun fact' as you originally thought.

It has been, not one, not two, not eight, but twelve whole hours since the Doctor came traipsing into your room with what seemed like yet another excuse as to why he was incapable of taking it easy.

Twelve whole hours since you rolled your eyes at his antics and told him, with a challenging quirk of your brow, "Fine, then you should have no problem as long as you're not alone, right? There's a stack of blankets over there, you can sleep next to me while I read." 

Twelve whole hours since he grabbed a blanket, almost eagerly, and settled himself down on the couch, without a hint of reluctance. He had wiggled around until he was apparently comfy, nuzzled his head against your leg where he laid it, and let out a little contented noise that made your heart swell.

Twelve hours that he slept like a baby through, and possibly might even be coming onto thirteen hours, except you really, really have to pee, and unfortunately you think you're going to have to wake him soon or your bladder might well explode.

But a few more minutes won't hurt, you think.

At one point he seemed a bit restless, perhaps because of some dream he was having, or maybe he was just uncomfortable. So you tried to calm him. Hesitantly, you reached out and gently ran your fingers through his messy locks. He calmed almost instantly, and you marveled at that a bit. The more you stroked his hair, the more relaxed he became, and so with one hand you continued petting him (and that's effectively what you was doing; petting him), while you held your book open with your other hand. 

You had to stop petting after a while, your arm tiring of the repetitive task, and immediately the Doctor's sleeping face twisted into the cutest little pout. He even made a little whining sound that you wishe you had recorded, for future teasing purposes, but alas your phone was in the other room.

His head is heavy (must be all that infinite knowledge he claims to carry around) and it's long since cut off the circulation to your feet. But he looks so peaceful that you couldn't bring yourself to move him.

And truthfully, it's nice to be able to look at him this close. To study his features, all the little details that people miss because he never stays still long enough to notice them.

Like, for instance, you noticed somewhere around the fourth hour that he actually does have eyebrows. All this time you had secretly thought his species just didn't grow them. You had thought that was just a feature of the Gallifreyan race, and he would most definitely laugh at you for the assumption, so it's a good thing you realized before you asked him about it.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, you had run just the tips of your fingers across his delicate (and near invisible) eyebrows. They were so soft. You did that a few more times before deciding he must be a pretty heavy sleeper when he actually was able to sleep like this.

And so you let your fingertips trail across more of his face. His skin is so smooth, you had noted, as your fingers glided down the arch of the Doctor's nose, across his sharp cheekbones, his strong jawline, his funny chin...his lips. His lips were so soft under the pads of your fingers. You wondered if--

You had wrenched your hand away from him when you realized how creepy all that had been. Had you been checking him out? While he was asleep? Your face had probably turned crimson, you're sure, and you're incredibly grateful that he hadn't woken up while you were doing...whatever it was you had been doing. Just the thought of how he might've reacted to that has you blushing in embarrassment again.

You push the thought from your mind forcefully and attempt to focus on your book, but you're unable to focus with the Doctor snuggling into a different position on your lap. This time, he clings to your knees like they're his favorite pillow, and once he's sufficiently comfortable, a contented little smile on his face, he starts doing something that you would never have expected, even from him.

The Doctor starts purring.

Actually, honest to goodness, purring. You have to stifle your giggles, which only makes the full bladder thing that much harder to ignore. And yet now you really don't want to get up. The Doctor is purring! Again, where is your phone when you need it?

You reluctantly decide to get up finally, when you can think of literally nothing else except your bladder.

You place your book down on the side table next to you and carefully, gently, you unlatch the Doctor's hands from your knees and lift him up enough for you to slip out from under him. You place a nearby pillow under his head and lower him onto it. He latches onto it, and, when he doesn't appear to be waking, you run to the bathroom as quietly as you can manage without sacrificing speed. You really, really, really need to pee.

~~

Returning to your room, bladder no longer crying out for your attention, you find the Doctor blessedly still asleep.

You have a decision to make. Your legs have just regained feeling, and your back is actually aching pretty badly from sitting upright like that for around thirteen hours straight (had you really sat there for thirteen hours? Had the Doctor really stayed still for thirteen hours?), and you desperately want to crawl into your bed and sleep yourself.

But the Doctor said he's a social sleeper. What if he doesn't sleep well without your presence? And besides...you really want to hear him make that purring sound again.

The choice is easy.

Grabbing an extra pillow for your poor back, you make your way back over to your couch. Lifting him up (he really is heavier than he looks), you settle down on the cushions and gently place him back onto your lap, which he takes to like a happy kitten once again.

The Doctor's purring starts back up as he turns towards you and wraps both arms around your waist.

A slow, happy smile blooms on your face, as you brings your hand to his hair for more of those pets he loves so much.

"The things I do for this man" she try to grumble to the TARDIS. But your voice is too full of affection to pull off annoyance, both you and the TARDIS know it, so you give up the pretense with a happy sigh.

The TARDIS hums knowingly.

"Yeah", you agree. "I guess he's worth it."

thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging/commenting, it means a lot! ♡

[florsial]

@bartylusmicrofic - Wish Also he/they and trans Regulus!

Caught up in the flow of studying, the common room opening didn’t register in Barty’s head until the sound of jewelry was being set on the table. 

Throwing himself away from the numerous notes and open books, he sees his boyfriend scowling, his brows pressed together, and his lips being bitten raw. Judging from the formal outfit, Barty could guess that Slughorn’s party didn’t go too well for his boyfriend. The heated look in his eyes was evident enough and Barty suddenly wished he had attended with Regulus.

“Still planning on attending the next one?” He asked as he closed his notebook and looked up at Regulus, accepting the fact that he probably wouldn’t be studying for the rest of the night. 

Twisting another bracelet off his wrist, Regulus replied, “I don’t know, I’ll see after I’ve cooled off.”

“You could skip the next one.”

“The meetings are good for my future,” Regulus makes a face at his own words, “I think.”

“Uh huh,” Barty hums, standing up from his seat. He doesn’t really believe that, after all, Regulus is as smart and talented as he is, and no, Barty isn’t being biased, it’s true. He’s been trying to top Regulus in their History of Magic class, but his boyfriend always manages to keep a firm grasp on the position of being the top of the class. Barty would be proud if he hadn’t been trying to beat Regulus for years, even before they had started dating.

And that is just the tip of his boyfriend’s intelligence.

He is broken from his thoughts when Regulus asks, “I need to get out of all this, can you help me?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, “let’s go.”

Truthfully speaking, Barty doesn’t understand why Regulus insists on wearing the traditional pure-blood clothing, he is pretty sure some students have turned up in less than formal wear. Also, Regulus complains often about how scratchy and tight everything is and the hair-dos. Always braided and pinned with pins that give Regulus a headache. He ought to convince his lover to tone down for the Slughorn’s parties.

When they get to their dorm, Evan is still not asleep, unsurprisingly. A single light emits from his wand, highlighting his wide eyes and unsettling expression as he reads the book of myths he always reads. He doesn’t spare them a glance as they make their way to the bathroom, but he does nod subtly without looking up.

“Hi, Ev,” Regulus greets casually as he passes by, snagging his silk pajamas from his bed.

When the bathroom door closes, Barty locks it as Regulus undoes the buttons and straps of his outfit. He leans against the door as he watches carefully and with adoration as his lover curses under their breath at the overly complex parts of their dress before fully stripping themselves from it, leaving Regulus only in the long undershirt and corset he stubbornly refuses to take off lest he becomes a hunchback like their mother fears. 

Barty tries not to make fun of him too much for that.

He walks over and takes a moment to admire the freckles sprinkled all over and a slight blush brushed over their collarbones and shoulders. As hands rest on their waist, Regulus turns around.

“Loosen the back, would you?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

In the beginning, Barty was only ever vaguely familiar with the mechanics of a corset. He remembers his mother wearing it for some time before she started getting more ill and he’s never taken an interest in wearing one, unlike his father, they were too constricting for his liking. 

It wasn’t until he and Regulus grew closer did he learned to tighten or loosen the strings for there was nothing more intimate than hearing the way Regulus’ breath evens out with every string undone by Barty. Most, if not all the time, it would only ever be just the two of them in the bathroom, late in the night. After that, Barty would press soft kisses with his hands under Regulus’ long shirt carefully running over the smooth skin. They would stay like that for an undetermined amount of time before brushing their teeth and heading to bed, and this time, it was no different.

“I’ll go with you next time,” Barty said softly, trawling the string around his finger, “I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Regulus replies, “you’re busy, and it’s not like Slughorn is your biggest fan either.”

“Even more reasons to,” Barty grins, “and what type of boyfriend would I be if I’m not there to defend your honor? There are too many snobby and entitled members, I have to scare them off.” 

“As if anyone is good enough for Blacks,” Regulus scoffs, the air of arrogance from birth prevalent around him.

“Lucius?”

“Narcissa wanted him, not the other way around.”

“How about me?”

“You know exactly why,” is Regulus’ settled reply after a couple seconds of silence.

“Tell me again,” Barty leans down and presses his lips to their shoulder, “I want to hear it again.” He mumbles against the freckled skin. He’s loosened the corset but Regulus has not yet taken off the garment, leaving him free to toy with the strings, twirling them around his finger in a comforting motion. 

His lover tells him. The same words again and again. The same words that Barty will never tire of. The same words that increase the hole in his heart that craves for more of what Regulus gives in love.

[chaotic-starlight24]

Sodapop Curtis General Headcanons

Well y'all, here he is. Our pretty little boy. I love Soda so much though, I linger a bit on the sad stuff though :( I'll be covering Two-Bit next!

Freetime Headcanons

Warnings: Spoilers and Some angst

There was one book that he managed to read and actually enjoy, and that was The Phantom Tollbooth. He read it in middle school and his parents were very proud of him for finishing it AND not forcing him to read it. (He was probably forced by a teacher)

He pulls out snacks and drinks from EVERYWHERE. Like he has legit just been talking to Pony on the couch and pull a Pepsi-Cola from between the cushions.

I mentioned in my freetime post that he is really good at doing hair. So sometimes he helps out Two-Bit and his mom by doing Dolly’s (Two-Bit’s sister) hair. She always likes when he does it because if her brother does it she usually ends up with 2 crooked ponytails.

When they grow up, he and Steve plan to own a car shop together. Soda would also like to start a horse-riding club for rodeos and everything. As I mentioned in my Steve headcanons, Johnny and Steve did a design for fun of the future car shop but Soda and Steve do end up using it (with a couple tweaks). 

Is Soda innocent and sweet at all times? NO. He is not shy when it comes to flirting with people. But he is also very respectful of women whenever they come to the car shop. He only flirts if they try to flirt with him first. Only if they’re the same age as him ofc. But one time Steve had to take over because an older woman was making some really weird comments to him. 

He was the first one to make friends with Dally in the gang. Him and Steve were hanging out and they managed to get Two-Bit to come with them because Mrs. Curtis didn’t like the idea of them walking around alone. So they walked over to the diner to see if they could get a free drink or something and Soda looked over and saw him. This scruffy looking 13 year old, crouched at the end of the bar thing. Soda is the most golden retriever person ever so he immediately went to try and talk to him. Dally tried to push him away but soon enough he was dragged into their little group.

He can get very self-conscious since he is supposed to be the “pretty” brother and will occasionally be found by Steve, just looking in the mirror. He doesn’t really have dysmorphia of any kind and is actually quite confident but he still has those moments.

Soda was not shy at all when it came to pulling his teeth as a kid. It’s just a bit loose? He yanks it out because it's annoying. One time the dentist told him to expect a specific tooth to be loose and he just pulled it out right then and there. (ONE OF MY FRIENDS ACTUALLY DID THIS)

He is one of the most talented of the gang with gymnastics. His favorite trick to show off with is front-flipping into a handstand and spinning on one hand. Can this actually be done? Idk. Would it look sick? Oh yeah it would.

He has the most amazing and cute laugh ever. He looks majestic, sounds beautiful, just top-tier enjoyable laugh. He throws his head back a bit and has the most adorable crooked grin.

Now for a bit of angst >:) After Sandy he was a lot more sensitive when it came to flirting or mentions of romance. He really thought Sandy was the one. Soda does not get angry easily but after Sandy, that was the first time Steve saw him snap at a stranger. Some girls really wouldn’t leave him be and he went off on them.

After his main breakdown when Darry and Pony came after him, he was happy they came. Happy they helped him back up and heard him out. But a small part of him wish Pony wasn’t so dang fast and Darry wasn’t so dang strong. He wanted to just keep running. Run until he found Sandy. Run until he made it so far from Tulsa that no one knew what a greaser was. He knew a hug and some tears weren’t going to stop the fights between Pony and Darry.

He gets colds really easily but he can’t get cough syrup down his throat for his life. It doesn’t help that Darry has this really nasty stuff that tastes like honey and rotten eggs and is like 20 years old.

He has freckles. That’s all. They’re beautiful.

He is one of the few to actually take Two-Bit’s love of Mickey/Disney seriously. Two-Bit has even dragged him to a couple movies. His favorite one was Mary Poppins. He has attempted to dance like Bert does.

He is the most physically affectionate out of everyone in all of Oklahoma. The more friendly he is with you, the more he’s affectionate. When he and Steve are sitting together he just drapes himself across Steve while talking. When he listens to Pony he’s usually holding Pony or hugging him. If he’s dating someone, he’s kissing their face and holding their hand all the time. He’s just more comforted by it. Mr. Curtis was the same way. Just a little less.

A couple months before he dropped out some Socs stopped him in the hallways. They were trying to steal the pocket money he had. He tried his best to hold them off him but one of them started getting physical. Until one mentioned his big older brother and that they should be careful. But the main soc told him that Soda was too dumb to ever think about telling him, or anyone for that matter. Not a thing going on in that pretty little head of his. Eventually they did end up leaving him alone. But those words stuck with Soda. Dumb. That was the word that came up in his mind first when thinking about himself. He wasn’t much more, was he?

As mentioned in my Johnny headcanons, he was one of Johnny’s first friends. He was one of the few to hear all about Johnny’s thoughts. He just had that way of making people talk to him. He heard all about how worthless Johnny thought he was. How little confidence he had. He tried his best in encouragement but he knew Johnny wasn’t going to listen. Which made it all the worse once Johnny died. He toughed it out when around the gang but one day after his work, he walked to the graves. He kneeled in front of Johnny’s. And sobbed. The boy who died feeling worthless, in agonizing pain. His friend. One of his first. And now he was 6 feet under. Nothing would bring him back. And next to him? The other friend he brought into the gang. He never really understood Dally all that well, but that was one of his friends. Now both would never meet him again. No more giving Johnny a sandwich at the DX cause he had nothing better to do. No more dragging Dally away from Buck’s to go to rodeos with him and Steve. No more gang hangouts with them all together playing games.

When Pony came home and then Johnny and Dally died, Soda felt horrible for his little brother. He had to watch him become much more closed off and defensive. He could barely get Pony to open up to him. He was terrified Pony would never have a good friend again. Eventually Pony got a couple of friends (As mentioned in my Pony headcanons, he and Esther became better friends) and Soda felt a little more at peace.

With the whole Vietnam war thing… I do think he would end up going, BUT end up surviving. We can’t have Pony lose everything ok! He was put on the less violent jobs and not thrown head-first into battle. Let’s just say he was allowed to go home after 2 years at most. That is all I will cover on that subject.

He’s a pretty good singer and he and Darry jam out to Elvis all the time. He really does sing his heart out. If Blue Suede Shoes comes on you know he has a comb in hand and tries to dance like Elvis. He also loves “Please, Mr. Postman” and if he’s feeling dramatic “It’s My Party”.

He doesn’t really listen to his own emotions much or tell anyone about them. He feels he’s supposed to be the listener. Everyone’s going through so much more than him! So he needs to be there for them, not himself! The only person he’s been vulnerable around is Sandy. Steve as well. Which meant it hurt so much more when Sandy left him.

The Curtis Brothers have an elderly neighbor named Nellie, she's 92. Soda brings cake to her once a week and just sits and chats with her. She brings them berry jam.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Winter of 1975

Prompt Day 2: Winter Themed Sentence Starters | Word Count: 1200 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Mentions of Childhood Trauma, Innuendo | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Gift Giving, Softness, Steve POV

"Did I ever tell you about the winter of '75?" Eddie asks, curling up on the couch next to Steve, tucking his feet under him.

Steve shakes his head no, at least he doesn't think so. Or if he has, Eddie didn't word it like that.

"When you were ten?" Steve asks. 

Eddie nods, "When I was ten. My mom had died, you know, earlier that year. And my dad, well, you know."

Steve nods. He knows. He stretches his arm out, and lets Eddie curl into him.

"Well, Uncle Wayne was bound and determined to make it a good Christmas. It wasn't possible, not really, but he was gonna try his best."

Steve smiles, that sounds like Wayne. If there's anything Steve knows, it's that Wayne Munson loves Eddie. 

"Well, he took me sledding. I broke my arm. He bought a real tree. I was allergic to pine. We made hot cocoa on the stove, and I dropped it, nearly scalding my feet. Just, you know, everything that could go wrong, did. It's the Munson way," Eddie says, with a laugh. 

Steve kisses him on the head, and tries to remember what the Christmas of 1975 looked like for him. He imagines he got all the toys he wanted, and his parents hosted parties in their house that he wasn't invited to attend. Sitting on the second floor, little hands gripping the slats of the railing, just hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on, down below. Hoping to see his parents, for just a few minutes. The usual.

Those nights were always the worst. As soon as he got home from school, they'd feed him an early dinner and send him straight up to bed. And then the activity started downstairs, without him. He wonders now, as an adult, why they didn't just invite some kids? They could have still been corralled upstairs, away from the party, but he wouldn't have been all alone. Even if it was just Tommy H. That would have gone a long way to making them tolerable.

Eddie continues talking, "But Uncle Wayne kept trying. He bought me a Pet Rock," Eddie says, with a laugh. "I begged for it in the store, and it cost four dollars. He bought it and handed it over, and I opened the box. And it was a rock."

Steve laughs, he had one, too. Everybody did, he's pretty sure.

"Well, the name was pretty clear about what it was," Steve says.

"I know. I just wanted it to be something else, I guess. Something a little more lively. It was just a rock. Whoever invented that was a genius. Think of all the money they made. For rocks."

Steve smiles at him.

"But, Uncle Wayne just bought me some paints, and brushes, and told me to make it whatever I wanted it to be then."

Eddie smiles, "So I did. I gave it eyes, and some hair, and it looked a little goofy. But it had some personality."

"Like you," Steve says, hugging Eddie closer. 

Eddie just rolls his eyes, "Anyway. I loved it after that. But, I still had paint, so Uncle Wayne got me a sketchbook. And I started drawing, and then painting what I'd drawn. Like my own coloring book, but filled with everything I liked, and nothing for little babies," Eddie says, laughing. "The fridge was full of weird shit that was coming out of my brain."

Steve nods. Weird shit is still coming out of Eddie's mind, and he loves it all. Every last thing. He might not understand it all, but he likes that Eddie is curious about the world around him. That he has opinions. Strong opinions, sometimes, sure. Even wrong opinions in Steve's mind. But opinions. Eddie wants to talk about the things that run through his mind, and Steve wants him to, always willing to listen.

"Anyway. I learned to draw. To paint. To love art, because of that Pet Rock. I designed all my own tattoos. I did the Hellfire logo. It gave me an outlet I didn't know I needed or wanted."

Steve kisses his bare shoulder, hoping he'll continue. He loves to hear him talk. 

"Well, all that said," Eddie says, pulling a wrapped box out from under the coffee table, and handing it to Steve. 

It's not Christmas, not yet.

"It's not Christmas yet," Steve argues.

"It's not a Christmas present," Eddie says.

"The wrapping paper says otherwise," Steve teases, and Eddie laughs, pinching his side. It is wrapped in red, with a heavy fabric bow that there's no way Eddie did.

"Who wrapped this?" Steve follows up, needing to know. Because it damn well wasn't Eddie.

"Excuse you? You don't think I could wrap this?" Eddie asks, acting very affronted by this accusation.

Steve just raises one eyebrow.

"Erica did," Eddie mutters, "just open it."

So, Steve opens it, carefully. And when he pulls back the tissue paper, it's a painting of the two of them. From a million years ago. Walking through the forest. But it's not dark, and red, like it really was that night. Here, it's lush and green, with the sun shining overhead, casting gorgeous shadows all through the trees. 

It's stunning. 

Steve meets Eddie's eyes, "It's beautiful."

"Well, it's only beautiful because you are," Eddie says, and Steve blushes. Just a little. Even after all these years.

"When did you have time to do this?" Steve asks, because he definitely hasn't seen Eddie working on a canvas lately. He'd have noticed that. The mess alone. The mugs of dirty, paint stained water. The countertop lined with drying brushes.

He's seen no evidence of any of that. 

Eddie smiles, "I did it at Wayne's. During our Sunday morning breakfasts. We talked while I painted. And yes, I cleaned up my own messes," Eddie says, dryly.

Steve just smiles at him.

"It's really good, Eddie. Really, really good. You could do this, if you wanted to. For a living."

Eddie just laughs, "We definitely don't have the luxury of me painting with the hopes that I'll sell some of them. And that's okay. Maybe someday," Eddie says.

Steve knows he's right. They aren't exactly rolling in money, but maybe someday they'll be better off, and Eddie will be able to just stay home, doing something he loves. Wouldn't that be something?

"You know, I do have other ideas of things to paint…" Eddie trails off, and the glint in his eye means he's definitely up to no good.

"Oh lord, what?" Steve asks, suspicious of that look in his eye.

"How do you feel about posing nude for me?" Eddie asks, giving him the eyes.

Steve barks out a laugh. Sure. He'll pose nude for Eddie. It's not like he's shy or anything. Eddie has definitely seen it all before.

He only has one question.

"What are you gonna do with it once you're done?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrow, imploring for the truth.

Eddie just grins, that evil grin of his, and Steve shakes his head. Oh well. He definitely knew what he was getting into once he decided to spend his life with Eddie Munson. 

Notes: Pet Rocks were, in fact, all the rage for the Christmas of '75. A the guy who made them made, like, a million dollars. 🪨 💰

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