#i've also had a fucking headache since like f

[teddybeartoji]

everybody praise me tell me how proud you are i just had the most productive day ever!!!!!!! cleaned my room n changed my sheets n put my clothes away n dyed my hair (nothing crazy just the roots!!) n went to the cinema n then walked home!!!!!!!!!! the crowd cheerss!!!!!!!!

here's a pic of the sky:3333 i love you:33333333

[okiedokrie]

High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Ares, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

[mrsjavierpena]

not (un)expected | part 1

javier peña x f!secretary!reader

summary: Javier has one, only one very strict policy: to not ever fuck a co-worker; specially if that co-worker is his own secretary. but you make it such a hard promise to keep

chapter warnings: narcos' spoilers, smut, grinding, unprotected p in v, kind of exhibitionism, (light?) angst, a lot of cursing (its javier pena), kinda slow burn/slow start, unspecified age gap, work dynamics, reader has no name/descripition (but has hair long enough to pull), no use of 'y/n'

IMPORTANT: English is not my first language, i've done my best with grammar but there will be mistakes (fuck prepositions i hate them), so pls overlook those

wordcount: 7k

an: this is part one of a two part story; feel free to reblog and leave your comment. im so happy with the reception of this fic, its my first time posting something here, thank you guys so much for the support - also, if you want to be tagged in part two (really don't know when is coming out) just lmk in the comments.

hope you enjoy!

Javier was known for being an asshole.

Everyone in the office called him that; not to his face, of course, since he was the boss, but he knew, and honestly? He kind of did it on purpose. Being sent back to Colombia to be the CIA puppy didn't in fact thrilled him, but he also wasn't there to make friends. A little bit later than one month into his new position and Javier had already changed secretaries twice. Just by being himself.

The first one was a kind old lady that liked to talk a little bit too much for Javi's taste - which was none. To be fair, he tried to handle her. He listened to her talking of her yougest child finishing college, but she asked him if maybe he could get him a job at the deparment - what in the actual fuck? -, she felt the need to tell him that her older one and his wife were trying to have a baby - he wondered what gave her the impression he wanted to know that her son was fucking someone raw. She just wouldn't shut up. She left not much after a month, at his first snap - took him too long, to be honest.

The last one was a young man fresh out of the academy, who thanked him for the opportunity every time he saw him - which, since he was just outside his office, was pretty often. Despite how thankful he was for the job, he wasn't very interested in working, at least not as he was to flirting with another secretary in the floor below. But that wasn't the worst part, the kid had no idea what he was supposed to do and would go ask Javier for help for every task given to him - he swore he was shaking everytime. Javi didn't care that he was young and was learning, he didn't receive enough to raise a child at work. Didn't last a week.

Javier had headaches just by the thought of who would be sent next. With his current luck, it could be his ex-fiancée. He definitely didn't expect you knocking on his office door and introducing yourself as his new secretary. He was speechless for a moment; you were the combo of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life with a killing black pencil skirt, so tight it showed all your curves. You gave him a firm handshake and asked if he needed anything from you, and, when he denied, that was it. You went to your desk; didn't ask him questions, didn't tell him your whole life, didn't thank him for an opportunity he didn't give you, just went to do your work.

For a while, Javier was glad that you didn't give him any trouble, but that was until you quickly learned his habits. As soon as he arrived the office, you would receive him with a polite smile, a cup of black coffee and his schedule for the day. When he dove into files and forgot he was a person, you would bring him his lunch and wouldn't leave until he had at least a bite - as if he was a kid, what an absurd -, you would sense when he was stressed and would excuse yourself into his office with coffee and a pack of cigarettes and leave without saying a word.

He hated how much he appreciated that - even worse, how he liked that. It didn't take long for him to want to fuck you, to become obssessed with you. And it wasn't just him, he could see every other men in the department - single or not - turn their neck as they watched you pass by. But it was not just that you were hot, you were nice too; he would watch you from his office - not in a creepy way, though, he just didn't have anything much better to do - and you would distribute smiles and polite greetings to every soul that passed your desk, people would constantly stop by to small talk with you and you would let them be for five minutes or so before politely dismiss them to go back to work. Every fucking body there adored you.

Things had always been very professional between you both. Javi held back his flirty instinct and you- well, you didn't even seem interested in him at all. That was untill a very stressfull friday with Stechner giving him shit again. He left the building straigh to the bar, ready to drown himself on whiskey and find a quick fuck for the night, not expecting at all to find you aparently doing the same. Javier considered just ignoring you and go sitting with one of the women that turned their heads in his direction as soon as he entered, but something inside of him made him take the few steps to the bar and get the stool beside where you sat.

You almost spilled your drink when he approached.

"Sorry" you coughed "Wasn't expecting to see you here"

Your body language told him that you weren't comfortable with him there, he saw your backs getting as straight as when you were at work, and immediately regretted joining you.

"Well, that makes it two of us" he raised his hand to order his drink "What's the occasion?" he points to your drink with his chin.

Your grip on your glass seemed to tighten and you took one very long sip before answering dryly "I could ask you the same"

"Work" he raised his brows "It's always work"

"Did something happen after I left?" you pinched your brows.

"No, no, just people giving me shit"

"Oh, I see..." you sighed and silence fell between you.

"So..."

"Well..." you both started talking together and laughed akwardly.

"You go" you said.

"Am I bothering you? Cause I didn't mean to, I can sit somewhere else" he didn't even know why he was asking, he should've just said goodbye and left. He was already standing when your hand found his arm.

You sighed heavily "No, not at all, I'm sorry I gave that impression, sir" you seemed genuine, that's why he sat back "I'm just stressed"

Sir. Why were you calling him sir in a bar?

"Do you want to talk about it? If there's something bothering you we can discuss it and sol-"

"It's not work related" you were quick to interrupt "Work is, honestly, the simplest part of my life right now"

"Things must be pretty bad then, 'cause I see the amount of papers on your desk everyday" that made you chucke "The offer still stands, if you want to"

You took a big breath before dropping the bomb "Broke up with my boyfriend"

Now that was a new territory. He knew absolutly nothing about your life besides you moving to Colombia from the United States; he didn't know anything from your life back there, not your family, friends, definitely not about your boyfriend; and now, somehow, knowing you didn't have one anymore made it even harder for him not to want you.

"What happened?"

"Well, actually, it seems like we had already broken up a while ago and he just forgot to send the memo" you drank your whole half glass all at once ", since he was fucking every pussy that crossed his fucking way"

He was stunned. One thing about Javier was that he was never to deny any woman; honestly, he found every body attractive and apreciatted every woman that gave herself to him. He couldn't say he had a type, but you, with what he saw with your clothes on? He would fuck you every minute of everyday he could. It was absurd to believe someone would give up on you.

"Damn!" he couldn't help but say loudly, making your eyes go wide as if just then realising what you had just said.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this. I apologise, sir"

"You don't- don't apologise" he almost raised his hand to touch you, but stopped himself before "How did you find out?" you looked at him with raised brows "If you don't mind me asking"

"One of my friends called me last night and told me. She saw him at a bar with two women" you laughed, but there was no humor to be found.

"And you were still smiling at everyone at work today" he was impressed.

You smirked at him "Don't let my personal life mix with work, sir"

"Smart woman" he nods "We for sure have a reason to drink, then" waving his hand to the barman "Let me buy you one"

You don't even bother to refuse.

After three more glasses of what he found out was tequila, your shoulders were much more relaxed and so was your tongue. He found out that you and your ex had been dating for six years when you got the opportunity of job and had to move; two months had passed already.

"And you know what the worst part is?" your laugh is dry "I don't even feel bad because my heart is broken or any shit like that, it's just that is so fucking humiliating" you groaned with your hands on your face "I'm from a small town, you know, by now every soul there knows what he's been doing"

He had to laugh "That's what you're worried about?" you looked at him with false ofense.

"It's my honor we're talking about here!" he laughed even more "It's silly, I know..." you sigh shakly as you take another sip of your drink "But it is humbiling, being cheated on"

"I can't fucking believe anyone could ever cheat on you" he thought. At least he thought he did, but by the way you were looking at him - pinched brows and a curious look in your face, he had to have said it out loud "I mean, only shitty people cheat on nice people. Only shitty people cheat, that's it."

You nodded after a few seconds of silence "You're right, sir"

"You should stop calling me sir"

"I don't think so"

"Why not? We're already half drunk together at a shitty bar"

"Because you're still my boss"

Without any response to that, he looks at you. Really looks at you. Your eyes glassy from the alcohol, red puffy lips looking more appealing than ever... It would have been so easy to just lean in and kiss you. When his eyes came back to yours, it almost seemed like they were on his lips too, that you were leaning in too, that you desired him as much as he desired you and... Then it was not there anymore. Suddenly, you seemed farther than ever, backs as streight as always and eyes avoiding his.

"I should go home"

He agreed. He put you on a cab. He wished you a goodnight.

Then went back to the bar to find someone to not spend the night alone.

The next Monday, though, you seemed even more professional than ever. Wouldn't be around him more than the necessary, wouldn't look him in the eyes and it fucking bothered him.

"Yes, sir?" you entered his office after he called your name.

He sighs as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering to your skirt pressing against your tights "How are you?"

"I'm fine" you hesitated "Why do you ask? Is something wrong?"

"Lying to me, 's all" your eyes went wide "Listen, last night-"

Your nostrils flared, your hands clenching into fists; you took a deep breath before interrupting him "I am fine"

"Ok, then" he raised his hands in defensiveness "It's just that last night-"

"Last night I was drunk!" you passed your hands through your face "I said things I shouldn't have and I am embarressed and would very much appreciate if we pretended that it never happened"

Javier was silent for a moment. He understandood your apprehension, but damn if he wasn't dismayed by it.

"Alright, 'm sorry I brought it up. But just to let you know, you don't have anything to be embarressed for, you have my word that I wouldn't hold any if that against you and..." and it was nice to talk to you "Yeah, don't worry about that"

You looked at him for a few seconds before nodding "You need anything else, sir?"

Many things, yeah. For starters, you calling him by his name; second, being able to have a casual conversation with you when alcohol isn't envolved and third, your fucking clothes off because he got embarrassingly hard just by looking at you. But instead, he only denied and you left before any other word could leave his mouth.

Javi knew it was for the best. Fucking you would be no good - well, he'd bet it would be hot as shit, but too much trouble for a one night stand. He had a whole city to fool around with, to be focused in someone from his work place, his own secretary, was nonsense. You never even gave him any hint you wanted him, if anything, the actual opposite; you told him yourself last night, personal life away from work.

Javi made sure to remember all that.

➫

He didn't keep those thoughts for long, though.

A few days later, you met at a bar once again. A better one this time and with half of the office joined. It was Feistl's birthday and he invited the whole department for drinks. Nobody could hide their surprise when Javi aproached them; usually, he wouldn't attend this type of gathering, in his rarely free times, he better prefered the company of a good whiskey and a woman, and his colleagues knew that. His employee had invited him just to be polite and that was clear, but he knew you were going to be there, Javi just wanted one more opportunity to prove to himself that you didn't feel the same way he did, that he didn't have the same effect on you that you had on him. Once that prooved, he could move on. So he was there on a mission, trying to be the most discrete he could as he watched you from afar.

The two of you seemed to be the reflexion of each other from across the table, tense bodies and drinks in hand, the only difference being you talking with your colleagues and him not making the effort. To his defense, people weren't trying to talk to him either. Honestly, Javier kind of felt like it wasn't just that they were surprised to see him there, it felt like they didn't want him there at all by some looks he was receiving.

He was okay with that, he guessed, he would much rather analyse your behavior outside work. You didn't seem to change much, honestly; maybe your smile were a little bit more genuine, but the conversations were pretty much the same he heard you have back in the office and it could have been the larger amount of alcohol in your system that night, yeah, but you seemed more relaxed alone with him.

After half an hour there, Javi couldn't bring himself to talk to you, you seemed too interested in a conversation about the new coffee pot in the scullery with another secretary. He was getting frustrated, in another times he would interrupt the other woman and flirt with you effortlessly; it probably had to do with the environment, you were surronded by co-workers, or maybe he was losing his touch - it was almost like he was too afraid to make the move.

Javi decided to leave soon after one hour there. He congratulated Feistl for his birthday, said goodbye to whoever recognized his leaving, paid his bill and passed through the door.

"Hey" he turned around at the sound of your voice, seeing you walking towards him "Are you ok?"

He ran his hand over his chin "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know" you shrugged "you kind of ran out of the bar"

"'S fine, you should go back inside" Javi pointed at the entrace with his chin.

You tilt your head to the side "I don't really believe you"

"I'm not asking you to" he crossed his arms "And, what, you wanna talk now? You've been quiet at work all week"

"We're not at work, though, are we?" you were quick to answer.

Javi looked you up and down "No, we're not"

"You know" you took a few steps forward ", it's not like they don't like you, they are just kind of scared of you"

Were you watching him too? Why would you say that? How would you notice?

He furrowed his eyebrows "Scared of me? Why?"

You looked at him with yours raised "You know how you act at work, don't you?"

Javi sighed and looked away. He did act like an asshole at work, it didn't seem to bother you, though. Your gazes met again as silence fell between the two of you and he decided to take the few steps left to get you as close as you never got before.

"Are you scared of me?"

You kept your eyes locked as you answered "No. You're not as bad as you think you are" you licked your lips "At least not with me"

The air thickend between the two of you, the only sound being the noises of a night in Colombia. There was no way you were not feeling that too, the way your bodies seemed to linger to each other's direction. He's sure he's not imagining the way your breath heaved, how your chest expansed, the brightness in your eyes.

No, that was real, he was not mistaking it.

A voice broke the tension, you taking a few steps back to a safe distant from him. You both looked in the direction of the sound: a woman was calling you, the same woman you talked all night, at the entrance of the bar, a few feet away from where the both of you stood.

"Maybe if you went back there and paid the next round..." he swore he saw expectancy in your eyes.

"Maybe another time" you nodded; you both knew it wouldn't happen.

You looked at him one last time before walking away "Good night, sir"

Javi nodded even though you weren't looking anymore and his eyes followed the sweet swing of your hips as you made your way back to the bar. He could hear the woman asking what it was about:

"Nothing" you answered.

He would disagree.

➫

Javier was in a terrible, terrible mood. Things weren't going how he thought they would go, not even close to it. Feistl got a good lead about the Rodriguez brothers, one worth following, and he could do nothing about it; had to look to his subordinate and say no to his face. In the beggining, Javi had plans on reediming himself by catching Los Pepes, making amends with the city and it's people by arresting those who he felt like helped to ascend. He felt like a failure, and by the look on Feistl face, he thought so too. To worsen everything, as if it could get any, he had a huge, massive amount of piles to go through.

He lifted his eyes from the paper for the first time in hours when you knocked at the door. He knew your shift had ended a couple of hours ago, but you decided to finish the paperwork of the day so it wouldn't affect his own work the next morning, even though you couldn't have finished it on time because of the extra work put over you. It was something he frequently saw you doing, leaving much later than the others.

"I am leaving, sir. Is there something I could do for you?"

He scratched his chin and sighed heavily "Well, if you could make this fucking paperwork disappear I would built a statue of you"

You exiled a short laugh "I'm afraid that's not possible, sir"

"No, it's not" he reclined on his chair and looked at your body on the frame for a few seconds "Have a goodnight"

You nodded and left. He stood up to get a drink right after, hearing some noises outside that must have been you grabing your stuff. You were probably the last person on the floor besides him, and soon enough he would be alone, like he had been for so many nights, working until late, only able to go home to shower and come back. It wasn't much trouble, though, it's not like he could sleep even if he had the time.

A soft knock on the door surprised him, glass and bottle on each hand.

"Sorry to bother again" you said with only your head in the room after he told you to come in "But do you want help?"

He looked at you, at the pile and then at you again "You wanna help me with that?" you nodded "Why?"

"Nothing better to do" you shruged.

He should've said no. Should've told you to go home and have some rest.

He should have, yes.

"Have a sit" he pointed to the couch with the piles of papers he's been on for the last three hours.

You closed the door behind you and something on his skin tingled. You had never been this alone.

"Want a drink?" you didn't hesitate in accepting, as if waiting for him to offer.

Javier poured you one too and handed you the glass, something you thanked him for as you took a sip and he sitted beside you. You two stayed in silence reading, the only sound being the papers as you tossed them around.

"Can I give you an unasked opinion, sir?"

He almost laughed at that "Go ahead"

"You're separating these by topics, I see" he nodded "Taking one paper at the time and seeing what they are and then doing them separetly " he nodded again "I think it would be quicker if we made piles by the specific topics you have"

"You mean..."

"I mean" suddenly you stood up from the couch and knelt on the floor. Fortunally you didn't see his eyes going wide as you took a pile in your hands and put it beside you "You have a huge office, you should put the files on display and organize them better" you looked at him while taking the other piles "You helping?"

He smirked and hushed to help you. He liked this side of you; more relaxed, kind of bossy, tongue more loose... It was a shame you only showed him when there was alcohol running through your system.

"This, if you don't mind me saying, is how I organize the piles on your desk when I bring them to you, but you seem to prefer the hardest way"

Fuck, he was getting hard.

It was nuts. Absolutly nuts. What the fuck was happening, what effect was that you had on him? You did nothing but say a few dirty words without intention. Completely. Nuts.

"I do prefer the hard way" came out of his mouth before he could control it. If you didn't notice the double meaning or chose to ignore it, he didn't know "But I never noticed, no" he sighed "Honestly, I don't even know how it got to this point"

The paperwork, somehow, did accumulate, even though all he did of his life was working.

"I understand, I can see how you get lost in work" your focus was on the papers and you didn't seem to notice how he shifted on his place on the floor, trying to hide the beggining of an erection.

With your efficiency and new way of working, one hour and a half later and almost the whole paperwork gone, you're on your third glass and him on his fourth. He's used to drinking whiskey, but it was still alcohol, and it was making his skin buzz. You had already took off your blazer - his own gone hours ago - , wearing a thin blouse with a very modest neckline; your legs were crossed, making your skirt move up a little, and he was going crazy with just the tiny amount of skin you were showing.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead" you didn't even move your eyes from the paper.

"Why didn't you go home?"

You don't talk for a few seconds and he took the opportunity to stare "There's nothing waiting for me at home"

That got him thinking about your moving there. To go from a small town in the countryside to a city like Bogotá, not knowing a soul; you had acquaintances, yes, but he saw you that day at the bar, they surely were people you liked to be with, but were not friends of yours. Javi had been there, too, actually, if he would be honest with himself, he was still in the same situation. When he moved to Medellín, he had those people he could go out with and grab a drink after work, but that was all; at least until Steve came into the picture, the person he never thought he would befriend with, the only real friend he'd had in years.

"Yeah, I kind of get that" your eyes meet "Work until late for a reason"

"I guess we both need to get a life, then" you smirked.

"Cheers to that" he raised his glass to you, you did the same until it clicked with his "So, life... How is yours going?" he tried to act nonchalant by moving his eyes on the paper in his hand "With that ex-boyfriend thing and all"

Your laugh was low "Don't do that"

"Do what?" he raised his eyes again to find yours still on him.

You tilted your head to the side "Don't go down that road when we're like this"

"Like what?" he caught the exact moment your eyes fell to his lips, so he casually wet them with his tongue. If he wasn't so absorbed by the thickness in the air, he would have laughed at the way your eyes shut and your head fell back to rest on the couch.

"Drunk and... Not thinking straight"

Javi raised his eyebrows "I like the winding thoughts I'm having, though"

"Yeah" the look you gave him made him shiver.

Without breaking eye contact, Javi belted down his drink to gain courage and slowly moved his body until you were pressed side by side, giving you time to get your space again if you wanted to.

"This fine?" his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

You nodded.

"What if I wanted to kiss you right now?" he rested one forearm on the couch to lean his face closer to yours.

You gulped as you stared into his eyes "Then I think you should do it before we-"

He didn't give you the time to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. Your lips were soft, he could taste the whiskey on your tongue as well with the gums you would chew all day. His right hand went straight to your jawline to lead the kiss. It was not a lulled kiss, neither a gentle one, Javier was ruthless, taking out on your lips all the built up tension from the last few months. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. You were quick to follow his pace, your fingers grasping his shirt and pulling him even closer. The first moan you let out get Javi even more eagered, his hand passing down your body to grab your ass. You took advantage of his action and, before he knew, you were climbing up his lap, knees on each side of his torso, and once you were fully sitted on his lap, you both couldn't contain a moan. At that point, your skirt barely covered half your ass; because of that, he figured that you wouldn't mind his hands slowly rubbing up your tights until they reached the fabric and rolled it up your waist.

Javi parted your mouths to take a good look at you on his lap, his eyes wandered from your heavy eyelids, your lips puffy and red from the kisses, your blouse-covered chest raising and falling as fast as his until they got to the black thong you were wearing and he couldn't help but moan "Oh, fuck me"

"You like them?" your mouth came down his neck to give him wet kisses.

"How wouldn't I?" he held you by the nape of the neck and brought your mouths together again "I've wanted this for so long"

You released some kind of laughter "I know"

"Oh, do you?" he raised his brows.

"You're not exactly subtle for an agent" you murmured between kisses.

He snorts "Well, thanks for the insight"

Javi couldn't resist the urge to touch you through the tiny piece of fabric and you moaned at the pressure at your clitoris, but he moaned too at the wetness he found.

Javi didn't ask you how long you had wanted him, you were grinding on his lap at that moment and that was all that mattered. But he wished you had said it, that you had desired him as much as he had desired you, that all this time he had been imagining this moment, you were imagining it too.

"Fuck baby, you are so wet already" his tongue licked a stripe on your neck "All this for me?"

You answer was muffled by a moan; it seemed positive, but before he could confirm you were linking your mouths again in a searing kiss.

You started moving your hips on his erection and you both moaned at the pressure. Suddenly, his torso is being pushed down to the ground, chests pressed against each other, your fingers tangled his hair and pushed and he fucking whimpered.

Jesus Christ, he was in heaven and was not even inside of you yet.

You grinded furiously against him and he found it absolutly beautiful how you were using him to pleasure yourself and was not embarressed to do so. So. Fucking. Hot.

He felt like he was coming in any second.

"Fuck, you keep doing that and will have me cumming on my fucking pants, bebita"

"Oh, say it again!"

"What? That I'm within seconds to cumming?"

You moaned loudly at that "No- I mean, that too, that's hot, but- oh fuck"

"Bebita?" he felt you shiver at the pet name and chuckled "You like that, huh?"

You grabbed the nape of his neck and lowered your head to crush your lips to his again, tongues fighting heatedly. Javi started to feel that heat boiling at the bottom of his stomach, his hips grinded against yours and the pressure were just perfect; by the sounds you were making, you were as close as he was. Javi reached for you ass and grabbed it with both of his hands and squeezed, adding even more pressure to the grindness. At last, he sucked the pulse in your neck and you started to shake above him; that combined with the sweet noises that came out of you, he was gone.

You collapse on top of him, fingers unconsciously running through his hair; his members were sore and he was so tired and satisfied that he could sleep right there. The both fo you took deep breaths while your head rested on the gap of his neck and his on the floor.

"I can't remember the last time I did this" he was the first to break the silence.

"I actually do this everyday to my pillow" you mumbered humurously and he moaned.

"Shit, you're gonna be the death of me" his hand ran up and down from your ass to your backs, loving the feeling of your curves.

You raised your head to find his eyes and the moment was gone. You both realizing what you just had done, the before contentedness in him that was mirrowed in your eyes then turning into panic.

"Shit" you clumsly stood up. You put your skirt down as quickly as you could.

"It's getting late" it was already late when you came to his office "I should go" you should stay, he wanted to say.

But instead he only nodded. He knew it was for the best. He shouldn't have let it come this far.

You quickly get your stuff and wishes him a goodnight. His eyes don't leave you until you pass through the door, yours, though, don't meet him once.

He stayed there on the floor, cum staining his pants, and even though he was fully clothed, the room had never felt colder.

➫

The next day was pure craziness. After you left his office, Javi went home, took a shower and lied in bed thinking of what had just happened between the two of you and what would happen from then on until he had to come back to work. Before he could even get to his office, you intercepted him with a cup of coffee and the news of a surprise and excruciating slow meeting with the ambassador, which led to another one with the CIA and then the atrocious combination of them both together. By the time Javi was freed from hell, everybody else were already leaving; due to your situation, he thaught that would be your case too, so he was surprised to see you still on your desk.

"I was waiting to see if you would need something else from me before I left" was your answer to the question on his face.

"I think I'm heading home too, actually" after a day like that, he felt like maybe he could even get some sleep.

He had work to do, yeah, and usually it didn't matter to him if his mind wasnt in the right place - it rarely was anyways -, but he knew nothing productive would result from working in that state. Javi also wanted to talk to you; he had so many thing in his mind, what he thought about during that whole previous night: he wanted you. So bad he didn't even know how to express it, so much he let himself cum in his pants just to get the little you were wailing to give to him. And he was concerned about what your reaction to that would be, because it was obvious that you wanted him too, but your actions showed him that you didn't want to want him. All those thoughts were consuming him, but it would have to wait for another day, he didn't think that was the right time, not at work. Maybe he could invite you for drinks and talk things through or-

"I was wondering if we could talk, too" you interrupt his thoughts "About yesterday"

If Javi wasn't a trained professional, he probably would've had his mouth opened in absolut shock. It was like you read his mind.

"Of course" you both looked around the department, the couple people remaining already preparing to leave. Still, he opened his office door and nodded for you to come in.

You were flustered, nervous even. Javi didn't know what to expect from that talk, he wished you would cave in to your needs and fuck him already, but he felt like you wouldn't be easy on him. Honestly, he couldn't read you.

The both of you stood akwardly in the middle of the room, door closed behind you. He waited patiantly for you to start talking, for you to take the lead of the conversation.

"So" you sighed "I wanted to apologise"

His face contorted in a deep frown "What for? You have nothing to apologise"

"I do, yes" you shook your head "It was completely irresponsible and unprofessional and we shouldn't have done that"

If you said you were embarressed last time, about the things you had said on the bar, Javi didn't know what you could possibly be feeling at that moment: your face was getting red, your eyes wouldn't meet his, your hands squeezed each other in your front; he kind of felt bad he was the cause of your discomfort.

"You didn't do anything by yourself"

"I jumped on you like a crazy-ass-horny woman!" over your shoulder, you look outside to see if there was anyone to witness your voice raising; there wasn't.

Javi could barely contain the smirk forcing itself upon his mouth at the memory of you riding him in that very same floor, just a few steps from where you stood. He really couldn't contain the beggining of an erection, though.

"And I loved that" you looked at him as if he was crazy for saying it "I did!" he took a few steps in your direction "And honestly, if anyone should be blamed it's me, I'm the boss, aren't I? The authority in the room or some shit like that"

The way you look at him said that you agreed, that he should be blamed too, should've had more self control, but you didn't say it and that made him smile, the way you still tried to keep your composure at work.

You sighed "Still, it wasn't right and I'm sorry"

"I'm not" he took another step towards you.

"It's not the point, sir"

"I don't think you are that sorry either" your brows raised in surprise "And fucking quit calling me 'sir' now, there's just us in here" another step.

"I'm just-" you shrugged "I'm trying to be professional, that's all"

"Baby we're a little too late for that now"

"Jesus Christ" you pinched the bridge of your nose, he could feel the frustration exhaling from you "You don't like to make things easy, do you?"

"What's the fun in that?" the joke landed flat "I have a proposal"

That got your attention "I don't think I like where this is going"

"Well, that's the thing" he took one more step "I think you do. You fucking grinded on me on this floor until we both came. You want me. What are you so afraid of?"

"You're my fucking boss!" your exasperation made him want to laugh and scream out of frustration at the same time "I like this job, I want to keep it"

"I would never put your job in risk"

"You can't be sure" it was true, Javi barely had a say in anything, but he would do anything in his power for you not to lose your job, especially because of him "And even if this" you pointed between the two of you "didn't make me lose it, it would be living hell if people found out"

"I can be discreet"

You crossed your arms "You're not taking me seriously"

"I am, I promise that I am" he really was "I just- You gave me a taste of what it would look like and now I'm starving for more" he scratched his chin, a little embarressed he let that slip out "I would do anything to have you for one night, we don't have to take work to the bedroom"

"Oh" you snorted "there's a bedroom in the scene now?"

"What?" he raised his brows "You thought I was fucking you in my office?" you went silent "You fucking did"

Javi is no romantic man, he thought about fucking you in every place possible, in the bathroom there, against the nearest wall, but when truly thinking about taking you, it would always be in a bedroom, somewhere you both would be able to take your time.

"Do you fantasize about it?" a step closer "Do you touch yourself thinking about me?" your eyes wouldn't meet his, so he carefully took your chin and angled your head until they did "Where?"

You gulped "Where what?"

"Where did you imagine?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Your desk"

"Fucking dirty woman" he smirked "I'm gonna fuck you on my desk, bebita" he took you by the waist, colliding your body to his "And on my couch" his nose traveled from your cheek to your neck "On the fucking window so eveyone can see how pretty you will look with my cock deep inside of you"

"Shit" your voice broke, breathless.

"Do you want it? Huh? To be full of my cock?" you nodded "I want words"

"Yes" you puffed.

"Yes what?"

You looked at him with a defiant look "Yes, sir"

He had to laugh "You are the worst"

His lips collided with yours with so much fierceness he was surprised they didn't start bleeding. His hands were all over your body, your breasts, your back, your ass. You pulled his hair with both hands and he moaned. Javi wanted you so bad it hurt. He decided to be bold and lifted you skirt to your waist, then placed you sitted on the edge of his desk, each of your legs on each side of his hips, pushing everything that was on your way to the floor, paying no attention to anything that wasn't you.

"I hate how you kiss me" you mumbled frustrated between kisses and he pinched his brows.

"You have a very distinct way to hate things"

"You just do it so well" your hands covered his cheeks "Makes me want to do this everyday"

Javi couldn't help but to smirk "I don't see why we can't"

"Yes, you do"

"All I see is a gorgeous woman with tasteful lips" he reached your covered mound and passed a finger through your folds, making you moan loudly ", wet lips" he smirked "telling me she wants to kiss me foverer"

You snorted "I didn't say that"

"That's what I heard"

"You are so cocky" you rolled your eyes.

"Damn right I am" Javi pressed his erection to your thigh.

"Yeah, I felt it yesterday" your hands went to unbuckle his belt, quickly reaching for his cock through his underwear and pumping him a couple of times "You're big, sir"

Javi moaned and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling, barely believing it was finally happening. You put down every piece of cloth in your way to his thighs, put your own panties to the side and started to guide him to your entrance.

"You think is gonna be that easy?" he murmured in your ear, dodging his dick to press on your clit instead, making you moan at the contact, but also groan out of frustration.

"After all this time, it should be"

"You know what I want to hear, baby" he peppered kisses on your neck while still grinding his dick from your clit to your entrance, you were so wet he knew you would have no difficulty to take him.

"Put this thing inside of me, already" you tried to move your hips to get more friction, frustration consuming you.

Even though Javi had a purpose of you to stop calling him 'sir', he could barely hold himself from sliping inside of you, so that's what he did. Your moan as he slowly made space for him inside of you will forever be in his mind. Javi cursed under his breath as your walls squeezed him and he had to take a moment to absorb the feeling. So warm, so wet, so tight, he was in heaven. But you were impatiant.

"Please, move"

"Say my name and I will"

"Why are you so attached to this?" you pinched your brows.

He did the same "Why are you so against saying it?"

You licked a stripe on his neck "To piss you off"

"That's okay" he smirked "You don't have to say it, I'm gonna make you scream it" he held your legs and roughly pushed inside expecting to hit your special place; by the way you gasped and grabbed him, he got it just right "Found it"

Javi ran his nose through your neck and your skin bristled "You're so sensitive here, aren't you, bebita?"

"I'm starting to think that you make me sensitive everywhere"

He laughed and stopped his movements again "Now that's a confession"

"What can I say?" you huffed "It seems like you make my mind go blank when you have your huge dick inside of me and won't. fucking. move"

He laughed and started to slowly take it out just to push it in again at the same speed.

"You're gonna fucking kill me" you whined "Please, faster"

"Are you needy, baby?" he licked your neck "I can feel you squeeze me. You're desperate for my cock, huh?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?

"Yes, sir"

He increased the speed and you moaned louder "Unbelievable" his hips were reletless and he felt you getting tighter and tighter "You're almost there, aren't you, baby?" you couldn't speak, mouth half opened and nails digging into the skin of his arm "You like it rough, don't you?"

Then he stopped.

"What the fuck?" your voice is hoarsed.

"I'm fucking you slow, baby, is that a crime?" his smile was smudge

"You're evil" you whined, hips moving to find relief.

"I am evil? Who are you to talk about evil? You're fucking teasing me here, bebita. That's so wrong" he started to move slowly again "Just say my name and I'll let you cum"

You nodded your head no.

"Say it"

"No"

"Fucking say. It." he changed the angle to repeatedly hit that spot inside of you and pulled your hair until your back arched.

"Oh my God, Javi!" you screamed as you came hard on his dick, eyes closed tight, mouth opened and body tremblimg.

His name coming out of your mouth was like music to Javi's ears, and hearing it for the first time fomented something insane inside of him. He licked his thumb and pressed it hard against your clit, your eyes widened in surprise and he got a strangled sound out of your mouth as you came again, your body violently shaking under his hands.

"Oh shit, that's it, baby. You're fucking milking me. Shit, shit, shit."

His name was now floating through your lips like a hymn, and he loved to hear it.

"I'm gonna cum"

His words seemed to wake you from your trance "On my mouth"

"Shit" he steped away and out of you and one second later you were on the floor, knelt before him. You grabbed his dick with one hand, put the tip in your mouth and that's all it took for him to cum the hardest he had in his life. You sucked it, greedy until he had nothing more to give you "Let me see it, baby" he asked with a hoarsed voice, asking you to open your mouth, showing that you had swalloed it all "Fucking dirty woman"

You smirked and rested your forehead on his thigh, exausted.

"Come 'ere" he took your hand on his and got you to your feet, holding you against him by your waist "Can you walk?"

"I think I can learn how to do it again, yeah" he chuckled.

Javi lowered your skirt before sitting you on his desk again "How are you getting home?" he asked quietly as he slowly buttoned up your blouse, trying not to startle you and have you running away again.

"I'm taking a cab" you more gently than not stopped his fingers to continue the work yourself.

"Let me take you home" he fished your panties from the floor and put it in his pocked as he wore his pants again

"You don't have to"

"I know I don't. But I'm kind of worried if you will be capable to support yourself for enough time to call a cab after I fucked you this good"

You released the louder chuckle he had ever heard you give as you stood up "You're the absolute worst, Javier."

He started to get hard to the sound of his name on your lips.

"See? Perfectly stable" one of your eyebrows was raised and all he wanted to do was to kiss your attitude away.

"I guess I'll have to fuck you harder next time, then"

"I guess"

You both went quiet as you made your way out of the building and to his car, you only speaking to give him instructions to get to your place.

"There will be a next time, right?" he spoke as you left the car.

How silly of him to think that fucking you once would be enough, would make all the consuming desire go away, if something, it only made him want you more.

You took your time to look at him, as if staring directly to his soul and gave him a small smile.

"Good night, Javi"

[bbyquokka]

i'll be yours

pairing: bang chan x fem reader

genre: smut – MDNI

synopsis: unable to stop thinking about that night, reader confronts chan resulting in a confession and a night of passion.

warnings: smut, ghosting, unestablished (turned established at the end) relationship, virgin reader, inexperienced reader, fingering, protected sex (piv), oral sex (f rec), alcohol consumption, pet names 

words: 3.9k ~ (3930)

♡ part one — ♡ m.list��— ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

time has passed since that day. everything went back to normal. you continued on with your life and chan continued on with his. no harm done, right?

expect, you haven't been able to stop thinking about that day. the way chan felt on your skin. how his hot breath would tickle the skin of your inner thigh before his soft lips would press against them. them same lips sucking and eating out your cunt like a starved man.

you orgasmed, naturally. but when you wanted to do something for him, he refused. you had that sinking feeling in your stomach, slowly rising to the back of your throat. he refused to give you eye contact, saying a quick goodbye before rushing out of your apartment with a raging hard-on.

you know chan better than anyone else on this planet so you know how much he loves sex. you'd go as far to say that he's a slight sex addict so it made no sense why he would rush off so quickly.

you thought nothing of it and brushed it off. however, chan is now ghosting you. you let him off the hook the first few text messages and phone calls, making up excuses for him in your head. but it's been weeks and still, he refuses to return your calls and texts.

did the thought of you being a virgin scare him off? you don't have experience, that's for sure unless you count watching endless amounts of porn videos. but porn is fake, it's exaggerated to make the viewer feel something. porn videos only has one purpose and that's to help the viewer ‘get off’

you hate feeling like this. feeling constantly anxious and worried about the whole situation. you don't want to regret what you and chan did, but with the way he is acting towards you, you're forced to.

you tried, you really did. you tried to forget about that day, about him but you can't. every time you close your eyes you can see him. his head between your legs, his fingers digging into your skin making indentations and small bruises. how he moans and complements you, constantly reassuring and praising you.

he was so kind, so gentle but now, he's like a stranger–and you hate that.

deciding that wallowing around in your own self pity was doing more harm than good, you decide to go out. have one or two drinks, dance with a few strangers then go home for the night. what you didn't bank on was that same man that has been clouding and consuming your thoughts to be at the same bar with his one night stand, of course.

“chan?!” you shout loud enough for your voice to be heard over the music. the bass vibrating, ear drums ringing with a small headache approaching to accommodate. 

“yn..” chan swallows, placing his glass down on the table. he shifts on the spot feeling a little awkward. your rosy cheeks and doe eyes are all too familiar to him. flashbacks of that night flashing in his mind, blood rushing south fast.

“what are you doing here?!”

“could ask you the same question.” he chuckles. 

“why haven't you been returning my calls or texts?!” your brows furrow as chan rubs the back of his neck in a sheepish manner.

“i've urm, i've been busy yn.” you roll your eyes at him, tongue in cheek.

“busy?” you scoff. the alcohol in your system rushing to your head, clouding your thoughts and better judgment. a wave of confidence washes over you. “as in fucking an endless amount of people?”

chan swallows before sighing. you turn your attention to his plus one, smiling sweetly as you take a sip from your beverage.

“don't think yourself so special darling. chan doesn't do relationships. you're just another person to add to his body count.” the alcohol definitely talking at this point. you try to hold yourself back, but it's no use. the anger you feel, the regret seeping from your pores.

his plus one scoffs before walking away, chan shaking his head slowly. you smirk, giving his plus one a small wave in a sarcastic manner.

“do you have to?” chan sighs. you cock an eyebrow.

“do i have to what? i mean, you're the one that ate me out and then decided to ghost me, chan.”

“that wasn't my intention..”

“no?! then why do it?”

“because..”

“because what chan?! is it because i'm a virgin? i know i don't have experience but if that's the case, then that's fucked up!”

“no! i–”

“you knew it was my first time being eaten out chan!” you interrupt him, the alcohol soon fading away as your emotions override your thoughts. “you eat me up and you're quick to leave me, confused. and on top of that, you fucking ghost me!”

“i'm sorry yn. i know it was so shitty of me to do that but–”

“you don't have to worry about me being bad chan. i've watched so many porn videos that i think i know what i'm doing. i mean, i know i'm not as skilled as your previous one night stands but i can improve.” you ramble.

“yn!” the firmness of his voice shocks you a little, making you pout and look at your feet.

“i know no amount of sorrys can make up for my shitty behaviour towards you but if you just shut up for one second and let me explain.” chan chuckles softly, his tone of voice soft and playful letting you know that he is joking.

“sorry.” you mumble as you look at him, holding up your glass “think i've had a bit too much to drink..”

“yeah, no shit.” you flush a soft pink colour as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“the reason i left so sudden that day was because i was scared, yn.”

“scared?” you tilt your head to the side as chan hums and nods. “why?”

“because i didn't want to hurt you. i could feel myself getting so overwhelmed and feral. the softness of your skin, the sinful yet sweet moans. i felt so.. animalistic.. like, i wasn't there. and it scared me yn because if i stayed, i would've hurt you.”

“but.. why did you ghost me after?”

“because every time i see anything remotely about you, it takes me back to that day. i wanted to forget yn, to keep the image i have of you pure and innocent but fuck.. since that day, my head has been so consumed with sinful thoughts of you. i want to ruin you, corrupt you yn..”

“i still don't understand chan.. why do you feel like that about me? is it just me or do you feel like that about your other one night stands?”

“no, i don't yn. these past few days being away from you has made me realise something, something i've been so ignorant to. a feeling i've been concealing in the form of sex.”

“huh??” you tilt your head, feeling confused as ever. chan takes your hand that's not holding the glass, intertwining his fingers with yours. you blink at him as you watch, his face softening and eyes sparkling.

“i like you, yn.”

“oh!” you grin, “i like you too! you're like, my bestest friend ever, chan!”

chan sighs softly as he laughs, shaking his head.

“y'know, for someone so smart, you really are a little dense, yn.” you furrow your brows, taking slight offense to that sentence.

“he–” you being to protest only to be silenced by the feel of another's lips. your mind turns blank as your body is still like a statue. your eyes widen at the sudden action, the familiar wispy bits of black hair the only thing you see. 

his lips are soft. the kiss is gentle with little to no pressure being put into it. it's close to being just a simple peck but the way his lips linger on yours is telling you is more than that.

your mind works on overdrive as you fail to push him away due to the fact that you don't hate it. it feels normal, natural. you've spent days wondering and filling yourself up with anxiety over whether you and chan would still remain friends and it turns out that you'll both be something much more.

chan pulls away slowly, laughing at your shocked expression that's paired with rose tinted cheeks.

“do you understand now, yn?” he says softly. “do you understand why i distanced myself from you?”

“i do..” you whisper. it's just you and him together, in a club full of drunk adults grinding on one another, yet, you can't hear the noise. it's blurred out, a distance noise in the background. the only thing you can focus on is chan, the kiss and the way your heart is erratically thumping against your rib cage.

“you didn't have to leave..” you mumble as you chew your lip. chan tilts his head to the side in confusion.

“excuse me?”

“that day.. you didn't have to leave. you could've stayed.”

“yn.. what are you implying?” you twiddle your thumbs before combing your fingers through your hair.

“that i wanted you to stay with me.” you whisper, swallowing thickly as chan gives you slow blinks as he tries to process everything.

“even after everything i've confessed to you, you still want me?”

“yes. i want to finish what we started.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“are you sure yn?”

“yes chan. for the millionth time yes. just shut up and eat me.” you groan as you push his head down between your legs earning yourself a chuckle.

“impatient much?” he hums as he squeezes your thighs gently.

“i haven't stopped thinking about this, about you.” 

“oh really?” a hint of cockiness dripping from chan's words as he peppers kisses along your inner thighs. goosebumps rise and ripple along your skin, making you whimper and squirm.

“really. every time i closed my eyes, all i could see was you between my legs again.”

“and what was i doing, angel?” he purrs as he looks up at your flustered state through his lashes.

“chan…” you whisper, feeling heat rise up your neck to sit dormant on your cheeks.

“tell me angel. what was i doing?” he ghosts his fingers up and down your inner thigh.

“you were kissing me…”

“like this?” he asks before planting soft and gentle kisses along your inner thigh, occasionally sucking and squeezing to leave purple bruises behind.

“yes..” you breathe out.

“what else angel?”

“and then you…” you trail off, whimpering softly as chan raises his eyebrow at you.

“go on.” he hums. you chew your lip gently, swallowing thickly as embarrassment fills your entire body. you've never done dirty talk before, the only explicit thing you've done is be eaten out–by the same man that's between your legs, yet again.

“y-you..” you stammer, words lodged in your throat due to embarrassment and fear. chan notices due to the fact he reaches up and laces his fingers with yours. he gives you a reassuring and gentle smile whilst his thumb strokes the back of your hand slowly.

“it's ok. it's just you and me, darling.”

“sorry.” you mumble. “i've never done something like this before so it's all new to me.”

“i know darling. do you want to do this with me? as in go all the way?”

“you mean as in…?” chan hums and nods his head. you've always imagined your first time being something magical and exciting. you wanted to give your virginity to someone you trust with your whole life, someone who will love and protect you for eternity. who will put a ring on your finger, walk you down the isle and start a potentially family with you.

looking back at chan, you get flashbacks of his confession back at the club. your heart hammers against your rib cage as you recall his expression–that of a love sick puppy. that's when it hits you, like a bullet to the heart; chan has always looked at you like that.

your first time may not be as magical as you had hoped, but one thing you know for sure, is that chan will vow to love and protect you.

“i want it. i want you to be my first.” blood rushes to chan's cheeks (and penis) as his heart thumps erratically against his chest to the point where he thinks he might be having a heart attack.

“are you sure?? like, 100%” his voice laced with concern. he wants to hear it, hear the confidence in your voice that tells him;

“yes. i'm sure.”

chan closes his eyes slowly as he inhales deeply. now is not the time to be animalistic. it's your first time, he has to be gentle. imagine that you're some type of art work that's delicate to the touch. he can't ruin you–not yet anyways.

with a simple nod and “ok” from him, he dives back between your legs. he gentle sucks on your clit whilst squeezing your inner thighs gently. he licks, sucks and gently nibbles, soft hums of contentment ripple from the back of his throat.

you groan softly, fingers automatically tangling in chan's hair. you feel the muscle of his tongue dip between your folds and lap at your juices. your taste coats his taste buds, making him shiver and relive the previous night that he has burned deep inside his brain.

“gosh, you're so beautiful.” he mumbles before his tongue dives into your entrance. you don't have time to retaliate. just a simple, unplanned moan was all you could muster from the sudden feeling.

you feel the pad of his thumb rub slow circles on your sensitive clit. it's enough pressure to make you feel something, to make you arch your back up off the back and groan loudly.

“c-chan!!” you whimper. your hair sticking to your skin due to it coating in sweat quickly. that all too familiar knot in the pit of your stomach tightening and tightening. your thighs start to shake, breathless pants and empty moans fall past your now dry lips.

chan carries on assaulting your cunt with his tongue and thumb. he'd occasionally look at you through his lashes, his cock twitching at the sight of your rosy cheeks and glass eyes.

“chan.. please.” you effortlessly pant as chan smirks against your pussy. he removes his tongue and pulls away to kneel between your legs. you watch him as sits back on his feet. his chin and lips glistening with saliva and spit.

he uses two fingers to rub between your folds. he keeps his eyes on you at all times to grab a hint of discomfort from you. he slowly pushes one finger inside, pushing until he's at the first knuckle. he's welcomed by warm and squishy walls that contract around the single digit.

he slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your brows furrow together and body twist side to side. you've fingered yourself before, plenty of times in fact, but nothing compares to what you're feeling now.

chan's fingers are thicker, he has technique. his finger curls against your walls as it caresses them. his finger becomes slick with your juices. the wet, sloppy sounds echoing in the bedroom; an embarrassing reminder that this is all new to you.

“more.” you groan out as chan picks up the pace.

“more? are you sure?”

“yes! please, i want more.” your mind is foggy. the words that come out off your mouth feel alien–like it's not you that's talking, but someone else who's much more experienced.

chan nods before adding in a second finger. you groan once more as the feeling of his thick fingers fill you up so effortlessly. he curls them as he pushes more inside you. you pant heavily as he pumps them at a reasonable pace, occasionally scissoring you.

you tighten around chan. a sudden shock of pleasure rushes down your spine as chan rubs your clit with his free hand. the knot tightens, legs quiver as you grip onto the sheets.

“c-chan!!” 

“it's ok darling. cum.” moaning chan's name loudly, your walls pulse and contract around his digits as your legs shake uncontrollably. your stomach dips as you try to process the intensity of your orgasm. 

chan slowly pulls his fingers out to undress himself. you watch him with half-lidded eyes as he takes a condom out of his wallet.

“we're really doing this, huh?” you whisper.

“do you want to?”

“i do but, i'm scared..” chan smiles softly before leaning over you. he rests on his forearms that are either side of your head, stroking your sweaty hair away from your face.

“it's ok to be scared.”

“it is?”

“yes. this is a whole new experience for you. you're at your most vulnerable, baring all for me to see. you're allowing me to touch your most intimate parts and well, do things to you. you're experiencing new things as well as new feelings. it's normal for you to be scared.”

“will the relationship between us change?”

“i think so.” the colour drains from your face. you can't lose chan, not now, not ever!

“h-how?”

“if you say yes to being mine.” chan smirks as you whine, gently slapping his bicep

“you gave me a heart attack!!”

“wasn't my intention.” chan laughs softly before kissing the tip of your nose gently. “ready?”

“ready.”

chan nods before kneeling up. he pulls down his underwear, his cock springing free from the restraints. your eyes widen a little at the size and thickness. many questions and thoughts of “will he fit?” and “he's too big” swim around in your head as chan opens the condom, giving himself a few pumps before rolling the rubber on his length.

“are you sure?” chan looks at you, his expression and tone of voice stern.

“positive!”

“100%?” 

“chann” you whine, giggling. 

“i'm just making sure darling. i don't want you to regret this, that's all.”

“chan, i'd never regret this. i want it just as much as you. i cant think of anyone else who's more loving and caring than you to give my virginity to.”

chan's cheeks flush red at the sudden confession, his cock twitching which causes you to giggle softly.

“o-ok!” a flustered chan holds your waist with one hand, the base of his cock with another.

“this will hurt. we prepared you but even so. you will stretch, it might sting at first. please tell me to stop if it becomes too much. i will go slow and i will be gentle with you. don't be afraid to be vocal, ok?!”

“ok.” you bite your lip gently as chan nods. he rubs his tip between your folds before gently and slowly pushing into your entrance.

you hiss as an overwhelming and unpleasant feeling washes over you, knocking the air out off your lungs. the stretch burns but it's not unbearable. chan soothes you by stroking your hips gently, slowly pushing under half his penis inside.

you're tight, possibly too tight but that's to be expected from you having an orgasm and have never been penetrated before. you grip onto the sheets, forgetting to breathe until chan encourages you to take deep breaths.

you look at him. he smiles softly, taking in deep breaths and exhaling slowly to encourage you to do the same. you do as you keep eye contact with chan feeling yourself calm down and your heart rate steadily beat.

“there you go. good job.” chan strokes your waist gently as you blush. “better?”

“much. thank you.”

“does it hurt?”

“a little. it's like a burning sting but it's bearable.”

“hopefully that'll change soon. are you ok if i start moving?”

“i-i think so..”

“ok. remember to tell me to stop if it's too much.”

you nod, closing your eyes as chan slowly starts thrusting. you bite your bottom lip gently, the first few thrusts stinging as you get accustomed to his size. but once you do, a whole new feeling explodes.

the way his hips slowly move, his hands gripping onto your hips and his cock caressing your walls is almost too much for you to bear. the soft, yet deep moans that ripple from chan's throat makes you shiver and want more. the pain you was feeling quickly turns to pleasure, tingling up and down your spine before reaching the tips of your fingers and toes.

you feel electrifying. a new, alien feeling, a feeling you never thought you would ever feel is now happening. it's so much that it's scary for you, but you don't want it to stop; you want more.

you feel your mind haze over. the bed creaking and the sheets rustling all become background noise with the sounds of your sloppy pussy and chan's grunts amplifying. your eyes flutter open as you whimper softly, reaching out to chan.

he pants softly, grabbing your wrist to kiss your palm before nuzzling his cheek into it. he then intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand softly yet firmly.

“more.” you choke out. 

“are you sure?”

“yes! please chan!” you don't care how desperate you sound. you sound and feel like a whole new and different person. the pleasure you're feeling is bundling up in the pit of your stomach, forming a knot that tightens and tightens with each stroke of chan's cock.

chan nods and simply obliges to your request. he slowly picks up the tempo, starting small and slow before speeding up as he watches your body twist and turn. your pussy clenching around him, providing him with such warmth and wetness that he doesn't want to leave.

“fuck fuck fuck.” you groan. chan clenches his jaw, a thin layer of sweat forming on his body. he grips onto your hips a little too tightly as purple bruises form slowly.

“god you feel so good. so warm..”

“mhm.” is all you can muster as a response. your thighs shake and stomach dips as you clench around him tighter and tighter. chan mentally chuckles to himself, noticing how quick you're close to another orgasm.

with the pad of his finger, he rubs your overly sensitive clit. you cry out, empty moans and pants escaping past your lips. chan is also close, he has been since the very beginning. however, he figured that orgasming together would make the experience more special and memorable.

“close..” you whine, nails digging into chan's wrists.

“me too. together?” you frantically nod your head as the knot snaps. you pant heavily as your orgasm hits and washes over you with a forceful impact. it knocks the air out off your lungs and causes your ears to ring. you hear and feel chan grunt and halt his movements, emptying himself in the condom.

once calm from all the adrenaline and hormones does your body feel heavy with exhausting. chan slowly pulls out of you, apologising when you hiss. he takes the condom off, tying it and discarding it in the trash before flopping down beside you.

“how'd you feel?”

“tender, tired and thirsty.” you giggle, looking at chan. “but good.”

“that's good. i'll help you clean up and i can make us some food.”

“that sounds perfect.” you sit up slowly as chan shuffles off the bed. he reaches the bedroom door before spinning on his heels suddenly. his cheeks flush, eyes filling with happy tears as he beams from the words you suddenly say–

“i'll be yours.”

note: woooo. im back. i finally finished uni stuff so now i have so much time to write, read and play games. hehe!! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @oshimee ; @fairylouist ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[writeforfandoms]

Armor ch 3

Find my Rodolfo masterlist

Okay here we are!! Finally!! The end of this fic! It's been a fun ride, and I've loved getting a glimpse at the wider shifter 'verse. I hope you have too.

You have to go up to Canada for an op... but what you do after that is up to you and Rodolfo.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of the forced shift drug, Logan is a Menace, shifter courting behavior, look these two are way too cute.

Rodolfo Parra x f!reader

Word count: 2.9k

“You have shockingly bad timing,” Alejandro said, eyes narrowing at you.

You threw your hands up, annoyed. “It’s not my choice! Laswell’s reassigning me!” You were trying not to be annoyed. You were also failing. 

As much as you wanted to blame the lack of sleep, you knew it had more to do with the fact that you were being pulled away from Rodolfo, just as you were getting attached. 

Alejandro rubbed a hand across his jaw, eyes narrowing at you. “If she’s reassigning you, there’s nothing I can do,” he admitted finally. 

“I know.” You deflated a little, pinching the bridge of your nose to try to stave off the headache. “I know that, I just…” You hesitated, but Alejandro was patient, waiting you out. “Hoped you could break it to Rodolfo. Since I don’t think I’ll see him before I have to go.” 

Alejandro shook his head. “If you don’t see him, I’ll tell him,” he agreed. “Here.” He reached behind him to his desk, grabbing a spare piece of paper and a pen. A few moments of scribbling later, he shoved the paper at you. 

Rodolfo’s phone number. You lifted one slow, judgemental eyebrow at the alpha. 

“He’d want you to have it,” was all he said before he shooed you out of his office. 

You puffed out your cheeks but headed back to your temporary room to pack. Pain throbbed at your temples, distracting but not terrible. The lack of sleep was going to bite you, but maybe you’d be able to sleep on the way up to Canada. 

Fuck. Canada was going to be cold. You weren’t packed for cold. 

You rubbed your face with one hand, groaning softly to yourself. You’d just have to pick something up in Canada, you’d be fine. 

Fortunately it didn’t take long to throw your things back in your bag, giving the room a quick once-over to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. 

You made it to the car with a bit of time to spare, tossing your bag in the back. Then you stood for a moment, looking at the base. You’d liked this place.

Maybe if you got lucky you’d be able to come back sometime. 

Your driver for the trip to the airstrip was just approaching the car when you spotted Rodolfo. He still looked a little disheveled, fully dressed but hair still mussed. He paused for a moment when he saw you before he started walking, long strides eating up the distance between you quickly. 

He stopped close, closer to you than normal, close enough you could see he hadn’t had a chance to shave yet. 

“Here,” he offered softly, holding out a jacket to you. One of his, by the scent clinging to the fabric. 

You blinked, startled, fingers closing over his over the jacket. “Are you sure?” you asked in return, leaning closer to him. This wasn’t quite a courting gift… but it was close. It was certainly a gift with intention. 

“I’m sure.” He smiled, small but sincere, free hand lifting to cover yours. “Keep it.” 

“Thank you.” You pulled the jacket closer, just barely resisting the temptation to bring it up to your nose. This would keep you warm, in more ways than one. 

“Alejandro gave you my number?” 

“Yes.” You smiled, unable to stop yourself. 

“Good. Let me know when you’re back on the ground?” 

“I will.” You watched him for a moment before you leaned in that little bit closer, rubbing your cheek against his. You gave yourself a moment to appreciate his stunned expression before you smirked and got in the car. 

Of course, you didn’t wait until you got to Canada to text him. You texted him as soon as you were at the airstrip. 

Going to try to take a nap on the flight up. The jacket should make a good pillow. 

Okay, so that was a teeny bit mean, in a teasing way. But you couldn’t resist. Especially after the run last night.

You definitely wanted to run with him again. 

You had to turn your phone off for the flight, but you did indeed use his jacket as a pillow. The best part was the scent - it smelled like him, sunk deep into every centimeter of fabric. Clearly he’d had this for a while, or it was a favorite. 

Which just made it so much better, for you.

Of course, you were extra glad for it as soon as you got off the plane in Canada. It was fucking cold. You pulled the jacket on, making a brief face at the temperature. 

“Laswell owes me,” you mumbled to yourself. You could have still been enjoying the weather and the views in Mexico, dammit! 

Oh well. You’d just do whatever needed to be done up here and leave as fast as you possibly could. 

But Laswell hadn’t arranged just any ride for you. Oh, no. Of course not.

Fucking Logan stood at the exit, arms crossed over his chest, fingers tapping against his bicep. He met your gaze easily, raising one eyebrow at you. You had no trouble holding his gaze, partially because you were both loners and so had no need to try to assert dominance. And partially because he just didn’t care. 

“Ready?” he asked as you approached, though he eyed the jacket with an eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Got a place for us already?” 

“Yup.” He turned, leading the way outside and to the car. He drove, of course, and you didn’t object. You had napped on the flight up, fortunately, so you were awake for the drive to the hotel. 

“So, what are we doing?” You got out once he parked, taking a moment to stretch your arms up over your head, stiff after so long sitting still. Rodolfo’s jacket brushed against your cheek, and you hid your smile. 

“Spy shit,” Logan drawled, leading you up to a room. He handed you a key, an actual old-fashioned key, and nodded to the next door down. “Meet you at mine in ten.” 

Fine by you. You stepped into your room to put your things down and change into clean clothes that didn’t smell of airplane. Except the jacket. You kept the jacket on. 

On the ground, met my contact. I’ll keep you updated. Hoping I won’t be here long. You sent the text to Rodolfo quickly. The only thing better at this point would be calling him, but that just wasn’t feasible on your timetable.

But maybe later… hm. Something to consider. 

“We’re doing some tracking,” Logan told you without preamble, once he’d let you into his room and shut the door. “On four feet.”

You nodded. Well, at least your fur would help protect you from the colder temperatures. “When and where?” 

“Tonight. A house outside town. They’re running something through the house, just don’t know what yet.” 

You nodded. Simple enough. “And you need me here because…?” 

Logan looked a little disgruntled. “Because my kid is paranoid about the force shift drug.” 

You made a face. “Well, to be fair, that shit isn’t fun.”

He blinked at you once. “You got hit with it?”

“Just once,” you admitted with a little shrug. “Had no idea what was going on until too late.” 

He whistled lowly. “Guess you’ll recognize it, then.”

You shrugged. “Probably. My memories are fuzzy.” 

He nodded once and pulled out a map. An actual physical map. Because the man was a dinosaur. The two of you went over the routes you’d each take, where you’d rendezvous at the end, all of it. 

He drove the two of you into town to get food before the op. Always a good idea to eat first. 

“New jacket?” He smirked at you over his plate, clearly amused. 

“Shut up.” But you smiled a little. Just a little. You weren’t ready to talk about Rodolfo yet, not until you’d had a conversation with him. 

Logan snorted but dropped it, focusing on his food. The rest of the meal was quiet. You, at least, were focused on the upcoming op. It shouldn’t be hard.

As long as they weren’t running the shifter drug. 

By silent agreement, Logan paid and you followed him back out to the car. It was too risky to shift at the hotel, so he’d found an out of the way spot to leave the car and shift. 

You popped your door open and set the jacket carefully on your seat. The rest of your clothes you just dumped in the car, uncaring. 

Especially when the fucking cold air got at your bare skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted under your breath, damn well throwing your shoes back in the car, hopping on one foot.

Logan laughed at you. Laughed! The absolute bastard. 

You shifted, shaking out your fur with a displeased little growl. This was better, definitely. Less cold. 

A wolverine ambled around the car to you, and you hunkered down to be closer to his height. He huffed at you, amused, and turned to lead the way. 

It wasn’t too far to where the two of you would split up, and the wolverine snorted at you one last time before ambling on his way. You turned and loped off on your own, keeping close track of how far you’d gone. 

The house, when you spotted it, was dark. As expected. You still put your nose down, sniffing the area thoroughly. Traces of gunpowder around the house, but so far nothing that smelled wrong. 

Moving more cautiously, you approached the house. Whatever they’d been transporting through here, they hadn’t spilled much. Or sampled for themselves. Your upper lip curled. 

You’d have to get into the house. 

Of course there was a knob, rather than a lever-style door. Of course. You growled softly, more annoyed at the prospect of shifting back in this fucking cold than anything else. 

Logan stopped next to you, looking from you to the door and tipping his head in clear question. You bobbed your head in the closest approximation of a nod you could get. He growled, short and annoyed. But shifted back. You stepped back to give him clear access to the door, flexing your claws against the ground. 

Logan stepped out of your way, and you padded into the house. There were layers of overlapping scents, different people, alcohol, more gunpowder. You sneezed, just once. 

“Helpful,” Logan drawled from behind you.

You flicked your tail at him, not quite willing to vocalize your annoyance. Instead you focused on finding anything workable, anything actionable. 

You paused at an interior wall, upper lip curling. You could smell people here, where they’d touched the wall, and a sharper scent under it that you recognized. You growled softly at the wall. 

“Got it?” Logan crouched next to you, although he didn’t reach for the wall. “Drugs?”

You chuffed an affirmative, tail swishing back and forth. 

“Good.” Logan tipped his head, looking down at the spot. “Clever. Hiding it in the walls.” 

You growled softly again when he started to reach for it, one paw swatting at his hand, claws retracted. You didn’t want to hurt him, just get his attention. 

“Something still in there?” Logan raised one bushy eyebrow at you. At your nod, he hummed softly, considering. “Right. We’ll leave it for now. Don’t need either of us goin’ batshit.” 

You chuffed and backed off after he did. A thorough sniff of the rest of the house revealed two more hiding places, both empty when Logan checked. 

But even finding the one was a start. Logan shooed you out first and closed the door after the two of you. Standing there waiting on him, you shivered, fur standing on end. You were cold just looking at him. 

He shifted back, and the two of you separated again to make sure no traces had been left behind. Not hard work, even if you did sometimes miss opposable thumbs. 

The two of you met back up at the car, and you dove into your clothes as fast as possible while Logan laughed. Crazy Canadian bastard. No wonder his kid worried about him. 

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, once again fully clothed and warming up as he drove back to the hotel. 

He was quiet for a few moments, jaw clenching under his muttonchops. “Surveillance,” he decided. “Might need to keep you a few days.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart clenched. You wanted to go back to Rodolfo… but work came first. “Right.” 

He slanted a look at you but didn’t say a word. Thankfully. 

The two of you parted ways to go back to your rooms for the night, the rest of the hotel silent by now. It was probably too late to call Rodolfo - he needed sleep, especially since the two of you had been out quite late running just the night previous. 

But you did send him a text letting him know you were back. 

Your phone rang moments later. 

“You should be asleep,” you scolded gently, trying to fight back your smile. 

“As should you,” Rodolfo responded, amused. 

“Can’t sleep yet,” you admitted, sitting down on the bed. “I was thinking of reading for a bit.”

“Would you be much opposed to talking instead?” 

You snorted softly. “Not at all,” you murmured, leaning back. “For a bit. You need sleep.”

He snorted, clearly amused. “I see how it is,” he teased gently. “You fuss.”

You huffed. He wasn’t quite wrong, actually. “Only with certain people.” 

This silence was heavier and lasted a few moments, just long enough for you to wonder if you’d made a mistake. “An honor I do not take lightly,” Rodolfo murmured, lower with just a hint of a purr to his words. “When do you think you’ll be coming back?”

Your heart melted, just a little, at the question, and the hint of longing in his voice. You were an absolute goner. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. “Sounds like it’ll be a few days, unfortunately. Still have some things to finish up here.” 

“You’ll keep me updated?” 

“As much as I can.” You smiled, settling back and getting comfortable. “Your jacket’s been a great help, by the way.”

There was very definite pleasure when he murmured, “I’m glad. It’s yours whenever you’d like.”

You hesitated for just a moment before you steeled yourself. Might as well be bold. “I’d rather have you.”

Rodolfo sucked in a sharp breath on the other end, and you bit your lip. “Hopefully soon,” he murmured, finally, almost hoarse. “That would be my preference as well.” 

You smiled. “Yeah? You volunteering?” 

“For anything you want.” 

Your turn to suck in a sharp breath, heart hammering away in your chest. Honestly, you weren’t sure if this was easier because of the distance… or harder because you couldn’t immediately kiss him the way you wanted to. “I’d like that,” you admitted quietly. “Very much.” 

He hummed softly, acknowledgement and desire rolled into one. “When you get back.”

“Don’t tempt me or I’ll ditch Logan and catch the next flight down,” you half-joked. You wouldn’t abandon Logan on this job.

…Probably.

Rodolfo chuckled, warm and smooth. “Then we will table this for now,” he murmured. “Until you’re done with this job.”

You blew out a breath. You didn’t want to stop… but it was the right call for now. “Agreed. I’ll let you know when I’ve got an end in sight.”

“Good. Sleep well tonight.” 

“You too.” You smiled as you hung up, trying (and failing) not to feel too giddy. 

It took three days of surveillance, all told. Three days of freezing cold and ignoring Logan snickering at you as you hunkered into Rodolfo’s jacket. 

But the two of you gathered enough information to move forward with a proper op, and Logan told you to get the hell back down to Mexico. 

You didn’t tell Rodolfo, figuring you’d surprise him. It would be fun. He wouldn’t mind, and Vargas certainly wouldn’t mind. 

Naturally, you got through customs and made it as far as getting outside to call a ride when you spotted Rodolfo. 

You had about two seconds to gape at him before he grabbed you in a tight hug, holding you tightly to him. 

“How did you know?” Your arms wrapped around him in turn, even through your bewilderment.

“Logan,” came the very simple answer. 

“Is there anyone that bastard doesn’t know?” you asked, only a little grumpy. “You know what? Nevermind. I don’t care.” You pulled back a little to smile up at Rodolfo, probably looking like a besotted idiot. (Which, to be fair, was how you felt.) 

Rodolfo laughed, soft and warm and beautiful. “You have your things?” 

“I do.” 

“Alejandro gave me a couple days off.” Rodolfo smiled, a little bashful and a lot hopeful. “I was hoping to show you more of my home?” 

You absolutely melted internally at this ridiculously sweet wolf. “Anything you want.” You meant more than just about his home.

By the blinding intensity of his smile, he knew exactly what you meant.

[thotsforvillainrights]

I just gotta say I absolutely love what you did with the blog change, the new banner thingies you do for each character looks really nice!! :D

And might I request just some general smut headcanons for my man's Goto, chrono and chisaki?

(Thank you! Now if only I could stay consistent with updating the masterlist or writing in general. THEN it would be 100% the best haha! Until then, I can only dream. Ramblings aside, I feel like I've done something for Chisaki and Chrono at least once in the past before but I'm too lazy to search the masterlist. So just in case, let's do it again!)

~Muscular/Chisaki/Hari Smut Headcanons~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

-This has probably been mentioned in the past but should be brought up again...you have to have a certain type of thick skin to put up with this man. This is regarding the relationship in general. At least as far as LOV asshole status goes, you might have a better chance trying to reason with Shigaraki or Dabi. With Muscular, you absolutely cannot take things to heart. He's gruff...he's a gruff man and that's the best way to describe it with him. Now leading into the smut:

-Being hardheaded and stubborn means he has a certain way he wants to go about things. That means if you ever had any hopes of topping him then you're just shit out of luck. 99.9% of the time during sex he's calling the shots. That other small percentage was the one singular time he let you take over on your anniversary. Even THEN he still ended up leading near the end of things. He just can't help being in control most of the time/all the time. Hopefully that doesn't get to you too much because otherwise it may lead to an unwinnable argument.

-He's a little rougher with the things he does. That bein said, he's not a monster! You don't have to worry about him doing anything despicable like taking things too far when you're not for it, or hurting you during it (on purpose at least). He obviously cares enough to be in a relationship with you so no worries there. Also, he's fine implementing some form of a safeword if you feel you really need it. He's grimey but again, he's not a monster.

-Bravo for getting him to be in a relationship with you in the first place. Bravo for even getting him to notice you long enough to hold a conversation without looking at you in disgust. He's surprised by his own actions and so are you (no more so than Pops. The old man is the most shocked by everything). Anyhow, he cares for you but can tend to be selfish with things. Give him a break as he's still learning how to love and how to go about things in a relationship both sexual and nonsexual.

-Beforehand he's going to obviously request you get cleaned up. Don't try to get him with the "but Kai, we're both just going to get dirty again" speech because it's not going to work unfortunately. It's like a chore but you'll come to find that the headache is worth the reward. Once between the sheets you realize he's learned so much since the last few times. He's sickened by the thought (and embarrassed too) but he's spent some time researching just for you. He applies what he's learned and then proceeds to perfect it bit by bit. He won't let anything he does to you be taken terribly whatsoever. He wants to be able to KNOW he's done a good job pleasing you.

-His pace can tend to be a bit slower sometimes, along the line of making love rather than straight up fucking. However, his tune changes easily based on how the night is going and how badly he wants to finish. Speaking of finishing, don't ask him to finish anywhere but in you or in a condom. Splashing bodily fluids all over the place creates unnecessary mess so unfortunately (if you're into facials) you won't be getting one unless you wear into him for a long while until he breaks. Oh, and expect the cleanup to come afterwards too. A mandatory shower before aftercare cuddles is the main thing to expect. As mentioned beforehand, the headache is worth the reward.

-Talk about fun sex, this is the man to fulfill that. It's rare he can be anything but teasing both in and out of the bedroom. Dating him is like dating a best friend. He's pretty much the best partner of the 3. He's attentive and listens to your needs. Don't get me wrong, he's still a little bit of an ass but a teasing one at that. It may get to be annoying how many times he tires to get into your pants once the two of you start dating but if you let him know the jokes annoy you then he'll try to cool off on them for you. He understands not to push his limits too much when it comes to you.

-A lot of times he'll try to draw a little laughter out of you during sex. That way once you're laughing he can swiftly turn it into moans for him. It's like a challenge for this man almost. The sex blindsides you too. One minute you'll be outside in the backyard chatting and laughing on the picnic blanket and then the next thing you know you're giving him a handy in the shed. Other times you're chilling on the couch playing games or watching a movie before you find yourself on the carpet while he puts his tongue to work. Sometimes you might find yourself walking into it thinking you'll just have a quick shower together before suddenly your back is against the wall while he's plowing into you beneath the warm water flowing from the showerhead. Roll the dice on it.

-Despite this, he's really a great person to date outside of sex. If for whatever reason you were seeking a friends with benefits type of relationship, I can see him falling in love rather quickly. Maybe it happens more quickly than you think.

[iilmunchkiin]

STRAWPAGE DOODLES!! + asks

Only a week has passed and you fucking spammed the SHIT out of my strawpage holy... SHIT.

(Also yes yes thank you I'm slowly trying teach myself to take breaks and I'm,, somewhat showing progress? It's funny cuz you see me saying shit like "I'm ganna be quiet for a week" only to post again 3 days later asdjskdjjdkadals)

I love biblically accurate angels oh my GOD She is GORGEOUS

Damn it. I thought I had you for a moment.. WHAHAHA

What the fuck is that, why would you draw him like that oh my god... He looks so ugly but the bow makes him a little cute so that adds some points back.

He looks so stupid I love him sm

IS IT THE CHEWY ONES?? I LOVE THE CHEWY ONES!! ╰(*°▽°*)╯

bro really said (

I know that artstyle anywhere! Hello Clover!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Good to see you!! Cute art as always!!

My mom

OH MY GOD MIKU I LOVE MIKU SO MUCH She looks so cuteeeeeeee!! Wahhhh I love her!! q(≧▽≦q)

So fucking real, like actually

Flowey!! I friggin love Flowey so much he's just like me fr fr I saw the 3008 and my brain immediately went to the ikea, I remember it's also a roblox game and I would play that for actual hours on end, it's rlly fun <3

Is this.. me as a pencil? I see myself being one of those pink aesthetic mechanical ones more, I love pink :3

Yeah

And I love every single one of them, thank you again for the doodles!! <3 They make me laugh /ref

jahkhnbjf wefw f fw fim,,,, im,,,,, tryyingg,,,,,,,,,,,,,

OH MY GOD CAT SPOTTED!! I LOVE CATSSSSS!!! ᓚᘏᗢ ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

WAIT THAT IDEA ACTUALLY GOES SO HARD THO OMG?? ITS SO CREATIVE I LOVE IT!!!

Rat anon please don't die you make amazing art

Blob Ace kicks so much ass and you know it, but he's too much of a gentleman to do such things.

RAT ANON NOOOOOOOO-

Lazy ass /j

Ever since I've played Undertale Yellow I have never seen corn the same, I'll see corn and my brain jumps to Dalv and Starlo and I actually go feral over them. I would send selfies to my manager of me eating corn and he'll just wonder how and why tf I have so much corn WHAHAHAH

Speak of the devil, HAHAHAHAHA First of all, hah spelling error. Second of all, that would be very traumatizing for the main 4 and I almost want to try and draw that but, ehhhhhhhh.... my plate is very full. (@trgr-mmaki wtf you should know how busy I am I'm going to choke you HAHAHAHA)

Omg Sweetheart!! She's also just like me I love her lots! I love pink haired crazy bitches because I'm also one of them, she's so pretty and cute you did great!!

It's been a week is the headache gone? I hope so because if it isn't I'm going to do something about it.

YOOOOOOOOO THE MARTIE MART!! She's so detailed omg I want to splash her with water.

That's so real of you, I feel honored to have you spam me with your amazing art.

Oh shit I hit the limit for pictures I'm ganna have to make another post of this HAHAHA RAT ANON YOU SENT SO MANY DRAWINGS I NEED TO MAKE ANOTHER POST HOW DARE YOU /nm /lh

[songmingisthighs]

Cache

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ch. lxxiv - not realizing

wooyoung × reader, ??? × reader

buy me coffee ?

in a school filled with the affluent, it would only make sense for birds of a feather to flock. but what if your new status doesn't immediately buy you a way into said flock? what if instead, it bought you sure rejection? to the rich and powerful, having different masks is a must. despite some people knowing your true self and your secrets

Wooyoung fast-walked to Jongho's unoccupied practice room with San's arm gripped in his hand. "Dude, calm down!" San groaned, cringing from pain, Wooyoung's grip is too strong. Despite San's complaint, Wooyoung decided to just ignore him, focusing on getting to Jongho's practice room. He was fuming and has been fuming since the text in their group chat. San couldn't do anything but groan and scrunch his face in annoyance,

Once in Jongho's practice room, Wooyoung tossed San inside like as if he was a bag of flour, making the guy yelp and stumble inside. "Whoah, careful there," Hongjoong snickered at San who almost bumped into him and Mingi who were talking in the middle of the room. Wooyoung closed the practice room door after peeking into the hallway to make sure no one was around before locking the door behind him. "Where's Yeosang?" Wooyoung asked, walking towards the San, Mingi, and Hongjoong in the middle of the room as he looked around. Yeosang popped out from behind the grand piano, hair slightly mussed which was a sign that he had been lying down on the chair. "Present," Yeosang said while raising a hand up. Wooyoung rolled his eyes and snapped his finger, "Get your ass here, we need to talk about what San did," he demanded.

San looked at Wooyoung with a deadpan glare, annoyed at how Wooyoung phrased his sentence. "It was drunk San and I've told you, it couldn't have been that bad!" he defended himself because at this point, after knowing what he did, who else would?

Mingi raised an eyebrow at San, "You breached an NDA that almost put us all and our future in jeopardy, are you fucking kidding me? 'it couldn't have been that bad'? Get your head out of your ass," he scoffed. Hearing Mingi pointing his mistake out like that made San's left eye twitch. He wanted to retaliate but he decided to bite his tongue. This time.

Yeosang walked towards the group with his arms crossed, commenting on what Mingi just said, "To be fair, it's been almost a year and nothing has happened. No one asked us about it, no one told us that they know, nothing." "Not yet at least," Hongjoong added, muttering under his breath loud enough that everyone heard it. "You seriously can't remember who you blabbed to?" He asked San directly, smacking him on his shoulder. San groaned as he ran a hand through his blonde hair, "Like I said, no! I wanted to remember but all I know is that there were three people. I couldn't even remember why I was there in the first place." Then he looked at Yeosang, "You were there, you heard me talking, why didn't you say anything or take a look at who I was talking to?"

San's question annoyed Yeosang, it felt accusatory. Yeosang knew damn well it wasn't his fault and San was making it seem like he was also part of the issue. "Are you shitting me? For one, I'm not responsible for you, I'm not your damn babysitter. And I went to the storage room on an errand because people counted on me to prep for my section," San was clenching and unclenching his fists at Yeosang's words, hating how he felt like a child being scolded at that moment, "This is all on you," Yeosang added.

At this point, Wooyoung's head began pounding. There was an annoying pressure on his head that only intensified from hearing his friends bitch at each other. "Okay, stop it," he finally said, stopping everyone from continuing their bitching so as to not make his headache worse, "Going after each other won't make this issue better, okay?" he huffed. Everyone stopped and turned to focus on Wooyoung, waiting until he began talking again. "Facts?" Wooyoung asked, looking at everyone, waiting for someone to answer,

Hongjoong answered first, "We know San spoke to three people last year about the NDA." Then San added, "I can't remember who those people were but they haven't said a thing this whole time," and Wooyoung nodded at that in understanding. Yeosang added next, "If the Board of Education found out about this, they're gonna restart the investigation and this time, nothing's stopping them from making the investigation public." Mingi inhaled sharply as his brain processed what Yeosang said, the images his brain concocted, thinking about what it would be like if or God forbid when it happened. "And our families and we are done for. We will never be able to go to university here, there's no chance we're even gonna be able to graduate high school. Our parents' companies will take a massive loss due to the controversy and there's a chance we're gonna lose everything," he said, a look of horror on his face as he stared forward as if he was in a daze.

Seeing the look on Mingi's face, Wooyoung reached and smack him straight on his forward, making the taller male yelp in pain. "Focus! We can't think that far yet," he huffed in annoyance while Mingi pouted. Wooyoung turned to Hongjoong who seemed deep in thought, "Is there any way we can handle this silently? Look for who San talked to without literally telling anyone else that we're looking for those specific people?" Wooyoung asked. It took Hongjoong a while to answer but even then, all he could do was shrug and shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know because if we wanna know, we're gonna have to specify what it was he was talking about because we don't actually know how many people went to the storage room that night," he sighed.

San furrowed his eyebrows, thinking about what Hongjoong said, "But wait, we can ask around if people went to the storage room that night, right? We can just make a list of people and go from there, right?" he perked up at the thought of probably finding a solution. but just as quickly as he perked up, he found himself dejected when Mingi interjected, "Yeah, can you really trust a person's memory, especially from a year ago?" he asked in a matter-of-fact manner. San shrugged, still wanting to believe that he could be both the problem and the solution, "Why not?" "Do you remember what you ate last week?" Mingi deadpanned. Not being able to answer, San can only purse his lips in annoyance.

"So we're back to square one," Hongjoong groaned.

Wooyoung shook his head and raised his arms in exasperation, "Fuck it, we don't know what we can do right now so... We're just gonna have to keep silent for now."

Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Wooyoung's conclusion, "Wait, that's it?" Wooyoung turned and looked at him weirdly, equally confused, "What do you mean?" "You dragged us here to just... Rehash the things that we've basically already said in the group chat?" Yeosang scoffed. "Well, I didn't expect that we weren't able to think of a solution, okay?" "What did you expect, then?" "I don't know, something? Maybe at least a little bit of a clue? Or maybe make somewhat of a plan? Because literally, all we can do now is sit on our asses, hoping that San will somehow remember who he talked to and what it was exactly about the NDA that he talked about whilst hoping that Yeonjun and his buddies don't know that WE fucked up this time."

It probably didn't occur to them that Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai are still part of the issue until Wooyoung mentioned them. "Holy shit, you're right," Mingi panicked almost immediately. One of the worst moments of his life flashed before his eyes; standing in front of his mom as she list down all the things she has done to ensure his good grades and perfect records that were almost tarnished because of her rival's son. That was the day Mingi prayed for God to take him right then and there. "Exactly," Wooyoung pointed at every one of them, "So we need to act like nothing's going on, okay? I suggest we help San retrace his steps that night to at least pinpoint what task he was doing so we'd know what he said."

Thought it wasn't the best of plans (it was barely an adequate one, to be honest), but it was all they got. "I'll tell Seonghwa hyung, Yunho, and Jongho, ask if maybe they know anything at all. We need literally anything," Yeosang said. Hongjoong and Mingi nodded in agreement, knowing full well that no matter how much they want to come to some sort of conclusion, they were all still too emotional to think straight.

"Should we... Maybe consult our lawyers? Or at least one of ours?" San ask, biting his bottom lip. "What for?" Hongjoong asked, "Well... We're dealing with some legal shit, right? Shouldn't we be asking about hypotheticals or... Just... I don't know, okay? Maybe just to get a bit of a perspective? Maybe it'll trigger a plan from us or something?" San shrugged, not really knowing what to say anymore. Mingi nodded in understanding of San, "I'll text Yunho, he can make an excuse what with finding the NDA file again and whatnot," he said as he fished his phone out, typing out a text to send to Yunho.

Before any of them could say anything else, someone opened the door and the principal walked in.

The boys froze at the sight of the principal in front of them. They had just talked about the NDA and breaching it, of course, their minds would go straight to the worst-case scenario.

"What are you boys still doing here?" The principal asked. When none of them answered, the principal spoke again, "Did you not hear the end of lunch bell ringing? You all need to go back to your classes!" he said as he stood by the door and gestured for everyone to get out. Mingi scampered first, afraid of the man or what the man can do (call his mom and report his ass) while Hongjoong and San followed suit.

One by one, everyone left the room. The last two were Yeosang and Wooyoung. They stood by the doorway and stared at each other, "Are we gonna be okay?" Yeosang asked, worried. Wooyoung could only shake his head, "I hope so man. The odds have been in our favour this whole time, our luck was bound to run out soon, right?" he scoffed sarcastically, hating the fact that he was worried. Without waiting for Yeosang to answer, Wooyoung turned around and walk away.

Just as Yeosang was about to walk, he heard the couch at the far end of the practice room squeak its wooden legs on the floor. He snapped his head into the room to look around one last time, wanting to make sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. After two turns of looking around and not seeing anything, Yeosang simply walked away, back towards his class. Not realizing a sigh of relief was heard from inside the practice room that was supposed to be empty.

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[victorianwestpiano]

I've been having panic attacks since February 16th. And is the f**** worst.

It was confirmed that, besides my headaches, I also had panic attacks since the 16th of February.

I was in a bus with my mother to go to our summer house and, in the middle of the road, my breathing became uneaven. I was feeling my chest closing, so as my stomach. I felt I was running out of breath out of nowhere. What's more is that I felt the nerves of both my arms hurting, like they where kinda feeling numb.

I felt so scared but I didn't say anything, just showing how uncorfortable I was. My mum saw it but we didn't know what was happening to me so we waited till it went away. But it didn't.

My breathing started to get back to normal but the pain in my chest and arms where still there. I felt like my stomach was shut, I just couldn't bring myself to eat or even swallow. I didn't want to eat for several days; the times I did it was because, well, I had to not because I wanted to.

All I wanted was to cry in a corner and pleading for the pain to go away. There where days where I felt better and ate normally, but it came back every single fucking time!

I confirmed that I was having panic attacks last Friday 'cause I called emergency and a doctor and a paramedic confirmed it due to the symptoms I told them I was having.

Now I'm feeling better little by little, my famous appetite is returning, so that's a win.

But tomorrow I'll see a neurologist and tell him all that happened so I don't have more doubts.

The reason behind all this is maybe all the stress of the things are coming this year, the things I didn't accomplished yet, etc. Maybe there's more I dunno.

This year has just started and I have to be calm; uncertainty is a bitch and sometimes we have to go with the flow of things. That's something I'm telling myself to not be stressed.

Not more than usual, lol.

Thank goodness I have enough strength and focus to write again tonight, because I love to log here and for some moments forget why my brain is so crazy. And of course, some fanfic ideas.

[alexandraswords]

F*CK NORMAL

An overdue ending to a (un)well decorated drinking career.

Introduction

Friday, June 9, 2023 9:28 AM

Today is one of those days where I am just tired, and a bit bored, but mostly tired. I am exhausted. Mentally at least. I have really been putting my all into my sobriety to the point where my day revolves around meetings but im starting to lose momentum. I have a headache, the dog wont stop barking, i'm trying to pop the zits on my face. Basically being alone with my discontented ass self is not something I'm great at... yet.

I should meditate or journal or text another AA member. But I just want to sleep and be normal and relax. But fuck normal.

I thought drinking was normal. I thought my diet of vodka and water and the occasional box of cheez-its was adulting. I thought I was mature and well refined and socially acceptable because I drank, just like everyone else, because, you know, drinking is normal... right?

Wrong. Not for me. I am NOT normal. So I have to do abnormal shit to keep my addictive eating disordered alcoholic riddled ass self sober and happy. I have to keep listening to other people because me making my own decisions landed me in a crack den sharing a room with a friend I would consider a sibling, whom which a fought with constantly to the point where I dragged the mattress from our third floor apartment (if you consider that uninhabitable shit hole, an apartment) down out side below out kitchen window so if I jumped maybe the universe would send me a sign saying that it is or isn't time yet. Okay so I didn't actually do that, but I sure as shit thought about it... a lot. Like a lot. I mean i couldn't even barely walk to the bathroom let alone haul some shit down the stairs. Hell, I wouldn't even walk across the street to get my own liquor. I would bribe my roommate by telling him if he went for me and took my card he could buy something for myself. I just didn't care anymore. I hated everything. I hated that I had to be loaded to be able to walk because my shakes were so bad. I hated that I had to drink to even feel sober and functional and not hallucinate and vomit and dry heave bright green bile. And worst of all I hated that I had lost control.

My eating disorder and my alcoholism made my reality disappear. The food temporarily until my life became a cage, and the nicest word I can think of to name it would be a vomitorium because it was actually that repulsive if you could see inside the walls of it. The alcohol took control over me so I didn't have to deal with food, but also made it so I didn't worry or care about ANYTHING. 

So I guess this is how I'm going to start this ... whatever rant of words form a book. Where I'm at right now. Because right now is all I have. Yes, I am in full self pity mode, but if there's one thing I've learned from AA it's that I need to take action, and never have I ever felt worse after going to a meeting. So,lets go fucking make our bed, and meditate or some shit and get ready for today. So, yeah, Fuck Normal.

So, Why the fuck not?

I got most talkative in fifth grade. The english section of my English SAT’s, I aced. People (my boyfriend) seem to like my writing and have told me If I don’t do something with it, then they’ll publish it themselves… which I’m pretty sure falls into the lines of plagiarism but lets be honest here. I am probably one of the biggest procrastinators when it comes to doing something that is actually good for me. Why? The fuck if I know. Maybe because all I’ve known has been chaos and panic since, like,  forever, that when it comes to the real things, like happiness and joy and pride in work that I’VE DONE… well, I'm just not used to that type of thing.  But I figured, fuck it. I can write a book. All i have to do is elaborate on how awesome I am at self sabotaging and add in some very few lessons I picked up and am still learning day by day. Basically I’ve decided its time to just put all my shit in one bound piece of parchment instead of having to explain my life story to everyone as if its my first day with a new therapist. 

But alas, melodramatic Alex is bored and avoiding meditating, to keep her shit together and be healthier, obviously,  because that would actually be beneficial to my well being. So for now i’ll just throw it in one of the corners in the back of my mind while it slowly simmers into a pot of anxiety attack soup while I try and explain to you (briefly before the pot starts boiling) how fucking insanely delusionally fantastically fucked my life is, and how I got here, and why I wouldn’t change one second of it for anything. But I mean, there’s forwards and shit in books right? So can this be like a PS after the main intro forward? ‘Cause This sober bitch has to go meditate before a meeting so I can stay mindful in my sobriety and not add homicide to my list of criminal activities. (That was a joke) So for now, just for today, Namaste Sober. 

P.P.S- enjoy the buffet of garbage that hopefully is not similar to mine. But if you can and most likely will relate if you’re reading this (most likely because my clever title struck a chord in your twisted little heart) then just know, you're not alone in this shit show, but no one ever really puts the shit show on the ‘gram now do they?

[adryanscott]

Tired roar 😴

My girlfriend and I are staying at a water for today and tomorrow and I am absolutely wiped out. I wanna take a nap, but I also want to play my switch. I spent the whole day swimming, going in the lazy river, going down slides, in the wave pool, and the hot tub. Here’s a fun tip: if you’re 23 or older, don’t go on the slides more than 3 times, you’ll get the worst headache ever and you’ll get all dizzy.

There was a duck when we first arrived, I named him Mr. Quacker’s. I hope he’s doing well. I also brought along my Halloween skeleton Arthur for the road-trip, he likes spending time with me so I just had to bring him. Will send pictures of everything. Am so exhausted rn. Goodnight hope you’re doing well fren :)

❤️ ~Angsty😛

You are so lucky to go to a water park where I am it's 23°F it's fucking freezing, however I'm glad you had fun angsty must have been a blast.

I'm sure Mr Quacker is living life to the fullest I hope you give him some bread or something. Last time I went to a water park I was 11 years old when I went to visit my aunt and cousins in florida. I remember I almost drowned lol not a good time let me tell ya.

As for me I'm chilling tbh my mom cut my hair finally I feel like I can breath again it was way to long, ngl im tired as well I've been awake since 3am but it's a bit to late to take a nap if I do I'll wake up at 11pm and not sleep for the rest of the night. I'm compensating by playing Spider-Man and the new fornite chapter/ season.

Goodnight as well friend hope you have lovely dreams💙💙

[okiedokrie]

High Infidelity (TEASER)

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 882 for this teaser (estimated 8-10k final fic)

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, tipsy sex (not drunk), minghao smokes, smut warnings in actual fic

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daesukiii!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

FULL FIC HERE

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, your soon ex-husband angrily slamming the door shut, but you can't feel but be relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself. 

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? he has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making yourself more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese. 

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move. 

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throws of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

Taglist: None yet! Send an ask, reply, or reblog to be added!

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[gallant-basilisk]

Lol okay so I got this funny idea or at least... it seemed funny to me in my head... welp so anyways imagine this: Reader calls yanderes TodoBakuDeku(poly) and Erasermic(Poly) by their full names and starts to glare at them when they don’t do something reader asked them to like maybe not doing the chore the darling asked them to?

Okay, so, before anything else!

I was planning to post another request first, but it takes a bit longer to write than I had thought, so I'm gonna go in order of easiest to hardest asks. ╮(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)╭

Or at the least, I'mma try to be more active. (Can't promise anything though, since I've been having a real bad headache this past week. 🙂)

I'm also experimenting with different styles, etc, so it may be a bit.. strange, I suppose. The wording, mostly.

But let's not waste any more time on this! Mainly because I don't think you're interested, so let me just get right to writing. (･ω･ )

·

·

·

(Edit: So, turns out.. I'm not very funny...? (ಠ_ಠ)>⌐■-■)

Yandere!TodoBakuDeku X Reader

·

You stood in the doorway with a scowl as you looke– glared at the three males, lazily spread out on the large couch, watching some old videos of you, that they found a couple days prior.

"Midoriya Izuku. Todoroki Shoto. Katsuki Bakugou." Each one turned towards you as they heard their names, a puzzled expression on their faces as they each tried to figure out why you would call them by their full names.

"[Last name] [First name]." Bakugo mimicked you with a smirk on his face. "What, Bakugou?" You scoffed and the male stared at you with a bewildered expression, his eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape.

"Hah!? What the fuck's your problem now?" He shot up from his seat and stalked over to you, trying his best to intimidate you.

Which would've worked before, but you're already used to his explosive personality. So you held your ground against the man, not phased by his form towering over yours. Or what it felt like him towering over you.

"I've asked you all to do something." You hissed at the blond and turned your attention to the other two behind him, standing a bit farther from you.

"Are you serious–" You cut Bakugou off before he could retort. "Yes. I asked you– you three to do one! One simple thing and even that, you can't do!" You spat at them, your finger accusingly poking Bakugou's chest.

You huffed and pushed the blond aside, who stood in shock. Although a small smirk did make its way onto his face, which he immediately covered with his hand.

Cute.

You stomped to the other two, who were quietly waiting for their own scolding.

"Do you want me to repeat the whole thing? Todoroki." You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at Todoroki, who glared at you in return.

"What do you mean, love?"

His tone was cold, but he was clearly distressed, or at least flustered as he glanced at the greenette for help. That was an useless attempt, seeing as Midoriya didn't even try to conceal his hurt expression, pouting and fiddling with his fingers stressfully.

"I took you for a smarter man." You huffed with a sad, almost mocking tone. "Why are you so angry, love?" You snorted and your arms flew open, successfully surprising the otherwise always calm and calculated man. "What do you mean why!?"

An uncomfortable silence enveloped the room, all four of you lost in thought. Neither of you wanted to go too far. They didn't mind to, though.

"You said it was one simple thing, so why can't we just do it now?" Hesitantly, he placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to ease your anger. "There's no need to get angry about this."

"Oh, really?" You slapped his hand away and stomped in front of him, your face just about not touching his as you repeated yourself once again. "Really!" It was unclear from your tone whether you were actually angry or just mocking, though it didn't really matter to the confused males.

You stepped back, Todoroki's form hunching forward in front of you and his head hung down, no word leaving his mouth to answer. His hair fell down, hiding his hurt and confused puppy-like expression, his shiny eyes warning of the tears threatening to escape.

Midoriya, though, could easily guess– even with his head filled with your angry voice and glare– what the bicolor haired male was thinking of.

"Midoriya!" The man jumped in surprise, whipping his head up and giving you his undivided attention. "Y-yes!" You pressed your lips firmly together, forming a thin line.

Truthfully, when it came to lecturing the three of them, Midoriya was the hardest to deal with. Because he's a cunning man, who can easily manipulate and control you, without you even being aware of it. Because he was always very timid and docile when it came to you or the other two man– but especially you– and you hardly ever found a reason to scold the pouty male.

You sighed and rubbed your head, unable to think of something to say. "Please don't be angry, puppy! I'm sorry!" He squeaked and bowed deeply, a pitiful look resting on his face as he peered up timidly. His plump lips pouted and tears welled on the corners of his eyes.

"Ugh– FINE!" You raised your voice and was about to turn around and leave the trio, when a pair of scarred arms wrapped around you and lifted you up into the air, making you yelp in surprise.

"Put me down! I didn't say I'll forgive you, you assho– Eep!" You winced as you felt a painful sting in your sides, and your eyes widened as you saw Todoroki's ice coated hands resting on your waist, the frozen cold digging into your skin.

Midoriya still held you in the air, an amused chuckle leaving his throat as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, the bicolored male joining behind you, his arms fully wrapping around your stomach and his face buried in your back. "Tch!”

Bakugo clicked his tongue and ripped you away from the two, holding you in a protective hold. "Kacchan!" "Katsuki."

They really don't care what you think of them, unless it's something positive.

They called out with irritation, but it quickly dispersed as Bakugou ushered them to follow him– while dragging you with them– and the four of you returned to your big bedroom.

The bed was large enough for the four of you and since neither man wanted to separate from you for a single night, it was the only bed you used. And you'd lie if you said you didn't enjoy sleeping with them, you just didn't like not being given a choice.

It really didn't matter what you did, though.

Whether you were acting as a doting partner or a prisoner trying to escape, they just thought of you as their adorable lover.

You didn't have the choice of not forgiving them.

·

Yandere!EraserMic X Reader

·

Truly, it was a nightmare dealing with two entirely different personalities.

One was full of energy and refused to accept your scolding, only caring about the mere fact that you gave him your undivided attention. The other just outright switched the positions and refused to be questioned.

So, you weren't expecting much from the duo as you trudged your way to the kitchen, where they sat, discussing something hero-related.

"Aizawa Shota!" You slammed your hands on the table separating the three of you and huffed. The man in question arched a brow and hummed, while the blond let out an exaggerated gasp and smirked. "You're in trouble, aren't you?" He mocked and poked the raven haired man's shoulder.

"...Hizashi Yamada." You whipped your head to the male, whose smile froze onto his face in surprise.

"'Suppose I'm not the only one, huh.." Aizawa grumbled with a scratchy voice and his lips pulled into the slightest smile as he kept glancing between you and Hizashi.

"What's wrong, little songbird? Are we not giving you enough attention–?" He paused abruptly and shot up from his seat, wrapping his arms around you. "Don't worry, I'll give you all of my attention!" He grinned sheepishly.

"That's not what I wanted!" You spat angrily and struggled to push him off of you, only succeeding after Aizawa warned him. He stepped back and pouted, turning towards the other man.

"So, what's upsetting you now?" He spoke with a monotone voice, dark eyes searching your face for answers.

You crossed your arms and puffed your chest out, glaring harshly at the two men. "Favourite listener, are you perhaps... Bored? Lonely?"

"No, obviously."

You shook your head, missing the way they looked at each other and nodded their heads, as if they could communicate telepathically.

Aizawa stood up after a few more minutes of you just silently glaring at each other and leaned forward, his head so close to yours, you could already feel his breath against your skin. You got goosebumps as a hoarse chuckle of sorts left his throat, and gulped quite audibly.

Sure, you got used to living with the two males and dealing with their personalities, but you never really did get used to their other side. The ones they only showed to each other and now, to you. Namely, Aizawa's soft and perverted side, or Hizashi's chillingly cold and dominating nature.

Although, no matter how obvious your lack of determination was, you didn't exactly give in. Like you do any other time. They really loved this trait of yours, since it made it fairly easy for them to get you used to being their lover. That and your 'unexplainable' attraction to the two pro-heroes really made it incredibly easy to form a somewhat 'normal' relationship between them and you. [No, I don't mean the polyamory by 'normal'. •́ ‿ ,•̀]

"You still didn't answer my question." Aizawa stated bluntly and leaned back, giving your personal space back. Not for long.

"I see. You actually forgot the only thing I've asked of you."

You stomped your foot, making the two males jump at your sudden attitude. "Ah, so that's what's this is about.. What was it?" Aizawa sighed while looking at you with a serious expression.

"Are you ser–" "Did we not make your bed? Are you mad because we didn't bring breakfast to you in bed?" "Wha– No! Don't be stu–" "If it really was just one small thing you asked, as you had said earlier– which I'm sorry for forgetting–, why are you acting so childish?"

You inhaled deeply, internally cursing the man and narrowed your eyes. "First.. thank you, I guess..?" Aizawa pet your head– to praise you–, but you quickly brushed his hand away. "But!" "No buts." "Hah?!" "Y/N, we're pro heroes. We have much more important and more urgent things to take care of."

Hizashi chimed in suddenly, standing next to the other male.

You scoffed and a mocking laugh left your lips. "You! Pro heroes?! You have the face to say something like that and you expect me to believe it!?"

"It's the truth, why wouldn't you believe it?" The blond said before Aizawa could open his mouth. "He's right, Y/N..." He cocked his head a bit, the action coming across as– unexpectedly– cute.

After several seconds of silence, you realize that he won't say anything else, so you do.

"Well, where should I start? Oh yeah, you kidnapped me– definitely not something a hero would do. Then, let's see...." You put your hands on your hips and pretended to struggle with remembering. "Oh, oh, I know! That happened YEARS ago! And I'm STILL HERE!"

You barked at the two, visibly shocked men and paused only for a second to take a breath, before resuming your reminder.

"DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO GO OVER EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING?!! HUH!?" You panted heavily, the satisfaction from seeing their flustered faces quickly disappearing as dread washes over you.

". . . . ."

Hizashi looked at you with a disapproving look, his arms crossed, while Aizawa rubbed his temple, cursing under his breath irritatedly.

"So... Y/N." He started, not lowering his hand from his face.

You gulped and straightened yourself out instinctively. "Y–yeah?" You tripped on your own tongue, cold sweat running down your skin as you internally prepared yourself to have the whole situation flipped around you. With them being the victims, instead of you.

Guess, you chose the wrong time to act bratty. . .

ಠ∀ಠ

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Me: *tries to write*

Motivation and/or inspiration:

"So, anyways! I'm going to the store to buy milk, do you want something?"

.

.

.

Bye, like— I have 5 reqs left and I'm nowhere near done! So, I need to hurry my lazy fat ass! ʕಠ_ಠʔ

[lavendertales]

Hey! Not too sure if you are taking requests atm but if you are, would you be able to write one with Javier x reader where they work together but don’t get along at all and one day they get into a massive argument and have really rough sex on one of the office desks with lots of dirty talk, choking etc etc thank you!! Xx

OH we are going to sin city today 👀 

Lay It On Me (part 1)—Javier Peña x f!reader**

word count: 2.9k

WARNINGS: rough office sex, choking, some spanking, some dirty talk, unprotected sex, doggy style, orgasm denial, dom!Javi, oral sex (both f & m receiving)

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

A/N: I would like to formally apologize for the pure filth that is this. But not so much because aren't we all hoes for rough Javi? I actually have an idea for a longer term fic for this, so bless your heart anonie! 💕 If you guys want a part 2 (and more) let me know! Anyway, please enjoy 😏

gif: @nathan-bateman 

series masterlist | AO3 | playlist

His blood was boiling in his veins. He couldn't even bear to look at you.

That's how furious he was.

Ever since you joined the team months ago, it seemed that you were on a dutiful quest to get on Javier's nerves, down to the very last one. More often than not, you were paired with him, Steve Murphy and Colonel Horacio Carrillo for miscellaneous missions. Though you were incredibly competent and skilled on the field, you also possessed a special gift to get Javier beyond angry.

It was the way you always contradicted him and disagreed with him on almost every single thing, from the smallest details up to important job details, and truthfully, it was a miracle either one of you made it that far into your partnership without choking the shit out of each other.

Not that Javier would've been truly opposed to that possibility.

You were a massive challenge, an even bigger headache, and sometimes, the dark and primal instinct in the back of Javier's mind was certainly enjoying the power play you two had going on. That was the core issue, though. You and Javier were too much alike. Both stubborn, angry at the world and certified alphas.

But that day, already having been long and exhausting, when Javier left downtown to discuss the plan for the upcoming stakeout one last time, stakeout which he had thoroughly planned for the past couple of weeks and he found that it had been canceled without prior notice, he saw red.

And he knew exactly who the culprit was.

It was around midnight when he found you back at the office, looking through a stack of papers.

"Peña," you greeted him carelessly, eyes locked on the folders on your desk. "I thought by this hour you'd be in one of your sleazy bars. Or fucking all the common sense and self-esteem out of a poor girl who just wants to make a dime."

"That's none of your fucking business."

The sharp response gained your attention. You observed him intently, and when you were met with his flaming gaze, you realized he was beyond mad.

"What I do in my spare time is nobody's fucking business," he muttered, losing contact with reality as he dared to lock eyes with you.

"Then do a better job at hiding it."

He sucked his cheeks in, anger only rising more, building inside his chest, roaring like a hungry lion.

"Who gave you permission to cancel my stakeout?"

"I did. I gave myself permission."

"And why is that?"

"Because I spoke with Messina and Carrillo and there was no need for a stakeout. We got enough information on Quica."

"Half of which I got."

You licked your bottom lip, smirking disapprovingly at him. You had anticipated that response from him, honestly, and it came as no surprise to see him react that way.

You abandoned the papers and moved inches closer to him. "Well, I am not one of your whores who can give out important information in exchange for an orgasm. I work faster. And cleaner, at that."

"I've spent two weeks planning everything for this fucking stakeout, and you dare march in Messina's office, behind my back, to call it off?"

"Why don't you say what this is really about? You not being able to stand me."

"You're right. I can't stand you. You make my fucking blood boil."

"The feeling is mutual. I'm glad we can agree at least on one thing."

Silence. The two of you shared a look so dark, so willing for more than just words that it would've scared you if this would've been a confrontation with someone else.

"But even with that in mind," you continued, daring to approach him even more, fully knowing you were entering a risky territory, "what the fuck is your problem? If this would've been Murphy's stakeout, he wouldn't have been so sensitive. Hell, he would've even thanked me, probably."

"Oh, you want thanks? Thank you for making me waste hours, days on end planning everything for this fucking stakeout!"

You narrowed your eyes, reckoning his emotions were no longer just out of a mad place.

No. There was much more in between.

“Eres tan jodidamente molesto, lo juro,” he suddenly blurted out. “Es como si vivieras en mi cabeza por lo mucho que me molestas.”

You’re so fucking annoying, I swear. It’s like you live in my head because of how much you annoy me.

“Te das cuenta de que hablo un español perfecto, ¿no?”

You do realize that I speak perfect Spanish, right?

Obviously, he was unaware that your level of Spanish was far more advanced than he ever thought, so he hesitated, slightly taken aback.

“What the fuck is your problem, Peña?! You’ve been riding my ass the entire time that I’ve been here!”

“Believe me, you would’ve known if I were to do that.”

You couldn't help but chuckle. Involuntary, reflexive, but a real chuckle. “Oh, that is rich. That is… just… rich. You’re gonna play the fucking macho card? Really?”

“Really,” he muttered in between clenched teeth.

“Because you’re that good.”

“Because I am that fucking good.”

“Sleeping with whores is not a personality trait.”

Javier frowned, biting the inside of his cheeks again. It was too difficult to maintain a proper conversation with you. The rage, the quiet and yet deadly desire to overpower you were too consuming, too much in the back of his mind.

“Do you know when to shut up?” he asked you, in your much-too-close proximity now.

“Do you?”

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Listen to me well, Peña. I am not one of your little friends who needs a decent amount of money and then you can rail me however you want. I am someone who works very hard and has to fight three times as much as any other person here simply because I am a woman in the fucking DEA. Don’t push me.”

“Or what?”

You were at a crossroads. The natural, most obvious choice was simple: leave the office. It was midnight, with no one else there but you and him, and you did not need that aggravation. You did not need that headache.

But this was Javier fucking Peña. Your partner and nemesis at the same time, your unresolved mystery and your highest of curiosities. The man was impeccable on the field of work, but his reputation spoke volumes: he was an insatiable womanizer, a woman pleaser with no intention of ever staying. To top it all off in the worst possible way, he was, indeed, ridiculously attractive and tempting.

And you were not keen on commitment for the time being anyway.

So you've forsaken the obvious, natural choice for something with more flavor.

“How many of your pretty little ladies have you managed to successfully satisfy?”

The question threw him off guard; it was readable from his wide eyes and slight frown. But he answered nonetheless, “Each and every one of them.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So what are we gonna do about this problem, Peña, hm?”

Only one thing came to Javier’s mind, and you were certain it was the same answer you had because the next second, his mouth smashed against yours.

There was nothing sweet or tender about the kiss. It was pure neediness; of course he opted for sex. It was his medicine. His predicament for every time something went poorly or bad in his life. Being inside of someone was what he craved the most aside cigarettes or a burning shot of whiskey, and since he had neither of the prior two, he chose you.

And you let him.

You let him slide his filthy tongue inside your mouth, you let his large hands grab the hem of your shirt and desperately tug on it, ripping it carelessly. You were pushed against the desk, your legs open wider with each breath he took into the kiss, allowing him more access to your body.

He was getting impatient, as were you; his erection poked through his jeans already and upon feeling the tip of it, you shivered, helping him remove his own shirt.

“Turn the fuck around,” he said.

You did as you were told for what felt like a premiere in your partnership, and Javier’s hands bent you over the desk completely. There was a momentary lack of touch or sound which made you think about what was about to happen, but seconds later, when you felt his tongue licking harshly against your folds, you grabbed onto the desk for dear life, mouth ajar at the swift contact. His motions were fast and decisive, filling your body with an explosive sensation of indigence.

You wanted to feel even more of him, to move against him, to rub yourself on his face, but he allowed for no such thing: his hands were tightly gripped on your hips, immobilizing you on the piece of furniture as he mercilessly ate you out.

“Look at how fucking wet you are,” he said from somewhere in between your legs.

You barely registered what he said. The trance you were stuck into prevented you from doing so, and honestly, it felt so maddeningly good that you weren't even angry or upset anymore. If anything, you were glad. It had been a long time since you even thought about sexual encounters. Work had taken control over your life, and when you weren't working, you were either drinking or sleeping.

“So fucking wet,” Javier muttered again as if in awe. “Preaching about integrity when you were this wet just talking to me.”

“Shut—the f-fuck up, Peña.”

God, his mouth was one of the world’s wonders, or at least it should have been. You wanted to yell and plead for more, but you bit your tongue and did no such thing. You weren't about to beg for anything from Javier Peña or else you would never heard the end of it.

He added a finger to his torture, stretching you out, reaching for that spot inside of you which nearly made your eyes go back into the back of your head. No one ever dared be that bold with you, reaching for spots that would make you cum just by thinking about them, but there he was, doing just that.

You grunted, wanting him to pay attention to your warning, but he pressed your head onto the desk, gently, and abandoned your pussy in order to come next to your earlobe and whisper shamelessly, “You’re not gonna cum unless I want you to.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not tonight you won’t, cariño.”

You had to admit, a twisted part of you enjoyed the talk more than you would’ve ever let yourself believe. It was fucking orgasmic how high his words and his voice managed to send you, especially given the pet name he chose to address you by.

The absence of his lips on your soaked folds was replaced moments later with his cock, hard and thickened with desire, and he established a fast pace right from the start. He grunted endlessly, your warmth and tight feeling creating a cocktail of ecstasy and pleasure that he swore he'd never felt before. You bit your lower lip to the point where you tasted blood in your mouth, but you didn't give a shit. You were not about to beg Javier for anything, much less then.

“Where’s—your smart m-mouth now, agent?” he groaned.

“I—I still—have it—“

His right hand snaked up your spine all the way up to your neck, grabbing it as he thrust from behind, fast and hungrily. His other hand was on your hip, grip tight and secure, preventing you from moving whilst pulling you by the ass to meet his cock, reaching deeper and deeper inside of you. You choked on air as well just as his fingers were holding over your throat, causing your body to convulse and bend you at his will.

“Fuck—fuck—P-Peña—“

You couldn't finish your sentence. Even he barely recognized himself in that scenario, but he needed to cum badly, and his entire body burned and ached with your presence. He wouldn’t have thought he lived to see the day where he would be pounding into you, but there he was, at your desk, at your mercy—even if you didn't know it.

“That’s right—take it—take me in—take it, that’s right—look at you, so needy—fuck, you look so good—bent over like this,” he muttered. “Bent over—f-for me—“

“Y-Yes—oh, shit—“

“You take me in s-so—good, look at you—fucking shit—“

You could only moan, the impending feeling of your orgasm creeping up over you.

“You’re taking—all of me in—“

Javier watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared in and out of you as he continuously pounded into you. He decided in the heat of the moment to remove the grip he has over your hip and focus on your ass instead, giving it a few slaps, smirking when the flesh reddened.

“That’s right—now you’re a—a good fucking girl—“

You didn't even want to protest anymore; all you wanted to do was cum, but you remembered Javier’s previous words and you shivered once again. When you did so, he stopped, burying himself deeper – if possible – into you as he bent over your body to whisper in your ear, “Did you just cum?”

“No, you—asshole.”

“If you cum, I’ll start all over again.”

“Just let me cum, you annoying piece of shit!”

Javier loved it. He loved every minute of it. He loved the power play, the disobedience you had, your stubbornness, how wet and willing you were for him, all of it.

He started to thrust into you again, this time his grip focusing on your hair. He pulled you into a delicious curve closer to him, making sure at the same time that he was not hurting you too much, and finally came, cursing under his breath as he did so, stopping every now and then to feel everything, to feel you, to feel himself coming in between your tight walls, to hear every sound you make.

Javier moved slower, deeper still, resisting the urge to pepper a trail of kisses along your back. It felt awfully tempting, but he couldn't do it. This was nothing but an office hookup.

There was nothing more he could offer.

When he felt like he had total and upmost control over you and over his own emotions, he increased his pace once again, desperately seeking to feel you cum around his cock.

“Come on—“he encouraged you. “Come on, cariño—“

“F-Fuck—yes—“

“Take it, cariño—take it and—fucking cum for me—right there, yes—“

Almost on command, your insides burned at the sound of his demanding and coercive voice and you came at last, your walls tightening around him, legs shaking under his weight and mind fogged with pleasure. He loved knowing he could make you cum, whether through anger or pushing your buttons, he loves it. He loved how you felt, how your ass bounced against his cock, how well you took him in and how turned on you were by your earlier confrontation.

It was just an office hookup.

He had nothing more to offer.

He pulled out of you at last, gasping as he looked at his semi-hard cock. When you turned around, face up, your breaths were ragged, your face sweaty and your body aching. But not in the bad way. By no means.

“Seems you still got a bit of a problem there,” you said short of breath.

Javier glanced down and before he could protest or say anything, he watched in shock as you wrapped your mouth around his cock, eyes glued to his all the while. You used a hand to stroke the base and the rest you simply teased with your tongue, licking and taking it inch by inch, causing Javier to throw his head back and lose his goddamn mind over it.

He’d been sucked and jerked off before, but it was something bewitching and devilish in the way you did it. Maybe it was because he knew you hated him and he hated you, who was to say.

He fought off the urge to see you gag and reach the depths of your throat, but of course you went ahead and played the devil’s advocate, stopping just when he felt that burn in his groin and he grunted “Fuck” on a loop.

“What the fuck??” he snapped at you.

You shrugged. “I didn’t want you to cum unless I said so.”

Shocked but pleasantly surprised by how fucking well you played your cards, Javier chuckled, smirk evaporating in the blink of an eye. He refused to show anything more than what he had already showed you.

It was an office hookup.

He had nothing else to offer.

next

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[oneandonlysoftie]

Hi dear! I've seen you didn't talk much about Sadistic Beauty these days... What are your thoughts on ending and two side stories? Especially Wookying and Minho's one? Tbh I'm disappointed and disturbed :(

i had to step out of this story bc it was leaving me frustrated, irritated and disappointed not to mention very confused LOL. yep, im still fairly disappointed with where the author went with this. a major conflict that should or could have been in the main story was the whole drama including wookyung fighting with doona to get minho but it was swept under the rug only to return as some after thought as a side story (probably excluding doona).  there was such a great opportunity to finish it in the main story but the author decided that minho had to suffer all of the consequences and everyone else is going scot-free LOL. truly a shame. i wasnt surprised that doona was ending up with haesol, never was into them, still not into them. i have a certain distaste for characters like haesol, he’d be best described as a simp. and i absolutely loathe simps lol. there’s a fine line with being there for someone and being there in hopes that smth more might change, he def wants to date doona and saying that he’s okay with how things are and if they don’t date, is basically a blatant lie to himself. if that was the case, he wouldn’t let her string him along and use him for sex. the feelings he has for her will just be kept in the back, but it will most likely resurface in some way or another. in the long run, it’d hurt him and that’s just not worth the hassle. obv since the writer wanted them to happen, he’s prob gonna get what he wants lol. i def found the whole rivalry btw donna and wookyung in order to get to minho way more fascinating, and wished it was explored more. now, the only thing im happy with is gyerin is probably getting her happy ending with the new girl. she’s also the only one who went “fuck this” once she saw doona wasn’t going to reciprocate her feelings, and im rlly glad she did that. at first, i didnt think much of her, but now, seeing how the story went (lmao), im all for gyerin being happy. and as for wookyung and minho, im interested in how their story will unfold. but i feel so so bad for minho, he was a jerk and an asshole i wont deny that, but he didnt deserve all of the hate and harm he got and still is receiving according to the side story preview. wookyung is still a great and fascinating character, i do like characters like him, but how he was used was just not satisfying. and it seems like there might be a case of stockholm syndrome coming up where he might fall for wookyung. i just wish doona had smth to do with it before she parted ways or she could have helped minho, but yeah. *shrugs* this story left me confused as to what the author is doing, there is wasted potential and opportunities at every corner. the plot goes one way then goes another to end on a weird note. i also think the whole gl, bl stuff was more of a fanservice thing and that’s probably why it’s more of a disjointed story? as in, i feel like the gl and bl stuff should either have been more of a focus and woven into the story or it should have been entirely separate so the author wouldn’t have to shove many things at once and just focus on one or two pairing. one thing i might add for the story is that it felt as if it was trying to make us surprised, but the so called “twists” that happened just made it more confusing and those probably shouldn’t have been there as they don’t add much to the story narrative. back to gyerin, you can see that gyerin and the new girl can have their own separate story from the start (she didn’t have much to do with the primary conflict and could easily have a flashback to doona instead of the whole fanservice lol). the same goes for wookyung and minho as well, and it’d have been perfectly fine. at the end you basically see three pairings, the m/f, the f/f and the m/m. however, we dont even know if minho is into men? so i’m not sure how’s that gonna be considered BL? then again, every pairing could have been in the main story, but it’s not? for some reason??? it feels as if the author wanted their pairings without putting in the effort of making it into the main story, hence the side stories or they just wanted to make it separated without putting too many characters in it. obviously, for wookyung and minho, there’s no way doona wouldn’t have done smth if it was fully explored in the main story, and it might have changed the ending too. there’s multiple ways the story could have gone, but this one was the only conflict that was much more interesting imo, but it wasnt used that much.

gyerin didn’t really have much to do there other than be lesbian fanservice for doona (and the audience, writer and maybe the artist too?), and to be some kind of support for haesol. that’s about it, so i can understand why she’d not have a full blown romance in the main story, but seeing that she keeps reappearing, she still could have her side story integrated into it. lmao i don’t even kno if doona is bi/pan lol or if she just had sex bc she was drunk then did it just for pleasure without being interested in women at all.

EDIT: iirc doona did get aroused seeing gyerin uh doing stuff, so it could be possible that she is interested in women, but maybe only sexually? although i still could be wrong lol and it could just have been a moment of “I’m straight, but horny and u’ll do for now”. she could be in the closet too, who knows.

overall, sadistic beauty had some interesting conflict, some good characters (ill never like haesol lol), good art and the storytelling by this artist is well paced, but the execution and where the story went leaves a sour taste in my mouth. would i recommend this story? absolutely not. it is so frustrating, and for what? i wish i had saved myself this headache from the very start but the art and the fact that doona was a dom was what reeled me in. i only came back to it to see if the writer redeemed their story in some ways, but... well... you saw how that went.  i would follow the artist if i could, their art is beautiful. however, i cannot say the same for the writer. from my exp, it seems that many webtoons have good art, but the writing definitely leaves way more room for improvement. that said, i do hope ppl will learn that in order to make a great comic/webtoon/manga and so on, it is not only about pretty drawings. the story and writing should be up to par with the art. if not, it should be at least close to it. because the art might attract people, but if the story doesn’t resonate, if it doesn’t make much sense, then ppl are bound to leave and drop it. and what is a story, but pretty pictures and nothing substantial in it? nothing, but superficial beauty.