#let me care about this laptop because that's like one thing I can fix

[sirnica]

Words cannot explain the stress frenzy I worked myself into trying to pick a new laptop.

[bunny-jpeg]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3

[bbokicidal]

"Are you serious...?" - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

If people like this - a maknae line will be written! If not, prolly not lol.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - some of these aren't even that bad or could be misunderstandings but still.

Maknae Line | "Good Luck, Babe." Part Two!! Here!

BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities

One time, it was him forgetting a dinner date - the next, he was staying at the studio late when he was supposed to be meeting your parents for the first time. You let it slide because ultimately you understood that his job took up a lot of his time, and honestly? It wasn't easy to forget about but he had a tendency to take care of you and make up with it by quick gestures before he left the apartment or when he came home; Soft back hugs, quick cuddles before he fell asleep, or kisses in passing. Lately, however, he's been slacking. He'd begun to shrug you off any time you'd touched his arm or hand, nudging you away while he typed on his laptop. He'd tip his head away from yours while laying in bed together or he'd sit further away on the dressing room sofa.

The tipping point was when he was getting ready to go on stage and was standing in wait for the others to be ready. There was still five minutes and Chris looked a bit jittery, so you figured a quick hug or kiss would help ease his nerves. However as soon as you approach and reach to touch his arms, he steps back and keeps his eyes trained on his phone. You reach again, hesitant, and his brow furrows as he maneuvers to the side to get away. "Don't touch me."

Your lips pop apart in surprise. "...Are you serious?"

He looks over, eyes briefly wandering your face before he reaches to fix his in-ear and walks away to the door, disappearing around the corner and leaving you standing there alone. Even the soft touch of Felix's hand on your back as he passed by was warmer than anything you'd felt from Chris in the last two months.

Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself

Minho had a very, very bad habit of not telling you things. In this instance; That he was leaving for tour in two days.

A world. fucking. tour. The only reason you didn't know about it was because you hadn't been out of your home in the last few weeks unless it was for a quick coffee at the cafe or to grab lunch with a friend. Work was heavy during this time of year and as someone who worked remotely, you often spent grueling hours in your office on your computer - hunched, tired, head pounding and back sore.

So you would think that when you entered your bedroom one evening after just finishing up sorting files in your office, you'd be happy to see your boyfriend already there. And you were for a moment, until you realized he was packing three rather large suitcases full of his clothes and necessities. He looks to you, then away, wordless.

"Are.. you.. moving out, or something?" You breathe in a laugh, eyes wandering over Minho as he folds a t-shirt and tucks it into his suitcase with the others.

"No. I have to bring all of my luggage to the company building tomorrow so they can have it at the airport when we leave for Australia."

"Australia?" Your brows quirk. "When -- Why --"

"Tour." He stops his movements to stare over at you, a hint of irritation evident on his face. "We're going on tour for six months."

"Six--" You breathe out, eyes widening. "Six months. And you didn't think to tell me?"

Minho moves to drop a pair of pants in his suitcase. "I would've told you if you could handle the news, maybe. Every time I mention leaving all you do is whine and pout about how long I'll be gone."

"I get upset, yes, what girlfriend wouldn't be upset that her boyfriend is leaving for a week or two? But six months, Minho, I --"

"Don't start." He all but huffs out the words, shutting you up immediately. Minho turns away to continue folding items of clothing on the shared bed and as you watch him do so, you stand and have to wonder if you want to be there when he returns home from the tour.

Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt

He didn't seem to understand when to stop. Changbin had a tendency to be honest, sometimes to a fault, though you never seemed to complain about it because most of the time it wasn't a big deal. He called Jeongin out for saying the wrong word when singing, or blatantly threw people under the bus when a joke was taken too far.

And he was like that with you, too. He would be honest with you when you asked his opinion of something - was the shirt unflattering? Were you being too loud? Was your makeup bad today?

He'd lay it on you point blank. Yes, the shirt fit a little weird. Yes, you were being a bit loud in his ear. And yes, your eyeliner was going in two different directions. Criticism that was asked for. But when it wasn't asked for? Oh.

"What is your problem?" He bites as he follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. "We have ten minutes, just wear the damn dress and put your shoes on. We have to go."

Your huffs mix with stifled sobs as you rip open your dresser drawer and dig for other options, hands shaking and eyes teary. "You just told me the dress looks ugly, Changbin. I'm not wearing it out if you don't like it--!"

"What does it matter if i don't like it? It's your body, wear what you want!"

"You're my boyfriend!" You retaliate, frustrated. "I want to look nice for you and -- for the group, and I want you to like what I wear, obviously!"

Changbin lets his eyes roll before he turns out of the bedroom doorway and down the hall. You pause to watch him go, listening as he bites about how he doesn't have time for this and needs to leave for the group dinner. You stand in front of your dresser in shock as the door to your apartment slams shut, leaving you in silence and all on your own.

Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior

It hadn't happened before now, and you weren't sure why it happened at all. But it did.

You'd approached to gently hold onto your boyfriend's arm as he talked to an older idol - someone he looked up to and had just done a collaboration video with. You'd only come up to tell him that the food was delivered and he could have dinner before his stage, but the look he gave you when he finally turned his head was .... wild.

No words were needed. The way his eyes directed to the side you stood at before falling as if looking you over and then immediately looking away; The way the smirk on his lips only widened and his tongue pushed at his canines as he redirected his gaze elsewhere. The soft scoff that left his lips. The way his arm slipped away from your hold in clear nuance that he didn't want you touching him.

It made you feel like less. Like he was pretending he didn't know you - Like he wanted you to bug off and disappear from his line of sight.

Hyunjin had a tendency to put on a confident, bold persona when he was on stage and at first you thought maybe that was why he was acting this way. It was lingering in his body from the dance video he'd just filmed with the other idol and eventually, it would wear off.

But as he turned from you and lifted a hand to fix his hair, he talks to the other as if you're not even there at all. And you have to wonder if it's a persona for the video, or a side of him you had just experienced for the first time. Now you could only hope it wouldn't happen again.

[starz-n-stuff]

Dc x dp headcanon/prompt idea thing! If u wanna use just tag me on here with a link if it’s ao3 or wherever else

What if the GIW controls what’s accessible on the internet? Okay so imagine that for whatever reason Tim Drake has a laptop from Danny or maybe Tucks PDA:

“Hey, Tim, you called while I was in class so now you’re on speaker and everyone can hear you.” Danny tells him quickly before he can say anything.

“Alright,” Tim doesn’t seem to care if the class is able to hear, “so the laptop is fine now, but it wasn’t letting me into some things, citing an error code that shouldn’t exist so I did some digging and Danny is there only one network provider in Amity?”

“Yeah, everyone uses it, why?”

“I think they’re controlling what is visible to you all on the internet. Because there’s no result online for Superman or, or, the Justice League, none of that.”

You could hear a pin drop in the classroom, even Lancer, who had been intending to tell Danny to hang up or take the call into the hallway was staring at Danny and the phone, spinning a pencil in his hands.

“Who… who are those people? Superman and…” Danny trails off.

“Superman is an alien from the planet Krypton. Our sun gives him powers like flight, heat vision, ice breath, and a whole lot more.” Tim explains, “and The Justice League is an organization of superhero’s dedicated to protecting Earth and its inhabitants. If they knew about Phantom or Amity, or had received any sort of distress call they would’ve sent someone over with a similar power set and helped train Phantom, since he’s a newer hero.”

It’s silent in the classroom. Nobody has anything to say.

“Can you fix it?” Danny asks, voice scratchy from the burning in the back of his eyes and throat.

So yeah— I know nothing about technology n stuff so feel free to like play around with the idea. Also did anybody else’s teachers make us answer our phones on speaker if they rang in class? Or was that just my terrible high school?

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗛𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟐

Warnings: None

Hyung Line x Reader. Angst.

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ᗷᗩᑎGᑕᕼᗩᑎ

Days had passed, and the tension between you and Chan grew unbearable.

You had tried contacting him, but he’d buried himself in his work, refusing to answer your calls or texts, and every attempt to approach him in person was met with cold indifference.

It was as if he had sealed himself off from you completely, and the guilt gnawed at your insides like a festering wound.

It wasn’t until one late evening, when you found yourself standing outside the studio again, that you realized something had to give. You couldn’t let things end like this - not over a misunderstanding, not when you cared about him so much.

When you loved him so much.

Pushing open the door, you saw him sitting at the same desk, headphones on, eyes glued to his laptop screen. The music played softly in the background, but the atmosphere was anything but peaceful.

You cleared your throat, and when he didn’t react, you took a deep breath and spoke.

"Chan, please. We need to talk."

For a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you again, but then he pulled off his headphones and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were tired, and there were dark circles beneath them, evidence of sleepless nights.

"There’s nothing to talk about," he muttered, turning back to his screen.

“Please,” you said, your voice pleading. "Please."

He tensed, when he heard the hurt in your voice, and then sighed, pushing the chair back but not looking at you, his shoulders tense. He turned to you, his brown eyes tired and sad.

"I’m sorry," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Afraid if you spoke any louder it might shatter.

“I didn’t realize how much you were carrying, and my words...I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t see everything you do. Because I do, baby. I see and appreciate everything."

He flinched at your words, but remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. You sniffed and wiped the tears you had so miserably failed to keep in. You missed him. Even if only for a few days it felt like eons.

“I know you’re the leader, and I know you have the weight of so much responsibility on your shoulders,” you continued, wiping your eyes, as more tears fell. “But you don’t have to do it all alone. You don’t always have to be strong. I can be strong for you too if you just ask.”

You hiccup, trying to control your shaky voice. "I want you to ask I don't want you to hurt anymore. Please...you can ask for help too. You don't always have to take everything on yourself. I only said what I said because I wanted to convey how upset I was seeing you tire yourself out, Chan-I...I don't want you to be tired anymore."

You were furiously wiping at your face, feeling like a child not able to properly convey their emotions.

“You don’t have to carry that burden by yourself. You’re not alone in this. The members, your fans, me...we’re all here for you. Please just ask us. We'll do anything for you.”

Chan's hands fidgeted in his lap. You felt the urge to run into his arms- you selfishly wanted to have him comfort you. When he was the one who needed comfort in this moment.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry-" You weep. "I miss you, Channie...so much...I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. I'm sorry. I really am..."

For the first time in days, his eyes met yours, and the raw emotion swirling within them took your breath away.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking, muffled by the sleeve of his sweater, which his face was buried in. “I’m scared that if I stop, everything will fall apart. That if I’m not there, something will go wrong, and it’ll be my fault. And that if I ask for help and things go wrong; you'll be to blame when you've done nothing wrong.” His voice was low and sad, and you could tell by the tightness of it he was trying to hold back tears as well.

Your heart ached as you listened to his confession, realizing just how much he had been hiding behind his calm exterior. How he took on stress to make sure any possible stressors wouldn't arise for those he loved and cared for.

"Oh, baby..."

He closed his eyes, his body trembling as the weight of his fears and insecurities finally crashed down around him.

He then looked up at your eyes that mirrored his own.

It seemed like the sadness in yours took his breath away too. Seemed like it shattered all the resolve he had left as he stood up and you launched himself into your arms, pulling him so close that your bodies would have melded together if possible.

You hiccupped out more sobs as you clung to him.

For a moment- a split second he wanted to remain angry, and he resisted -but then he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled against your shirt. His tears wetting it. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I never mean to do that baby, I'm sorry.”

You held him tighter, tears slipping down your cheeks as you whispered, “It’s okay. I promise.”

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other in the dimly lit studio as the walls between you slowly crumbled. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how heavy the weight on his shoulders was, you would always be there to help him carry it.

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ᗰIᑎᕼO

The next morning, the air between you and Minho was still thick with tension. You had barely slept, and when you shuffled into the kitchen, you found him already there, making coffee in silence. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. The weight of last night’s conversation hung between you like an invisible barrier, and every second that passed without him acknowledging you made the distance feel even greater.

He slid over a cup of coffee to you without as much as looking at you, and as you held the warm drink in your hands they began to tremble.

"Minho..." you began, your voice hesitant, unsure how to approach him. “Can we talk?” Your fingers tapped against the cup nervously.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his coffee, his throat working, and eyes fixed on the countertop. For a moment, you wondered if he would ignore you altogether, but then, without turning, he spoke.

“What exactly do you want to talk about?” His voice was flat, and that cold edge you feared had settled firmly in place.

You bit your lip, nervousness and guilt warring inside you. “What I said last night...it came out wrong. I didn’t mean-”

“You think I’m cold,” he interrupted, finally turning to face you. His expression was unreadable, but the hurt in the brown eyes you loved so much was impossible to miss. “It’s fine. I get it. I’ve heard it before. Its nothing to take to heart.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “No, you don’t get it. I don’t think you’re cold. I know you’re not.” Your fingers gripped the cup to the point your hands were hot, and you set the cup down so you wouldn't drop it.

Minho bit his lip now. “Really? Because that’s not what it sounded like last night.”

You took another step toward him, your heart aching at how distant he felt, even when you were standing right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn't mean it al all.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening as he leaned back against the counter. “It’s not about what you said,” he muttered, his voice low as he looked at his coffee. “It’s about the fact that...maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s all people see when they look at me. Thats all they ever say so when you said it- the person I love most in this world...it made it feel...true.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hear the vulnerability in his voice - the fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as something he wasn’t. Because he truly wasn't.

And suddenly, you understood how deeply your careless words had cut him.

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm. This time, he didn’t pull away, but his gaze remained fixed on the floor. He set his coffee down as you searched for words to say.

“Love, look at me,” you said softly, your voice trembling. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Something sparking when he saw the shine in yours.

“You’re not cold,” you said firmly, holding his gaze. “You're - not cold at all." You swallowed the knot trying to form. "You’re kind. You’re thoughtful. You care about the people around you more than anyone realizes. And maybe you don’t always show it in the way people expect, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. I see it. All the time.” The knot was relentless and made a home there, your voice breaking slightly.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if your words were getting through. But then, slowly, his shoulders slumped, and the tension seemed to drain out of him. He allowed you to hold his hands.

“It’s just...hard sometimes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be any other way. I'm not cold I just...aren't feelings a precious thing? I don't know how to not be the way I am. It feels normal to be 'serious' and 'cold' like people say. I don't feel that way. I feel loved and loving. I just don't show it off in...big ways...” He swallowed. "Maybe that makes me mean and cold."

Your heart broke at his confession. You had always known Minho to be one who kept his emotions in check, one who always seemed to have everything under control. But now, standing in front of you, he seemed so vulnerable, so...human. Which you had always seen him as.

“You’re not mean or cold,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. You pursed your lips to keep yourself from crying, but it didn't work. “You’re human. It's okay to have different ways of showing emotions and letting people in. I'm sorry I made you feel that way.”

He looked at you, his eyes softening as the walls he’d built around himself began to crumble. “I forgive you, lovely. I was just being petty...I’m sorry I shut you out,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “I just...didn’t know how to deal with it. I don't want you to ever see me that way.”

You pouted, you bottom lip jutting out as you cried silently, your brows furrowed to try to stop yourself mid cry.

For the first time since last night, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Minho chuckled quietly. He moved his thumb to your lip and looked at you.

"It's going to get stuck that way, Darling." He kissed them and then pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he rested his chin on top of your head, rubbing circles on your back gently as you sniffled into his chest.

“It's okay my love,” he promised softly. “I’m sorry I scared you by ignoring you.” He said guessing the exact reason why you were crying. "Shh, it's okay. It's all going to be okay..." He cooed softly as he rocked you back in forth. "I love you. So much. I love you." He placed a soft kiss on your head, and you buried into him further earning a laugh.

In that moment, everything felt right again. The weight of the misunderstanding lifted, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the quiet understanding that, no matter how sharp his edges, you would always find a way to soften them.

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ᑕᕼᗩᑎGᗷIᑎ

The next morning, the apartment was eerily quiet. Changbin hadn’t come out of the bedroom since last night, and you had spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, unable to shake the guilt that weighed heavily on your chest.

You knew you had hurt him, but what made it worse was that you hadn’t even realized how deep his insecurities ran. Changbin was always so strong, so confident - but now, you saw the cracks in the armor he wore every day. And it hurt you that you had hurt him.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage before walking to the bedroom door. You knocked softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Changbin?” you called out quietly. “Can I come in?”

There was a long pause before you heard him say, “Come in.”

When you opened the door, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. He didn’t look up when you entered, and the sight of him like that broke your heart all over again.

You sat down beside him the bed dipping, close but not touching, waiting for him to speak first since it seemed all the words left your mind.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry for last night,” he said quietly, his voice filled with exhaustion. “I overreacted.” His voice was sad and quiet and you felt the power of the initial guilt amplify tenfold.

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill making it hard to speak. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do, Binnie, please believe me.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, still not looking at you. “It’s not your fault. I just...I’ve always felt like I have to prove myself, and becoming an idol made that even harder, you know? Like I have to be the best since everyone is watching now. And when you said that...it just hit me in the worst way. Because it's you.”

You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “You’ve always been hard on yourself.”

Changbin let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, maybe too hard. But I don’t know how to be any other way. I feel like if I stop, if I’m not constantly pushing myself, then...I’ll lose everything. I tried so hard to get.” His eyes met yours.

Your chest tightened at his words. You knew how much he put into his work, how much he cared about being successful, not just for himself, but for everyone around him. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing the fear and vulnerability in his voice - it was almost too much to bear.

“You won’t lose anything, let alone me.” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. You had noticed the look in his eyes and wanted him to be assured that you would never leave him. “You’re already so much more than enough, baby. You’re talented, hardworking, and you care so much about everyone around you. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Especially not me. Or the guys. Or your family. We all see how much you put in everything.”

He finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “Sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. And when you said what you did...it felt like you were confirming it. And you're the...last person I would want to hear the from.” His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he put his forearm to his eyes. "Damn, I didn't want to cry." He mumbled. "Give me a second."

You squeezed his hand and waited for him to collect himself. Once he did you spoke, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. I never wanted to hurt you. You mean so much to me, and I think you’re incredible just the way you are. More than I deserve, BinBin. Truly.”

Changbin’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. “I know you didn’t mean it. I was just...in my head. It’s something I’ve been struggling with for a while.”

He let out a long breath, the weight of his insecurities finally surfacing. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially you.”

Your heart ached at his words, and you gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You could never disappoint me, Changbin. I love you for who you are, not for how hard you work or how much you achieve. You’re enough, just as you are.” You look into his eyes. "You may not be perfect, but everything about you is perfect to me."

His eyes shined, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to break. But instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. You held him close, feeling his body relax against yours as the tension finally melted away.

“I’m sorry I shut you out,” he whispered against your neck. “I just didn’t know how to handle it.” His lips brushed against it softly and you felt a warmth wash over you.

You pressed a kiss to his temple just as gently, your heart swelling with love for him. “It’s okay. I'm sorry as well.”

Changbin pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I'm going to talk to you more about this stuff. I don’t want to keep shutting you out.” He kissed you again, but this time on your lips, and you felt a wetness.

You smiled softly, brushing away stray tears from his cheeks and lips. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And I mean always baby.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss, as if sealing the promise between you. Then moving into a slow and lazy kisses as he pulled you down onto the bed with him.

You stayed there, cuddled together and kissing until the early afternoon, everything just as perfect as the man beside you.

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ᕼYᑌᑎᒍIᑎ

The hours dragged on painfully after Hyunjin had left you standing in the kitchen. The apartment felt too big, too empty without him, and your mind kept replaying the argument over and over again, picking apart every word you had said, every hurtful implication that had slipped out.

You hadn’t meant to wound him. Whenever you had wounded him, you never did it intentionally. You loved him too much to do that.

You had only wanted to comfort him; to let him know he didn’t have to bear the weight of perfection like he thought he had to. You didn't want him to continue working himself to the bone; making himself tired trying to fit a mold that others wanted to fit him into. But instead, you had used your words to unintentionally cut deeper into the very insecurities he worked so hard to keep hidden.

It was nearing midnight when you finally heard the soft sound of the bedroom door opening. Hyunjin stepped out, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed from crying. He looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that broke your heart all over again.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, his voice so small it made your chest tighten with guilt.

You nodded quickly, standing up from the couch. “Of course. Of course.”

He walked over to you, sitting down on the couch beside you, though there was still a noticeable space between you. Hyunjin seemed hesitant, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his oversized sweater. He then laid his head into your lap. You hesitantly threaded your fingers through his hair, until he leaned into your touch, letting you do it freely. The silence was thick, heavy with unspoken words and raw emotions.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he began, his voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I was...I was scared.”

You blinked, surprised by his confession, your hand pausing. “Scared? Of what?”

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his eyes half lidded as he spoke. “Scared that you see me the same way I see myself. Flawed. Not good enough. I’ve always had this fear...this feeling like I’ll never be able to live up to the version of me that people expect. And when you said what you did, I thought...I thought it was proof that even you felt that way. And I don't want you to feel like that about me. At all.” He whined quietly.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you listened to him. You had known Hyunjin struggled with self-doubt- struggled with the fact that people only saw him as a pretty face- a perfect face, but hearing him lay it all out like this, so raw and vulnerable, made your heart ache for him.

“I would never think that,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand with your free one. “You’re everything to me, Hyunjin. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, or your weren't fitting the mold others want you to fit. I only said what I did because I hate seeing you push yourself so hard. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to see yourself as flawed. We all are- but how is that any different. I love you. I don't want you to be perfect- I want you to be you.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with so much pain that it made your breath catch in your throat. “But what if I’m not good enough as me?”

Your heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice, and you squeezed his hand tighter, shaking your head, swallowing. “You are more than good enough, Hyunjin. You are so talented, so kind, and you work harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You don’t have to be perfect. Again, I love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”

Hyunjin’s lower lip trembled, and for a moment, it looked like he might start crying again. But instead, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His grip was tight, almost desperate, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

You held him just as tightly, your own tears falling freely now. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You don't have to apologize Jinnie...”

For a long time, the two of you sat there in each other’s arms, the weight of the argument finally starting to lift. Hyunjin’s breathing eventually steadied, and you could feel the tension slowly draining from his body as he relaxed into your embrace.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still red, but there was a softness in them now, a peace that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I’ll try to be better,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try not to let my insecurities get the best of me.”

You smiled at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I'll try to be better with my words as well. We’ll work through our issues together. You don’t have to do this alone.” You touched his cheek and smiled.

Hyunjin nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He kissed you gently. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much sincerity that it made your heart swell.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your hands gently cupping his face. “More than anything.”

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[rootedinrevisions]

Attention (Kinktober 2024: Day 2)

SUMMARY: Amidst the chaos of storm fronts and unpredictable skies, your playful bratty antics spark a fiery dynamic between you and Tyler, who knows just how to tame your spirited nature. But as passion ignites and boundaries blur, a day of teasing leads to an unforgettable night at a hotel, where he reveals a different side of the southern gentleman you’ve come to adore.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was meant to be a short drabble like yesterday's Kinktober Post (my goal is for them to be at or under 1k words). But as I was writing this one it kind of just took off and I kept going and now here we are at almost 6k words! There's also just something about Tyler and the way he would smirk whenever Kate gave him any kind of sass in the movie that screamed brat tamer to me. So I hope you all enjoy this!

PROMPT: "I'm really not in the mood for you to tease me today."

KINK: Brat / Brat Tamer

WARNINGS: Teasing. 18+ SMUT. (Spanking. Unprotected Sex. P in V Sex.) Aftercare (because we love a man who takes care of his partner after.)

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The day had been a whirlwind, literally and figuratively. Storm after storm popped up on the radar, each one stealing Tyler’s attention. Tyler sat behind the wheel of his truck, his eyes fixed on the screen displaying swirling wind patterns and the ominous hook echo of a forming tornado. His fingers tapped against the keyboard of his laptop, occasionally flicking to the handheld radio on the dash as he communicated with the rest of the team who were following behind.

You, on the other hand, were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, idly watching him as he clicked through the radar images.

It wasn’t unusual for him to get this absorbed in his work. In fact, it was one of the things you admired most about him—his drive, his passion for what he did. 

But today, you were feeling a little left out. Maybe it was that normally you had his attention while you were driving to a storm. Normally he’d hold your hand or have his hand on your thigh as he drove. Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t looked at you in over an hour, but a small part of you craved his attention.

Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and let out a quiet huff, eyes narrowing as you stared at him.

Nothing. He didn’t even blink, fully engrossed in tracking the storm. You knew better than to expect him to drop everything just because you wanted some attention, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun.

“Think we’re almost done chasing storms for the day?” you asked, knowing full well what his answer would be but fishing for a little attention nonetheless.

Tyler barely looked up from the screen. “We’ve got three more cells popping up, so it’s looking like it’s gonna be a long night,” he said, his voice steady.

You frowned, crossing your arms and huffing just loud enough for him to hear. “Bet you’d marry the tornadoes if you could.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen.

Bingo. A reaction, even if it was small.

You smirked and leaned in a bit closer, tapping your fingers against the console between you and him. “I can see why you like them. They’re unpredictable, dramatic, always showing off when they  don’t need to...”

He didn’t respond, just turned back to the radar, a smirk still playing on his lips. The lack of attention stung a little, but mostly, it ignited the brat in you. 

Ignoring you was one of his favorite tactics when you were leaning into your brat personality, but it was your least favorite. You could feel the frustration bubbling up inside you, but it only fueled your determination to push him a little further.

“They’ve got everything you love, don’t they?” You quirked a brow, turning in your seat to face him more fully. “Reckless, impossible to control, full of attitude, and always causing trouble…”

Tyler’s lips twitched as if he was fighting off a smile, but he remained focused on the road. "You describing the tornadoes or something else?" he muttered, his tone teasing.

You shift in your seat, uncrossing and recrossing your legs with a huff, making sure he heard you. You make sure as you do this that your tight denim shorts ride up just a little bit showing more of your thighs. You then reach up and adjust the white tank top you’re wearing, adjusting your bra ever slightly to push your boobs up ever so slightly.

Tyler finally shifted his gaze from the storm to you, his eyes narrowing in that way that let you know he knew exactly what you were doing.

His voice was low, almost daring you to push further as he said. "Tornadoes are unpredictable, sure. But if you know how to handle them, if you can figure out what makes them tick...”

He let the words trail off, and you felt the tension rise again, this time not because of the storm outside. You gave him a slow smile, but your pulse quickened.

“Do you know to handle them?” You teased, though your voice wavered just enough to betray the heat simmering between you.

Tyler’s gaze locked onto yours, and the air between you shifted, heavy with unspoken understanding. “Darlin', I’m really not in the mood for you to tease me today.”

The directness of his words caught you off guard, and you blinked in surprise. His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was a weight to it that told you he wasn’t messing around. He glanced back at the radar, clearly still tense from the day’s events, and you could see the stress etched in the lines of his face.

But instead of backing down, your frustration only deepened. You leaned forward in your seat, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. “Yeah? Well, I’m really not in the mood for being ignored,” you shot back, your voice laced with that bratty edge you knew would get a reaction.

Tyler let out a slow breath, his hands pausing over the keyboard for a moment before he turned his head to look at you fully. His eyes narrowed slightly, and that stern look—the one that sent a shiver of both excitement and challenge through you—was back. “There are a lot of storms happening right now. You really wanna compete with a tornado for my attention?”

You held his gaze, unyielding. “Maybe,” you said, shrugging with feigned indifference. “I think I could give them a run for their money.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The tension hung in the air, heavy and charged like the storm outside. Tyler leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, but he didn’t rise to your bait just yet.

Instead, he shifted his focus back to the radar, the smirk on his face barely noticeable but definitely there. He was doing it again—ignoring you on purpose. And it was driving you mad.

You let out another exaggerated sigh, leaning closer to him, but he kept his eyes between the radar screens and the roads in front of him.

“Oh, come on,” you said, your voice playful but with a hint of challenge. “What’s more important? A tornado or me?”

Tyler didn’t even flinch. “Right now? The tornado.”

That was it. That smug, calm tone of his always got under your skin in the most thrilling way. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as you considered your next move. You could stop here, but where was the fun in that? No, you were going to push him just a little further.

You waited for your next move until the next stop where Tyler pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of a small mom and pop type gas station. The rest of the team hurried inside to use the bathroom and grab some drinks and snacks. 

Meanwhile you and Tyler lingered in the truck for a few minutes. You leaned over the center console, your voice low and teasing as you whispered, “Maybe I should just find something else to entertain myself if you’re so busy.”

Finally, Tyler turned his head to look at you, his eyes darkening with a mixture of warning and amusement. He gave you a long, steady look, the kind that always made your pulse race, before speaking in that slow, Southern drawl of his. “I’d think real carefully about that, sweetheart.”

You smirked, unfazed by his warning. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Tyler’s lips twitched into a faint smile, but the sharpness in his gaze remained. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping so low that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Because if you keep pushing, you’re not gonna like what happens next.”

You could tell by the way his eyes lingered on you that he was reaching his breaking point, and it only made you want to push further.

You straightened up, flashing him a defiant grin. “What, you think you can handle me?” The challenge was unmistakable in your voice, and you watched his reaction closely, waiting to see if you’d finally get what you wanted.

Tyler’s eyes darkened, and in one smooth, deliberate motion, he leaned in close—so close that you could feel the warmth of his body, the faint smell of his cologne mixing with the rain-soaked air. His lips barely brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Darlin’, I tame tornadoes. You don’t think I can tame you?”

The way his voice rumbled against your skin sent a jolt of excitement through you, but you swallowed down the reaction, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you tilted your chin up defiantly, pretending his words hadn’t rattled you, even though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Is that so?” you shot back, your voice breathy, daring him to make good on his promise.

Tyler pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with that same stern intensity. He didn’t speak for a moment, just let the weight of his gaze hang between you, thick with unspoken meaning. Then, in a voice that was all command, he said, “You better start acting like the good girl I know you are. Or you won’t be getting any of my attention for the rest of the night.”

His words hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. You knew that look. He was serious now. The playful banter had shifted into something more intense, and you could feel the shift in the air between you. It was a warning—one you knew better than to ignore.

But still, the brat in you wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “Guess we’ll see if you can keep that promise,” you quipped, your voice full of playful defiance as you met his gaze head-on.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, you’ll see, alright,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He gave you one last lingering look before reaching for the door handle and exiting the truck

As you watched him make his way into the gas station, looking hotter than should be legal in just a backwards baseball cap, a button down shirt, some Wrangler jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots, you knew you had crossed a line. The line. He was in full brat tamer mode now, you had his full attention now, and that meant you were in trouble.

* * * * *

The storm had finally passed, leaving behind soaked streets and the distant rumble of thunder as Tyler pulled into the motel parking lot around nine o’clock later that night. The quiet hum of the engine faded, replaced by the sound of rainwater trickling off the roof.

You glanced over at Tyler, but his face was unreadable, all traces of the playful banter from earlier wiped clean. He parked the vehicle, his jaw clenched as he cut the engine.

You were still trying to gauge his mood when Tyler opened his door and stepped out into the cool night air, rain droplets catching the faint glow of the streetlights. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed the keys and walked around the front of the truck. 

He opened your door and waited for you to get out. He reached into the backseat and grabbed both of your bags, throwing them over his shoulder. Then without saying a word he motioned for you to follow. A thrill of anticipation coursed through you.

When you reached the room, Tyler unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing for you to enter first. The door clicked shut behind you, and the sudden quiet of the room felt stifling. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your chest as you stood there, unsure of what was about to happen next.

Tyler took his time, tossing the keys onto the table by the door before slowly turning to face you. His expression was calm, but his eyes—those sharp, stormy eyes—told a different story. He was still every bit in control, but there was a spark of something dangerous beneath the surface. And you were the one who had lit the fuse.

“You’ve been testing me all day,” he said, his voice low, steady. He took a slow step toward you, closing the space between you in a way that made your breath catch. “And now, you’ve got all of my attention.”

You met his gaze, swallowing the nervous flutter in your stomach. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? His full, undivided attention. But standing here now, under the weight of his stare, you realized just how serious he was.

“I told you,” he continued, his voice dropping lower as he came even closer, “if you kept pushing, you weren’t gonna like the outcome.”

You smirked, still holding on to that last shred of defiance. “Maybe I’m still not convinced.”

Tyler’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curling into a knowing smile. He was right in front of you now, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, the scent of rain and earth still clinging to his clothes.

“Well,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine, “you’re about to be.”

Before you could respond, Tyler closed the distance, his hand sliding around the back of your neck as he pulled you in. His hand then moved to your hair where he tightened his grip and pulled your head back slightly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. His kiss was hard, commanding, and you could feel the pent-up frustration from earlier in the way his lips moved against yours. 

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, heart racing as his fingers lingered in your hair. His gaze locked onto yours, and there was no mistaking the seriousness in his voice when he spoke next.

“You’ve got two choices now, darlin’,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “You can behave and I’ll give you the attention you’ve been beggin’ for all day, or…” His thumb brushed along your jaw, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can keep being a brat, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

A thrill shot through you at his words, the heat between you palpable as you weighed your options. But the brat in you wasn’t ready to give in so easily. You bit your lip, eyes gleaming with challenge as you tilted your head slightly, daring him.

“What if I like regretting it?” you quipped, your voice laced with that same teasing defiance that had gotten you into this situation in the first place.

Tyler’s eyes darkened, and for a brief moment, you could see the flicker of amusement there, quickly replaced by something far more dangerous. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice thick with Southern charm, “you really don’t know what you’re askin’ for, do you?”

And with that, he took a step back, his hand dropping from your neck as he moved over to the bed, sitting down at the edge. He leaned back casually, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked at you with a calm, almost predatory gaze.

“Come here,” he commanded, his voice soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for a moment, that last flicker of defiance warring with the butterflies in your stomach. But you knew the game was over. Tyler had won, and now it was time to face the consequences.

Slowly, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached him. When you reached the edge of the bed, Tyler reached out, grabbing your waist. His hands moved to the button of your jean shorts, popping it open before he hooked his fingers into the top of your shorts and pushed them down your legs.

He then reached for your wrist, pulling you down across his lap. His grip was firm, but there was no mistaking the tenderness beneath it.

“Now,” he murmured, “we’re gonna start with getting rid of that little attitude of yours.” His voice was low, filled with that unmistakable authority that always made your stomach flip. You felt one of his hands move to your back, holding you down against his thighs, and you knew exactly what was coming next.

"You’ve been a handful today, haven’t you?” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

“I wouldn’t have to be a handful if you’d given me a little attention today,” you shot back, though your voice was quieter now, that bravado fading.

Tyler chuckled, low and deep, the sound vibrating through you as his hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Oh, you’ve got my attention now, darlin’,” he said softly. “So how many do you think you should get for running that pretty mouth of yours?”

“Two.”

He chuckled again. “Two? You really think two is enough for all the attitude you gave me today, baby?”

Suddenly, without warning, you feel the sharp, sudden sting of Tyler’s hand coming down on your ass. The impact sends a jolt through you, heat rushing to your skin, but before you can process the sensation, another smack follows on the other side.

After several smacks, you stopped keeping track after seven or eight, his hand lingers on your flushed skin, his fingers brushing lightly over the spots where his hand had made contact. The tenderness makes you shiver, and you let out a small whimper.

He hadn’t been rough—Tyler never was—but he made sure his point was clear. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his firm control slowly giving way to a softer touch as he released you from his lap.

Without saying a word, he gently pulled you to straddle him, his hands guiding you to settle on his thighs. The change in position felt intimate, almost grounding, as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath you, and the weight of the moment shifted from tension to something deeper, something more comforting.

Tyler’s hands moved in soothing patterns up and down your spine, his touch slow and deliberate. His fingers grazed the small of your back, the motion calming, as if he was silently asking you if you were okay. You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering trace of the storm outside.

“You alright, darlin’?” His voice was softer now, barely a whisper, laced with concern and affection.

You nodded, your breath still catching in your throat, but not from discomfort. It was the intensity of it all—the push and pull between you, the way he could shift from firm to gentle in an instant—that had you feeling unsteady, yet safe. Tyler had a way of doing that, of reminding you that even in your brattiest moments, you were always safe with him.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers so your eyes met his. There was no trace of the stern look he'd given you earlier, no hint of the control he’d exerted when he made you bend to his will. Instead, his gaze was warm, full of care.

“You pushed me today,” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your jawline, “but I’m not going anywhere. I just need to make sure you’re good before we go any further.”

Your breath hitched at the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t just a question of your physical comfort—Tyler was checking in with your heart, your mind, making sure you were completely with him in this moment. It was one of the things you loved about him most, the way he balanced his strength with such tenderness.

You offered him a small smile, your hands sliding up his chest to rest against his shoulders. “I’m good,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady.

He nodded, satisfied, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you closer once more, his lips brushing against the side of your neck in a kiss so gentle it made your skin tingle. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, the words a quiet reassurance. His hands continued their slow, calming path along your back, grounding you in the safety of his embrace. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, making you feel secure.

Tyler stayed like that for a long moment, just holding you, letting the tension melt away in the quiet. His thumb traced idle circles on your lower back, a quiet reminder that no matter how far you pushed, no matter how much fire you brought, he would always be there to catch you.

It was the kind of attention you had been craving all day. Sex with Tyler was great. You loved being with him in that way. He was by far the best partner you’d ever had. But it was this kind of affection, full of love and care, that you had missed while the storms had his attention.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was a soft rumble, still laced with that familiar, protective edge. “You ready for more?” His question was a gentle nudge, letting you know that he was still in control but giving you space to choose.

You nodded again, feeling the heat rising between you once more, but this time it came with the unspoken promise of safety and care in every touch.

Tyler’s hands guided you to the bed, his grip both firm and gentle as he positioned you exactly how he wanted. The air between you felt thick with tension, charged with the anticipation of what was coming next. You could hear your own pulse in your ears as you lay on your back, Tyler standing over you with that same intense gaze that sent shivers through you.

Your heart raced as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over you with one knee pressed into the mattress and the other still on the floor, effectively trapping you beneath him. Tyler’s fingers traced along the curve of your thigh, sending electricity through your skin as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

“You wanted my attention, darlin’. Now you’ve got it.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, sending a thrill down your spine as his hand slid higher, teasing the hem of your shirt.

You couldn’t resist. Despite the tension, despite the way he commanded every ounce of your focus, that last bit of brattiness bubbled up again.

“About time,” you muttered, eyes flicking up to meet his with just enough sass to provoke him further.

Tyler’s eyes darkened, his lips curling into a smirk as he pulled back, shaking his head slightly. “Still got that mouth on you, huh?”

Before you could respond, he leaned down again, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all-consuming. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The world outside, the storms, the teasing—all of it faded as Tyler poured every bit of the attention you'd been begging for into that kiss.

When he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing was heavy, matching your own.

"You’ve been testing me all day," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "Now, sweetheart, you're gonna learn that I don’t mind giving you what you ask for—but it comes with consequences."

With that, Tyler’s hands slid up your body, his touch sending waves of heat through you. His fingers paused at the bottom of your tank top, his eyes meeting yours, waiting for the confirmation he needed.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. You could feel the tension mounting, your body responding to the way his hands moved with both authority and tenderness. He was right—you’d pushed him, teased him, and now you were at the mercy of the man who was more than capable of taming the most dangerous storms. Taming you, however, was something entirely different.

Tyler took his time, every touch deliberate as he undressed you, leaving no inch of your skin untouched by his hands. The slow build of anticipation was almost unbearable, and by the time his lips found yours again, you were desperate for the contact.

“You’re gonna be good for me now, aren’t you?” Tyler murmured against your lips, his hand cupping your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “No more sass, no more pushing.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as you nodded again, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. “I’ll be good,” you whispered, breathless.

Tyler’s smirk softened into something more tender, though his grip on you remained just as firm, his touch as commanding as ever. "That’s what I like to hear," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Good girls get rewarded."

Without saying a word, he stood up, his movements deliberate but unhurried, giving you time to take in the shift in the air. You followed him with your eyes, feeling your pulse quicken as he reached for the hem of his flannel shirt, fingers slipping under the fabric.

With one smooth motion, he pulled the flannel off over his head and tossed it onto a nearby chair. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he moved, and your gaze lingered on the defined lines of his chest, the way his skin gleamed in the soft light filtering through the hotel curtains. Every inch of him seemed to radiate confidence, strength—qualities you’d been drawn to from the moment you met him.

Your mouth went dry as his hands moved to his belt, unfastening the buckle with an almost lazy precision. The soft click of metal filled the room, each sound amplifying the rising anticipation in your chest. He tugged the belt free and let it drop to the floor with a soft thud, his gaze never leaving yours, as if he was fully aware of the effect his every movement had on you.

Then came his jeans—he unbuttoned them, the zipper coming down slowly, teasingly. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the slow reveal making your skin tingle with anticipation. Tyler’s fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, and he slid them down his hips, letting them pool at his feet before stepping out of them.

Your heart was pounding now, each layer of clothing he removed making the room feel smaller, more charged. He stood before you in nothing but his boxer briefs, and even then, he didn’t rush. Tyler’s eyes were dark, locked on yours, and the energy between you both felt electric.

You swallowed hard as his thumbs slipped beneath the band of his underwear, slowly peeling them off. The fabric slipped down his legs, revealing the rest of him, his body sculpted and strong. Your gaze trailed over every inch of him, heat pooling low in your stomach, the tension between you like a wire pulled tight.

Tyler straightened, his eyes still fixed on yours, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze settle over you like a weight. He was giving you a moment to drink him in, to take in every part of him, just as he’d done with you before. And the way he stood there—confident, steady—made your pulse race even faster.

He took a step toward you, the air between you thick with the anticipation of what was coming next, but he didn’t rush. Tyler was never in a hurry when it came to you.

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breathing, as he made his way on to the bed again. One hand slid behind your back as he unclasped your bra. He slowly removed it from you before you felt his warm lips wrap around one of your nipples, while his calloused fingers pinched the other.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a soft moan leaving your lips. The hand that had been pinching your nipple then slid down your stomach to between your thighs. You felt him run his fingers along the lace covering your center.

You tried to roll your hips down against his fingers, desperate for more of his touch. Tyler’s lips curved into a smirk as he pulled away from a kiss to look down at you.

“Need something, baby?”

You tried to grind down against his hand again, but this time he pulled away, leaving you with nothing but the musty air of the motel.

“Tyler!” You almost whined at the loss of his touch.

“What is it baby? What do you need?”

“You!”

Tyler chuckled and leaned down, his lips moving to your neck as he started gently biting at the spot below your left ear that he knew drove you insane.

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Want you between my legs.”

Tyler’s lips curved into a grin as he moved his leg higher up on the bed, spreading your legs. He pressed one of his knees right up against your center, pressing the lace of your underwear that you still had on against your clit.

This wasn’t what you meant and he knew it. But you ground down against his leg a few times, trying to get some kind–any kind of friction that you could.

“Ty, please,” you breathed out when you realized it wasn’t helping. “Need you.”

“Was that so hard to say, baby?”

“Yes.”

Tyler chuckled again before he positioned himself between your thighs. He wrapped his hand around his dick pumping it a few times before he put the tip against your entrance. He slowly slid into you.

The feeling was overwhelming for a moment. This. This was what you had been waiting all day for. You lead out a loud moan as your eyes fluttered close as he slowly stretched your walls as he pushed further and further into you.

Once he was all the way in, he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to him. Then he started to move. His hips pulling out slightly before pushing back in. Your hands moved to his arms and then his back, your fingers digging into his skin.

Tyler began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, your hips started to move, meeting each of his thrusts. The musty motel room was filled with the sound of your soft moans and his deep grunts as both of you became lost in the moment. 

“Come on, baby. Let it go for me.” Tyler breathed out as he started thrusting faster and deeper into you.

You moaned his name as your back arched off of the sheets as your orgasm hit. Your walls clenched around him and you felt Tyler groan as something that sounded like a string of swear words left his mouth. He then stilled inside you a moment later as you felt him fill you with his release.

The room was enveloped in a warm silence, the air heavy with the aftermath of your passion. You lay side by side on the bed, hearts still racing as you both came down from the heights of your releases. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, intertwined and blissfully spent.

Tyler shifted slightly, a soft rustle of sheets breaking the quiet as he reached for a damp cloth. With careful, gentle hands, he began to clean you up, his touch tender and attentive. You could feel the warmth of his body beside you, a soothing presence that eased any remnants of tension. There was something profoundly intimate about the way he cared for you, each stroke of the cloth both practical and affectionate, reminding you of the connection you shared beyond just the physical.

Once satisfied, he set the cloth aside and padded quietly to the small fridge across the room, his movements fluid and relaxed. You watched him, a small smile tugging at your lips as he rummaged through its contents. He emerged moments later with a bottle of water, the coolness of it contrasting against the warmth radiating from your skin.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and comforting as he handed you the bottle. “You should stay hydrated, especially after all that.” There was a playful glint in his eyes, a mixture of mischief and affection, as he leaned back against the headboard, propping himself up on one elbow.

You took a sip, the refreshing liquid quenching your thirst, and the sight of him—bare, relaxed, and utterly himself—made your heart swell. Once you set the bottle down, Tyler slid back down the bed, shifting closer to you.

“Come here,” he murmured, opening his arms invitingly. You didn’t hesitate, rolling into him and snuggling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tight, as if he never wanted to let go.

The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him—like fresh air and a hint of cologne, grounding and comforting all at once. Tyler’s fingers began to brush gently through your hair, the rhythm soothing as he held you close.

“Was that enough attention for you?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your forehead as he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. The teasing tone was laced with genuine affection, and you could hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, your heart fluttering at the sight of him—the way his eyes sparkled with a playful challenge, but also the warmth that radiated from him. “For now,” you replied playfully, smirking slightly. “But you know I could always use more.”

Tyler chuckled, the sound rich and deep, reverberating through your shared warmth. “Well, I’ll make a note of that,” he said, his voice playful yet serious. “I’m always ready to give you the attention you need, darlin’. Just promise me you won’t be too much of a brat next time.”

You grinned, feeling the warmth of his affection envelop you, grateful for this moment of intimacy. It was in these quiet seconds, nestled against him, that you felt the strongest bond between you both—the balance of playful teasing and heartfelt connection that defined your relationship.

As you lay there together, the world outside fading into nothingness, you knew you had found your home in his arms.

[bitchiswild]

Lookingforadom.com

G!P Huh Yunjin x F!Reader

Words Count: 6k

Warnings: soft dom yunjin I think… yea it should be

A/n: haiii Sorry 😓 been busy and having writers block😫

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kazuha asks, a note of concern in her voice.

You sigh, your eyes fixed on the laptop screen where the search bar reads, Lookingforadom.com. "At this point, Kazuha, I need some action in my life," you admit.

Kazuha tilts her head thoughtfully. "I mean, at least find a soft dom. I feel like that's more up your alley."

You click on the first search result, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The website's homepage is sleek and inviting, filled with profiles of people seeking all sorts of dynamics. You glance at Kazuha, who is watching you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Okay, let's see," you murmur, scrolling through the profiles. Some of them are intimidating, with bold statements and intense photographs. You feel a bit overwhelmed but continue your search, determined to find someone who matches Kazuha's suggestion.

After a few minutes, you find a profile that catches your eye. The username is "GentleMistress," and the description reads: "Soft dom seeking a respectful and eager sub. Let's explore boundaries with care and mutual respect."

"This one looks promising," you say, turning the laptop towards Kazuha. She leans in, reading the profile over your shoulder.

"She seems nice," she agrees. "Why don't you send her a message?"

Taking a deep breath, you click on the message button and start typing:

"Hi, GentleMistress. I'm new to this and looking for someone who can guide me gently. Your profile stood out to me because it seems like you value respect and care. I'd love to chat and see if we connect."

You hover over the send button for a moment, then click it before you can second-guess yourself. The message sends, and you lean back in your chair, exhaling slowly.

Kazuha smiles reassuringly. "I think you made a good choice. Now we wait."

As you wait for a response, you chat about other things, trying to distract yourself from the anticipation. Your mind keeps drifting back to the message, wondering what kind of person GentleMistress is and what this new adventure will bring into your life.

Hours have passed, and doubts begin to creep into your mind. What if GentleMistress doesn't like you? What if this whole thing is a mistake? The "what ifs" swirl around your head, making you second-guess your decision.

Kazuha had left a while ago, reassuring you with a hug before she went. Now, alone in your room, the silence is deafening. You keep glancing at your phone, willing a notification to appear.

Just as you’re about to give up hope, a ping echoes from your phone. Your heart races as you pick it up, the screen illuminating with a new message notification. You hold your breath and open it.

It's from GentleMistress.

"Hi there! Thank you for reaching out. I appreciate your honesty and courage in taking this step. I'd love to chat and get to know you better. When would you be available for a video call?"

A mix of relief and excitement washes over you. You quickly type back a response, your fingers trembling slightly.

"Hi, GentleMistress. Thank you for replying! I'm free tomorrow evening if that works for you."

You hit send and stare at the screen, waiting for a reply. Within minutes, another ping sounds.

"Tomorrow evening sounds perfect. Looking forward to it. Have a great night!"

You can't help but smile. The doubts that had plagued you earlier start to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Tomorrow is going to be interesting, and you feel a flicker of hope for this new adventure.

As you put your phone down, you take a deep breath and decide to relax for the rest of the night. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and with it, the potential for something new and exciting.

The next day feels like it drags on forever. You go about your usual routine, but your mind keeps drifting back to the upcoming video call. What will GentleMistress be like? What will you talk about? A mix of excitement and nerves buzzes in your stomach.

Finally, evening arrives. You sit down at your desk, making sure your laptop camera is positioned correctly. Taking a deep breath, you open your laptop and log in to the website, finding the message from GentleMistress. Right on time, a notification pops up: "GentleMistress is calling."

You click accept, and the screen fills with GentleMistress's image. She has kind eyes and a warm smile that instantly puts you at ease.

"Hi there," she greets, her voice calm and reassuring. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hi," you respond, trying to steady your voice. "It's nice to meet you too."

You spend the first few minutes exchanging pleasantries, talking about your day and getting comfortable with each other. GentleMistress is patient and attentive, asking questions about your interests and making you feel heard.

"So," she says, leaning in a little closer to the camera, "what made you decide to look for this kind of relationship?"

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. "I've been feeling like I need more excitement in my life, something different. I want to explore this side of myself, but I also want to do it with someone who respects boundaries and is caring."

GentleMistress nods thoughtfully. "That's a very mature and honest reason. I appreciate you sharing that with me. It's important to have a foundation of trust and communication in any relationship, especially in this dynamic."

As the conversation continues, you find yourself relaxing more and more. GentleMistress's approach is gentle and respectful, exactly what you were hoping for. She shares her own experiences and reassures you that it's okay to take things at your own pace.

After about an hour, the conversation winds down. "This has been really great," GentleMistress says. "I think we have a good connection, and I'd like to continue getting to know you better. How do you feel about that?"

You smile, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. "I feel the same way. I'd like to continue as well."

"Excellent," she replies, her smile widening. "Let's set up another call soon. In the meantime, if you have any questions or just want to chat, feel free to message me anytime."

You end the call with a sense of accomplishment and a newfound sense of excitement for what lies ahead. This new adventure is starting to feel like the right choice, and you can't wait to see where it leads.

As you close your laptop, you realize that sometimes taking a leap of faith can lead to the most rewarding experiences. You feel a renewed sense of hope and anticipation for the future.

Over the next few days, you exchange messages with GentleMistress. Each conversation reveals more about her, and you feel increasingly comfortable and excited about this new connection. She shares her thoughts on boundaries, trust, and the importance of communication in a dynamic like the one you're exploring.

One evening, as you're scrolling through her latest message, a new notification pops up. It's a message from Kazuha.

"Hey, how's it going with GentleMistress? Have you guys talked more?"

You smile and quickly type back, "Yeah, we've been messaging a lot. She's really kind and respectful. I think this could be something good."

Almost immediately, Kazuha replies, "I'm glad to hear that! Do you have another call scheduled?"

"Not yet," you type back. "But I think I'll suggest one soon."

Later that night, you muster up the courage to ask GentleMistress for another video call. Her response is prompt and positive, agreeing to chat the next evening. You feel a flutter of anticipation as you prepare for the call.

The next evening, you log in a few minutes early, eager to see GentleMistress again. When the call connects, her warm smile greets you once more.

"Hello again," she says, her voice smooth and welcoming. "How have you been?"

"I've been good," you reply. "I've been looking forward to this."

"Me too," she responds, her eyes twinkling. "I thought tonight we could talk a bit more about what you're looking for and how we can explore that together."

You nod, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "That sounds great. I think I'd like to start slowly, really get to know each other and build that trust."

"Absolutely," GentleMistress agrees. "Trust is the foundation of everything we do. It's important that you feel safe and respected at all times."

The conversation flows naturally from there. You discuss your boundaries, your interests, and what excites you about this journey. GentleMistress listens intently, offering her own insights and reassurances.

As the call continues, you feel a growing sense of connection and confidence. GentleMistress's thoughtful approach and genuine care make you feel valued and understood.

"Thank you for being so open with me," GentleMistress says as the call comes to an end. "I think we're building a really good foundation here. Let's plan another call soon, and in the meantime, keep communicating through messages."

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. "I really appreciate how patient and understanding you've been."

After the call, you sit back and reflect on the evening. This journey is just beginning, but already it feels like you're on the right path. With GentleMistress guiding you, you feel a sense of anticipation building inside you, longing for the moment when her gentle touch becomes a reality.

You imagine the future chats, the moments of exploration, and the trust growing between you. The thought of GentleMistress by your side fills you with a warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

Closing your eyes, you can almost sense her presence, her calming influence. You realize you're eagerly awaiting the next time you'll see her, the next opportunity to deepen this connection.

The following weekend, you decide to take a break from your usual routine and head to a cozy cafe downtown. As you enter, you scan the room for an empty table, and that's when you spot her—GentleMistress, sitting by the window, lost in thought as she sips her coffee.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her, and you can't resist the urge to walk over.

"Hi," you say with a smile as you approach her table. "Fancy meeting you here."

GentleMistress looks up, surprise flickering in her eyes before a smile spreads across her face. "Well, hello there," she responds, setting her cup down. "What a pleasant surprise indeed."

You pull out the chair opposite her. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," she says, gesturing for you to sit. "Please, have a seat."

You settle into the chair, feeling a rush of excitement at being so close to her. The atmosphere is charged with possibility, and you can't help but let a playful grin tug at your lips.

"So, what brings you here today?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"Just taking a break from work," GentleMistress replies. "And enjoying some coffee. What about you?"

"Same here," you say. "Needed a change of scenery. And I'm glad I stumbled upon you."

GentleMistress chuckles softly. "Well, I'm glad you did too."

The conversation flows easily between you, filled with laughter and shared stories. You find yourself flirting subtly, enjoying the playful banter with GentleMistress.

As the conversation continues, you muster up the courage to take it a step further. Leaning in slightly, you shoot her a teasing smile. "You know, I must say, you have the most captivating eyes."

GentleMistress's cheeks tint with a hint of pink, but she meets your gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. "Why, thank you," she replies, her tone playful. "Yours aren't too bad either."

You both share a moment of lingering eye contact, and the air between you crackles with tension. It's exhilarating, knowing that the attraction is mutual.

Before things can escalate further, GentleMistress glances at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. I should probably get going soon."

You feel a pang of disappointment but quickly recover. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

"Looking forward to it," she says with a smile, gathering her things.

As GentleMistress walks away, you watch her go, already counting down the moments until your next encounter.

You barely have time to settle back into your routine after leaving the cafe when your phone buzzes with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see it's from GentleMistress.

"Hey there," the message reads, "I couldn't stop thinking about how lovely you looked today. Would you like to go out tonight? Dinner, perhaps?"

A rush of excitement floods through you at her message. It hasn't even been two hours since you saw her, and she's already texting you. You can't help but smile at her directness and enthusiasm.

Quickly typing a reply, you say, "Hi! That sounds wonderful. I'd love to go out with you tonight."

Almost immediately, another message comes through. "Great! I'll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice ;) Looking forward to it!"

Your heart races at the thought of spending more time with her so soon. You quickly agree and spend the rest of the afternoon eagerly anticipating the evening ahead.

As the clock ticks closer to 7, you find yourself getting ready with a mix of nerves and excitement. You choose your outfit carefully, wanting to make a good impression.

At exactly 7, there's a knock on your door, and when you open it, GentleMistress stands there, looking even more stunning than you remembered.

"Hi," she says, her smile lighting up her face. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look fantastic too."

With a smile, she offers you her arm, and together you head out for a night filled with good food, laughter, and the promise of something more between you.

As you step out with GentleMistress, now knowing her name is Yunjin, you feel a magnetic pull between you. The air crackles with anticipation as you walk side by side, the distance between you charged with unspoken desire.

The restaurant Yunjin has chosen is cozy and dimly lit, the perfect setting for an intimate evening. You're seated at a private corner table, and as you settle in, you can't help but notice the way Yunjin's gaze lingers on you.

"You look stunning tonight," she says, her voice low and filled with warmth.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of her gaze. "You look absolutely gorgeous too."

A smirk plays on Yunjin's lips as she leans in slightly. "I couldn't take my eyes off you earlier. You have this... captivating presence."

Heat rises to your cheeks at her words, and you find yourself drawn to her, unable to look away. The chemistry between you is undeniable, the tension thick in the air.

As the evening progresses, conversation flows easily between you, but underneath it all, there's an undercurrent of something more. Every touch, every glance is charged with electricity, sending tingles down your spine.

At one point, Yunjin's foot brushes against yours under the table, and you feel a jolt of excitement shoot through you. She meets your eyes with a knowing smile, her gaze smoldering with desire.

"You know," she says, her voice husky, "there's something about you that I find incredibly alluring."

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, your heart pounding in your chest. "Is that so?" you manage to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yunjin leans in closer, her lips inches from yours. "Absolutely," she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin. "I can't seem to get you out of my mind."

The tension between you is palpable, the desire hanging heavy in the air. You're both on the edge of something exhilarating, something you both crave.

Before things can escalate further, the waiter interrupts, bringing your food and breaking the spell between you. But the intensity of the moment lingers, and you know this is only the beginning of something electrifying between you and Yunjin.

As you finish your meal, the tension between you and Yunjin remains palpable, simmering just beneath the surface. You both step out of the restaurant, and the cool evening air does little to cool the heat between you.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Yunjin suggests, her voice soft yet filled with a hint of anticipation.

"Sure," you reply, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of being alone with her, even just for a little while longer.

You stroll side by side along the quiet streets, the city lights casting a warm glow around you. The silence between you is comfortable, charged with unspoken desires.

After a while, Yunjin breaks the silence. "You know," she says, her voice low, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we met."

The admission sends a thrill through you, and you turn to face her. "I've been thinking about you too," you confess, your heart racing.

Yunjin's gaze softens as she looks at you. "There's something about you that draws me in," she admits. "I feel like we have a connection, something special."

You nod, feeling the intensity of the moment. "I feel it too."

Without warning, Yunjin reaches out and gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her touch sending shivers down your spine. The intimacy of the gesture leaves you breathless.

"I want to kiss you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet her gaze, desire burning in her eyes. Without hesitation, you lean in, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a soft, electrifying kiss, and in that moment, the world around you fades away.

The kiss deepens, igniting a fire between you that feels impossible to extinguish. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in each other, the passion and longing consuming you both.

When you finally pull away, breathless and exhilarated, Yunjin smiles, her eyes sparkling with affection.

"We should do this again," she says, her voice filled with promise.

You nod, feeling a sense of excitement for what the future holds. "Definitely," you agree, knowing that this is only the beginning of something extraordinary between you.

As you walk hand in hand with Yunjin, the connection between you feels stronger than ever. You find yourselves drawn to a quiet park nearby, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a romantic ambiance around you.

Finding a secluded bench, you sit down together, the atmosphere heavy with the electricity of the moment.

Yunjin turns to you, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "You know," she begins, her voice filled with sincerity, "there's something about you that I haven't felt in a long time."

Curious, you meet her gaze. "What is it?"

"It's like you awaken something inside me," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. "A desire to explore, to connect on a deeper level."

You feel a warmth spread through you at her words, knowing that you feel the same way. "I feel it too," you admit, reaching out to gently caress her hand.

Yunjin leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours. "I want to get to know you more," she says softly, her lips almost brushing against yours. "Every part of you, every inch of you."

The intensity of her gaze sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a hunger within you that you can't ignore.

"I want that too," you reply, your voice filled with longing.

Without another word, Yunjin closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. It's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you and the intensity of your desire.

Lost in the moment, you let yourselves be consumed by the fire that burns between you, exploring each other with a hunger that can't be quenched.

When you finally break apart, breathless and exhilarated, Yunjin smiles at you, her eyes filled with tenderness.

"I'm so glad I met you," she whispers, her voice filled with sincerity.

"I'm glad I met you too," you reply, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Yunjin's gaze holds yours, filled with a mixture of desire and affection.

"Would you like to go back to my house?" she asks softly, her voice laced with anticipation.

The question hangs in the air between you, and you feel a surge of excitement at the thought of being alone with her, of exploring this connection further.

A million thoughts race through your mind, but ultimately, you know what you want.

"Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with determination. "I would like that."

Yunjin's smile deepens, and she stands up, offering you her hand. "Come on," she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Let's go."

As you arrive at Yunjin's house, anticipation hangs thick in the air between you. She leads you inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you as you step through the door.

The soft glow of the lights creates an intimate atmosphere as Yunjin turns to face you, her eyes filled with desire. Without a word, she reaches out and pulls you into her arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss is electric, sending sparks flying through you as you melt into each other. Yunjin's lips are soft yet demanding, her hands trailing down your back, pulling you closer.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangling in her hair as you deepen the kiss. It's like you can't get close enough, your bodies pressing together as if trying to merge into one.

Lost in the moment, you stumble backward until your back meets the wall, Yunjin pressing against you, her body molded to yours. Every touch, every caress sends waves of pleasure through you, igniting a fire that burns hot between you.

Yunjin's lips trail down your neck, sending shivers down your spine as she nibbles and kisses along your skin. Your breath hitches with every touch, desire pooling low in your belly.

With a soft moan, you tilt your head back, giving her better access as she explores every inch of your neck with her lips and tongue.

The sensation is overwhelming, and you find yourself completely lost in the moment, consumed by the passion and desire that courses between you.

Yunjin's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour, setting your skin ablaze with need. You reciprocate, trailing your own hands along her back, reveling in the feeling of her pressed against you.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourselves in each other, the world outside fading away until there's nothing but the two of you and the fire that burns between you.

Yunjin breaks the intense silence, her voice husky with desire. "Let me take you to my room," she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear, "so I can show you why we met on that website."

Her words send a thrill through you, and you nod eagerly, unable to resist the pull of her invitation.

"Lead the way," you reply, your voice filled with anticipation.

Yunjin takes your hand and leads you down the hall to her bedroom, the air charged with excitement and longing.

As Yunjin guides you to her bedroom, the air crackles with anticipation. Once inside, she turns to face you, her eyes dark with desire and a soft, reassuring smile on her lips. Without a word, she steps closer, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, igniting the passion between you once more.

With practiced movements, Yunjin begins to undress you, her touch sending shivers down your spine as each piece of clothing falls away, leaving you bare before her.

"You're so beautiful," she whispers, her voice filled with reverence as she traces her fingers along your jawline.

Your heart flutters at her words, feeling completely at ease under her gentle gaze.

Yunjin's touch is tender yet purposeful as she begins to undress you, each movement filled with care and affection. As your clothes fall away, you stand before her, exposed and vulnerable yet entirely safe.

With a soft sigh, Yunjin leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It's like every touch, every caress is carefully calculated to make you feel cherished and desired.

As the kiss deepens, Yunjin's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour. Her touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that only she can satisfy.

"I want to take care of you," she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. "To make you feel good."

You nod, unable to find words as desire pools low in your belly.

With a gentle push, Yunjin guides you onto the bed, her eyes never leaving yours. She leans over you, her body hovering just inches above yours, radiating warmth and tenderness.

"I want you to feel every touch," she says softly, her breath warm against your skin.

With that, Yunjin's hands begin to explore your body, tracing every curve and dip with reverence. Her touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As she moves lower, her lips trail kisses along your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch, every caress is like a promise of ecstasy, building the anticipation to unbearable heights.

When she finally reaches between your legs, her touch is gentle yet firm, sending sparks of pleasure dancing along your skin. You gasp at the sensation, arching into her touch as she brings you to the edge of bliss.

"Yunjin," you whimper, your voice filled with need.

She meets your gaze, her eyes filled with love and desire. "I've got you," she whispers, her voice a soothing melody.

With slow, deliberate movements, Yunjin spreads your legs wider, exposing you completely to her gaze. Her fingers dance lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

Then, with a teasing touch, Yunjin's tongue darts out, tracing a slow path along your folds, collecting your arousal as she goes. You gasp at the sensation, your breath hitching as she explores you.

Yunjin's tongue works magic, swirling and flicking against your clit, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Her fingers join in, slipping inside you with ease, filling you up and driving you wild with need.

You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to her, desperate for more of her touch. Yunjin responds eagerly, her movements becoming more intense, more insistent as she brings you closer to the edge.

With every flick of her tongue and every thrust of her fingers, you feel yourself unraveling, pleasure building to an exquisite peak.

"Oh, Yunjin," you moan, your voice filled with longing.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire as she continues to pleasure you, her touch relentless and intoxicating.

And then, with one final, mind-shattering wave of pleasure, you come undone in her arms, crying out her name as ecstasy washes over you.

Yunjin holds you close as you ride out the waves of pleasure, her touch soft yet messy, her fingers and lips leaving you utterly wrecked but completely satisfied in the best possible way.

Feeling you quivering with pleasure beneath her touch, Yunjin can't ignore the ache between her own legs. The desire to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around her, becomes almost unbearable.

With a soft groan, Yunjin positions herself above you, her hardness straining against her, aching to be buried deep inside you.

Hovering over you, she locks eyes with you, her gaze dark with need as she guides herself to your entrance. The anticipation sends a shiver down her spine as she presses forward, the tip of her hardness teasing your slick folds.

"I need to be inside you," she breathes, her voice thick with desire, her hips moving slowly forward, inch by inch.

You gaze up at her with longing, your own desire mirroring hers, and you nod eagerly, craving the feeling of her inside you just as much.

With a slow, deliberate pace, Yunjin pushes forward, her hardness sliding into you, filling you up until she's buried deep within your warmth. She pauses, savoring the feeling of being joined with you so intimately, the sensation almost overwhelming in its intensity.

"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Yunjin groans, her voice husky with pleasure, her hips rolling against yours.

You gasp at the fullness of her, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. Wrapping your arms around her, you pull her closer, urging her to move.

Yunjin complies, starting to move with a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust is deliberate, calculated to drive you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Fuck, you're so tight," she moans, her voice filled with admiration, her hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency.

Your body responds eagerly to her praise, your own arousal building with each movement. You meet her thrusts eagerly, your bodies moving together in perfect synchronization.

With every thrust, you feel the delicious pressure building inside you, pleasure mounting with each movement. Your bodies meld together, becoming one in the throes of passion.

Yunjin's pace quickens, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she chases her own release, her hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency.

"You're so fucking beautiful," she groans, her voice filled with reverence, her movements becoming more frantic as she approaches climax.

You arch into her, meeting her thrusts with equal fervor, your own need driving you both towards climax.

You arch into her, meeting her thrusts with equal fervor, your own need driving you both towards climax. Sensing your desire, Yunjin shifts position, pulling out of you gently before guiding you onto your hands and knees.

"Let's try something different," she whispers, her voice thick with arousal, her hands gripping your hips as she positions herself behind you.

You eagerly comply, feeling a surge of anticipation as Yunjin lines herself up behind you, her hardness pressing against your slick folds.

With a low growl of need, Yunjin enters you again, this time from behind, and you gasp at the sensation of being filled in a new way.

"Fuck," you moan, the new angle sending bolts of pleasure through you.

Yunjin's hands roam over your body, gripping your hips firmly as she sets a rhythm, each thrust driving you both closer to the edge.

"Oh god, yes," she groans, her voice thick with desire as she pounds into you from behind.

"You're doing so well," Yunjin praises, her voice soft yet commanding, her hips moving with purpose as she takes you.

You push back against her, meeting her thrusts with equal fervor, lost in the pleasure of being taken so completely by her.

With each movement, the intensity builds, pleasure mounting with each deep thrust. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driving each other towards ecstasy.

Yunjin's pace quickens, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she chases her own release, her hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency.

"You feel so fucking good," she moans, her voice filled with lust and admiration.

You're on the edge, the pleasure building to an exquisite peak, and with one final, powerful thrust, you both cry out in ecstasy as you find release together.

In the throes of orgasm, Yunjin spills her seed inside you, the warmth of her release adding to your pleasure as you clench around her, riding out the waves of ecstasy together.

Collapsed in a heap of pleasure, you both catch your breath, feeling utterly spent but completely satisfied.

After the intense release, you collapse together, breathing heavily, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Yunjin, still holding you close, gently guides you to lie on your back, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Let me take care of you," she murmurs, her voice filled with tenderness.

You nod, feeling a shiver of anticipation as Yunjin settles between your legs, her fingers trailing down your body until they reach your sensitive core.

With a gentle touch, she begins to play with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Her touch is skilled, knowing exactly how to make you squirm and moan with delight.

"Oh, Yunjin," you whimper, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

She smiles up at you, her eyes filled with adoration. "You're so responsive," she praises, her voice sending a thrill down your spine.

Yunjin continues her ministrations, her fingers working magic on your sensitive flesh. Each stroke, each caress brings you closer to the edge once again.

You arch into her touch, craving more of her, feeling her seed spilling out of your cunt, mixing with your arousal.

"You're so beautiful like this," Yunjin whispers, her breath warm against your skin, her fingers never ceasing their delicious torture.

The pleasure builds and builds, until you're teetering on the brink once again, your whole body humming with need.

And then, with one final flick of her fingers, you tumble over the edge, crying out her name as pleasure washes over you in waves.

Yunjin holds you through your climax, her touch gentle and comforting as you ride out the aftershocks, feeling completely blissful in her embrace.

Yunjin holds you close, her touch gentle and reassuring as you both catch your breath. She presses soft kisses against your skin, her lips trailing along your neck and collarbone with tenderness.

"You're amazing," she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine affection, "thank you for trusting me."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "Thank you for everything," you reply, your voice soft with contentment.

Yunjin pulls you into a loving embrace, holding you as if she never wants to let go. The room is filled with a sense of peace and intimacy, a sanctuary where you can be completely yourselves.

"I want to take care of you," Yunjin says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

And she does just that, tending to you with gentle touches and sweet words. Whether it's wiping away stray tears, cuddling you close, or simply whispering words of comfort, she's there for you every step of the way.

You bask in her affection, feeling safe and cherished in her arms. There's nowhere else you'd rather be than here, wrapped up in this moment of love and intimacy.

As you lay together, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of happiness.

"I'm so glad I met you," Yunjin says, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Me too," you reply, snuggling closer to her, feeling completely at peace.

Yunjin pulls the covers over you both, tucking them snugly around you as if she's shielding you from the world. She presses a tender kiss to your forehead before snuggling close to you, her warmth comforting against your skin.

For a while, you simply lay there in comfortable silence, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. It's a moment of peace and closeness that you wouldn't trade for anything.

Yunjin reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch gentle and loving. "You're welcome here anytime," she says, her eyes locking with yours.

You feel a rush of gratitude for her hospitality and her genuine kindness. With Yunjin, you feel accepted and cared for in a way you've never experienced before.

Snuggled together in the quiet of the night, you feel a sense of belonging, as if you've found a piece of home in each other's arms.

As sleep begins to claim you both, you drift off feeling grateful for this moment, and excited for the future that lies ahead with Yunjin by your side.

[imagine-shenanigans]

Hands on my knees.

Now I'm thinking of an au because of the nasty coworker soap hidden camera thing. AU where some prick you slept with left a hidden camera in your apartment for a live stream on the dark web (shut up i know its cliche let me live) and its a 24/7 stream of your bedroom with audio.

And one of the boys is a frequent viewer, watches a stupid amount of the time they're on leave. Eats dinner while watching their favorite show, etc etc.

(Dark stuff and NSFW ahead warning.)

Soap is the one who is the most impulsive about it. He's the one who feels guilty about it until he covers his own hand in his cum while watching you play a game on your phone. It's an insatiable need at this point. Can't cum without thinking of the bonnie little thing on his computer screen. You said the word Soap out loud once while talking to a friend on the phone or going through a list and he came so hard he saw stars. Went back and clipped the audio, he has it saved on his phone with other words, just so he can hear you say his callsign. He feels just a little guilty after he cums to you doing stretches.

But that's the allure of it, the taboo, knowing he's a fucking freak but doing it anyway. And god does he love it. Honestly the guilt fades REALLY quickly when he realizes how long the camera has been there, bordering on months. Such a poor thing you are, so vulnerable, so sweet. You just need someone to protect you from the nasty men in this world. Need someone even nastier to do it.

He makes the impulsive decision to go to the pub you mention on the phone with a friend. He waits until you're just a little drunk and "accidentally" bumps into you. Makes himself as charming as possible, smiles and laughs with you, until youre bringing him into your home. He positions you just right so the camera can see (he's recording the stream at home) and makes you as loud as possible, tongue laving over your inner thighs, leaving searing bites anywhere he can reach like he's claiming you.

(He is.)

He makes sure the camera gets a perfect shot of him cumming inside of you without protection. Hooks his fingers into your mouth so you can't stop the sounds you're making. He licks the drool from your chin and up into your mouth. Spends hours making you cum your brains out when he's not using you, well past the point of overstimulation by the time he settles, leaving you a hiccupping and sobbing mess as he rubs soothing cream over you, cuddling you to his chest so that this time, the camera can't see you at all.

He gives a peace sign to the camera after you fall asleep, and says "Alright ye bloody animals, shows over." before breaking the thing. Shoves it in the middle of your kitchen garbage before washing his hands and crawling back into bed with you. He sets up a new camera by the next morning, this one just for himself.

(and, if he releases clips of you two fucking online, that's between him and the rest of the god forsaken fucks on there.)

//

Price is shameless about watching you.

He knows he's going to hell, what's one more sin along the way? He indulges himself far more than any of the others. The silence gets to him when he's on leave, and what better way to fill it than with a pretty/handsome thing going about their life? He spends pretty much every waking and sleeping minute with his laptop open to your feed, watching you go about your day. It's mostly mundane, really, sick in nature but not a sexual thing for the most part. Of course, he gives his cock slow, languid strokes when he watches your hips eagerly buck into the vibrating toy you're using, whimpers falling from your pretty lips that John just wants to swallow whole. Too impatient for your own good, you need to be held down and edged for a good hour.

It's that thought that sends him spiraling.

How much better oof you'd be if you just had him to take care of you. Such a shame a nasty, terrible man put a camera in your room - he'll fix that.

He ends up moving into the flat/house next to yours when it mysteriously comes available. He really wants a cute little spouse to come home to - really wants to sit them on his cock until theyre crying and begging him to move. (And if he can get them to call him daddy, well, wouldn't that be a sight?)

He takes the longest out of all the boys, ends up being the model neighbor, coaxes you out like a feral little animal until you're spending more time in his place than your own. He hates that so many people (mainly men, his main issue is the men) can see you at any given time. Can take what should be his. So he waits until you're out for work one day and he uses the spare key you gave him (so trustingly, honey you shouldn't give things to strange men like him. He'll bend you over his knee until you learn your lesson.) and he sneaks into your room and moves the camera just a bit after disabling it. Just enough so its more noticeable in the light.

(If he steals a pair of panties, well... he does.)

And when you come crying and shaking to his doorstep later, he breaks the thing in his hand, and chucks it before he ushers you into his place and coos at you as he fingers you in his lap, edging you as you work through all those big emotions :( Poor baby, he's got you now, no need to be so scared, he'll get you nice and needy and then fuck you until you're brainlessly drooling into his pillow. He'll even be so kind as to slip his ring on your finger too, just to make sure you know he's not going to let anyone else have you anymore. That he'll make sure you're safe from now on, isn't that nice pumpkin?

//

Gaz I'm still trying to figure out how to write but I think he'd see the stream by accident, he's not gone looking for it, and he feels sharp revulsion when he figures out what it is while looking for some other information. And he's taking note of all of the things in the room, desperately trying to piece together where you live so he can do the right thing and figure out how to tell you about the stream. Definitely not because he's interested, and sure it's taking him a few days and repeated visits and- well, okay, you have this cute thing you do and- okay he's not... well he knows he's being a creep, but he's doing it for the right reasons. Totally. He's not... he's not being weird for no reason like some of these other creeps. And yeah, okay, he jacks off to you now and then, it's not that big of a deal, he's a little lonely and he's a little desperate okay?

He tells himself he's gonna quit, that he's not going to do anything, but then suddenly he's in your town on his leave, and he's putting himself in your path at every given opportunity. Of course, by then he's long since accepted he's being a real fucking freak by what he's doing, but doesn't he deserve something nice? Don't you?

And sure, okay, it's a huge ego boost when you do look at him and flush, when you try to collect your thoughts when you hear his voice. He smiles prettily at you and it all sort of spirals from there, until he's well and truly charmed you. He drops hints about the camera, but nothing directly implied. He finds a story on the news app on his phone about something similar and cringes, pretending like he isn't STILL watching the live feed of your apartment when he's in his own. Says something about how only a real freak would put a camera in someone's house. Good thing you've never done that to his place and he laughs, because he's never been to yours yet so you take it as a joke.

Weeks later, when you're doing a clean of your apartment, you find the camera and call him, and he comes over and hugs you, coos that it's probably not even plugged in, just some dick trying to scare you. He helps you run through who it could possibly be that did it, until he's given the dude's full name and address online.

He gives the camera a shit eating grin over your shoulder, looking directly into it even though you haven't pointed it out yet.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and offers you stay at his place for the night (when he really means forever.) He makes sure there's no cameras around you ever again.

//

Ghost is... the worst of them. In his own special way.

Assuming he isn't the one who put the damn thing in your room, he's definitely a regular on some of the grossest sites known to man, half out of sheer morbid curiosity, and half because he sometimes does end up finding things he likes. Your stream isn't the first he's watched, but it is the first he stays for. There's something about you that mesmerizes him. He ends up visiting the stream more and more until he's pieced together where you live and what your general schedule is. It takes a few months, but he wants you for himself - nothing else will do.

There's no preamble, no game that's played like the others. He forges a passport and documents and gets everything set up, and you don't even know that you're about to go tumbling into his net. He's quick about it, when he gets into your apartment. Ends up tying you up nice and neat, arms behind your back and ankles to your thighs while you sleep. Leaves the gag for last, just for the thrill of you screaming (so he can punish you) when you wake up. He blindfolds you, and moves the camera for a better view before flicking the lights on. He wakes you up with a slap to your ass, feeling himself grow hard as you panic. He cuts your clothes off with a knife, tells you not to squirm, and when you do and he knicks you, he just tuts and tells you that you shoulda known better.

Licks the blood from your skin with his mask rolled up before he pulls it back down (just a plain balaclava). He ends up hoisting you up so you're on your knees, positions you perfect for the camera to see, and fingerfucks you nice and fast, one hand on your throat to keep you upright, the other pitoning in and out of your hole. He makes sure to hit your g-spot/prostate every single time when he finds it, sets an absolutely brutal pace that has your tears leaking through the blindfold. When you get close, he bullies your clit/cock, moving fast and hard until you're screaming and you collapse. He tells you this is your fault, for trusting some prick and not even checking your own home.

Lines his cock up with you and doesn't prep you any further, only one orgasm and a little bit of finger fucking not nearly enough to prep you for what he's packing. He ends up fucking you hard, and fast, and brutal, still pumping your cock/rubbing your clit through the whole thing, not caring for anything but how you cry and squeeze so tight around his cock. He lets you heave sobs when he finally cums inside, no protection, and he pinches your nipples painfully hard to get your attention. When he's sure he's got it, he warns you not to let him drip out of you. Never tells you to stop crying, but tells you if you scream or try and get away, you will not like the punishment. He takes the gag out and you try to wriggle away, so he puts the gag back in while you try and apologize, ask for a second chance, and he just puts you on the floor, angles the camera just so, and takes the blindfold off. He tells you exactly how long he's been watching, how many people he sees in the stream at any given time, and then he ties a vibrator to your clit/cock and sets it on the highest setting it can go. He tells you to give the boys a good show before you retire from your acting career, and presses a kiss to your forehead through the mask.

He gives you an hour alone with your fans while he packs your stuff into the boot of his rental car.

[rtofbs]

astrology notes 3: fixed placements edition

note: these are my personal observations based on the people around me, take what resonate, feel free to add your own observations.

Leo Suns as parents tend to give a freedom to their child and I feel like this is because they want to give the child a space and time to work on their individuality and developing their Sun qualities (self-esteem, vitality and general creativity) Leo understands the importance of a healthy ego and core individuality that will support their child in the future as well as they understand that it's crucial for a child to move from the comfort of the Moon to the creative and boss energies of the Sun.

Leo Moons are forever child at heart even if they are over 50 years old, they strive in these care-free and joyous energies, love to receive and give the attention, and I've noticed this is true even with one of the toughest Sun placements - Capricorn.

Capricorn with Leo Moon is like a soft bear who is very tough on the outside, but is very sweet and affectionate on the inside. also I've noticed that Leo Moons take their hobbies very close to their hearts, same goes to Moon in 5th. when playing with other people, they might get competitive as fuck.

Moon in Scorpio are one of the sweetest people: attentive and caring, very focused if the person is feeling good and comfortable, they can get very anxious to ensure that the person is feeling good to the point it's very cute. I might he highly biased here as my Venus in Scorpio loves LOVES lOvES LoVeS Moons in Scorpio. Moon in Scorpio also respects the privacy of other people as they want their privacy to be respected since they've experience a lot of privacy and boundary violation in childhood.

Tauruses no matter what is the Venus sign are very good at spotting beauty and know best how to make things beautiful, and they in general appreciate the beauty and comfort around them, and they might be very artistic from the very young age, and sometime get clingy, especially in childhood. Taurus vibes to me is: comfort, money, good sleep, food, relaxation, their fashion, skin-care, routine, sex, and again sex, relationships, convenience, consistency, stubbornness, calm confidence, and care.

in general Taurus placements are prone to being very conservative to the point of using very old versions of the OS in their laptop as they know it works best for them, and even if they realise that the new one might be better, but they are still attached to what they are used to. Taurus placements in general they have their own speed of doing things, but Moon in Taurus comes first of being very slow to changes and they need time to prepare for things and occasions to come.

Mothers of Moon in Taurus can be very controlling and dominating but they will give the child the financial prosperity and ensure their child have some stuff in their possessions: like some property.

Taurus x Scorpio axis gives me the vibes "let's make love and make money" 🥰

Sun and Moon in Aquarius love to tease people, especially with other Scorpio placements. they are funny sometimes to the point of being socially awkward, but always happy if people can have funny banter with them. if you want to know if the person with Moon in Aquarius feels good about you, then observe how they behave with you: the weirder it gets - more comfortable they feel themselves around you.

Mercury in Aquarius art definitely leans towards some absurd and grotesque stuff, and might be difficult to grasp the genius of their verbal creativity, but it's doubtlessly unique as they have their OWN way of expressing their thoughts.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight, Ch 5: To Atomize

summary: nathan leaves his house to tell you he loves you.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, mentions of sick/dying parent, pining, dom/sub dynamics, mid love confessions, oral (m + f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, squirting, NATHAN’S SO IN LOVE AND SIMPY AND FREE

wc: 6,138

an: we've sadly reached the end of the main story. thank you thank you for all the support on this fic. a girl watches ex machina once and suddenly is writing 20+k for an asshole simp. i do plan to write the extras fairly quickly (the next month or so) and they'll vary in length. i hope y'all stick around for more of them.

in plain sight masterlist | family dinner | tiana | TIONB | planted | little hamlet

You and Nathan are doing work out on the couch, your legs thrown over his. It’s all very domestic, something the both of you could get used to. 

He doesn’t look up when he asks, “That date out— do you still want it?”

“I do but honestly, I don’t think it’s realistic. You like being out here, Emma and Phillipa shouldn’t be at home by themselves for so long— not to mention my mom.”

“You don’t talk about your mom,” He observes, his eyes rising from his laptop to look at you. 

You continue your work as you talk, “There’s too much to talk about. And nothing at all.”

“And the vagueness returns,” There’s more bite in his voice than he wants there to be, but he can’t help it.

You notice immediately— going rigid like stone before you fix him with an empty gaze. “She’s dying. She can’t work. She sleeps most days. In the mornings before I come here, I read to her and when I get home I tell her I love her and kiss her goodnight. Is that specific enough for you, Mr. Bateman?”

Nathan just looks at you, his eyes for once, void of any emotion to tell you how he’s feeling. Nathan 3 months ago would have stormed away, or said something snarky. But, he just keeps looking at you. The silence makes you uncomfortable and your words replay in your mind over and over, guilt building each time. Your mother’s a tender subject, but Nathan is…more than anyone has ever been to you despite not making that clear to him. You open your mouth to apologize but he shushes, closing his laptop and then yours before he pulls you into his lap and holds you close. 

He kisses at your temple, your forehead, your cheek, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

It shouldn’t catch you off guard, his affection and tenderness but it does. You melt into him even as your walls go up inside. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, honey. It’s not. Can you tell me what—“

“Cancer. Off and on since I was in high school.”

“You’ve been taking care of your sisters off and on since they were born?”

You shrug. It was true. In the moment, when you and your mother had made those decisions together— your father wishing and washing his way in and out of your lives whenever he felt like— they hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But, Nathan’s tone can’t help but make you realize how much you’d missed out on because of your duty to your family.

“Shit, honey.”

“It’s alright, Nathan,” You breathe. It’s not, it’s never been okay, but you’ve been telling yourself that for as long as you can remember. 

“It’s not. You’re a good fucking woman. You and your family deserve better.”

“They do deserve better. My sisters don’t have a time remembering her like I do. Before she got sick. That’s fucked up isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, baby, it is.” His hold on your tightens, a hand smoothing up and down your back. “Let me take you out for one night.”

“Nathan, I just said—“

He takes your jaw into his hands, intentional yet gentle with his grip as he guides you to look at him. Those big brown eyes are warm but firm. “We’ll do it in the city. I’ll pick you up from your apartment, you’ll be a phone call away. I’ll bring you home first thing in the morning. C’mon baby, you deserve a break. Let me give it to you.”

—

You agree to Nathan’s advances, like you always do these days. This date takes a lot of coordinating— but somehow it all turned out in your favor. Nathan jokes that it’s because of his god-like will. You’re just happy to take the breather when it’s presented to you. Emma gets invited to her first sleepover, Phillipa’s school is having a lock in. Somehow, Nathan had convinced you to accept him paying for one day of round the clock care for your mother so her usual nurse, Celia, could have a day off too.

You’re realizing that maybe you’re just as gone for him as he is for you. That you believe what he’s said about the depths of his feelings for you and maybe, you’re ready to take the next step and allow yourself to feel them openly for him too. How quickly the tide turns. How quickly Nathan had put in the effort to show how badly he wanted this— you. 3 months ago you could say with sincere surety that you did not like Nathan Bateman. And now��well you were sure you couldn’t deny loving him. 

He tells you to dress formally— it lands you in your favorite black dress, the one that always gives you a boost of confidence and makes you feel good. You’re going to need if your racing thoughts about how your feelings have deepened are any indicator for how the evening will go. And maybe, once or twice, you’ve imagined Nathan peeling you out of it when your fingers slipped beneath your waistband late at night.

When you open the door, Nathan’s in a crisp white button down and slacks, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders— your knees nearly give out. So do his.

“Fuck me,” He breathes.

“My neighbors can hear you,” You remind him breathlessly, your face hot as his eyes slowly trace your figure. 

“They should be lucky we’re not staying here or they’d hear a hell of a lot more. Fuck. You look incredible, baby.”

“My eyes are up here.”

“I’ve seen enough of those.”

“Nathan.”

“Can you fucking blame me? You walk out here in this tight little dress, one I imagine will stay on until after dinner, which is a fucking sin if you ask me. I’m giving commotion for the dress honey, it is what it is. Come here,” He reaches for you, snaking his arm around your waist so he can kiss you thoroughly. When he breaks the kiss he whispers, “Hi.”

Some of your nerves dissipate at his clear attraction to you, his sweetness. You smile against his mouth, bumping his nose with your own. “Hi. You look so handsome.”

“Thank you,” He murmurs, a smug grin spreading across his face. 

“Patience and good manners, you’re a changed man yet.”

“Does that mean if I ask to feel you up in the limo, you’ll say yes?”

“My neighbors, Nathan,” You remind him sternly, though you’re still smiling. 

“Stuffy old fucks probably need a good show.”

“Walk.”

—

The limo ride to the nearby docks is 40  minutes with the traffic — and he helps you out like a gentleman, guiding you to a moderately sized boat. It’s impressive, all cream and blues, the 

“Nathan, why is there a helicopter next to this boat?”

“In case you need to get home,” He says simply, if that explanation is enough. 

“In case— we got here by limo.”

“You’re a phone call and a 10 minute helicopter ride away from your family.”

How were you gonna make it through dinner without dragging him to the ground so you could ruck up your dress and fuck him? He was saying all of this, doing all of this so nonchalantly, like it isn’t the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

He leans in, mouth and beard tickling your cheek as his whispers teasingly, “This is usually where people say thank you.”

You lean away, giggling a little. Your tone is suggestive, “What if I’m saving my thank you until after dinner?”

“Finally gonna show me some of those methods? It’s been driving me fucking nuts, honey.”

“Depends on how good you are.”

Nathan bites back a moan. This is all so fucking surreal. Being out of his home, being with you. Learning more and more about you, seeing you. Being yours and you being his. It’s more than he could’ve hoped for. He thought he would’ve fucked up by now— and he has, but you held a selfless amount of patience in your heart. He finds himself feeling…grateful? It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one he pushes away from a young age. 

“Don’t be filthy before dinner,” He murmurs lowly.

“You‘ve been eyeing my tits since you picked me up,” You challenge. 

“I’ve been appreciating them, there’s a difference. You ever been on a boat before?”

You eye the boat thoughtfully, “My mom used to take me on the ferry. Does that count?”

Nathan hums. He hasn’t ushered you onto the boat just yet, the two of you standing out on the docks in the salty breeze. It’s nice, being out in the fresh air like this, the water dark as the sun finishes dipping below the horizon. He’d anticipated much more anxiety given his hermit tendencies but it was just you and him and the few staff he’d hired to manage the boat. 

“Do you want to name it?” He blurts out all of a sudden.

“Name what?”

“The boat,” He nods towards the ship. 

You frown, confused. “You haven’t named the boat?”

“I bought it last week.”

“Nathan, did you buy this boat to take me out on a date?”

“Yes I did,” He says with no shame. 

All of that will be an adjustment, the blasé way that he spends money— especially when he spends it on you. You know that he has a fuck ton of it but still; you’ve never lived a life of luxury. 

“Do all employees get this sign-on bonus?” You tease.

“Hush, cheeky girl. Name the boat.”

You grow thoughtful, and that thoughtfulness quickly melts into a melancholic, wistful feeling. You think about your mom. How she’s been swayed back and forth by the tide of life, doing her best to float above it all. It would be nice wouldn’t it, to name something after the woman you love most?

“Boats are named after strong women. So I think…Tiana,” You murmur, voice full of emotion. You clear your throat quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice. 

But Nathan’s obsessed with you— and now that you’ve let him in, he can sense every push and pull. He maneuvers you so that your back is flush with his front. “I like it. Tiana…is that your mother?”

You don’t trust your voice. You simply hum, nodding a little bit as you press back against him. 

He squeezes you tighter, “It’s perfect, baby. Absolutely fucking perfect.

He cups your jaw with one hand, guiding your gaze to his. He’s never seen you nonverbal like this before, never seen sadness in your eyes like this. It makes his chest ache. He guides your mouth to his, kissing you with gentle reverence you never would’ve guessed he was capable of until recently.

Nathan just holds you, letting you melt against him in silence for an undetermined amount of time. His worry grows. “Do you want to call the nurse before we sit down for dinner? Emma? Phillipa?”

Finally, you speak. “No. No, it’s alright. I spend the entire day away from all of them when I’m working for you— I can do this.”

“Just say the word, okay, sweetheart?”

You lean in to give him a soft peck of appreciation, “Yes, I will. Thank you, Nathan.”

Dinner is much more elaborate than it had to be— but this is Nathan you’re talking about, a man with practically the entire world at his fingertips. Of course a 10 course meal makes sense to him. Not that you’re complaining about a personal sized crawl through Italy; breads and antipasto, pastas of all sorts, wines that are perfectly paired, and to end your favorite dessert from the first time the two of you shared a meal together. Despite his underestimating himself and his chaste manner, you think that Nathan is good at romance. He’s great at romance. By the time you’re finishing the last bite, you’re warm and full, a little buzzed and most importantly— needy for him. 

Your entire body is craving his. You’ve denied your desires and his for long enough. You need him, you feel like you might go insane with lust— with love, if you don’t have him. 

“Are we sleeping here?” 

“There’s a suite downstairs, or there’s a hotel nearby I reserved. It’s your call.”

“Here…here is good. Will you take me to bed?” You ask, nonchalantly. 

Nathan chokes on the wine he’s sipping, setting it down to looking at you more intently. “Take you to bed,” He repeats.

“Yes, Nathan, take me to bed,” You practically purr at him this time, voice low and smoky.

Nathan has had  lots of sex in his life, never been flustered or taken aback by anyone. He’s accepted that all of his past experiences go out the window when it comes to you, but he doesn’t expect such a strong reaction out of himself when faced with the opportunity to finally ravish you. He feels like if he stood up right now, his legs would give out like jello. 

The way you’re looking at him— he’s sure no one has ever looked at him like this in his entire life. Carnal and hungry, like when you kissed him breathless in the forest, but more intense. It’s almost overwhelming. He’s never been consumed before, and that’s exactly how you’re looking at him. Like you’re going to swallow him whole. His cock twitches and he takes a deep breath.

“Come here,” He says softly, pushing away from the table and holding his hand out for you.

You stand, moving closer to him but don’t take his hand. “If I touch you…if we start here, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

Nathan feels winded. He squeezes his eyes shut, and nods. “Fuck, honey, alright. Follow me.”

Nathan guides you through the dining room and down a hall, not even bothering to mention what doors the two of you pass. His heart is pounding in his chest— he’s ready for this, been ready for so long and he wants this to mean something. He had been ready to wait as long as you needed in order for this moment to be everything it can be. 

The suite he takes you to is larger than you anticipated it to be, but you can’t bring yourself to care. As soon as Nathan shuts the door behind you, you practically launch yourself at him, your hands starting at where his shirt is tucked into his pants. You ruck it up, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Whoa, mmm,” He hums into your mouth. His hands finally fall to cup your ass, kneading and squeezing the way he’s wanted to for hours now. “You been this desperate the whole time?”

“Have you?” You counter as you press him against the door, grinding your hips against his. You can feel him through the fabric of his trousers, and it makes your mouth water. 

“Fuck, baby, lemme get you on the bed at least,” He breathes when he feels the way your hips rut.

You pull away, looking at him with bright but hazy eyes— like he’s just come up with some revolutionary idea. “The bed, right. Come here.”

You start to walk backwards, guiding him with you by his shirt. Once the back of your thighs hit the bed, you switch positions with him, encouraging him to sit down so that you can straddle him. Nathan feels weightless— this is like his dream come true. Just a couple months ago he was jerking himself off imagining a sight like this, and now he was living it. 

Looking up at you, he feels warm. Fuzzy. Like he’s in the safest place he’ll ever be in. With his limited data and hope, trust— things he’s never had with anyone— he knows that he is. This is all he’ll ever need. You’re all he’ll ever need. He loves you so much it hurts. 

“Baby,” He sighs, guiding your mouth down to his. Where your mouth is hurried and insistent, his is lazy and indulgent. He wants to savor every moment.

“Hmm,” You hum grinding down against his clothed cock in a move that makes both of you moan. 

“I fucking love you.”

You lean away, eyes wide with alarm. Part of you, most of you, thought that to be true. Well— whatever he was capable of feeling that was close to love. He’s proved himself to you. All of his intentions, his actions, his words— no matter how haphazard he’s been in communicating them— have been pure. While just a few months ago you were sure Nathan could love no one but himself, you’re sure now that he’s being completely honest. It sends you further into your frenzy. He loves you. 

Nathan Bateman fucking loves you. 

You’re quiet for so long that he feels antsy. There’s no regret, no anger in his heart like he thought there could be when first pursuing you. But he is starting to feel small, like a nuisance like his parents made him feel all those years ago. 

“Really?” You ask breathlessly, unsure if it’s from his declaration or your body’s response to being pressed against him like this. 

He scoffs, squeezing your hips, “Really? You think I fucking—“

“Okay, alright, I love you too.”

“Really?”

You fix him with narrowed eyes. Of course you get scolded but he gets to do the exact same thing as you. It’s very Nathan. It makes you love him more. 

“Nathan.”

“My really is fucking justified, I’m some asshole, you’re…you’re the moon. The sun. The sky. I’m not good at this poetic shit but I mean it.”

“You’re the sweetest, most thoughtful, insightful and just— kind. I know what you’re thinking, I know that something or someone’s taught you not to think that you’re kind and worthy but you are. Even if you’re an asshole and a clown, you are. And I love you.”

“We’re fucking corny and sickly sweet and so cliche. I could vomit,” He says, his grin wide and genuine. 

You nuzzle into him, laughing softly at the tickle of his beard, “You would study it, see if it quantified any of your love for me.”

“So you think I’m disgusting,” He murmurs, using his grip on you to rock your hips down against his cock. 

The pressure is sweet, and you shiver even as you try to get your voice even. “Am I wrong?”

He laughs a little, eyes fluttering when you help him rock you down even further, “No.”

You reach up to remove his glasses, bending to set them on the side of the bed— you didn’t want to break them, now with how you were about to ravish him. “Kiss me, Nathan.”

Usually, he needs to be told things once, twice, and again but this request Nathan obeys immediately. His hands start to travel up your body, fingers sliding under the fabric of your dress to expose inch after inch of your precious skin. His eyes are closed as he bares you to him, pulling down the cups of your bra so your breasts spill out, but he can feel how beautiful you are under his fingertips. Smooth and soft, fitting perfectly in his grasp.  Every touch, every kiss is electric. His hands skate up your stomach, cupping your breasts before he takes your nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good. So good,” He mumbles into your mouth, his fingers still working, eager to hear the soft little sound you made.

You melt into him, nodding frantically as you continue to sip from his mouth. “You too.”

Nathan breaks away from your mouth, biting and kissing his way down your neck, sucking a faint mark into your skin. More. He wants more of you, and you more of him. He kisses a trail between your breasts before leaning in, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth. You taste so fucking good. Like honey and cocoa, so delicious. Not for the first time, Nathan thinks about how much he wants to consume you. Or be consumed. He can’t choose, his head is spinning and he’s getting more frantic, shaking beneath you as he sucks and nips at you. 

You can feel yourself getting lost in him, but this isn’t what you’ve thought about all these months. He feels incredible, his mouth is warm, his hands sure. The pleasure that’s blooming all over your body is one you'll never give up. But, no, for all these months, you’ve thought about turning him into a whining, shivering mess. You’ve thought about making him cum over and over until he can think of nothing but you. 

You lean away, cupping your face in your hands,  “Wait— please, let me touch you. I get off all the time, but I haven’t touched a man in so long. I wanna see you.”

“Honey—“

Your hands fall, gripping his shirt and ripping at it. Buttons scatter as you work him out of the shirt, leaning in to coax his mouth open for you once more.  “Let me make you cum. Please, I need it.”

“That’s what you want?” He asks skeptically.

“Yeah, and you’d give me anything, wouldn't you? You ask, tilting your head at him expectantly.

“I’d give you anything,” He confirms.

You slid out of his lap, reaching behind to unclasp your bra and discard it. It leaves you in nothing but black lace panties. “Then take your pants off.”

All Nathan can do for several moments is stare at you, his mouth agape, ready to drool. He could believe he’s died and gone to heaven, except he doesn’t believe such a place exists. And if he did, he would not end up in a place where he would be so privileged to be met with the sight of you. You're an angel in the most sinful way.

“Nathan,” You coo when he doesn’t move, a soft grin on your face.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, a soft blush rising in his cheeks. 

It’s adorable, it makes the heat in your lower belly burn brighter. You can feel yourself getting wetter for him by the second. “I thought about you like this so much.”

“Could've fooled me,” He heaves, trying to seem less affected than he is. That boat sailed the moment you asked him to take you to bed. 

You laugh softly at his words, dropping to your knees and resting your hands on his broad thighs.  “Don’t be snarky, baby, just let me make us feel good. You want that don’t you?”

Nathan shivers, even as your warm, honeyed voice glides across his skin. God he knew you’d be like this, knew he’d bend to your will so easily but to hear it and feel it. “I do,” He sighs, allowing you to guide him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Your eyes are dark with hunger, and you lick your lips a little as you look up at him. “God, your cock’s so fucking pretty. Can I put my mouth on you?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” He whispers earnestly.

You aren’t gentle or patient or thoughtful about letting him adjust. You take Nathan’s cock completely, so deep that he feels like he’s starting to enter your stomach. It takes everything in him to keep his hips down, a will that crumbles when you swallow, your throat tightening around him. The sound you make is a cross between a gag and a satisfied hum. You pull off without missing a beat, spitting on the tip of his cock and lifting a hand to grip and pump him.

“Mmm, shit, that’s really…that’s really fucking—“ Nathan babbles incoherently, words cutting off. 

You start in on him again, your head bobbing up and down as you take him over and over again. The noises he’s making have you squeezing your thighs together. Soft and breathy and so so sweet. You peer up at him wanting to see how he looks. The flush in his cheeks is deeper and redder, his eyes somehow sharp and hazy all at once. Seeing him so vulnerable, gooey and nearing the peak of pleasure you don’t stop, sucking harder, allowing the tip of his cock to go deeper.

One of his hands falls to your shoulders, gripping it gently, “Wait— wait— fuck, hold on baby, just,”

Carefully, you pull off of him, wiping at the trail of spit that connects your mouth to his cock. You look up at him with those sweet little eyes, like you haven’t nearly sucked what little of a soul lies within him. “Hmm?”

“Wanna cum inside you, please.”

“This is you cumming inside me,” You challenge, kissing at the head of his cock.

“Inside your pussy,” He gasps, the vein that trails down the center of his forehead on display as he fights to stay still—as he holds back.

You rest your head on his thigh, looking up at him like he’s hung the moon. The sight alone almost makes him cum. 

“Say, please,” You whisper.

“Please, sweetheart.”

“You’re so good, do you know that?” You ask him softly, reaching up to cup his face. 

“Good?” He asks with a furrowed brow. The word directed at himself feels clumsy in his mouth. 

“Good,” You repeat as confirmation. “So good that you’re gonna lay back against those pillows without another word aren’t you?”

Processing your words, he simply nods, helping you to your feet before he scoots back, propped up against the pillows, looking so devilishly handsome. If you stared at him long enough, you’re sure you could cum from just this sight. But why torture yourself like that, when you’re this close to having him buried inside you? Body humming with anticipation you crawl up the bed, straddling him once more. 

“Do you want to feel how wet I am?” 

“Yes,” He answers quickly before tacking on, “please.” 

That sentence alone shows just how much Nathan Bateman is a changed man. Please without being promoted? Atop apologies and vulnerability and love confessions. 

You hold your panties to the side for him, “Go on then. Touch me, baby.”

Nathan’s eyes track to where your pussy runs along his cock, burning hot. He reaches for you, letting his fingers sweat through your folds, causing both of you to moan. You’re so fucking wet, dripping, glistening in the warm lamplight. 

“For me?” He asks, voice and hands trembling as he finds your clit, pressing his thumb against it.

“For you. Because you’re so fucking good for me. Good to me.”

Every fucking word out of your mouth pulls his closer to his release. He needs to be inside you, he can feel the clock ticking. “Can I fuck you now, honey? Please, I need to feel you.”

“Who knew Nathan Bateman would beg?”

“On my knees for the rest of my fucking life, baby.”

You can picture it, except in your dreams, Nathan’s beard is shining with your slick. Your breath catches, and you grow too needy to continue teasing him. It takes you just a few seconds to line him up with your entrance, giving neither of you time to adjust as you sink down on him completely. His back arches, huffing a heavy, labored breath. He’s sweating, he can feel it, his skin slick underneath your fingertips as your pussy grips him so deliciously tight. You’re dripping down his cock already.

“Fuck, honey—,” He laughs, squeezing at your hip, nearly pushing you off to hold on. “Fuck me, you couldn’t have— warned a guy?”

“Sorry,” You breathe, grinning down at him, “needed to fuck you.”

Nathan’s eyes roll as you rock your hips, completely breathless, “Shit—your pussy’s so fucking tight. So hot, you been saving this all for me?”

You bend, your nose resting against his as you gaze into him, “Savor it— don’t think. Don’t control. Just enjoy it, Nathan. Be with me. Give in to me. Say yes.”

“Yes,” He slurs, drawn out and drunk on you. 

You guide his hands to either side of his head, holding them down by his wrists as you start to move, your pussy taking his cock the way your throat had with even more ease. The two of you fit together so perfectly, your cunt swallowing his entire length over and over, pleasure mounting higher and higher inside you. Nathan’s winning the fight against his body now. He’s happy to submit to you, it feels so good, so perfectly sweet, like he was made to be underneath you like this. But his body screams for release, to roll you over and fuck you hard until you squeeze his cock so tight there’s no choice in his cumming.  

“Wanna cum…wanna cum in your pussy,” He whines, his hips lazily rocking up to meet yours. 

“You will baby, I’ll let you fill me up,” You assure him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, teasing yourself and him for a moment as you close your eyes and let yourself really feel every single inch of him.

Nathan’s lips are parted slightly, pink and flushed, soft gasps leaving him as your hips grind down against his. You remove one of your hands from his wrists, leaning back so you have room to run your thumb over the swell of his bottom lip.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” He says, his words syrupy, “feels good. So good.”

“Let me in there,” You murmur, tapping two of your  fingers against his lips, and he opens wide immediately. You purposefully clench your cunt around him, a small reward for his obedience and he groans, his back arching as pleasure burns in his veins. 

“I’m gonna soak your cock,” You tell him matter of factly.

Nathan’s eyes go wide, his chest rising fast as his lungs beg for air. No matter what he does its not enough. He’s drowning in you, there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s nothing he really wants to do about it. “Soak my—“

“Nice and wet, all over you. Gonna make us messier,” You whisper, like the sound of his cock gliding in and out of you isn’t already obscene. “You want that don’t you, Nathan?”

He doesn’t have words, just soft, needy sounds. Pleading round eyes. Shallow, noisy breaths. It’s all the answer you need.

“I know, baby. I know. Cum whenever you need to, I’ll make it,” The gentle tone of your voice doesn’t match the devious look in your eyes. 

You know exactly what you’re doing. You know his cock aches with the need to release, know he’s fighting this because he never wants this to end. Know that he’s never been this deep in subspace in his life, that he’ll obey any command you give him.

You shift up on your knees, until you’re taking nothing but the tip, and then rock back, taking him as deep as you can. Bending to your will, Nathan cums with a sound that can only be described as sweet agony. 

As he fills you up, your hips slip into a grind, pressing and pressing the tip of his cock against the sensitive spot inside you. You can feel it coming now, you know just how to twist your hips, just how long to rub at your clit to make it happen. Your thighs grow tight, your cunt clenching as it starts to milk him for everything he’s got. You gush around him, the sound so wet and filthy that Nathan thinks he might cum again. Your slick is everywhere; your thighs, your stomach and all over Nathan, his lower belly glistening with you. He looks down and groans again, need rising sharply in his chest. He wants to taste you. 

“Let me taste you, please. Drown me,” He begs, one of his hands shakily reaching for where the two of you connect.

Your hands fall to the pillows on either side of his head, propping you up from where you’d since collapsed onto him. “Nathan, baby, you’re tired—“

But, Nathan is desperate— as desperate as you were when you asked him to take you to bed, you can hear it in his voice as he pleads, “Sit on my face. Please, please, please, baby. Fucking, please. Let me eat your pussy.”

Your lost to him and his begging. With the little strength you have left, you shuffle up, getting you thighs on either side of his head, gently lowering yourself down through the burn of your muscles. Nathan has another idea, weakly reaching for you and effectively smothering himself in your pussy. Its messy, the sounds of his mouth as he licks and sucks at your clit like a starved man. Like you two hadn’t just stuffed yourselves full at dinner. 

“Nathan,” You mumble, trying to steady yourself by leaning against the headboard. His beard tickles against your thighs, but makes the work of his mouth even better, brushing each and every bit of your sensitive pussy.

Despite your plea, Nathan is insatiable, pulling you down by his grip on your ass. He’s gasping and whining into your cunt, like it's all too much and too little at the same time. He can hardly breathe with how firmly he’s got you pressed against his face, though he wouldn’t change his position for the world. He would happily die here if it was what you wanted.

He can feel your thighs shaking against the sides of his head and knows that you’re close to cumming. Doubling his efforts, Nathan switches from running his tongue through your folds to focusing solely on your clit, circling and circling in a maddening technique. When you fall apart on his tongue, he presses his tongue inside of you, eager to drink up every single drop of your sweet honey. 

He feels like he’s cumming again, his cock jerking behind you though there’s nothing for him to release. He feels like he’s been split right open, all of his tender, vulnerable spots on display.

It takes several minutes for Nathan to come back to himself once you shift off of his face, laying your body against his. He’s gasping for air with tightly shut eyes, his entire body shaking. You run a hand up and down his chest, cooing soft praises as you try to soothe him. 

He stares at the ceiling, steadying his breaths. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re the filthiest person I’ve ever met.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, admiring the shine of his beard that’s completely covered in you. A mark that he’s yours. “Thank you.”

The grin on your face— you’re trying to fucking kill him. How many times has he thought since he’s started this endeavor of winning your heart and why is it not over now that he has? Your grin is smug, full of fire, the fire he’s wanted from the moment he laid his eyes on you. He loves you so fucking much. If this is what he gets, he’ll be better for the rest of his life. He’ll move to the city, do the house in the crowded suburbs with the picket fence, get married. Have kids, and attend the most boring PTA meetings that plan bake sales. Bake sales where he’d have to make cookies— real cookies, not the ones with coconut sugar and almond flour, and low sugar chocolate. If it was what you wanted he’d do it all. Any of it at the drop of a hat.

“What are you thinking about?” You trace small shapes on his chest, enjoying the post-coital cuddle. 

“You.”

“What about me?”

“That you’re everything,” He says easily. It’s nice— the reservations, the anxiety that he had about all of this has faded in the shadows. 

With you, Nathan gets to be completely honest, knowing that he’s safe. None of what his parents said was true. He’s not unlovable. He’s not selfish. He isn’t just a fuck up that can never amount to anyone’s expectations. Despite his mistakes, he’s allowed to be loved. 

“Remember when I was just your employee?” You ask teasingly, snuggling further into him.

“Fuck, I was an idiot for months. Best thing I’ve ever had, dangling in front of me in plain sight.”

“Not Bluebook?”

“No.”

“Or buying that property?”

“No.”

“The money?”

“No.”

“Your freedom?”

He snorts, “My freedom?”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted to you,” You remind him. 

“And I fucking meant it.”

“It doesn’t sound very…freeing. Very Nathan,” You muse softly. 

Nathan’s quiet for a long time— so long that you grow nervous, afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to sit up to apologize, he wraps his arms around you, dropping a kiss on your forehead, “This, sweetheart, is the freest I’ve ever been in my life.” 

Fin

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho

[cloudcountry]

flaming & flustered

Genre/Tropes: Mutual pining AGAIN SIGH don't lie I know all of you love this. Unestablished relationship.

Summary: Your shitty laptop from Crowley stopped working, so you called the smartest person you know to fix it.

Author's Comments: Idia's hair turning pink when he's embarrassed is everything. Also Idia literally RUNS from you LMAO

~~~~~

“Idia, help! You’re the only one I can count on! My shitty laptop from Crowley stopped working and I need to do my assignments before tomorrow!”

Idia couldn’t help but leave his dorm just this once for you, pulling his hood over his head as he ignored the gawking stares of other students. Of course they would stare at him, he never left his room and yet he was leaving for a magicless Prefect that probably didn’t even care about him as much as he cared about them. But that was fine! He didn’t care! I mean, of course you called him, technology was the one thing he was good at and if you called anyone else to help you with it that would mean you doubted his genius and that he would once again be second choice because of course you wouldn’t want to see him-

“Idia!” you cheered, throwing the front door to Ramshackle open the second he stepped onto the front porch, “Oh, thank you so much for coming! You’re a lifesaver!”

He squeaked, face aflame as his hair turned pink. You didn’t comment on his flustered appearance, already leading him inside.

He was inside Ramshackle! He was going to die!

“Seriously, no one else is as good at technology than you. I’d be in your debt big time if you fix this for me. Please? I swear I’ll pay you back!” you pleaded, as if he hadn’t already agreed to help you out.

“It’s fine! Just let me work.” he huffed, eyes darting away from your puppy dog expression, “And I don’t need anything, okay? I just want to get back to my dorm...”

“You’re the best!” you cheered,  patting the seat next to you on the couch, “Come on, take a seat! I don’t bite.”

He flushed again, awkwardly sitting down next to you. He took the laptop in his hands and silently thanked you when you didn’t watch him work, opting to scroll through your Magicam feed. Eventually he was able to tune out your presence entirely, hyper focused on running updates on your laptop and checking out the software. Humming thoughtfully to him, he chewed on his bottom lip as he rebooted your machine. Hoping that would fix the problem so he could just go back to his room and play games, he nudged you gently.

“I fixed it.” he mumbled, placing the laptop in your lap.

You had the same look on your face that Ortho did when he wanted to give Idia a hug, but you didn’t make any sudden moves towards him. His heart fluttered at the show of respect for his boundaries as your laptop screen turned on, the background illuminating the screen.

“I know I keep saying this, but seriously. Thank you so much. You’re so smart.” you beamed, setting the laptop aside as you stared adoringly at him.

Idia felt the puff of smoke that came off of his head at your words, face turning bright red.

“It’s...It’s nothing!” he squeaked, jolting up from the couch, “Just-! Um-!”

“Idia?” you said, staring up at him with that smile on your face, “I can stop by the Board Game Club and play something with you, if you’d like.”

Why were you still trying to pay him back!?

“Um, yeah. That’d be fine!” he yelped, scurrying towards the door, “I’m gonna go now!”

“Okay! See ya, Idia! Thank you!” you called, the giggle that left your lips almost making the poor boy trip down the steps as he booked it back to his dorm.

[drvscarlett]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

Pierre Gasly x ex!reader

Summary: The 4 times that they break up and get back together and that 1 time they didn't.

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: im on a roll with updating the Tortured Drivers Department now that im nearly done with every reqs. I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think or feel about this

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"

Pierre and Y/N are the type of people that is confusing to talk about. No one really knows the big deal between the two of them, are they friends or are they lovers? One minute everything is all good, they are about to go to the store and pick out rings then the next thing that you know they already broke up. What was constant was that they always find their way back to each other.

Maybe it’s the lifestyle that makes it work; Pierre is a famous F1 driver that travels the world most of the year while Y/N is a grand recluse of a writer that is trying to find her way to the market. They don’t need much time from each other, and they understand the busy structure of their work.

Maybe its also the fact that they have years of friendship backing them up that's why they were able to last long with each others antics. So, what happened to them?

I.

The first kind of break ups were pretty silly. It was usually something that could be fixed in a matter of hours or a day being away from each other. Its something very random and weird like this.

"Wait, so you are breaking up with me because you are writing?"Pierre was confused.

Pierre had been in relationships before but he has never once heard of someone wanting to break up with him because she has to meet a certain deadline.

He felt very whiplash by the whole situation because she was just kissing him and they were cuddling in bed in the morning. Now she wants to break up with him.

"Yes Pierre, I need to be in my most heartbroken self to write my best lines"Y/N confirms.

"So does this mean that once you finish this thing you are working on then we can get back together?"Pierre clarifies.

Y/N nods as she brings out her working laptop and a notebook.

"So should I say something mean or should I just leave you be to your senses?"Pierre wondered.

"Do you really wanna break up with me so badly?"Y/N had too much of Pierre's question

Pierre raised his hands in defeat.

"Okay then lets break up"

Pierre headed straight back to his room to allow Y/N to work on her things. He chuckles at himself with the weird antics of his girlfriend, (or should he say ex girlfriend) but he busies himself with some emails that he has from work.

It took Y/N two days before she comes crawling to their shared bed. Pierre was in a sleepy state when Y/N snuggled to his arms.

"Are you done?"Pierre wondered.

"Yeah,just passed my manuscript"Y/N agrees.

"Can I call you my girlfriend again?"

II.

Qualifying was extremely difficult today with Pierre taking p15. To make matters worse there was this pressing issue that Pierre might be axed from the team. It honestly frustrated him to the point that he was only doing sim work, training, and more training.

It worries Y/N a great deal especially when Pierre seems so out of it.

"Pierre c'mon get some rest" Y/N begged.

It was already 2 in the morning and there was still a race tomorrow but he insisted on hitting the gyms to train.

"You are going to be exhausted later during the race if you keep doing this"Y/N reminds.

"I don't care, I have to work hard"

"Pierre please listen to me"

"You're the one who is not listening to me"Pierre snaps "Don't you realize that I have the possibility to lose everything that I have worked hard for if they cut me off the team."

Y/N was in shock with the sudden outburst and if Pierre was in his usual self then he would have immediately apologized for raising his tone. But Pierre was far from thinking clearly.

"Pierre that was not nice"

"Nothing is ever nice in this world"scoffs Pierre.

"Look I'm just trying to help you he-"

"You know what, why not just break up with me so I can focus on my thing without anyone nagging" Pierre suggested.

She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and threatening to fall. But her mother did not raise her cry over a stupid boy like this.

"You're really going there huh" Y/N said "See if I care"

With a slam of the door, Y/N was gone and Pierre felt even more antsy than ever. It wasn't the fact that he has a messed up weekend but he has the possibility of messing up a good relationship because of his blind rage.

In a couple of hours despite Y/N implying that she didn't care, she was at the race patiently waiting for the lights to go out. It was difficult for her to just leave Pierre especially when he is in this state of mind.

But of course, Y/N's pride was something that she holds dear that is why she didn't show up to Pierre's garage. It is kind of weird to see the crowd of yellow and black colors but Y/N was so glad that she has Isa by her side to join her during the race.

"Never gets easier to let him go for races huh"Y/N comments as she watched Isa putting on Carlos' helmet.

"Well, I'm sure he tries his best to be careful on the track" Isa smiled.

"Why aren't you giving any pre-race goodluck kisses to Pierre? He might need it" Carlos suggested.

Y/N could just roll her eyes, Pierre wasn't superstitious like that.

"Okay laugh all you want but don't make me say I told you so if he gets involved in an accident"Carlos warns.

"Don't mind Carlos, he is just joking"Isa shrugs it off.

"But Isa, its true remember when-"

"Stop stressing Y/N out Carlos, go race and be safe"

"Aye aye"

Y/N watched the playful interaction before the couple parted ways. The scene struck a chord in her heart because she knew that she could never act that way with Pierre. Their whole relationship was a secret that only the grid knows Y/N is off limits. But outside the grid, no one knows about it. Fans equate them as close friends but never more than that.

"What's on your mind honey?"Isa asked

"Nothing Isa, I'm okay"

Y/N showed a weak smile and Isa was hesitant to press things but she just let friend be.

"Look the race is starting"Y/N diverts.

The sound of the engines filled the air and off the cars go. Y/N watched as everyone gets off with a decent start, she could only hope that there was no incident today especially for Pierre's sake.

Everything happened all of a sudden as white smoke filled the air and a loud collision was heard. The cameras were quick to pan to the accident and the two girls clutched each other's hands as the smoke clears.

"It's Nico, its not Carlos" someone from the garage reassured Isa and the girl could feel a sigh of relief.

However, the same cannot be said to Y/N as the frustrated team radio of Pierre can be heard and the familiar livery was seen in the middle of the wreck.

Any amount of pride or memory of what he said last night was suddenly thrown out of the window. She just wants to know how he is or if he is safe from that tragic collision.

"Y/N, they're going to check on Nico" Isa pointed out to some Renault people "You should probably go since Pierre would be there too"

Y/N was about to deny that she didn't want to see him but Isa had a stern look on her face.

"Just go honey"

And she comes running to the medical bay to look for the injured man. She was a bit thankful that precautions have been made in this sports that allowed drivers to walk away from such accident without major damages.

Maybe, a bruised ego is their biggest worry now.

"Y/N"Pierre was confused to see her.

Maybe the damage has been far more worse than he imagined because he was now seeing things. As far as he could recall, Y/N was not around when the race started. So how is she here?

"God, you scared me P"Y/N wrapped him in a hug.

Pierre was a little bit sore from the crash but there was this instant warm feeling knowing that Y/N didn't abandon him. Even if he was really moody and too shitty, Y/N was still there for him.

He remembers how terrible it was being in that car and thinking that the last memory he shared with Y/N is a bad one. He didn't feel great at all so he held her as if its his second chance.

"I didn't mean what I said last night"Pierre whispered "I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings. I wasn't thinking straight and there is just a lot of pressure-"

"It's okay, I know Pierre"Y/N consoles "I won't be leaving you anytime soon"

A chaste kiss was shared between the two of them, a symbol that they have reunited once more.

III.

The third time they broke up was when Pierre asked her hand for marriage and she didn't say anything.

After being constantly invited to weddings, Pierre is bound to pick up some courage to ask Y/N out. He developed this dream that he wants a life with Y/N and he is ready to take it to the next level. Knowing Y/N, he picked the right size and the perfect ring. He also knows her dream proposal place which is somewhere with a view of the city.

He had everything planned out perfectly so imagine his surprise when she answers.

"Pierre, I can't do this" Y/N dropped the bomb.

"What? Why?"

Y/N felt like an extreme asshole because everything was perfect. Any girl would say yes to this prime opportunity of marrying their childhood bestfriend but Y/N sees through things.

"Pierre we aren't even official to the public and now you want to escalate it to marriage" Y/N reasons.

"So that's it, you don't want to marry me because I can't call you mine in public?"

"It's not just that" Y/N sighs "but our careers are just taking off and we haven't talked about our relationship yet and suddenly were going to go to marriage"

What Y/N saying was valid but Pierre was not listening to any of it. He felt very crushed and he could not think straight at the moment.

"Let's just break up if you can't see a future with me"

"Pierre, you know that's not what I meant"

"Then tell me how would you feel if the person you truly loved didn't want to marry you"Pierre roared.

It was a devastating scene between the two of them. How Y/N wished that she could undo what she said a few minutes ago but she knows that she only means well. A rushed marriage will also lead to rush separation and she will not put herself to that.

"Let's break up then, I think its best if we go our seperate ways for the time being"Pierre concludes.

It took them three long weeks before they got back together. It was due to an intervention by Charles that allowed them to speak again and talk their differences. Pierre has been more understanding now and heard Y/N's point out.

They got back together but it felt like there is a huge crack that took a heavy blow with their relationship.

IV.

Y/N had a terrible day at work with her manuscript being asked to be revised by her publisher. All she needs was a good rest and possibly some cuddles with Pierre. She prays as she twist the doorknob that Pierre was not in his one of his moods.

"Mon amour"Pierre called out "I was waiting for you"

Pierre can cook but it doesn't mean that he does it often. It was a good surprise for Y/N to see the dinner table set with all of her favorite dishes and an array of fresh flowers in a bouquet. She eyes the man warily as she takes a seat

"I didn't miss any important dates, didn't I?" Y/N asked.

"Is it bad that I wanted to do something special for you?"

In other days, she would want to argue about it but for today she didn't want to do any of that. She had no energy to question Pierre's weird behavior and she just wants to enjoy the dinner with him.

It was a lovely dinner but Y/N knows that Pierre was hiding something from her. As she was putting away the plates, she knew that she had to get an answer or she may fall asleep overthinking things.

"What is going on P, I'm actually scared you did something stupid that's why you are buttering me up so much"

Pierre lets out a heavy sigh, they knew each other too well that they can't really keep a secret with each other.

"My PR talked to me today and they wanted to announce a relationship to help my whole image"Pierre confesses.

Articles are very easy to miss but as a writer, Y/N knows how a different usage of an article changes the meaning of the sentence. Pierre used "a" rather than "the" which means he is not referring to their relationship.

"Who is it?"Y/N wondered

"She's a model, her name is Caterina" Pierre explained.

There was a heavy silence in the room as Y/N dried out the dishes. She knew that this was all because she was not very marketable due to her timid personality. She was not even famous for her books so that's another reason. Bottom line, they can't announce her because she seems very different from Pierre and she is not the WAG material.

"How long?"

Y/N was used to this kind of treatment. She felt like she accepted this as long as she can get to keep Pierre at the end of this whole thing. People would think she is crazy but love makes people do crazy things.

"Just 6 months and its over"Pierre answered.

It was also very difficult for Pierre's end. He have tried to lobby that he wanted to announce his relationship with Y/N but he is held by a contract. If he decides to deviate then he might lose his seat.

He knows how difficult it was to ask her for this but he had no choice.

"I'll get packing then and I'll move out in the next few days"Y/N mumbles.

Pierre stopped her for leaving and held her tightly. She instantly melts in his hold and she easily reminds herself why she puts up with all of this.

"I love you, don't you forget that"

The world moved with Caterina being announced as Pierre's girlfriend. However, they didn't know that after 6 months then Pierre is back to Y/N's arms. It was always Y/N and Pierre even if the world can't see it.

V.

It started with a normal dinner reservation.

Y/N has been promised by Pierre that he will take her out for dinner. They both understand that the past few weeks has been tiring for the two of them with the stress of racing, writing, and personal issues. The dinner is a nice way to reconnect with each other.

However, here she was already an hour waiting for Pierre to show up.

The hour goes from two to three and by the fourth hour, she decided that she will just go home. She have felt upset with Pierre before but this was a different kind of upset. It's not something to be fixed by flowers, vacations, or any of those stupid letters he does.

She reaches their shared apartment and started packing her stuffs. Her mind was already made up and this time it was going to last. The relationship was doomed to failure anyways.

And just before she finished packing, Pierre stumbles in.

"Y/N, do you have a schedule tonight?"Pierre asked.

He was met with silence as the writer ignores him.

"Oh c'mon what did I do wrong this time?"Pierre complains "Sit and talk with me Y/N"

Pierre could only stop Y/N by bringing all her packed clothes out of her suitcase. Something that heavily irritated Y/N, which caused her to finally speak.

"Can you just let me pack in peace"Y/N begged.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong"Pierre stops "Do you have a flight somewhere? Maybe I could drive you"

"You don't have to drive me Pierre"

"Then what's going on, I arrive here and you are fuming there-"

"You made me fucking wait four hours"Y/N snapped.

Pierre racked his brains for anything that he missed and he suddenly remembered how he reserved dinner with her. He felt like all the color drained on his face.

"Don't do this, I'll make it up to you Y/N" there was a desperation in Pierre's voice.

"I can't, we can't keep doing this P"Y/N admits it "We keep on breaking up and then making up then we act like this is a healthy relationship. We can't do this"

Strong arms wrapped around Y/N's waist and she could feel the wetness on her shoulders as Pierre buried his face there. It was proving more and more difficult for Y/N to leave him.

"I have to do this P, for you and for me"she remains firm.

"Tell me you don't love me"Pierre refuses to let go.

And Y/N cannot admit that because she knows she will always love Pierre. But she was scared that in loving Pierre so much then she may not have any love left for herself. She doesn't know what to do if she loses Pierre so its best if she will be the one to let go of him first.

"I'm sorry Pierre"

With a heavy heart, she removes the him away from her. She picks up her bags and closes the door. She left without taking a look back at the man she has loved from childhood till now because she knows that the moment she sees him then all form of control she has will evaporate.

And everything was two years ago. Here is Y/N with her third best-selling novel book signing tour. Sometimes she likes to think that she lost Pierre to be able to write the books that made her extremely famous. Most of the times, she wishes it never happened because she would rather have Pierre than these best selling novels.

It was her first time in Europe for work. She was often here to watch and support Pierre from the sideline. She never thought that she will be back in Europe so loved and so adored.

But it seems like destiny has a way of messing things up.

"Hi! What's your name?"she greets the woman in front of her.

Even though it has been a long day, she managed to master the art of keeping a perfect smile. She understands how the fans have been waiting in line for so long and she has to give them the best experience as she signs their book.

"My name is Kika, I'm a huge fan of yours" the woman introduced.

Y/N looked up to take a look at her. Kika had a dazzling smile and has this certain aura that exudes her charmingness. Y/N felt that she should be the one asking for Kika's signature because she looks like a stunning goddess.

"I really love the way you write things and I used to read it with my boyfriend when he is not racing"Kika narrates.

Racing, its been a while since Y/N heard that. She completely cuts off that certain topic ever since she left Pierre.

"Oh that sounds like a fantastic way to bond as a couple"Y/N agrees

"Yeah and actually my boyfriend told me that he knows you. I was actually wondering if he is joking but I figured that maybe he is"

There was this sinking feeling in her heart but Y/N would like to think that she made some friends in the F1 grid so this may be their girlfriend. Or maybe her boyfriend is bluffing.

"He races? In what kind of race"Y/N asked,she was careful.

"Oh he does Formula 1, his name is-"

"Kika mon amour"

Y/N didn't have to hear the voice twice to know who that voice belongs to. She knows that voice very well and she couldn't believe her rotten luck.

"Pierre, we were just talking about you"Kika embraces Pierre.

Pierre was shifting nervously and Y/N suddenly realized that Kika doesn't know anything about the shared history between the two of them.

"Oh so you are Pierre's new girl" Y/N knew how to act "I'm so pleased to meet you and yes I know Pierre from childhood"

"See mon amour, I was not lying"Pierre teased.

"So you do know her, we should definitely set up a lunch or dinner together"Kika exclaimed "I can't believe that my favorite author is your childhood friend"

She has that bright and genuine smile on her face. It was that certain genuineness that Y/N makes her heart crack. Why did she have to be so sweet and kind, its so difficult to fault her of anything.

"Y/N is one of the best authors, I know" Pierre proudly states "She has a way of tugging hearts"

"Indeed she has, I remember that when I first started reading one of your series I was so hooked and I wanted to pattern my dream partner to how you write the character of.."Kika babbles.

And everything felt like fading in the background. But Y/N didn't miss how Pierre was looking at Kika so lovingly and so endearing while Kika was rambling excitedly. The heart that was once healed was getting torn up once more because of what's happening in front of her.

[laviefantasie]

Video 5

| series masterlist |

You’ve never been good at lying. Or, more specifically, you’ve never been good at lying to him. Satoru Gojo is practically a human lie detector, and unfortunately for you, that makes planning his surprise birthday party a Herculean task.

“This is ridiculous” you mutter into your camera, recording yourself while crouched behind a stack of file cabinets in the staff lounge, “It’s like he has a sixth sense for people talking about him. We’ve barely started, and he’s already suspicious!”

Shoko’s voice crackles, her tone flat as always, “That’s because you’re terrible at keeping secrets. Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even trying”

“Because it’s for Gojo!” you hiss, “He’d never expect it, and—”

You hear footsteps. Light, purposeful. Immediately, you slap your videocamera against your chest to muffle the recording and freeze.

“Are you talking about me again?” Satoru’s unmistakable voice rings out, smug and teasing.

“No” you reply too quickly, shoving your camera behind your back, “What are you doing here?”

Satoru leans against the doorway, his sunglasses glinting under the fluorescent lights. His smirk is as insufferable as ever.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought I heard someone whispering my name”

You make a show of looking at your sides in confusion and standing up.

“I don’t think so. We were just discussing next week’s missions. Very boring stuff. You’d hate it”

His grin widens, and you know he doesn’t believe you, “Really? Because you’re looking awfully guilty”

Before you can defend yourself, Geto walks in, holding two coffees and looking entirely unbothered by the tension in the room.

“Satoru, do you ever think about leaving people alone?”

“Never”

He hands you one of the coffees and shrugs, “See? He’s incapable of basic decency. Good luck”

And just like that, he’s gone, taking Shoko with you, leaving you alone with a now curious Gojo.

“You’re up to something” he says, folding his arms.

“Nope. Not at all”

But you know this isn’t over. Satoru Gojo doesn’t let things go easily.

Hours later, you reconvene with Shoko and Geto in a secluded corner of the courtyard. You’ve somehow convinced them to help you with your grand plan: throwing the most chaotic yet heartfelt birthday party Satoru Gojo has ever seen.

“This is a terrible idea” Shoko says bluntly, sipping on a cigarette instead of her coffee now as you fix the camera’s position, “He’s going to figure it out”

“Not if we’re careful” you insist, flipping through your notes, “Okay, here’s what we’ve got so far: decorations, cake, gifts, and a playlist. Shoko, you’re on distraction duty”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one he won’t suspect of being sentimental” Geto answers, lounging lazily on the grass.

You point to him next, “Geto, you’re handling decorations”

“Can’t wait to see what kind of sparkly nonsense he likes” Geto deadpans.

“And I’ll take care of the cake and gifts” you finish, “We’ll record everything so we can show him later how much effort went into this”

Shoko raises an eyebrow, “You really think he’s going to care about that?”

You hesitate, then grin, “No, but it’ll annoy him to know he didn’t catch us in the act”

The next few days are a whirlwind of poorly concealed planning and increasingly desperate attempts to throw Gojo off your trail.

You and Shoko are browsing through decorations online during lunch when Gojo suddenly appears behind you like a specter. The videocamera right by your side recording the process.

“What are you guys looking at?”

You slam your laptop shut so fast that Shoko flinches, “Nothing! Just… work stuff”

“Work stuff?” he echoes, leaning in uncomfortably close, “Lemme see”

“Absolutely not”

Shoko sighs dramatically and hands him her phone, “Here. Have this. Go bother someone else”

He snatches it, pouting, “This better not be another video of a cat falling off a table—oh, it is. Nice”

As soon as he’s distracted, you and Shoko bolt.

Geto is tasked with picking up decorations. He returns to the school with a bag of multicolored streamers, balloons, and—somehow—a life-sized cutout of Gojo himself.

“Where did you even find this?” you ask, incredulous, putting the camera down.

“Doesn’t matter” he replies, smirking, “It’s perfect”

“Perfect for what?”

You nearly drop the cutout as Gojo materializes out of thin air.

“For… uh…” You flail, searching for an excuse.

“A training exercise” Geto supplies smoothly.

Gojo eyes the cutout skeptically, “A training exercise with a cardboard version of me?”

“Yes” you say, clapping Geto on the shoulder, “We’re trying to improve our reaction times. Totally normal. Bye!”

You shove the cutout behind your back, grab your camera, and drag Geto away before Gojo can ask more questions.

The cake is a disaster.

“This is fine” you say, staring at the lopsided monstrosity you’ve just pulled out of the oven.

“It’s not fine” Shoko says, filming the whole thing, “This is a crime against baking”

“We’ll fix it!”

Shoko zooms in on the uneven frosting job as you frantically try to salvage the cake. “You’re lucky Satoru has no taste”

“Shut up and pass me the sprinkles”

By some miracle, everything comes together on the day of the party. The courtyard is decorated with streamers and balloons (and the Gojo cutout, which now has a party hat), the cake is… presentable, and a playlist of Gojo’s favorite obnoxious pop songs is ready to go.

The only problem is keeping him out of the area long enough to set everything up.

“That’s your job” you tell Shoko as you finish arranging the table, making sure the camera is set at the perfect angle, “Just stall him for an hour”

She rolls her eyes, “Sure. I’ll just tell him we’re doing a surprise intervention for his ego”

“That might actually work” Geto muses.

You shoo them both away and look towards the camera, “Okay, it’s almost time. If we can just keep him distracted a little longer, this might actually work—”

“Keep who distracted?”

You whip around to see Satoru standing behind you, his sunglasses pushed up onto his head and a suspicious look on his face.

“Uh—no one!” you say, trying to block his view of the decorations.

He steps closer, peering over your shoulder, “Is that… a cardboard version of me wearing a party hat?”

Panic sets in, “No! It’s for… science!”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, “Science?”

“Yes!” You grab his arm and start steering him away, “And you can’t be here because it’s classified science”

Why couldn’t you be better at lying?

He plants his feet, refusing to budge, “Classified, huh? Sounds fake”

“It’s not!”

But it’s too late. He’s already spotted the cake on the table, and the realization dawns on his face. A soft look, almost unnoticeable, appears on his face.

“You’re throwing me a party?”

You groan, dropping your hands, “We were trying to surprise you”

Satoru grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself, “Aww, you guys shouldn’t have”

“We really shouldn’t have” Shoko says, appearing with Geto behind him.

“Well, since you ruined the surprise” Geto adds, smirking, “you might as well enjoy it”

Despite the rocky execution, the party is a success. Satoru spends the evening teasing you all mercilessly while eating an alarming amount of cake and insisting on taking selfies with the cardboard cutout.

Later, as you’re cleaning up, he sidles up to you with a rare, genuine smile.

“Thanks for this. It was… nice”

You roll your eyes, “You’re welcome. But next year, you’re not getting anything”

“We’ll see about that” he says, ruffling your hair before wandering off to bother Shoko.

And even though it was chaotic, exhausting, and mildly traumatic, you can’t help but feel a little proud. Because for once, you managed to surprise the unbeatable Satoru Gojo—even if only for a moment.

The camera records the light blush that forms on your face as you smile at him without his notice.

taglist: @gumiiiiezzzz @reagan707

TUMBLR HAS ME FUMING WITH THAT BS ABOUT NOT LETTING ME ADD LINKS. HERE IS THE MASTERLIST LINK https://www.tumblr.com/laviefantasie/751113004215648256/the-gojos-video-diaries

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Lux; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! I, uh, was only supposed to write nine sentences for this, buuuuut I didn't only write nine sentences for this. 😅 LOOK, I HIT A GROOVE, I'M NOT SORRY. Enjoy your read-more, y'all.

“Do you want some ideas for names?” Billy offers. Most kids don’t get to “legally” name themselves quite this way, so he feels like helping Superboy pick a good name is important. He wants him to have one he really likes. “I know a lot of them. Or we could look some up online? Batman got us a desktop and got you a laptop and a tablet, in case you need one for anything. Oh, and there’s phones, so we can keep in contact! I should grab you yours, actually, it’s . . . somewhere in the kitchen, I think.” 

“‘Ideas’?” Superboy repeats, looking a little uncomfortable. “Like . . . what?” 

“I just mean suggestions,” Billy promises, immediately distracted from the phone by Superboy’s apparent discomfort. The phone can wait. “You can pick any name you want, it’s up to you. I’m not gonna, like, veto you or anything.” 

“. . . sure,” Superboy says. He still looks uncomfortable and Billy still can’t be sure he really means it, but . . . well, he just has to do his best, he guesses.

“You don’t have to decide right away, you can think it over for a bit,” he says. “But we at least need something to put on the paperwork. You can always change it later if you decide you don’t like it.” 

“Whatever,” Superboy says, his mouth thinning. Billy thinks Cadmus was sort of terrible for not giving him a name. Actually, no, Cadmus was really terrible for that.

“How about I just list some, and if you like any of them, you can just say?” he suggests. 

“Whatever,” Superboy repeats, looking away. Well . . . it’s not a “no”, at least, so Billy figures they can try, and if Superboy gets annoyed, they’ll just stop and try again later. 

“Okay,” he says. “Um . . . let’s see, what are some good ones . . . David, Asher, Zachary, Parker, Otto, Levi . . . um . . .” 

Superboy’s jaw tightens. Billy stops listing names and bites his tongue. Okay. The name thing is a sore spot, maybe. Or maybe Superboy just doesn’t like any of his suggestions and thinks he’s lame, he guesses. That might also be, like . . . a thing. 

“I’ll try to think of some more later,” Billy says, repressing a guilty wince and grasping desperately for a new topic. “Do you, uh . . . have any questions? Or anything like that?” 

Probably he should’ve asked that sooner, come to think. 

"How often are you gonna be here?" Superboy asks, still looking away. Billy can’t really read what he can see of his face very well, but hopefully once they know each other better he'll get better at that kind of thing. Like, he’ll have to, right? 

"Oh, like–pretty much whenever I'm not doing hero stuff or on any League missions," he says. "I'll make sure and tell you if I'm ever gonna be gone overnight or anything like that, okay?" 

Superboy . . . blinks. Looks back at him. 

"You're going to live here?" he asks in confusion. Billy blinks too, tilting his head.

"Yeah," he says. "I mean, it wouldn't be very nice of me to just ditch you here all by yourself, would it?" 

"I can take care of myself," Superboy says, his expression shuttering. Billy frowns. 

"Well, sure, but that doesn't mean anybody's gonna make you," he says. Just because Superboy’s physically old enough to take care of himself doesn’t mean he’s not technically still a baby. He deserves to get taken care of and have somebody help him figure out, like . . . everything, pretty much. Civilian life and superhero stuff both. 

That’s why Billy’s doing this, so . . . yeah. 

“Why?” Superboy says. 

“Because that’d be really mean,” Billy says. “And we’re the good guys, so we have to be the good guys.” 

Superboy’s jaw tightens again, and then he folds his arms and looks away again too. He looks upset. Billy wishes he knew how to fix it. Like–even just a little bit. He knows sometimes that stuff just doesn’t “fix”, but . . . still. He’s trying to be a good dad here, so he feels like he should fix things like Superboy being upset. 

Well–he guesses just letting him work through being upset is okay too, if it comes to it. For when things aren’t that easy to get distracted from. Billy would also have a lot to be upset about if he’d been made in a lab and told he was supposed to be somebody he’s not and gotten mind-controlled the first time he’d ever woken up for real. Like, that’s a really shit first day. 

Superboy must feel really weird, too. Cadmus probably didn’t really teach him how to be a kid or a teenager, since they were trying to make an adult Superman, so it’s no wonder he thinks they’re gonna make him take care of himself. Billy’s gonna have to help him learn how being a kid works, he’s pretty sure. 

Well, he can do that. And, well, Superboy’s friends can cover the “teenager” stuff, he guesses. Like, probably. 

. . . maybe he could find a couple parenting books or something. A parenting book might be a good idea. 

"I just don't get it," Superboy says after a long moment staring at the wall, tensing his folded arms. "What about when you have to get back to your real life? Like your . . . your job and your house and your . . . family. This is keeping you away from all that." 

"Oh," Billy realizes, blinking at him in surprise. He guesses Superboy probably would expect him to have that kinda stuff, huh. "No, I don't really . . . have any of those, technically? I mean, I am human, I wasn't lying or anything, I just don't have a job or another house or anything like that. Actually the Justice League is paying for all of this, 'cause we were all talking about the best place for you to live and Superman asked if maybe I could take care of you, and I had to tell him I couldn't 'cause I didn't actually have anything to take care of you with, but Batman said the League could set up a stipend to pay for stuff and help me get a place and all that if I wanted to do it, sooooo . . ." 

". . . Superman asked you to take care of me?" Superboy asks hesitantly, shifting in his bean bag and finally glancing back to him again. 

"Yeah," Billy confirms with a nod, a little relieved that Superboy’s looking at him again. Well–close to him, anyway. He’s not quite making eye contact, but that’s fine. "Well, him and Batman. Because my powers are kinda close to yours so I can help you train and stuff, but also Kryptonians are vulnerable to magic so if you've got any mind control triggers in your head that we missed I should be able to stop you without having to hurt you. Like I could restrain you until we could help you or until you could snap out of it on your own, I mean." 

"Oh," Superboy says, blinking slowly. "I just figured somebody had some kryptonite somewhere in case something like that happened." 

"No," Billy says, frowning at the thought. Geez, what kind of an awful dad would he be if he did that? He's seen what kryptonite does to Superman and it totally sucks. "Kryptonite hurts. I'm not gonna let anybody use kryptonite on you. Er–well, probably eventually a bad guy will when you're on a mission, that's kind of how those go, but we're definitely not gonna keep any here.” 

"Why not?" Superboy asks, frowning back at him. "It's more efficient than actually fighting me. And I might injure you if I'm like that." 

"Yeah," Billy says. "But also somebody bad could use it against you if they ever broke in and found it. And this is, um–well. This is your home now, so I don't think there should be things that could hurt you in it anyway." 

Superboy stares blankly at him again. Billy tries not to fidget. 

"There were lots of things that could hurt me in Cadmus," Superboy says, his face staying very, very blank in a way that Billy immediately hates. 

"Well, this isn't Cadmus," Billy says firmly, trying to look as sincere and trustworthy and dad-ly as he knows how to. He had a really, really great dad. He can pay that forward. Superboy deserves a great dad too. "I'm taking care of you now, and I don't want kryptonite or anything like it around you. Ever." 

Superboy stares at him. His expression is really complicated-looking and Billy doesn't understand it, so he just keeps trying to look as dad-ly as possible. Hopefully that'll help, or at least won't hurt. 

". . . what about your family, though?" Superboy asks after a long moment, flicking his eyes away uncomfortably. Billy really hopes he's doing this right. "Or do you, uh, not have one of those either?" 

"Um," Billy says. "Well, I have the worst uncle in the world who I really hope is rotting in prison somewhere by now, but otherwise it's just you."

"What?" Superboy frowns again, looking confused. "What's just me?" 

"Uh . . . my family?" Billy replies, a little embarrassed. He hasn't actually had any family that he could still want to be around in . . . well, a really long time now, so it feels sort of weird to say it, but it is true. Dubiously-legally true, given all the fake paperwork Batman’s been putting together, but still true. 

Superboy gives him the blank stare yet again. Billy feels like a moron, but–well, he's not gonna take it back. Even if Superboy thinks he's presuming too much too quick or something, which admittedly he kinda is, Billy also can't imagine how awful it'd be hearing someone call you their family and then say they weren't really or hadn't actually meant it or just . . . whatever. 

Superboy might not even care if he did, but . . . 

Well. Billy would care. So he's not gonna.

Ever.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hi Zombie! Do you take asks for Tech Tuesdays? If so, I’ve got one if you’re willing. Say you had an emergency, but Jake was out for the day!! Not only did your computer start to wig out, but it deleted the important presentation that has to be shown to some of your biggest clients this afternoon and there’s no backup file. Who would be sent to save the day? How would that go?

I'm so glad you sent this in because this is a great way to introduce Ransom to Tech Tuesdays!

Summary: Your laptop needs repair and you're at risk of embarrassing yourself and the company in front of some very big investors.

Warnings: None yet. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 2

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Your laptop started stuttering until it completely froze and you only know to do the basics. Ctrl + Alt + Delete, nothing. Holding down the power button, nothing. You want to cry, smash the laptop to pieces but that won't help. You just pray that your presentation can be salvaged before the clients show up. Maybe there was a copy saved to the Network? Maybe?

You take a deep breath and squeeze one of your nearby stuffed animals to help you calm down. Sometimes you get looks for the cutesy stuff you keep in your cubicle but there's no denying your ability with numbers so no one says anything. Really, the only compromise you had to make when you got promoted was exchanging some of your cutesy clothes for more professional looking ones.

Once you're calm(ish), you unplug your laptop and walk to the IT Department. You hoped they liked the cookies you brought them after the last time they had to fix your laptop. Jake was such a patient sweetheart the entire time and Mr. Pine was quick to reassure you that it wasn't anything they hadn't seen before.

Walking into the department, it feels quieter than usual. You look around but don't see Jake or Mr. Pine. Thankfully Mr. Syverson spots you and politely asks you what's up.

“M-my, my laptop,” you stutter, trying not to cry. “It, I don't even know what it did but it's, it's not working and I've got a big presentation and I don't know if there's a copy or something and I really need to get--”

Mr. Syverson holds up his hand to stop you, “it's alright Miss. We'll take care of you.”

“Last time Jake helped me,” you tell him.

He winces, “well, unfortunately, Jake is on vacation right now. This is gonna require Ransom. Follow me, please.”

You don't hesitate to follow the large man further into the department. He knocks at one of the cubicles and gets a sharp “what?” for his efforts.

“Ransom, got someone here who needs your help with their laptop,” Mr. Syverson says, tone stern. You can hear the person inside audibly sigh and you imagine they're rolling their eyes. “Now don't be givin' me that,” Mr. Syverson continues. “It is part of your job requirements and you will be polite. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” is the sarcastic reply.

“If I hear one complaint from this lady about you bein' rude it will result in a discussion about your job status. Ya hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” the voice grumbles.

Mr. Syverson backs away and gestures you to approach Ransom. As you walked into his cubicle the first thing you notice are his sharp blue eyes. They're the same blue as his sweater.

“You're wearing a sweater!” You blurt.

“Yes,” he replies. “It gets cold this close to the server room.” He looks like he wants to say more but he's holding back. “What's wrong with your laptop?”

“It's not working.”

“Obviously,” he says through gritted teeth. “Can you get more specific than that?”

“Oh, oh, yes,” you exclaim. “I just plugged it into the network port and it started buffering. The I tried to do the control alt delete thing and it just froze up. I tried holding down the power button and nothing.”

“Let me take a look,” he holds out his hand. You give him the laptop.

There's no chair for you to sit in so you stand there, feeling awkward as he does a few things. He plugs in some kind of device and looks to be working on his own computer while he does it. Feeling nervous about the upcoming presentation that you may have just ruined, you find yourself shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Must you do that?” Ransom turns to you, clearly frustrated. “I'm trying to focus and you're being distracting.”

“I'm sorry,” you're almost blubbering from the stress. “I just...I need to...there's a presentation...and I...”

He holds out his hands in a 'please stop' gesture and take a breath to try not to cry. “If I can get you that presentation, and get it on a different laptop, are you willing to go back to your desk until this one is fixed?”

“Yes, absolutely,” you bounce on your toes. You don't understand why he cringes and tightens his hands into fists.

“Great,” he says through gritted teeth. “Tell me the filename and go ask Walter for a temporary laptop.”

“Okay! Thank you!” You give him the filename and head out.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

[kpopfanfictrash]

Love to Hate (Extra Scene III: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place during Chapter 7 of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: semi-public sex, breast play, fingering, dirty talk (hypothetical cum play, possessiveness), spanking, multiple orgasms, somewhat rough sex

Word Count:  8,704

“If this trend were to continue, I’m not certain how we could keep up with production. This would obviously pose a problem for our shareholders, so let’s brainstorm solutions before the next quarterly call. Does that work for you, Mr. Jeon?”

A long, pregnant pause.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Beneath the table, Namjoon gives a not-so-subtle kick to Jungkook’s kneecap. Jerking upright, Jungkook glances around to cover his recent lapse. Based on Namjoon’s glare, his attempt must not pass muster.

“I – yes.” Jungkook nods, hoping he hasn’t agreed to something terrible. “That works for me. Thank you.”

The woman pauses, clearly unused to being thanked by the CEO. “Of course, Mr. Jeon,” she says, recovering quickly to take her seat.

Fingers tapping the acrylic table, Jungkook glances as covertly as he can at the clock. A wave of panic washes over him when he realizes the meeting has nearly ended since Jungkook doesn’t remember a single discussion. Unusual, for a man who insists on booking his own travel because he doesn’t trust anyone else to find the best deal.

It’s not like Jungkook to be distracted, or to not pay attention to detail. A swift glance at his notebook proves equally damning. Usually, Jungkook takes careful notes but today, the only thing written is the date at the header.

Subtly, Jungkook straightens. Forcing himself to concentrate, he listens to the rest of the updates. Someone from Info Security briefs Jungkook on a new phishing attack. A woman from Finance updates them on the search for a new travel vendor. Jungkook listens closely, responding when needed but can feel Namjoon’s gaze on his cheek the rest of the meeting.

Knowing his COO, Namjoon has some thoughts about Jungkook drifting off. It’s for this reason that Jungkook hangs back once the meeting has finished. Namjoon also stays, waiting until the last person files out before swiveling sideways, exhaling in a way which implies years of exhaustion.

“Tissue?” Jungkook offers blithely.

Namjoon fixes him with a look. “No, thanks. What’s going on?”

“I’m… not sure what you mean.”

Brows lifted, Namjoon pushes himself to stand. “Yes, you do.” Lifting his laptop, he walks around the table. “For weeks now, you’ve been distracted. Years of planning and here we are, in the home stretch but somehow, it feels like I’m alone. Tell me what’s going on – and don’t,” Namjoon adds, a note of warning to his voice, “say this is all in my head.”

Jungkook closes his mouth, about to say just that. 

Sinking into his seat, Jungkook searches for a response because Namjoon is right. Something has been going on and Jungkook has been distracted. Ever since the dinner at Aleve, Jungkook hasn’t been himself. Realizing his fingers have resumed tapping the table, Jungkook forces himself to stop.

Two weeks have passed since he last spoke to you at Aleve. Two weeks of pretending neither of you cares about the other. Unless you really don’t care, and Jungkook is the only one who’s pretending.

Thoughts souring, Jungkook considers the possibility. Fighting the tide of memory is useless – as soon he thinks of your name, Jungkook disappears. He remembers the last time he saw you, entering Aleve with his father and Namjoon. Hearing your laughter from across the room, craning his neck only to find you with Liam Jessen. Jungkook’s worst enemy, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.

Jungkook tried to recover after that, tried not to think about it – a plan swiftly dashed when he ran into you outside the bathroom. Cheeks hot, Jungkook once more relives that brutal interaction.

It doesn’t matter who you sleep with. I know you’ll call as soon as you realize they’re just as boring as every man before me.

Jungkook was jealous, but there’s no excuse for what he said. Your response was equally cutting, reducing whatever had been between you to sex. Jungkook should have pressed harder, but imposter syndrome stepped in and all he could do was agree.

Now, a voice in the back of his mind – which sounds suspiciously like Yoongi – whispers that Jungkook pushes people away to see if they’ll come back. Unfair, whispers that same voice. True relationships don’t keep score. You shouldn’t be guilted into admitting your feelings before Jungkook deigns to tell you his.

It’s no wonder you haven’t reached out, proving the second half of his statement incorrect. You haven’t felt the need to call him since Liam. Instead of lashing out, Jungkook should have just told you how he felt. Maybe then, he’d be seeing you tonight instead of facing yet another night alone in his apartment. Wondering if you’re by yourself or out there with Liam. 

Swallowing hard, Jungkook pushes the thought away. Realizing his fingers have resumed their tapping, Jungkook lays his palm flat on the table. “I’m sorry,” he exhales and looks up. “I… know I’ve been distracted. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Concern knits Namjoon’s brow. “That’s not – I wasn’t trying to get you to apologize, man. I genuinely want to know what’s going on. Are you alright?”

These simple words dissolve the barrier between Jungkook’s mind and his mouth. Embarrassing, how fast genuine concern can make Jungkook break down. His father would have had something to say about it – which probably means Jungkook shouldn’t be embarrassed about the reaction.

“No,” he admits. “Everything isn’t okay – but it will be. Soon. I know I’ve been distracted, but I promise to do better.”

Namjoon looks at him wryly. “Who are they?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Laughing to himself, Namjoon takes the seat beside him. “Whoever it is that has you in shambles,” he continues. “This conference room is dry, otherwise I’d offer you a stiff drink. Feels like we should imbibe if we have to talk about feelings.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those who’ve been there before.”

Leaning back in his seat, Jungkook tilts his head. He and Namjoon have been friends for years, although their friendship began as a business relationship. Namjoon wasn’t around for the less savory parts of his life; the years when Jungkook was drunk more often than not and took nothing about this company seriously. 

Other people remember though, and Jungkook has had to work to turn his image around. Even now, his father’s media headlines haunt his footsteps – although these have recently ceased since Jungkook became CEO. You’re a distraction to his work by any definition, drawing Jungkook’s attention away from the company. Especially so if Namjoon has noticed.

“Can I give you some advice?” Namjoon offers, steepling long fingers before him.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “If I said no, would that stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Then, sure. Go ahead.”

Namjoon leans in. “Don’t let this fester.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s been bothering you.” Namjoon lowers his hands. “Don’t let things linger – fix the situation before it’s too late. My mom always says not to go to bed angry and in this case, I agree with her.”

Jungkook considers. “When would you not agree with that statement?”

“If you’re both drunk and neither one of you are making any sense.”

“Huh.” He nods. “Valid.”

“Anyways,” Namjoon sighs. “I’ve been paying attention to you this week, and whatever’s going on hasn’t gotten any better. Rather than keep going, you should make a change.”

“A change to… what?”

“Hell, if I know.” Namjoon lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “I only know the bare minimum of information about your situation.”

“Fair point.” Jungkook exhales, pushing a hand through his hair.

Shoving his chair back to stand, Namjoon adjusts his suit jacket. Scooping his laptop from the table, he heads for the door only to pause on the threshold, looking as though he’s debating whether to say something or not.

Evidently, saying the thing wins out and he straightens. “You know you can delegate, right?” Namjoon says, leveling Jungkook with a look. “Today’s meeting, for example. You probably don’t need to hear every update from every department. Let your CFO talk to Finance and tell you if something’s important.”

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens. “You’re probably right,” he allows.

Truthfully, Jungkook is struggling to find his management style. His father ruled through fear and the occasional carrot. Jungkook wants to make his own mark on the company and have his employees work because they actually want to, but this is proving more difficult to achieve than he thought.

“Just a thought.” Namjoon shrugs, slapping the door before disappearing down the hall. Jungkook is left alone, the clock on the wall the only sound apart from his thoughts. 

Exhaling lowly, he stares at his hands atop the acrylic table. On his right, the sun has gradually sunk towards the horizon. Today is Friday, meaning most of his staff has gone home by now. Their weekly report-out is usually the last meeting on people’s calendars. Jungkook rarely leaves before the sun sets, though. He uses his time in the evening to respond to his emails.

Namjoon is probably right about delegating. Afraid of being seen as an absentee leader, Jungkook has joined every meeting for every direct report since the Board voted him in as CEO. It’s probably time for him to relax the reins, or else be seen as a micromanager. 

Releasing a breath, Jungkook pulls his notepad closer. His cell phone sits beside him on the table, stubbornly silent since the start of the meeting. Jungkook doesn’t bother to check if you’ve texted, since he already knows the answer. 

Since Aleve, you’ve been quiet.

Things were awkward before then though if he’s being honest. When you called Jungkook the night prior and asked him to stay, he nearly jumped at the chance. Despite having a Board meeting the next day and mountains of paperwork to do – the moment you called, Jungkook came. The truth of the matter was he wouldn’t turn down any opportunity to see you, no matter the consequences.

Jungkook should’ve known then that he was in trouble, but he didn’t fully realize until the next day. When he awoke and saw your face limned by sunlight, Jungkook knew things had gone further than he intended.

He had feelings for you. Strong feelings. Feelings Jungkook had never experienced, and ones which put him in danger because they broke all your rules. This was also the moment panic set in – you’d been more than clear about what would happen if he broke a rule. Jungkook had fallen for the one person he’d promised not to – and so he ran away.

Later, he texted a casual thank you. Jungkook tried to pull back, tried to disguise his true feelings so you wouldn’t suspect things had changed. Somehow though, this only seemed to make things worse. The voice in his head whispers Jungkook did it on purpose – shut you down before you could tell him to go.

Eyes closed, Jungkook swivels in his chair. Namjoon is right. He should call you, but the thought of picking up the phone and putting his heart on the line seems insurmountable. It’s nearly six o clock on a Friday, anyways – more than likely, you’re out with your friends.

Jungkook’s throat tightens. Or possibly out on another date with Liam. 

Pushing his chair back, Jungkook reaches for his notebook. Over a month has gone by since he ran into Liam at your fundraiser – it seems impossible for feelings to have developed in such a short time. Then again, Jungkook didn’t feel this way about you a month ago. Hell, he was in denial of his feelings up until your apartment.

Now that he knows though, it’s up to Jungkook to confess before it’s too late. Even if you are hooking up with Liam, that would be better than if you developed feelings for him. This depressing turn of thought is thankfully interrupted by Jungkook’s phone buzzing.

Withdrawing this, he hopes for your name only to be disappointed by the truncated line of text. Exhaling lowly, Jungkook swipes.

Dad: You need to attend the Y/L/N’s anniversary party tomorrow evening. Unexpected business out of town – will be gone until Monday. Sign my name in the card, thx [6:36 PM]

Frown deepening, Jungkook pockets his phone. Just like his father to expect him to drop everything and attend to the family business. If the Board vote on company strategy weren’t imminent, Jungkook would likely tell his father to go to hell.

There’s also the fact that your family name is in the text – Y/L/N. This party is being thrown by your parents, which means you might attend. Coming to a stop before his office, Jungkook is struck by the possibility this could work in his favor.

Rather than chase you down, he could show up at the party and see your reaction. Something to inform him whether his feelings are returned before placing it all on the line.

Jungkook knows that feelings shouldn’t be conditional. That if he wants to confess, he should just do it, but Jungkook manages to push the voice aside. Already building a plan for tomorrow, he strides into his office and lets the door shut.

All day long, Jungkook debates what time to arrive. Get there too soon, and he might scare you off. Arrive late enough and he could miss you entirely. You haven’t been shy about the feelings you hold for your parents, and Jungkook doubts you’ll stay long.

In the end, he exits his town car a half hour late, but Jungkook needn’t have worried: you’re nowhere to be found. Deflating slightly, Jungkook wanders inside and orders a drink from a bar. Turning to face the ballroom, he swirls his whiskey while scanning the floor.

The party is indistinguishable from any other society event, doing little to recommend it in Jungkook’s opinion. Pulling himself from the bar, Jungkook engages in small talk while making the rounds and keeping one eye on the door.

Nearly an hour passes, and Jungkook finds himself trapped in conversation with one of his father’s close friends. Laura something or other; Jungkook can’t recall her surname. Nodding while listening, Jungkook tunes Laura out while she prattles on about her new diamond mine. 

“Have you been there?” Laura prompts, forcing him into the conversation.

“Hm?” Jungkook lifts a brow. “No, I’m afraid not.”

A risk, since he didn’t hear where Laura mentioned, but a negative answer discourages follow-up. Or so it would seem. With Laura though, this prompts a soliloquy about the benefits of Cannes in the fall. As soon as he considers it polite to do so, Jungkook excuses himself and heads once more for the bar.

He’s nearly made it when the crowd parts and time seems to slow as you enter the ballroom. Dressed in a gown of midnight blue, you throw your head back and laugh – and Jungkook’s gaze drifts sideways to land on Liam Jessen. 

His feet turn to ice. Coming to a stop, Jungkook can’t help but stare at the sight of your arm intertwined with his. You look beautiful, but then again, you always do. Gown sweeping the floor, you’re nothing short of ethereal and seeing you on the arm of another man slices Jungkook’s chest open. 

When you look at Liam and smile, the pounding of Jungkook’s heart drowns out all thought. Grasping ahold of himself, Jungkook spins around to stalk across the floor. He can’t see you like this. Can’t talk to you calmly when you’re here with Liam.

Dropping his glass on the bar counter, Jungkook asks for a whiskey and waits while it’s poured. Staring down at his hand, he regains control of his breathing. 

You came here with Liam. 

You came tonight with a date, and that date is Liam. Sluggishly, Jungkook tries to separate the two thoughts, but they continue to attract like opposing magnets. Discomfort prickles in the back of his mind, putting two and two together. Your rules resurface, unasked and unwanted.

Number one, no discussion of personal lives (broken several times over). Number two, always use protection and get tested monthly for STDs. Number three, that you’re not exclusive. Number four, that either of you are free to end things any time, and rule number five, that your parents can’t find out.

It’s the fifth rule which has Jungkook’s stomach in knots. He assumed you didn’t want to tell your parents because you’re estranged and dating anyone from their world would bring complications. Which makes sense, if Jungkook and you were just having sex. Complications are the antithesis of that type of thing.

For you not to have similar reservations about Liam means things between you are different. That possibly you think Liam is worth the hassle. Unable to contemplate any meaning beyond this, Jungkook’s thoughts curdle and sour.

The bartender finishes pouring, and Jungkook accepts this without comment to chug a third. Setting this back down, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. Exhaling, he considers the options before him. 

You haven’t seen him, which means that Jungkook could leave. His father might be angry, but frankly, that’s the least of Jungkook’s concerns. The more Jungkook ponders, the more appealing this seems, and the more his resolve hardens.

Draining another third, Jungkook turns around and spots you across the room. You stand beside a different bar, smiling at something your brother just said. White-hot jealousy licks Jungkook’s stomach, seeing you introduce Liam to your family.

The rest of his drink disappears, and Jungkook places the empty glass on the counter, sliding the bartender a fifty. Adjusting his suit jacket, he skirts the edge of the room as he heads for the door.

Your face burns in his mind. Standing between your brother and Liam, you seemed almost happy. Buoyant. Without a care in the world. Exactly the opposite of how Jungkook feels now. Clearly, you haven’t been missing him during your time apart. 

Forcing his expression to neutrality, Jungkook crosses the rest of the room. He’s nearly made it to the hallway when a man steps into his path.

“Jungkook!” Reaching for his hand, the man clasps this tightly. “What a surprise – fancy seeing you here instead of your father. Seems like the regime change is in full swing, eh?”

With great effort, Jungkook slows his stride. The man is Charles Smith – a valuable ally, and one of the few Fortune 500 companies willing to invest in clean energy. Namjoon has drafted numerous proposals for their companies working together, which means Jungkook can’t afford to alienate him at such a crucial time.

Forcing a smile, Jungkook comes to a stop. “Something like that,” he says smoothly, shaking his hand. “How are you this evening, Charles?”

“Oh, Chuck is fine. I’m swell,” he says, withdrawing his hand to swirl his gin. “The doctor keeps telling me not to drink, but we’ve all got to die sometime – right?”

“Right,” Jungkook agrees, though his gaze darts towards the hall.

Unfortunately, this means you’re forced in his path. You’ve left the bar and now stand beside your mother, your expression aggravated in a way Jungkook can understand. When your gaze locks with his, you go completely still. 

Even if Jungkook didn’t know who your companion was, he’d know you were related. Something about your bearing, the confident way you stand screams familial relation. You probably wouldn’t like hearing that, but traits by themselves aren’t bad. It’s what you do with them that matters.

While your mother seems unimpressed by her surroundings, you look visibly frustrated. Jungkook isn’t sure why and probably shouldn’t care to find out. Your familial problems are none of his concern.

Turning around, Jungkook thanks Charles for his time before he moves on. Your worried face refuses to dissipate from mind though, despite his best efforts. Eventually, Jungkook exhales and turns – only to notice Liam is still with you. Feet pausing, Jungkook finds himself feeling foolish for the second time that night.

Grasping you by the arm, your mother returns you to their circle – completing the image of a picture-perfect family. Idiot, Jungkook curses, disappearing again. Foolish to not hear what you said, to ignore the many, many times you’ve placed boundaries between you. 

Jungkook’s inner voice delights in his anguish, strengthened by the ache in his heart. Not good enough for your father, not good enough for Y/N, the voice muses. How can you hope for a serious relationship when you’ve never been in one before? Liam might be an ass, but at least he has ambition. He made something of himself, rather than spend so many years drowning in self-pity.

As cruel as the thought is, it’s not entirely wrong. Liam has more in common with you than Jungkook would like to admit – you’ve known from a young age what you wanted, just like Liam. Liam wasn’t born into wealth; his family doesn’t exist within the same social circle. It almost makes sense, the idea of you dating.

Liam betrayed Jungkook’s confidence once, but they were both young then. Naïve. Maybe Liam has changed since the internship – God knows, Jungkook has. 

Returning his thoughts to present, Jungkook reaches the valet. Ultimately, you brought Liam to meet your parents and not Jungkook. Whether this means you have feelings for Liam or can’t see a future with Jungkook – either way, the result is the same.

Jungkook supposes he can’t blame you for that. Jeon Energy is the Goliath to your David. Until Jungkook’s proposal is approved by the Board, the direction of Jeon Energy remains the same. Dating him would go against everything you believe in. It isn’t as though Jungkook has let you in on his plans or allowed you to think better of him in any way. 

While waiting for his car to arrive, Jungkook keeps both hands in his pockets. The fact that you brought Liam means Rule Number Four can’t be far behind. The rule which allows either of you to end things between you. Jungkook recalls how he scoffed at this rule, certain it wouldn’t be necessary for either one of you. 

In his experience, interest rarely lasts longer than a month. Jungkook figured your spark would fizzle and die, that you’d gradually stop calling and there’d be no hard feelings. Now, he can’t help but wonder at how foolish he was.

Jungkook needs to end this before you can. 

By ending things first, it’d allow Jungkook to keep some of his dignity. It would also give you an out, alleviating you from pressure of letting him down. If anything, Jungkook imagines you’ll feel some relief. This way, you don’t have to explain about Liam.

Flipping his keys, Jungkook is staring into the night when footsteps approach. 

Turning his head, he watches the moment you enter the hall. A vision in blue, fabric drifting around your legs as you come to a stop. For a moment, Jungkook wonders if you’re here to see him before banishing the notion as dangerous.

“Hi,” you exhale, your voice carrying through the hall.

Brow furrowing, Jungkook wonders why you came. Maybe Liam is close behind, ready to leave with you in his car. 

“Hi,” Jungkook exhales, his chest tight.

Glancing over his shoulder, you search for someone, and Jungkook’s confusion grows. Everyone else remains at the party. Distractedly, Jungkook wonders if you saw him leave and came to check on him. The thought of your pity makes his neck heat.

“Can we talk?” you ask at last, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook pauses, at war with himself. If he agrees, he’d be moving up the timeline of your conversation. Not to mention the fact that merely the sight of you loosens his resolve. If you were to talk now, who knows what he’d say.

“I…” Jungkook hesitates, certain he should say no. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

Something flares in your gaze. “I didn’t say it was a good idea. I said I wanted to talk.”

Jungkook is forced to press his lips together to keep from laughing. It’s just such a you thing to say that against his better judgement, Jungkook finds himself nodding. Despite knowing this will hurt more tomorrow, Jungkook gives in.

Taking him by the arm, you tug him down the hall. Jungkook follows closely behind, unceremoniously dragged while you find a suitable room. Pulling open a door, you shove Jungkook in, flicking the light switch to quickly follow suit.

Your dress settles around you, nose nearly pressed to his in the dim light of the closet. Jungkook’s heart pounds, overloud in such a small space. Your scent wraps around him, body and soul, pulling him in when he should run away. It muddies what he came here to tell you, causes him to forget that you’re breaking his heart.

Unable to breathe, Jungkook looks at the door. Then, at your ear. Anywhere but at your gaze, which can see right through him. 

Eventually, the silence moves him to speak. “You wanted to talk?” Jungkook asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

You blink in amazement. “That’s… all you have to say?”

Jungkook notices you’re holding his wrist at the same time you do. Dropping him as though burned, you take a step backwards and your spine hits the door. This rejection stings more than Jungkook would like to admit.

“Well, I was about to leave,” he says stiffly, and meets your gaze.

He wishes he hadn’t when your eyes narrow, full of fire. It’s unfair of you to look at him like that. Unfair to look at him at all when you came here with Liam and again, Jungkook wonders why you’re here. 

“Fine, then,” you huff. “I’ll speak.”

Jungkook’s heart aches when he hears the clear hurt in your voice. As infuriating as tonight has been, Jungkook had every opportunity to say how he felt weeks ago. Hell, he could have called yesterday, but he didn’t. Instead, Jungkook showed up tonight and expected to be met with your praise.

Folding your arms across your chest, you fix Jungkook with a glare. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” you exhale.

Jungkook hesitates, unsure how to respond. You came here tonight with Liam, so it doesn’t make sense for you to pull him aside for small talk. To chase him towards his car only to ask Jungkook how he’s been.

Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Jungkook searches for an answer that’s least embarrassing. Or incriminating.

“I’ve been out of town,” he says at last.

You study his face. “Business trip?”

“Yes. Amongst other things.”

It’s mostly true. Jungkook and Namjoon have been traveling across the country, securing their plans for the upcoming Board meeting. You don’t know anything about that though, so his answer remains vague.

“Seems awfully sudden,” you observe.

Realizing his jaw is clenched, Jungkook forces himself to relax. The fact that you’re here, mad at him when you came with Liam is beyond infuriating. “I can’t help but notice,” he says, voice dropping, “you didn’t text me either. Or did I miss your messages?”

Something in your expression falters, but you recover quickly to step closer. Breath held, Jungkook looks you up and down. Everything about your body language screams anger, but this can’t be right. You’ve been dating Liam for weeks, have introduced him to your parents which means a breakup with Jungkook can’t be far behind – right? 

“No, you didn’t,” you admit. 

Jungkook’s resolve hardens. “So, I have to assume you didn’t want to see me.”

His voice comes out calmer than he is though, and the irrationality of your discussion spurs a wave of uncertainty. You didn’t text Jungkook; he didn’t text you. Both of you ignored the other and now, here you are. That part makes sense, no matter how uncomfortable.

What Jungkook can’t explain is why you ran after him. Why you pulled him aside and wanted to talk. None of what you’re saying matters if you’re planning to end things – unless you’re not. A wild spark of hope catches, and Jungkook smothers it quickly.

“I was waiting,” you blurt out, incredulous. “After all the weirdness at the restaurant, I was waiting for you to reach out to me!”

Jungkook’s thoughts stutter, then resume. You wanted him to reach out. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that you moved on so quickly. 

“What weirdness?” 

“Oh, please.” You stifle an eye roll. “I ran into you on a date with Liam, and you acted strange.”

Jungkook’s entire face heats. “I mean, I do think it’s weird that you want to date Jessen,” he says, unable to stop himself. “He’s not a good guy.”

“Why not?” you demand. “You can’t just say that, and not explain.”

Jungkook hesitates, on the verge of explanation before he pulls back. It doesn’t matter. If Jungkook tells you about Liam, he’d have to explain everything – his mom, his dad and the whole, morbid past. There’s no point in sharing if you’re leaving tonight.

Something about this feels wrong, but Jungkook can’t put a finger on why.

“Why did you even come here?” you ask, your expression changing. “Why did you come to my parents’ party if you didn’t want to see me? If you really don’t care?”

I care, Jungkook wants to yell. Obviously, he cares but you were the one who walked in on someone else’s arm. The confession chokes in his throat, stillborn.

“I came because my dad asked me,” Jungkook says instead. “He couldn’t attend, so he sent me in his place. It would’ve been rude for one of us not to attend.”

Your jaw tightens. “Liar.”

Jungkook goes still. “Excuse me?” 

Somehow, you move even closer. “I said, liar,” you repeat, chin tilted. “Your father didn’t ask you to come. You came here because you wanted to – why can’t you just admit that?”

Panic sparks, realizing you can see right through him. And still, Jungkook doesn’t understand why you’re pretending to care. Why you continue to push, trying to get Jungkook to say he cares when you’re the one leaving. Do you want him to beg? Would leaving be better if you left him humiliated?

Anger is easier to focus on than pain, and so Jungkook grasps it tight with both hands. 

Something in your gaze falters. “I – right, okay,” you murmur, fumbling behind you for the door. “Got it. I just… assumed. I’ll go.”

Hearing your voice crack, Jungkook’s fury vanishes. No longer caring about the why, he focuses on the what and reaches out for your wrist. Your breath catches when his fingers close around your warm skin. Gently – so gently – Jungkook turns you around and presses you to the door.

Inhaling your scent, Jungkook crowds you against the wood. You stare back at him and Jungkook wonders what would’ve happened if he’d just called. 

Feeling suddenly helpless, he drops the façade. “You’re right,” Jungkook admits, his voice hoarse. “I wanted to see you.”

Bending his head, he crushes your lips with his.

Your noise of surprise muffles, dissipating the moment your lips touch. Hands encircling his waist, you slowly trace the panes of his body. Jungkook loves the way you touch him – gentle and then, not gentle at all. Losing himself in your touch, Jungkook kisses you roughly.

When your hands tug his hair, Jungkook groans into your mouth. Memorizing the feel of your body with his, he shuts out the fear that this might be the last. Within minutes, the kiss has turned urgent, both of you searching for something unsaid. Smoothing a hand down your spine, Jungkook tugs you into his chest. 

Half-hard since he entered the closet, Jungkook bites down on your lip to relish the soft noise you make. Slipping his hand beneath the strap of your dress, he bares your shoulder and cups your breast in his palm. Slowly, he teases your nipple with his thumb and listens to your breath hitch.

Head lowered, Jungkook closes his lips around the nipple and tugs. You groan, arching against him in eager invitation. Hand reaching, Jungkook fumbles with your zipper until it catches and pulls. Your dress pools on the ground, leaving you naked except for your heels and panties. Cock swelling at the visual, Jungkook bites lightly on your nipple through lace.

Reaching behind, you undo your bra and let this fall to the floor. With it, the last of Jungkook’s resolve slips away. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Before you can respond, he lowers his head and sucks your breast again. Teasing you slowly, he relishes the eager rise and fall of your chest. Lowering his hand, he grasps your thigh to wrap firmly around him. Fingers searching, he skims the edge of your wetness and feels you tremble.

Returning to your lips, Jungkook crushes his mouth to yours. Now that you’ve kissed, he can’t seem to stop – especially when he knows this might be the last. Pouring everything he feels into a wordless gesture, Jungkook pulls you to him.

You whimper, shifting to better align your hips to his. Tightening his grip on your waist, Jungkook chuckles and keeps himself just beyond reach. Lazily trailing his fingers in circles, he angles his head to deepen the kiss.

“Jungkook,” you moan against his lips.

He can’t help but smile. “Yes?”

Eyes opening, your expression turns heady. “I need more.”

“More.” Casually, his fingers stroke higher. “Is that what you want from me? Want me to make you come, princess?”

There’s a bite to his words he can’t fully disguise. Jungkook is used to being wanted for his skills in bed. It’s never been something he begrudged before but then, he’s never wanted more from someone else and hearing you say it is like a knife to the chest.

You hesitate, gaze searching. “What do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook goes still, scanning your face. He wants more than this. He wants you and you, alone but that can’t possibly be what you mean. 

“What… do I want?” he repeats.

“Yes.” You stare up at him, earnest. “You always ask me what I want in bed, but what do you want?”

In bed. Each word is followed by a dull thunk, falling into place alongside the weight of expectation. Obviously, you meant sex – anything more would be ludicrous. You came here tonight with someone else, after all.

Lowering his head, Jungkook skims your throat with his nose. He allows his teeth to graze skin, feeling you shudder and tightening his grip. 

“This,” he murmurs, voice cracking in a rare moment of honesty. “Just this.”

Jungkook kisses you before you can see the desperation in his eyes. He backs you against the door, skimming the top of your panties with his rough fingers. You shudder against him, arching your chest and Jungkook takes pity.

Sliding a hand lower, he cups your center and hisses when he feels how wet you are. Slowly, he drags a finger forward – along the damp fabric. One palm on the door, Jungkook repeats this over and over, until you’re a wet, sopping mess.

“Jungkook,” you beg, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Thighs together, princess.”

Hastening to obey, you trap his hand between your warm legs. Flexing his wrist, Jungkook idly strokes along the seam of your panties. A soft moan leaves your lips, head hitting the door while he touches you. Jungkook slowly slips his finger beneath the soft lace.

Brushing the hood of your clit, he savors how swollen you are. How responsive your body is to his touch. Gaze dropping, he takes in the frantic roll of your hips.

“Jungkook,” you moan, and his gaze jerks upward.

“Look at you,” he croons, moving closer. “Already a mess and I’ve barely touched you. Just sucked on those pretty tits like you needed. Tell me,” he says, voice hardening. “Tell me you needed it.”

Deep down, Jungkook knows this is wrong. It isn’t healthy to push things so far, to make you come on his hand when he knows this is over – and yet, he can’t bring himself to stop. If this is all Jungkook gets, he at least wants you to remember. 

“I did,” you gasp. “I needed it so bad.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Because no one else gets you like this, huh?”

“N-no one,” you pant, a tremor to your voice.

“What was that?”

“No one but you, Jungkook,” you amend, and he grunts in approval.

“Turn around,” he demands and steps backwards.

You obey, hands pressed to the door as you lower your head. A shiver runs down Jungkook’s spine, seeing how much you trust him. Stepping closer, he eases your legs apart with one hand. Removing your panties, Jungkook lets them fall and presses his hips to your ass from behind.

“Did you bring a condom?” he murmurs, savoring your intake of breath.

Your head tips back a little. “I – no,” you blurt, eyes widening. “I didn’t think of it.”

Satisfaction seeps through his chest when Jungkook realizes you didn’t plan on sleeping with Liam. That’s something, at least. Something he can give you that no one else can. 

Chuckling lowly, he caresses your ass – only to bring his palm down. “Didn’t think of it,” Jungkook breathes, dragging two fingers through your dripping sex. “Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t” – a sharp inhale – “believe what?”

Spanking you again, Jungkook presses you against the door. “I don’t think you forgot a condom,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “I think that you wanted my cum inside you. Is that right? Want me to fuck you raw?”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction before he continues. You let out a whimper, pressing your ass backwards in clear invitation. Fuck. Jungkook nearly swears out loud, consumed by the thought of what it would feel like. Sex without a condom has never been practical for him but now, Jungkook finds himself imagining.

Slowly, he circles your dripping entrance. Sliding his finger inside, Jungkook lets you adjust before he pulls out. “You’re such a dirty girl,” he exhales, adding a second finger.

Pushing backwards, your legs widen slightly to accommodate him. Jungkook slowly moves in and out, stretching your entrance.

“Tell me you don’t want that,” he murmurs. “Me, bending you over and fucking you hard in this closet. Filling you up to the brim with my cum.”

It’s hard for Jungkook to concentrate once the thought has been voiced. If he can’t have you the way he wants to, he can at least pretend. When you moan your approval, it only stokes his flames higher.

“I could do that right now,” Jungkook continues, dropping his voice. “Fuck you so hard, then cum inside this perfect pussy. When I’m done, I’ll tug your panties up, put on your dress and send you back out there. Except” – his voice catches – “I’ll know. And you’ll know that your sweet, little pussy has been used by me. Belongs to me. Is full of me.”

You groan, arching into him while his fingers fill you. The image is provocative, imagining his claim when you return to Liam. Even if you don’t want Jungkook like that, your body clearly does – and Jungkook knows he can satisfy you better than anyone. The thought of his cum dripping down your thigh when you return to your date brings more than a little dark satisfaction.

“Jungkook,” you pant. 

“What, princess?” he murmurs, refocusing on the present.

“I – I’m close.”

“Already?” Grazing his teeth against your shoulder, Jungkook quickens his pace. “Let’s give you an orgasm to start, then.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as he pushes you over the edge. It’s not long before you gasp his name, spasming around Jungkook until he withdraws his fingers.

Exhaling slowly, you hang your head. Tugging down his zipper, Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a condom and rips this open. The tear of the packet makes you turn your head.

Dazed, your gaze latches onto the motion. “You… had a condom on you?”

Jungkook smirks and rolls this on. “You seemed to enjoy the idea of my cum inside you.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t disagree and Jungkook steps forward to press his cock to your core. Any trace of annoyance vanishes, replaced by desire as he drags his cock up and down. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels how wet you are, rubbing his head against your swollen clit. 

Slowly, he leans forward to press you against the door. “Is this what you want?” Jungkook urges, reaching lower to grasp his length with one hand. Casually, he smacks your clit with his cock. “Want my cock inside this needy pussy?”

“God, yes,” you groan as you lower your head.

Hearing this is searing and suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t feel like playing games. “Good,” he agrees and thrusts forward.

You gasp when he enters, gaze focused on the place where he fills you. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels the slickness of your heat, the easy way you envelop him when he slides in. Pausing halfway, he waits until you adjust before pushing further. Slow, easy thrusts until you take his whole length.

Jungkook grunts when he bottoms out, hips pressed snugly against your ass. Refusing to move, he begins to tease your body. Sliding one hand up your torso to cup your full breast in his palm. Casual, he plays with your tit as he starts to thrust – pulling back out, only to slide slowly in.

He does this again and again, memorizing your body until your patience disappears. Taking over the rhythm, you set the pace and push back on his cock. Jungkook allows you to lead before deciding enough is enough and resuming control. Grasping your hip, he presses you to the door and feels you inhale.

Your body melts with his, showcasing your trust and Jungkook nearly breaks. Thrusting forward, he fills you with everything that you crave. You want him to fuck you? So be it. You want him to give you an orgasm? Jungkook will do it. He’ll give you everything you ask, even if it costs him himself.

Touching your body everywhere he can reach, Jungkook feels a building urgency. Playing with your clit, teasing your breast, turning your face sideways to lick up your throat. Savoring your taste, he pounds into your body and hopes against reason you’ll remember tonight.

Based on the way your body trembles, the prospect is promising. Jungkook knows that he’s big. It’s something he’s heard before, but you take him so easily and without complaint. He knows you enjoy the sensation, that you appreciate the feeling of too-fullness he gives. The thought makes him even harder, his cock throbbing with each punishing thrust into your slick heat.

Sliding one palm underneath your knee, Jungkook opens you further and fully lets go. He feels your body constrict, fluttering around him to let him know you’re close.

“That’s it,” he grunts, gripping your jaw to turn your face to his. “Is this what you want? Want me to make you come?”

Silently, he begs you with his eyes to say something different. That you want more than sex, but nothing in your expression seems to understand.

“Yes,” you gasp, eyelashes fluttering. “Yes.”

Pressing his mouth to yours, Jungkook claims you when you come apart. You squeeze him so tightly, he wonders if you somehow know this might be the last time. Forcing himself to continue until your final wave, Jungkook finally comes in a heated shudder.

He stays there for a moment, breath rising and falling against your bare skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook imagines briefly this won’t be the end. That he can leave this closet, walk you back to your family and – here, stops the daydream because you came here with Liam.

Slowly, Jungkook withdraws and ties the condom in a knot. Clearing his throat, he fumbles for words while glancing around the closet.

This is the last time. It has to be the last since Jungkook can’t continue to break himself into pieces. Can’t continue to fuck you and send you home to him.

Quietly, you adjust the strap of your dress. Jungkook keeps his hands still, itching to help but convincing himself not to. Every part of his body screams at him to stay, to do something – say something – but he forces himself to stay.

Tucking himself into his pants, Jungkook pulls up the zipper. He feels the weight of your gaze on his cheek, uncertain. When he finally meets your eyes, Jungkook forces his expression to harden. After a moment, he looks past – towards the door.

Something in your posture stiffens. “Jungkook,” you say, sounding wary. “Why are you here?”

The answer rises to his lips, but Jungkook stamps it back down. He came to apologize. To tell you how he felt but all possibilities ended the moment you entered with Liam.

“Are you dating Liam?” Jungkook asks, the words slipping past. Cursing himself for the sudden lapse, he tries not to notice the way you react. 

“I… what?” 

Jungkook feels his lips tighten. “Are you dating Liam Jessen?”

“We…” You blink, hesitating a moment. “We’ve been on a few dates.”

Neither a yes nor a no, but either way, the words are enough to sink his last hope. Jungkook’s heart drops, and he nods.

Only a few dates is both good and bad. It’s good that the number is small – bad that despite this, you wanted Liam to meet your family. Swallowing hard, Jungkook tastes the scorched earth of his anger. He concentrates on this rather than on sorrow – easier to face you with vitriol in his heart.

Gaze flickering, you step closer. “Jungkook, I –”

“This should probably be the last time we do this, right?” 

You freeze, the heat from your body tangible. The look on your face is shock, clear and uncalculated, and Jungkook’s anger swells in response. You have no right to look at him that way – as though he were the villain breaking your heart.

“You…” Dazed, you shake your head. “We what?”

“You and Liam are together, right?” Jungkook asks, the words coming out sharp.

“Together isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Then what word would you use?” His words bleed with frustration, and Jungkook isn’t sure what he’s searching for. 

Except that’s not true because he does know. If you said you wanted him, Jungkook would end this right now. He’d say that he wants you, and that he wants things to change. Even while thinking this though, Jungkook knows it’s unfair. He can’t expect you to put your heart on the line when he’s not willing to do the same.

Either way, you say nothing and slowly, Jungkook’s frustration vanishes. Any answer would be preferred to this punishing silence. 

“Thought so,” he breathes, grasping for straws. “Wasn’t that part of the rules? We’d fuck until you found someone else to date?”

You recoil slightly, and it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself still. It’s better this way, he reasons. Better for you to hate him now than peer beneath the surface and see how much he’s hurting.

“That was a long time ago,” you counter. “And that’s not everything I said to you.”

Jungkook suppresses his wince because he knows. He knows things have changed since the night you gave your rules. Remembers with perfect clarity standing in your kitchen and hearing you say Jungkook’s mom would be proud. 

He remembers entering your body later that night, cupping your face with both hands to brush his lips against yours. Jungkook knows things have changed and still, he pushes you away because it seems better – safer – than you pushing him first.

“You’re right,” he says, slipping both hands in his pockets. “You also implied things could end if I caught an STD.”

Your brow furrows. “Jungkook,” you say, reaching for him. “Just stop. Let’s –”

“I have feelings for someone,” he blurts.

At this, your hand freezes. Jungkook wishes you would touch, aches for the brush of your skin but forces himself to stay silent. It’s too late for reconciliation – he can tell by the flashes of emotion chasing each other across your face. 

Shock, confusion, and where he expects anger, Jungkook finds something far worse – hurt.

“Do… I know her?” 

Jungkook’s heart cracks down the middle. He can’t possibly say that you are her. If he did, you’d be forced to choose between him and Liam, and Jungkook already knows how that’d go. Everyone chooses someone else in the end.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says at last.

You stare at him another moment, causing Jungkook to wonder if you see through him. Then, your expression crumples and you withdraw your hand.

“Right,” you whisper.

Jungkook’s resolve falters. “I just… don’t want to drag this out,” he says, and even to his ears, the words sound weak. “I think it would be better to end things now. Before someone gets hurt.” 

The words are nearly cause for laughter because it’s much too late for that. 

“Right,” you exhale. “Is that why you came here tonight?”

When Jungkook pauses, disappointment settles over your features.

“Well, good,” you say, lifting your chin. “Okay. We said we’d hook up as long as it made sense. If it doesn’t make sense, we should end it.”

Something jerks in his stomach. “Y/N…”

A bitter laugh escapes you, reaching backwards. “Don’t Y/N me.”

“I get that you’re upset, but –”

“Upset?” Your entire body freezes, fury limning your eyes. “I’m not upset, Jungkook – I’m pissed. You avoided me for weeks just to show up at my parents’ party, fuck me in a closet and end this? Which – oh my god,” you say, something like horror crossing your face. “We had sex, Jungkook. What would the woman you supposedly like have to say about that?”

Jungkook’s chest seizes, making breathing difficult. Everything you say is true and already, he can tell he’s going to regret this.

“She’d hate it,” he admits, soft.

You pause, brow furrowing. “Well, okay. As long as you… agree with me?”

Jungkook can only stare at you, helpless. “This is for the best, Y/N. I know that it is. You have Liam, and I – well, I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t have followed you in here. Or kissed you. I –”

“That’s enough,” you snap.

Your chest rises and falls, anger barely restrained when Jungkook falls silent. He knows he crossed a line, and truthfully, he regrets nothing except how things are ending. And maybe the way he left your place that one morning.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well.” You take a deep breath, reaching behind you. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, right? We were casual. Only sex. And now we’re nothing.”

It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t thought before, but your words skewer him in a way he didn’t think possible. Light from the hall floods the closet when you leave, striping the floor with Jungkook’s own shadow.

He allows you to go, knowing it’s for the best as he drags a hand down his face. Exhaling deeply, Jungkook tries to suppress the tears pricking his eyelids.

Logic which once seemed simple now seems indecipherable. Jungkook thought ending things would be cleaner but now, he’s not sure. Did you really want Liam to meet your parents, or did it happen by chance? More importantly – were you planning to end things with Jungkook?

A sliver of uncertainty enters his thoughts, but Jungkook forces himself to move on. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You two are over. He won’t see you again.

The enormity of this crashes over him and suddenly, it’s hard for Jungkook to breathe. He forces himself to inhale, taking slow, shallow breaths until the feeling passes. Eventually, Jungkook opens the closet door and steps into the hall. 

Most of the walk to the car is a blur, only sharpening once he settles into the driver’s seat. Clutching the steering wheel with both hands, Jungkook stares at his knuckles. If you weren’t planning on ending things tonight, that would mean Jungkook has turned into the very person he fears.

Cold, blind, and ultimately – hopeless.

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