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oukabarsburgblr · 7 months ago

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Man in the Elevator [Office AU]

FEATURING : MALE STRANGER (OC) x male reader

As you arrive to work, you find yourself stuck in the elevator with a handsome unknown coworker. Unable to exit, a robotic voice from the intercom announces that to leave the elevator, you'd have to do the despicable. And with a total hot stranger?!

Dubcon, variation of sex pollen kind of fic, male oc x male reader

aftermath

Find out more under the cut!

What kind of porn scenario is this?!

The (h/c) gritted his teeth, tempted to smash the button of the intercom. "...I think someone is just messing with us." He didn't want to turn around, only glancing at the mirror to his left, the only big reflective piece in the small elevator.

A man, handsome (m/n) noted, stood in a nice, ironed black suit, a navy button up and a matching black tie. His skin was pale, spiky and short dark hair, his build strong and quite beefy. He'd look like someone you'd have a crush on at the gym. The expensive one you'd think twice before purchasing a membership.

Daisuke Yuichi.

(m/n) read his name tag as he sighed and crouched down on the elevator floor, hearing the man behind him trying to reassure him.

It was like any other morning, he'd wake up, get ready for his job at any normal office environment and arrive to work using the public railway. Although the normal elevator he would use in the lobby was unusable, scheduled for maintenance, and he opted to use the lower ground one on the west side of the building so he went downstairs to the garage.

He didn't pay any mind when a guy who looks richer than his office acquiantances waited for the elevator beside him and stepped inside as well. It was sudden when the elevator shook and went rigid, not responding when the (h/c) frantically smashed the button to open the elevator.

"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"

The (h/c) felt his stomach dropped as the formal prerecorded voice rang inside the lift. A gasp escaped the stranger behind him as well. "Hey what the fuck? This isn't funny!" He kicked the metal doors, agitated but to no avail.

"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"

"I...This never happened before..." (m/n) turned behind him. The good-looking man had a worried expression. "Can you try calling for maintenance? My phone has no line."

True to his words, the (h/c) could not call anyone for help, limiting his communication to the outside world making him feel more panic inside. "Damn it..."

Currently, every time they pressed any button whatsoever, the same message would repeat, clarifying that someone needs to fuck someone and (m/n) would rather not be involved. Well-

"I'm really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable...I'll stop talking now." The stranger, Daisuke, really tried his best to reaffirm the (h/c) as he sat in the corner, as far as he could but (m/n) ignored him, too annoyed to even talk. It doesn't help that his face was a real beaut too. One of those gentle giants that girls would rave over.

"..." (m/n) didn't speak, annoyed at the whole situation as he remained his crouched stance, crinkling his suit. "Do you...work here too?"

The (h/c) groaned, Daisuke really was a chatterbox, either that or he speaks to calm his nerves. "If it isn't any obvious, then yes. I do work here." He snapped accidentally.

"Sorry. My name is Daisuke! Daisuke Yuichi." Hearing (m/n) respond made Daisuke's tone much lighter, smiling as he held out a hand. The (h/c) grabbed it and shook it lightly. "I know." "Eh? You know me?" "No. I read your nametag." "Oh..."

The ravenette seemed disappointed, (m/n) almost rolled his eyes. Was he supposed to be some hotshot or something?

"Can I know your name?" "(m/n) (l/n)." "That's a nice name." Daisuke's lips form a gentle smile, reaching his eyes. The (h/c)'s face was blank however.

"...so what's the plan?"

(m/n) squinted his eyes at Daisuke, who still had that polite smile on. If he had to describe this new stranger, a polite, neat, rich guy. Other words, a golden retriever, maybe?

"We wait. This can't go on forever." Daisuke pouted and looked the other way to hide his face. He mumbled an 'okay'. (m/n) was horrified. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Was he ready to do the deed with anyone at any time?!

The (h/c) scooted further into the corner, burying his face into his knees. Waiting for the elevator to return to normal or when help somehow miraculously arrived.

Half an hour passed when the intercom suddenly announced that 'assistance' would commence.

"To ease the occurence of an intercouse, external assistance would be provided!"

(m/n) was screaming internally and screamed externally when visible coloured gas came pouring in from the vents. It was heavy from Daisuke's side. "Hey hey! It's okay. We'll be fine." The ravenette held (m/n) by his shoulders when the (h/c) was panicking and thrashing about.

"You're fucking with me right now?! This is absurd!" (m/n) wailed into Daisuke's hold as the ravenette immediately took off his blazer. He grabbed a water bottle and soaked part of his blazer and pressed it into the (h/c)'s face.

"Don't breathe it in. This will help." "What about you?!" (m/n)'s voice muffled against the damp clothing. He only noticed the rising red hue on Daisuke's cheeks and the flush on his neck and ears. He smiled apollogetically. "I think it's a bit too late for me."

The (h/c) blinked owlishly as he glanced at the feverish ravenette's crotch, his mouth screeching when he saw the big hard outline on his slacks. Daisuke sweatdropped as he slumped down against the wall of the elevator.

"Don't worry. I pride myself on my self-control. I'll just...ride it out." Daisuke smiled as he turned his face away, his breathing getting heavier and heavier.

(m/n) couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. He pressed the damp blazer further into his nostrils, the small space being filled up with the gas. He could feel himself getting slightly aroused, although notbas affected as Daisuke.

Said person only faced his body away, panting to himself in the corner while clutching his tie, pulling it loose. The ravenette closed his eyes, humming to distract himself from the growing fervour in his pants.

Daisuke felt bad for the other person in the lift, (m/n) that is. Such a handsome guy too. Wish our introduction was a bit different... Daisuke thought to himself, resisting to look at the (h/c).

"Daisuke..." "Yeah?" He croaked out. The aphrosidiac was really getting to him but he couldn't just pounce on the (h/c). What kind of person would he be then.

He flinched when a (s/c) hand grasped onto his shoulder. "Don't-!" "It's fine." (m/n) hummed, Daisuke's blazer was crumpled in a corner. The ravenette's eyes widened seeing (m/n) willingly inhale the stimulating gas.

"Why did you-" Daisuke went to cover (m/n)'s nostrils but the latter swatted his hand away. "It's...not fair for you. Besides, it's the only way we can get out of here right." The (h/c) straddled the ravenette, Daisuke's face becoming entirely flushed seeing (m/n) in his lap.

"We can do it." (m/n) mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing elsewhere. Daisuke stared at him for a bit before pushing his hips upwards, lightly grinding himself into the (h/c)'s crotch. (m/n) let out a surprise gasp as he clutched the ravenette's shoulders. He panted lightly as he tried to avoid Daisuke's horny gaze.

"....But I don't want to bottom." A vein almost popped on (m/n)'s forehead as he punched Daisuke's bicep. "FUCK OFF!" The ravenette laughed as he wrapped his arms around (m/n). "I'll do my best, (m/n)." He smiled up at the (h/c) who only nodded feverishly, feeling the lust fully taking over.

Daisuke pulled (m/n)'s waist down and began to rub their the (h/c)'s ass on his crotch, elliciting a few gasps from the latter. He could feel his nails digging into his shoulders which only drove his excitement further.

Daisuke unbuckled (m/n)'s belt, earning a whine and pulling his pants down. The (h/c) had never been so grateful that he was wearing nice briefs today. Daisuke palmed his erection, rubbing his thumb over the wet patch on his underwear.

(m/n) instantly pulled off his bottoms and hurriedly pawed at Daisuke's own pants. After their lower halves were bare, the ravenette slid his cock, (m/n) didn't dare to look at how big it was, in between the (h/c)'s ass, slipping and humping their bottoms together.

"Don't just- mmff! Shove it like that! Stroke it first- gah!"

"S-Sorry. Is this- ang ahh! Good for you- mmng!"

Even (m/n) was moving his hips, back and forth to reciprocate Daisuke's movements who was gliding his now wet cock under the (h/c)'s dick, balls and asscrack. (m/n) was confused on how the hell did Daisuke had that many precum as he stroked his own cock, ignoring the staring ravenette.

Everything felt hot and sticky, (m/n) felt every inch of his pores being pressed and melting. His body twitched against Daisuke's, his teeth gritting as he shut his eyes closed, relishing in this sinful hedonism. He flinched when he felt a spurt of wetness hitting his lower back.

"S-Sorry..." Daisuke clenched his teeth, clearly embarrassed of his quick ejaculation. (m/n) ogled the ravenette's face, scanning his reddened cheeks and long eyelashes. The world really did gifted this stranger with a good body and a good face. And the world gave this man to (m/n).

The (h/c) pursed his lips as he mumbled. "You talk too much..." He quickly jacked off his own penis, his hips stuttering when he came, Daisuke holding his waist in place. Cum smeared on Daisuke's clothed torso, littering his navy shit with milky white.

"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" (m/n) yelled at at the intercom, opting to throw his shoe at the button panel. He heard Daisuke chuckle as large hands began rubbing his sides up and down. "We don't have as much as a choice do we?"

The (h/c) slowly turned to see the smiling ravenette before scrunching his nose. "You're doing it from the back."

Hands gripped the cold metal railing, pants escaped from his mouth as it fogged up the mirror in front of him. (m/n) had long discarded his shoes but kept his long-sleeved top on. Daisuke had already unbuttoned his, well-defined abs, fat chest and his happy trail exposed as he pressed his crotch against (m/n)'s bottom.

Both of them were standing, the (h/c) bent over and holding the handrails of one of the two walls it was built in. Daisuke behind him, his large pale hands caressing (m/n)'s back, the latter slapping his hand away. It doesn't help that they just so happened to be in front of a mirror, fortunately for (m/n) it only showed their upper halves.

The ends of (m/n)'s shirt barely covered his behind, he felt Daisuke lightly touching it, Daisuke was thinking whether to move it but decided otherwise.

"Do you mind?" (m/n) looked up to see Daisuke holding two fingers near his face, his back almost touching Daisuke's bare chest. The (h/c) furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Why won't he do it himself?

"I've never done it with a guy before." "So?" The ravenette didn't answer, only pushing his fingers into the corner of mouth, (m/n) reluctanly opening his mouth, the gas influencing most of his decisions currently.

Daisuke began to rub his fingers all over (m/n)'s teeth, gums and his tongue prompting a gagging noise from the (h/c) as he rolled his eyes back. Instinctively, (m/n) began to suck on the thick, rough fingers, licking the padding before swirling his tongue all over his digits as knuckles knocked on his hard palate.

The ravenette's index and middle finger began to piston in and out of (m/n)'s mouth, dragging his saliva back and forth and encouraging choking noises from the (h/c). The bottom's eyesight was getting blurry and he glanced at the mirror to see Daisuke breathing heavily, his face flushed as he shoved his fingers down (m/n)'s throat.

This fucker is really getting off of this. The same could almost be said for the (h/c) who groaned as Daisuke finally pulled out, his fingers dripping with wetness and (m/n)'s throat felt raspy and sore. He flinched as cold fingers tapped on his entrance.

Daisuke tested the waters by gently prying (m/n)'s asshole, slowly pushing his fingers in as the (h/c) shivered. Sweat began to drip off of his face as he felt the ravenette behind him began caressing the inside of his hole, rubbing his walls and slowly pushing deeper and deeper.

"Mmnng just hurry up...please."

It was so teasing to feel the stranger trying to relax his hole by circling his fingers inside his ass. Clearly he wasn't lying when he said this was his first time with a man. "Patience is a virtue. I'll put it in soon." Daisuke teased (m/n) as he tapped his ass gently, the latter feeling heat rise on his face. As soon as they got out of this elevator, he's clocking his face.

Fingers pulled out and (m/n) sighed at the empty feeling in his anus but he heaved and immediately covered his mouth when Daisuke's tip suddenly impaled his entrance. The ravenette shivered as warmth enveloped his penis, he threw his head back and gazed at the mirror to see (m/n) but only found a shaking (h/c) whose head was facing the ground, concealing his expressions.

Daisuke frowned at that, wanting to see (m/n)'s face as he experimentally thrusted the rest of his penis in. He hissed at the tight hole, the (h/c) clenching down on him. The ravenette rubbed circles on (s/c) hips to calm him down as he felt the grip on his dick relaxing.

He let out a breath of relief as he gripped (m/n)'s hips and immediately pushed the rest of his cock in, hearing a muffled squeal from the (h/c). Daisuke grinned and took it as a green light, instantly thrusting in and out of his ass, moaning ardently. "F-Fucking hell. Haanh ha hah you feel so good-"

He took in the sight of his moving crotch and (m/n)'s ass colliding together, getting turned on more at the sight of his dick pounding into the squelching hole. The gas was too good at its job, precum leaking out of the (h/c)'s hole as Daisuke fucked into (m/n) harshly.

(m/n) cupped his mouth with his hand, not wanting to let out any lewd noises but having only little success. His thighs shook every time Daisuke's hips slapped into (m/n)'s behind. He could feel the ravenette's large cock pushing against his walls, filling him up to the brim.

Daisuke frowned at the (h/c)'s shirt as he pushed the fabric upwards, exposing a (s/c) back. A yelp escaped (m/n)'s lips as the ravenette licked a stripe up the (h/c)'s spine. The shock made him cum, semen squirting from his sensitive penis, spraying on the elevator walls.

The sudden tightness made Daisuke groan loudly as he stilled himself inside the (h/c). Unconsciously filling up (m/n)'s hole, the owner whimpered into his hand. "Urgh unh huh are we done-?"

"Required quota has not been achieved! Please try again!"

"Be so fucking for real right now." (m/n) groaned as he rested his head on the cool metal pole, he didn't move as Daisuke pulled out, liquid pulling out of his puffy hole. He could feel Daisuke's stare on his ass, he wiggled away when Daisuke began to poke into his drippy anus with his index finger.

Another wave of aphrosidiac poured into the lift from the vents, making (m/n) wanting to pull his hair out. What kind of sick pervert is making us do all of this??

"So."

The (h/c) let out a noise of shock as Daisuke suddenly hugged him close, pushing him against the mirror and the metail rail. "Can I do more than the back?" He smiled, blinking at (m/n) who stared at him in absurdity. The audacity??

Daisuke remained nonchalant, blinking his black eyes up at (m/n), his long lashes fluttering against his smooth white skin.

"...Fine."

Maybe (m/n) regretted saying that. Daisuke went on for so long, pushing him further up the wall, bringing up his left leg to push it against (m/n)'s chest. Exposing his puckered hole, the ravenette pushed in again, thrusting like a wild animal moaning like crazy in the (h/c)'s ear.

(m/n)'s leg was shaking, struggling to hold himself up on his tippy toes as he endured Daisuke's slams, covering his mouth again. The (h/c) shivered when Daisuke lapped his tongue at his ear, licking the shell and teasing him. He could feel cum from the previous round leaking down his leg.

"Don't cover your mouth please." The ravenette kissed (m/n)'s neck. "I want to hear you. Your voice." Daisuke pressed his lips on his jaw. "Please." He begged the (h/c), fucking himself in deep and slow earning a muffled whine.

His hand trembled before he hesitantly uncovered his mouth, Daisuke's face visibly lit up as he began to pound harder. (m/n)'s high pitched moans drawn out longer with each thrust. His hips shuddered when he felt a hand stroke his cock, pushing his precum out from the base of his dick.

His head was hot, everything felt hot, like he was smothered by a thick layer of warm air. And that warm air was causing him to these sinful things, well that's exactly what's happening.

(m/n) didn't even realised when they both had cummed. Only when Daisuke pulled himself back and began fingering his hole to get his attention. "Mmngg angh ah hn-!" "That's it. Thaaaaat's it."

Daisuke drew out his voice, whispering praise into (m/n)'s ear as he fished his semen in the tight entrance, rubbing his gummy walls. It was either the aphrosidiac had a love spell embedded into it or Daisuke was really attractive. The (h/c) took in his features, his sharp nose, round eyes and nice plump lips.

(m/n) felt like kissing the ravenette. He shook himself sober when he realised he was leaning into Daisuke's face, the latter disappointed when he pulled away.

It's fine if (m/n) doesn't feel like kissing him, Daisuke does. And he'll coax him using sex!

"Required quota has not been achieved! Please try again!"

The next few scenes were a blur to (m/n). All he could remember was that the gas was the thickest for the next hour, and he was moved into all sorts of positions. Daisuke fucked him up a wall, his arms under his knees as he held up the (h/c) like a champ, his muscles sweating as he teared off the rest of his clothing, exposing his bare body to (m/n).

His thrusts began to increase as well, the lust seeping in their veins were at its maximum as they fucked like wild animals in the small elevator. (m/n) whined for more by spreading his legs, biting on Daisuke's neck, nibbling on his skin and leaving marks all over his flushed neck.

Cumming into the (h/c), Daisuke pushed his thighs against the wall, fully spreading (m/n) open, the rim of his hole stretched as it throbbed around the ravenette's dick, massaging it and swallowing it whole. (m/n) no longer held back his voice, openly crying and moaning like a bitch in heat, fully accepting the gas into his system. Daisuke did a long time ago.

The ravenette breathed in (m/n)'s scent in his neck, inhaling before hovering over the (h/c)'s neck with his lips, experimentally kissing it all over. (m/n) bit his lower lip, gazing at the ravenette as he was still held in an embarrassing exposed position.

A pink tongue pressed against (m/n)'s Adam's apple, lapping it up with spit as he bit the skin with his fangs, breaking it. The (h/c) squirmed, mewling in Daisuke's hold. "Stop teasing me..." He muttered, his gaze elsewhere.

Black eyes scan (m/n)'s face before his right hand softly pulled his chin to make eye contact. Daisuke carefully leaned forward, his breath mixing in with (m/n)'s as he leaned in closer and closer, the tips of their noses touching. The (h/c) peered, his eyes moving left and right before stopping, gently blinking as he stared at the face in front of him.

Slowly, Daisuke's face moved lower, his lips brushing against (m/n)'s before full-on pressing them together. The (h/c) closed his eyes, relishing in the soft kiss as he felt his body relaxed in Daisuke's hold.

A swipe at his teeth and (m/n) opened his mouth, Daisuke eager to tie their tongues together, mashing them and coating them with saliva. Drool seeped out of the corner of Daisuke's mouth, he shoved his tongue against (m/n)'s gums, teeth and his palate.

They both ignored the announcement of the intercom as Daisuke lowered them to the floor. (m/n) wrapped his arms around the ravenette's neck, pulling him in closer and Daisuke tilted his head to obtain more access to the (h/c)'s delicious mouth.

The mood changed instantly, even with the gas dissipating, they were still going at it, both on their knees and Daisuke thrusting up into (m/n)'s bottom as he stationed himself behind the (h/c) whose top had been pulled off by Daisuke, exposing his chest. (m/n) moved himself as well, bouncing against Daisuke's thighs, impaling himself over and over, his head turned behind as he continued making out sloppily with the ravenette.

Passionate gasps tore through the small space of the elevator, especially from the (h/c) every time Daisuke thrusted a little too harsh, driving the tip of his cock into the bundle of nerves that drove (m/n) insane, making him see stars just from that small wet touch. Daisuke couldn't stop cumming in (m/n)'s ass. It was so addicting. It wasn't much different from a woman's but (m/n) was so incredible in his eyes.

Fingers rubbed and twisted (m/n)'s nipples, making the latter broke contact from Daisuke's face, a string of spit breaking as the (h/c)'s body shivered when the ravenette pressed his fingers harder. (m/n) jerkily shoved his ass down, tightening himself on Daisuke's cock, the ravenette gasped out and buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders as he immediately spilled cum in (m/n)'s already filled hole.

White semen dripped out onto the floor beneath them, (m/n) moving up and down shallowly on Daisuke's cock, teasing him. The (h/c) wanted more. Daisuke was close to passing out. Tiredly, he fell backwards, lying on the tile floor of the elevator. (m/n) whined as he turned around and crawled over the ravenette.

"Mmm are you done already?" (m/n) complained feverishly. Daisuke's cock was still hard, aphrosodiac working overtime but the owner could barely feel his hips anymore. "...I'm sleepy." He croaked out to which (m/n) frowned.

Daisuke flinched when he felt a tongue swiped across the bulb of his cock. (m/n) ran his tongue up until he reached the tip, sucking on the precious mushroom, licking the slit fervently. He released with a pop as he straddled the ravenette.

Nodding eagerly, he cried out for the (h/c) when his dick was enveloped in a plush warmth. (m/n) grinned lewdly, moving his hips side to side, clearly enjoying the joystick in his ass before he propped himself up with his hands and began to bounce on Daisuke's large cock.

His loud moans resonated in the small space as he threw his head back in pleasure, using Daisuke's penis like a warm dildo. Eyes twitching, his face was covered in sweat, his chin coated with a thin layer of drool and his anus was painted with thinning precum over and over again.

Daisuke's hands reached behind (m/n) and squeezed his plump ass, massaging and pulling at those soft cheeks. He slapped the (h/c)'s butt, earning a whorish moan, as he shamelessly thrusted himself up into (m/n). "C'mon- mmff! Just a bit more- mnggahh!"

Slaps of wet skin reverberated faster as Daisuke continuously smacked the (h/c)'s ass, rubbing his palm over the spot before hitting it again. (m/n) rode the ravenette harder, pressing down harshly, feeling the pit in his stomach burn intensely as he brought his hips up to clench on Daisuke's tip. Repeating the same motion for god knows how long before he came, squirting watery semen on Daisuke's abs.

The ravenette moved his hands to (m/n)'s hips, holding him in place as he pounded up into the (h/c)'s asshole from below, riding out (m/n)'s orgasm who cried out from overstimulation. He groaned and focused on chasing his own high as he slammed himself in and out of (m/n) until he felt himself tipping over the edge.

Daisuke came one last time, although his cum gushed out halfway through his thrust but he persevered and continued humping the (h/c) all while cumming for ten seconds straight.

Both paused, catching their breath before (m/n) collapsed on top of Daisuke, the latter wrapping his arms protectively around the (h/c) as he adjusted himself, making sure he pulled out and patted the (h/c)'s head before promptly passing out on the elevator floor.

(m/n) was still awake, his hands laying on Daisuke's chest as he stared at nothing, his mind blank and his balls empty, although his ass was filled. His eyes widened as he heard the familliar 'ding' of an elevator as he turned back to see the doors opening, revealing the garage they had came from earlier.

"Daisuke wake up! It's open!" He shook the ravenette in an attempt to wake him up but the latter only groaned and continued to remain in his dreamless slumber. (m/n) frowned as he hurriedly pried himself away Daisuke's strong hold.

He quickly dressed himself to the best of his abilities and donned on Daisuke's clothes onto the ravenette, not wanting him to get caught in a naked manner. Fixing his shoes, he collected himself and avoided the wet spots and quickly exited the elevator, wincing in every two steps he took.

With a final glance back to Daisuke, (m/n) hurriedly left the area, reminding himself not to use that same elevator ever again.

"(m/n)! Someone's looking for you."

The (h/c) looked up from his cubicle as he stood and approached his supervisor, the one who had called for him earlier. It had been two days since the incident. (m/n) lied to his boss, saying that he had overslept and took a sick day the next morning, not wanting to run into any weird shenanigans ever again. Especially the ravenette.

He tried asking his coworkers about some mysterious lift that's possessed by a sex demon but all he received was recommendations to a psychologist.

Stepping into a meeting room, guided by his supervisor, he was ushered inside and was immediately left alone, not noticing the other person in the room. "Hey! What's that for?" (m/n) pulled the door knob, knocking on the wooden surface.

"It's for me. I asked them to."

(m/n) froze, remembering the familliar voice. The voice he fucked two days ago in that really weird elevator. The same person he left alone, lying on the floor in a desperate attempt to save his own face.

"It wasn't hard to convince my father to search for you, you might know him. He's the CEO after all." Daisuke shrugged, playfully pulling the (h/c)'s tie, twirling it around his finger. He paused and smiled at (m/n).

"I miss you."

The (h/c) didn't know what to say and he opted to turn himself back around, not facing the ravenette as he tugged on the knob much more aggresively. Daisuke laughed as he pulled (m/n), who screeched and squirmed, into a hug.

"I wanna take you out, (m/n)! Even though we already skipped a couple of steps, I'd love for us to go on a date."

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

Oml i love it if the reader is a tad bit sassy or just an untouchable (not shy) beauty HEHE

OR WHEN LIKE THE TOP MOANS??? LIKE U WAN ME THAT BAD?? HEHEHHEEH

this the same daisuke that was in my ybc gangbang fic btw hoho and by Office AU means that this is not their official like storyline that i want, it's just an AU where they fucked in a horny elevator

I would describe Daisuke Yuichi as someone who's rich AF, daddy's boy (as in father is so protective of him), nice and polite (although everyone has a dark side 😉), kinda needy and demanding but in a "i dont want to say it so im just hinting it until u say yes" kinda way. The only character i would describe that looks like him the most (hair term) is kashima yuu💀. I hope u look forward to see him more!

more of daisuke yuichi! ☾

aftermath , profile

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reiderwriter · 9 months ago

Note

If your requests are open could I get a fic where Spencer lost his virginity to bau!reader the night before and when he comes into work the next day Morgan is like ‘you look different’ (you know that stereotype that people you know well can tell when you lose your virginity) and bau!reader is like yeah you do why is that Spencer🤨 lmaoo

A/N: This was a really fun request to write! Nice, short and sweet! I hope you enjoy it~♡

Warnings: implied sexual encounter, some suggestive talk, mentions of virginity.

Masterlist || Song Fic Challenge

“Wait, kid, hold up, something’s different. You get a haircut or what?”

You tried your best not to giggle profusely as the blush crept up Spencer’s neck to sit prettily across his cheeks. It had only been an hour since you'd left him sleeping soundly in your bed after a night of well… ravaging him.

Spencer Reid, your beautiful, awkward, nerdy, and charming coworker was no longer a virgin. Nor was he single. And surprisingly, he wasn't all that bad at sex either, a little cautious, but for all intents and purposes, quite the natural.

He certainly hadn't turned into a sex god over night, but you did plan to accost him rather regularly from that point onwards, so you very much were enjoying the abject look of horror passing over his features at that moment.

“I was running late this morning. My alarm didn't go off.”

You stifled a giggle, knowing that his alarm probably had gone off. He'd just been in a completely different apartment and hadn't heard it. Maybe it was still going off now.

When his eye caught yours, he froze still in a flush. It was impossible not to run tour gaze along the length of his body, showing him enough quiet appreciation you thought he'd drop to his knees.

Instead, his hands that were wrestling with his tie fidgeted more, finding it impossible to tie the damn thing like he had every morning for the last five years.

“Having some trouble, Spencer? Maybe I could help you out?” You winked at him to punctuate your question, and all he could do was stand and gulp down a breath, nodding in agreement.

“You do look pretty tired, kid? Long night?” Derek asked, a quiet bemused look hanging on his face. He'd had this same conversation with Reid at least four times in the last year, assuming that every time he came in looking slightly dishevelled, he'd enjoyed a night of pleasure.

It had certainly been pleasing to you, and you were absolutely going to help teasing Reid if you got the chance. You certainly enjoyed doing just that last night.

Grabbing the two ends of his tie and pulling him a step closer to Reid - maybe a bit too close for two people in their place of work - you began righting all of his clothes.

“You didn't wake me up,” he whispered with a pout into your ear, his pout audible even as he tried to keep his face neutral.

“I tried,” you whispered back. “But every time I got close, you lunged for me in your sleep and started grinding your morning wood into my ass.”

The flush that you enjoyed so much was now a fully glowing face. He was so red you expected steam to pour from his ears any minute.

You finish knotting his tie and brush his shirt a little, just as Derek clears his throat again.

“Kid, did you hear me? I asked if you had a long night.”

Spencer's gaze didn't leave yours, though. Even in his embarrassment, he was so intently focused on you that it nearly set your entire body on edge.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied, his gaze dropping to your lips. You wished they hadn't, because now you had to stop yourself from jumping him right there in the bull pen.

“Oh shit,” Derek couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled up in his chest as he stood looking from you to Spencer and then back to you.

“Oh shit. Spencer, I didn't know you had game like that.” His words were wheezed out between fits of laughter, and you were irritated when the focus in Spencer's gaze shattered, settling into a look of discontent.

“Derek, come on…” he groaned, and you put your hand gently on his chest to get him to look at you again.

“Next time, I'll work my hardest to wake you up, Spencer.”

With his jaw hanging open in shock, you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving him stood like a statue as Derek bent over in laughter, trying to catch his breath.

You smiled in your final triumph just as Emily walked over to greet the two men and opened with a question.

“Weren't you wearing that outfit yesterday, Reid?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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chloewriteswhenshewantsto · 5 months ago

Text

Afterglow

Authors Note: It’s me. Hi. I’m back with another attempt at “writing”. This is an angsty one this time. I felt I should learn to write something that pulls at the heartstrings. I hope this doesn’t disappoint.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Period Specific Sexism

Word Count: 2.9K

Anthony looks up from his desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he calls out a gruff. "Who is it?"

The rain outside continues to batter the windows, the sound muffled but still audible through the thick oak door of his office.

Anthony's expression softens immediately as he sees you standing in the doorway. He smiles, setting down his pen and pushing himself away from the desk.

"Love, what are you doing up at this hour?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks over to you. "You should be in bed."

“I couldn’t fall asleep without you.” you admit sheepishly. “The bed doesn’t feel the same without you in it.”

Anthony's smile widens, his heart swelling with a tender affection as he hears your admission. He steps closer to you, his hands coming up to tenderly frame your face.

"You know I'd rather be in bed with you too, darling," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with tiredness. "But the ledgers won't balance themselves, I'm afraid."

“Surly you can do them in the morning, you’ve been working so hard lately, my love.”

Anthony lets out a weary sigh, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he holds your gaze.

"You know I'd love nothing more, sweetheart," he admits, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "But there's so much work to do. I've been neglecting my duties, thanks to our trip to the country"

“You have been in here all day, it is past midnight surly you can rest now.” you say frustratedly. Your husband is a hard worker, but the dark circles under his eyes betray him. He needs to rest.

Anthony flinches slightly at the tone in your voice, the frustration in your words evident. He lets out another sigh, his hands dropping from your face and going to his hips.

"I know I've been working late, darling," he says, his voice quieter now. "But there's just so much to do. The ton relies on me to keep the estate running smoothly, and with the ball coming up, there's so much to prepare for-"

“Then let me help you lighten the load, I might not know how to balance the books but teach me I am a quick learner. Surly two heads will be better than one.” you say, pleading with your husband to let you help ease his burden.

It is not a woman’s job to deal with finances, you know this, and your husband is a proud man that will want to take the pressure off everyone but himself. You can only hope that he is too tired to argue with you tonight.

Anthony hesitates for a moment, torn between his natural instinct to handle everything himself and the desire to please you.

"Darling, it's not your job to help me with all this," he starts hesitantly, his gaze flickering between you and the papers scattered on his desk. "I'm supposed to take care of everything, that's my responsibility as the viscount-"

“And what of my responsibility as your wife?” you interrupt him sharply. “Is it not part of my duties to help you when you are struggling.”

Anthony falls silent for a moment, your sharp words cutting through the air like a knife. He looks at you carefully, his expression a mixture of surprise and contemplation.

"Of course it is," he admits quietly, his shoulders deflating a fraction. "Be that as it may, these are things that I'm supposed to handle, sweetheart. The estate, the financial planning-"

“I wish to help, I wish to spend time with my husband outside this office!” you frustratedly plea.

Anthony's expression darkens, his shoulders tensing as he struggles to keep his own temper in check.

"You know I wish I could spend more time with you, darling," he snaps back.

"You think I don't want that too?" he retorts, his voice rising slightly. "You think I enjoy spending every waking moment in this damn office, bogged down by paperwork and figures? But it's my job, my responsibility-"

Anthony continues to rant, his frustration and exhaustion getting the better of him as he snaps at you.

"I don't need another problem to deal with. I don't need you hovering over me, trying to help, when I'm the one who has to carry the weight of this estate on my shoulders. You're already distracting me enough as it is."

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep.

"You need to stop being so bloody needy!" he snaps, his tone sharp and frustrated. "I'm doing the best I can, but there's only so much I can handle! You're asking me to do the impossible. Besides, what on earth could you possibly know about running an estate? All you know is dresses and tea parties and silly little gossip rings, you don't know the first thing about what I’m going through-"

Anthony immediately regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth, his eyes widening in alarm as he realizes the damage his words have done. His lack of sleep and his patience that has been holding on by a thread that has finally snapped.

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep into your heart.

Anthony's face softens immediately as he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. His anger and frustration disappear, replaced by regret and guilt as he realizes the impact of his words.

"Wait, darling, I didn't-" he starts, reaching out a hand towards you.

“I am sorry I didn’t realise I was another problem that you had to deal with, my lord.” you say stonily, taking a step back from his reach. “I shall leave you be.”

Anthony winces at your formal address, the coldness in your tone cutting through him like a knife.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant-" he tries to explain, his voice filled with remorse.

Anthony stands there, frozen, as the door swings shut behind you. The sound of the rain outside is suddenly deafening, drowning out the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

"Shit," he mutters, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. "I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it...fuck." he curses out, swiping the papers of his desk in anger.

Anthony storms over to the corner of the office, pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. He downs it in one gulp before pouring himself another, the whiskey burning its way down his throat and into his stomach. He paces the room, his mind a maelstrom of guilt and self-recrimination.

Anthony spends most of the night in his office, drowning himself in paperwork and the bottle of whiskey by his side. He tries to focus on the figures in front of him, but his mind keeps drifting back to you.

He can still hear the echo of your hurt and angered voice in his ears, the way you'd shut the door behind you with a sharp click. It pains him how callous and cold he'd been to you, how he'd let his frustration spill out in the worst possible way…

As the first rays of sunlight start to filter through his office windows, Anthony finally falls asleep at his desk, head resting on his arms, his dreams plagued with visions of you. Countless apologetic notions fill his thoughts, he will make things better. He has too.

———————————————————————

Anthony groans, as daylight makes its way through his office windows. Lifting his head off the desk, memories of last night come rushing back, and with them, the sharp pang of guilt. His head is pounding from the liquor, his neck aching from the awkward position he slept in. He sits up, rubbing his temples with a weary groan, the events of the previous night playing over in his mind on repeat.

"Bloody hell," he mutters to himself, shoving a hand through his disheveled hair.

Anthony spots a maid walking down the hall as he emerges from his office, his expression still weary and guilt-ridden. He stops her, and with a gruff in his voice from tiredness, he asks her.

"Excuse me, have you seen my wife this morning? Where is she?"

The maid, a young woman with a cheerful smile, gives Anthony a puzzled look as he stops her in the hallway.

"Good morning, my lord," she says, a little taken aback by his weary and disheveled appearance.

Anthony runs a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it but failing.

“I have not seen the viscountess this morning, my lord. Would you like me to check with the other maids on her whereabouts?” she respectfully responds.

His heart sinks at the maid's response. He had hoped that he would find you wandering the halls, ready for him to apologize and make things right. But instead, he is left with a sense of confusion and growing dread as to your whereabouts.

"Yes, please. Anything you can find out would be greatly appreciated. I need to speak with her urgently." he says tiredly.

The maid nods her head in understanding as Anthony dismisses himself to ascends the stairs with a heavy heart, his mind still spinning with guilt and worry. As he reaches the door to his bedroom, he hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath as he mentally prepares himself to face you.

He quietly pushes the door open, peering into the bedroom to see if you are there.

Anthony's heart drops as he sees that the bed is still made and empty. You are nowhere to be found, and he immediately starts to panic.

"Damn it, where is she?" he mutters, stepping further into the room as he looks around frantically trying to find clean clothing to change into.

Stepping out of his room, Anthony runs through the hallways of the estate, calling out your name frantically as he looks in every room and corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly. He checks the library, the study, the drawing room, anywhere he can think of where you might be, but you are nowhere to be found.

"Damn it, where are you?" he repeats, his voice ragged and desperate. "Please, love, where are you?"

As Anthony is running through the estate, he is stopped by a staff member who approaches him urgently. His eyes immediately snap to theirs, a flicker of hope and desperation in his gaze.

"What is it? Where is she?" he asks urgently, his voice betraying his anxiety.

Anthony listens intently to the staff member's words, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears the words "gardens". Without a moment's hesitation, he spins on his heel and takes off in that direction, his steps quick and determined.

Anthony's heart stutters in his chest as he sees you, tucked away in a tranquil corner of the gardens, reading a book. Relief floods through him, but it is quickly replaced by guilt and worry. He pauses, watching you for a moment, his eyes taking in your figure, the sight of you a balm to his weary heart.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and starts to walk towards you. Your eyes meet his, and he is struck by the sight of you, sitting there under the tree, reading like nothing had happened between you. His heart clenches in his chest, and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

“I suppose so, if you are not too busy that is.” you dryly respond looking up at him.

Anthony flinches slightly at the cold tone in your voice, but he doesn't blame you for being angry. He takes a seat on the grass next to you, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion and regret.

"I am never too busy for you," he replies softly, his gaze fixed on yours. "I... I wanted to talk to you, to apologize for last night."

Your expression does not give him hope that this will be an easy conversation for them to have. Feeling nervous he gestures towards the book in your lap, his expression softening.

"May I ask what you're reading?" he inquired, his voice quieter now, almost nervous.

“It is a book on mathematics, I thought it would be smart to fill my brain with things other than dresses and endless gossip.” you respond hitting back at him for his earlier words.

He winces at your words, his shoulders visibly tense as he absorbs the sting in them. He knows he deserves it, after everything he said to you last night. But still, the reminder of his careless words hurts.

"I deserved that," he admits quietly, his eyes downcast. "And I am sorry, for what I said yesterday. It was careless and cruel, and I didn't mean it, truly. You are not another problem, love. You are my partner, my wife. I was just... frustrated, overwhelmed."

Releasing a sigh you meet his eyes. You can see how tired he looks, how vulnerable.

“I know that, which is why I wanted to help. I never meant to become another issue that you had to deal with when you are already so busy.”

Anthony's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes. He reaches out a hand, tentatively resting it on your knee.

"You are not an issue," he says firmly. "You are the furthest thing from it. I was out of line, love, and I'm sorry. I... I should have let you help, should have been grateful that you cared enough to ask. I know how difficult it is for you, sitting at home while I'm stuck in that office day in and day out."

“You hurt me you know, with your words,” you say sadly. “I went to bed alone last night and I cried for what seemed like hours. Then I thought of how angry I was with your stubbornness, so I woke up this morning and went straight to the library because as much as I am upset with you I still love you too much to see you end up in an early grave because you worked yourself to death.”

Anthony's heart clenches as he hears your words, knowing he is the cause of your pain. He lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on your knee as he hangs his head in shame.

"I know," he says quietly, his voice thick with regret. "And I don't blame you for being angry with me, I was a fool for saying those things to you. You have no idea how much I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. I hurt you, and for that, I am truly sorry. Tell me how can I make it better."

“If you wish to make things up to me you may sit with me and teach me what you know of accounts. I do not wish to have this argument again so I wish to know so I may lend a hand when you truly need it.”

Anthony's eyes widen in surprise at your suggestion, but he quickly composes himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He nods slowly, his hand still resting on your knee, a warm and reassuring presence.

"I'd be happy to teach you," he says softly. "And I promise, I will never be that careless again, love. I'll ask for your help next time, I swear it."

“Hmmm, you better.” you gently smile at him. “Also if I am to help you I would like a desk. A large one.”

Anthony chuckles weakly at your request, a mix of relief and amusement at your stubbornness. He nods, his gaze fixed on you.

"Of course, love. You'll have your very own desk, right next to mine. And I'll make sure to explain everything to you, I promise."

You lean over to kiss him gently. Placing a hand on his cheek. You can never stay mad at him for long you blame his face.

“You know if we are to spend more time together in your office, we might need to think of a way to destress after all our hard work.”

Anthony raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Oh, and what do you suggest we do to... 'destress', love?" he asks, his voice dropping lower, a hint of something dark and suggestive in his tone.

“Hmmm something like this prehaps.” you say as you climb upon his lap giggling.

Anthony's breath hitches as you climb onto his lap, and he instinctively puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His eyes darken with desire as he looks up at you, a smirk on his lips.

"I like the way you think, love," he laughs, his hands traveling up your waist.

The staff can't help but overhear the sound of laughing and joyous voices coming from the gardens, and a wave of relief washes over them. After all, witnessing the viscount and viscountess argue and bicker wasn't a comforting sight for them. As they continue about their work, they can't help but feel glad that the tension between you and Anthony has been lifted, replaced instead by playful banter and laughter. A happy couple suited the viscount and viscountess a far lot better than a bickering one.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton #taylor swift #lover #afterglow #taylor swift lyrics

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honeyed-hedonist · 5 months ago

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Parings: Jason Todd x afab!Reader Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: SMUT—MINORS DNI. mentions of blood, gore, and violence, oral (f & m receiving), lots of teasing, degradation (jason todd is a big meanie), a lil bit of a size kink if you squint (hims a big, big boy), an obscene amount of dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, jason has multiple orgasms (he’s got stamina, baybee), creampie, cum swapping, and, as always, declarations of love (barf). A/N: I wrote this for my sweet baby angel @heli0s-writes in a little fic swap we’re having because we like to scream at each other about all the fictional men we want to rail us into a pulp. I love you! I hope this makes your brain melt. Tehe 😈 (Reposting from my former blog)

IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.

Jason Todd is a menace. The absolute bane of your existence.

Who does he think he is banging on your door at 3:45 in the morning? As if your neighbors needed another reason to gossip about you. Nevermind all the probing questions that were poorly masked as casual conversation when you were using the on-site laundry room or grabbing your mail. If you had to hear “So, you and Red Hood, huh?” one more time, you were going to rip your hair out.

But Jason has always been brazen—not much has changed since the day you found him bleeding out in an alley between your apartment building and the pet shelter next door. He had a gunshot wound, lacerations over damn near every square inch of him, his mask all but shattered and exposing most of his face to you as you did your best to haul his massive frame up from the ground to drag him inside and patch him up. He had grinned at you the entire time, flirted with you while you fished the bullet out, asked you to dinner as you wiped the grit and grime off of his neck and chest. He hasn’t left you alone since.

You love him, of course. How can you not? He’s 6’4” of muscled steel, all wrapped up in a handsome, roguish bow with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. Any woman alive would be hard-pressed to resist his charms and you’re no exception, but it’s difficult to remember those warm, fuzzy feelings when he’s pounding on your door hard enough to wake the dead.

With bleary eyes, you unlatch the locks and yank it open, hissing at him as you fist your hand into the lapel of his jacket and tug him inside, ignoring the wide-eyed look on your neighbor’s face from across the hall. Your annoyance is overshadowing the rest of your senses, so you don’t see the tent in his pants, don’t notice his lust-blown pupils when he shucks his helmet off and throws it aside. Instead, you whirl on him, an accusatory finger pointed squarely at his chest in preparation to scold him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why couldn’t you just come in through the window? I keep it unlocked for this exact reason, Jason! You stubborn fucking ass—mmph!” His mouth is on you instantly—demanding and desperate as he crashes his lips into yours, uninterested in hearing your lecture. His gloved hands lift you off the floor in one fluid motion that has you instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips. You feel it then, the heavy, hard length of him trapped between your bodies and you gasp, an action that he capitalizes on by shoving his tongue past your teeth and into the back of your throat.

The tang of coppery blood fills your mouth and has you retreating, pushing back on his chest to look at him, but he’s right there chasing your mouth, walking blindly towards your kitchen table to set you down. “Jay—honey, wait. Are you—fuck!” His teeth are sharp against your throat, silencing your protest with the harsh sting of pain, grunting as he grinds his hips between your spread thighs.

“Shut up,” He growls, voice low and dangerous, sending your synapses into overdrive, drowning out what little restraint you have left. “Need to be inside you. Need to hear those sweet sounds, baby, just—let me.” Jason’s fingers are shaking when he moves to peel your shirt off, and you know it’s the adrenaline, that he’s high from the violence of his nightly patrol, teetering on the edge of losing control. These nights, you think, are the ones he needs you the most—seeking salvation with your body, tunneling his way to absolution with powerful thrusts of his hips, because if you can love all the fucked up parts of him, can love him even after all of his mistakes, then maybe, in his mind, he’s worth something afterall.

So you nod, your own hands making quick work of the kevlar and leather he’s covered in, helping him shed layer after layer of it off until he’s bare chested and heaving with labored breaths. It’s then that you notice the gashes that cut diagonally across his collarbone, the skin ripped in a way that makes you shudder. Claws? A serrated knife? You can only imagine the kind of monsters he grappled with tonight. His chest is smeared with congealed, drying blood, a trail of it leading down his stomach, seeping into his briefs and tactical pants, staining the tuft of coarse, dark hair that leads to his pubic bone an ugly shade of rust.

His eyes have turned shark-like—a depthless obsidian that makes him look possessed, the usual crystalline blue almost completely eclipsed by his blown out pupils. You should be terrified by the sight, the danger lurking within that endless dark, but your demons have always called to his, so all it does is stoke the flames now licking their way down your spine to pool between your legs. His gaze shifts the second your hands fall to your panties, exhaling a shaky breath as you try to wiggle out of them, to grant him access to the part of you that only he gets to explore.

Jason snarls then, swatting your hands away to rip the flimsy strip of cotton clean off, tossing it over his shoulder where it floats delicately to the floor in shredded ribbons of fabric. And then he’s on his knees, dropping to your floor with a loud thud that has the knick knacks hanging on your walls tinkling with vibration from the force of his herculean frame hitting the laminate. He scoots closer, boots scuffing your floor, the heat of his stare now focused on your puffy slit. Every exhale is a rumbling growl, hot breath fanning out against your pussy as he inches closer and you bite your lip, ready to muffle the sound you know he’s going to tear from your throat the second he puts his mouth on you.

Warm, calloused hands skate up the insides of your thighs, throwing them open even wider to accommodate the width of his shoulders when he leans in. Jason’s nose settles against your slit and he inhales, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. It leaves you frozen in place, barely breathing when you watch his eyes roll back with pleasure. It sends your pulse straight to your clit and you whimper, the sound acting as a catalyst for him to dive in tongue-first and lick a wet stripe through your folds. He moans at the taste of you, a deep, salacious vibration of sound that rattles your bones. It has you hooking your hands around the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip, mouth slack when Jason’s deft tongue and plush lips begin to work you over.

He’s precise and purposeful when he eats you out—applying just the right amount of pressure, finding the perfect moments to snag that bundle of nerves with his teeth, gumming at your velvety cunt with his mouth, his tongue attuned to your every need. It takes him no time at all until you’re whining, begging like a god damn harlot, your fingers wound harshly into the roots of his hair, pulling him in, fucking yourself on his face. His girl. Perfect and needy, just the way he likes you.

But, again, Jason Todd is a fucking menace, glancing up at you with that wild look in his eyes, clocking the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the way you’ve got him pressed so deeply between your legs that he can barely breathe—he knows you’re close, can feel your thighs trembling against his ears. He waits, feasts on you until your eyes roll back into your skull, until he knows you’re about to rocket into a release—and then he stops, withdraws his mouth—a mouth that’s glistening with evidence of your pleasure, and offers you a sadistic smile.

“You thought I was gonna let you cum, princess?” He goads, swatting at your pussy hard enough that it sends you reeling, your body jerking with a yelp. “Nah…Tonight you cum on my cock and nowhere else.” Jason rocks back on his heels and stands, towering over you, crowding your space as he takes your jaw in his hand, his grip hard and unforgiving. “Do you understand me?”

There’s a war happening in your mind, because you know he needs this control, know he’s standing on a very dangerous ledge and you have to tread carefully, but fuck if you don’t want to cop an attitude, push him right off that cliff just to see what he’ll do. Seconds tick by like minutes, his eyes bouncing between yours, expectancy evident on his handsome face while you contemplate how much you value the use of your legs and whether you’ll need them tomorrow.

“I don’t take orders from you, Todd,” You spit, jerking your chin free from his hold. Curiosity has clearly gotten the better of you, and the fire your response sets ablaze in Jason’s eyes has your stomach flipping. His mouth curls into a wicked little smirk, and then you feel that same hand of his wrap around your throat and squeeze; hard.

He bends forward, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear, tongue tracing the edge of the cartilage. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, hmm?” Your breath hitches at the gravel in his tone, and now you know without a doubt that you won’t be doing any walking tomorrow, let alone moving. Thank god you have some PTO saved up.

Jason’s spine straightens when he yanks you off the table, the movement so fast you don’t have enough time to process what’s happening until your ass hits the floor and you wince. “Well, would ya lookit that.” He mocks, palm slapping against your cheek before he’s hooking two fingers into your mouth to suppress your tongue. “Since you’re down there already—might as well make yourself useful, yeah?”

Fuck. Sometimes you forget the cruelty he’s capable of, the way he can talk so mean, degrade and embarrass you for the sake of your shared pleasure. It’s exactly what you asked for, and he always delivers. With blush stained cheeks, your face pinched in a glare, you reach for his pants, popping the button open, tugging the zipper down, and shucking the blood-stained bottoms and cotton briefs to his knees. What you’re met with has your jaw working, saliva pooling behind your teeth because goddamn is he hung.

Jason is fucking massive everywhere, so it goes without saying that his dick would carry some weight, but it still astonishes you every single time you see it. Bobbing invitingly in your face, angry red at the tip and oozing precum, veins prominent and pulsing along the shaft just begging for attention, his cock sits proudly above an even heftier set of balls, and you clench remembering just how good they feel smacking your sensitive clit when he pounds you out from behind.

His fingers are still playing against your tongue, sliding over the wet muscle until he breaches the back of your throat and you choke. There’s drool seeping past his knuckles, dribbling onto your chest, and he hums his approval, eyes glittering with the promise of what’s to come. One last pass of his calloused digits before he’s angling his tip and pushing his length into the wet heat of your mouth with a grunt. “This is a much better use for that mouth of yours, don’t you agree, princess?” Jason coos at you, pressing forward until your eyes screw shut, tears trickling down your cheeks when his cock seats itself deep in your esophagus. “That’s a good girl—open up that throat for me. Yeah, just like that—fuck.”

Soggy, spit covered fingers curl against the crown of your head as Jason begins to thrust, fucking your mouth. Your eyes are blurry, crossing each time he bottoms out, breathing harshly through your nose with every withdrawal, your palms digging into the meat of his thighs to keep you steady, to keep you rooted enough to take his assault. Over and over again he drives his hips forward, the slippery sound of the suction of your lips is so fucking obscene it makes you moan. That filthy, wet squelch ringing out as more saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth, bubbling up in sloppy arcs that web between your chin and his cock, matting into his pubic hair, commingling with the remnants of his blood.

You’re sure your face is stained pink from it by now, and you couldn’t care less, not when Jason’s face is twisted so beautifully above you—jaw slack and cheeks red, sweat marring his brow, hair curling at his temples and the nape of his neck. He looks so goddamn pretty when he loses himself in you like this that it makes the ache in your throat worth it, makes tomorrow’s hoarseness a welcome battlescar if only for the vision of him lost in the throes of violent passion above you right now. “Shit—m’gonna cum, princess. S’too good, I can’t—”

You slip your hand beneath your chin, between your bodies, cupping his balls, teasing them, rolling them in your palm, and he roars, bottoming out to cum down your throat. His cock pulses against your tongue and you wiggle it against his length appreciatively, humming while you swallow down spurt after spurt of milky semen until he’s pulling out with a hiss. Jason’s big hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up while he huffs. “Best little cocksucker, baby, but I’m nowhere near finished with you yet.”

Before you can blink. Jason hauls you up and deposits you right back onto the kitchen table, throwing your legs open. Letting out a low whistle, he drags the pad of his thumb up through your folds, swiping over your throbbing clit with a chuckle. “Such a pretty little pussy, hm? So eager, so fuckin’ desperate, clenching around nothing at all. You just wanna be full, don’t you?” He goads, slotting his hips between your thighs, letting the heavy weight of his dick slap against your sensitive pearl until you’re mewling, fingernails biting into his forearms.

“Jay—please,” You whine, your voice scratchy and rough, and he shakes his head, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes make a slow trek up to meet yours.

“After your little performance? Not a chance, sweetheart. I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready, but for now? For now you’re gonna put on a show for me. Let me see how you stuff that needy cunt when I’m not here.” He smirks viciously down at you, wrapping his fist around his length, pumping slow and languid while your face heats with embarrassment.

The weight of his stare presses down on you, hot and heavy, as you guide a trembling hand between your legs, fingers dipping through your slick, peeling your lower lips apart with a breathy sigh. Despite his bravado, you know how bad he wants to be buried in your heat, cock shoved so deep that the tip batters against your cervix. It’s that thought alone that spurs you on, two fingers pushing into that wet, hungry hole with a moan. You hook them upwards, seeking, pressing against that tender little spot that makes your back arch, fucking yourself while he watches, his muscles coiled in waiting like a predator about to strike. It’s maddening—no matter how fast or how hard your fingers work into your pussy, it’s not enough, it’s never enough and he knows it.

“Feels good, huh, princess?” Jason huffs, pumping his dick while he watches you, taunting you with his words. “But you want more—can see it on that pretty face. Those little fingers just don’t cut it, do they? Course not, you need more. Need this fat cock, don’t you?” The whine that pours out of your throat is meek and pathetic, because he’s right and you can’t hide from him—not when you’re splayed out so beautifully like this.

How many nights have you spent lying on your sheets chasing an unsatisfying release at your own hands. It’s never as good as it is with him, because Jason knows you. Knows all the ways to make you keen and writhe and burst. “Go on,” He says, “let me hear you say it. Beg me real nice and I might give you what you want.”

God damn him, you think, because he never makes it easy, not on nights like this when the battle is still fresh in his mind, when the adrenaline is still plowing through his veins. And god damn you if it doesn’t light you right up, heating the already charged air between you both. Your head falls back with a thud against the table and he tuts at you, pulling your gaze back where he wants it—on him. There’s a lump in your throat despite your fingers still working your cunt, the shame of having to beg both igniting your desire and stoking the fire of your petulance. Gritting your teeth, you spit the words he wants to hear at him with indignant venom. “Please, Jason. Want—need your cock. Fuck me, baby, just—” He chuckles darkly, free hand moving to grip your chin, his thumb stroking the hinge of your jaw.

“Oh, I think you can do better than that.” Jason sucks a breath in through his teeth, his handsome face scrunched up with pleasure, and you catch sight of his other thumb swabbing over the tip of his cock, still rock hard and leaking between his clenched fist. “Try again.”

“Fuck!” You spit, fingers soaked as they dive in and out of your pussy with delicious friction. Swallowing what remains of your stubborn pride, you gaze at Jason from beneath your lashes, your eyebrows furrowing, features turning soft and pleading. “Please, baby,” Your voice lifts an octave higher—whiney, simpering—and it works. Jason groans, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Fuck me, baby. Please fuck me. Need you, need that cock—please? M’so empty without it. Wanna cum all over you, Jason. Please!”

“That’s my girl,” He croons, tilting his head to capture your mouth in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else, distracting you enough that you cling to him, fingers carding through his hair while the head of his cock prods through your slit until it catches on your opening and he drives his hips forward, stretching you apart in one powerful, rough thrust.

It forces a scream from your throat that he swallows, bottoming out until his pelvis rests flat against the pocket of fat above your pussy. “Fuck—give me your fingers, baby. Put ‘em in my mouth.” Jason commands, and you know exactly what he wants, bringing your damp middle fingers up to his face, letting him suck the remnants of your efforts from your skin. You watch, hypnotized, as his eyes roll back and he starts to move, his teeth sinking into the digits while he fucks you.

There’s nothing quite like having a cunt full of Jason Todd. The sting that comes from the sheer size of his dick, the way it stretches you to your very limits, those gummy walls forced open wide to accept every angry stab of his length. He bullies his cock into you, pounds hard enough that your kitchen table slides across the floor with each stroke. But he follows right along with it, hammering into you while his tongue slides between your fingers, sucking on them like a damn pacifier. It’s sinful, filthy, and raw—makes you absolutely feral, crying out for him over and over again, free hand dragging harsh lines down his muscled back so hard you’re certain you’ve broken the skin.

“Mhmm,” he hums, letting your fingers fall from his mouth. “I know, baby. I fucking know—swear to god you were made for me. Take my cock so fucking well—shit!” He growls, righting his posture and reaching for your ankles. Jason locks both of them in one hand, closing your thighs together, making you even tighter, the fat lips of your pussy peeking out between your legs. The sight has Jason grunting like a wild animal. “That’s my pussy, huh?” He asks and you nod, completely lost to the mind-numbing pleasure he’s supplying. “Know it is. Always gonna be mine, baby. Gonna ruin this little cunt for anyone else. Gonna wreck it.”

The world shrinks until it’s just you and Jason, no concern for your neighbors who can undoubtedly hear the way your kitchen table knocks against the wall every time he pounds his dick into your pussy, not a single care other than him and the way he loves you—the brutal way he fucks you. Resting both of your legs against the side of his chest that isn’t cut open, he hugs them close, looks down at you, and god, you’ve never seen him quite like this. It’s mesmerizing.

And then he’s spreading your legs, pushing your shins up and into your chest, folding you in half. The new angle sends his cock even deeper, and you let out another rapturous cry, each stroke pummeling your cervix. He shushes you, fingers mashing your cheeks together in a tight grip. “Eyes on me, princess. Wanna see you fall apart.”

So you watch, helpless and at his mercy, when his free hand wedges between your legs, fingers seeking out the place where you’re stretched around his dick, stroking it lovingly before moving his attention to your stiff, aching bud. Jason tilts his head, dropping his chin to his chest, letting a drizzle of spit cascade down between you. It hits its mark, splashing against the hood of your clit and rolling down until he catches it with his thumb, sluicing it up and over your pearl.

“Don’t you dare hold back.” He commands, and all you can do is nod, tits practically tucked under your chin, body jolting from his incessant, endless assault. And then his fingers start to move and you wail. The friction is a welcome respite from the brutal way he’s handling you. Jason plays your clit like he knows what you’re feeling, flicking and tugging, applying enough pressure that the heat beginning to bloom in your belly burns hotter, a blazing inferno that’s about to consume you. “That’s it, let it out. Come on, angel, give it to me. Soak my fucking thighs.”

There’s always this brief moment before you cum—the universe stilling for the tiniest of seconds right before you unravel. You lock eyes with Jason in that instant, lip pinched between your teeth to try and muffle the noise you’re making. He nods at you, encourages you to let it go, tells you that he’s got you with just the look in his eyes, and it’s the truth. When time catches up to you in the next blink of your eyes, you fucking explode. Your back arches, knees slamming into your chest while you scream and quake beneath him. Jason wrangles you through your convulsions, pins your limbs to the table, coos and hushes you, lavishes you with praise while your cunt gushes around the intrusion of his cock. And what a fucking mess you’ve made.

His teeth grit when he feels your cum wet his stomach and thighs, dribbling down his balls, and that’s the final nail in the coffin for Jason. With a roar of your name, he pumps into you a final time before he, too, loses himself. Jason cums hard—so hard that he damn near goes blind and deaf, vision whiting out, ears ringing as he empties himself into your swollen, fucked out pussy. It’s endless, the thick ropes of spend that now paint your insides. So much that you can’t contain it, a few errant, creamy strands dripping out of the place your bodies are joined.

When he blinks his eyes open again, he catches as much as he can on his fingers, licks it into his mouth, and yanks you into his arms to kiss you. You’re barely conscious, but you kiss him back anyways, and Jason can’t stop the smile that curls his lips as he feeds you his cum from the tip of his tongue. Brushing your sweat matted hair off your forehead, his smile widens, peppering your reddened face with kisses. “You still with me, baby? Or have I fucked you stupid again?”

A halfhearted swat to the side of his head is your answer, and he laughs, the sound warm and infectious. There’s something so sweet about his laugh, it’s always made your chest swell, deep and gruff and perfect—just like him. You both stay locked together, his arms around you in a tight embrace, until your mind finally floats back into your body enough for you to remember how to be a person again. “Hey—as incredible as that was, and don’t you dare get an ego about it—you’re still very fucking injured, Jason.”

Another laugh, his lips smacking against yours in a final peck that has you grinning right back at him. “Yeah, alright, I hear you, boss.” Jason teases, right before easing his softening cock from inside you. There are wounds that need tending, but he’s not quite ready to let go of this moment, feeling whole with your body wrapped up in his arms. He presses his forehead to yours once more, warm breath fanning out against your heated skin. “I love you, baby.” He whispers it, soft and sweet, your heart melting at the declaration.

It’s a sentiment you return without hesitation, arms moving to cup his face—your whole world now held between the palms of your hands—and tilt his face back to level him with your stare. “I love you,” you answer, conviction heavy in your voice as you brush your nose against his “always.” Jason’s breath hitches in his chest, because nothing on this earth could have ever prepared him for the peace, the utter tranquility that loving you and being loved by you has brought him. Despite the lump in his throat, the tears misting his gaze, he echoes “always,” right back to you, kissing you tenderly until you’re both dizzy, until the world around you fades once again, until all that’s left is you and him. Just the way you like it.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #fanfic #jason todd fanfic #red hood fanfic #fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #DC comics

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 2 years ago

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Hear me out.....pretty...pretty Please, some general fluff headcannons for 141 and Konig?! I'm desperate for some fluff. Stuff like how soft they r how they r at home, kisses that sort of thing? Id die of happiness if u did!!!!!?????

141 + König General Fluff Headcannons

Warnings: fluff🩷, mild NSFW references

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Simon Ghost Riley-

It takes him a while to open up to you, but once he does? He's yours forever.

He is more of a listener than a talker, and he is damn good at listening

You always have to be within his line of sight. He always wants to make sure you're safe.

Definitely gets up before you in the mornings and loves to wake you up with coffee

Not big on PDA, but he doesn't mind holding your hand out in public.

Doesn't say I love you often, but when he does, it turns your whole world on an axis

Says no to a getting a dog at first, but when you finally get him to say yes? The dog is that man's best friend.

He's not a very good cook when you first get together, but he teaches himself in secret one year to surprise you on your birthday by making you your favorite meal. (Your heart nearly melted at the proud smile on his face when he told you he made it)

This man is loyal as hell. You will NEVER catch him looking anyway at anyone the way he looks at you. No person's beauty in his mind will ever compare to yours

Loves going for long car rides with you. Weekend trips, day trips, whatever works for him. Will ALWAYS have his hand resting on your thigh

He developed a ritual with you, where he will wear one of his hoodies for a few days straight so it smells like him when he goes on deployments

Secretly loves when you wear his dog tags. It's a kink of his he won't voice out loud

Loves to spoon you in bed. Very rarely will he not be holding you, or touching you in some way when he sleeps

Takes him a while, but he'll start to look forward to holidays with your family. They welcome him with open arms, and for the first time in a long time, Simon feels like he has a true family who loves him

John Price-

Loves to hear about your day. First thing he asks you when you come home after work is how was your day? And this man GENUINELY listens

Loves to spoil you. Man gives inadvertent sugar daddy vibes. You even hint at something you like or want? He will get it for you

Huge on spontaneous dinner dates. Loves to come home randomly and tell you he's taking you for a night out

Literally has the hardest time saying no to you. For ANYTHING.

He tries to act all tough, but this man is so whipped for you

Loves when you rest your feet in his lap on the couch, as he loves to massage them for you after a long day

Fight me, but this man loves to take baths with you. He loves to relax in the hot water, with you against his chest. He can literally fall asleep like this

Always insists on paying when you go out to eat. Never, ever let's you foot the bill (if you pout enough, he may let you, but will feel bad about it afterward)

Will watch any TV show you want. He says he hates romantic dramas, but he's just as invested as you are

Kisses with him are always longing, and always want you leaving more

Man is a Valentines Day legend. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry, fancy dinners THE WORKS

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

An amazingly fun boyfriend to have.

Johnny always wants to do something fun, go somewhere fun

He's surprisingly amazing at giving massages

Doesn't mind PDA, he'll randomly kiss you in public, hug you, and hold you close. He doesn't care who sees.

Loves to try new things. Whether it's food, movies, or something to spice up the bedroom, the man will never say no to trying something at least once

Not a morning person, and he will have an iron tight grip on you in an attempt to force you to stay in bed longer with him every morning (he always ends up succeeding)

His ideal date with you is a pub. Something with good food, good beer, and even better company.

Loves to "mislead" you about when he's coming home from a mission, because he absolutely adores the look on your face when he surprises you earlier than expected

Adores double dates. Loves to hang out with couple friends.

When you're walking on a sidewalk, he'll always push you on the inside so you're away from the cars

Definitely is that boyfriend that will send you a dozen tik tok reels a day

Please go to an amusement park with him. He'd be so happy winning the various carnival games for you, getting you any stuffed animal of your choosing

You two cannot do surprises for one another. You get too excited and end up telling each other gifts or surprises the minute you plan them

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

This man loves to surprise you with flowers. Had a bad day? Flowers. Wants you to feel a little extra loved? Flowers. Thought you looked cute one day? Flowers.

Loves to go to furniture stores with you. Even if you don't actually need it, the two of you can spend hours looking around at various stores

Enjoys cooking for you. He's one to try new recipes, and loves seeing your reactions to them.

Firmly believe this man loves to dress up as a couple and that Halloween is his absolute favorite holiday.

Adorably loves to have a "chore" day once a week with you, where you both do house chores together for a few hours, while each of you gets to pick what song plays in the background

So supportive of any hobby you might have. Like to paint? He'll continuously buy you paint brushes. Love video games? He'll buy you any new one that comes out he'd think you'd enjoy.

Whenever you guys go out, he always orders something you like for his meal, in case you don't like yours

If you have longer hair, he loves to play with it and help you style it

Best movie buddy ever. He LOVES going to the movies with you, and will get you all the popcorn and snacks you desire

Will hold your bags for you while you shop, and will fight you if you try to carry your own

König-

Possibly the sweetest boyfriend out of all of them

You will catch him staring at you ALL the time. Any second he gets, he will be looking at you

Loves date night ins. Cooking together or getting takeout and cuddling on the couch together while watching a movie? This man'll be in heaven

Loves to offer you his arm in public. Plays into his size kink when your small hand wraps around his bicep whenever you walk anywhere.

Man will WORSHIP you in bed. Wants nothing more than to make you happy in every aspect of your life.

Is more of a cat person than a dog person, so you two end up getting quite a few kitties around the house

Always kisses you like you're delicate. Loves to place gentle, loving kisses to your lips when you least except it, and his cheeks always flush a deep pink when he does

Will always shower with you. When he's home from missions you very, very rarely shower alone. Loves to help you shampoo your hair

Adores ADORRESSS when you wear his clothes. Triggers the man's size kink like no other when his shirts are like dresses on you

Amazing at aftercare. Always wants to make sure you're satisfied. Will warm a towel for you, get your water-whatever you need.

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kamiversee · 8 months ago

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 27 || The Sweet Moments (PT. 2)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of angst, & lots of fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THE EVENTS OF WHAT took place in Toji's car, he gave you the option of either sleeping in the guest bedroom of his home or his bedroom. You chose the first option and he was sure to warn you that his son would probably return home sometime that morning so you'd have to stay hidden in there during that time.

You agreed to that and when you got into his home, Toji had given you a spare shirt of his to sleep in. The night went on perfectly fine and he even gave you medicine for your throat before he went to bed, something you gratefully took since you could feel the slight upcoming scratch in your esophagus.

The following morning, you woke up to dim sunlight resting upon the side of your face, making you groan a little before you turned over. You could hear talking coming from somewhere outside the bedroom you lay in.

There were two voices, one obviously Toji's and the other sounding like a smaller and younger person. After laying there for a few minutes trying to listen and wake yourself up at the same time, you eventually got up and decided to be nosy.

The talking you heard slowly transformed into bickering as you neared the shut bedroom door, pressing your ear against it lightly and listening in on the conversation taking place down the hall and in the nearby kitchen.

"Please no," A child's voice was heard.

The sound of a scoff hit your ears, "What do you mean please no??" Toji replied, "I make the best sandwiches..."

"Dad, every grilled cheese you've ever made has been burnt." His son replied, "And every time you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich... you put like three pounds of peanut butter on it."

"You said you liked peanut butter," Toji argued back with a shrug.

"Not that much." The child grumbled, "And even the regular sandwiches you make always have too much of something..."

Toji frowned, "No one told you to be so damn picky... If you want it done right maybe you should come in here and do it your damn self."

You can hear the kid laugh at his father with footsteps following behind the sound. The footsteps get closer to the bedroom you're in and you hear his voice just outside it, "You're the one who keeps trying to make them in the first place. I never asked you to."

"Then why do you keep eatin' them?" Toji shouts to the boy as he furthers away from him.

"I gotta' eat something... even if it tastes like shit..." You hear the child curse, just under his breath as he passes your door.

Toji raises a brow, "I know I didn't just hear you curse."

"Can you even hear anything, old man...?" His kid fires back, the sound of his footsteps heard entering a room just down the hall from you-- most likely his bedroom.

"Oi, don't make me come back there!" Toji shouts.

"And do what?" The boy mutters sassily, "Force me to eat another dry chicken sandwich with no water like you did last week?"

There's a second of silence and you try not to laugh at their bickering. Toji sounds a bit annoyed now, "You said you didn't want anything to drink.."

"I wasn't expecting to choke on fourteen pounds of chicken and two slices of bread that were the same size as my laptop..." The kid explains overdramatically.

Toji scoffs, "Whatever, hurry up and get ready before you're late."

"Like you'd care..." You hear the kid say very quietly to himself.

"What was that?" Toji calls out.

There's a moment of quietness and you hear his kid playfully respond, "I knew you were going deaf." He says before shutting his bedroom door.

You move to open yours at the sound and peek out, seeing that it is in fact the child's bedroom that he just disappeared into. Toji scoffs within his kitchen and you take a moment to slip out of the bedroom you're in and join him there.

When he spots you emerging from around the corner, he raises a brow. For starters, he's wearing a t-shirt that hugs his torso, revealing that insane physique of his. You gawk at it slightly as you make your way over to him, walking around the counter and approaching his side to see what he's doing.

"Sounds like you need help out here," You whisper to him teasingly.

Toji smiles slightly at your words, realizing that you've heard just about everything. "Kid doesn't like anything I make."

You tilt your head as you stare at the sandwich he's currently making. It looks like it's supposed to be peanut butter and jelly but it's definitely coming out as more jelly with a hint of peanut butter. A hand comes up over your mouth as you try not to laugh at it.

Toji looks to his side and down at you with a frown, "I know you're not laughing right now."

"Mr. Fushiguro..." You snicker, "He's never gonna like anything you make if you do it like that."

"How the hell am I supposed to do it then?" Toji grumbles.

Both of your voices are quiet enough so that his kid couldn't hear anything.

"Watch and learn," You hum before moving to make the sandwich in a way you think anyone would enjoy.

Toji moves to the side a bit as you create an entirely new sandwich, leaving the one he was working on idle. He watches as you spread peanut butter across two slices of bread and then put an even amount of jelly in the middle, bringing the two slices of bread together and then cutting it in half diagonally.

"Aaand done," You say cheerfully, turning to look at the man beside you to see his eyes wide. You chuckle, "What?"

Toji blinks, "He's not gonna eat that."

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure," Toji replies confidently, moving to finish the sandwich he'd been making previously, "He's gonna hate both of them. Kid' hates everything."

"I'm not sure that's true," You hum, watching as Toji proceeds to make his version of the sandwich.

"You'll see." He replies, "Now, go back in the room before he comes out here."

You sigh, "Fiiine." Then, as you walk away, you turn back with a curious brow raised, "What's his name?"

Toji shrugs, "Don't remember."

You blink, spotting a world's best dad mug on the nearby counter, "You're joking right...?"

Toji chuckles and looks up and at you, "His name's Megumi."

You nod and smile before dipping back around the corner and into the room you'd previously been in. You make sure to quietly shut the door behind you and then patiently wait to hear Megumi emerge from his room.

After about five more minutes, you hear his door open and footsteps rush past the room you're in. Megumi is heard in the kitchen taking a seat at one of the barstools.

"Here," Toji sighs, "Try these two before you go and tell me which one is better."

Megumi's face scrunches up, "If you made them, then they both probably taste like shi-"

"Just eat the damn sandwich." Toji cuts him off, frowning at his son in an annoyed manner.

With a roll of his eyes, Megumi goes for the one Toji made first, taking a single bite and dramatically making a disgusted face in reaction. "Daaad, there's like two whole jars of jelly on thiiiiis," He whines.

Toji's expression remains blank, "Yeah yeah, now eat the other one."

"I'm scared..." Megumi mumbles with a pout as he moves for the second sandwich. Toji leans over the counter and watches his son take one bite and then raise his brows. "You made this?" Megumi questions.

"Yep," Toji lies, now frowning at the fact that there's a noticeable difference in his son's reaction to his sandwich versus yours.

"Bullshi-"

"Megumi if you curse one more time, I'm throwin' you out that window over there," Toji cuts off sarcastically.

Megumi sighs, nearly chuckling at his father's dramatic threat, "But you curse all the time."

"I'm a grown-ass man."

"See?" The kid scoffs before moving out of his seat and grabbing the second sandwich he tasted. He then moves to shove the rest of it into a ziplock bag and then drops it into his bookbag, leaving the sandwich his father made on the counter. "Anyways, thanks for not making this one too bad."

"Oh, so you like the sandwiches like that?" Toji asks.

"Yeah, it's even. Not too much peanut butter or jelly. Make all of them like that please." Megumi requests as he moves to grab his shoes.

Toji watches his son near the front door of their home, "I'll try."

His kid nods his head in response before opening the door and making sure his bookbag is on properly, "Thanks. Bye Dad."

"Mhm, cya." Toji hums in response while moving to clean the mess made in the kitchen.

You hear the front door shut and then wait a few minutes before emerging from the bedroom yet again. When you get to the kitchen, you notice the sandwich you made is completely gone and Toji's is still sitting in the same place. Then, you see the older man straightening his kitchen up.

"What was that you said about him hating both sandwiches?" You ask tauntingly as you cross your arms.

Toji sends you a look, "Shut up."

You chuckle, "He seems like a good kid," You say to change the subject.

"He's alright," Toji grumbles while snatching up his abandoned sandwich from the counter. "If he keeps fuckin' with me I'm gonna sell him," He says sarcastically.

Your eyes go wide, "Sell him?!"

He shrugs, "He'd go for a lot of money too, I bet."

"Mr. Fushiguro that's your son." You say, emphasizing your words.

Toji starts laughing, "I know, I know. I just kiddin'."

"Uhuh..." You hum, nodding and smiling at him.

You end up helping him straighten up his kitchen a bit and afterward, he offers to drive you home. You didn't want to run the possibility of Shoko or anyone else you know seeing Toji drop you off so instead, you told him you'd call a friend to come get you.

With a shrug, Toji said okay and then he went off to prepare himself for his day. You ended up putting your dress back on and leaving the shirt he gave you neatly folded up on the bed you slept on.

After which, you give Toji one last bye before heading outside. It was decently early in the morning and the chilly fall breeze was brushing up against your exposed skin as you walked down the street a bit. You didn't want to call your 'friend' (Gojo) to come pick you up from right outside Toji's house so you made sure to distance yourself a bit.

Luckily for you, there was a bench just down the street that you found yourself sitting at. The phone call you made to Gojo was relatively short and how quickly he got to where you were surprised you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Did you fuck Mr. Fushiguro again?" Was Gojo's first question to you as soon as you got into his car and buckled yourself in.

You release a sigh before responding. "Yep. That's another six thousand if I'm not mistaken," You claim, turning your head to look at him with an innocent little smile on your face.

He blinks, "You're lucky I love you, y'know that right?"

There's a pulse felt within your heart. Just when is he going to stop saying that? "Am I?" You ask.

Gojo scoffs, "Yeah, do you even know how much money I've given you so far?"

You shrug casually, "Am I supposed to be keeping track?"

"I mean you don't have to but I'm surprised you don't," Gojo hums, smiling a little, "You're like a spoiled princess now..."

"I'm not sure princesses get paid to fuck hot guys," You utter before looking away from him and his stupid smile that makes your heart rate increase. "And wait, how did you know I slept with Mr. Fushiguro again?"

"Uhm, he lives down this street. I babysat his kid and I know where they live, remember?" Gojo explains.

"Oh... Wait, speaking of that... Satoru," You turn your head to him and you see light pink decorating his cheeks at the mere sound of his first name leaving your lips. He looks like an idiot in love and you think you hate every second of it, "What do you owe everyone on the list? Why are you in debt?"

His eyes widen and Gojo swallows hard, quickly snatching his gaze off of you and moving his hands to the steering wheel in front of him so that he can start driving. "Does it matter?" He asks you, his brows furrowing.

"I mean, I'm just curious." You say flatly, "How do you even come up with the gift of a whore being your form of payment? And again, what do you owe-"

"Did you just call yourself a whore?" Gojo cuts off.

"Yeah, it's not the first time-"

"Stop that." He says, making a left down the next street, "You're not just some whore, okay?"

"Ohhh so I'm a special whore? Got it." You utter sarcastically.

"I'm serious, don't call yourself a whore. That's not what you are." He says sternly.

"Fine, a slut then." You argue, shrugging a little, "Either way, I'm still spreading my legs for a bunch of guys."

"First off, sluts don't get paid to sleep around, you do." Gojo clarifies, "Secondly, I'm forcing you to do these things so in a sense, you're not a whore."

"But... I am." You argue anyway, "That's what you're using me for so that's what I've become."

"You don't have to claim that, it's degrading your character."

You scoff, "And since when do you care about me degrading my character, Satoru? It's the fucking truth. I fuck people and get paid, know what that means?" You utter sarcastically and slightly bothered, "I'm a whore."

Gojo slams on the brakes and stops the car at a stop sign, turning to you with anger written all over his face, "You're not a whore! Stop fucking saying that." He shouts.

That was his first time ever yelling at you.

A moment of silence fills the air followed by his harsh tone. Hell, you don't even think you've ever seen Gojo so upset over something before. It was weird to see him like this. All the aggravation in his tone and in his expression over a word that's been loosely used plenty of times before?

Your eyes narrow at him, in no world would you let Gojo yell at you and just sit there and take it. "The hell are you so upset for? You've called me a whore yourself-"

"No, I haven't." He interrupts, "Never in my life have I referred to you as a whore."

Your face scrunches up, "Uhm, yes you have? After the first time I slept with Mr. Fushiguro and you saw Choso had taken me home, you called me a whore because you thought I slept with three guys in one day." You recall flawlessly.

Not flawlessly enough though, "No, sweetheart. I asked if you were becoming a whore. I implied it but I never flat-out called you that shit."

"Implying it is practically calling me it, dumbass."

"It's not. If I imply the fact that someone's a bitch, does that make them a bitch?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly. And when I asked if you were becoming a whore it was because I was pissed, not that my emotions make up for it but still." Gojo rambles. He's so passionately aggressive about this topic for some odd reason, "Plus, I don't know if you forgot but I literally told you I never agreed on you becoming a whore."

"I didn't forget but did you forget what I responded to that with?" You ask, annoyed by this conversation. "I asked you if that's what I've been from the start."

"Okay, and-"

"And your response to me was maybe." You finish.

He nods his head and then smiles a bit, still appearing angered, "Then I said the list was different because it was supposed to be you fucking someone once and getting paid, not multiple times."

"Okay, well it's not me fucking someone once. Get over it and pay me like you promised to." You respond simply.

"You don't have to ever worry about me not paying you, sweets. That's not what this conversation was about to begin with." Gojo replies, "I just don't want you to think or feel like you're a whore because you're not."

"That's what I feel like though. I fuck then get paid." You say blatantly, shrugging. "I don't understand how else I'm supposed to feel."

"Lessen the number of times you fuck people and maybe you won't feel like that." He suggests.

That set's you off just right, an annoyed smirk pulling at your lips, "Well, sorry that last night Sukuna left me horny and I happened to run into Mr. Fushiguro at the right time." You say sarcastically.

Gojo opens his mouth to reply but he's cut off by you.

"Sorry that I wanted to have sex last night. Sorry that I got into your car and reminded you that you have to pay me for it because it's what you agreed on." You go off, "Oh, and sorry that these actions of mine all stem from you and this stupid fucking list!"

For a moment, Gojo's quiet. He simply stares at you, the car having yet to move since he stopped it. With perfect timing, a car pulls up behind the two of you. Gojo looks away from you and moves to park the car somewhere.

After that, he sighs and rests his head back, "So you're blaming this on me?"

"Who the fuck else am I supposed to blame?" You snap instantly, having not cooled off at all, "I didn't record myself and threaten me with it. I don't owe a whore to a bunch of people. And I didn't start this damn list."

"Right." He nods, "But you left your door wide open-"

"So that gave you the right to come in and record me?" You fire back.

Gojo scoffs, feeling pissed. "Told' you that was an accident."

"As if I fucking believe that."

"Okay well, you're still the one doing extra shit that has nothing to do with the list-"

"Y'know, I didn't hear you complain this much last week when I slept with you." You cut off, "Funny how you only find this much to bitch about when I'm fucking anyone that's not you more than once."

"First off, I'm not bitching about anything." Gojo clarifies. He's upset with you for the first time and it's unusual to see and experience, "I'm being serious with you right now. You complained about feeling like a whore even though I'm trying to tell you that's not what you are, then, your argument to that is the list? The things that are making you feel like a whore are the things you're bringing on yourself."

Your face scrunches up, "What-"

"I never told you to fuck Suguru more than once. Nobody told you that you had to fuck Mr. Fushiguro twice, and god knows how many times you and Choso had sex." Gojo expresses, "If you feel like a whore, that's not because of me-"

"I wouldn't have slept with any of those people in the first place if it wasn't for you." You remind him for what feels like the millionth time, "Did you forget that?"

"No, I know. But even though it's because of me, you wouldn't have felt like a whore if you only slept with them once like you were supposed to."

"Right," You smile and scoff, "Sure."

"And even if you did feel like one," Gojo slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes dead serious, "I'd tell you a thousand times over again; you are not a whore."

"Well," You purse your lips together, "I'm turning into one and nothing you say will make me feel like I'm not-"

Gojo interrupts you by saying your name. You think your entire body freezes at the sound. It's always been sweetheart or sweets or love or any affectionate nickname. The last time you heard Gojo say your first name was the day the list started.

You try to continue anyway, "Like I-I'm not a-"

He utters your name yet again, those blue eyes of his drilling into the side of your face.

"N-No, let me finish," You say, your voice softening unintentionally, "There's nothing you can say to make me feel like I'm not a wh-"

First and last, your full name leaves his lips in a low tone.

You grit your teeth and finally shut up.

"Look at me," Gojo orders. You don't and he scoffs. Gojo tips his head to the side a bit and narrows his eyes, "Fucking look at me." He repeats, no malice heard in his tone.

With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you turn to him, "What?"

"You're not a whore." He says, his tone going completely soft, "If you want someone to demean like that, demean me, not yourself."

You blink, not knowing what to say to him anymore.

"But please," Gojo's gaze goes gentle, his face twisting up in sorrow, "Don't call yourself a whore."

"Satoru." You say, voice completely calm, "I-"

For one last time, Gojo cuts you off by voicing your name in a gentle tone. "You are not a whore." He whispers.

You swallow down whatever arguments you had to that. You have no idea what it was about his tone and the look in his eyes but suddenly, you felt that need to argue with him lifted.

"Okay," You whisper in response.

"Say it," Gojo instructs.

With another swallow, "I'm not a whore." You tell him.

A small smile spreads across his face, "Thank you." He utters.

It was weird. Is this the same man who blackmails you? He's whoring you out and yet doesn't want you to refer to yourself as such? Why? What's so significant about that word that you can't call yourself that?

"And uh," Gojo looks away from you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you..."

He mimics that of a sad puppy in a way. His look is almost... cute?

You decide to look away from him as well, "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He asks timidly as if he regrets blowing up on you so suddenly.

You shrug, "Not really. I don't understand why the hell you got so mad in the first place..."

"I just..." Gojo trails off a little as he stares out the window in front of him, losing himself in thought for a minute. "I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. That's why I said if you're looking for someone to demean, demean me. If you're angry or frustrated with your situation," He glances over to you, "Take it out on me."

You blink, "So you just want me to beat up on you whenever I'm mad?"

"If it'll stop you from calling yourself any degrading names then, yes." Gojo expresses to you.

"This is..." You hesitate on your next words but eventually glance at him and continue, "This is oddly sweet of you?"

His eyes meet yours for only a moment before he looks away, "I wish I could be sweet to you all the time."

"You're sweet when you say I love you..." You tell him honestly, quickly adding on an, "I guess..." So that you don't praise him too much.

Gojo perks up and looks over at you, "I am?"

You look in the opposite direction, "I think anyone would be but, yes, you are."

He smiles, "I l-"

"Don't." You cut off, already knowing he was about to utter those three words to you.

He chuckles, "Sorry."

"Anyways, uhm... Don't I have to meet Nanami tonight?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Gojo remembers, moving to comfort himself in his seat since he has no plans on driving until your conversation is completely over. He rests his head on the palm of his hand, holding himself up against the console in between you two. "So remember when I told you he goes to this bar every Friday night?"

"Mhm." You hum in response.

"Well, I did some more research on it and it's more of this fancy nightclub."

A little scoff leaves you and you glance at Gojo, "Nanami goes to a fancy nightclub every Friday night?"

"Okay, it's like seventy-five percent bar and twenty-five percent club." He explains further.

You narrow your eyes at him, "So what are you saying all this for...?"

"For starters, there's a dress code," Gojo says.

"Ohhh, so it's a fancy fancy nightclub." You reply playfully.

He smiles, "Yeah, you'll have to dress pretty classy to get in."

"Okay and if I had to guess," Your head turns to face him completely, "You already bought me a dress for this?"

"Fifteen different ones actually," Gojo corrects.

"F-Fifteen? How much did you spend?!"

He shrugs, "They weren't expensive..."

"The last dress you told me wasn't expensive was almost a thousand dollars..." You state blankly.

"Oh," His eyebrows raise, "Is that considered expensive?"

You scoff in surprise, "Seriously, where the fuck are you getting this money from?"

"Onlyfans," He says with a wink.

"Genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not right now..." You reply, smiling and yet shaking your head at him.

Gojo chuckles at your reaction, "I'm joking, don't worry."

"So where's the money come from?"

"Well, I am popular online and I get paid a lot from that I guess."

You raise a brow, "What exactly do you do online again...?"

"Uhhh..." He trails off, his eyes wandering away from yours.

You chuckle at the way he avoids your eyes, "...You post thirst traps, don't you?"

"N-No..." Gojo mumbles.

You begin to move for your phone, shrugging casually, "I'm gonna check."

Gojo's eyes snap back onto you and they go wide in worry, "Oh my god, please don't."

"Why are you so worried?" You laugh, "I thought you'd be all cocky about this kinda' thing."

He pouts, "Why would I be cocky about you seeing the content I put out..."

"I mean anything online is nothing I haven't seen before." You point out simply, knowing that no amount of thirst traps will compare to literally having sex with the man.

"I..." Gojo swallows hard, "Listen it's not the kind of thirst traps you're thinking of..."

You pause the movement of your fingers and look at him, raising a brow, "So, what, you're not half-naked with red LED lights in the background?"

"Not really." He hums.

"Oh..." You frown dramatically, "Booooringgg."

Gojo chuckles at you before deciding to give you a hint about what he puts out, "If you had to pick one feature about me that you think girls would be into, what would it be?"

"Uhm..." You stare at him for a moment, "Why are you asking me this as if you're literally not Gojo Satoru?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" He blinks.

"You're the walking definition of sex appeal."

His brows raise at your words, "Am I?"

"Human embodiment of sexy." You continue to thoughtlessly compliment.

"Oh really?" Gojo smirks, "Keep going..."

"You're-," You suddenly stop yourself and narrow your eyes at him "Y'know what, I think you get it by now."

"Mhm..." He hums, having enjoyed hearing you compliment him, "Now, tell me just one feature you think girls find overly attractive."

"Just one? There's so many though."

"C'mon, just one."

You shrug, "Your eyes."

He blinks, a noticeable shade of blush spreading across his cheeks immediately in reaction to your words. Gojo is oddly adorable when receiving compliments from you, almost as if he's not used to it.

He bats his eyelashes at you, "My eyes?"

"You literally have blue eyes and white eyelashes," You say flatly, "Why are you acting like you don't get that all the time?"

"I mean it's different coming from you."

"How?"

"That means that's the first thing you notice about me..." He murmurs quietly, nearly missing your ears, "But, no that's not it. Now name something else you think is attractive."

Your eyes search the man for a moment, gazing at his clear skin, pretty face, gorgeous hair, sharp jawline, remembering his abs, thinking about his arms and how they feel, and then finding yourself staring at his hands.

You blink, "Your ha..." You cut yourself off, not wanting to give away the genuine attraction you have for his hands. "Your abs-"

Gojo cuts you off, having heard what you were about to say, "You had the first one right."

"Your hands?!" You gasp.

He smiles, "Why do you sound surprised as if you don't like them yourself-"

"Wait, oh my god, so that means you do hand and finger thirst traps?!" You say with a slightly dropped jaw.

Gojo looks away from you, "On one of my pages, yes. Though, I still don't get the appeal-"

"Gojo your hands are literally perfect." You interrupt.

His ears redden but he looks at you again, moving to put his hand out, "What about them are perfect?"

You inspect the part of his body in question, moving to drag a finger along his skin, "The veins... the length... how soft they are..." You slowly get carried away as you feel them, "...how warm... how deep inside me they reach..."

"Woah," Gojo can't help but flash a toothy smile, "I don't think any of my fans can feel that last one sweetheart-"

"That makes it better for some reason, honestly." You shrug.

"Yeah?" He bites his bottom lip a little, "Y'like knowing that you're the only one who gets to have my fingers deep inside your pu-"

"Stop." You cut off, your face flushing as you look away from him.

He leans just a bit closer to you, "So you can say it but I can't?"

"Your version was going to be far more explicit." You hum, avoiding those teasing looks of his.

"So? It's true." Gojo replies, watching as you feel his hand, "You are the only girl that I've ever fingered after all..."

Your movements come to a stop and you look at him, "Wait what?"

"Hm?" Gojo hums, shifting his hand to hold yours suddenly.

You wanted to stop the gesture but you didn't, "What do you mean I'm the only girl you've ever fingered...?"

His shoulders rise into a shrug and his eyes remain on how small your hand is in his, "Never felt like fingering a girl before you."

"Then how..." You trail off as you recall that moment with him before shaking your head, "Nevermi-"

"How did I know how to do it so well?" He finishes for you.

"I mean... yeah..."

"For starters," Gojo spreads his hand out, having your palm rest over his and comparing the size difference, "I have long fingers so naturally I reach deeper inside you."

"Okay..." You murmur.

"And everything else I just figured out as I did it." He says cheekily, flicking his gaze up to your face, "Didn't expect you to cum from that alone though-"

"Okay okay," Your face flushes a deep shade, "We don't have to talk about it anymore..."

"Aw, why?" He coos, teasing you, "I like remembering that time. Y'know, thinking about how tight your pussy felt around my fingers-"

"Jesus Satoru," Your eyes widened at his lewd words, "Stop it."

"How warm and wet you were for me." He continues nonetheless.

"Satoru-"

A smile spreads across his face at how embarrassed you get in reaction to his words, "The way you moaned my name almost made me cream my pants too-"

"Satoru." You say sternly.

Gojo pulls his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, carefully letting it slide back out as he stares at your face, "Hm? Yes, sweetheart?"

"Stop it." You order.

His fingers suddenly curl in between yours before he pulls your hand up to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it. "Yes ma'am..." Gojo whispers against you.

"Anyway..." You whisper, ignoring how fast your heart is beating, "So taking videos of your hands is how you make money?"

"It's how I make some of it, yeah," Gojo replies, just barely taking his lips off your hand.

You nod, "I see... Well, you're gonna have to explain where the rest of your money is coming from one day because I swear if I find out the money you've given me is illegal or something-"

"It's not, I swear." He reassures you. "I'd give my life savings to you before ever putting you in a position like that."

It's weird but, you smile slightly at his words. Then, you watch in comfortable silence as Gojo moves to kiss the back of your hand over and over. His lips are so soft against your skin, so affectionate, and so utterly loving that it almost infects you.

The hand kisses are enough to give you butterflies and the moment you feel that, you're quick to casually pull your hand away.

Gojo pouts at the loss of your hand but he doesn't say anything, simply moving to finally start driving again.

According to him, you've got fifteen dresses to go through and pick before the night approaches, and then after that; you'll finally meet Nanami.

Or at least, that was the plan. You weren't expecting things to go down the way it did.

No one could prepare you for the feelings that lay deep within the male in the car with you right now...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 2 months ago

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hii i was wondering if you could do logan with reader that owns a cat and the cat acts JUST LIKE HIM and he cant stand it until reader points it out. thank you!!!!

I loved this request! I have my own little cat, so I wanted this to be as well written as possible. I'm sorry it took so long to be posted. I hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me with motivation to keep posting on here <3

This is my kitten rocket 🤭

Logan was never afraid to meet anyone in your life. He had met your friends and family; he met your colleagues and even your old roommate, but for some reason, everyone is telling him he should be afraid to meet your cat.

Logan can remember every warning he got from the people in your life when they found out he hadn't met your cat yet. "Oh, that's her baby" "Oh he has brought a lot of joy into her life since she found him, he really is her number one" "That cat hates anyone that comes over-I swear it's crazy" "Her cat is just very territorial, very protective" "Make sure you wear shoes, he goes for the toes."

He scoffed at these warnings, it's still just a cat. He wanted your cat to like him, of course he did but he also wasn't afraid to meet the damn thing. He knew you loved you cat, that was your baby, and you took care of him more than you took care of yourself something Logan hated, but he didn't think it mattered what a cat thought of him.

You usually would stay at his place after a night out, but for the past few dates, you two went back to your place instead. It wasn't a big deal, but you were worried for how your cat would react to a strange man coming into his territory. "He just doesn't like people Lo', I don't want him to lash out at you." He could hear in your voice how worried you truly were, and he tried his best to reassure you that the cat and him would get along just fine.

He lied to you. Logan can't stand that fucking cat and that cat has it out for him too. The first night the cat didn't even come out of hiding, it completely broke your heart and Logan ended up leaving a bit earlier than planned because you were worried for your cat's wellbeing, as he was leaving he heard you cooing at the cat calling him your baby and your handsome man and though he'd never admit it aloud a twinge of jealous did echo through Logan's chest. The next night the cat did come out of hiding, just so he could attack Logan's legs. When Logan didn't kick him across the room like he wanted to you came and put the cat in your bedroom. "I am so sorry!! Are you okay??" You exclaimed while you closed the door to your room before trying to check on his scratches even though they healed before you could. He grumbled... sort of whined a bit too, and honestly, he was enjoying the attention, so maybe he milked the injury? Sue him.

What really pushed him over the edge was your cat literally pushing him over the edge. It was around 1 in the morning, and you had just fallen asleep. Logan was holding you in his arms and trying his best to fall asleep himself when the door to your bedroom creaked open. Logan, now fully awake, sits up, trying not to disturb you and is greeted with a sharp meow and sharp little claws to the stomach. "Mother fucker" Logan mumbled under his breath as he pushed the cat off of him, "why are you even in here?" he asked quietly so he wouldn't wake you but sharply enough to try and scare the cat away. The cat meowed louder than before as if he was arguing back and went to lay on your chest, purring as he curled himself into a ball. Logan was pissed but he tried to stay cool and just ignore the cat, then around 4 in the morning, Logan was awoken to his body meeting your bedroom floor. When he stood up, he looked at the bed and saw your fucking cat in his spot. "That's it." Logan had enough and grabbed a blanket before going to the couch.

You woke him up hours later, very confused as to why he was on the couch and was replaced by a cat in the middle of the night. "Baby?" You asked softly, handing him his cup of coffee, "don't. Just don't." He grumbles and sips his coffee, sending your cat a glare as he walks around smugged.

Logan refuses to lose against a damn cat!

It's just a stupid cat, not even 4 months old yet. So why was he letting its behavior get to him so much? Because it was your cat, and even if Logan wasn't ready to admit it yet he really did love you and for some reason you loved that asshole cat more than the world so for fuck sake that cat will like him even if it is the last thing he does in his very long life.

Honestly, it was truly ironic if Logan took the time to think about it. Your cat was a grump. He didn't want people around unless he allowed them to be around, and even then, he wanted his distance. But not when it came to you. When you were around, that cat was glued to you and had the loudest purr Logan had ever heard, and your cat really did get protective of you. It was something Logan had never seen before. Usually, cats don't care, but if you came home upset, the cat wouldn't settle down until you did, too. If he took the time to really think about it, maybe he could see the resemblance the cat shared with another grump you have allowed into your life that you loved more than the world.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverpool #logan wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #james logan howlett #xmen fluff #xmen imagine #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #logan x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader

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greycaelum · 1 year ago

Note

imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/

𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.

"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.

"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes.

Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.

"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.

"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.

"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.

That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...

Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.

"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.

You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.

The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.

You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.

"!?"

The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.

Les Sucreries

"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time.

"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.

Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...

2016...

The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.

"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?

Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?

A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.

The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe.

"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.

"Mama..."

"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart."

Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.

You walked and walked and stopped.

That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.

"Gojo?"

Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...

Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.

And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.

Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.

He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!

Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.

What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.

Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.

Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.

"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before.

Les Sucreries

That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.

What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?

That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.

And the woman... was you...?

Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!

It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.

But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.

W-What happened?

Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?

So you got married. And not just married!

You're married to Gojo.

What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.

You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.

"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

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rkiveinmarvel · 9 months ago

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anatomy of hands and sake - roronoa zoro. (18+) des. angst-fluff-smut, wano arc. zoro finally woke up after the fight with big mom and kaido--he missed you. porn with plot. clothed sex. make up sex. unprotected sex (practice safe sex ppl) marking and biting>; soft sex, established relationship. soft!dom zoro, people being inlove, aftercare!! nsfw

notes. my propaganda: soft!zoro is canon zoro-again this contains smut (minors dni, pls) zoro big cock energy, mentions of wounds and stitches. F! Reader

hello. i had this idea for a while and yeah, here it is. it's my first time writing smut so, bear with me--n e way he might be ooc here but zoro is zoro and iluvhim. hiyori is mention as well tho-no hate to hiyori-luv that girl--livelaughlovemarimo

w.c: 3k (damn, zoro)

The infamous swordsman of the Straw Hat is known for his ability to stand his ground in any battle and situation, with one foot in front of him–he doesn’t hesitate to draw his sword if someone pisses off the crew. Saints forbid those who pissed off the swordsman because he will show no mercy and no hesitation, until it’s the captain’s orders—and an order from you.

It’s no secret that you and the straw hats were once against each other in the fight at skypiea but that fight is the fight Zoro hesitated to hold his sword—maybe because he’s finally facing a right hand of the so-called god or maybe you were fighting against your will or maybe—just maybe—he didn’t want to hurt you. He still remembers how you gripped your sword with such anger and shouting at them to leave the island to protect themselves—call it a warning or a sign but at that moment, Zoro wanted to save you; he was glad he did.

That was two years ago and here you are now waiting Zoro to wake up from his slumber after fighting Kaido and Big Mom. You reached for the damp towel as you wiped his worn-out body and slow heaving chest—Zoro looked peaceful when he sleeps, he always does, but moments like this you wish you can just see him working out at the crow’s nest, hear him argue with the cook, look out for Chopper, or just seat and listen to you.

This is what you hate the most every time a battle ended, the silence of waiting, hoping, and wishing that all of the crew members are okay—the unwanted fast paced heartbeat as you wished for them to be okay. You sighed deeply as you caressed Zoro’s face and continue to wipe his cheeks and dance your fingertips in his hair.

“Please, wake up…” You whispered lowly as you stare at this sleeping state and replace his old bandages with new ones. Once you finished cleaning him up—a small smile left your lips as you kissed his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning after morning, the green-haired swordsman and the future king of the pirates are still asleep—with no luck, you decided to spend the night looking out for the two; which Chopper didn’t agree at first, but as Chopper felt the tiredness catching up in his body—he agreed.

Then, it was a week: a week of looking out for the two whilst also switching watching duties with the straw hat; but most of the time: you stayed there not wanting to switch with Sanji nor Nami as you hold Zoro’s hand muttering and wishing that he should wake up.

Usopp rushes in the hallway and knocked on the room where you stayed—with a loud voice he announced that Zoro and Luffy are awake. You two immediately rush into the room—your pounding heartbeat and the ringing in your ear didn’t stop you—he’s awake, Zoro is awake—you kept on repeating on your head—the two of them are alive and okay.

Hesitation floods in your mind as you stood by the door but soon was replaced when you hear cheers and a familiar laugh coming out from the room—as Usopp opened the door: there you saw him and Luffy.

You didn’t know when or how but Chopper was clinging and trying to stop Zoro as he chugs a huge bottle of sake. A smile escaped your lips as Luffy called your name in such glee, with a last chug, Zoro finally locked eyes with you: saints, he missed you. You gave him a relieved smile but somehow covered when Hiyori placed a bottle of sake in front of him in which he groaned. He moved the sake aside and watched you talk to Luffy—he should speak to you—but before he can speak, he felt hands of Hiyori creeping from behind.

“You were out for a week.” Brook explained as he drank and ate next to the crew.

“We aren’t dirty though.” Zoro stated as he eyed his hands.

“I cleaned you up.” Hiyori announced from behind him, earning a choke from Yamato, as Yamoto looks at you, as you catch his look—you chuckled in your cup as you drank sake. As Sanji and Zoro banters about Hiyori—you laughed at the sight—everything is okay, Wano is free, the crew are laughing, and Zoro is okay.

“We should have the banquet, today!” Momonosuke announces.

---As the entire people cheers, Zoro locked eyes with you once again, as you raised a cup signaling him for a cheer in which he nodded and gave you a cheeky smirk. For the time being, Nami have decided to take a bath, inviting you, Robin, Hiyori, and the others as well.

You leave the room as the boys continue to drink and eat—that until Zoro noticed that you’re no longer in the room he’s in—he stood up and left the room while also removing the bandages on his body because it restricts his movement as he walked.

You were preparing for the bath when you entered your room until you felt a familiar arm holding you from behind. It didn’t make you flinch nor scared, somehow, it comforted you. You hummed at the person who’s hugging you from behind.

You felt his chest on your back he holds you tighter. “You left early.”

“Nami invited us for a bath.”

“You didn’t talk to me.”

“You were busy drinking.”

He then let you go from his grasp and hold your shoulder to make you look at him. “Thanks for cleaning me up.” You smiled softly as you eyed him.

“Hiyori did.” I teased innocently.

“She did but you did it every day…”

“How can you say so?” He then holds your hand and placed it on his cheeks. “I know how your hand feels when you hold me, woman.”

As he placed your hand on your cheeks—he leaned in at the contact. “I’ve missed you, Zo.” You whispered lowly as you pulled him into an embrace, you settled in his chest as you listen to his heartbeat, beating pretty fast.

He hummed as you said those words as he fiddled with the strand of your hair as you hugged him. “That was pretty dumb, you know.”

That left him confused. “Law and Sanji told me what happened—that was dumb, Zoro.” He pulled away from the hug and noticed that some tears are threatening to fall from your eyes.

He wiped them away as he waited you to continue what you’re about to say. “You almost died.” In that moment, his heartbeat begins to beat faster: you were that worried.

“That was dumb because the way Law told me, it seems like you were ready to die---”

“I wanted to protect Luffy and you—”

His heart breaks as you shook your head. “Protect yourself too. I know you care about the crew but I don’t want to face this again—the fear of you not waking up, like in Thriller Bark? I know you don’t want to lose anyone but—I don’t want to lose you too.” Your hand shakes as you cup his cheeks again.

He grips your wrist and gave your wrist a ghost kiss, uttering a soft whisper that he can only hear. As he kissed your wrist, he just stared at you. He kissed your hand, fingertips; he kept staring at you.

As he looked at you with a soft gaze, he pulled you closer to him.

“I’m sorry.” He only follows Luffy’s orders but—somehow, even you’re not the captain—he follows you. “I’ll get stronger so, you won’t feel like you will lose me again.” He kissed your temples and wiped your tears, as you nodded.

He stared at you for a while and his eyes lingered in your lips. Without a warning, he placed his lips into yours as you taste the sake he drunk from before. He hummed in your lips as you reciprocate the kiss, he placed his hand on your nape as he was eager to pull you closer to him if that was possible, while your hands roam around his body.

His chest, neck, abdomen, arms, and biceps—it was explored by you—he pulled away as he settles his lips on your neck muttering your name while he does. Your hand fumbles his hair, as you hold him closer. He kisses and left marks on your neck, while indulge himself with your scent.

You tilted your head as you gave him more space as his hand traveled in your kimono, pulling it down softly. He pulled away from your neck as his hand travels in your kimono—slowly untying its knot. He whispered your name as low as he could: “Can I…?”

Your hand travels into his nape as you nod. “Use your words, doll.”

“Yes…Zo.” You hummed as he let his hand let loose of the knots in your kimono. “I fucking missed you.” He whispered lowly as his lips travel from your neck towards your collarbone.

“I was just here, Zo.” You felt goosebumps as his hand travels every inch of your body. As his breaths shallows and his lips relaxes on your collarbone and chest. You whimpered his name so low; he’s the only person hearing it. He let his clothes fall on the floor as he lay you down on the futon. But he clicks his tongue as he felt a sharp pain on his chest in which you immediately pulled away.

“We don’t have to---” He stared at you with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes: as his eyes travels at everything that is you, he groaned and shook his head as he grabbed you by the hips switching your positions—making you straddle him. He smirked as he saw you on top of him with pride as he pulled you down for a kiss.

“I fucking want you.” He holds your hips as he moved you in a rhythm. He hummed as you gasped at the pace. “Been looking for you when I woke up.” You felt him so close, despite the small clothes keeping you two apart.

“You sure it wasn’t the sake?” You teased as you stopped your hips.

“Take it off…” He whimpered.

You never thought for a million of years that the pirate hunter would whimper under you—in hearing his plea: you take everything off your body including his: for a moment, the world seemed to stop as your hand travels into his new wounds. Your hand shakes as you saw new stitches.

Before you can say anything—he grabbed your hand that was tracing his new wounds. “Eyes up here, doll.” He said into your fingertips—but unknown emotion filled you as your lips find his wounds, you carefully kiss them as blush continue to travel around Zoro’s body.

“Oi…” He continues to repeat as you kiss his wounds. His gaze locks into you as you kissed him on his lower abdomen. He gave you a knowing look: “Come kiss me, woman.”

So, you did. His hand travels into your clit as he continues to kiss you—as he pulled away: he stared at your expression whilst you stare at him, breathless, blushing mess, and muttering his name every chance you get. As he finds the right time to slip his finger inside you and it made you gasp. “Fuck—so, fucking warm.” He whispered in your ear as his fingers continues to mark your inside.

He was slow in pace as if he was memorizing your sound, voice, expression, and your look. He kissed your temple as he feels you tightening up. “Great job…baby.” There are times where he lets himself be vulnerable and call you names, he thought he would never use.

But as your hips meet his hands—he groaned as he moved his hand in a pace where you find yourself gripping his biceps—with one last move, you came undone into his hand as he kissed your temple; “My girl…” he whispered as he felt you shiver in his touch—he pulled his hand away and he kisses his hand while staring at you.

You smiled and kissed him in his lips: tasting yourself in his mouth. “Better than any sake…” He whispered with a smirk as he continues to kiss your lips. He stared at you as his hand take hold of your hips once more as you aligned yourself into him—he slides his cock between your folds, he felt warm and you felt full.

“Relax…” You didn’t know how or why or maybe because of the orgasm you had earlier but at the same time he felt bigger. As you settle into his cock, you stayed there as he looks at you. “Babe…” He called you like a prayer—without saying anything, you knew what he wanted. He flipped your over so, he’s now on top of you.

“I got you—relax, doll.” He whispered in your ear as he stared at you. You pulled him for a kiss as he moves his body to meet yours. “Move…” He takes a short and slow thrust while he stared at your expression which let a small and deep growl out of him.

As his impatient character caught up to him—he starts to get faster; your head thrown against the futon as you moan his name is if that’s the only word you know. Your hands find his shoulder as you pulled him closer. You’re too perfect for him, your walls were made for him—he finds your neck as he continues to suck and bite on it as you hold onto his shoulder as his make your inside fit for him and only him. At this moment, your name was the only thing leaving his mouth as breathless pleas, whimpers, sound of skin, and moans left the room—tears were stinging in your eye, Zoro noticed it he stopped with the fear that maybe he was hurting you but—it’s different, he saw your tears and you were smiling, you pulled him again for a hug but this time your hips met his. “I really thought I lost you.” You whispered in your embrace.

That was his call—he holds you’re his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist—as his name left your mouth in a high-pitched whimper; he leaned in and kiss you once more. As he felt your walls claiming his cock again—he knew you were close and so was he; he reaches for your clit and move it with his thrust—without a second, you’re bound for the second orgasm from the hands of the swordsman. Your legs tighten up at his waist, as you arch your back and you feel yourself shakes. Your walls tighten around him as you keep saying his name.

As you keep saying his name, Roronoa leaned in and kissed your shoulder—for a moment, he swore, he wants to keep you like this; only like this. He fills you up with his cock as his bite into your shoulder; he twitched inside—but he didn’t pull out, reliving and enjoying the warmth settling inside you. His heaving chest and your breathless state; you stared at each other.

When you two catch your breaths, he pulls out as the both of you hiss at the loss contact. He kissed your inner thighs, chest, hand, head, and lips: uttering a thank you. His hand caress your inner thighs softly, as he kisses your temple over and over again.

Before you can say anything—he leans down and kisses your lips as you smiled at the kiss. “Still better than sake?” You teased at his kiss.

He nodded and kissed you deeper. “Still better.” You noticed that one of his stitches on his biceps were getting red—you’re scared that he can get infection— but he just laughed and pulled you into his chest. “I’ll get Chopper to check on it—in the meantime, let’s stay here.” His hands play on your hair as you listen to his heartbeat.

“I was supposed to be in the bath with Nami.”

“Hmmm…You could’ve push me away.”

“You’re lucky that I like you.”

“I know.” He nodded as he heaved a deep sigh. “Robin told me you didn’t went to sleep, when you’re looking out for me while I was out—don’t do that again, okay, doll?”

“Just promise me you won’t get yourself killed.” He nodded as he placed your hand on his chest and gently kiss it.

“You always kiss my hand…why is that?”

“I just like it. My hands are like filled with wounds and yours are soft, warm…” He kissed it again. “Mine…” He whispered. “You always hold me so softly.” He admitted.

You looked at him as you rest your chin on his chest. “Any person should be hold softly and nicely.” He chuckled and shook his head. “With these wound and the swords, I highly doubt I’ll be considered as a person.”

“What makes you think that…?” You frown.

“I’m a monster, woman, so, sometimes it surprises me that you stay—"

“Why do you think you’re a monster?” This time you sat up—he looked at you with a surprise look on his face a parallel to your caring look as his eyes travels on the marks he left in your body; he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t see any monster.” You hold his hand that is placed on his shoulder. He always kisses your hand—so, this time, you kissed his.

“I only see the person that I love.” You kissed his hand, in a delicate manner—as if he was a porcelain glass, a gift from above; he felt his eyes sting as he cleared his throat fighting the blush trying to settle on his cheek.

“The things you me feel woman—The things you make me feel.” He muttered as he pulled you down for a kiss. You smiled at the kiss as he places his hands on your cheeks, without a sign or a signal; he muttered those three words and eight letters with a small tint of blush on his cheeks.

“I love you too, Roronoa.”

-- FIN

holy shit--my first ever smut; if it sucks--i'm sorry :,> zoro the man that you are! trafalgar law is next and it's fluff--wano arc has me gripping all story ideas lmaooo

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3

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bnecaz · 5 months ago

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Girlfriend privileges

Lottie Matthews x F!reader

Summary: After Jackie passes the lead to Lottie for a few weeks, the rest of the team isn't so happy

It felt more like a nightmare to be honest

while the girls were spending the last of their energy every day training all day and arriving at their respective homes only in the early hours of the morning, some getting scolded by their parents but in the end it would pay off, it probably couldn't get any worse

Jackie Taylor was in charge of being the leader this year, but she didn't have the golden patience to be the leader, you and Shauna had a little fight a while ago for a silly reason, and in training you had to train together forcibly, and Jackie didn't know deal with that

" Don't you look where you are, you idiot?" Shauna shouts from the other side of the lawn, attracting the attention of Laura Lee and Natalie who sighs "Fuck you shauna" you retaliate rolling your eyes" Are you too busy looking at your girlfriend or some shit?" "Stop!" Jackie screams when she sees how close you and Shauna are, her screams making no difference

"Maybe you should go and have sex with the boys your best friend looks for you, that way your mouth will be too busy for you to talk shit" you retort "Randy, his name isn't he?" You step back when you see Jackie running to at least try to alleviate the situation that seemed like it couldn't get any worse

Shauna approaches you and for a second it looks like she's going to hit you, then dramatically Jackie jumps in front of you and lands embarrassingly on the ground before Shauna can take it out on you, a loud scream echoing out and making everyone on the lawn look at Jackie, damn it. she looked destroyed there

"You are an idiot Jackie?" natalie screams

and this caused a lot of problems, since the beginning of the year, the team wouldn't stop fighting, every time they got together and it became a law, not to put you or taissa with shauna, or it could turn into a murder, and jackie was the only person who put order there

Jackie's leg seemed to be twisted, it was a real horror, on one side Laura Lee was praying, on the other Misty was trying to touch Jackie's leg and the coach was roughly pushing her away, the rest of the girls looked like statues as they looked at you and Shauna

Jackie made all the girls gather at her hospital bed, receiving sighs and low curses over her, it looked like a wake and no one even knew what they were doing there

And it was worse than some thought, she started giving a speech about you and shauna having to be friends and some shit like that, and started saying that she would probably never walk again that it showed she cared about the team "That doesn't even make sense" Taissa says and is interrupted "Please let me finish"

"I'm going to choose someone to be the leader" "For just a while of course, no one can replace me" Mari closes her eyes and rubs her temples when she sees laura lee raise her hand

"And the chosen person is the most trustworthy here, I would choose Laura Lee but...I think she is too good for that?" Jackie gives Laura Lee a smile when she sees her frown with a disappointed expression

"Lottie"

" You have got to be kidding"

𐂂

"Mari, you're not catching the ball, try again now with Gen"

That was the phrase that Lottie kept repeating over and over for the last 2 hours of training that seemed to turn into 10 hours, the team formation being extremely confused without Jackie, which was to be expected.

"I swear if I hear that word again I'll have wished I was Jackie" Van says, leaning on the goal rail

"We can't go on like this, I know Jackie was too important to lead us, but nationals are coming up" Lottie murmurs breathlessly "I'm going to have to be tough with you guys"

"What the fuck is this lottie?" nat starts to protest running over to lottie and rolling her eyes " You think you're fucking Tommy Shelby?" Natalie says raising an eyebrow

"Who is this" "It doesn't matter"

" The next person who loses the ball will have to walk the length of the pitch 3 times" Lottie says firmly

All the girls sigh but Lottie is unfazed by the curses, insults and even things almost being thrown in her face directly by Van "Are you kidding me?" Taissa snorts and looks at you "Your girlfriend is crazy! We should do some ritual to get Jackie back"

"Nothing to complain about, let's see if Mari doesn't lose the ball now" lottie and mari exchange looks and mari gives an arrogant smile and rolls her eyes, positioning herself while lottie returns to her seat

Training continues and the ball passes from Natalie to Mari, for the first time in the game, and Lottie raises an eyebrow, analyzing

You run to the other side and try to pull the ball from mari, who was already close to your goal, putting strength in your legs that you swear are going to roll over. Now you get closer to mari's legs and are about to turn the ball over when mari gives you One final push and the ball lands in the goal easily, damn it.

The whistle blows and you whimper looking at the girls running to the water fountain, you run to Lottie "I don't want to do this shit" you mumble, shaking your head in denial repeatedly "You are not going" Your eyes widen in genuine surprise and you raise an eyebrow

While the rest of the girls enter, some talking and others panting drinking water, Laura Lee is the first to arrive and sits on the floor "Why isn't she running yet" Shauna's voice resonates "She doesn't need to run" silence

"What!" Mari shouts entering "But would I have to run?" she snorts, crossing her arms "I changed my mind, let's start with who lost the ball for the first time" Lottie says firmly

"If that's so then, she should start in the last training she let Laura Lee fall" they all nod and look at you "It's been a long time, just accept it, besides, Laura Lee is always in the front getting in the way"

Laura Lee widens her eyes and looks away "No offense" she looks at Laura Lee and raises her thumb which is ignored

" That was 4 days ago" Taisa argues to Lottie and she just denies it "That doesn't justify it"

"You're only doing this because she's your girlfriend"

"No, she has this privilege because she's my girlfriend, it's different" Lottie says bluntly

"lottie!"

#yellowjackets #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #yellowjacket x reader #yellowjackets fic #lottie mathews #lottie matthews #lottie mathews x reader

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danses-with-dogmeat · 4 months ago

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Fallout Characters' Lover's Embrace Quotes -- Extras

(Original ask): Hello 😊 I absolutely adore everything you do for the characters you write for! You get the interactions and such perfect every time I read something new 💕 I have a personal headcanon, not full blown request if you don't want it to be, question for you. If you could romance the companions in New Vegas like in 4, what would some of their lovers embrace quotes be? I love how you think and can't wait to hear what ideas you have for any of the characters ❤ have a good day

So I didn't actually get any requests for these specific characters that I can remember, but I had this in my WIPs folder, and had a good time looking back on them, so here they are!

As always, if you would like me to add any characters to this, please let me know, and I'll be happy to 😊

Also, here's a link to my first Lover's Embrace Quotes post with the FO3 and FNV Companions.

Just a heads up, too, a bit of nsfw below the cut (nothing explicit, but definitely some implicit stuffs).

Fallout 4:

Codsworth:

“Prepared to face the day, sir/madam?”

“Oh my, now that was exciting!”

“Your hair, sir/miss. Allow me to fix it for you?”

“Good morning, sir/madam!”

“My, you are truly amazing, my sweet.”

Deacon:

“Whoa, when did you get here?”

“Up for one more round? No?... Yes?”

“Just another minute. Then we can kick some ass or whatever.”

“Gooood morning! And it is a beautiful day out in the Commonwealth, the weather is looking mighty fine in this– Oh, you’re up? Okay, just making sure.”

“Up and at ‘em, right boss?”

“Wow. That was fun.”

Maxson:

“Sleep well?”

“I’ll take that over morning drills any day. No, I don’t need you to tell Kells that.”

“Head’s still swimming…”

“Don’t make me get up, not yet.”

“Damn… Incredible.”

Nick:

“Can’t take my eyes off you….”

“Ain’t I the luckiest synth there is?”

“Say… where’d my cuffs get off to, doll? May need ‘em for later.”

"Well, that's one way to get the coolant pumping." (I know this is already a line of his, but I mean come on. It's too good not to use)

“What do you say, about ready to go?”

“That sure was somethin’, sweetheart.”

Sturges:

“Mornin’ gorgeous/handsome.”

“Ain’t nothin’ better than wakin’ up like that.”

“You really are incredible, you know that?”

“What a perfect way to start my day… wakin’ up next to you.”

“*whistles* That was somethin,’ baby.”

X6-88:

“Good morning, ma’am/sir.”

“Awake quite yet?”

“Damn.”

“Sleep well, ma’am/sir?”

“I… Didn’t know I could feel like that…”

Fallout 3:

Mr. Burke:

“I suppose there are worse ways to wake up.”

“Care for some coffee?”

“Just a moment more, sweet one.”

“Ahh, you vixen/scoundrel.”

“Just turn over. It can’t be time yet.”

Harkness:

“Starting our day off right, I see.”

“It can’t really be time to get up, can it?”

“Mm, good morning…”

“What’re you… Oh? Well, a few more minutes, then.”

“Babe, have you seen my handcuffs?”

Sarah Lyons:

“Up and at ‘em. Come on.”

“Oh, good, you’re finally up.”

“The others better not have heard us.”

“Quit your groaning, it’s not that early.”

“Best to have a shower after all that.”

Fallout New Vegas:

Benny:

“Ring-a-ding, baby. Time to rise.”

“Easy there, squeeze. Save some for tonight.”

“Can’t be time yet. Stay here awhile, lemme hold ya.”

“Geeze baby, you wear me out.”

“24-karate, pussy cat. Just platinum...”

Colonel Hsu:

"Right, then... Up we get."

“Well… that was an excellent performance. Top marks from me, private.”

“Rise and shine, love.”

“Now that was worth waking for at this hour.”

“Wish we had a few more moments…”

Joshua Graham:

“Just… divine.”

“Care to pray with me this morning?”

“Wake up, dear one.”

“Praise be to Him who lights the sky…”

“Ahh… still, your love heals me.”

Ulysses:

"Be slow, beloved. We can take our time."

“Another sunrise…”

“Time to wake.”

“So… It wasn’t a dream. Hm.”

*huffing* “Need another rest after that.”

Victor:

“Shoo, didn’t know you had that in ya.”

“Where to today, pardner?”

“You look like I dug ya outta that grave again, hehe. Only teasin’.”

“Well, how-dy.”

“Mornin,’ pardner. How’d you sleep?”

Vulpes:

“Awake at last? Good.”

“Mm. Expect the same from me tonight, courier.”

“Ave, amica mea.”

“Ah, to hear my name sound from your lips… A fine sound this morning.”

“Expergiscimini. The sun has risen.”

Yes Man:

“Wow, Six, that was the best way to start the day!”

“I sure am glad to have you by my side.”

“Rise and shine!”

“What a great morning it is!”

“Boy, that sure was fun! Ready to make a difference today?”

206 notes · View notes

seospicybin · 6 months ago

Text

PROFESSIONAL COURTESY.

PART I

Felix x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Prologue / Part II

Synopsis: Discovering that his new boss is someone he had one night stand with, Felix struggles to separate work life and personal business. And at times, finding himself mixing those two as he works under your dominance. (18,4k words)

Author's note: I had so much fun crafting the smut for this fic so please enjoy responsibly!

On that particular day, Felix wakes up feeling like a fucking champion, even the gloom of Monday morning doesn't faze him, not for a little bit.

He rides his bike to work, getting his usual cup of coffee first at the coffee shop downstairs before waiting for the elevator with the other employees in the building.

Remembering that he still has no one to report his duty to, Felix takes it easy, enjoying his coffee while waiting for the next elevator to arrive since the previous one is packed with people.

He knows he'll be late clocking in to work but the office is empty when he gets there. He looks around, looking for any clues as to where everyone is going and on the way to the meeting too, he bumps into one of the guys from the PR.

"Where is everyone?" He asks, scratching his head in confusion.

"The auditorium," he shortly answers while half jogging his way to the elevator.

Unconsciously, Felix follows him while tightly holding his coffee from spilling, "Why?"

He turns his head at him and gives him a judging gaze, "You didn't get the email?"

Almost a month working without a boss and Felix is already forgot how to do his job, even something as basic as checking his emails. He wouldn't be surprised if they decide to fire him.

"Uh... I think so," Felix stammers.

"The new Editor in Chief comes today," he informs, rushing go get into the elevator.

It hits him that it means he's getting a new boss and there's no more slacking around the office, he soon needs to check his work emails every damn second.

"Are you coming or...?" His colleague asks, holding the elevator door open for him.

Felix swallows air and nods, "Yes."

Even though there's a chance that he'd get fired today, Felix surprisingly doesn't feel worry at all.

Is it time to be worried? He knows he should come into your office and introduce himself but all Felix does is looking at you through the glass wall from his desk.

It's going to be awkward coming in there and tells you that the guy you had sex with a couple days ago is your assistant. But he can't keep avoiding it, it's either now or he can pack his stuff and finds another jobs.

Funny thing is he's not worried for himself, he worries about how you'd react to him and finding out that he's working for you.

What if you decided you don't want to work with someone you slept with? Worst thing is what if he got fired because of that sole reason?

Felix grits his teeth and just go for it, fixing his appearance on the reflection while hoping that you're not that petty of a person, firing him just because he has seen you naked, and more.

He checks through the glass window, seeing you standing behind your desk with one hand propped against it and the other hand is holding a file you're reading.

He draws a long, deep breath before walking up to the door of your office and knock on it. It's a scene he is once familiar with but it offers him a different kind of rush.

"Come in," you say without taking your eyes off the file you're reading.

He draws another long breath before turning the door handle and pushes the door inward, he has a courteous sets on his face when he walks in.

With the lacks of preparation, Felix ends up just standing in the middle of your office, blanking out. He has not yet decided how to act around you but certainly, he has to keep things professional.

For the first time, you lower the file you're holding just enough for your eyes to be able to look at him, "Yes?

Hearing your voice makes him nervous but there's this exhilarating feeling as well, like recognizing an old song that he hasn't listened in a long time.

"I'd like to personally welcome you and congratulate you as our new Editor in Chief," he starts, surprised himself with his own eloquence.

He notices that one of your eyebrows raised and you stop reading the file to put all of your attention on him.

"Thank you," you elegantly mutter.

"I'd also like to introduce myself. I'm Felix Lee and I am your... assistant," he says, couldn't believe himself for saying that.

You put down your file this time and look at him without anything blocking your sight.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," you say, pausing for a moment before ending the sentence by addressing his name, "Felix."

When he thought it only happens in movie, Felix is experiencing a coincidental thing like this in his life and it feels even more real after you called his name.

"You're working here," he blurts out, coming from deep within his consciousness.

You give him a perplexed look, "Yes."

"And you are my boss," he innocently remarks, not realizing that he's addressing the situation personally.

"Yes," you firmly answer.

"In other words, I work... under you," he makes another personal remark, along with a sly smile that forms on his small, angular face.

You slightly tilt yout head to the side and calmly answer, "Yes."

Instead of feeling nervous or scared, Felix feels excited that his smile grows wider on his face.

"I love my job," he mutters to himself. He doesn't mean for you to hear it but you seem to catch him talking.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," you say with an intense gaze aimed toward him.

Felix quickly gets a hold of himself and tells himself to wrap it up before he keeps making a fool out of himself. He quickly thinks of something to say to you.

"I said if you need anything, just call me," he manages to say without stammering.

"Will do," you shortly reply.

Before it gets too awkward than it already is, Felix takes a step back and awkwardly heads for the door. As he walks back to his head, he's rethinking of all the things he said to you inside.

"I work under you?" He quotes himself, couldn't believe that those words are coming out of his own mouth.

He crashes himself onto his seat and reclines, he runs his hands through his hair, feeling embarrassed for himself. Suddenly, the thought of getting fired seems like a lot better option for him.

"What a way to make a great first impression!" He scolds himself as he starts busying himself with work.

But is it called first impression when it's the second time he met you?

Two weeks later, Felix has a second thought. He doesn't love his job like he thought he would.

It's Friday night and he's still stuck in the office with you after countless hours of meeting. Now, he's on the way to the lobby to get both of your late dinner he ordered an hour ago.

His phone rings the second he exits the elevator, he picks it up while waving his hand to the food courier who has been waiting for him by the reception desk.

"Where are you, man? We've been waiting for you!" His friend says through the phone, skipping on greeting him first.

It's ironic that he used to wait for any chance to go out with his friends, and now, he completely forgot that he has a life outside of work. He's been busy working that having a time for himself is a luxury these days.

"I can't. I'm still at work," he answers while taking the bag of food from the courier.

"Dude, it's—" his friend pauses for a second, "It's past ten. Why are you still at work?"

"Tell me about it!" He groans into the phone, pushing the button to get the elevator with his elbow since his arms are busy holding things.

"Unless you're working at a strip club, I don't see why you need to be there that late," his friend delivers a valid point.

The first rule on assistant 101 is that the assistant can't leave before the boss so unless you tell him to go home, he's chained to his desk. But it's too much to explain to his friend, he wouldn't understand anyway.

"I have to skip tonight," he sighs into the phone, resting his back against the wall while waiting for the elevator to arrive.

"Let's meet sometime this weekend though," he quickly comes up with a solution.

He can hear his friend's sigh of disappointment but no one is more disappointed than him, he wants to go out tonight and have fun, but he simply can't.

"Yeah, okay, see you," his friend says with another sigh.

"Okay," Felix says back, standing on his feet as the elevator dings open.

"Take care, man," his friend hangs up first.

Felix shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and then lets out a long sigh in the empty elevator that takes him back to the 8th floor while holding the bag of food close to his chest.

The office is dark because everyone else is already left and living their lives, unlike him. In his defense, he has a reason why he's still here but you, he wonders if you have a life outside of work.

These past two weeks, he's been watching you working non-stop. The first one to arrive but the last one to leave, and he doesn't know anything else about your life in those long work hours, except that you dedicate yourself to your work.

With the way you landed this job through connection, he understands that maybe you're trying to prove that you're not just filling the empty seat in the company.

It's actually kind of sad that people don't see how you've been handling everything after the company gotten hit with so many scandals and slowly helping the company back on its feet again.

He admires you for that but everyone knows that the Rome isn't built in a day and only God knows how long it takes to change people's perception about you.

Felix heads straight to the pantry to prepare the dinner for you, taking out the food, making them look presentable before taking it on a tray for you.

As he's about to enter your office, you come out carrying your bag in one hand and your blazer on the other. You stop on your track once you notice him lingering on the side of the doorway.

"Don't forget to book flights for tomorrow," you tell him, slipping your hand into your blazer as you speak.

He doesn't remember you're telling him to

"Excuse me, what?" He asks, not remembering that you told him to book flights earlier.

You turn to look at him, "It's in the email."

"What email?" He asks in confusion.

"The email I just sent you," you innocently answer like you did not just hear what you just said.

How did he knows about the email you just sent him a while ago? How can he check his emails when he's busy preparing dinner for you? But he realizes that your subordinate, all he does is obey your words.

He looks down at the food he set for you on a tray, "Then what about dinner?"

You give him a confounded look and swing your bag to the other hand, "What dinner?" You innocently ask like you didn't demand it an hour ago.

And you as his superior, you're always right, it's him who's doing his job wrong.

"Just get it done," you say to him, then turn to leave while Felix is standing there still holding a tray of food you didn't remember telling him to order.

He decides to bring it with him to his desk, checking his emails while filling his mouth with your forgotten dinner. He clicks on the email from you, skimming through most of the content and goes to the important part of it.

You mentioned about booking flights for you but not the part where he is also has to book flights for himself because he's coming with you.

It seems like he can't have fun this weekend too.

14 hours later, Felix lands in a different city, sleep-deprived and mentally exhausted. The invitation come with compliments to a 5-star hotel and it's such a shame that he'll probably don't have time to enjoy the over-the-top hotel facilities.

He generously tips the luggage porter because you brought a lot for a two days stay and makes sure everything is carefully placed in your room.

"Thank you," he mutters to the porter before closing the door.

He walks further into the suite, seeing you standing by the window while looking out at the view of the city.

"Do you want me to move the luggage to your bedroom?" He asks.

You slowly turn on your feet to look at him, "No, it's fine," you answer while unbuttoning your blazer.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

You fold your blazer and place it on the headrest of the sofa, then takes a seat in the middle, "I want to have dinner before the match. Make a reservation in one of the restaurants in the hotel," you order.

Felix types it fast on his phone instead of using notebook, he never knows how many things you want him to do.

"There's French one. I prefer that," you quickly add, your hand reaches for your foot to take off your shoes one by one.

"French food. Got it," he types faster on his phone, then looks up at you, "Anything else?"

You lean on your seat and sitting there looking at him, "I'm going to rest the whole afternoon and you can come back here at 7 pm sharp."

"7 pm sharp," he repeats to himself.

"I don't like to be disturbed so don't come knocking unless it's urgent," you warn him.

He swallows air and types those words in big, red fonts, "Yes, ma'am."

You give him another look and draw a breathe, "You are dismissed."

Felix collects his duffel bag and not forgetting the 'Do no disturb' sign on the door handle before leaving your suite. He can't believe that he has five hours for himself, four precious hours. He goes to his room, makes a reservation at the French restaurant you wanted and sets alarm for 6.40 pm, not risking coming late to pick you up.

It only takes five minutes to get to your suite and he knows he's early but it's better than to be late.

You open the door after his third knock, already dressed in a black dress with a square neck with your hair styled in pretty waves, making him feel undressed in his dark slacks and white fitted shirt.

You keep the door open then walk back inside, you don't say anything but he knows you want him to follow you.

"Do you know who's covering the match?" You ask as you rummage through your bag for some.

Felix fumbles to check his phone, aggressively scrolling through the mails to find the one he's looking for.

"It's Drew and Alma," he answers, feeling satisfied in finding the names fast.

You take a necklace out of a box, walking over to the round mirror hangs on the wall to put it on, "Help me, will you?"

He shoves his phone into his slacks pocket and walks over to you, taking the necklace from your hand to do what you asked him to. You turn around to face the mirror as he carefully places the necklace around your neck, securely clasps it together and when he turns his head, your eyes meet through the mirror for a second.

You look away first and walk back to your bag again to take something else, "Dinner reservation?"

Felix hurriedly takes a step back to where he initially stands, "I already did a reservation for 7.30."

You stand in front of the mirror to apply a fresh coat of lipstick, oddly enough, it makes him uncomfortable, in a way that it feels like he's not allowed to look but he does it anyway.

"Coat," you say to him, gesturing him to take the coat off the hanger.

He immediately goes for it, holding the coat for you so you can easily put it on without a hassle. He almost helps you with your hair as well but you get to it first.

It's the boxing match of the year, most of the hotel guests are also coming to witness it, but you came because of a personal invitation. He doesn't know from who but he's grateful that he get to witness it from the best seats in the house.

You arrive as the opening match has just ended and as the show continues with commentary on the opening match, you walk around to greet the other guests.

Felix recognizes some of the faces, whether they're famous because he has seen them on TV or they're important people in the industry he works in.

"This is my assistant, Felix Lee," you never forget to include hin whenever you introduce yourself to someone and he feels so acknowledged for that. It's also a great chance to make connections within the industry.

You also make time to meet the journalists covering the match for the company, talking a few things in between and takes some pictures after.

Nothing much happened for the rest of the event, but Felix makes sure to snap a few pictures, sending them to his friends just to make them jealous. Busy replying to their salty messages, Felix doesn't notice that you're already getting up after the match result is announced.

"Come on. Time to leave," you tell him, rushing him to get up from his seat.

He guesses you want to leave before everyone is flooding the exit, he keeps following you as you make your way out of the hall and back to the lobby.

You start running toward something... or someone who seems to have been waiting for you by the hotel's fountain park.

"I didn't see you in there," you say, coming up to a girl with blond hair and fancy dressing.

"Not in a million years you'll find me watching a boxing match," she replies with a groan of disgust.

"But shouldn't you in there? I mean..."

"I let them have a boxing match in my hotel just to please my dad," she coyly says as if she didn't just say she owns the hotel.

That explains a lot of things, the invitation and the hotel, she must be the one who invited you, his curiosity is finally answered.

After a while, your friend finally acknowledges him, "Who's that?"

You look over your shoulder at him, oblivious to his presence until she asks about him, "It's my assistant."

"Oh?" She gasps in a rather curious way, she looks at him and offers her hand at him, "I'm Suze."

It's one of the things that astounded him, he always thought that rich people are too good for themselves but that's not the case with you, you can be very demanding at time but respectful? Always and so to other people. Or maybe he hasn't find decent rich people until today to know that.

Felix hurriedly takes Suze's hand and shakes it, "Felix."

"You know it's the only way I could see you," you tell her.

He doesn't know what you mean by that but he sees that Suze understands it right away, she comes to your side and links her arm with you.

"Come on. I'll show you where the real party is!" She says, taking you with her and Felix can only trail behind you like a lost puppy.

The club must be super exclusive and strictly private because he sees not many people in there but everyone is having real good time, enjoying their expensive liquors in their booths and generously tipping the strippers working the poles.

Everyone knows who is Suze as they know where to sit her, preparing the best spot in the club for her and not asking everything but to bring bottles of her favorite.

She starts with glasses of prosecco and hands Felix the first drink, once everyone get their drinks, she initiates a toast. He suddenly feels like intruding the girl's night for joining you and your friend so he plans on staying on the other end of the curved sofa to at least, give you some privacy to talk.

"Come here, darling," you call the stripper who happens to walk past the booth.

She comes up to you and stretches her hand at you, "Do you want a dance?"

You take her hand and hold it, "What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Ivy," she replies with a seductive smile.

"Gorgeous Ivy, I want you to give my man there a good time," your head makes a gesture at Felix.

Ivy turns her head at him, already getting in on her action by waving her hand and making eyes at him.

You turn to grab your purse and takes some cash from it, folding it in half, before slipping it in the strap of his white underwear.

"Go easy on him, okay, doll?" You tell her with your hand rests on the side of the thigh.

"Consider it done, honey," she says to you with a quick caress on your cheek.

This exchange between you and the stripper feels like a dream to him, something that is hard for him to perceive as reality. Until Ivy comes to do what you asked her to do, giving him a good time.

However, Felix finds his focus split between enjoying the dance Ivy is giving him or the talk you're having with Suze. He couldn't hear much through the music blasting in the room but he catches glimpses of it.

"...what your family did this time, making you handle the mess..." Suze sighs with smoke billowing out of her mouth.

"They made me. I have to, I have no options or else, they'll take everything from me," you tell her with eyes looking down at your glass of drink.

Suze lights up another cigarette right away and takes a quick drag, "Maybe they're just bluffing. Remember when my family made me stay at that mental retreat thing? They did that just to give me a lesson," she coyly says.

You shake your head and run your hand through your hair, making it disheveled, "I don't think so. I really struck their nerves this time. Big time," you emphasize those words with a heavy sigh.

"Why did you do it in the first place? Why upset them?"

"Because..." you pause to take a sip of your drink and after swallow it down, you continue speaking, "because I want to be free."

"You know we don't really have that much say on who we're going to marry, it's all set in stone," Suze shrugs despite how depressing she sounded, "All we can do is... accept it."

"It's not just about who I want to marry. Heck! I don't even know if I want to get married, I just want to live my life however I want," you say with a distressed sigh, taking a big gulp of your drink after.

"Just marry him and I'm sure they'll leave you alone," Suze simply resolves.

"I don't want to marry him. I don't love him," you argue, sounding desperate as you said it.

"People like us don't do that," Suze remarks, parting her mouth open to let out the curls of white smoke.

"What?" You ask.

"Love."

You suddenly get quiet and stare down at your drink, then a while later, finishing it in one long sip, you don't even wince at the bitter aftertaste.

"Fuck, it's getting bleak, let's have more drink!" She says, putting her cigarette away to break open a new bottle of liquor.

She then calls for another dancer to dance on the pole in the middle of the booth and throwing money at her at ease like those papers that gathered on the table doesn't worth months of rents but all that money is not enough to make you happy.

All that money and you can't afford something as simple as love.

Felix manages to not get drunk but what surprised him is how you manage to stay sober after drinking that much. You walk steadily and in straight line in your high heels, the only problem is you can't find the keycard in your purse.

"Let me help you," Felix offers, waiting for you to hand him his purse so he can search it for you.

You have it tucked between your wallet and he hurriedly open the door to your suite, keeping the door open for you. Without waiting for you, he pours a glass of water for you and next to the pitcher of water, he sees that someone has sent a bottle of champagne into your room.

He also notices there's a card that comes with it but before he can read it, you snatch it and throw it straight into the bin.

"Can you check what we wrote on the match result?" You tell him, pulling the bottle of champagne out of the bucket of ice.

"Yes, sure, give me a second," he pulls his phone out of his slacks and opens the webpage to Sports One, it's not hard to look for the article it's the top of the page.

"Read it to me," you order.

But he sees that you're struggling to open the wine, "I can help you with—"

"Read it to me," you repeat your words to him.

Felix better not make you repeat for the third time, so he starts reading the article out loud while you pour yourself some wine, drinking it the first one in one go and refill it again.

"Do you want some?" You suddenly interrupt him in the middle of him reading the article.

"No, thank you," he politely refuses.

"Just one drink," you coax with the glass is already in your hand.

"Okay," he caves in, putting away his phone to receive the glass of wine from you.

But instead of that, you sit on his lap and drink all the wine yourself. Using your thumb, you pull open his mouth and slowly, pouring the wine straight from your mouth.

After so many things that happened tonight, he doesn't expect another thing to happen again but here he is, opening his mouth for you and swallowing the wine you feed him.

Felix finds himself in a situation he once was in and he gets a sense of deja vu.

You wipe the drop of wine escaping the corner of his mouth with your thumb and hold his jaw as you look at him.

"I wonder if you can make it better again," you mutter with those eyes filled with sorrow.

Whatever it is you're going through, he wants to take it away from you or at least, makes you forget about it, even for a fleeting moment. He doesn't know if he can make it better but he can try, and he's willing to try.

Felix decides to take his chance and says, "Yes."

Felix meets a different you tonight, not the one who's been bossing him around for the past two weeks but also not the one he met on that eventful night.

The one he's meeting right now is simply a girl who seeks a solace in him and he gives everything in him to give you that.

He kisses you with his hands tenderly holding the side of your face while you're tearing open his shirt so you can roam your hands on his body.

He tilts your head to the side and cupping your face in one hand while the other is groping the your back, looking for the zipper of your dress. You eventually guide his hand to the side of your body where the zipper actually is.

The ripping sound of your zipper being part open is echoing in the room and he slowly pulls the sleeve of your dress, not wasting any second to place a soft kiss on your shoulder. He then drags his lips across your collarbone before pulling the dress down, revealing your body and the matching underwear you're wearing underneath.

He makes a trail of kisses down the front of your body even though he has to drop to his knees, he looks up at you as he kneels in front of you with his hands on each side of your hips.

He presses his lips against your abdomen and softly mutters, "You're so beautiful."

You slip your hand into his hair and tenderly gaze into his brown eyes as he places another long peck on your lower abdomen.

Felix continues his trail of his kisses to the side, placing little kisses down your thigh. To give him more access, he lifts your leg and put it on his shoulder so he can easily plant his mouth on your clothed sex.

"Oh," you loudly moan the second his hot breathe penetrate through the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

That only encourages him to open his mouth wider to take more of you, using his tongue to trace your folds and then gently suck on your bundle of nerves.

You grip his shoulder for support as he continues his delicious assault on you, until your underwear is soaked wet with a mix of your essence and his saliva.

Seeing that you getting a little imbalance from standing on one foot, he hurriedly gets up and wrapped you in his arms again. He kisses you deeply and passionately, in one swift move, he lifts you off your feet and carries you to bed. He then carefully lay you down and hovers above you.

You take the chance to remove his shirt and toss it away, then pull him for a kiss, a kiss that seems to you is more essential than breathing.

As kisses being exchanged between your lips and his, pieces of clothing are taken off until there's nothing left on both of your bodies. It's his skin rubbing against your skin, creating heat that sends the temperature rising and keep on rising.

Felix takes his wallet out of the back pocket before letting the slacks drops onto the floor, taking the foil packet from one of the compartments.

He takes a moment to concentrate on putting on protection, sitting on the end of the bed and slowly rolls the rubber down his stiff cock. Once he makes sure he puts it on properly, he joins you as you sit with your legs open on the bed.

Felix crashes his lips against yours again while his hand dives into your wetness. He slowly pulls away to take a breath in between kisses and about to kiss you again when you suddenly back away, the first thought that crosses his mind is he does something wrong.

"What is... what's wrong?" He stammers, licking his lips in confusion.

"I have one condition," you tell him.

That's a relief to know that it's not about him at all but he gets curious to find out what's that one condition and why you choose now to tell him.

"Okay," he says with a faltering eyes.

You grab his chin and bring his face close enough that your warm breath fanning his lips, "You can't stop until I tell you to."

You lay your hand flat on his chest, tilting your head to the side and gently nibble on his lower lip, "Get it?"

Felix can't back out now, not when he's all aroused and his cock is swollen and throbs to be inside you, and his focus is easily swayed by your hand that is lightly caressing his abs.

You tilt his head and force him to look at you, "I can't hear you, baby."

He hasn't said anything but it's obvious that you demand a verbal answer from him, whether he agrees to the one condition or not.

"Yes," he hastily replies before you take his silence as refusal.

"Yes," he says again with a repeated nod.

You reward his obedience with a deep kiss on his lips and pull away with a smile on your face, then you roll over to lay on your stomach and part your legs open for him, exposing your gushing entrance to him.

Felix swallows hard at the visual that makes his cock twitches between his legs.

You slowly look over your shoulder at him and catch him just looking at you with wide and lustful eyes. You take his hand and put it on your waist.

"Lie on top of me," you instruct.

He does what you ask, positioning himself between your legs then slowly, laying himself on top of you. His elbow propped against the mattress to keep himself from crushing you.

"Mmh... oh," you moan into his mouth as your lips collides in a rapturous kiss once more. You're guiding his hand to your breast so he can fondle at it while he keeps kissing you.

After a moment, you grip his forearm and mutters, "I don't think I can wait anymore."

He kisses your open mouth, "Yeah?"

"Put that beautiful cock inside me now," you say in a very casual manner like you didn't just make him wait a long time to do that.

Felix takes a moment just to prepare himself, making a trail of kisses down your spine and stopping as his lips land on your ass cheek. He's kneading on it, feeling your ample flesh that mold into his hand and finally, slides his fingers down to your wetness.

You're so hot and wet, and you're jutting your ass up for him, ready to take him. Oh, he can't find anything sexier than this.

Felix can't wait for another second, he wants you, his body is aching for you so he aims the tip of his cock into your entrance and slowly, sinking himself into you.

He can't hear himself moaning but he can hear yours, low and hoarse with your hands crumpling the sheet under you.

"Oh, my... so good," you hum into your pillow.

Felix lies onto your back again, giving you the closeness that you seek. He kisses you along your shoulders, your neck and up to your neck, and ultimately, your lips that endlessly offering him the sweet taste of your kiss, all while rocking his hips himself into you at a steady pace.

"Harder, harder," you demand while grabbing his hand that rests next to your hand.

It's taking everything in him not to come, he doesn't want to disappoint you by not following the one condition you set for him. He can't stop because you and you're nowhere close to tell him to stop.

The sounds of his hips slapping against your ass is making him losing his mind, along with the faith he has for himself that he can adhere to your one condition.

As if you sense it that his conviction is waning, you intertwine your hand with his and whine, "Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Felix takes a deep breathe while keeping the motion of his hips going, relentless thrusting himself into you while actively telling his brain not to shoot his load yet.

"You're so deep, oh... I can feel you everywhere," you whine, pulling him close by the neck to kiss him.

The kiss breaks as you loudly moan and your eyes are screwed shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his cock hitting you right on the spot repeatedly.

"Keep going, oh..." the rest of your sentence is incoherent ot his brain is clouded with lust to be able to process it.

Felix puts all of him into it, his strength and the last shred of sanity that still clung to him, he doesn't care that he's growling like a hungry animal.

It's when you start pushing back against him, he knows that you're both close. A few thrusts later, you both collapse onto the bed as waves of pleasure washing over you.

As for Felix, he feels exceptionally relieved, he got his release and the satisfaction that he successfully kept his promise to you.

The first thing you both do after gained your senses back is to search for each other's lips and locked it together in a breathless kiss.

"I hope you have another condom in your wallet," you mutter to him.

He stiffens against your kiss, bamboozled by what you said. He looks at you and you look back into his eyes.

Softly, you grab his chin and swipe your thumb across his lips, "You can't stop until I tell you, remember?"

It's almost like Felix is repeating that day he first met you. He is in a hotel room, the bed is empty when he woke up and he's naked under the cover. He looks around to confirm that he really spent another night with you again.

However, this time is different. The previous time, you were a mere stranger to him but now, you are his boss and that changes things between you and him.

You're his boss but also someone he's casually having sex with? It does sounds sexy when he puts it that way but this complicates things.

There's a knock on the door and Felix takes that as his cue to leave before you can catch him. He's scrambles to find all of his clothes that scattered on the floor, starting by putting his underwear and his slacks next.

As he works to zip his fly, you appear on the doorway of the bathroom with your hair and skin glistening wet.

"That must be breakfast. Can you get it?" You casually say to him while tying the belt on your bathrobe.

"Yes, sure," he reflexively answers because it seems like its his default now to say yes to everything you said.

Without putting his shirt on first, Felix heads to the door to open it and it's indeed the breakfast you ordered. He lets the hotel staff serves the food on the small dining table and waits until the staff leaves to makes his leave as well.

However, you catch him before he can make his moves, "Coffee?" you offer while lifting the coffee pot to fill a cup.

"Uh... yes," he stammers.

You fill the other cup for him and then turns your head at him, "Aren't you going to sit or...?"

Aware that he's half-naked, he keeps hugging himself and covering his bare chest with his hands as he takes a seat on the opposite of the dining table from you.

"I don't know what you want so I ordered most of everything," you say, carefully taking a sip of your steaming hot coffeee.

That explains the various selections of breakfast laid out in front of him. Not waiting for you to tell him what to do, Felix reaches for the plate of toast and takes a piece, lathering it with butter to finally taking a bite of it while you opt for a bowl of fruits.

Suddenly, this feels normal, you and him having breakfast together on a peaceful Sunday morning.

"The blueberries are nice," you casually say while shoving a blueberry into your mouth.

He's not sure if you're just making a remark or suggesting it to him, but it feels wrong to not responding, "Yeah?"

"Mmh," you reply with a nod.

"Maybe I should try some," he says, getting comfortable talking in a casual manner to you.

Another cup of coffee later, you switch to orange juice, sipping it while reading something on your phone.

"What time is our flight again?"

Felix has to rake his brain to get an answer for you, "I'm sure it's at 3.15," he tells you.

You check the time and nod, "Then we can check out after lunch," you say.

"Do you want to reserve a table for lunch? At one of the hotel restaurants?"

"No, it's fine."

His brain is trained to record everything you said as he knows you don't like having to repeat your orders to him.

"Alright," he responds with a nod while listing everything in his head.

You look up from your phone and look him in the eyes, "You're free for the rest of the morning. You can come pick me up at 1 pm."

Now, he takes that as his cue to leave and time to get back to reality. He finishes his cup of coffee and gets up from his chair.

"I'll get everything prepared," he says.

He goes to the bedroom to pick up the rest of his clothes and putting them on, not forgetting his wallet that somehow ended up lying under the bed.

He knows he has say something to you before leaving the room, "I'll excuse myself."

You put down your glass and prop a hand under your chin, "Felix?"

He makes a 180 turns and looks at you, "Yes?"

"Keep in mind that you're working for me so when you come back here, we're going to act professional," you tell him with a rather assertive tone.

Felix knows well that it's not a request or a command, it's how things should be and he agrees that he should be able to keep these two things separated.

"Are we clear?" You ask for confirmation.

"Crystal," he shortly replies.

A week later, Felix finds it easy to keep those two things separate when his personal life is almost nonexistent and you keep things strictly business.

It's almost like that night never happened and that version of you seems like a distant memory to him now along with the one he first met that night, the girl who walked into the hotel barefooted.

The version of you he's having now is the workaholic and it's fitting since it's the busiest time at Sports One office, everyone is busy preparing the annual issue.

The main focus is the exclusive interview with the golf legend, David Kent and you carry the most important task of all that is to write it.

Felix has been struggling to keep up with everything, his eyes never stray away from the computer screen, scanning through emails and responding to them as fast as he could.

Before something else pops up on the computer screen, he rushes to the pantry to make himself another cup of coffee to keep functioning.

"I've never seen you worked this hard," Yoon appears from behind him as usual.

"Not today, Yoon!" He stops her before she continues dragging him down the gloomy path.

"Okay. Fair enough," she says, taking a paper cup from the pile and fills it with coffee.

He only left for a few minutes to peacefully enjoy his coffee but when he comes back, he finds you standing behind his desk, going through his computer.

Hearing his footsteps, you glance up and glare at him, "Why aren't you on your desk?"

He's never heard you this upset and tense, he knows he should answer you properly, "I was getting coffee but I—"

"My office!" You cut him off and trudge your way into your office.

You never cut him off, ever so this only means that you're not upset, you're furious about something and he doesn't know what is it. He's just standing there flummoxed, wondering what got him into this situation.

You appear from the doorway of your office and glare at him, "My office. Now!"

Oh, no, Felix just made you repeat your words again so he wastes not another second to get into your office and closes the door before standing in front of you, ready to face the music.

"Is there something—"

"On the schedule, it says that the second interview with Mr. Kent is today at 4pm," you say with your jaws clenched.

He knows your schedule by heart so he nods to confirm, "Yes."

"Then why did I get a call from his assistant telling me that he has left for Japan?" You lean forward on the desk and intensely staring into his eyes.

Flabbergasted, Felix lets out an awkward chuckle and says, "But that doesn't make sense. They can't just reschedule without informing us first."

"They actually sent an email about the reschedule to you."

His palms start to sweat so he rubs them down the side of his jeans, "The last time we corresponded was about the questions for the interview."

"I checked your emails and it's there. I even saw that you read it but didn't forward it to me," you're not only refuting his words but also catching his errors.

"I would have known if they sent me the email, I would have—"

"It was sent last night at 8.23pm to be exact," you come with a definite answer.

Fuck! Yesterday, he was busy running around the office and preparing meetings while at the same time, busy calling the clients for you. He may have skipped through the email without he intended to which makes him responsible to this.

You shift to one side of your chair and give him a judging look, "You know what Felix, you could have prevented it from happening."

He starts to sweat all over knowing that his job is on the line but it's strange that what he hates the most is making you disappointed in him, and probably, the whole office too since it's the exclusive interview.

"You could have doublechecked everything and confirm it with his assistant..." you pause to let out a sigh, then you snidely smile at him and continue, "But you didn't."

He makes this mess therefore he has to clean it up, he quickly thinks of something to solve this, and he'll give everything in him to take responsibility.

"I'll do anything to make up for it. I'm sure we can make a new appointment or..." he's stuttering, conveying a few solutions to the issue.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" You say with a calm yet piercing tone, "He left for Japan an hour ago."

He has to wait until he lands so he can try and arrange a new meeting. Even if he did manage to secure an appointment, he has to fly to Japan for the interview and that takes more time, and it's only days away from the release of the annual issue.

In other words, there's nothing he can do to fix it.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Felix," you say as you press your fingers to your temple.

"I've been working with you for more than a month now and I was right about my first impression on you, you don't have what it takes for the job."

There's a lump forming in his throat but the more he swallows, the more it's clogging his windpipe, making it hard for him to breath.

"But I told myself to give you the benefit of the doubt and well, you did the job in which we paid you for, an adequate assistant."

His hands are trembling so he clasps them together to not let you see them while continously listening to you even though every word you said are rather sharp and hurt him in places.

"And now, I'm not sure that you're still an adequate assistant," you finish your sentence with a heavy sigh.

His jaws are clenched and unclenched, he's mad but not at you. He's mad at himself and he deserves to hear every word you said.

But he'd rather have you screamed and called him stupid than have you just quietly sitting there and looking at him in profound disappointment.

After a moment passes in agonizing silence, you pick up your phone and start scrolling to find something,

"You're dismissed," you bitterly say to him.

Felix doesn't want to back down without, at least, offering his help to fix the mess he made.

"I'm sure I can help you with something," his voice deepens, heavy with resentments.

You look up from your phone and look at him again, "What you can do now is reconsider whether you want to keep doing this job or not."

That feels like a hard slap on his face and he knows he's not welcomed here anymore. He gives you a nod to excuse himself out of your office since he can't seem to mutter any words without getting emotional.

With heavy steps, he walks back to his desk and collapses onto his chair. It seems like no one knows what just happened in your office and that's good, he wants to wallow about everything by himself.

He roughly runs his hands through his hair and leans back on his chair, the deep breathe he took are not helping to lessen the tightness in his chest.

He's thinking about what you said to him, replaying everything in the back of his head and he hates himself more for that. Moreover, he did what you asked him to do, reconsider whether he wants to keep his job or not.

One thing becomes clear to him, he's truly unfit for the job.

He rolls his chair toward his desk, opens his computer and starts working on his resignation letter.

The next day, you're not coming to the office.

Usually, you would have notified him about it so in case a client asks for you, he knows what to say. It seems like you're no longer consider him as your assistant.

Felix should be glad because that means you're expecting him to quit his job so handing you the resignation letter wouldn't be a surprise to you.

Since he's still employed, he continues his job, answering emails and taking calls for you, explaining your absence as much as he could to whoever asked to speak to you.

"Heard you messed up yesterday," Yoon appears from behind his computer this time.

Of course, Yoon knows about it and won't pass the chance to celebrate his downfall with a fake, emphatic smile.

"No need to say it, I know," she says, stopping him from answering it.

Felix doesn't have the energy to deal with her so he lets her dancing on his misery while he mindlessly reading something on his computer.

"Do you know why she's not coming to the office today?" Yoon curiously asks.

He wants to make up something but she'd know that he's lying so he decides not to even try, "I don't know."

"Well, I know," she says with a bragging smile.

"And I don't want to know," he hastily responds, but he's not really mean it. He actually wants to know why you're not coming to the office and if it has anything to do with him.

Yoon comes into his desk and sits on the edge while hugging a bunch of files close to her chest, "I'm going to let you know anyway," she says.

He pretends not to care about it and keeps his focus on the article that he's not reading at all.

Yoon leans to his side and whispers, "That's because she's in Japan."

He stays unbothered even though he's been trying to read the same paragraph over and over again.

"Not only that someone got her another appointment with Mr. David Kent but also lent her his private jet to take her straight to Japan," Yoon adds, sounding excited to tell him that.

Without looking, Felix knows Yoon is seeking any reactions from him but he's not going to give her the satisfaction.

"I did my own research and I kind of figured who that generous person is..." she says while nodding her head, then she lets out a chuckle, "But I'm not going to tell you that because you don't care."

Felix almost turns his head and glares at her for not telling him about the mysterious guy doing all the extra efforts for you.

Yoon hops off his desk and goes around his desk, "You know what? I'll tell you about it later," she teasingly says just to annoy him.

She starts walking then stops after a few steps, she turns around to look at him, "That if you didn't get fired by the end of the day," she makes a snide remarks with a laugh that echoing behind her as she walks away.

Felix is not getting fired, he chooses to resign from his position. Knowing that you won't be back soon and he doesn't want to wait the whole weekend to prolong the pain, he decides to put his resignation letter on your desk before he leaves today.

When he gets back to his desk and grabs his backpack full of his things, his heart gets heavy. He believes it's not coming from knowing that he's losing the job but knowing that the last impression he made on you is not a pleasant one.

The worst thing is that would be the last time Felix saw you.

Felix shouldn't think much about it but he keeps guessing what your reaction would be when you found his resignation letter on your desk.

Surprised? Not likely.

Angry? If it's the way he delivers his resignation letter then yes, you'd be likely angry.

Sad? Definitely not. He won't even dare to think that you feel the slightest bit of sad about him leaving.

It's Saturday night and instead of going out to fully enjoy his freedom, he stays in and mope around, making himself miserable in each passing hour.

The knocks on the door are so faint that he thinks he's imagining it. He doesn't order food but maybe he did and forgot about it.

"Coming!" He shouts toward the door as the knocks come again.

He opens the door with zero expectations and finds you standing there, he has to take a double take to make sure that it's really you.

"Hi," you greet with a smile.

Felix got used to seeing you in your formal attire of shirts and tight skirts, but now you're dressed casually in a simple blouse and blue jeans.

"Hey," he innocently greets back and it feels strange saying that to you.

"Am I welcomed or should I leave?" You ask as he just stands there looking at you in bewilderment.

"You may come in," he says, awkwardly stepping to the side to let you in.

You step in, clasping your purse on one side while looking around his place as you step further, "It's a nice house."

That's kind of you to say so when you can see how untidy the place is, Felix rushes to collect the dirty laundry scattering out of the laundry basket and puts all the dirty dishes into the sink.

"Thank you," he sheepishly says then notices the mess on the table.

You end up putting down your expensive looking bag on the sofa and stand there looking at him, "May I sit down?"

"Yes, of course, please, sit down, please," he realizes he's acting stupid when he's the owner of the house therefore it's his duty to treat his guest well.

"Can I offer you a drink?" He asks, finding it easy to ask that to you, "Coffee, juice, beer...?"

Why would he offers you beer? You're not one of his male friends, you're a classy lady who drinks wine and can tell the difference between cabernet and burgundy.

"Water is fine," you answer.

"Water, okay," he foolishly repeated out loud. He can hear you lowly chuckling at that and he hurriedly turns around to get you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you mutter your gratitude as he hands you your glass of water and not hesitate to take a small sip.

Felix sits on the smaller sofa across from you and the question finally gets to him: Why did you come here? But he can't just directly ask you that, that's rude.

"Are you living with a housemate?" You curiously ask.

It seems like you notice the other room in the house, "Yes, but he's studying abroad so now it's just me."

"Oh," you respond with a small nod.

Then again, he's the owner of the house, he has the right to ask your intention of why you came here. He carefully picks his words before saying them to you and—

"Do you mind if we order dinner? The last meal I had was on the flight back home," you ask, taking out your phone from your purse, "I'm a little hungry right now."

He refrains from asking and getting up from the sofa, "Not at all. I have a few restaurants numbers here if you..." his words trailing off as he realizes he's babbling again and waddling to the restaurant flyers stuck to the door of his fridge.

"What would you like to eat for dinner?"

Felix once again gets the feeling that this is normal, you and him having dinner together on his small dining table. He's not eating with the girl he works for but a girl who wholeheartedly eating her food and enjoying every bite of it.

After dinner, you offered to wash the dishes but he strongly refused, so now you wander around the house with a can of cold beer in hand and he can't comprehend it. How is it real?

With the silence that settles into the space, he takes this as an opportunity to ask you the reason why you came here. He stands in the middle of the room and slightly leans against the back of the sofa.

"Can I ask you something?" He boldly asks.

You turn around from scanning his shelf full of figurines, "I'm not coming here as your boss if that's what you're asking," you say, playing with one of the figurines.

Maybe that's what his question should be: who are you coming here as? As his boss or...?

"And what you're coming here as?" He asks, genuinely curious with your answer.

You calmly put back the figurine to where it belongs and look at him, "As someone you're casually having sex with," you answer.

So you did acknowledge those two instances and not forgetting them as they were, somehow, he feels a little flustered by the way you put it bluntly like that.

You're slowly making your way to him and each footsteps echoing in the room, making his heart pounding faster and faster.

You stop just one step away from him, "Which brings me to a question," you say.

"Yeah?" His deep voice drops lower without he intending to.

"Can I stay the night over?"

What is it about you that makes him wants to do anything you ask, it's like his default settings to always submit to your wishes. The next thing he knows, you're borrowing his clothes to sleep in.

He's making the bed for you when you come out of the bathroom in his t-shirt that is too big on you and his eyes wander down only to see that you ditch the pants he's lending you.

"The pants is too big," you inform him as you fold your clothes and put the neat pile on top of his dresser.

"You can sleep here and I'll take the couch," he says as he finishes changing the bedsheets.

"Why?" You ask in a rather sad tone.

"I don't think you'd be comfortable sharing the bed with me," he simply answers.

"We had sex twice. I'm sure we're more than comfortable sharing the bed together," you say, climbing onto the bed and getting under the cover.

You're so straightforward and a little too honest, people may mistaken that for rudeness but no to him, he finds it endearing instead.

"Come on! I hate sleeping alone," you entice him by patting the space next to you.

Felix hates how obedient he is to you like he has no power to say no to you, he gets onto the bed and awkwardly lays down next to you.

You take his arm out so you can rest your head on it and you mold yourself to the side of his body, then rest your hand on his chest.

"This is so much better," you hum as you close your eyes.

His heart beats faster inside his chest and he believes you can hear it too but as the moment passes in comfortable silence, he finds himself getting cozy cuddling you, he allows his hand to play with your hair and rests it on your shoulder.

"That day at the office..." you murmur close to his neck.

His eyes snap open at the mention of that day but he remains calm, "Mmh?"

You tilt your head and look at him, "Want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," he honestly says, he hates to ruin this bubble of comfort by talking about it.

You gently hold his chin and turn his head to make him look at you, "I want you to know that what I said... I was being objective toward your job. It has nothing to do with this."

What you're doing is making sure he's not mixing everything up, thinking that you're being personal about his job when in fact, you don't and he's well aware of that.

"I know," he says.

"Then why you seem so mad at me?" You ask with sad eyes.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for disappointing you," he admits, and it feels easy to tell you about it in this setting.

"Oh, baby," You coo, caressing his cheek as you softly gaze into his eyes, "So what are you going to do now?"

"I need to try harder and prove to you that I can be more than adequate at my job," he confidently tells you with a smile.

You place a sweet kiss on his cheek and smile, "And you will."

He doesn't even know where he gets the confidence from but he feels it and it's overflowing, he suddenly feels invincible and nothing is impossible to him.

With the confidence surging all over his body, he leans in and kisses you. From the way you kiss him back and opening your mouth for him, he can tell you want it as much as him. Your hand slips under his t-shirt, running it up his chest and down to his abdomen, trailing the outline of his abs.

"Let me make you feel better, mmh?" You say against his lips and slide your hand down to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Felix already feels hot all over even though your hand hasn't made any contact with his hardening member yet. You tease him by running your hand around his inner thighs, cupping his clothed member and stroke it.

"Oh, mmh..." he moans against your mouth, almost growling when you pull his sweatpants down just enough to let his erection sprung free.

"You're so hard," you mutter to him with a sly smile. You break the kiss to look down and see your hand wrapped around his swollen cock.

Felix can't help but look down as well, watching you feeling every inch of his length with your fingers and using your thumb to tease the tip of his cock.

"So hot," you sigh with your hot breath brushing his ear.

He turns his head to meet your lustful gaze and pulls you into a kiss, a kiss that takes things further as your hand moves at a steady pace, stroking his length and giving just the right pressure to please him.

"Faster?"

He repeatedly nods with a needy whimper that escapes his parted mouth.

You pick up the pace, pumping his cock faster than before while continously placing slobbering kisses on his lips and neck.

"You like that?" You ask with your heavy breathing fanning his neck.

"Yeah," he breathlessly answers.

Sensing that he's getting there, you keep a steady pace and the intensity of your grip around his cock. To help him getting closer to his release, you also keep murmuring words into his ear.

"You're getting bigger in my hand."

"You're going to cum for me, right?"

"Make a mess in my hand, mmh?"

Felix's eyes are fluttering shut as he gets closer to his high, his legs are shaking and his cock is twitching in your hand. You're just too good at this, tirelessly pumping his cock just to get him to his—

"Oh, oh, oh..." a series of moans slipping out of his mouth as he cums.

You don't stop but rather slowing down your pumping as pearly white of his cum spurting out of the tip of his cock and dripping down his length and your hand.

"Oh, fu..." he can't even finish his word, he's overwhelmed with pleasure that washes over him in ebbs and flows.

You press a kiss on his neck and a longer one on his jaw, he turns his head slightly to the side, offering his lips for you to kiss next.

The kiss tastes much sweeter, making him crave for it that he crashes his lips on you again. You let go first yet hold his face close.

"Feel better now?"

Felix smiles at you and answers, "A lot better."

Everyone likes eggs, right? But he doesn't know how do you like your eggs is the problem. Scrambled? Sunnyside up? Boiled? Poached? Or you know, one of those fancy egg dishes.

What is it called? Egg Benedict? He searches how to cook it on the internet and gives up completely after finding out how.

He decides to settle with the simplest and one that he can cook it best, scrambled eggs with toast and a steaming mug of coffee, two creams and no sugar just how you like it.

He puts the breakfast on the tray and cautiously carrying it to the bedroom. He pushes the door with his foot, doing it quietly not to startle you.

Felix finds you still sleeping basked with the sunlight that comes through the window, creating a hazy glow around you and he couldn't find it in him to wake you up.

However, he can't let the breakfast get cold considering that he puts a lot of effort into it. He starts by sitting on the edge of the bed and hesitantly places his hand on your shoulder.

He rubs your arm and then gently squeezes your shoulder, "Hey," he sweetly murmurs.

Not enough to wake you up, he tries again by cupping your jaw in his hand, "Hey, wake up."

Slowly and beautifully, your eyes are fluttering open and warmly looking at him. You take your time to gather your senses and rub the sleep off your eyes.

"Good morning," he mutters with an affectionate pat on your head.

"Morning," you reply with a hoarse voice, and slowly getting up to sit with your back against the headboard of the bed, "I smell coffee."

With a proud smile, he presents you a tray full of breakfast he made for you, he carefully sets it on the space between him and you on the bed.

"You made these?" You ask as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

"What's with the tone of surprise?" He playfully responds.

You softly laugh and decide to start with a small sip of coffee, letting the caffeine helps you waking up from the inside.

"I hope you like it," he says, putting the cutlery close to your hand.

You waste no time to dig into the breakfast, taking a bite of the toast and then followed with a forkful of scrambled egg.

"This is delicious," you compliment him.

You take a piece of toast and feed it to him, "I think we should eat it together."

Starting the day by having breakfast together on bed with you feels exceptionally special and he wants to keep this beautiful feeling for as long as he could. An idea crosses his head but he's not sure you'd go along with it.

"The weather is nice," he says as he tears into another piece of toast.

You look toward the window and nod, "Yeah, it's sunny and nice."

"What do you think about going on a ride with me?" He sheepishly asks.

"On your bike?" You ask.

He doubts that you'd say yes because the last time you got onto his bike, you were holding on for dear life, but he nods to answer your question.

You take a sip of your coffee before coming with an answer, "I'd love that, yeah."

With the jacket and helmet he lends you, you look ready for the bike ride. Since it's your second time riding the bike, he finds you more relaxed than before. He can't see much of your face with the helmet getting in the way of seeing it.

When the bike stops at a traffic light, he finds your hands resting on his thighs instead of around him. He takes them and puts them around his waist yet you slide them down to his thighs again.

"Why? You don't like it?" You simply ask.

He laughs and pulls up the visor of his helmet, "I like it but we have to keep it safe, mmh?"

Instead of around his waist, your hands climb higher to his chest and cupping his breasts, "Like this then?"

He laughs again and taking your hand to kiss it, then putting them tightly around him. He can see you smiling through the small rear view mirror.

"Hold on tight!" He says as the lights turn green.

The summer air feels warm as the bike launches forward through the scenic roads where you can see the whole city from the top of the hill. After getting off the bike, he guides you to walk a short trail that leads to his favorite spot, hidden behind the wall of trees and rocks.

"Wow!" You gasp as you stare at the view, "This is beautiful."

The view would be more beautiful at night but the day doesn't make it less beautiful either, the sun gives a warm glow on the city, making it looks like a dreamscape.

"It is beautiful," he sighs but he's not talking about the view.

He can see that you're in awe of the view, completely mesmerized by it and the whole thing that creates this moment. The bright sun, the summer air, the blue sky, the birds that faintly singing, the rustles of the tree branches whenever the wind blows, but the most important thing here is you.

He shyly takes your hand and holds it close to his side, ignoring that his heart is beating out of his chest as he does it.

"I think you know by now how I got this job," you suddenly start speaking something that is out of what he sets the mood for.

"No, I don't really talked about it with..." he says, then in the middle of the sentence, he remembers that he did talk about it with Yoon, "...anyone ever."

"I don't care with what people say about it because first, this is not a job," you turn your head to look at him, "It's a punishment."

"How is that so?" He asks, suddenly gets curious about it.

"I did something that angered my family so they did that, it's their way to punish me," you answer, sighing as you look at the view as far as you could, "They thought that I wouldn't be able to save the company. They're basically waiting for my downfall as we speak so they can laugh at my face and say 'we told you so!'."

Felix is grateful that he was born into a loving, supportive family that when he heard about yours, he can't relate himself to it at all. How come your own family wishes for your downfall? How come your own blood and flesh treat you this cruelly?

"You see, I have a lot to prove but I don't really have anyone helping me," you sadly admit.

His heart hurts hearing you say that that he tightly holds your hand to let you know that you're not alone, he's right there with you.

"You have me," he says in all conviction.

You softly smile as you look at him, "You don't have to do that."

"But I do. I want to help you," he confidently declares out loud, "I'm not that reliable, I know, but I'll try my best to help you."

You start chuckling and he realizes that he didn't seem as noble as he pictured it in his head, he feels like rolling himself down the hill.

"Oh, God! I'm stupid," he mutters to himself.

You turn to face him, "No. I think that's endearing," you say, then you lean in for a chaste kiss on his lips.

One kiss is enough to leave him dazed for a good minute until he reels himself back to reality. He takes that kiss as a sign that you allowed him to be more affectionate toward you and he's not going to waste this precious moment.

Felix looks out at the view and lets out the loudest scream that's echoing in the sky.

You gasp then break into laughter in reaction to it, "What is that for?"

"Try it! You'll feel good after," he suggests with a devilish smirk that decorates his angular face.

You consider it for a moment then turn your head toward the sky, your eyes are closed to face the blinding sun then let out a jarring scream that seems to help you draining out the pent-up angers inside you.

"That's a good one!" Felix sincerely says with an impressed smile.

You cover your eyes and shyly smile, and Felix thinks he's lucky that he gets to discover you this vulnerable side of you which doesn't make you less amazing, it makes you human.

With this warm feeling flooding his chest, Felix just can't stand there and sharing it through actions. He gets behind you and puts his arms around you, holding you from the back to enjoy the view together.

Your body slowly molds into him and you drop your head to his shoulder, then let out a delightful sigh.

"Thank you for taking me here," you say with your hand delicately rubbing his forearm.

"You're very welcome," he says back with a smile.

Even a beautiful day has come to an end.

Felix makes the most of it by enjoying the ride as the bike gliding through the city streets and taking you back home. He's sad that it's over but the best thing about it is he gets to see you again tomorrow and perhaps, it's going to be a more beautiful day than today.

His bike enters the parking basement and stops by the entrance of your apartment building where he usually drops you off from work.

You get off the bike and unclasp your helmet to take it off, you run your hand through your hair to tidy it as best as you could.

"Thank you for today," you say again as you hand him his helmet back.

"Don't mention it," he says, taking his helmet off too so he can comfortably talk to you.

"The jacket..." you say, realizing that you're borrowing it from him.

He tugs the hem and uses it to pull you closer, "You can keep it. It looks good on you," he says with a seductive smile.

You probably know what he's trying to do here, you put your hands on his shoulders and look at him, "I had fun today."

"Me too," he mindlessly says them back as he gets lost in your eyes.

"I have to go," you say.

"Okay," he says them back, and now that he glances at your lips, he feels tempted to to kiss you.

The attraction is there because why the next thing he knows your face is only inches away from him that he can feel your warm breath against his lips.

"Goodnight, Felix," you mutters to him, then lick your lips as if they're not enticing him already.

"Goodnight," he says back but you know well enough he's not ready to let you go.

He places his hands on each side of your waist and closes the gap between your bodies, he chooses not to kiss you right away. His lips lingering close to yours, rubbing them against yours before finally planting a passionate kiss on you.

If it wasn't for the car that interrupt this intimate moment, you wouldn't have pulled away from the kiss. You smile and place a last kiss on his cheek.

"Goodnight," you say again then take a step back.

"Night," he says, still reeling from the kiss.

"Be careful on the ride home," you say for one last time before walking toward the entrance and

He watches until you get in and dissappear from his sight to get ready to get home. As he rides his bike and feels the wind brushing his skin, he thinks things couldn't get any better than this.

Everyone leaves the office early to attend the release party but you insisted on staying a little longer to make sure everything is ready for tonight and Felix helps you by checking it right on site.

He reports back everything to you through a phone call as you're finishing things up in the office.

"Double check with the caterer again about the extra selection of foods," you order through the phone.

"Noted!" He sats as he jots it down on his note, "Anything else?"

"Pick up my dress and deliver it to my apartment."

"Yes."

"Don't forget to remind the driver to pick me up at 7pm sharp," you conclude.

"Uh..." Felix was thinking of doing that himself and it's the perfect time to tell you, "What do you think if I..."

"Call me if something comes up," you hang up the call before he can finish his words.

There's no time to waste here, with or without picking him up, he'll see you at the party. He does everything on his to do list and the last thing is to pick up your dress at the shop. He got your dress but he also got something else.

"What is this one?" He asks the lady who hands him the dress.

"You are her assistant, right?"

He innocently nods in response.

"This one for you. She made a note that this is for you to wear to the party," the lady says, helping him carrying the dress as to not ruin it.

He refuses the urge to peer inside to see what you ordered for him, he remains firm and safely delivered the dress to your apartment before heading home to get ready for the party.

Felix doesn't call the driver on purpose, he takes the car with him and leaves a little after six to pick you up. He keeps checking himself on the mirror if his tie is askew or his hair stays in place despite the amount of hairspray he used.

The car is parked right outside the main entrance of your apartment building, he pulls out his phone to let you know about his arrival.

"The car is ready outside," he informs you, sparing the detail of who drove it here.

"I'll be there in five," you shortly reply and hang up the call.

The truth is five minutes is not enough to mentally prepared himself, because all of a sudden, Felix gets nervous but also excited at the same time. But knowing that you'll be coming through the doors any minute now, he keeps his cool and fixes his tie countless of times.

When the doorman reaches for the doors, he knows that it must be you. He takes a deep breath and stands up straighter, ready to greet you. However, the second he sees you, he completely loses his cool.

"Wow!" He lowly gasps, gobsmacked by how you look tonight.

You look so perfect in that silk black dress with the high slit on the side, exposing your leg as you slowly descending the steps.

Gosh, where is his manner? He hurriedly snaps himself out of his daze and walks up to the base of steps, offering you his hand to walk down the last couple of steps.

"So, you're my driver for the night?" You ask with a half smirk that quite provoke him in a way.

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a foolish grin.

"Excuse my impertinence but you look divinely beautiful tonight," he genuinely says, just in case you didn't see it by how mesmerized he is by you.

You look at him, taking a moment to see him from head to toe and bring your eyes to his face again, one of your eyebrows raised as you notice the silk tie he's wearing.

"You look not bad yourself," you compliment him back.

Aware that the host can't be late to her party, he hurriedly goes to the car and opens the door for you, not forgetting to offer his hand to help you get inside.

Arrived at the venue, Felix actively assisting you from the moment you get out of the car, helping you make an entrance to the party you host, holding your purse for you, fixing your dress so the photographers can take only the best pictures of you and he's okay being seen like a little puppy trailing behind you.

When you're finally inside, Felix can relax a little, he brings you a glass of champagne for a starter.

"Your drink," he hands your drink to you.

"Thank you," you mutter your gratitude with a smile which makes everything he did for you so rewarding to him.

"You know it's everyone's party and that's including you."

He has to refrain from sipping his own drink as he doesn't fully grasp what you meant by that, "Pardon me?"

"What I mean is you're not supposed to be working tonight. I can always call a driver to get me home," you answer, taking a sip of your wine and leaving a lipstick mark on the rim.

"No, that's okay. I can definitely drive you home," he convinces you.

"But that's what I'm trying to say, you shouldn't be driving me home. You should be drinking and having fun," you tell him, keeping the conversation low as the place starts to fill with more people.

"I'm having fun," he assures you with an easy smile.

You take the glass of juice from his hand along with your purse he's been holding, "Just go and have fun," you tell him again.

Uh-oh! He knows better to not make you tell him for the third time so he reluctantly goes to the bar and orders himself a mocktail because he's adamant to be your driver tonight.

It's not like he doesn't have anyone to talk to, in fact, he knows almost everyone who works on the same floor with him but while he's mingling with other people, his eyes lingers on you.

He gets alarmed when a new guy comes into the scene and you welcome him with a smile, not that courteous smile you always do when you're meeting a client or doing business. It's a friendly smile that he once saw when you met Suze a month ago.

Fortunately, Felix knows where to go when he needs informations and it's not hard to find Yoon, she's somewhere close to where the food is. He skips the small talk and asks right away.

"Do you know who that guy is?" He asks.

Yoon can find you right away since you're the only one looking exceptionally stunning among the sea of boring people in suits.

"You mean the guy who's intimately talking to your boss?" Yoon asks back with her mouth full of food.

Felix's eyes darts to see it and she's right, you're leaning into each other as you speak and you even laugh in between.

"Yes," he answers with clenched jaws.

Yoon washes the food down with a glass of wine, "You don't know him?"

Felix can't tell what pisses him off more, the fact that he doesn't know who's that guy or Yoon for making it obvious to him or both of them combined.

"He's the Kim Seungmin," Yoon says, taking another glass of wine from the server as he walks past her.

"Who?" He asks in confusion.

"Kim Seungmin from the son of the KS Corp, CEO of KS airline, owner of the Huskies Luxe stadium along with its basketball club. What do you mean you don't know?" Yoon says with a judging glare aimed at him.

"You're working at a sports media outlet for goodness sake," she adds, shaking her head as she takes for another piece of canapés.

Well, Felix gets what he came here for even though he has to sacrifice his dignity for that. He's about to turn to leave when Yoon tugs at the sleeve of his suits.

"That's him," she says, struggling to speak and chew at the same time.

"What?"

Yoon takes her time to chew her food thoroughly, making him wait for the answer in anticipation. After a good minute, she swallows it down and finally speaks again, "He was the one with the private jet and secured the meeting with David Kent."

Oh, so not only that he has the look and the money, he's been playing knight in shining armor for you? He scoffs in disbelief and about to storm away when Yoon says something that stops him on his track again.

"And by the way, they're engaged," she adds as she shoves another finger food into her mouth.

He thinks he misheard it so he asks again, "Come again?"

He shots her an intense glare and Yoon swallows her food fast, "They're engaged," she says while wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Who?"

"Those two excellent humans," Yoon says, pointing at you and the guy you're getting too friendly with.

Engaged? If that's true, then why this is the first time Felix heard it? Engaged? He cracks a laugh because it sounds like an absolute bollock to him because that means he's been having sex with someone's fiancée.

Deep down, Felix knows what pisses him the most is that he feels a sense of betrayal from you. Yoon swiftly grabs another glass of wine from the server but he snatches it from her hand and gulps it down in one go.

"Excuse me," Yoon call the server who just came from the bar carrying a tray full of drinks.

"Yes?" The server asks.

"Can we have the drinks?"

"Sure," the server takes two drinks for Yoon and Felix.

But Yoon hands them back to her and takes the tray from her hand, "We need the whole tray. Thank you!"

The server leaves with a befuddled expression on her face while Yoon puts a drink in his hand, "You look like you need it."

Felix knows better that he shouldn't drink tonight and one drink is all he needed. Also, he has something to do tonight that requires him to stay sober.

"You can have them all, Yoon," he says, handing the drink back to her hand.

The party is slowly coming to its end with people starting to leave as the night getting late. Felix decides that it's time to ask you if you're also planning to leave soon. He sees that you're still chatting with a few people on the second floor and he's had enough of seeing that guy latched to your side all night.

He gently holds your elbow to get your attention and it works to make you turn your head to him, "Yes?"

Keeping his tone calm, he asks, "People are starting to leave so I wonder—"

"Who is this?" The guy who makes it to the top of his hate list curiously asks.

Your attention is shifted back to him and you smile as you introduce him, "This is my assistant, Lee Felix."

Huh? You even introduce him by his full name like what he has with you is strictly business and nothing else.

Seungmin smiles and offers his hand at him, again, he's not used with rich people acting like decent human compared to normal people.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Felix," he says to him.

"Me too," he shortly replies, not forgetting to put on a courteous smile as he secretly observes him, trying to get any clues about his personality through his looks.

"So, what were you trying to tell me?" You ask him, turning your body his way and blocking him from his view.

"Just wanting to ask if you're ready to leave," he replies, keeping the conversation private even though Seungmin could hear it with how close he stands next to you.

You look around and see that most of everyone has left, only a few people are still staying for the drinks and the chats, "Maybe in a minute?"

"You know I can give you a lift home and your assistant can go home early," Seungmin offers, putting his drink down in the nearest table.

"No!" Felix surprised himself by hastily answering the question that's not even aimed at him, "I can wait. I don't need to go home."

"You don't to go home?" Seungmin lets out a low chuckle tinted with sarcasm, "You got yourself a loyal assistant."

Felix finds it unacceptable that you join in on the laughter, he feels the need to defend himself that he's not just a mere assistant, he's more than that.

"I'm her assistant and that means she's going home with me," he remarks and regrets it right away for how wrong he worded it.

The radiance on your face dims in a second. You reach for his forearm, holding it and looking him in the eyes as you say, "You can wait for me in the car."

"I can pick you up at the entrance," he blubbers, suddenly feeling like he just shrank into a microscopic size under your stare.

"I said wait for me in the car," you intensely enunciate every word, and he realizes that you just repeated your words which is not a good sign.

"Yes," he hastily responds, then turns away to leave.

Waiting in the car only allowed his thoughts to be louder, Felix finds himself still in denial that you're engaged and he didn't know about it until tonight. Then it all comes back to him, the talk you had with Suze that night and how she told you to 'just marry him' but you said you aren't sure if you want to get married in the first place. If you don't want to marry him, why you smile to him with your eyes crinkled like that?

The pieces of puzzle are slowly coming into place but not enough to show him the whole picture.

Felix is deep in thoughts that he doesn't realize you're getting the door to the car, he's too late to help you getting in and turns his head to check if you're settled in.

"Drive!" You keep your order concise and short, he figures you must be tired and can't wait to get home.

The ride home is quiet and it's not the comfortable kind, it's rather suffocating, he wants to say something but he's afraid of intruding your private space.

You remain quiet even after you arrived home, it makes him hesitate to ask or even speak. Fortunately, he knows where to put your things, he hangs your coat before putting it inside the cloakroom and carefully places your purse on top of the glass table next to the bowl of keys.

Then he realizes that he has to eventually ask you whether you still need him or not, he licks his lips and sets his tone right to ask, "Can I help you with anything else?"

You look at him while carrying your shoes in one hand, "Yes. I need you to come with me."

You don't wait for his answer, you're going to your bedroom and he follows you inside, seeing the bed is neatly made and the room smells of citrus and baby powder, a mix of scents he's greatly familiar with.

"You can sit on the bed while I put my shoes away," you order.

Felix awkwardly walks to your bed and sits on the end of it, waiting for you to come out of your spacious closet. A while later, you finally come out, lifting the hem of your dress as you walk on the carpeted floor.

"What do you think of the party?" You saunter to your vanity with your hands busy unclasping the bracelets on your wrists.

"I think he party went great. Everyone was having fun and happy," he answers, feeling like he's being interrogated despite the simple question.

"And how about you?" You look through the mirror as you remove your earrings.

"Sorry?"

"Did you have fun?"

"I had fun," he shortly answers and hopefully, it sounds convincing enough to you.

"Mmh. Glad to know you had fun," you calmly say, turning away from the table and walk up to him.

A moment passes in silence as you stand therr right in front of him and he's just sitting there, waiting on his fate. Without taking your eyes off him, you reach for the zipper of your dress and pull it down, the ripping sound echoing in the room and building tension in the room.

With overflowing confidence, you take the dress off right in front of him and his breath hitched as you reveal your naked body to him, except for the thin, lacey underwear you're wearing.

"Want to know something?" You place your hands on his shoulders, running them down his shoulder blades to take the suit jacket off of him

He chokes on air as he rushes to answer you, "Y-yeah?"

Slowly, you sit yourself on his lap, naked while he's still fully clothed. You reach for his tie and feel the silky fabric in your hand.

"All night I was thinking of how I'm going to take this tie off of you," you speak so so low it's almost like a whisper.

Felix swallows hard as your lips inches closer to his and your hand is tugging at his tie, "And have you decided how?"

You seductively smile and put your other hand on the nape of his neck, "Oh, I just have so many ideas."

You place a hot kiss on his neck, sending his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, "But I'll tell you one."

"Uh huh?" He hopes his nod conveys his genuine curiosity to your answer.

Your glide your hand down his front until you find his clothed member, stroking it with your hand just enough to feel him out.

You lean in close to his ear and whisper, "The idea is giving you head and let you cum all over my face."

"I think that's a very nice idea," he says, his voice drops lower than usual.

You nod and lowly giggle, you take his hand to place it on your face, making him touch your lips with his fingers, "Just imagine your cum all over it."

"Yeah..." he breathlessly says.

Your part your mouth open, offering him to insert his thumb inside which he wastes no time doing it. He can feel your tongue twirled around his thumb before sucking at it hard, giving him just enough idea how it would feel like to have his cock in your mouth.

"God, you're so alluring," he gasps, feeling overwhelmed with amazement and desire.

You bring his hand down to your breast, cupping it together as you start grinding on him. It's not hard to make him erect with the way you rub your crotch against his growing bulge.

"I want to feel your cock gets hard in my mouth," you murmur with your hot breathe tickling his ear

His other hand joins in, placing it on the other breast and syncing their movements to knead on them, feeling the ample flesh molds into his hands.

As his hands busy playing with your soft mounds, you work on his tie, patiently untying it and seamlessly pulling it off from the collar of his shirt.

You triumphantly smile and joining him to knead on your breasts, before taking his hands away and put them around his back.

"But the way you acted tonight..." you put his hands together and use the necktie to tie them together, "made me change my mind."

Felix feels tricked but weirdly, he remains still as you bind his hands together behind him and make sure it's strong enough he won't break away from it. However, in a moment like this he finds the bravery to ask, "Is it true that you're enganged?"

Displeased with his defiance, you grab his chin to make him look at you, "I think you're getting way too comfortable with me, don't you think?"

He holds your gaze and fiercely looks deep into your eyes, "So I've been fucking someone's fiancée, huh?" He boldly says with a snarl.

You put more pressure around his chin, your fingers are pressing in on his cheeks and then say, "Shut your fucking mouth!"

This is the first time he ever heard you cursing and somehow, he finds it attractive, arousing even. Surprisingly, he finds himself obeying you, he stops talking and closes his mouth as you ordered him to do.

In return, you slowly let go of his chin and get off his lap, "Now, for your punishment."

You pull your underwear down, going fully naked in front of me and he gets frustrated for not being able to touch you. You hold him by the shoulder and look down at him as you crumple your underwear into a ball and carefully shoves it into his mouth.

"You're going to sit still and take your punishment like a good boy, understand?"

Not being able to speak with a ball of fabric in his mouth, he nods in response.

"You should be thankful that I'm letting you watch," you say with a gentle caress on his cheek and a tender gaze into his eyes.

He nods again as he widens his eyes, eager to see what you're going to do to him. You might have said it punishment but to him, it's a proof that you care for him, because if you didn't, then why would bother punishing him anyway?

"Sit still. Be good," you warn him again as you slowly lowering yourself until you kneel on the floor and sit between his legs.

Felix constantly reminds himself of your warning and lets it be the only thing that fills his head, endlessly echoing in the back of his head. Even though he's not sure how long he can do it as you start working open his belt and unzip his fly.

"Ah..." you let out a delightful sigh the moment you successfully take his member out of its confine.

Felix can't find what's more arousing, the way you wrapped your hand around his cock or how you're slyly smiling at him while you're doing it, or... how he can't do anything but watch you doing all that.

"Have I told you that you have such a pretty cock?" you murmur, using your thumb to play with the tip.

Without looking, he knows that he's blushing from your compliment. You think his cock is attractive and he really needs to unbox that at some point.

"It has the perfect length," you say, lightly trailing the length of his cock with just the tip of your index finger.

"The perfect girth," you continue by putting both of your hands around his cock, rubbing it at two opposite directions.

"A little curved but that's how I like it," you come closer to his crotch, allowing you to rub his cock on your nipples, "With cute pink tip."

It's obvious that he wants you so much yet you keep playing with his cock, teasing it, touching it as you please and rub them in between your breasts. He gets it why it's a punishment, he's being punished for real.

"I've been taking you well, right?"

With the underwear stuffed to his mouth, he answers with a muffled yes and repeated nods.

You softly smile and tip your head to the side, "Do you think I can take you well with my mouth too?"

He hastily responds by repeatedly nodding his head, the need to feel your mouth around him overpowering him, controlling him.

You're batting your eyelashes at him as you say, "Watch closely as I take you in my mouth."

Felix widen his eyes and holds his breath, not wanting to miss any second of it. You firmly hold the base of his cock and you slightly stuck your tongue, then slowly, you put him into your mouth.

His groans turn into muffled whimpers with your underwear that is soaked with his saliva in his mouth. You feel hot and slick and soft around him, it's close to what it feels like being inside you but it offers him a new, different sensation.

He doesn't know how you make your eyes wide and innocent like that as you twirl your tongue around the head of his cock, pressing your tongue onto his slit before taking all of him at once.

No matter how much he wants to keep watching, Felix tilts his head upward and screws his eyes shut, overwhelmed with pleasure.

You may not be able to take all of him in your mouth and compensate the rest with your hand, but oh, that doesn't make it less pleasurable to him. He so badly wants to put his hands in your hair and keep your hair away so he can see the way his cock slips in and out of your mouth.

He can't stop muttering words even though he's aware with your underwear in his mouth.

"Keep going."

"Just like that."

"Please don't stop."

But he tries so hard to make his silent cries are heard, he knows you're using the noises he makes as your guide to please him.

The full length mirror showcases your beautiful figure as you kneel, bending down and continously bobbing your head between his legs, a view that feels like it comes straight out of his wild dreams.

All of a sudden, you abruptly stop when he gets closer to his release but he can safely assume you did it intentionally, it's called a unishment for a reason.

"Not yet," you murmur, slowing your pumping around his cock and use the other hand to tenderly cradle his balls.

His legs are trembling and his whimpers turn breathless, he's on the brink of it but you keep holding him back from plunging into his release.

"You should have thought about it before you acted like a jerk earlier, mmh?" You say with an insinuating tone and one eyebrow raised higher than the other.

He cries his regret while bobbing his head, agreeing to whatever you said because they're all right, you're right and he's wrong, therefore he deserves this punishment.

You get up from the floor and take a seat on his lap again, putting your arms around his shoulders as you look him through your half shut eyes.

"You think you're so hot with your pretty face and your pretty smile," you say in a mocking tone, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

Then again, he finds it arousing instead of humiliating so he stares back into your eyes, daring you to say more mean things to him.

"You think you're so hot with your smile and your deep voice, mmh?" You press little kisses on the sensitive skin behind his ear.

To provoke you, he nods, agreeing to what you've just said about him. In reaction, you let out a series of chuckles with your hand fisting the collar of his shirt.

"And you think you're going to get what you want with this attitude?"

This is where he's feeling conflicted. A part of him wants to keep rebelling just to see how far he can push you or vice versa but another part of him wants to keep obeying you like a good boy like you asked and he's very well aware how pathetic he is for that.

"Maybe your other head can help you think," you say, holding his cock in your hand again and aims it toward your entrance.

While maintaining eye contact with him, you lower yourself down on him and watch him slowly crumbling under you. The feeling of being buried in your warm, velvety walls change his mind almost immediately.

What Felix wants is simple. He wants you, he wants you so much.

You begin rocking your hips back and forth, slowly yet intensely. Your part his shirt open just enough so you can place kisses all over his neck and chest with your hand feeling the muscles on his abdomen.

He can hear you hold you breath whenever you intentionally clench around him and let out a sigh when you let go, it's all fun and games to you as you enjoy watching him struggles to contain himself.

For him, it's one hell of a torture.

Your mouth inches closer to his ear and he tips his head to the side to give you access to it. You're nibbling on his ear and then lowly whisper, "I must say that I love your voice though."

He looks at you, giving you pleading eyes and hopefully, you'll give him what he wants.

You press your mouth to his ear and continue your sentence, "But only when you're moaning, whining and begging in my ears."

You finally take your underwear that's been gagging his mouth and he can see that it's soaked with his saliva before you drop it to the floor and you don't wait to kiss his open mouth like you've been wanting to do it.

Felix kisses you back as hard as deep, can't believe that he's making it this far without your kisses, it makes him even more thirsty for you, craving for the taste of your lips.

"Are you going to be good now?"

Even though he's able to talk, he nods his head to you instead but it's enough to make you triumphantly smile.

You put your arms around his shoulders as you plant another kiss on his lips while keeping the motion of your hips going, fucking him so good that moans are spilling out of his parted mouth non-stop.

"Are you going to cum for me?" You murmur.

He nods again.

You caress his cheek with your knuckle, "I can't hear you, baby."

That means you demand a verbal answer from him, he gulps air to clear his throat and speaks for the first time in a while, "I want to cum."

You place a long kiss and talk against his lips after, "You forget to say something," you remind him.

Felix knows exactly what you want to hear from him and he wastes not another second to say it.

"Please..." he pleads.

"I want to cum, please," he desperately says again.

As a reward for his obedience, you hold up your breast and put it in his mouth which he enthusiastically takes, he starts sucking on it and not waiting for you to give it to him to switch to the other breast.

You're tightening your hold around him as you pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock faster and faster while he moans with his mouth full of your ample flesh.

"You want me to keep going, yeah?"

"Yes, please, yes," he manages to form a coherent answer despite his brain is barely functioning.

You can sense his high is nearing as his moans turn into low growls but that doesn't stop you from keep going. He takes more of your breast and latches his mouth to it, sucking it at it harder the closer he gets to his release.

For him, it's no longer a punishment when pain and pleasure blur into one.

He lets go of you breast with a loud pop with a string of saliva connecting his lips and your nipple, "I'm so close, so close," he says.

"I know, baby, I know," you coo, putting a little more intensity into your thrusts.

On the first sign of his cock twitching inside you, you hurriedly pull him out and replace it with your hands, continue the stimulations with your hands restlessly pumping his cock.

"Now, cum for me," you encourage him, "Be good and cum a lot for me."

It doesn't take long for him to cum after that, his eyes are tightly shut and low grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as pleasure filling him to the brim and overflowing out of him.

You indulge him with kisses on his neck and lips even though he's still reeling from his high, then reach to the back to let go of the tie around his hands.

Felix sighs in relief as his hands are finally free but you notice his wrists are red and rub hem to soothe it, "Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head and puts his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, "It's okay. I'm okay," he reassures you with a sweet smile.

You smile back as you put your hands around him, leaning in close to sweetly kiss his lips, "We're not engaged. Not anymore."

"Huh?" He is too focused on this blissful moment to even remember the conversation he had with you earlier.

"I broke the engagement," you say again, you hold his face with both hands and briefly kiss his lips, "And I don't want you to question me again."

That's all he needs to know and you don't need to ask whether he believes you or not, because the only person he believes is you and if you say you're not engaged with anyone then that's the only truth there is.

"Thank you for telling me that," he sincerely says as he softly gazes into your eyes.

And just like that, Felix has unlocked a new part of you, a part of you that you don't share with just anyone and that makes him feel special. You make him feel special and things couldn't be better than this.

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

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taexual · 11 months ago

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sleepwalking ● 15 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, SLOW BURN, ANGST (including some miscommunication due to alcohol & descriptions of anxiety)

words: 10.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 15 ► i had the whole damn world and i gave it all away, what did i think i would save?

Waking up on a good day was not a pleasant experience for Jungkook. But waking up that morning in Tilburg felt a bit like having his brain pulled out through his nose with a metal hook.

The bus was dim—was he on the bus? How did he get here in the first place?—and the slightest light coming from the skylight made his eyes sting. His head seemed to split in two, and his whole body felt as if he had deliberately allowed a lawnmower to run over him.

So this was a hangover, then.

He hadn’t had many of those in his life, which of course, did not indicate how often he drank. Maybe he had lost his ability to drink without getting really drunk. Or maybe he drank so much that even this ability wasn’t enough.

“You awake?” a voice asked, and the kaleidoscope of sharp echoes in Jungkook’s head forced him to retreat further into his bunk.

“Why,” he uttered, each word like fire in his parched mouth, “would you yell?”

A chuckle in response helped him identify the speaker as Hoseok.

“You’re the only one still sleeping. Everyone else is getting pancakes for breakfast,” he said. “Do you want to know what ‘pancake batter’ is in Dutch? Word on the street is, pronouncing it three times in front of the mirror will kill you.”

“I will kill you,” Jungkook retorted, “unless you can bring me some water. Please?”

Amused, Hoseok walked to the back of the bus where the mini-fridge was. He grabbed a bottle and brought it to the younger member before settling on the edge of his bunk.

“Here,” he said. “Why’d you drink so much last night in any case?”

It took incredible effort for Jungkook to sit up, but he managed—while groaning and moaning, and glaring at Hoseok each time the older boy chuckled at his exaggerated struggle.

Jungkook took the water bottle and emptied half of it in one gulp, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The bitter aftertaste lingered in his mouth, and every word he spoke still felt like acid.

“I can’t remember,” he said, even though something inside of him told him that this wasn’t true. Apart from the pain, he also felt this heavy unease—as if he had an apocalyptic event scheduled for this afternoon, and he needed to prepare for it, hence the excessive drinking. “I’m sure I had a reason.”

Hoseok assumed as much and he asked, “did something happen?”

“I—” Jungkook interrupted himself when he threw his head back to finish the rest of the water. This didn’t help either, and now his stomach felt uncomfortably heavy. He said again, “I don’t know. Can’t remember.”

“I saw you leave the venue with—”

“I remember that,” he said quickly as if he was afraid to hear the conclusions Hoseok had drawn after seeing him leave with you.

“Where’d you two go?” Hoseok asked.

“To this park,” Jungkook said, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers as he tried to bring last night back to him. He remembered kissing you. Unless he’d dreamt that, of course. Both options were likely. Neither was acceptable to say out loud. Weakly, he continued, “uh… I don’t really—we talked there.”

Since Hoseok did not know what had really happened between you and Jungkook at that park, he followed up with the logical question, “did you have a fight?”

“No, we…” Jungkook sighed. Another memory returned, this one more vivid than the kiss he thought he remembered—which was a shame. He would have preferred the kiss. He opened his eyes and looked at Hoseok questioningly, “Namjoon called her. Yoongi’s laptop?”

“Ah, yeah.” The older boy laughed. “They went to McDonald’s and left it there. Then they got so wasted, they forgot about it.”

Jungkook snorted weakly. “Idiots.”

It gave him great pleasure to say the word, because for once, it wasn’t him who was being described here.

“Just like you, huh?” Hoseok teased nonetheless. “Seems like everyone had a reason to drink last night.”

Jungkook ignored the gentle jab and focused on remembering you.

“Did you see her this morning?” he asked.

Hoseok nodded.

“Did she seem angry?” Jungkook continued, hoping for a clue about the rest of the night. The last thing he seemed to remember was the truck stop. He was alone in his memory, but he assumed that was because you hadn’t returned from finding the missing laptop yet.

Jungkook didn’t think you had gone drinking with him last night; he seemed to remember—or just assumed—that you had left before he got drunk. And he realised that he knew why he got drunk – he was worried about the bet and how he would tell you.

He thought he remembered talking to someone about this last night, but it couldn’t have been you, because he recalled being called “son.” It must have been someone else at the bar, then. Maybe the bartender.

But what happened afterwards? Did his chest hurt so much because he still hadn’t told you?

“No. She didn’t seem angry,” Hoseok said. “But she’s never angry with me because I never give her a reason to be.”

The teasing smile on the older member’s face made Jungkook grimace. “Good for you.”

Hoseok chuckled because he didn’t get to see Jungkook like this often. Usually, the entire band was wiped out with a cursed hangover, and Jungkook was the one obnoxious ray of sunshine in the room. Hoseok and the others always thought this was unfair. Clearly, this morning was a welcome change.

“She seemed okay,” Hoseok said. Then, more seriously, he asked, “you think you did something? Besides getting drunk, I mean.”

The younger boy exhaled and watched the bedding on his bunk for a minute. It was black and seemed even darker in the shadow inside the bus. It did nothing whatsoever to jog his memory.

He was worried that he had done something very terrible. Not worse than having made the bet in the first place, but terrible nonetheless.

What if he’d missed his chance to tell you and someone else had told you first? Probably not Sid, because he may have been an absolute dickhead, but he needed to win the bet fairly to be satisfied. But what if—

Taehyung, he thought suddenly.

Taehyung knew. What if he’d found you while Jungkook was in the bar?

You tell her or I will, Taehyung had said to him back in Amsterdam.

What if he had told you everything because he couldn’t bear to keep it to himself any longer?

Jungkook had seen how distressed the bassist was. He had noticed how he kept avoiding his eyes when they were in the same room.

Groaning, Jungkook pressed his palms to his forehead and strained to remember something. Did he talk to you after you returned with the laptop? What did he say? More importantly, what did you say that left him half-paralysed with this unidentified worry?

“I… don’t really…” Jungkook tried to cling to a memory and see what happened next, but his thoughts remained muddled. Did he kiss you in the park before or after you told him about your parents’ tumultuous relationship?

“Did you drink together?” Hoseok enquired, slipping into investigator mode as he crossed his legs on Jungkook’s bunk. He thought he was being helpful, but Jungkook felt pressured into giving answers that wouldn’t reveal too much—you’d rubbed off on him, he supposed. Or maybe he just didn’t want to upset you any more than he may have already had. “Or did you get drunk after she left to find the laptop?”

“After. I think,” Jungkook said. “I was driving before.”

“Driving?” Hoseok repeated, visibly surprised.

Jungkook waved his hand dismissively. “Long story.”

Hoseok noticed that Jungkook was struggling to speak in longer sentences, as evidenced by his colourless face as he shrank away from the skylight. He decided to quit questioning, assuming it was a hangover that plagued the younger boy.

Instead, he shared his last memory, hoping it would be helpful: “I think I heard you come back. At about nine.”

It was not helpful.

Jungkook frowned and asked, “you were already awake?”

“Well, Namjoon and Yoongi caused a scene on the bus earlier,” Hoseok explained, shrugging one of his shoulders. “They woke everyone up and I couldn’t really fall asleep after that.”

“Oh.”

“But I can’t help you with anything else. Sorry,” he said, biting his lip. “Maybe once your hangover wears off, you’ll remember.”

Jungkook lowered his head because it started to burn when he attempted to shake it in response.

Stubbornly, he mumbled, “I’m never hungover.”

Hoseok was about to laugh but he managed to contain it to a soft snicker. “Well, you’re hungover now, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What time is it?” Jungkook asked.

Hoseok had to check his phone first.

“Eleven,” he said.

“Eleven?” Jungkook repeated, his mind fighting against him as he tried to piece the timeline together. “I only slept for… if you saw me at nine, then I only slept for—wait, and you said you hadn’t slept at all?”

Hoseok shook his head, but looking at his phone had distracted him. Truthfully, he hadn’t told Jungkook everything he knew.

He had seen Minjun half-carrying a drunk Jungkook onto the bus at around eight-forty this morning. Hoseok remembered the time because his phone had died about a minute later, and he didn’t get to finish the Falling in Reverse album that he had been listening to on a loop that night.

Minjun’s presence might have sparked a memory, but Hoseok decided not to mention it. He preferred it when Jungkook’s friends weren’t involved in the situations that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten about, and he didn’t want the younger boy to go looking for said friends right away.

“Get something to eat,” Hoseok said, getting up from the bunk. “Pancakes. That’ll help you.”

Eating didn’t sound terrible, but it wasn’t that easy. For one thing, standing up seemed almost like a Herculean task right now—Jungkook was only slightly exaggerating here: he could extend a hand. But a leg? Not so much. And walking was probably completely out of the question.

“Yeah, fine,” he said as he lowered himself face-down onto the mattress, preparing to get out of the bunk—either by crawling or rolling out. “But I need to wash up a bit first. Somehow.”

“Yeah, that’d probably be good,” Hoseok agreed. “You reek of a bar.”

Jungkook glared—more at his pillow than at Hoseok—and mumbled, “thanks for the help.”

“Anytime!” Hoseok said with his usual good-natured laugh. He watched Jungkook try to stand and decided that the younger boy had brought this on himself, so it would do him good to find a way out himself, too. Approaching the door of the bus, Hoseok added, “I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t hurt yourself!”

Straining and grunting, Jungkook managed to wash up, despite his almost unbearable headache and the cramped bathroom of the bus—it was, really, just a toilet and the smallest sink imaginable. He slammed his knees into the wall twice and kicked himself in the shins one and a half times.

He could still taste the whiskey in his mouth, and he thought he could still smell it on himself as well—he’d need a proper shower, maybe several, to get rid of that—but he felt a little better. The improvement was barely noticeable, but it was there, and he got off the bus with a lighter step.

He wondered if the restaurant outside only served pancakes, as Hoseok had advertised, or if they were also prepared to make some other dishes, such as the greasiest, oiliest chicken possible.

When he got off the bus, hoping to find out, he first spotted Hoseok who was lifting his chin and pointing forward, gesturing for him to go on.

Jungkook turned his head and immediately saw you standing right at the entrance of the restaurant. He forgot all about Hoseok and the food.

Right away, he felt an odd sensation in his stomach; something that transcended worry and turned into outright terror. He watched you for a minute, almost petrified. His feet refused to budge as if his body remembered last night better than his mind.

You noticed him in the middle of your conversation with Luna. You saw him freeze first, then eventually start to walk towards you. Right after your eyes met, you looked back at Luna briefly and turned to enter the restaurant without a second glance in his direction.

This was, of course, hardly the reaction Jungkook had been hoping for because one of your last interactions that he could remember with questionable certainty was a kiss.

The horror inside him grew. Something must have really happened last night—something so horrible that his mind chose to drown in alcohol rather than remember it.

Maybe he had found you after Taehyung had talked to you last night, and he’d attempted to make amends, but he was too drunk to tell you everything he needed to tell you…

He had to find out. He had to fix it.

Jungkook walked past Luna, gave her a quick nod hello—and cringed in pain when he moved his head, therefore missing the glare she gave him—and went in after you.

He called out your name, then touched your shoulder. You turned around very slowly, almost reluctantly. He suspected that if he hadn’t touched you, you would have ignored him altogether.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You gave him one look – maybe even less than that – and turned away, taking a small step to the side to escape his touch.

Before you looked away, it seemed to him that you hadn’t slept at all. He knew you well enough to recognise that. He also knew you well enough to recognise the obvious disapproval on your face—as if you were talking to Sid and not him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What happened last night?

“I don’t have time,” you finally said, and his panic deepened.

“Please?” he asked, trailing behind you as you walked towards a table by the window in the farthest corner from the entrance. You’d chosen it as your workspace, but Luna had persuaded you to have breakfast with her and the boys first.

Right away, Jungkook spotted Taehyung, Luna and Yoongi on the other side of the restaurant—all three of them were watching Jungkook follow you.

“I appreciate the manners,” you said as you walked, “but I still don’t have time.”

Close to despair, he whispered—as if your friends could overhear your conversation from across the room, “d-did something happen last night?”

This finally made you turn around and look at him.

Suddenly, he wished you hadn’t.

There was a look in your eyes that reminded him of something. He couldn’t quite place that look, but he felt his chest tighten so much that his heart could barely fit inside, the beating violent and terrified.

It wasn’t anger that he saw when he looked at you. It wasn’t contempt, either. Nor disgust, nor revulsion—it wasn’t anything he had expected to see.

It was a weary disappointment—as if you had been worried about something for a long time, but still hoped it wouldn’t happen, and it did. It happened. And Jungkook realised in horror that he was probably what you were worried about.

“No,” you said, deciding that it wouldn’t do either of you any good to argue here. It scared him, this split-second decision that you made. He wanted you to shout at him, he wanted to see the fire in your eyes. He was afraid of the emptiness he found in them instead. You finished, “nothing significant happened at all. Not last night, or any night before.”

Your words disturbed him. It sounded—and his head began to pound much harder than his heart—like you were talking about all these weeks in Europe. All that the two of you had done together.

He swallowed the concern on his tongue. He still felt half-drunk and three-quarters hungover, so he didn’t know if the assumptions he was making were a result of a hangover paranoia or if he’d interpreted everything you’d said correctly. Honestly, he didn’t even want to know. But he had to ask.

“W-what is that supposed to mean?”

He realised he was clinging onto a tiny, pitiful hope that he’d seen the look in your eyes in a distant nightmare and not right in front of him at the truck stop last night. It seemed more and more unlikely the longer that he waited for you to speak, but while he breathed, he hoped.

“It’s supposed to mean that you need to get something to eat and join the rest of your band,” you said, picking up your coffee cup from the table next to you. Jungkook noticed that there was nothing else on it, just a stack of papers, your laptop, and your phone. “I have work to do.”

Suddenly, he wanted to pause this uncomfortable exchange where the two of you stayed quiet about more things than you expressed. He wanted to tell you that it was you who should have got something to eat. He wanted to remind you not to overwork yourself.

But the way you looked at him was an alarming indication that it wasn’t his place to say these things to you anymore.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—

“Did you…” Jungkook tried to choose his words carefully. “Did you talk to someone last night? After we got back from the park, I mean?”

You looked startled somehow as you swallowed your coffee and set the empty cup down. Then you gave him a smile with not one bit of humour or kindness behind it, and he felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle with horror.

You did talk to someone. And he made the mistake of asking who it was.

“I didn’t talk to anyone important,” you finally said.

That was enough to confirm all of his foreboding senses.

“You know,” he concluded breathlessly.

Looking away instead of acknowledging his vague—but obviously correct—statement, you picked up your belongings from the table.

“I know enough to see that you need to eat and then sleep this off,” you said. “You smell like a bottle of Jack Daniels.”

You tried to walk past him, but Jungkook moved to block your way.

“Who told you?” he pressed.

You raised your eyebrows at the question.

“Are you—okay.” You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. You tried to phrase your next words as tactfully as possible, aware that you would have a large audience if you raised your voice here. “It’s a little mind-blowing to me that you think the issue here is who told me. And it’s a lot mind-blowing that you dare to ask me that.”

Uncomfortable under your affronted gaze, Jungkook blinked and looked away. His heavy head was slowly dragging him to the floor, and he leaned against the table for more support.

“I—I’m really sorry,” he said, not daring to look at you again because the emptiness in your eyes was so discomfiting that it felt almost unnatural. He realised, painfully, that he’d taken all of your timid glances for granted. He missed them now—so much.

But as soon as the apology was out of his mouth, he immediately remembered that he had said the exact same words to you. Unfortunately, he had said them to you many times before.

This could have been déjà vu.

It could have been a memory from weeks ago.

But it also could have been a memory from last night.

Now you were hesitating. You didn’t know what he was apologising for specifically, and you suspected that he didn’t know, either. Then you finally nodded your head.

Jungkook worried that you’d come to a decision—a final one, to make up for all the previous times you’d claimed this was final but hadn’t meant it.

Now you looked like you meant it.

You didn’t offer him any relief from his misery and gave him no hints of what had happened after you returned from the park.

Instead, you said, “eat something,” and walked around him.

He didn’t stop you this time. He knew he couldn’t.

But he also knew that he would find you as soon as he figured out how you discovered the truth and whether he talked to you after that.

You joined Yoongi, Taehyung, and Luna at a table in the annexe of the pancake restaurant, right next to a wall-sized window with a view of the vast, completely empty fields of green behind the building.

“Everything okay?” Luna asked as you sat down in the remaining empty chair by the table, next to Yoongi.

You were uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on you. You knew they’d witnessed the exchange you’d just shared with Jungkook, but you didn’t know what they thought they saw.

“Absolutely,” you replied in a manner so manufactured that they could all tell it was insincere.

While you pretended to be interested in the food that your friends had ordered for you, Yoongi glanced at everyone by the table one after the other.

“Is, uh, something wrong?” he asked, fixing his gaze on you. “With Jungkook?”

“No,” you said. Again, with a noticeable bitterness. “Some tension, that’s all.”

Yoongi was still processing your revelation about Reconnaissance. Yesterday, he had told you that you didn’t have to tell anyone else about it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d really meant it. He assumed you could guess as much. And now he was starting to think that you’d told Jungkook about it, after all.

Carefully, he asked, “did Jungkook get mad at you for not telling him about… things?”

Yoongi wasn’t very good at being discreet. You saw Taehyung frown as he looked up at you.

Taehyung was understandably confused. He thought it was Jungkook who hadn’t told you “things.” Why would he be the one getting mad?

“No,” you said to Yoongi. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad here. But it’s fine. I just—I’m not even—I just need a minute.”

Huh, Taehyung thought to himself as he continued to eat in silence. You were obviously seething. Something must have happened.

He had suspected that Jungkook was going to tell you last night when the two of you left together (and, naturally, Taehyung went to find Luna right after witnessing your exit, so he could finally calm himself down). But if Jungkook told you—what the hell was Yoongi on about?

“Well, wait a second,” Yoongi pushed, also very confused. “What do you mean? Why are you mad?”

To him, it seemed like you were prepared to handle the news about Reconnaissance on your own. He thought it was possible that Jungkook had reacted very negatively when you told him and he’d said something upsetting. He knew the vocalist would be unhappy if he found out that you were getting offers to leave Rated Riot.

That would explain—sort of—your emotions. And if that was the case, Yoongi was prepared to interfere.

“Did he say something to you?” he asked. “If he’s upset about this… possibility, then I can talk—”

“Yoongi,” Luna cut in with a rushed whisper. “I don’t think this is about Reconnaissance.”

She was quick to figure out that you had told Yoongi about Nick’s offer—it wasn’t difficult, considering Yoongi was about as vague as a treasure map with a giant X on it. She wanted him to drop the topic before you were forced to admit that this was actually about Jungkook’s bet.

Luna could tell from your body language when you saw Jungkook—and from the way you were about to bend the fork in your hand right now—that you finally knew about the bet, too.

Taehyung, on the other hand, remained simply baffled.

He knew about the bet, sure. But he looked up from his plate again, and correctly guessed from the frowns on everyone’s faces that he was the only one who did not know about this Reconnaissance business that Luna had just mentioned.

“Reconnaissance?” he asked. “What about Reconnaissance?”

He appeared to enjoy saying the band’s name and seemed oblivious to your cringing every time he said it.

You looked up at Luna first—her eyes were wide as she realised that she shouldn’t have mentioned the band outright. To make matters worse, it suddenly occurred to her that you didn’t know that she and Taehyung knew about the bet, so you must have been confused as to why she would divert the topic so suddenly and plunge you straight into a different awkward conversation.

But before she could apologise, you turned to Yoongi, who lowered his head as soon as he met your eyes. He realised that he couldn’t ask Luna what she’d meant—what else could you and Jungkook argue about?—because there was a more important discussion waiting to happen.

You cleared your throat.

“Nothing important,” you finally said. “Their manager contacted me the other day about an open position in their staff, but I told him I wasn’t interested. I mentioned this to, uh—to Luna. And to Yoongi, too, a few days ago.”

You chose not to reveal that Maggie and Namjoon also knew about this, so Taehyung wouldn’t feel as left out as you assumed you had just made him feel.

There were several things that Taehyung struggled to process here. He tried to look at his girlfriend for help first, but Luna purposefully made herself busy by drinking her orange juice. Then he glanced over at his bandmate, but Yoongi turned his entire body away from him to look out the window.

Clearly, neither one of them wanted to explain why they weren’t questioning you about this, so it took Taehyung a minute to find his words.

“But this is…” he started, then paused. “It’s big!”

“Yeah, I—well, you know,” you said while knowing that he didn’t know. You felt guilty and uncomfortable having to explain this right after he found out that you’d kept it from him. “I-I’m happy here. I like what I do. I would—I’d have far less responsibility, but a lot more pressure if I went to work with them.”

Taehyung considered this.

“It would be a great opportunity, t-that’s true,” you added, sounding increasingly uncertain as you spoke. “They’re million-dollar sellers. But I don’t—I want to reach that level with you guys. Not join someone who’s already at the top. Where’s the fun in that?”

You smiled as you finished, hoping to soften the impact of the news. Taehyung finally allowed his muscles to relax a little as he leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his iced tea.

“I see,” he said, placing the glass back on the table. “Okay. So, you’re staying. Right?”

You were on the verge of responding—because you thought you’d just be repeating yourself again—but then you stopped.

You said you were happy here.

You said you weren’t interested in leaving.

But you didn’t, technically, say that you were staying.

You’d said it to Maggie and Luna, and then to Yoongi and Namjoon. But that was before you allowed yourself to confront your feelings for Jungkook while he just tried to win a bet against Sid.

And now you were hesitating.

When you eventually nodded, the assurance from your lips sounded far less convincing. “Mhmm. Yes.”

Silence settled at the table until Luna, still feeling guilty about the slip-up (she would apologise to you as soon as the boys were out of earshot), changed the topic to something completely unrelated: namely the sights she thought would be interesting to see once you were in London.

You hoped to avoid discussing Reconnaissance again, but Nick’s offer had suddenly gained more weight in your mind.

As you returned to your designated workspace after breakfast, you remembered the pros and cons list that Maggie had suggested back in Oslo.

The pros of leaving Rated Riot and joining Reconnaissance had expanded dangerously following your conversation with Jungkook last night.

You worried. You didn’t think you would actually leave, at least not just because of this ridiculous bet. But the more you thought about it—and the more you remembered that Jungkook’s friends were right around here somewhere—the more you couldn’t help it.

Would it really be so terrible to continue your career with a band that had a massive following and did not have your ex-boyfriend as a member, and his good-for-nothing friends as a persistent shadow?

Contrary to what Hoseok had promised and what he had expected himself, eating didn’t make Jungkook feel better. If anything, it only made him feel more irritated.

As he mindlessly chewed the pancakes—which were probably delicious, really, but they tasted like napkins in his hungover mouth—he went over the conversation he’d just had with you.

Again, he arrived at the same conclusion: you knew about the bet.

But everything else in his mind was speculation.

He might have talked to you after you found out, and he might not have handled it very well.

He might not have talked to you after you found out, which was just as bad.

He realised then, with a sinking feeling in his cotton-filled stomach, that he might have also been the one who told you about it.

That would have almost been good, he’d meant to tell you—but when he was sober. And, ideally, without forgetting about it the next day.

He hoped desperately that this wasn’t what had happened. But he needed to know for certain.

He had concluded earlier that only one other person could have talked to you about this, so he pushed his plate away and looked around.

He didn’t spot Taehyung here anymore. But Luna was standing by the cash register.

He stood up and approached her right away.

She didn’t look particularly pleased to talk to him, and Jungkook quickly surmised that she knew about the bet, too. He fully expected this since Taehyung considered her mind an extension of his own. Now, Jungkook thought, he had even more reasons to talk to him.

Luna informed him that Taehyung had felt tired and returned to the bus for a short nap. She said she was waiting to grab some dessert for him.

Jungkook couldn’t thank her for the information quickly enough.

Acting solely on instinct, he ran out of the restaurant, flung open the bus door, and marched inside. He was glad to see that the bus was empty except for Taehyung lying in his bunk.

“Did you tell her?!” Jungkook fired immediately. He wasn’t sure if he’d meant to sound so accusing—he was simply frantic to learn what was hiding in the dark spots of his memory.

Flinching at the sudden shouting that he managed to hear over his music, Taehyung opened his eyes and sat up. He paused the song on his phone and raised his eyes.

He didn’t have to ask what Jungkook meant.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” he said as he pulled his earpods out of his ears and slid them back into their case.

“I saw you talking to her after the show last night. Did you find her and tell her later?” Jungkook demanded through agitated, heavy breaths. “You were with her and Luna at the restaurant just now.”

“I didn’t see her after you left. And all I said to her after the show was that she should talk to you,” Taehyung explained, displaying more patience than most people would under the circumstances. “And I didn’t really talk to her much at the restaurant.”

Slowly—because he was fuming, and the entire bus was red—Jungkook accepted that this was most likely the truth. Your response to him changed after last night, not after the concert. He assumed it was because you’d talked to someone while he wasn’t there, but maybe Taehyung wasn’t that someone.

Again, he remembered Sid. He could still ask him, he supposed, even if he doubted that Sid told you.

But there was a very big problem with this plan. If Sid found out that you knew about the bet, he would immediately amplify all of Jungkook’s problems by claiming that someone broke the rules of the bet—even if Sid was the one who told you.

He’d organise a manhunt, Jungkook didn’t doubt it. Or maybe he’d just blame Jungkook straight away—never mind that the bet ceased to exist to Jungkook the moment he barged into Sid’s room in Amsterdam, and demanded they ended it.

No. It was better to keep Sid out of this.

Jungkook swallowed and shuddered faintly when he felt the bitter aftertaste of everything that he’d drunk last night.

“Did you tell anyone?” he asked Taehyung.

Looking down, Taehyung brought his tongue over his lips. “Well...”

“Anyone other than Luna, I mean.”

“No. You asked me not to. I only told her after I assumed—”

“Okay, well,” Jungkook cut in, guilty suddenly, about forcing his friend into this. “C-could Luna have told her?”

“She could have,” Taehyung admitted. “But she was with me the whole night. And besides, she agreed that it should be you who tells her. That’s what I thought you were going to do last night.”

Jungkook shut his eyes and exhaled so deeply that Taehyung could feel it on his face from two metres away. “I don’t… I was—it would have—”

Interrupting his miserable struggle to construct a full sentence, the older boy reiterated, “we didn’t tell her. Honestly, I assumed that you did.”

Taehyung had had doubts before, but seeing Jungkook’s uncontrollable frustration right now convinced him that you must know about the bet.

Still, Jungkook’s confusion confused him.

It had to be Jungkook who told you. Who else could have?

“Well, I was—” Jungkook swallowed before charging, “actually, wh—what—what right did you have to tell her to talk to me? After I specifically asked you not to tell anyone! She obviously understood that something’s up.”

Taehyung looked offended at the outburst.

But Jungkook couldn’t control himself.

The longer he stayed away from you on the bus, the more he hurt. The more he understood that none of this mattered—not who told you, not what he said to you afterwards.

What mattered was this: he had made the bet. And you knew about it.

And now he wasn’t sure what would happen next and the guilt and the fear and the hurt could not fit in his chest anymore. He desperately needed a real, tangible something to blame his pain on. He needed someone else to be at fault.

“Something is up. And she’s our manager,” Taehyung said. “And you clearly need… managing.”

Childishly, Jungkook retorted, “you don’t know what I need.”

“You told me, because this was bothering you,” the older member said. “I was trying to help you do the right thing.”

Jungkook frowned so deeply that a permanent wrinkle was slowly beginning to form on his forehead. Then, he finally relaxed his face and stopped moving altogether—to breathe instead. And to think.

Perhaps, he thought as he rushed to inhale and exhale as if he was being pursued by the invisible horrors that he had battled last night and this morning—perhaps the look in your eyes that he’d seen today hadn’t come from a nightmare, after all.

It couldn’t have been Sid who told you. And it wasn’t Taehyung. It wasn’t Luna.

You looked at him like it was him.

“It—it must have—it was—” He inhaled and held his breath for one, two, three seconds. “You’re right. I-I must have told her. It was—I did—I-I told her.”

Taehyung watched as acceptance darkened Jungkook’s already hopeless eyes.

“I was really—I still feel kind of drunk, but I was even more wasted last night,” he continued, staring at the floor. He was breathing so rapidly now that he could have powered every streetlight in this whole city if they ran on oxygen and not electricity. “Maybe I was the one who told her. No one else could have, and it—it should have been me anyway, but I—it was—”

“Okay,” Taehyung said, quickly realising the direness of the situation. He put an arm around the younger boy’s shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Jungkook hadn’t realised he was standing.

He didn’t feel Taehyung lower him onto his bunk, he didn’t feel the soft mattress underneath, he didn’t feel his friend’s hands around him.

All he felt was an oddly familiar tremor taking over his body—as if he’d already been here, shaking uncontrollably in another life.

Taehyung was aware of the predicament that Jungkook was in. Really, he was. But, honestly, he was proud of him for telling you the truth. He probably shouldn’t have felt this way, considering that telling you about the bet was common sense, but he couldn’t help it.

He was glad that Jungkook had chosen honesty—even though Taehyung hadn’t really given him a different choice, and the truth had made the younger boy nearly transparent as his shoulders hunched under his friend’s touch.

Taehyung wanted to believe that this honesty, despite how much discomfort and pure pain it brought Jungkook, signified growth. And with growth came the decision to choose better friends.

However, telling you about the bet and then forgetting about it? That was bad. Taehyung didn’t want to imagine how bad.

He sighed, releasing one breath in the time that Jungkook released ten.

“Maybe you should talk to her. When you’re a little more put together,” Taehyung suggested, hoping that a clear plan of action would calm Jungkook down.

“She won’t talk to me,” he said, and his breaths grew more ragged.

“Ah.” Taehyung raised his head knowingly. He needed a moment to compose himself before he admitted that he knew this would happen—and that Jungkook deserved this silent treatment just a little bit. “Yes. Well… That—that was to be expected, I would think.”

Despite his words, there was a comforting warmth in Taehyung’s eyes that Jungkook missed because he was too preoccupied with fighting his inner demons. He remembered something else—a sharp tension in his lungs, much like the one he was experiencing right now, as he struggled to contain everything that he was inhaling: revulsion and regret, despair and dread.

He had told you. He couldn’t remember it exactly, but he knew he had.

Jungkook managed to raise his eyes.

“W-what—what do I do?” he asked in between breaths.

Taehyung sucked his lips in. “I have no idea.”

Jungkook groaned as he ran his shaking fingers through his hair and pulled away from the other boy.

“For fuck’s s-sake,” he hissed, then took another unsteady breath. “You could—you could try being more helpful, you know.”

“You could try giving me less attitude, you know,” Taehyung returned. “Considering your position.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose irritably but refrained from arguing. His breathing began to slow as he shifted his focus from regretting the past to fixing the future.

“Fine,” he said. “Sorry. Please help me figure this out.”

There wasn’t much that Taehyung could have helped him with, and they both knew it. What Jungkook really needed was just encouragement that this wasn’t over yet. That he could still do something and hope for a positive outcome.

Taehyung contemplated this for a minute. A part of him honestly thought that this might be over. But as much as he valued honesty, he knew that sometimes it wasn’t the best option.

This was one of those times.

Not to mention, there were two sides to this coin.

The first was that you and Jungkook had known each other for years before you began to work together. Taehyung virtually knew nothing about your relationship prior to Rated Riot. He knew nothing of your history together. Maybe there was potential for resolution, after all.

However, the other side of the coin was this: you had an incredible opportunity to work with one of the biggest rock bands in the world. And even though the vocalist of this band was prone to alcohol, he was not prone to toxic friendships—at least as far as Taehyung knew. Not to mention, you hadn’t dated anyone in Reconnaissance, which had to be a massive plus after all that had just happened here. And so, although you said you would stay with Rated Riot, no one would have blamed you if you left.

Taehyung sighed.

This was a very, very unpleasant situation, to say the least.

“Alright. There’s something you should know,” the older boy finally said. “I don’t know if it’s going to be helpful for you, but, um… sh-she got an offer to work with Reconnaissance.”

Jungkook heard the way all the sounds inside the bus and inside his head and even inside his chest suddenly ceased, leaving only a faint buzzing.

He wasn’t sure what was buzzing. Maybe he hadn’t realised he was screaming.

“Wh—what?” he asked after a loaded minute. “She—what? When?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung said. “I just found out today.”

“So, she’s—what? She’s leaving?”

“I don’t know.”

Jungkook got up from his bunk and spun around, restless all of a sudden, as he ran his fingers through his hair again, messing it up even more. “Fuck.”

Taehyung gave him a moment to process this.

“What do I do?” Jungkook repeated, his breathing uneven again. Taehyung tensed when he heard the panic return to his friend’s voice. He stood up, but couldn’t reach Jungkook as he paced away from him on the bus. “What the f—what do I say? S-she won’t talk to me. Fuck.”

“Give her some time, then,” Taehyung said—quickly. Because he could tell that Jungkook was approaching a concerning new level of distress. “She just found out about the bet. This must have been quite a shock to her. It was shocking for me, and I have nothing to do with this. So, imagine how she must feel.”

“Okay. But it’s—what if she—”

“She’s not impulsive,” Taehyung cut in, guessing the younger boy’s concern. “She won’t just get up and leave. But if you keep pushing right now while the—” He clicked his tongue, looking for a more sensitive word. “—while the shock is still fresh, then you might end up pushing her towards the wrong decision.”

That sounded reasonable. Painful and terrifying, too, but reasonable, nonetheless.

Jungkook slid his hands down his face and spent a minute inhaling and exhaling in two-second increments. Then he nodded and looked up at the other boy.

“Yeah. Okay,” he decided. His head still felt like he had stolen it from a bronze sculpture—heavy, yet completely empty. But he thought he was gradually getting used to the pain. “You’re right. Okay. So, I should wait, right? Just… wait?”

“That’s what I’d do,” Taehyung said. “Wait.”

And so, waiting was what Jungkook did. For exactly six hours.

By then, everyone had already returned to the bus for the trip to Cologne, and the French bus driver had finished half a pack of cigarettes. You were unaware that it was just you and Jungkook left outside—you were still on the phone with the other roadies—and Jungkook used that to his advantage.

Anticipating your usual excuse of being too busy, he prepared in advance and spoke to the bus driver to find out the scheduled departure time. He learned that he should have enough time to have a proper conversation with you or, at the very least, address some of the drunken confessions that he must have made last night.

He had promised himself to hold off speaking to you in hopes that his mind would clear and he could remember a bit more—anything other than this suffocating misery that still kept him in a relentless chokehold today. But that promise was in vain.

He couldn’t wait.

“I need to talk to you,” Jungkook said as soon as he saw you come out from behind the bus.

Just as he had expected, you shook your head. “Now’s not the right—”

“We still have twenty-five minutes before we leave,” he said.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be ahead of schedule,” you argued, but he refused to move, so you couldn’t reach the bus door. “The equipment team had already left. We have to—”

“Please. Give me five minutes,” he said. “Please.”

As you were beginning to look away from him, your eyes involuntarily lingered on his face for a moment longer, and you felt your heart make the decision for you. You’d give him five minutes.

Really, the ache in your chest was just an excuse, as you realised in a fleeting moment of sober clarity. Your mind didn’t want to walk away from him, either.

He looked hurt—he had no right to look that way, not after what he’d done—but the look in his eyes still cut into your already wounded heart a little more.

You couldn’t remember if he had looked like this last night. All that you could see after he told you about the bet were the dangerous ripples of the ground beneath you and the unyielding darkness surrounding you.

You’d listen to him, you decided. That was all that you could still offer him.

“Fine,” you conceded, realising that you had a weakness, and it was standing right in front of you.

Jungkook inhaled—he’d managed to get his breathing under control in the past few hours—and straightened.

He’d seen this before, he thought. This moment that hadn’t even happened yet already echoed in his mind like a forgotten passage from a book that his grandmother had used to read to him—about heartache and the eventual happily ever after. He was too young for those books, really, he just wanted to be in grandma’s room longer. But he remembered the glistening tears in her eyes as she turned the last few pages, and he, too, found himself rooting for the people in the book.

Surely, then, if this was the painful part of the story—the part where the two characters couldn’t look at each other at the same time—then you had to be approaching the conclusion? The happy ending that he found himself dreaming about for the first time in Paris?

All that was left for the two of you was to resolve it all.

“I was very drunk last night,” he started. “I should have told you the truth before I got drunk, but the way the night unfolded… it didn’t work in my favo—okay, that—that sounds like an excuse. But I want you to know that I had the intention to tell you all along. It wasn’t something that I decided on a whim after I had some drinks.”

“Hmm.” You were staring at your shoes before you pursed your lips and glanced up at him. “And, uh, what about the bet? Was that something you made on a whim?”

Something very unpleasant churned in his stomach. He felt queasy.

“I did,” he admitted. “I was—it was—I thought it would prove a point.”

“Did it?”

“No. All it proved is that I made the wrong choice of caring about what my friends thought of me, when I should have cared about what you thought,” he said. His jaw was clenched, but his face was soft and almost fragile. You looked away again. His words sounded clumsy when you weren’t looking at him, when he didn’t know if you heard him. “I-I’m sorry. I swear I meant it when I said I loved—”

“Look,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t really see the point of this conversation, so maybe—”

“Okay—okay, just—listen,” he said in a hurry, raising both of his hands to the back of his head in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. Reluctantly, you returned your gaze to his. “I-I wanted to say that you can ask me, or say anything to me. I want to talk. Give me a chance to explain.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, though,” you said, and he felt his heart fall and thrash in the cavities of his chest like a frightened, dying fish out of the water.

He tried to remember if this was what you’d said to him last night—this brutal declaration that you’d run out of words—perhaps right after he told you about the bet.

It would have explained why he felt smothered the whole day—as if your decision to talk to him directly influenced his decision to breathe.

“Okay,” he said, swallowing something sharp in his throat. “Well, what about Reconnaissance?”

Your eyes widened for less than a second before you composed yourself. It confirmed to him that everything Taehyung had said was true.

“How did you—?” you began to ask, but Jungkook didn’t let you finish.

“Taehyung told me. You didn’t—you told everyone, but you couldn’t tell me.”

Despite the twinge of guilt in your stomach, you still thought this was an unfair accusation. You hadn’t told everyone. And Jungkook was the last person who could have reprimanded you for keeping a secret.

“This has nothing to do with you,” you said.

“How—” he started, then cut himself off with a scoff. “You’re leaving, and it has nothing to do with me?”

“I’m not—I’m still here, aren’t I?” you countered, changing your mind about making a promise to stay when chaos roamed free in your mind.

Jungkook recognised the hesitation in your eyes. He felt his anger grow at the possibility that you were genuinely considering this.

“Yeah, but for how long?!” he accused. “I thought—I thought we were finally on the same page about everything, and—”

“Oh!” you exclaimed; the single syllable so full of irony that he stopped talking immediately. “On the same page, are we? Okay, then, let me see if I got everything right here.”

There was that fire in your eyes—the one that he had wanted to see.

He felt equal parts terrified—because he couldn’t predict what you’d say next—and hopeful—because you were finally talking to him—as he watched you instead of replying.

“You made a bet with Sid about us,” you said—short and sharp. Jungkook thought he flinched, but he hoped you didn’t notice.

“Yes,” he said. “And I—”

“He said we wouldn’t get back together, and you said we would.”

Jungkook nodded, his throat suddenly too swollen to speak.

“And if you lost,” you continued. “You had to give up your Katana.”

“Mmhm.”

You paused here, frowning. You weren’t sure if you’d forgotten this part or if he hadn’t mentioned it last night.

“And if you won?” you asked.

He felt an unpleasant warmth wash over him at your question.

“I’d, uh—I would have gotten $10,000,” he admitted, his eyes darting between you and the ground. “And, you know. Uh, also you.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “Double win, isn’t it?”

He cringed at the sarcasm.

You continued to watch him with narrowed eyes, but you couldn’t really see him, blind to everything but the raging fury that swirled inside you, pounding on the walls of your chest to get out.

It wasn’t even the bet that you were mostly angry about, not really. You were angry about his choices in general. About his constant need to do whatever his friends told him to. About his utter lack of ability to stand up for himself—and for you.

You were angry that you were back to where you started, back on the doorstep of his dorm room four years ago, when you said you were done, and he did nothing to stop you from leaving.

You were sure you’d had a point you wanted to make when you brought up the bet a few minutes ago, perhaps to counter his attempts to blame you for not telling him about Reconnaissance. But you didn’t want to make any points anymore.

You didn't even want to speak.

“It really sounds fun,” you commented dryly. “Shame you didn’t win.”

“Y-you’re—but I-I don’t care if I win or lose,” he stammered, anguished by your dismissive tone. “That’s why I told you about it. The bet was a mistake. But I can’t turn the fucking time back, even though I really fucking want to. So I’d rather tell you and lose it than win it and lose you. There’s nothing I want more than—I’m—I just want to be honest. And I was honest. Every time I told you how I felt, I meant it.” He inhaled, rushing to get all his words out before he truly lost you—he saw the way you positioned your body away from him as soon as he mentioned honesty. “I was drunk when I told you about the bet, I know. I shouldn’t have been. But I told you, and—”

“See—no,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to feel good about that. You forgot that you told me.”

“I…” his sentence broke off. “I-I did. Okay. That’s true. And I’m sorry. I was really—I was drunk.”

“You’re always fucking drunk.”

You finally turned away as you groaned and allowed the wind to tangle your hair around the hood of your jacket.

You were exhausted of these same old excuses: either he was drunk, or he was with his friends. Sometimes both.

You thought you’d walked away from all of this four years ago. How had you ended up back in the exact same place? Why did you think it would be different this time?

Sid was still here. And his endless games were still here, too.

“Oh.” You remembered suddenly and turned back around. “Was this what the Paris trip was about? When we went to Kihyun and Chloé’s wedding? Is that why Sid didn’t want me to go with you?”

Jungkook closed his eyes. “It’s, uh… yes. It’s sort of what started the, um—the whole thing. But it wasn’t—I actually wanted to go there with you, it wasn’t—”

You hummed, cutting him off—as if you were a teacher, giving him a test, and he was a student, answering every question correctly, but letting you down every time he opened his mouth anyway.

You didn’t say anything else.

Jungkook thought he was going to burst into flames.

He could tell that you didn’t want to listen to him when he said he loved you. In fact, you made a conscious decision not to hear him.

He was horrified to realise that these past few weeks and all the conversations, all the unsaid words that you finally said, all the closure that you’d welcomed after years of evading it—all of it had evaporated after last night.

You refused to remember these moments, refused to believe that they were real.

He wasn’t just back to where he started when this tour began—back when you wouldn’t accept his confessions. When you tried to explain his feelings for you using the circumstances: a different continent, too many forgotten memories, too much time spent together. And you were right, in part, to have your doubts. He really hadn’t told you everything. But everything that he had told you, he’d meant it.

But now he was much farther back—at the very last row, merely observing your silhouette as you climbed on stage and introduced yourself in a cold, detached voice. Like he didn’t know you. Like he hadn’t spent the past seven years loving you.

One bet. One fucking bet.

And now he was scared that there was nothing else left.

Gripping the stitching on the sides of his dark grey jeans, Jungkook said one more time, “I’m sorry.”

You were looking down as you repeatedly nodded your head—each nod a new dagger in his chest.

“Thank you for that,” you said, letting the sentence falter.

It was clear that you’d meant what you said—you had nothing else to say. He would have liked to hear anything, really, except for the silence that followed.

“W-what can I do?” he asked, afraid that the conversation—that all of your conversations— had come to an end.

You frowned—all of your conversations had come to an end.

“What do you mean?” you asked almost incredulously.

“Well, you’re clearly mad, and—”

“No,” you said. “I briefly flew over mad last night when you pulled me out of the bus at six-thirty in the morning. Now I’m back to normal.”

Biting his lip ring and pulling it into his mouth, Jungkook stayed quiet for a few seconds.

He had expected this to be awful, meaning you’d be angry.

He hadn’t expected this to be worse than awful; meaning you’d stand here, looking at him with a straight face and hollow eyes, almost daring him to apologise again.

Now it’s finally too late, your posture was saying. You fucked up one too many times.

You truly weren’t mad, he realised.

You’d given up.

“And w-what—what is ‘normal,’ exactly?” he asked finally, even though he feared the answer.

You hammered the final nail into the coffin that he’d built himself.

“I’m your manager,” you said. What a great eulogy. “You should get back on the bus. We’re leaving soon.”

He knew he needed to apologise again, but nothing he said seemed to make a difference. You weren’t hearing him—and, honestly, he understood why.

But a part of him still felt frustrated. You had kept something from him, too. There was a risk you’d leave—forever—and he needed conditions; something he could do to make this right. To make you stay.

It was a stupid bet. He never should have made it. It was bad, but in comparison to his feelings for you—and yours for him, before he ruined everything—he didn’t think it was significant enough to make you consider leaving your job.

“You’re right,” he said. “You’re my manager. And you can’t—you can’t leave the band.”

The determination in his tone made you pause.

“I can’t?” you repeated, your eyebrows drawn together in a defiant frown. “And who would stop me if I said I was leaving?”

Fuck, Jungkook thought in a sudden panic. That was not what he should have said. Now you might really leave.

Taehyung had warned him that he might push you towards the wrong decision. And he was doing exactly that.

“You—you know what I mean...” he faltered, discouraged by your resistance. “I-I fucked up, I know that. Tell me how to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” you said. “Get on the bus.”

He stood still. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

“It’s going to be like it always was,” you said. “Get on the fucking bus, Jungkook.”

He didn’t. You were so close to him now that he could smell your perfume and the apple scent of your shampoo. He remembered himself years ago, hoping that one day, apples would stop reminding him of you.

Now he knew how outrageously absurd it was to hope for this when he was convinced that all versions of him—across all universes—always immediately thought of you whenever they tasted apples.

“Don’t—you can’t start treating me like everything that happened between us didn’t happen,” he retorted—with all the anger that he had at the thought of never having you this close to him again.

“What happened, exactly?” you snapped. “You’ve clearly never bothered to be honest with me for one second until last night, never bothered to even think about me, because you—”

“I thought about you all the time, though!”

“Yeah, because you had no other fucking choice!” you rebutted. “If you didn’t think of me, you would have lost the bet. None of it was genuine—”

“I lost the bet because I was thinking of you,” he defended, furiously waving his hands around.

“Oh! That’s so considerate!” Your laughter was rigid and bitter. “Maybe it’s me who should apologise. I’m so sorry I ended up being the reason why you lost the bet.”

He dropped his hands, groaning. Once again, he realised how terrible he was at telling the truth, and how splendid at saying all the wrong things.

“Don’t—don’t be like that,” he asked, agitated.

You glared at him. “Like what?”

“Just—difficult.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” you said. “I’ll make this very simple for you: we’re done talking about your shit.” You pulled back from him to turn around. “Get on the fucking bus. I have more important things to do.”

Immediately, Jungkook grabbed both of your hands to stop you from leaving.

You turned back to him with wide eyes, and your stunned stiffness gave him enough time to properly wrap his fingers around your wrists.

“Is that your plan, then?” he demanded. His hands were cold, but his grip was loose enough for you to push him away—but the challenge in his question made you wait, frozen in place. “You’re just going to walk away again? Start working with a different band so you won’t have to think about your feelings? Won’t have to face your fears of trying again? That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it? Just fucking walking away.”

He'd touched something—there was a raw wildfire in your eyes now, nothing like the flames he’d seen before.

You yanked your hand out of his grip and took a step back.

“You know what?” you said. “It is. It is my solution to everything. And you want to know something else? This bet isn’t even the worst thing. And that’s the worst thing—the fact that this is just another bullet point in an endless list of shit that you and your friends have done. So, yes. I am walking away. I should have never even come back in the first place.”

Jungkook felt the ground beneath his feet tremble unsteadily at your words—much like his hands by his sides.

Back in Amsterdam, you’d told him that you forgave him for not realising how many mistakes he’d made in your relationship. He’d seen a glimpse of a second chance that night in your hotel room.

He was aware of his never-ending list of mistakes now. And still, he made new ones.

“I’m—I’m sorry, I—”

“Get on the bus,” you said, turning around to face the empty parking lot instead of his apologetic face. “I still need to call the other drivers and check in with the rest of the crew.”

You were doing your job. You were still talking to him. He should have been glad.

Instead, he couldn’t force his legs to move or his heart to keep beating.

“I… Can—can you just—just tell me that you’ll stay with the band,” he pleaded.

Your shoulders were straight as you stood with your back to him, your hands clenched into distraught fists by your sides. He’d once jokingly tried to teach you the proper stance in a fight. Really, it was you who should have done the teaching.

“Get on the bus,” you repeated.

His distress was relentless. “I will. But we have to talk about—”

“We don’t have to do anything,” you argued. “I think it’s better if we stop having conversations unrelated to Rated Riot altogether, if that’s alright with you.”

He watched your back with unwavering determination. “It’s not.”

“Tough. Get in.”

He needed a minute to convince himself to quit arguing, to drain the fight out of his chest. Then another minute to steady his breathing enough to turn towards the bus.

As he approached the door, he looked back at you and caught the way you had glanced at him over your shoulder. There was a dampness in your eyes from the heavy wind. He saw it right before you turned away again.

He swayed lightly on the steps of the bus. “Please, just—”

“Don’t,” you said, and your shaky voice turned the word into a warning rather than an order. “Just get in. We’re done talking.”

With your back still turned to the bus, you heard Jungkook climb the steps, seemingly hesitate once more, and then finally walk inside. The automatic door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud that was almost as loud as the defeated beats of your heart in your chest.

Alone in the parking lot, you finally exhaled all that you’d kept inside and then some. You wanted your lungs to feel as empty as your chest.

For just a minute, you couldn’t be Rated Riot’s manager.

For just a minute, you needed to be yourself and by yourself as you squatted, hugging your knees to your chest.

Your laboured breaths made you rock on your feet slightly as your chest rose and fell at an increasing pace, but you resisted the throbbing hurt inside—you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t.

In a minute, you’d have to check on the band and make sure all of them were on the bus before leaving for Cologne.

In a minute, you’d have to face Jungkook again and talk to him as if nothing had happened.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The bet was hurtful. But what hurt even more was your own choice to let it all escalate to the point where losing it all again hurt. Still wanting him, even now, hurt. His unchanging priorities—his friends first, everyone else second—hurt.

You didn’t want to talk to him as if nothing had happened. But you had to.

Maybe it was for the better. The bet was a cold shower, jolting you awake and reminding you that trying again never worked.

And really, perhaps you should have seen this coming. You knew that this was just another one of Sid’s games that Jungkook had willingly participated in. Truly, this was nothing new in your experience and hardly different from Sid dropping Jungkook off at the grimiest bar in town and sending you on a scavenger hunt to find him—night, after night, after night.

You stood up with a sharp inhale.

You’d had enough.

If Jungkook wanted to continue playing, he could do it by himself. You refused to be a part of it again.

However, ending things with Jungkook and ensuring that he didn’t win this bet didn’t feel like your win, either.

It felt like you both lost.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “the fountain”

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