#might want to remember this chapter in the future

[xiatarot]

pick a pile: your next relationship

< choose an image >

take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.

for entertainment purposes only.

♡

I.

significant signs: big trees, snoopy, rabbits, spider webs, pictures of your grandparents, angel wings, 777, 8, 16, 1717.

zodiac signs: sagittarius, libra, virgo, cancer, aquarius, leo, gemini.

dear pile 1, it seems like the universe here has a different message for you but it's definitely one that you'll need to hear. your next relationship is essentially with yourself. spirit is urging you to look within, and find the love you seek in yourself. love and affection don't necessarily always have to come from a romantic partner; look around you and you'll find many different sources. you have a strong support system, wether in the 3D or spiritually, or both. there's a need for you to retreat and keep yourself in that hermit energy. there's some things you'll need to let go of in order to close a particularly difficult chapter of your life, and as the end of the year approaches, now it's the perfect time to let go of all those negative energies pulling you back from being who you dream of being, so that 2025 can feel like a fresh new beginning. some of you might struggle with addictions or, generically speaking, things that distract you on a daily basis and take you away from spending time doing other more fulfilling things that could benefit you long-term. now it's the time to reconsider your priorities and make amends with the past. what's behind you shouldn't keep you from moving forward. it would be beneficial to open up to one of multiple friends, don't be afraid to ask for help. to-do lists and physical self-care could also help a lot. remember that whatever you're going through it's temporary and it will pass. don't go back to unhealthy situations and toxic behaviors for temporary comfort, act out of love for your future self. take care.

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channeled song:

♡

II.

significant signs: singing, white candles, rainstorms, black guitar picks, silver scissors, anxiety meds, journaling, 12, 444, 1010, 6,333.

zodiac signs: leo, aquarius, capricorn, gemini, libra, virgo, aries.

you will meet your next partner at work or this person will offer you a job opportunity. i'm seeing someone receiving bouquets of flowers at their office. this person could be very conventionally attractive, so much that you wouldn't believe they'd be into you, but they will. this will boost your confidence on the long run. you will meet this person at a time in your life where you feel lost or trapped in some kind of situation that might have to do with finances or unemployment. this person will take it in their interests to do the best they can to help you and take you out of your misery. i think they'll be very financially abundant. beware of jealousy that could arise around you, they could have many eyes on them, for some of you they could even be a public figure or someone that's just relatively known on social media. your person will spend a lot of time observing you and trying to read you from afar, they could've been hurt in the past so they'll take a slow and careful approach for fear that you might turn out to be another lesson for them. this relationship will force you to face insecurities and you might have a hard time in terms of self-esteem and confidence initially. communication and honesty are essential here, as lots of misunderstandments could arise out of it. they will definitely be the one to make the first move. this relationship will be filled with passion and could even lead to marriage if that's something you both want. finances won't be a problem for either of you. brace yourself cause it seems like your person is right around the corner! very happy for you :)

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channeled song:

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III.

significant signs: the beatles, monkeys, palm trees, fur boots, cocktails, germany, hummingbirds, golden necklace, december, 1212, 222, 888, 555.

zodiac signs: leo, libra, cancer, sagittarius, capricorn, taurus.

your next relationship will be all about healing. whoever this person is, they will almost surprise you with how much love they'll hold for you. it's like finally feeling warmth after spending a whole life out in the cold. i'm seeing someone deeply stuck in their insecurities and self sabotaging tendencies, your mind might tell you you're not deserving of love and this person will take it as their mission to make you believe you are. it's a gentle and caring type of love, one that speaks through actions rather than words. this person will be your anchor and just overall someone you can count on at all times. they're very caring and sweet, they'll treat you as if you were glass. there'll be a lot of deep conversations and opening up to each other. this relationship will be based on trust. it could be someone you already know or already know of. you might have mutual friends and meet at a party or a special occasion that will require you to dress a bit fancier than usual. this person will immediately want to strike a conversation with you and they'll be endeared by your shyness and modesty. it's a relationship that will heal your relationship with yourself and help you see you're much more deserving and worthy than you were raised to believe. you'll definitely have a family together in the future :).

find out more here: ♡

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channeled song:

[dandylion240]

Josie brings home a friend from school and Jayden has a bad feeling. Is it just a dad not wanting his little to grow up? or is it something more? The next chapter of Christmas Wishes is available on my WP Blog if you want to read it now otherwise it will be added to the queue and posted later.

Ryan Anderson was made by @izayoichan

[suguann]

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 

“Enjoying the party?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?” 

He nods. 

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[writing-fanics]

don’t mess with the devil

final chapter: I love you

Lucifer Morning X Human!Reader

Previous parts

The king sized mattress, seemed too big even for the King of Hell. He finally found someone to fill that empty space beside him, You. But now you were gone back home in the living world. Where you belonged. He hugged the stuffed, animal bringing it close to his chest. It lets out a little squeak.

It still smelled like you. Hells, he missed you so much it hurts. Your laughter, your voice, everything. He missed your sighs, when he would kiss your neck. He missed how you would tease him, and take his hat wearing it for a bit. You were a piece of Heaven in Hell, he never wanted to lose.

He remembered when you had gotten sick. You were sneezing and coughing, and wash hot. Your cheeks were flushed, and your voice hoarse. He never left your side, and only did to bring you the essentials. Soup. You got it. Water. No problem. Tea. Here you go my love.

He was at your beck and call, and you loved that about him. He would, kiss your forehead and rub your back. He’d figure out a way to get you ice. If you really needed it he would pay one of the, I.M.P’s to get you medicine in the living world. Demon medicine could and might possibly kill you.

Even though he thought TV, scrambled the brain he had to admit. Laying in bed with you watching, some shows was quite fun. Watching Disney movies and non Disney.

Hells. Tears trickled down his cheeks he missed you. You’ve only been dating for almost a year, and he already saw a future with you. Maybe even some kids if possible.

He wanted to-

“Oomph.”

A body landed on top of him, “Hi,” his heart seemed to stop beating, and he looked up from the stuffed animal. And there you were in all your beauty, looking down at him as if you were some angel.

You smiled, tears trickling down your cheeks. Finally, after so much trial and error you managed to make a portal to Hell. Leaving behind, a goodbye letter to your mother. Letting her know you’ll be okay. While also leaving behind a Hellphone, so she could communicate with you while you were in hell.

He thought that this might be some trick, some illusion trick by that red radio freak. He reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, you leaning into his touch. “I’ve missed you,” you said, placing your hand over his. He cupped your face in his hands so quickly, you didn’t have time to react crashing his lips on yours.

You gasped, before wrapping your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. “H-How did you?” You kept cutting him off with kisses, “Book of Magic,” you smiled, kissing him again. “And a little help from the magic you gave me.” You said, between each kiss your back being pressed against the mattress.

You smiled placing our hand on his cheek, “I knew not all of it returned,” He said, and you leaned up giving him a peck on the lips.

“I love you.” You finally said, and he smiled. Kissing you passionately, a sigh escaping your lips as he kissed your neck. “I love you too,” he said, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 19)

masterlist

-

A blood-orange sun hangs low in the sky.

You might think it ominous on any other day, but not this one. What more adversity could stand in your way? 

Instead of sharing a saddle with John, you ride the same horse that Graves rode out of town. Days spent on horseback have finally caught up to you, pain radiating up and down your legs, a soreness embedded deep in your inner thighs, the skin positively chafed from the constant friction. At least you no longer have the handcuffs digging painfully into your wrists, the metal cuffs long since unlocked using the key in Graves’ pocket and discarded, now lost some acres back for the coyotes and the hares to prod at and sniff. 

You drift in and out of conscious awareness, coming back into your right mind every mile or so, losing track of time along the way. Sometimes you blink and trees disappear out of sight, already ten miles back. Scouring the landscape for something familiar only to come up empty. 

Recent events lour over your conscience. It’s difficult not to let it get to you. So much has happened in such quick succession that part of you still thinks you’re dreaming in the abandoned shack with Graves sleeping just a few feet away. 

A distinct sound scrapes against the inner recesses of your mind and eardrum. If you were to look behind you, you’d find the source of it wrapped in a shroud and dragged behind John’s horse. Drying blood stains the fabric. The head, obscured under the fabric, jostles from side to side as it passes over rocks and undergrowth. 

It’s beyond you now though, the future shuttling forward at an unfathomable speed and taking you with it, willing or not. The world hurrying on to repeat its past mistakes. 

So you don’t look behind you. 

“Won’t be much longer,” your husband murmurs from beside you, speaking just loud enough for you to hear him over the influx of thoughts in your head, which rapidly empty out at the sound of his voice. 

“We can stop for a break after?” you ask, turning your head enough for your eyes to land on the hard, bristled line of his jaw. He nods. 

“Just gotta get this part out of the way.”

He says it so casually, like a bit of unpleasantness that has to be dealt with; no way around it. Unfortunately, a body isn’t something that can be just swept under the rug. No matter how much your muscles beg for a moment’s reprieve, you won’t get it until all the loose ends are tied up. 

“How do you know the land around here so well?” you ask as John leads the two of you deeper into the plains.

“The boys and I have been out here before. Grew up in this county anyway; been wanderin’ these parts since I was born.”

You can’t imagine John as a young boy, uncertain of his place in the world. He seems like someone who emerged from the womb ready-made, already able to skin a deer and build a bushcraft shelter by hand. But he must have been young at one point. 

Finally, he comes upon a suitable place to bury the body. 

Deep in the wilderness, he digs a shallow grave with the short shovel strapped to his horse, sweating up a storm before the hole is big enough to bury the body. You dismount your horse and wander off while John handles the burial. 

This is the part where you have to turn away and pretend it isn’t happening. You stave off the urge to plug your ears and close your eyes. Dogear any page in your life except this one. This is the only memory that you want to fade into obscurity, pretend that it never happened, that this was some bad dream that you only half-remember twenty years from now. 

You glance back only once to find John breathing heavily at the edge of the hole, having just hauled himself out. Sweat slicks his brow and drips down the side of his face near his temple, a dark flush spreading over his cheeks from exertion. Even his shirt is damp with sweat under the pits and around the collar. 

You force yourself to look away. Now is not the time for your libido to trouble you. 

Graves’ body lands with a dull thump when John rolls it into the makeshift grave. You bite your lip and let your eyelids slide shut. Then he starts the process of covering the body, shoveling the dirt back into the hole. It takes a while. An offer to help hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite make yourself say the words. 

A half hour later, it no longer matters, the hole covered until the only thing demarcating the grave is the layer of upturned soil, slightly darker than the dirt in the surrounding area.

“That’s it,” John announces, making his way back to you with the shovel slung over his shoulder. You can smell the ripe scent of sweat wafting off him even from a foot away. “Let’s head out; we’ll wanna make camp before it gets dark.”

You don’t answer. Not verbally anyway. The guilt almost makes it hard to breathe. In all your stupidity and poor decision-making, you’ve inadvertently made John an accomplice in your crimes; forced him, in fact, to commit one as heinous as the one that had started this whole debacle. 

You travel the next mile in relative silence, scouring the landscape for a neat patch of land to set up camp. The sun plummets towards the ground at a faster and faster pace until it’s tugged below the horizon, vanishing with a green flash. Then it’s too dangerous to keep going, the way back far too dark to keep traveling down. 

John builds a small fire after tying up the horses for the night. The temperature drops exponentially as the sky darkens, the cold sinking low to the ground. You help with gathering the kindling, mostly twigs and clumps of dry grass, then take the packs off both horses to use as makeshift seats by the fire, unrolling the sleeping bags as well. 

It comes as a relief to finally sit down after the fire is struck. Rest is a double edged sword though; the longer you sit with Graves’ old pack propping you up, the more the pain has time to sink its claws in deep. 

In the hours since he shot Graves, neither of you have spoken more than a few words to each other. You certainly haven’t brought it up. The memory of Graves revealing the truth of what you’d done back east to John looms over you. It’s inevitable that you’ll talk about it eventually though. It’s heavy in the atmosphere, almost oppressive; the weight of everything said and unsaid. You can’t take back what Graves revealed to John. At some point you’ll have to face it. 

At what point will you have to beg for forgiveness? It sits on the tip of your tongue. 

The small fire crackles in front of you. Red tongues of flames lick at the darkness, the light extending out in a circle around the two of you. You’re grateful for the warmth though, particularly after spending the previous night in the cold.  

“Nothing to eat, m’afraid,” he says apologetically, brow creasing. “I didn’t exactly pack before coming after you.”

You shake your head. “That’s fine. I’m not hungry anyway.”

In a few more hours, you might work up an appetite again, but for now, you couldn’t be further from it. All you want to do is lie down on your bed back home and sleep through to the next day. 

“Yeah,” John sighs. “Me neither.”

He picks up your hand and holds it in his for a time. It’s strange how such a small gesture has become such an immense comfort for you. You wish you could thread your fingers through his and bring his hand up to your lips to kiss all over, but you’re too tired for a gesture of that magnitude. 

When he lets go of your hand, it’s only to transfer it to your face. His thumb runs over your split lip, pulling away when you wince. “Looks like it’s healing on its own.”

“That’s good,” you mumble. “…It hurt a lot more yesterday.”

John’s nostrils flare. The fire reflects off his eyes in such a way that, for a moment, it almost looks like it’s coming from within him. “I’d kill him again if I could.”

Your stomach clenches at the ferocity behind his words. 

“You—you shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” you croak. “Not when he was—” right, you don’t say. Right to haul you out of town by your hair and drag you back to the scene of the crime, back to pay for what you’d done. 

“Now I ain’t gonna hear you go spoutin’ that horseshit,” he growls, clasping you by the back of your neck and tugging you to his side. It’s so sudden that your butt skids across the ground, raking up a small mound of dirt with the weight of your body.

You look away, unable to meet his eyes even as he pulls you forward until you’re nearly nose to nose. “It’s not—”

“Yes, it is, darlin’. That shit weren’t none of your fault. You ain’t done a thing wrong by keeping yourself safe.” 

It’s almost hard to hear. It’s taken you months to scrub the dirt from your soul, which until recently was raw to the touch and pained you to even think back on. And the hopelessness. And the longing, the irreversibility of it; irreversible in the way that you couldn’t turn your pain inside out. You could never go back to the way things were because the only way out was to keep on trudging forward. 

Like rain in a drought, you’ve been missing someone’s mercy. You’ve been waiting for someone to come and forgive you for your sins; someone to absolve you of them. 

You lean forward, burying your face in his neck. Not making much of a sound except for a harsh exhale, your throat quavering with something unsaid. 

Then you grip him by the back of his shirt and pull him to the ground with you. 

Out in the open like this, John doesn’t dare remove your clothes, but he does reach beneath your dress to pull off your underclothes. He’s silent through it all, eyes fixed on yours. Never wavering or dropping your gaze. It’s intoxicating to be stared at with such a fierce intensity. Vaguely overwhelming, the sensation creeping up your chest and lodging in your throat. 

The light of the fire he built for the two of you flickers across his skin, illuminating his face in shades of orange and gold. 

He holds your gaze when he rucks the skirt of your dress up and crawls down the length of your body until his mouth is level with your center, slick already dripping from your sex. Your breathing goes haggard, anticipating his mouth before it’s suddenly there between your thighs, planting a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before dragging his lips over your sensitive skin until they brush your clit. Your mouth opens to a soundless gasp. Electrical impulses travel up your spine, your arching back following their trajectory. 

He pulls back to stare at your dripping hole. “Missed me, my love?” 

You’d answer if you could form words, but then you realize who he’s talking to and your mind goes blank. 

When he runs his tongue up the seam of your pussy, you jolt, legs slung over his shoulders kicking at the air. He eats you out with gusto, with reverence, sighing into your pussy that it’s been too long, that he’d worried himself nearly half to death over you. 

Rough hands hold you by your waist and pull you down onto his face. Long, crude licks of his tongue, rubbing the flat of it over your clit until you’re a roiling, twisting hotbed of pent up arousal. 

The urge to suppress your noises is almost overwhelming. When you twist your head from side to side, there’s nothing but miles of land; trees and shrubbery and a deep, impenetrable darkness. Not another person around for miles. It makes you shiver when you stare out into it. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—” you gasp, chest getting tighter and tighter until you expect it to burst but it doesn’t. It stays all pent up, all itchy and scratchy and you can feel the sweat slicking the small of your back and the blood furiously rushing to your cheeks, heating you up from the inside out. Sweat-laden and flustered. 

Your toes curl in your boots, throat tightening up the closer it gets. All it takes to push you over the edge is John cupping his hands under your butt to tilt your hips up, licking you from hole to hole. The impertinence and thrill sends a rush through your body, the coil in your belly twisting and releasing, core pulsing around nothing. Your body gives a violent jolt when he gives your clit one last wet, suckling kiss.

“Are you comfortable like this, darlin’, or should I wait until we’re home?” John asks when he positions himself over you again, beard still wet with your desire and a big hand cupping the front of his trousers. You stare down at the hair dusting his knuckles and the bulge straining against his pants. 

The shadows make it seem even larger than usual. Your throat goes dry the longer you stare down at where he fists his length through his trousers.

“Darlin’?” he repeats, drawing your attention back up to his face.

“Oh?” you ask, cheeks heating. “I’m, um…I’m quite comfortable.”

It seems absurd to have such a conversation when your husband’s hand is reaching into his trousers to pull out his cock and fuck you with it, but the nervous tickle in your belly is far from unpleasant. 

He’s so careful with you, cognizant that your muscles are already sore and aching from days of being on the road and the abuse Graves put you through. Gentle hands maneuver your legs around his hips and move your hair from your face. Again your belly flips. 

Your grunt is involuntary when he first pushes in, walls stretching around the head of his cock. It hasn’t been long enough for the blunt intrusion to be painful, but it’s overwhelming all the same. You wince and grimace through it all. 

“Easy does it. You’re alright,” John shushes when you whimper, rough hand cupping your cheek. It sends a thrill down your spine, but doesn’t lessen the intensity. 

He stays like that for a time, hovering over you and stroking a thumb over your cheekbone until you relax around his girth, gradually finding your breath again. In and out; one after the other. When he pulls his hand away, it’s to plant his forearms on the ground beside your head and grind his hips forward, taking your breath away. 

“Oh Lord,” you wheeze, then brace your hands around his neck. 

“You’re doing great, darlin’. Just hold on; I’ve got ya.”

It’s nothing like the times before; your arms link around his neck and your breath goes shallow, hitching with every measured thrust. It’s too much and not enough. You feel windswept and battered, bruises smarting now that you’ve had time to feel them, but still you need more from him. 

He works himself into the wet flex of your pussy with slow, heavy thrusts. Taking his time. Not rushing it just yet because though the threat of you being taken from him still looms over his head, he’s sated his bloodlust. His reassurance now comes in the form of your legs spread to receive him and the fat head of his cock fitting snugly in you. 

The heels of your boots press firm against the flesh above his buttocks. Taking him this way with your clothes still on feels debaucherous, filthier than usual; like you were so desperate to have your husband inside you, that you couldn’t even be bothered to remove your garments. 

He must feel the way that thought heats you up because he rasps, “Need a lil somethin’, love?” 

Before you can even answer, he’s reached a hand down and tucked it between your thighs to strum the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. 

“John—”

Your fingernails must dig into the back of his neck because he grunts. Serves him right, you think, digging your nails in all the harder when grinds a knuckle against your clit and you briefly see stars. 

You’re splintering down to the root, coming apart in his hands like clay; when he says your name, the darkness fades and for a moment, you’re in the light, a shaft of it haloing your face. Chasing it no matter how fast it runs. A hare in a snare, a shadow captured in the palm of your hand. 

It comes fluttering down from somewhere beyond sight. Gasped out in another voice, a truer voice. From the depths of you, true as stone and air. 

“I love you.”

Give it time and it’ll come naturally. Now, it comes as a gut punch. Even John stills over you when he hears the words, and you can feel the shudder that runs through him under your fingertips. There’s no time to sit and talk about it though, not with the frenzy that comes over him, blue eyes glazed over by a manic glint. 

He braces one hand on the top of your head and surges forward, so rough with you that your teeth clack together, eyes rolling back in your head. 

“Say it again,” John growls, leaning down until his mouth is right next to your ear. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Then it hits you. A wall of heat. Your belly rolling and cheeks burning, walls squeezing around John’s cock, tighter with every thrust. You yelp when he lifts himself off you to yank the skirt of your dress up higher and presses his hands to your inner thighs, spreading your legs wider for him. Bullies his cock into your channel even as you try to squeeze him out, pounding into you until the lurid torrent of words spilling out of his mouth go slurred and his release floods into you, his hips slapping against yours until he’s emptied the last of his spend into your womb. 

It’s a while before either of you can move after that. Your energy melts into the ground like rainwater, purifying the earth. Maybe life is already germinating beneath you, grass seedlings about to burst from the dirt, flower buds curled up in tight coils until they’re ready to bloom. 

Your hands shake when you lift one up to wipe the sweat from your face. 

When he finally pulls out of you, the feeling of his come leaking down your inner thighs makes you fussy. You lift your thighs just enough to let him pull your drawers back up before lying back down, no energy left in you to do more than that. You only scrunch your nose a little at the feeling of your combined juices already wetting the gusset.

Time seems to come apart and then piece back together. You roll over onto your side and nestle up against John’s chest, staring up at him wordlessly. His eyes stay shut for some time until he feels your stare on him and they peel open, the color of his irises barely discernible in the flickering light. 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” he asks in a tone so devoid of accusation or condemnation that you’re almost thrown by it. He says it like it’s just another day, like something horrible and monumental didn’t just happen. 

It takes you a while to find the words. Even when you do, they come out jumbled and disjointed. “How long have you…—when did you find out?”

“‘Bout what happened back East?” he clarifies, blunt as usual. 

The question makes you swallow impulsively, anxiety secreting from you again. “Yes.”

John looks up into the dark sky, quiet for a spell. “Not until recently. The arrest warrant drifted across my desk probably around the time Graves first stopped by. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together after that—you showing up in a tizzy around the same time as the warrant was issued. General description matched as well.”

You feel a bit foolish in retrospect, certain that you were getting away with it all this time. 

“You know my name.”

“I do.”

“My real name.”

“In a manner of speaking. Got yourself a new last name since then though, didn’t you?”

Your lips pull up at the corners involuntarily. “Yes. I guess so.”

You can almost hear it now. The penultimate note of the overture writhing against convalescence like you might stay this way for a second longer. But it isn’t right to keep feeling the same old pain. At some point, it has to heal. 

“Hey,” John says, giving your shoulder a little shake to draw your attention back to him. The look in his eyes is serious. “This is as far as the story goes, alright?”

You stare up at him silently until you nod against his chest. 

“You’re my wife. End of story. The rest ain’t anyone’s business but ours.”

Off in the distance, an owl hoots, and its call hits your ear as a distant evocation to sleep. You press one last kiss to his chest before rolling off him, letting him put the fire out before the two of you turn in for the night, and then drawing a blanket over the both of you. 

And then, you go to sleep.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. “Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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[hederasgarden]

On the Horizon (2/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 4.3K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst and asshole!Scott who brings a side of gaslighting. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged.   A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxheart @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my www inbox. That always makes my day.

Part 1 ♡ Masterlist

The sound of the rickety old air conditioning unit sputtering to life jolts you awake. You roll over with a groan, throwing an arm over your face to shield yourself from the sunlight trickling in through a gap in the curtains. It takes you a long moment to realize the other side of the bed is empty and cold. When you do, the remnants of sleep scatter, a wave of awareness washing over you.

You tuck your chin against your chest and pull the scratchy sheets closer to your naked body. The old clock on the bedside table stares back at you as you struggle to ignore the hollow ache in your stomach. You didn’t expect Scott to stay the night. Both of you knew it wouldn’t be smart, though it still stings, just like it did the first time. But that was Scott, you remind yourself, always thinking two steps ahead, anticipating and reacting. Whatever you two had needed to remain a secret. As he reminded you last night, when it came to sleeping with a coworker, people were always harsher on the woman. It was better this way. Wasn’t it?

You close your eyes and draw in a pained breath, catching the faint, musky scent of Scott’s cologne that still lingers in the sheets. The smell brings a rush of memories from the night before, vivid and overwhelming, like a sense memory that refuses to fade. The way his long, thick fingers curled inside you. The sound of his shuddering breath when he came. 

Your phone buzzes, and you jerk upright, expecting or perhaps hoping to see Scott’s name. Instead, it's Andy letting you know he’s grabbing coffee for everyone. You thank him and, without giving yourself a chance to second-guess yourself, shoot off a message to Scott. You watch as the status changes from “Delivered,” to “Read at 7:22 AM.” You wait for a reply but minutes tick by without an answer.

Eventually, you force yourself out of bed and prepare for the day, but as you move through your routine, your mind keeps drifting back to the unanswered message. It’s after 8 a.m. by the time you leave the hotel room with your duffle bag in hand. Outside, the parking lot is full of other storm chasers who mill around quietly, their mood more subdued than last night.

You find Scott with a clipboard in hand, talking with Javi. He spares you a glance but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge you. It’s not personal, you remind yourself, feeling better when you remember you're both assigned to Scarecrow. You’ll have a chance to talk with him then without having to worry about anyone overhearing you. 

On the way to the car, you catch up with Andy, looking dubiously at the greyish cup of gas station coffee he hands you. It's been weeks since you had a decent cup. You're half-busy lamenting the absence of Starbucks when a sharp whistle catches your attention. It's Tyler, and he’s giving you a curious look, raising his chin in Scott's direction. 

You know what he's asking. You should give him a thumbs-up so he knows the ploy worked, but before you can a sharp, unexpected wave of shame crawls up your throat. Tyler wrinkles his brow, hands on his hips. When he takes a step forward you turn away without answering him. You head for your assigned car, only to stop abruptly when you see Peter, one of the meteorologists, sitting in the passenger seat with the door ajar.

“Morning. I think you might be in the wrong car,” you say. 

“Hey,” Peter greets, looking up from his computer. “Scott changed the rotation. You’re riding with Javi. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Oh.” You stare at your coworker unblinking, for a long moment. It was probably an oversight. Scott was so busy. "O-of course he did, I must have forgotten," you lie, forcing yourself to chuckle. “Lack of sleep,” you explain.

“Tell me about it. These motel beds are killing my back.”

“For sure,” you agree, offering him a wave and promising to catch up with him later. The second you turn away, your eyes sting and you brush at them angrily. Why are you crying? It’s not even a big deal. You liked riding with Javi, everyone did even though he was the boss. 

You head in the opposite direction of the others, unsure of where you’re going. All you know is that you need to move to dislodge the pressure in your chest. It’s only when you reach the edge of the motel’s property, standing at the boundary of the farm next door, that you finally stop. You drop your bag, sending up a small cloud of dust, and press a hand to your mouth as you stare across the field of knee-high corn. This was all so stupid, a childish overreaction. There’d be time to talk with Scott tonight again. You were getting upset over nothing.

You have only a few precious seconds to collect yourself before you hear footsteps approaching. Quickly, you scrub your hands over your eyes, trying to dry the tears as best as you can. It doesn’t matter who it is; you just don’t want to be seen like this.

“You know, sweetheart,” Tyler begins, his southern drawl softening the endearment, “I’m not used to chasing after a woman.” 

He stops a few feet away, his gaze fixed steadily on the horizon. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, his cowboy hat shading his expression from view. He's not exactly who you want to talk to at the moment but it was better than someone from your team. 

“Well," you start, clearing your throat to dislodge the unwanted emotion from your voice. "You’re welcome for the unique experience, I guess."

He turns to face you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. You’ve amused him.  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he says, clearly waiting for you to elaborate.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Scott spent the night and that was what you wanted so why didn’t it feel that way? 

“Ah, he shit the bed, huh?” Tyler asks, understandingly. Your nose wrinkles at the euphemism and this time he laughs. “Well, we can always try again tonight.”

You realize then that Tyler thinks nothing happened between you and Scott last night. You should set him straight, but instead, you find yourself saying, “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Come on now. We both know everyone here is heading up to Bartlesville. The conditions look promising.” 

“What do you have planned to help me?”

Tyler tilts his cowboy hat up with a finger, stepping close enough that you find yourself beneath its brim. You look up at him and notice, for the first time, the dark stubble along his jaw and the dimples that appear when he smiles. You’ve always known he was handsome — everyone knew it, mostly because that was all Peter talked about after enough beers. But right now, it feels like you’re seeing Tyler Owens for the first time.

“You leave that up to me. Just be ready by 7 p.m. Wear that dress from last night.”

He steps away and you feel like you can breathe again. “Okay.” You agree.

“Okay?” he questions. “They don’t teach you manners up north?” He teases.

His comment catches you off guard and startles a genuine laugh from you, the first one you’ve had in a while, you realize. “Thank you,” you reply sincerely. 

Just like last night, Tyler taps your nose playfully and steps back. “7 p.m.,” he reminds you before he turns and heads off.

You don’t even notice it until you’re back at the truck, but the pressure in your chest that’s been weighing on you all morning is gone.

–

Riding to Bartlesville with Javi isn’t half bad, he’s more than willing to share the endless supply of snacks he’s got stashed all over the vehicle. You rummage through the glovebox, pushing away a questionable-looking melted bar of chocolate for a package of Skittles.

“So, you gonna tell me what last night was all about?” He asks.

You freeze, anxiety skittering up your spine. Does he know about you and Scott?

“Javi, I —”

“Tyler Owens?” he presses. “I saw you with his crew last night, and Scott mentioned he was bothering you this morning.”

At the mention of Scott’s name, there’s a familiar, painful tug in your chest. You ignore it, just like you do with the knowledge that Scott saw you and Tyler together. You don’t want to think about him right now.

“Are you asking as my friend or as my boss?” You question, propping your foot on the dashboard and tossing a Skittle into your mouth.  

“As your friend I want to make sure you’re being safe. And as your boss, I wanna know why you’re spending time with the competition,” he says. “Also, take your damn foot off the dash.”

You flash him a grin and place your other foot beside the first. Javi sighs in annoyance but extends his hand, waving his fingers expectantly. You sift through the bag and hand him the green Skittles. Despite the years that have passed from when he was a fresh-faced Corporal with a buzzcut and you were a civilian contractor feeling way out of your depth, you appreciate this part of your relationship remains unchanged.

“He was looking for some contouring tips.” You joke, earning another look. “He wanted to know where we were headed next,” you tell him, surprising yourself with how easy the lie comes to you.”Don’t worry, I told him we were going to Broken Bow.”

“He’s gonna meet us in Bartlesville, isn’t he?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree, rummaging through the Skittles bag to find another handful of green ones. “Does he really bother you that much?”

Javi shrugs, his expression thoughtful as he takes the Skittles from you. “He’s annoying and disruptive, but…not really, I guess. We’re still getting good data when he isn’t shooting fireworks into tornadoes.”

You laugh. “Peter loved that. He kept showing clips to everyone. I think it was the highlight of his week.”

“Yeah, how about you? You like Tyler Owens, too?”

You raise an eyebrow, a touch of exasperation in your voice. “Javi…”

“What?” he asks innocently, his gaze meeting yours. “It’s just a question.”

“Okay, if we’re just asking questions, how’s Kate doing?”

Javi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he avoids your eyes. “You really shouldn’t be asking your boss personal questions like that.”

“Mmmm, okay,” you reply.

For as long as you’ve known Javi, Kate’s been a topic of conversation. It wasn’t until recently that he reconnected with her, though, flying off to New York to recruit her for the team. She turned him down but texted him sporadically. It was clear to you he was painfully in love with her.

“We’re texting again,” Javi admits finally. "And she agreed to go to dinner when I'm in New York again next week," he reveals with a smile. 

“Look at you go,” you encourage. 

“Don’t make it a big deal,” he says, reaching over to fiddle with the radio. 

Static bursts through a second later before it’s replaced by a soft, crooning voice. You settle back in your seat when you sense Javi’s done talking about the Kate situation. Based on the radar, you know it’s best to catch some sleep while you can. You close your eyes and tilt your head towards the sunlight streaming through the side window, letting the warmth wash over you. Tension drains from your body as you drift off to sleep, listening to Javi sing off-tune to the radio.  

–

At exactly 7 p.m., there’s a knock on your door. You open it to see Tyler standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, cowboy hat tipped low. He’s wearing a pearl snap shirt and sporting an impressively large belt buckle.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Tyler reminds you with a smirk. Your cheeks heat as you meet his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It says ‘Tornado Wrangler.’ Just in case you were too distracted to read it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, though your tone lacks any real bite.

“But I do love a little flattery,” Tyler counters, extending his arm toward you. 

After a moment of hesitation, you slip your hand around his bicep, allowing yourself to be guided along. The parking lot is quiet. It seems that the weekend storm chasers have all gone home. There’s only one solitary figure in the distance, their cigarette glowing briefly with an orange flare in the darkness. Most of the motel rooms you pass are dark and you wonder if everyone on your team has gone to the bar Peter suggested in the group text. 

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Only the finest establishment Bartlesville has to offer,” he replies.

“So the bar everyone else is headed to.”

“You city girls,” he says with a shake of his head. “Come on now,” he encourages, pulling you with him as he sprints across the road to another parking lot that’s crowded and brightly lit. 

The neon letters flashing above the entrance proclaim that you've arrived at Cowboys’ Dancehall. As you and Tyler approach, you both hand over your IDs to the bouncer stationed outside. He scrutinizes the out-of-state licenses for a long moment before waving you on. 

Inside, it’s loud and dimly lit. Couples spin around the dance floor to a fast-paced country song. The bar is crowded, but Tyler cuts through the throng of people with ease, keeping you beside him with a hand at your hip until you reach the old wooden bar. When he leans in to speak to the bartender his chest brushes your back.

“I’ll take a Bud Light, and the lady will have a rosé,” he tells her, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the music.

The bartender, an older woman with deep lines etched into her face, stares at Tyler before she pops the caps off two Bud Lights and slides them across the bar. “That’ll be $7 even,” she announces.

You press your hand to your mouth, stifling a laugh at the exchange.

“Well alright,” Tyler says, reaching for his wallet.

“I can pay for myself,” you insist, digging through your purse but he’s faster, dropping $10 on the counter. 

“A fake date is still a date.” He tells you. 

You’re relieved to escape the crush of the crowded bar as you make your way past the dance floor toward the quieter back area where tables are scattered. Peter spots you first, his face lighting up when he waves you over enthusiastically. You’re taken aback to see most of your coworkers seated at a table with Tyler’s crew. Boone greets you with a lopsided salute, while Lily gives you a fist bump. Tyler pulls out a chair for you, and you take a seat, distracted as you search the room for a familiar face.

“Don’t worry,” Peter half shouts to you over the table. “Javi and Scott are meeting with that investor guy.”

“Oh,” you respond, nodding and wondering just how often your coworkers hung out with Tyler’s team in Scott and Javi’s absence.

You were never one to go out with them before, preferring to wind down alone with a good book or movie. It’s clear that this isn’t the first time they’ve gathered like this; everyone seems pretty comfortable together. Tyler, in particular, is completely unfazed to find his crew mingling with Storm Par.

“You’re not going to rat us out to Scott are you?” Daniel asks nervously.

“City girl wouldn’t do that,” Tyler says confidently, resting an arm over the back of your chair. “Would you?” he asks.

He leans in slightly, his thumb brushing gently against your bare shoulder. The unexpectedly intimate touch startles you, and it takes a moment for you to regain your composure. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise, offering Daniel a reassuring smile.

He seems to accept your words and you settle back into your chair, letting the conversation of the table wash over you. Sipping your beer, you occasionally glance toward the door. There’s no sign of Scott and you’re left wondering about Tyler’s plan. Everyone else seems confident he and Javi won’t make an appearance tonight. 

“Alright, enough sitting. Let’s dance,” Tyler announces, offering you his hand. 

You nearly choke on your beer. “Dance?” you repeat, waving him off. “No one mentioned anything about dancing.”

“I can’t have you leaving Oklahoma without learning how to two-step.”

“How do you know I haven’t?” you challenge.

“I get the impression you don’t let yourself have a lot of fun,” Tyler replies quietly. The softness of his eyes and the utter sincerity in his voice make it hard to hold his gaze. It’s unsettling how clearly he seems to see through you. 

“Come on,” he says, offering you his hand. “It’ll be fun.”

You glance at the door again before letting Tyler guide you toward the dance floor. The beat of the song is fast and you watch how effortlessly the other couples move, their steps fluid and graceful. Tyler takes your right hand and wraps his left arm around you, his palm resting firmly on your shoulder blade, drawing you close. After a moment’s hesitation, you place your left arm on his bicep. He feels warm and strong against you.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You say, feeling silly and out of place. 

“Nothing to it. All you gotta do is follow, I’ll lead,” Tyler promises, surging forward and taking you with him. 

You stumble a little, but Tyler’s quick to adjust his pace for you. He keeps you to the outside of the dance floor, guiding you through the moves. You watch his feet, trying to coordinate your own, but you end up stepping on his toes more than a few times. He doesn’t seem to mind, gently correcting you. It feels like you have two left feet and your anxiety flares in response.

“Look up here,” Tyler says, waiting patiently until you meet his gaze before continuing. “Don’t overthink it — just feel it”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you mutter. 

“So let’s keep that big brain busy. Tell me about yourself. Did you go to a fancy school like MIT too?” He asks, his tone playful.

“Uh. No,” you say, glancing down only to have him tap your shoulder. You look up again. “I went to a state school.”

“So did I,” he reveals. “Though it was just for meteorology and atmospheric science.”

“You did?”

“Hey, no need to sound so surprised,” he replies, feigning mock hurt.

“A cowboy and a scholar,” you tease.

“Don’t forget a pretty great dancer, too,” he adds, lifting his arm to twirl you around before pulling you back into his embrace. When he does it again, a breathless laugh escapes you.

“Atta girl,” Tyler says, pulling you even closer. “Now we’re having fun.”

Your skin tingles and you feel warm all over. The world narrows to Tyler’s handsome face, his green eyes deep and captivating in the dim light. Your chest tightens, only allowing you to pull in shallow breaths that leave you lightheaded. In that moment, you realize you haven’t stumbled once — you’re moving perfectly in sync with him.

“One more dance?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you agree.

The current song fades into something softer and more subdued. The crowd begins to thin, but Tyler doesn’t seem deterred by the change. He lowers his hand to the small of your back, holding you close as he guides you in a slow, graceful sweep across the floor. Despite the smoky bar and the crowd of people, all you smell is Tyler's clean, crisp scent. It reminds you of the first storm of the season, the air electric and charged with energy. Full of potential. 

Tyler stares steadily at you as he continues to move you across the floor, and you find yourself unable to look away from him. The music seems to fade, leaving only the sound of his breathing and your own. Your lashes flutter and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to simply feel — weightless and free. 

It’s only when someone else bumps into you that your eyes snap open and reality comes rushing back. You stumble, but Tyler catches you, pulling you gently to the side.

“Doing alright?” He questions.

You nod, feeling strangely shaky. “I think I need some water.”

Hand still in yours, Tyler tugs you along until he reaches the end of the bar, where a large water jug sits. He hands you a cup, and you drink deeply, surveying the crowded bar. It takes you a while to realize you’re just taking in the sights and sounds, and you haven't thought about Scott at all.

“Our beers are probably warm by now. You want another?” He asks. 

“I shouldn’t.”

He smiles and pulls out his phone, opening the weather app. The screen shows a mess of red and yellow just south of you. “You’re probably right,” he admits.

You both head back to the table, where Boone groans at Tyler’s announcement that his crew should return to the motel after finishing their drinks. Your coworkers seem to agree, with some heading to the bar to settle their tabs.

“I’ll walk you back.” Tyler offers.

Outside, the moon is obscured by thick clouds and it feels cooler than when you first arrived. Your eyes roam the parking lot, catching sight of Scarecrow. Scott and Javi must be back from their meeting. A pang of disappointment hits you. You’d hoped Scott would have seen you with Tyler again. 

“Well…this is you,” Tyler says, stopping in front of your hotel room. “Not a bad night.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But Scott didn’t show up.”

Tyler presses his lips together, his gaze falling away to look at something past you. His nostrils flare and then his eyes return to you, but the tension in his jaw remains.

"You had fun, didn't you?" He prods.

Even if tonight hadn't gone the way you wanted it to, you have to admit he was right. You had fun. 

"I did,” you say, offering him a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Well, then, it wasn’t a total loss. You had a good time,” he says, his tone warm. To your surprise, he leans in, removing his cowboy hat and holding it level with your face, effectively blocking your view to the left. His hand settles lightly on your hip. “Looks like we’ve got an audience — tall, dark, and a total dipshit.”

You stare up at him, your whole body tingling. “Scott?” You whisper.

“Mmmhmm,” Tyler returns. “Now if you're asking for my advice, I'd let him stew a bit. A man should have to work for you. Put in some effort.”

You nod, and Tyler steps back, pulling his hat on. When you finally look to the left the walkway is deserted, bathed in the dim light filtering through the curtains of the neighboring rooms. Tyler insists on waiting until you're safely inside, and you watch him linger by the door for another minute before he finally turns to leave.

With a sigh, you sit on the bed and slip off your shoes, feeling strangely adrift and unsure. Your text to Scott from this morning remains unanswered and you have no idea if what you’re doing with Tyler is going to help the way you want it to. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to clear your mind. 

Lost in your thoughts, you nearly miss the soft knock at the door. You crack it open, looking up at Scott. His dark hair is damp, curling over his forehead. He smiles at you and your heart flutters in response. You almost invite him in on instinct, but Tyler’s earlier remarks rise to the surface.

“What?” Scott asks.

You straighten your shoulders, gathering the courage for what you want to ask. “Why didn’t you respond to my text message?”

His brow furrows, like he has zero idea what you’re talking about.

“I sent you a text this morning,” you clarify. 

“We’re not supposed to text and drive in a company vehicle, you know that.” 

His response immediately makes you feel silly because of course that made sense. Just last week Javi got on Daniel about texting and driving. 

“Are you really going to make me stand out here?” He asks, quickly looking down the hall. He was probably worried someone would see the two of you. 

“Of course not.” You step back to let him inside, chewing on the inside of your lip. “I just…why did you have me move cars?” 

Scott presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and exhales loudly. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a step back, but he follows you.

“You’ve ridden with me the last two days,” he says quietly. One of his large hands cups your jaw. “I can’t have people accusing me of favoritism, can I?” 

You shake your head, frowning. He’s too close, his aftershave nearly overpowering. You need some space. 

“Scott, I —” Whatever you were about to say is cut off as both your phones suddenly buzz, and outside you hear the all too familiar wail of the tornado siren.

♡

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[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART II)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Smut (MDNI 18+), incest, step-sibling incest, gangbang (-ish?), nipple stimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, getting caught, mentions of death, alcohol consumption, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said.

WC: 5.0k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

As war brewed in Westeros, the land of Dorne basked in the golden sun and its sweeping dunes. The ravens from House Targaryen had been met with little favour, and House Martell found their desperation rather amusing. 

In the Old Palace of Sunspear, Princess Y/n and Prince Elyas Martell lounged in the Solar, a secluded chamber reserved for their idle indulgence, always with a cup of wine in hand. The space, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the thin organdy curtains, was filled with the scent of magnolias, a flower that so rarely thrived in the harsh conditions in the desert. 

The siblings had been raised under a veil of extravagance, tasted the rarest delicacies, worn the most exquisite fabrics, and known pleasures that most could never fathom. Yet, they sat in the heart of Old Palace, gazing out at the unchanging arid scenery before them, left with a lingering sense of disillusionment. The world outside their palace walls offered little more than echoes of what they had already experienced, and each new day arrived with the inevitable savour of anti-climax.

The company of the siblings was never without their sworn protectors, the bastard sons of Prince Qoren, Casymir and Leoran Sand, whose presence was like the shadows of the Prince and Princess, mostly unnoticed, but part of them nonetheless. The twins were leaning on the double doors, their golden spears placed against the wall as they listened to the Prince and Princess' idle conversations with a hint of amusement on their faces. 

"Can you believe them, sister?" Elyas licked the wine off his lower lip. He was slumped on the settee with Y/n’s legs resting on his lap. "Asking for your hand through a raven? That boy of three-and-ten from House Briar showed more courage than those Dragonlords," he chuckled, remembering how the young lord showed up by the gates of the Old Palace with nothing more than the promise of a life free from hardships and an heir that will make Dorne even more prosperous than it already was.

"That boy looked like he still fed on his mother's tit," Casymir, the older twin laughed.

Princess Y/n merely rolled her eyes, too tired to jest with them. She took another sip of wine as her eyes lazily stared at Elyas' hands gently massaging her legs. 

"What bothers me is that Father is still taking his time to send ravens back to those Dragonlords," she muttered. "He usually wouldn't bother to respond to any plea for support involving other houses, so it's possible that he might be considering our alliance."

"You read both messages Father sent them, he clearly refused any deal they proposed," Elyas' hands crawled to her thighs, disappearing under the silken fabric of her dress and began kneading her lean muscles.

"Of course he did. He wouldn't want to make it seem like we yield so easily," Y/n traced the edge of her cup with her finger. "Father is many things, but he's not a fool. He knows that they're expecting him to refuse. The longer he plays this game, the more desperate they'll become, and... mayhaps he sees more value in keeping them on edge."

"And what about the Velaryon boy?" Leoran asked.

"What about him?" She sighed, growing irritated as the past few weeks' conversations seemed to circle back to the Targaryens.

"How does it feel to have the future king of the realm seeking your hand?" He asked.

"He's no different from the others. A man is still a man, no matter his title. And so far, they've all shown me nothing I haven't already seen," Y/n’s gaze drifted out the window, her expression indifferent. 

"Be truthful now, sister," Elyas teased, moving his hands even closer to her womanhood as he continued to massage her thighs. "Don't tell me the idea of marrying a dragon rider doesn't excite you."

"Those dragon riders tried to conquer our lands before, why would I want to marry one of them?" She asked with a hint of annoyance, realising shortly how Elyas was just trying to provoke her. She took another sip of wine. Although it was typical for her brother to irritate her on purpose, she still enjoyed the touches that came along with it.

"So you wouldn't even consider marrying him?" He parted her legs slightly, snaking his hand between her thighs as began to tease her clothed slit.

"No," she frowned, growing frustrated as Elyas kept teasing her, knowing all too well how to pull her strings and make her surrender under his touch. 

The twins' eyes were fixed on them, a smirk spreading across their faces as they watched her grind her hips against his palm. Y/n sat up and Elyas got on his knees, hiking up her dress and fully exposing her legs to them. Leoran began to palm his cock through his trousers at the sight of Elyas peeling away Y/n’s undergarments, his eyes never missing the thin string of her arousal that clung to the fabric. He pushed her legs further apart, making sure that the twins could see how her tight hole clenched and unclenched, welcoming even the slightest touch.

"Even if he's the Crown Prince?" Elyas purred. He felt his erect cock painfully straining against his trousers as his fingers sunk into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her closer to him until her cunt was merely inches away from his face. He was tempted to delve his tongue into her needy hole, yet he resisted and began to nip and suckle on her inner thigh. "Answer me, sister," he demanded, his dark eyes looking up at the Princess.

Y/n huffed at his words, growing impatient as she knew that Elyas was going to keep up his sweet torment until he heard what he wanted to hear.

"Even if he's the Crown Prince," she echoed his words, her skin prickling as she felt his hot breath fanning on her entrance. 

The Prince seemed to have been satisfied with her response as his tongue lapped at her wet folds without a warning, tearing a moan from her as his nose occasionally nuzzled against her clit, making her buckle her hips against his face. 

She lazily tore her eyes from her brother and fixed her gaze on the twins, whose trousers and breastplates were already discarded on the floor, exposing their lean muscles akin to a bronze sculpture. They were pumping their cocks at the sight of her wet cunt being feasted on by Elyas, who was still fully dressed, as he was too lost in devouring the sweet taste of her juices. When the Princess made eye contact with them, they nodded and stood up, understanding her silent command. They sat on either side of Y/n, their cocks twitching as she placed her hands on their thighs. Then she turned to face Casymir, cupped his cheek and stared up at him with half-lidded eyes before leaning forward for an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue swirling around hers. 

Leoran tucked the Princess' hair back, exposing her neck. He began to trail wet kisses from under her ear and stopped at the hollow of her neck as he fondled her breast, teasing her erect nipple with his fingers through the thin fabric of her dress. Still unsatisfied, he pulled the strap down, partly exposing her chest. Leoran pressed his face against the soft flesh, taking in her sweet scent before he brushed his lips against her nipple and began suckling on it like a hungry babe. 

Casymir slipped the other strap off her shoulder, and her dress bunched around her waist, fully exposing her chest. The warm breeze caressed her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Imitating his younger twin, Casymir's lips latched on to the other nipple and pulled, almost painfully, and he released it with a loud pop before repeating his actions. When he was finished tormenting the sensitive bud, he took as much of her breast in his mouth, hungrily swirling his tongue around the soft flesh.

As the twins sucked on each of her tits and Elyas had his face buried in her cunt, Y/n reached down to grab the twins' cocks that jolted with her touch, already oozing with precum. She began stroking their lengths, feeling how the thick veins pulsated against her palms. 

Y/n’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, unable to bear how they feasted on her flesh as if she were a lamb being devoured by wolves. No one in the room was holding back their moans, filling the space with obscene noises. The Solar, which had just been meticulously tidied by the servants, had now turned into a chaotic scene of disarray: cushions from the settee were scattered haphazardly, some thrown onto the ground, whilst their cups of wine had tipped over, leaving dark red stains that seeped into the rugs.

Feeling the fire pooling low in her abdomen, she knew that it was up to Elyas whether she got to cum or not.

"Swear it to me, sister," Elyas stopped sucking her clit, only to slide two fingers into her weeping cunt. "Swear to me that I'll be your betrothed. You and I shall rule Dorne together."

He alternated between curling his digits and pumping them in and out, hitting her sweet spot with ease and causing her to arch her back in delight. At that moment, the Princess only sought the pleasure of her own release. Enslaved with the rush that was coming, she parted her lips, ready to seal the promise.

"I—"

Just before she could finish speaking, the doors of the Solar flung open with a loud crash. 

The four of them snapped out of their trance, their faces clouded with irritation that someone had dared to interrupt the high they were chasing. Ser Domeric Uller, the informant of House Martell, stood unimpressed at the wanton scene before him, already used to the siblings' shenanigans.

"My Princess, my Prince," Ser Domeric began, "Rhaenyra Targaryen is in the Hall of the Sun, and your presence has been requested immediately."

The unexpected arrival of the Targaryens on dragonback had been received as a threat of battle. When the Dornish sails spotted the winged beasts tearing the clouds apart, their hearts pounded with dread. The three dragons shattered the peaceful Dornish skies with their deafening roars, sending shockwaves of terror through the port city of Sunspear. The smallfolk, who had never seen such creatures so close, scattered back to their homes, their fear spreading like wildfire.

Princess Y/n muttered under her breath as she made her way to the Hall of the Sun, trying to compose herself as she had barely taken a moment to ensure she didn't appear dishevelled. Her previous dress had been crumpled, forcing her to hastily throw on another while urging her handmaiden to make her hair look presentable. With each step, she could still feel the uncomfortable cling of arousal on her thighs. She was closely followed by her brother and their sworn protectors, who weren't any less irritated than she was, as they fumbled with their trousers. 

Their youngest brother, Prince Farien, was already waiting for them outside the hall with Ser Domeric, who couldn't stand still.

"Is everything alright, Farien?" Y/n asked the boy.

"D- dragons..." he whispered. "They brought dragons..."

Y/n and Elyas exchanged a look of concern, but her eyes widened, catching how Elyas' chin was still glistening with her arousal. 

"Wipe your chin," she hissed.

Elyas complied, wiping his face with the sleeve of his tunic, staining it in the process. The siblings and the twins stared at each other, ensuring that there was no trace of what had just happened moments ago. With one final nod, Casymir and Leoran pushed the doors open, clearing a wide path for Prince Qoren's children.

The three Martells, adorned in their house's colours and draped in golden jewellery that chimed with each step they took, resembled the radiant rays of the sun. Y/n and Elyas sauntered across the hall with their heads held high, feeling the piercing gaze of the Targaryens they had yet refused to look in the eye. Elyas' eyes swept over the hall with a dismissive air, trying to mask the dread running down his spine as he heard the dragons' deafening screeches nearby for the first time, while Prince Farien ran across the hall and jumped onto his father's lap.

There was no way to read Prince Qoren's expression. How must he have felt at that moment? The Targaryens, their rivals, had arrived in Sunspear unannounced with three dragons, no less, inciting fear among his people and sparking rumours that they had come once again to conquer their lands.

"Father," Y/n greeted Prince Qoren with a quick peck on his cheek. 

Prince Qoren hummed in response as he rubbed his youngest son's back to soothe him. Even at his advanced age of five-and-sixty, Prince Qoren's striking features weren't any less noticeable. If it weren't for the shadows in his eyes that had seen countless battles and tribulations, and his silvering curls that were once as black as ink, he would've been easily mistaken as his son Elyas in his youth.

Y/n perched herself on the armrest of her father's seat, while Elyas casually leaned on the other side. The four Martells stared at the Targaryens, their poised, disinterested stance akin to a nest of vipers, coiled and ready to strike at anyone who dared come too close.

"House Targaryen, you stand before the presence of Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear, Prince of Dorne; Princess Y/n Martell of Sunspear; Prince Elyas Martell of Sunspear; and Prince Farien Martell of Sunspear," Ser Domeric announced, his deep voice reverberating through the hall. 

Ser Domeric finished introducing the Martells, their faces refusing to betray their racing thoughts, showing nothing more but contempt in their dark eyes. 

"House Martell, you have been graced by the presence of Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men; the King Consort, Daemon Targaryen; and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, the Crown Prince, who have travelled all the way from Dragonstone."

The Targaryens strode to the centre of the hall, followed by three guards who never stopped pointing their spears at them, though that didn't prevent them from exuding the same air of superiority that marked their bloodline. Rhaenyra took a step forward, and Daemon and Jacaerys dutifully bent their knees in reverence to their queen.

A suffocating silence fell over the hall as the Martells remained motionless.

"Bend the knee and show respect before your Queen," Daemon commanded, his gaze defiant against the Martells.

Y/n and Elyas shared a quick look before bursting into laughter, their father joining in until his face turned red. 

"Have you forgotten where you are, my King Consort?" Prince Qoren asked with a deep, mocking chuckle, unbothered by the palpable tension brewing in the hall. "We Martells refuse to bend the knee for you, Dragonlords. Never have, and never will."

Daemon Targaryen's face twisted in indignation, not tolerating the blatant disrespect. Had they been in Dragonstone, their heads would no longer be attached to their bodies. His fingers tightly curled around the grip of his sword, but Rhaenyra's subtle gesture made him stop. 

"Has your independence also prevented you from learning manners, Prince Qoren?" Daemon asked through his teeth. 

"Mayhaps our independence has spared us from the Targaryen's arrogance that comes with sitting on the Iron Throne too long," he raised his cup at him.

"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken..." Rhaenyra recited House Martell's motto, trying to defuse the tension. "Prince Qoren, we are well aware that House Martell has proudly stood on its own. We have respected your sovereignty throughout the years, and we have no intention of disturbing that peace. We did not come here to conquer, but to forge an alliance."

"Yet you arrive in our lands with three dragons, ready to reduce Sunspear into ashes at your command?" Y/n raised her brow, her gaze locked with Rhaenyra's, each daring the other to look away.

"If we intended to burn Sunspear, Princess, we would have done so already," Daemon retorted.

"Oh, so now we're to be grateful we're still alive?" Elyas scoffed.

"Prince Qoren, let me ask you, you would not want history to repeat itself, would you?" Rhaenyra asked.

"Is that a threat?" Prince Qoren asked back, any trace of amusement in his face now gone.

"I am merely stating that once the Greens win this war, they will seek to bring the whole of Westeros to heel, and Dorne will not be spared."

"We have successfully stood our ground in the First Dornish War. What makes you think we can't do it again?" Prince Qoren asked.

"No house will be safe from Aemond's wicked hand, my Prince," Daemon stated. "That boy honours nothing but cruelty, and is seduced by the promise of his own ascent."

"Doesn't sound so different from the rest of you," Prince Qoren scoffed. He reached for another cup of wine, taking a swig before he continued speaking. "Greens, Blacks... What does it matter? Why would we want to get involved in this war in any way, if we could just sit back and watch you burn your own house to the ground?"

As they bickered back and forth, Y/n and Jacaerys shared a look. The Princess couldn't deny the Velaryon boy was rather pleasing to look at, but she already had her fair share of good-looking lords who met the same fate as the rest of her suitors. 

"Prince Qoren," Prince Jacaerys spoke for the first time, "I know that with the history of our houses, it is easy to dwell in the past, but we did not travel all the way from Dragonstone to reopen old wounds. We came here to heal them. We intend to make amends for the past and to forge a new path forward, one that begins with my request for the hand of your daughter, Princess Y/n," he rose from the ground, his eyes defiant.

"And you couldn't come alone, boy? Did you need your mother to hold your hand while you do so?" Prince Qoren chuckled, his eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. "Prudent of you, I suppose. But Dorne has danced with dragons before, and I would sooner sleep with scorpions. However, if it's the hand of my daughter you seek, she will be the one to decide whether or not you are worthy."

Prince Jacaerys clenched his jaw, trying to ignore Prince Qoren's attempts at ridiculing him. 

"I know the Princess must have faced countless suitors and is growing restless about their never-ending courtship, all promising her wealth, power, and lands she already possesses in abundance. But let me ask you, Princess, have any of them offered you the chance to become the Queen?" 

"How bold of you to ask for my sister's hand without first proving yourself worthy," Elyas spoke in his sister's stead, seeing how she didn't seem completely opposed to the Velaryon boy's proposal. "The Princess wouldn't entertain any proposal without a trial by battle, as you may have noticed from the rotting corpses of her suitors in the desert," he taunted the Velaryon boy.

Y/n shot her brother a sharp glance and he merely shrugged back, as if to say that it was his duty to put the arrogance of the Crown Prince in place.

"It's a tempting offer, my Prince, but I don't care much for titles. I'm of sun and sand, and my duties lie here in Dorne," Y/n said, examining the young prince before her. He stood with confidence and poise, yet there was a naive glimmer in his eyes as if he believed his proposal would be accepted without question. "However, if you wish to seek my hand, I won't deny you the chance, but as my brother said, you must prove your courage in battle if you wish to be taken seriously. You've shown me what you're willing to offer, but what are you willing to sacrifice?" She smirked, challenging the young prince.

Jacaerys stiffened at Y/n’s words, feeling the weight of her challenge. He recalled the lifeless body of a boy from House Briar in the desert, just one among countless lords from other houses who were once known for their swordsmanship skills but had been reduced to nothing more than a feast for crows. His expression faltered for a moment, the confidence he had displayed wavering under the pressing gaze of the Princess. He glanced at his mother and Daemon, seeking reassurance, only to realise they also shared the same look of uncertainty.

"I came here to forge an alliance, not to shed blood," he replied, his voice steady despite his heartbeat thundering against his chest. "But if it is courage you seek, then I will show you that I am not one to shy away from a challenge," he said, forcing himself to meet Y/n’s gaze. 

"Very well," the Princess replied, a satisfied smile curling on her lips. "The trial shall commence on the morrow. I trust the Prince is weary from his long journey, so let him rest well."

It was the hour of the wolf, and the unease in the Old Palace was palpable. The restlessness wasn't only confined to its walls as even the smallfolk were on edge, since word had spread that war was imminent. The distant screeches of winged beasts echoed through the night sky, stirring memories of the First Dornish War.

Prince Elyas kept glaring daggers at the back of his sister's head as he followed her to the Council Chamber, where their father awaited them.

"What was that?" Elyas grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to face him. "What happened to not considering his proposal, sister?" 

Prince Farien, who walked hand in hand with his sister, cocked his head as he watched his older siblings exchange words heatedly. 

"Are they going to feed us to their dragons if you say no to the Prince?" He asked, looking up at his older sister. 

"You'll be the first one they'll be eating," Elyas muttered, causing the boy to shudder. 

"Don't listen to him, Farien. I won't let that happen," she cupped the little boy's cheek and glared at Elyas.

"I could see it in your eyes, sister. You were tempted to agree," Elyas kept pressing her, trying to mask the pain in his voice with anger.

"Mayhaps your jealousy is clouding your judgement, brother," she said, continuing her stride and not giving him the satisfaction of engaging with the argument. "The Prince is merely another suitor, like the many lords who have previously sought my hand. It's only fair that I give him the same opportunity as the others."

"Then let me fight for you this time, and once I defeat him I shall finally take your hand like we've always planned. I've waited far too long, sister."

"This isn't your battle to fight, Elyas," she muttered, entering the Council Chamber as Casymir and Leoran remained outside, guarding the doors.

"Father," they said in unison, taking their seats around the golden table. 

Prince Qoren rubbed his greying beard, lost in thought, with an empty cup in hand. Y/n caressed Farien's wild curls as he plopped himself on her lap, his legs barely able to reach the ground. 

"I wish to speak with Y/n, alone," Prince Qoren said.

After a moment of silence, Elyas stood up begrudgingly, never tearing her gaze from his sister, who didn't shy away from glaring back.

"Very well, Father," Elyas replied, taking his younger brother in his arms, and trying to not let his father's dismissal affect him. 

The doors closed behind them, leaving father and daughter alone in the Council Chamber.

"Is something the matter, Father?" She leaned back into her seat, taking the cup of wine that her father poured her. 

"I must admit, I'm at a loss," he sighed, defeated. "Gods... how has everything come to this? These bloody Targaryens have nothing better to do than start wars they can't finish on their own," he sighed as he shook his head. "We always used to laugh at the Old King Viserys, but he would've never allowed this to happen. Twenty-six years! That old man has given us twenty-six years of peace, only to be disrupted by his children's tomfoolery!" he took another swig from his cup, wiping the droplets with his sleeve. "I truly had no intention of taking part in this war, but if the Triarchy is involved, then we are left in an extremely vulnerable position."

Y/n nodded her head, listening intently to her father, already knowing where his argument would take a turn.

"Tell me, daughter. What do you think the Greens offered the Triarchy in exchange for their support?" He asked.

"The Stepstones," she replied firmly. "Up until Daemon's conquest, the Stepstones haven't belonged to anyone. But if the Triarchy ends up getting a hold of it, then they would have the leverage to disrupt our trade routes and invade our territories."

Prince Qoren hummed with satisfaction at his daughter's words. 

"What are you implying, Father?" Y/n asked.

"There is no way out for us in this war, Y/n," he said in resignation. "It only leaves us with two options. Join Rhaenyra, or face the Triarchy once their war is over."

The Princess pursed her lips, refusing to accept either of the choices they had.

"We'd be fools to wage war against the Triarchy," the Princess shook her head. "And if they have the Greens' support, whatever fate befell them in this war could easily become our own. As the Blacks have blockaded the Gullet, they could just as easily set a blockade in the Narrow Sea."

"So that leaves us with—"

"There must be another way. How could you even think of that, Father?" She cut him off, unable to control the anger that was bubbling in her chest. "You wish to aid the house that tried to burn ours to the ground?"

"And you think I haven't dwelled on that already?" Prince Qoren asked. "They're offering us to make an alliance, and we have the upper hand—"

"They want to make us think that. We don't have the upper hand if they're doing it on their own terms, Father. It should be us who set the conditions, since they need us more than we need them," Y/n slammed her fist against the table, standing up, not expecting her father to give up so easily. 

The Princess took a few deep breaths, feeling guilty after raising her voice at her own father.

"Forgive me, Father. I overreacted," she looked down. "I appreciate your trust for only letting me hear your thoughts, but I don't think Elyas nor the rest of the council would take your stance well, either."

"Your brother needs to learn from you. He has a long way to go, but his unruly temper will be his demise."

"Truth be told, we aren't much different from one another," she smiled sadly. "But please, Father. We must tread carefully. I know these are dire times and we can't keep running away from conflict forever, but there must be a way around this."

"Listen to me, my dear daughter," Prince Qoren looked at the Princess with solemn eyes. "Your great-grandsire had told me about the First Dornish War when I was merely a boy of five. He still recalled how his father, Prince Nymor, told the events as though they were a tale of glory. But he saw things differently. He saw things as they truly were. Our people paid in blood, and the sands of Dorne were stained red with the lives lost during those dark years.

When Aegon Targaryen and his sisters came to our lands, they brought a storm of fire and death. Countless were burned alive in their homes as they ran for their lives. The dragons did not distinguish between soldiers and children, between the rich and the poor, and mothers watched their children burn as fathers tried to protect their families in vain.

And yet, despite all this, we endured. But at what cost, Y/n? At what cost did we keep our independence? Hundreds of thousands of lives were lost, families were destroyed, and our lands were left in ruins. The legacy of that war is not just our freedom, but the memory of the suffering our people endured. That is the burden we carry, the price that was paid. 

And if what they say about that boy Aemond is true, if he plans to bring the whole of Westeros to heel, then I fear that'll be the beginning of the Second Dornish War... and as your father, that is something I don't want you, your brothers, and our people to ever live."

Once Prince Qoren stopped speaking, his eyes were filled with sorrow, and Y/n couldn't help but reach for his hand.

"Why are you telling me this, Father?"

"You are to become the Princess of Dorne once I pass," Prince Qoren smiled sadly. "I wish I could carry the burden of this choice, so you won't have to bear its consequences but..."

"Father, I—"

"Tomorrow's trial will determine more than just your marriage with the Velaryon boy. It will shape the future of Dorne. We may well find ourselves bound to a war that is not our own, or face the Greens and the Triarchy, marking the start of the Second Dornish War. I'm truly sorry that you have to bear this burden, but the decision rests with you."

A/N: Hello my lovelies! I want to thank you all for the overwhelming support on this fic. I already have a couple of ideas for Chapter 3, and we will be seeing even more action!

Some of the lines might sound a bit familiar, for example, 'each new day arrived with the inevitable savour of anti-climax,' which is inspired by TGG when Nick was talking about Tom Buchanan, and I thought it perfectly described the life the Martells siblings had been living.

Another one is 'Dorne has danced with dragons before, and I would sooner sleep with scorpions,' which is actually Prince Qoren's reply to Otto Hightower's letter when he was asking for support during the Dance of Dragons (according to the asoiaf wiki).

Also, idky but at first I was imagining Qoren Martell as Mario Cimarro (Pasión de Gavilanes, anyone?) because I can just totally see him playing the role of someone being a super sarcastic bossbitch ruler while having a soft spot for his daughter. I'm curious to hear your thoughts on which actors the rest of the OCs remind you of, especially the twins and Elyas! And if I have time, I might do one of those 'get to know your OC' posts hehe.

If you wish to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form for easier management.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Until next time ;)

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a @yohanseyebrowmole @dracaryxzs @ladyofvelaryon @burningwitchobject @lovelyteenagebeard @redtragedyarcade @dragonrider-3000 @labellapeaky @winter-soldier-101

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

High Mile Club

Smut (Deep penetration, orgasm, turning into sex toy)

Chapter 11

3,210 Words 

(A bit of info on Wendy and future endeavors within the company. OC's new flight attendant, Kim Ji-Yoon (Kim, Jisoo's sister), becomes OC's new sex toy. OC goes to visit Jessica in San Francisco on his time off.)

It’s been a few weeks since Wendy offered you her virginity in exchange for leaving Irene alone. You gladly took the offer of deflowering another idol and even continued having sex after that one time. 

You stopped pursuing Irene for a while. Irene wondered what was going on at first but didn’t ask. It was better for her if you didn’t call her to satisfy your needs and thought that you might have found someone else to fill that role. This was better for her, and she didn't look into it much. Little did she realize that you were satisfied with your needs by one of her members. 

Wendy and her team members exit the room after going over their weekly emulation and head to the cafeteria. They continue to talk as they line up to scan their IDs when suddenly you feel someone bump into you. 

You turn around and see the newly debuted group Red Velvet with their food trays, “I’m sorry, I bumped into you.”

”It’s okay, don’t worry about it, Seulgi.”

Seulgi slightly bows and apologizes for not looking, “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize, it was an accident.” Seulgi smiles and bows once more.

You grab your food and find a table to have your meal. Out from afar, you see the Red Velvet members walking in your direction. They kindly smile as they pass you until you see Wendy at the end. You give her a soft grin, causing her to misstep and almost drop her food. “Oh, are you okay?” catching her and preventing her from falling. 

“Umm, yes. Thank you.”

”Be careful; we don’t want you getting hurt,” you say as you hold her hand. 

Wendy nods and tries to pull away when you say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

She freezes up and stares at her members, waving at her from the table. Wendy recalls the last session, making her remember the soreness she felt from getting her insides stretched.

————

During one of your meetings with the company executives, you feel a couple of text messages come in all at once. You secretly pull out your phone and see that you got a couple of messages from Jessica and open them up. 

“It must be early in the morning over there, but I wanted to tell you that I went to get an ultrasound taken. They said the baby is healthy and will probably know the gender during the next visit.” 

You scroll down and see Jessica sent you a picture of her ultrasound. Now, it feels real; you’re going to be a father. You stare at the photo for a couple of seconds, and then you see another message pop up: a photo of Jessica showing her baby bump. 

“I will be free in a few days, so I can visit you soon.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you then. It’s late over here, and I’m ready to go to sleep.”

”Goodnight, and I'll message you when I depart. .”

——

As you continue with your meeting, one of the executives mentions the importance of expanding into other areas within the entertainment industry, such as commercials and dealing with actors. 

You mentioned that you’ve also had the same idea and even considered setting up an acting label in the company. 

With some positive feedback from the rest of the executives, you all come to the conclusion of increasing your reach in the industry and increasing profits by creating an acting subdivision. 

“Do you have any suggestions on who to bring into the acting label?” asks one of the executives.

“I think it would be nice to get some that are already established in the industry and some new talent.”

”What about recruiting someone well-known like Park Min-young? She’s had a good amount of roles and is attractive?”

One of the executive’s assistants pulls up Park Min-young’s acting profile and puts it on the large screen. 

“She has a youthful face. How old is she?”

”She's 28 years old, sir.” 

“How many roles has she had so far?”

“About ten so far and one on the way.”

”Then we should look into recruiting her.”

”Will do, sir.” 

“Any other suggestions?”

Another executive mentions, “For fresh new faces, how about Shin Hye-sun or Moon Ga-young?

”Send me their profiles, and I will look into them.”

”Also an upcoming actress, Lee Hyeri.”

”Okay, send it to my office or through my assistants,” as you wrap up the meeting and prepare for lunch. 

———

Some of the trainees have noticed an increase in activity in the company's main building. For the past few days, they have seen blacked-out sedans and bodyguards in the main lobby.

”What do you think is going on?”

”Maybe investors?”

”Yeah, maybe.”

A sedan pulls up, and they see a bodyguard come out from the passenger door, then head to the rear door and open it. Out comes a woman dressed in a nice outfit. The bodyguard escorts the woman into the lobby and is greeted by one of the employees. 

“Hey, isn’t that the actress from that popular drama?”

”Oh, you’re right. What is she doing here?”

”Wait, do you think they might be recruiting actresses to the company?”

”That would be cool, maybe they might set up an acting division. I would be interested in joining if that’s the case.”

“Let’s go say hi.”

The two girls walk calmly towards the group gathered at the help desk. “Umm, do you happen to be the actress from ****?”

The actress softly nods before she is interrupted by one of the CEO's assistants, “Thank you for meeting with us. Let’s move on to one of our meeting rooms.” 

The two girls watch as the group heads to the hallway and press the elevator button. 

“See, I told you it was her.”

”You’re right; let's tell the others, they’re going to be excited!”

———

“Welcome aboard, sir.” 

“Thank you. How are you doing?”

”I’m doing well. Let me help you with your items.” 

Ji-yoon takes your bag and places it onto one of the seats. She helps adjust your chair and asks, “Would you like a drink before liftoff?”

”Just the usual.”

”Of course,” and walks to the minibar. You notice a difference in her outfit but can’t seem to get what it is. It isn’t until she bends over to fix her shoelace that you notice that her skirt is shorter than usual.

You can get a better view of her thighs and even a small glimpse of her red-laced panties. “Damn, she looks nice.”

Ji-yoon returns with your drink, “Here you go, sir.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Kim.”

”You’re welcome, but call me by my given name.”

”You sure?”

”Of course, we’re not strangers.”

”Okay. Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

”That’s better,” gives you a soft smile. “I’ll let the pilots know we're ready for takeoff.”

Ji-yoon exits the cockpit, comes towards you, “The pilots will be taking off shortly,” and grabs your seatbelt, fasting them.

She walks towards the seat before you and fastens her belt as the plane goes down the runway. 

The pilot announces that the plane is in taxi and ready to take off. The plane turns around, and you hear the engines getting louder. The pilot steps on the accelerator to the max, feeling the plane moving rapidly down the runway. 

Ji-yoon looks out the window, and you are surprised when you notice the sight of her laced panties. You ask yourself if this is an accident or if she is doing this on purpose, but don’t mind the nice view. 

It’s a few hours into your flight; you’ve been going over the profiles of potential actresses that you are interested in joining the company.

“Would you like another drink, or should I prepare the bed for you?”

“Another drink would be nice.” 

She goes off to the other side of the plane and brings your drink for you, “Here you go, sir.” 

“I thought you said to act informally with you, but you keep calling me sir.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Call me by my name instead.” 

Out of nowhere, the plane hits some turbulence, making Ji-yoon lose her balance and fall. Luckily, you get a hold of her, but she accidentally falls on your lap.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I spilled your drink all over you; let me clean it off.” 

As she tries to get off, the plane experiences another round of turbulence and falls back on your lap. The intercom turns on, and you hear the pilot say, “Sorry for the bumpy ride, folks. We hit an air pocket, and it seems like we are going to go through some rough patches in the next few minutes. Please remain seated, and I’ll give it all clear.” 

Ji-yoon looks at you embarrassed and says, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you all dirty, but now this. Let me get off of you, and I’ll clean you once it’s okay to move around.” 

She tries to get off of you, but you hold her back, “the pilot said to remain seated, remember.” 

“But I’m sitting on you; I’m heavy.”

“Not at all. I don’t mind; I prefer you to stay and not get hurt.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay,” as she positions herself better on your lap. Over the next few minutes, you both experience some turbulence, with Ji-yoon slightly grinding against your lower region. 

Ji-yoon feels embarrassed sitting on her boss's lap but, at the same time, doesn’t complain since she finds you attractive. She knows that these types of things come with the job, especially the turbulence. 

She positions herself better onto your lower region and feels your limp cock grinding against her ass. “He’s huge, it’s this big, and it’s not even hard. I’m curious how big it is.” 

Your cock begins to harden as Ji-yoon slowly grinds her ass on you. She turns her head towards you and see that she’s biting her lip. Realizing that she’s enjoying it, you grab her by the waist and press your cock closer to her ass. You then see her unbutton her jacket and takes it off, giving you a full view of her nape.

You get closer, allowing your breath to reach the back of her nape, causing her to shiver. As you are about to go in for a kiss, you hear a, ”We are all clear. You are all more than welcome to unfasten your seatbelts and move around. I appreciate your understanding.”

Ji-yoon spans back to reality and quickly gets off of you. She tries to apologize for her actions but notices the large bulge in your pants. She bites her lip and says, “I’m sorry for spilling your drink on you; let me clean that up.” 

You take off your dress shirt, revealing your build. She gasps and covers her mouth before going to the laboratory in the back of the plane. You follow her and see her scrubbing your shirt with soap and water, “It’s okay if you can’t get it off.”

”I just feel bad since it was my fault,” and she turns around, grazing her hand on your abs. 

“How about we call it a day? I’m getting kind of tired.”

”Of course, let me set up your room for you.”

After a few minutes, Ji-yoon sets up your private quarters and puts your sleepwear on the bed. 

Ji-yoon watches you change from across the plane. She notices you getting into getting completely nude and only putting on the shorts from the sleepwear she gave you. “Fuck, he’s huge.” She crosses her legs, “What are you thinking, Ji-Yoon? He’s your boss.” She pinches her arm to return to reality, but then she sees you pop out and ask, “Do you have a toothbrush? I can’t seem to find mine.” 

She watches as you walk out of your room and into the aisle and can’t help but look up and down at your body. 

“Y…yes. Let me check.” 

You lay on your bed, staring at the window for a few minutes, when you remember you left your phone in the laboratory. You slowly slide the door to your room and go to the laboratory when you see Ji-yoon inside. You see her stand in front of the mirror and notice her holding your shirt to her nose. Not wanting to make it awkward, you try to go back but meet her eyes.

She freaks out, drops your shirt, and opens the door to explain herself. “It isn’t what it looks like.” 

“Okay, I just came here to get my phone.” 

She looks back, sees your phone in one of the storage compartments, and hands it back to you. 

As she hands you her phone, you look down and see a thick but transparent substance running down her thighs. She looks down and is horrified, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It's just that I’ve been neglected, and what happened earlier excited me.” 

She covers her face with the sudden confession and tries to walk away, but you grab her hand, stopping her. “I get what you mean. How about having a little fun?” smirking. 

“What do you mean?” 

“How about we join the high mile club?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by the suggestion, but the idea of having sex on an airplane, especially while working and with her boss, is a total turn-on.

 She checks you out and bites her lip, letting you know her answer. You take the lead and head towards your room with a grin on your face.

After closing the door, you press her against the wall and go for a kiss. She reciprocates, giving you a sloppy kissing session. You undo her blouse and expose her white bra. Ji-yoon looks at you with hungry eyes, telling you to take her, and you do. 

You go in for her neck and begin kissing it, slowly moving towards her chest and leaving a slight trail. You hear her moan and undo her bra, dropping it on the floor as you cup her small breast between your hands. 

She gasps as you flick her nipples just before taking one into your mouth. “Ahh, fuck. That feels good.” 

With your mouth attached to her breast, you pick her against the wall. She wraps her legs around your waist, enjoying the feeling of your tongue flicking her nub. 

After a few minutes, you walk towards the bed and slowly place her down. She can’t wait to see what will happen next and undoes her skirt. 

“Fuck, you’re hot. I want to see what you have right there,” as you move towards her lower region. In one quick move, you remove her panties using your mouth and toss it across the room. 

During the next couple of minutes, prepping her for the main event. Ji-yoon breathes heavily as you eat out her shaven cunt, still anticipating for what’s to come. “Hmm, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

”You said your boyfriend has been neglecting you, right?”

”Yeah, he hasn’t touched me in a while. He’s been so busy with work that he doesn’t even have time to spend with me.”

”Let’s change that,” as you pull down your shorts.

Ji-yoon's mouth drops as she sees your massive length and asks herself if it’s going to fit. 

“How about we join that mile club?”

”Yeah, let's.”

You bring her to the edge of the beg and spread her legs open. Hold your cock in your hand and smack it against her cunt, coating it with her nectar. You press your cock against her lower lips and slowly move towards her. 

Ji-yoon watches as you spread her lips wide open, inserting your large cock inside her tight body. She grabs onto your arm and groans the deeper you go inside of her. “Fuck, you’re huge…”

With the outline of your cock inside Ji-yoon’s belly, you begin to thrust inside of her. You start off slowly, letting her get adjusted to your length before increasing the pace. Ji-yoon’s reaction shows that she’s enjoying it and plays with her small breasts. 

“Who’s bigger? Me or your boyfriend?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by your question, but the way your cock is hitting the right places and areas her boyfriend has never reached before, the answer was obvious, “You, you’re much bigger than my boyfriend. He can’t compare to you; he has a tiny cock.”

Satisfied by her response, you decide to reward her by fucking her in her deepest parts. You lift Ji-yoon’s legs up and place her in a mating press. She groans when you hit the end of her womb, a place untouched by her boyfriend.

“You like that?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re so tight. Has your boyfriend ever reached this deep?”

“N..no, he hasn’t, it’s my first time. It feels so good.” 

“Then let’s make this a great memory,” as you begin to thrust rough and rapidly.  

“Fuck, you’re reaching so deep inside of me, I’m feeling weird.”

”It’s normal, you’re about to cum.”

”I’ve never felt that way when I have sex with my boyfriend.”

”Fuck, your boyfriend. You’re with me.” 

Ji-Yoon is reaching her orgasm, trembling from the new experience. She’s just able to cum, when you stop and pull out, “Don’t please, I’m so close to cumming.” 

“Beg for it.”

”Please, let me cum. I’ll do anything.”

”Anything?”

”Yes, just let me cum, and I’ll do anything.”

”Then be my fuck toy, let me use you whenever I want.”

You tease her cunt by inserting your fingers and scraping her walls. She arches her back as you tease her by preventing her first orgasm. 

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll be your fuck toy. Just let me cum, please!”

There’s no need for a response as you pull out your sloppy fingers and shove your cock back instead of her begging womb. Ji-Yoon screams from the sudden shock of getting her womb stabbed, “fuck!! I'm cumming!”

Ji-yoon's walls tighten around your cock, to the point of choking it. She spasms violently, wetting the bed covers from the excitement. 

With you reaching your own orgasm, you pull your cock and stand in front of Ji-Yoon, painting her face, breast and cunt completely white. “Do a peace sign for me” as you prepare to take a picture. 

Ji-Yoon sticks her tongue and makes a peace sign with her face covered in your baby batter. 

“Good morning, and welcome to San Francisco. Hope you had a good night's sleep, and thank you for flying with us, sir.”

You are looking at the view from the window and turning your head toward the aisle. You grab your phone and text Jessica on your arrival at the airport. Ji-Yoon pops your cock out of her mouth and smiles. “Thank you for the meal,” as she wipes bits of your load dripping from her mouth. 

“Come on, baby girl, clean yourself up; we’re already here.”

[the-trash-site]

My favourite type of fanfiction at the moment has been 'y/n is reincarnated into fandom to save the characters from canon!'. (currently mainly reading for JJK and MHA as that's what I'm obsessed with.) There's something so pure about the plot and how the author has fun with it. With scenes where yn is lowkey simping or the actual character of the fandom being dorky.

I think the appeal (besides the amazing writing and passion given into each chapter of these fanfic, rec list below) of this is how straightforward it can be. You already know the characters, you know the canon. All you learn when first reading is what ability you get and how you fit within the world. Which is usually attending the school or growing up with the character.

But mostly, what I love is seeing the butterfly effect and the new dynamics it can create. But lately, I can't help but wonder about a fanfic that has the vibe of 'careful what you wish for'. And seeing what ripples that could make. (I write mostly of JKK and MHA but these ideas could be apply to AOT or Demon Slayer or any other fandom.)

I find it hilarious if instead, the y/n is older than the main group. Imagine being the milf/dilf of MHA. Being the same age as All Might or old enough to adopt characters like Shigaraki.

Or being the in-between age of Deku and the teachers. Where your options are; hanging out with the League of Villains, working hard asf to be a top hero to be around Hawks/the plot. Or becoming a teacher/assistant to watch over class 1A to change canon. I mean, what else are you meant to do in your early twenties? You literally have to force yourself into the plot lol

Oh, you have a favourite character, like Nanami, Gojo or Choso you want to meet? Here you go, a new life as their child! (probably be a sibling for Choso lol) Oh you met you wanted to rizz them up and treat them right? Nope, sorry, you're forced to tag along and face any challenges that would come as being a child to a; Jujutsu sorcerer/ the strongest/ a half-curse spirit.

Oh, this time you specified the thought of being dating/married to Aizawa/Geto/Toji as you died? Kinda weird but here you go! Your new life as their spouse! But only, you don't gain memories from this new life, as you only remember about the canon. Don't mind the grief and odd looks the character is giving you, their amnesia darling. It's not like you can't remember the wedding you two shared. (for maximum angst, they have the kids and you're just clueless about being a parent and saving the canon. yikes)

Okay, but what if you get super lucky? You get to be with the main character and do real help! Everything is fine in JJK but Sukuna is dead set on killing you. Every chance he gets, he uses until he kills you. But it's only after he brought you back that you learn it's because he actually loves you. After all, you're the reincarnated of his reincarnated dead wife. (not confusion at all, lol) He was just pissed that you dead centuries ago and couldn't have the life you two planned. It was his way of getting even. Definitely not annoying when trying to save characters.

Okay, for real now. Everything is perfectly fine...But what's this? Yuji and Izuku are actually yandere for you? Oh, that wouldn't change canon that much, right?

Anyway, here are my favourites fanfics;

Otherworldy attraction by Kilkyo851 JJK | on AOE | multiple pairings

When I catch you Gege by Quinnyundertow JJK | on AOE | multiple pairings

Daybreak by sexy-captain-rexy (smolkatsudon) Star wars | poly Obi-Wan, Anakin Skywalker and reader pairing| on AOE

Promise: Thorin x Fíli x reader Hobbit | love angle with true pairing haven't been shown | on AOE (this one is interesting as reader has more visions than knowledge from media.)

Changing History [MHA! Various F!Reader] by summerblack | MHA | on Qoutev

The Future's Keeper [MHA!Various x F!Reader] by summerblack | MHA | on Quotev

[viviennevermillion]

love languages

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch

✧ giving: gifts

As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.

Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?

He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.

So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."

✧ receiving: physical touch

One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.

He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.

He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.

Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.

He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.

✧ giving: acts of service

Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.

He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.

Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.

If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.

"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.

Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"

✧ receiving: quality time

Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.

He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"

"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."

You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.

While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".

Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.

✧ giving: physical touch

Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.

He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.

Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.

✧ receiving: quality time

Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.

When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.

You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"

He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.

He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.

Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."

✧ giving: words of affirmation

When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.

He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.

Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?

Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.

✧ receiving: physical touch

Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.

Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.

One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.

He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.

✧ giving: words of affirmation

March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.

March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.

"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"

Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."

Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.

Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.

✧ receiving: gifts

March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.

So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.

She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.

March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.

She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"

She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.

When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.

Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.

✧ giving: quality time

Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.

They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.

But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.

You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."

Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".

✧ receiving: physical touch

Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"

Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.

"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."

Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"

"Affection." "Do it again."

One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.

✧ giving: gifts

Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.

The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.

Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.

One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.

You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.

✧ receiving: quality time

Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.

They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.

Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.

"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.

Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.

[soaringwide]

PAC: What will be revealed to you this fall? [Ko-fi extended] How to make the most out of it? Advice and guidance

Fall is a heavily introspective season for me, which is why I wanted to do a reading that focuses on self-knowledge. The question is: What will be revealed to you this fall? and I will leave it open for any type of subject, be it something you will learn about yourself, or something outside of you.

I hope this reading is helpful to you and as always, remember that this is a general reading meant for many people and that it might not apply 100%. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

For those who wish to push this reading further, there is a ko-fi extended reading that will focus on giving you advice and guidance on how to make the most out of it. More info in my pinned post or on my ko-fi page.

book a reading ★ ko-fi membership ★ all free PACs ★ pinned post ★ IG

PILE 1 ★ blue skull

Cards: 6 of Wands, Queen of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, Bottled up, Courage, Judgement, 10 of Pentacles, the Sun, 7 of Cups, Page of Swords, the Chariot, 7 of Swords, 5 of Swords, 9 of Swords, Page of Pentacles, 10 of Wands, Hope

Hello Pile 1, This reading doesn't has a set and definite area of life, but given your cards, I think it has to do with practical matters such as job or life situations and how you are interacting with it and perceiving it.

So for your current situation, I can definitely see that there's something lying underneath that has quite a negative note, but that you are trying your best to keep your heads up, being brave and look at things with positivity. You're trying to take care of yourself, look at the future, think of the success you could achieve, and as a result, you might be bottling up a lot of darker feelings that are getting the way and that could put your progression to a stop, or at least that's how you feel. You really are in a fighting mode at the moment. You don't want anything or anyone to get in the way. You have a goal, a wish, a dream to bring things to a better state.

The good thing about the situation is that you are done with the bullshit, you are done with the lies and the illusions, and you're ready to take the matter into your own hands. You understand that this situation brought you a lot and helped you grow, but that you are nearing the end of a chapter and that there is so much more to gain if you dare to go and do something else. Despite being a difficult situation, you're definitely coming out of it in a better place than when you entered it, so it's not a loss but rather something that brought you a lot and has run its course.

For what's your struggling with, you have a hard time trusting and being carefree, because I can sense the tension and worry over it. You want to be more at ease, more playful, but you don't feel like you can do that. There is also a part of you that is still wondering if you can actually move on from this situation, and if you re not going to lose something in the process, even though you know that what you're leaving behind cannot kept because it's dead weight. You don't know where this journey is leading you, and it's creating worries and doubts.

What will be revealed to you this Fall is about finding back this sense of hope despite the heavy situation. There are three things here.

First, you may feel like a lone soldier, lost and isolated in the face of this struggle, having to face heads on what's threatening you and hide your fears not let them consume you or appear weak. Yet it's also the realization that you're moving to the sound of your own drum, that you are free to go towards a different path, one that you chose for yourself and that could bring you much success down the line.

Secondly, you might be pushed to use what you think are dishonest tactics in order to get the most out of this situation. This is definitely a messy battle but one that you can come out of it like a winner, a bitter one but a winner nonetheless, if you play your cards correctly.

Thirdly, the realization, that all that you've been bottling up, all these heavy thoughts, these sleepless nights of anxiety, they can't continue and that yeah you might get hit in the face with them a bit, but realizing them also help you seek a solution. It's just that you've been ignoring them for too long and it reached an explosive point, which is not a bad thing but just a sign that things cannot continue the way they are. A new seed will be planted, a new journey to take on.

Link to the extended reading for ko-fi members, "How to make the most out of it".

PILE 2 ★ yellow skull

Cards: 4 of Pentacles, the Chariot, 7 of Pentacles, Optimism, 6 of Cups, 2 of Wands, Worn Out, Worry, Queen of Wands, Knight of Cups, The Magician, Ambition, 6 of Wands, the World rx, Queen of Cups, 3 of Swords, Valiant a Courage

For your current situation, you want to make big changes and big moves in your life, but you're currently feeling quite restricted, stuck in the same old routine, the same old places, hesitant to let go and perhaps a bit aimless as well. There is an intense feeling that you've outgrown your current situation or environment, but a hesitation to make that move, due to fearing that you're going to lose what you have.

At the same time, there is a strong faith that things will change eventually, and that it's all about being patient and working step by step towards your goal. It's like you can see the night sky above you, you know that so much more is possible and that you can transform your life, you feel this vibrant hope that transcends your current reality, yet it's hard to know where you should go.

What is going well here is that I think you're getting over some type of exhaustion you've felt in the past, perhaps weeks, months or even years. You're finally getting out of it and finding enough resources within you to look forward. I think this is making you look back on who you were, what you valued and loved, as a way to better align with who you want to become. It seems to be a great thing for you as a way to consider your options and see what suits your own unique perspective on life, and an important step to take at the moment.

What is not going so well though, is that I see you struggling to get past the fears that are paralyzing you, to some extent. I think you struggle with seeing your own strength of character, but also your skills. You have a lot to offer to the world, from a personal point of view but also what you can do, but you fail to fully embrace it. You fear that you wont be able to take out the gift you hold within you for all to see, perhaps because you don't know how to communicate it or to make something out of it, or perhaps because you worry its not going to be received well, that it doesn't fit anywhere in this world.

What will be unveiled for you this Fall is a renewed ambition and a desire to overcome the obstacles in your way. You will see more clearly what's holding you back, the hurt and the pain you've carried and you will stare right at it in order to untangle it, because you know it is the first step toward future success. Here it is all about solving these blockages by taking actions that feel different and revolutionary for yourself. You will be aware that in order to step into your new chapter, it is necessary to sooth these sore points and to show yourself that you can overcome them. You won't be holding back anymore and you will realize that you've done the hardest part already, and that these obstacles will seem like they are melting in the sun as your resolution to move forward grows. I think an important point for some of you will be to speak your own truth with authenticity, which will heal you because I think that's something you've always wanted to do yet never totally did and it caused these blockages.

Link to the extended reading for ko-fi members, "How to make the most out of it".

PILE 3 ★ pink skull

Cards: 9 of Cups, 3 of Wands, the Emperor, Relieved, Justice, 4 of Pentacles, 10 of Pentacles, Anxiety, Queen of Pentacles, 3 of Swords, King of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Renewal, Healing, Overwhelmed, Unknown Territory, Traveling Lightly

From the outside, it seems you currently have everything you need and seem quite stable and successful. However, I do sense some type of restlessness. Something is missing, and you don't really know what. It is possible that you fought hard to get where you are at the moment, and now that you've achieved it, you don't know where to go next. It's like you expected to be at peace by now, but the reality is that you don't feel that way.

For what is going well, I definitely think that financially, things are quite stable, you've been careful about your spendings and are in a comfortable and balanced situation. There's definitely something big, like some type of achievement or something you acquired that feels like a milestone you've worked patiently towards. Perhaps you used to have debts or fines that you've finally put behind you after carefully paying them back. In all cases, this used to cause a lot of anxiety, and while the reason for it is gone, it's still lingering.

So it makes sense that for you struggles, you are still dealing with these pains that getting out of this situation caused you. I see you struggling to find hope for the future and also struggling to take care of yourself properly. I think you put your own needs and desire at the back, that you probably didn't really take care of this anxiety of yours because it was more important in the moment to take care of this heavy situation.

What will be revealed to you this Fall is the importance of releasing steam, and by that I mean all these emotions you've bottled up previously. It will be a time of renewal and healing for you if you decide to choose yourself and an opportunity to dedicate some time for the aspects of your life you've neglected. It might feel uncomfortable at times. You may feel lost in this new era, but it will help you unburden yourself emotionally and allow you to recharge your batteries. I see a time for socializing, reconnecting with friends and family, and even meeting new people. Also a time to enjoy the fruits of your labor and splurge on yourself a little, which in your case is not a bad thing at all.

Link to the extended reading for ko-fi members, "How to make the most out of it

[youuuimeanmee]

This chapter might be the start of literally the biggest thing ever and I'm SCARED.

I have SHIVERS.

Almost every important characters are gathering in one place.

Our Eden kids are finally playing outside the school.

For a spy like Twillight, this festival is literally a treasure of intels.

(Though, I was surprised when Twillight mention that Glooman Pharmaceuticals has no further connection with the Desmonds. I thought it's gonna be involved in some kind of drugs' development for war, but ig I was wrong.)

Remember how Twillight always look down on Anya because she can't study, she's hard to teach, and she doesn't excell in any sport or any other talents (except classical language)?

Now look at them.

Twillight finally sees just how valuable Anya is. How much Anya, a presumably six-year-old, has accomplished in the span of 6 months. I repeat. 6. months.

He's pleased because it's really convenient for his mission.

And yet, look at what Jeff wished for the kids.

The irony. The sweet, sweet irony.

As much as it pains him to acknowledge how right Jeff's words are, he cannot. He cannot dwell into such sentiments, because he's a spy. A spy must seize every opportunity to gain any information neccesary for his mission. For the sake of his goal; a world peace. For that goal, he will do anything. Even if he has to use his "daughter" and his "wife" for his own convenience.

Because of that, the very least he could to them is protect their well-being and happiness.

Twillight has established that since long ago. But will things change after this arc? That is the big question.

Now we are entering, what I call, "the fortune teller arc." (until we get a better name imma stick to this one.)

Somehow, in every series I've read that has a fortune teller in it, it ended up changes (read: fucks up) the MC's life forever.

I've been predicting the involvement of Crowley in the future; from his name reference, his hairstyle, his excellence in Classical language, everything.

Look whose name Endo uses for the most popular fortune teller.

Heh.

(will Arnold Crowley appear in next chapter? Will he meet Anya in this arc?)

And look at the star of this chapter, who also plays as a fortune teller!

Melinda Desmond.

Who would've thought.

Suddenly, her earrings and ring's design make so much sense.

Is it safe to say now that Crowley and Melinda Desmond are occultists?

Or maybe just one of them?

I know jumping to conclusion is dangerous, but I just can't help it.

I still can't speak if Melinda and Crowley family are related to each other because there's no evidence of their relation (yet). But I can at least tell you this:

Melinda probably uses fortune telling as a way to collect informations. Her ad speaks for poor, desperate people. She doesn't charge her clients for a single cent. Even if she already claimed that her predictions are way off, it doesn't matter for desperate people. Desperate people will use desperate means. Poor people are not poor because they wanted to. There must be a reason, a circumstances; that intel is probably what Melinda aims to get.

Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe Melinda is genuinely a noble person, and she's just trying to help as many people as possible with her "free" fortune telling. Who knows.

Though, it is peculiar to note that Melinda only started recently. How recent, I wonder. Is it before, or after the dinner she had with Donovan, her husband?

Hmmm.

I'm also curious at Endo's reference for Melinda's alias: Lunaluna Selena. Luna, as in, Latin for [the moon]? Selena, as in, Selene [the Greek & Roman's moon goddess]?

The moon, huh. Remember how Anya's power is heavily reliant on the moon? Like, she lost her power when it's a new moon?

Hmmmmm.

TLDR; Anya confessed to Damian that she can read minds. Now Anya enters a fortune teller place. Twillight used to underestimate Anya's ability a lot. Now he sees how valuable she is, yet, he is stuck between his logic (wanting to utilize her to the max) and his heart (wanting to free her from the burden of his mission and let her be a happy normal kid). Melinda and Yor are friends. Now they meet again, when Melinda is doing her side hustle. Arnold Crowley is a kid who excels in Classical Language, and holds a great interest in Anya. Now we see that Crowley family runs a popular fortune-teller. Melinda just had an awful dinner with Donovan. Now we see that she recently run a fortune-telling stall for free. Almost all important characters in SxF are gathering in one place. All build-ups are seemingly leading towards this moment.

Let's give Endo some space & time to cook, shall we.

[taintandviolent]

Le coup de foudre ; Gambit x Reader

summary: THIS IS PART 3 OF THE TACO TUESDAY SERIES! PART ONE HERE / PART TWO HERE! Reader is suffering, big time. She wants Remy, but he hasn't called. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.1K | some angst to start things off, smut with some plot (we've got an established relationship, huzzah), French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (chere, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), shower sex, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n, and some fluff at the end, because I went and broke y'all's hearts in the last chapter.

a/n: praying that the gambit fandom hasn't completely died out.... i'm so sorry this took me so long. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

The first day is the hardest. 

The first day is the hardest because by 1:30 PM, you realize that you’re in love with Remy Lebeau. You cry on the couch he kissed you on. Why are you crying? Because you can’t remember the last time you’ve been in love with someone, and you know what comes with love. None of it is good. 

The second day sucks too because you go to work, and come home to an apartment that, for the first time since you’ve lived there, really felt empty. There’s nowhere you can sit that he hasn’t touched. His memory lingers everywhere and try as you might, you can’t escape it. You aren’t sure you want to, either, which is troubling in and of itself. 

By the third day, your heart is aching, but it’s a dull ache. Something like anger has started to roil in your system, and you’re wondering why he hasn’t called, or stopped by. You can justify it by saying that you don’t know what mutant superheroes go through or what their daily life looks like, but you’re still sour that there’s been nothing but radio silence on his end. 

Day four comes and goes, and nothing changes. You’re still sad. You’re still angry. But most of all, you’re still lonely. 

Day five… however. Day five comes, you’ve cycled through all the stages of grief and landed somewhere on the spectrum of desperation. 

So, after work, you march across the hall to Wade’s, and knock three times in a little melody. After a few moments, the door flies open, revealing a very casual looking Wade. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and grey sweats. You avert your eyes from his groin, out of respect. 

“Wade,” you stammer, scratching a non-existent itch on your arm. “Hey.”

“Pookie! How nice of you to stop by. Blind Al and I were just about to partake in some Colombian party powder, care to join us?” 

Your pupils dilate. Was he being serious? You couldn’t tell. “Uh… no. No, I’m good.” 

You shift uneasily. You aren’t sure how to start this, so you just blurt whatever comes out. 

“Wade… um. Look, I’m sorry to ask this of you. I just…. I can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t seem like the type to ghost someone, and I just… I really want to talk to him.” 

“You want Gambit’s number?”

You perk up, relieved that you didn’t have to ask the question yourself. Wade was more perceptive than you thought. 

“Y-yeah, if you have it.” 

“I don’t. Womp-womp. But I gave him yours.” 

“Oh…” A beat. “...wait. How did you get my number?” 

“Remember that package that was misdelivered?” 

“No….” 

“Yikes. Well, I do. It had your name and phone number on it. I figured it’d be useful to have so…” He taps the side of his head.

“Why did you… did he ask for it?” 

“Boy, did he.” 

You frown, feeling an overwhelming flurry of emotions. On one hand, he’s had your number and hasn’t called. On the other hand, he wanted your number. But he hadn’t done a damn thing with it. Your shoulders sink, unconsciously. 

“Oh, sweet cheeks. Someone play some Cigarettes After Sex, this is getting emotional.” Wade mock frowns, looking off to the left for a moment before his eyes dart back to you. “He’s probably saving lives or something heroic. Undisclosed mutant drama.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, choosing to ignore his weird commentary. “I appreciate it.” 

“What’re you gonna’ do now? Cue the depressed drinking montage.” 

“That’s a great idea, actually…” 

“No, no… let’s not.” 

You interject with a finger in his face. “Yeah, let’s.” 

“If you’re going to do that, let’s do it inside. C’mon.”  Wade doesn’t give you a moment to reject him, and plants both of his hands on your shoulders, yanking you forward. 

Turns out, Wade does have alcohol. He makes you a drink, something that tastes like whiskey. Maybe it's your whiskey, left over. You bring the glass to your lips, sucking the liquid down. It’s strong, but you aren’t complaining. 

“Oooohohoh, you’ve got it bad, huh? Heart eyes and all that mushy-gushy shit?”

You throw a glare his way, and take another sip. The liquor burns better than any remark you could’ve come up with.

“It’s okay,” he says, nodding. “I can’t say I blame you. It’s that Southern charm he’s got. Handsome, slick, and he can do magic tricks.” His eyes widen, excitedly. “How could you not fall in love with him?”

“Wade, you’re not helping.” 

“Sure I am,” he retorts. 

You take a seat on Wade’s couch, looking distraught. You’re thankful that Blind Al is in fact… blind because she can’t see the way that the tears are welling up in your eyes. You look at the chairs that you two sat on, flirting with each other.

“Oh,” Wade says, looking somewhat surprised. “Oh no.”

“She cryin’?” Blind Al asks. Great, she’s perceptive. You swallow back a sob, and bring the glass to your lips again. 

“Almost… almost… c’mon, give us a cinematic, single tear.” 

You shake your head and suck it up as best you can. You don’t want acknowledgement, that’ll only make it worse, possibly sending you into a fit of sobs. You don’t even know why you’re so upset – it’s not like he told you he never wanted to see you again. He just hadn’t… well, done anything and that was somehow worse.

“Je-sus…!” Wade says suddenly, leaning over to angrily look through the peephole. He stays there for a moment, before leaning back, a sly smile on his face. 

And that’s when you hear the dull thudding that has Wade’s attention. It sounds like a knock – a heavy handed one. 

You straighten your spine, curious. 

“Oh, this is too perfect.” He says under his breath, before taking one step towards you. “Save the waterworks, your Cajun Prince has returned.” 

You set the glass on the floor and scramble off the couch, practically on all fours as you run towards the door, pushing Wade out of the way. Standing on your tiptoes to look through the peephole for only a split second, you get a visual. Hurriedly, you twist the knob and throw the door open, wanting to rip it off its hinges. It bumps into the wall behind it, and your breath rushes out.  

Remy stands there, facing your door, his fist raised to knock again. He has a duffel bag on his shoulder, which slides off the second he hears your voice. 

“Remy?” you call, your voice quivering slightly. He turns abruptly, his coat flaring out behind him. He’s wearing armor now, and looks like he’s just come back from something serious.

“Chere? What’re you –” 

You don’t need to answer again, instead, just run across the hall, rushing into his arms. Your body hits him so hard that you let out a little vocalization, a delicate oomph, as you compress yourself to him. He immediately responds by wrapping one arm around your waist, and the other around the back of your head, hand petting your hair gently. 

He smells like blood, sweat and ash, but you nuzzle your cheek into the rigid plate of his purple chestplate anyway, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso in a desperate hug. 

After a moment, you pull away, just enough to look up at him. He looks down at you, his eyes burning with such an adoration that you can’t help but clench your stomach. He looks like he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“Is this your superhero outfit?” Your fingers stroke the ridges in his cowl, admiring it. Slowly, they trail down the length of it, and begin to make their way over his smooth chestplate. 

He laughs, looking down at you. “ ‘Spose so.”

“I like it.” 

Two smiles later, he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, lifting you up off the ground slightly. You’re on your tiptoes again, smashing your lips against his and tasting him as hungrily as you did the first time – if not hungrier. There’s something extremely erotic about kissing a costumed hero, something to do with uniforms and all that, you assume, but the butterflies in your stomach go wild at the feeling of his armor against you. This time, you don’t try to suppress anything and give into the feeling of it all. 

Someone sighs dreamily behind you and Remy breaks the kiss to look knowingly over the top of your head. Wade is leaning against his door frame, hands clasped in front of his chest. Short of having hearts bursting over his head, he’s silently gushing, his brows pulled together in a sappy expression, with a dorky smile curling around his lips.

“Oh, c’mon! Just a peek? Where’s your sense of fan service?!” 

“No, Wade.” Remy croons, opening your door and pulling you in with him. He shuts the door with one hand.

“Now before we get to the good stuff, I wanna’ wash this day offa’ me.” 

You nod your head, understanding, and reach for his hand. The bathroom is adjacent to your bedroom, so you lead him down the hall.

You flick on the light; it’s all dark tile and cool tones. You head to the sizable shower, and open the glass door, leaning in just enough to turn the knob. The water splashes to life, and steam fills the bathroom quickly. 

Watching Remy undress himself is like a strip tease that has you biting your lip. He’s determinate and meticulous, like he knows you’re watching. The jacket and armor pieces come off first, and get set on the edge of the bathroom counter. Then comes the shirt, revealing that delicious torso again, the one that you’ve been longing to run your hands over for almost a week. He quickly unzips his pants and drags them down his legs before setting them atop the rest of the items. The briefs are last – the perfect ending to reveal his heavy, flaccid cock before he turns, and walks into the shower. He’s got a perfect ass, too; muscular and round. You’re pretty sure you could bounce a quarter off of it. The water splashes against the roundness of his freckled shoulders, spattering against the muscle and onto the tile. 

“Chere, c’mere…” He reaches for your hand, pulling it inside the shower. 

“Wait, wait,” you laugh, and retract your hand. “I’m not coming in there fully dressed.” 

“Then get naked, mon amour. We know we done been waitin’ long enough to feel each other again.” 

You pull your shirt over your head, and reach around back to undo your bra. Your jean shorts are next, joining the pile on the floor.

The water is warm, but Remy’s naked body is even warmer. 

There’s a beautiful, tender familiarity in the way you touch each other, coupled with a hunger that can only be fueled by absence. He hasn’t had you in days, you haven’t had him; the desire has reached a boiling point, and needs to be expelled. He presses you against the tile of the shower, watching as the water pitter-patters against your skin, over your decollete, over your breasts and down the gentle curve of your stomach. He leans down and kisses the hollow of your throat, his hands cupping your hips forcefully.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“I missed you too… maybe more.” 

“Ooh, doubt that.” 

As his fingers trail along your body with an air of ownership, Remy kisses your wet shoulders, nipping at the warm, slick flesh. Despite the heat, you shiver. He has a real knack for making your body shudder. Your knees feel like jell-o, so you wrap your hands around his strong neck, interlacing your fingers behind it for some support. 

His fingers dip down between your legs and teasingly splay out over your folds. His middle finger slips between them, glossing over your center, and slides all the way down, teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger. Everything is wet, but he can feel the slickness that meets his finger. His cock twitches against your thigh. 

“‘Dat’s my girl,” he says, low. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout ‘dis way too much.” His hand cups your cunt, as if to punctuate his sentence and you bite your lip, looking into his eyes. You shift, forcing more friction against his wet palm, the warm water pooling between your legs. “The thought of you been distractin’ me. You a dangerous woman, cher…” 

“I’m dangerous? Says the guy who has fucked me in every room, on almost every surface in my apartment…” 

Remy chuckles and the sound fills your heart. There it is again – that unyielding feeling of adoration. You’re horny as all get out, but somehow, you still have the capacity to swoon over tiny things like his laugh. This isn’t you, this isn’t what you’re used to. Frustrated, you bump your head against the tile, letting out a small groan. 

He notices this, and brings his other hand – still leaving one situated between your legs – up behind your head. 

“What’re you doin’? What’s wrong, chere?”

“Nothing...” you huff, looking over at the shower head. It doesn’t sound very convincing, but you aren’t ready to spill your guts to him yet… you’d rather have him rearrange your guts and not think about the feelings. 

He smirks, devilishly, like he already knows. If he does, he’s not letting you off the hook. 

“Guess I just gon’ have to fuck it outta’ you, huh?” 

You avert your gaze back to him, pupils dilating. You know him well enough now that he means what says.  

With that, he places a kiss on your forehead, and turns his body towards the stream of water. He begins washing himself, and you watch as the suds slowly trail down the ample curve of his back. You reach forward, spreading them over the indentation of his spine, washing him gently. 

“Hoo, the way you touch me…” he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear it. 

The shower is intimate and everything is mutual, cue the montage. For the… what? Tenth time that week? You realize that you're in way too deep with Remy. Way too deep, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. 

Drying his feet off on the mat and allowing you space to do the same, Gambit then pulls a towel from the rack, and wraps it around your naked body. The droplets absorb into the fibers, and you’re a little less drippy. Well, your body is. The hungry, whining void between your legs isn’t. 

When Gambit turns, you catch a glimpse of his half-hard cock and blush. Even though you’ve fucked it, sucked it and everything else, the sight of is still enough to send butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

He can’t get you to the bedroom fast enough. His hands are on your hips, directing you towards the bed and you let out a little vocalization, much to his delight. 

“C’mere, mon ami… get up on ‘dat bed.” 

You obey. Why wouldn’t you? You’ve been waiting for this for almost a week now. 

Before he has a chance to stop you, you’re reaching forward to take his cock in your hand. It’s heavy and hot and the feeling of it against your palm makes you clench painfully, twinging with heat. You take your time in stroking him to full hardness, swiping your thumb over the leaking tip and smearing the pre-cum down his veiny length. 

Once he’s there, he’s like a freight train. Unstoppable and panting hard. He fucks you hard over the edge of the bed, hard enough to make your breasts bounce back and forth with each bullying thrust, withdrawing it to the tip and bottoming out each time. Your bedroom is filled with the sounds of bodies slapping together, flesh against flesh. 

“Tell me,” he grunts. “Ain’t no place for secrets up in here.”

“It’s not important – uuhhh!” Another thrust, deep as he can go. 

“Cher,” he growls and thrusts again. “I ain’t gonna’ let you cum ‘till you tell me.” 

“No,” you moan, bringing your hands to your tits as they move. “Please, I’m so close, we can — uhhh god!”

He’s relentless. 

“Fuck, fuck-fuck, oh my god…!” 

With a slick pop, he pulls his cock all the way out. You lift your head up, gazing distraught between your legs; he’s centimeters away from you. The tip is red, glistening and angry as it twitches up, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

“Tell me, cher, or you ain’t gonna’ get ‘dis cock again.” He bucks his hips forward, dragging the fat, wet tip against your swollen cunt. You cry out at the sensation, your clit buzzing with electricity. Despite all that, he doesn’t penetrate you again, and you whimper at the empty sensation. Every time you try to move your hips to get his cock to slip in again, he pulls back just enough to put distance between you two. You whine through gritted teeth. 

“Okay!” 

He presses the head of his cock against your clit. Waiting. Patiently. So patiently. For a moment, you marvel at the control he has considering that his cock looks red and angry, aching to empty itself inside of you. 

“Fine. I think…” You pause to catch your breath. “I think I love you.” 

Remy closes his eyes for a second, reveling in the sound of you saying it. He’d wanted to say it to you at breakfast, and he’d wanted to say it before he left. 

“Mm.” 

“Mm?”

“Mmm-mm. ‘Dat’s what I wanted to hear, chere. An’ it sounds so good comin’ outta’ ‘dat mouth of yours.”

He lines the cockhead up, and bottoms out with another word. He’s said enough, apparently. When he takes hold of your hips, lifting them up slightly to give himself a deeper angle, you wrap your hands around your sheets until the fibers squeak. Your nails dig into the fabric, nearly puncturing holes in them. It’s only a few more earth-shattering thrusts before you cum, and before he fills you with white hot heat, the two of you calling and moaning each other’s names in ecstasy. 

After softening inside of you, which is somehow extremely sweet, he withdraws himself from your cunt, and uses the sheet to clean up the mess that leaks out. He carefully lifts you up onto the bed fully, and then crawls next to you, nestling into the same space he did last night. 

It’s like he never left. 

“I really do, you know. I love you. I know we just met and fucked and that’s all, but I love you.”

“You keep sayin’ ‘dat’s all’ as if what we have is somethin’ casual, cher. You’re gonna’ hurt Remy’s feelings if you keep ‘dat up. So, knock it off, ah?” 

“It’s… it’s not casual?” 

He shakes his head. “I love you too, mon coeur. I have since I first saw you…” 

You hum happily, and nuzzle yourself against his bare chest. “I finally understand that French phrase I learned… C’etait le coup de foudre?” (It was love at first sight.)

“Oui… oui.” 

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Part 3 | JJK

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

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut

♡ Rated: T for Treachery 

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! 

♡ Chapter Warnings: Jungkook is really repressed, su*cidal thoughts (somewhat vague), cheating, masturbation (m), edging, mentions of substance abuse (alcohol), horny thoughts, public sex (kinda), lots of making out, dry humping, thigh fucking kinda (m), premature ejaculation(ish?), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (nope!)

♡ Word Count: 34.5k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Low by SZA— see masterlist for playlist! 

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover @teawithhoneyandlemon and @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: This chapter was such a pain to get done 😭, but please enjoy this behemoth of a chapter! Nice and spicy with a side of tears! My specialty~ This is like the true part 1 of the series so ;)

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

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Jungkook yawned and tried to blink away the tears that had formed to soothe his stinging, dry eyes. A sigh escaped his lips before he turned his head to face the clock that sat ticking away on his nightstand. 

6:58am.

Nearly a whole hour until his phone would begin buzzing and the drum solo he set as his alarm would go off. He still had some time to get the sleep he needed, yet no matter what he did, Jungkook couldn’t drift off like he wanted to. He had a long day ahead of him, normally he would never wake up this early, but today of all days, this had to happen.

Jungkook had gone to bed thinking about you. It started off simple, it was like a routine. He would usually take some time to establish a checklist for his next day, especially during times like these where he was normally so busy. Yuri had rested peacefully beside him while he stared at the ceiling trying to remember everything he had planned for tomorrow. It was just meant to be a reminder to himself that he couldn’t go home early, that he couldn’t forget to meet you after work, that he needed to make sure to text the chef not to wait on him to make it home, and that he had to tell Yuri he wasn’t going to be back ‘till late, not that she really even cared. But the second you entered his train of thought, that was enough to keep you in his head, and in consequence, the moments with you the day before started replaying in his mind as he tried to finally close his eyes and go to sleep.

He thought about how impressive you were during your presentation. You were settling into your new role so well; it was astounding to witness. You were always so poised, confident, and everyone admired you, he did too. Later that day, you both would be working alone together. Maybe it was the time he could ask you how you do it.

Then his mind drifted to his brief moment he spent talking to you. Why was he so awkward? The embarrassment made him bury his head in the pillow, a sad attempt to shield himself from the memory of your confused gaze meeting his eyes while his panicked brain tried to find the words he wanted to say. Why did he always find it hard to speak to you like a normal person? It was about work and he’d even practiced what to say during the meeting. However, like always, the minute he tapped your shoulder and you turned around to look at him, his brain just went blank.

That made him think about you even more, your expression as he stumbled over his words while he asked you to stay late with him. He didn’t know when it happened, but his attention had drifted from your face and zoomed in on the purple blouse you wore yesterday— you had looked really good. 

With thoughts of you on his mind, finally Jungkook was able to turn his brain off to the point he could sleep for a few hours. However, even in his slumber, he wasn’t safe from being bombarded with thoughts of you and your meeting. His tired mind thought about your blouse and running the silk between his fingers. He imagined your face, your red-tinted lips, and he thought about how confident you were during the presentation. You had led the meeting so well despite how quickly he knew you had to prepare for it. 

He had no idea how it happened, but instead of him sitting back and watching you from the head of the table like he remembered, suddenly he was facing the board room; you were now in front of him, on the table, and in his arms. Your skirt was bunched around your waist— he hadn’t seen it happen, but he knew it was because of him. Your lips were hastily chasing his and your arms were wrapped around his neck, clutching on to him for dear life as he pounded into you right there on the meeting table.

You made such pretty sounds for him— he wished he could recall them better when he woke up, all his hazy mind could remember in good detail was how nice it felt to be inside you. You felt so good, every move he made inside your warmth had him feeling like he was on the verge of losing his mind. Tears filled his eyes quicker than he thought possible— but then, he was actually crying.

Jungkook had pulled away. He didn’t know when, but suddenly he was staring at the blurred faces of all the executives that were in the meeting room.

“He’s pathetic.”

“I can’t believe he’s cheating on his wife.”

“He’s just like his parents.”

“Bastard.”

“Why would we trust someone like him to run the company?”

He couldn’t pick apart the voices, but the prosecution was distinct, and he heard every word so clearly. They never moved, he couldn’t even see their faces, but their words had tears rolling down his cheeks like a riverbank after a summer storm. They wouldn’t stop, but neither could he because you just felt so fucking good he could care less about what they say at this point. Jungkook was so desperate, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were in the middle of the most devastating, earth-shattering, cosmic event where the walls were crumbling around him and the floor was ready to swallow him whole; nothing was going to stop him from feeling you.

Nevertheless, the voices were all so loud in the background, it was mind numbing. He just wanted to enjoy this, but he knew he didn’t deserve to. They were right after all, what was he doing?! His body wanted it more than words could describe, but his mind was constantly telling him he shouldn’t do this, that he needed to listen and remember his wife, to remember Yuri, except he couldn’t. The fact that the judgmental remarks of the executives weren’t enough to stop him in his quest to have you, spoke volumes, and it just made the ache in his heart even worse.

Jungkook yearned to remember more of you instead of the accusations, like how it felt to have you that close. He wished he took in every detail— your expression as he pushed inside you, your lips against his, or recalled if he got the chance to kiss the exposed skin revealed by your off-the-shoulder, purple blouse like he had wanted to all day.

When he woke up, his room was still dark, his face was wet with sweat and tears, and he was painfully hard. It hurt so much, Jungkook panicked at first as he reached under the cover hoping his sinful dream hadn’t resulted in a mess— Yuri would hate him so much if it did. That happened once and she’d screamed at him all day about how disgusting he was. But no, this wasn’t that type of dream, but a dream nonetheless that created a horrible problem.

In desperation, Jungkook looked over to Yuri, who was still sleeping next to him, and considered waking her up to help him. Would she? He’s tried his best to do everything she asked, but he knew it would only make her hate him further.

Everything Jungkook did made her hate him even more.

And fixing this himself was off the table— he couldn’t stoop to a level that low. He’d done well for so long, he wouldn’t give up now; it’s what he kept telling himself, but everything inside his body was screaming for him to run to the bathroom and fix this. But how pitiful would that be?

He couldn’t, he just fucking couldn’t. It’s just been so long, too long…

Jungkook both wished and dreaded for Yuri to wake up. He didn’t want her to see him like this, he knew he looked pitiful right now, but he knew she’d make him forget about his dream in no time.

There was no excuse, the only person who he should be fantasizing about is his wife; but you, you just won’t leave him alone. With your short skirts, pretty red lips, and unwavering confidence. It’s only gotten worse as the months have passed— so much worse, he could hardly look at you without remembering what his sinful imagination had pictured of you. He was so disgusting, so fucking disgusting.

Every day he hoped Yuri would put him out his misery— in his most desperate moments, he’d thought about telling her what’s filled his imagination, wishing that it would make her fuck the thoughts of his coworker out of him.

His frustration has affected his marriage, he knew that. He’d been so irritable these days, how in the world could he be the perfect husband if he really couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for five seconds? But he was trying, he really was, but not hard enough.

That’s why he’d been laying here for the last twenty minutes. He had to be on his best behavior, he had to show Yuri he really was trying— no matter how much it hurt, he wouldn’t give into such deplorable urges. He wanted to be good for her. 

At first, Jungkook tried to go back to sleep. The minute he opened his eyes and felt his problem, he’d just hope going back to bed would be the solution. He’d tried to get comfortable, pulling up the covers again, but the minute he shut his eyes all he could see was you and your bunched up skirt while he pounded you into the table.

Jungkook hated sleeping on his stomach, he never knew why he ended up like that when he’d fallen asleep lying on his back or his side sometimes— but the position had his hips hastily chasing into the mattress searching for some type of friction. And it only got worse as he imagined you laying right underneath him.

He flipped over so he was on his back, but his pajama pants and even the covers caused enough friction for his mind to go back to the dream. Your red lips against his, bodies hot and heavy, panting and pleading for—

He’s spent the last twenty minutes tossing and turning, trying to force himself to go back to sleep. He had a long day ahead of him, he needed to sleep, but it just hurt so fucking much. He wanted to cum— he couldn’t even remember the last time he did that. Has it really been that long since Yuri came back from that New Years Party?

Fuck, he wanted to be good, he’d wait, he’d wait until she wanted him again, but—

Tears pricked Jungkook’s eyes as his hand slid underneath his shirt, feeling his hot skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. 

But it just hurt so much. He really shouldn’t be doing this.

Jungkook thought about Yuri, how much he wished she was awake. She was wearing those tiny shorts again, the ones she knew drove him crazy. If things were different, if he was a better husband, how nice it would have been to just push her shorts slightly to the side— feel her warmth, Yuri always felt so good.

Jungkook wouldn’t even have the patience to get on top, his neediness only allowed for him to swiftly pull his pants down, get one hand under her tank top, and use the other to push her shorts slightly to the side as he’d take her.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t stop his mouth or his hand as it started playing with the waistband of his pants. But you and your damn purple blouse. The one that showed off your shoulders and collarbones. Jungkook imagined in his dream that he’d kissed, sucked, and painted them with small bruises. Maybe you would have made more of those pretty sounds—

Jungkook stared wide eyed at the ceiling as he felt his hand slip past his waistband and grasp onto his throbbing length.

Oh no.

The tears quickly started welling up in his eyes again.

He didn’t even have the decency to commit such an act in private. The bathroom was just right there, but in the moment it felt so far away as he slowly started moving his hand. Jungkook tried his best to choke back the moan as his fingers made it to the tip, he was so sensitive— it felt so wrong, but all he could picture as they came back down was you on that table.

Your blouse, your skirt bunched up, your lips on his, your warmth— fuck, why did something so wrong feel so good? Jungkook tried to tell himself this was just to relieve the pain, but you just wouldn’t let him go.

“Oh no…” He tried to sob quietly as his hand started speeding up. He was so fucking pathetic. Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough, or maybe Yuri was just waking up, she’d normally be in the shower before his alarm even went off. Yuri steadily lifted her head and turned to face him.

“Jungkook, what the hell?” She grumbled. She sounded tired, maybe he really had been too loud.

He looked at her, but his vision became blurry as the tears in his eyes grew heavier. He still was able to see her eyes dart down to the tent under the comforter. He probably looked like a deer trapped in headlights as his whole body froze.

“What are you doing?!” She looked distraught.

He hurriedly tried to blink away the tears. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe that dream had actually made him lose his mind, but that burn, that need, just wasn’t subsiding like he knew it should.

“Yuri, please…” His voice was soft, but he was begging.

Yuri pulled back the covers and was able to see in as much glory as the sunrise would allow, his hand that had slipped into his pajama pants, and the hand that was still underneath his shirt. Jungkook had never felt more pathetic, but his body pleaded, no, begged for more.

Yuri just continued to stare at him.

“I had a dream and— I tried so hard to go back to sleep— so hard, I promise I really did.” He was trying his best not to cry but he could feel the hatred brewing behind her dark gaze. He knew she was disappointed. How does he always fuck everything up?

He probably would have crumbled into pieces and started bawling right then and there if her hands didn’t come up and grab his wrists. He was so confused, but she didn’t give him much time to process as she pinned his hands over his head and climbed into his lap— sitting right where he needed her.

He probably could have come by that action alone if only he wasn’t so ashamed.

“Yuri!” He gasped. She was so close, he could feel her so well, those fucking shorts not doing much at all, it was taking everything in him to not rip them off.

“You’re such a mess.” She mumbled, looking down at him.

“I know… I’m sorry…” He wanted her to forgive him just this once. 

Jungkook almost screamed when he felt her hips rock slowly, making him hurriedly chase into hers. 

“Please, please, please!” He moaned. His whole body burned, ached, pleaded— he wanted so much more.

“Mmmm, you know how pathetic you look like this?” Yuri chuckled as she ground down a little harder. He couldn’t even imagine how he looked right now.

“I’m so sorry.” He cried, because he genuinely was. He was so sorry she had to be married to him.

“What is it that you want anyway?” She asked like it wasn’t obvious with how hard he was underneath her. He was going to go crazy at this point.

“It’s been so long since we— I— please— I want to fuck you so badly— it hurts so much.” Jungkook normally wasn’t so blunt, but his lust-filled mind only allowed for the equivalent of getting on his knees and begging her to forgive him just this once and put him out of his misery.

It’s been ten months.

Yuri laughed but sped up her pace.

“Fuck!” Jungkook whined, his eyes welling up all over again. He wished he could touch her; his hands running under her tank top or grabbing onto her waist as he pushed her shorts to the side so he could finally feel her. What he would have given to do that.

“Whose fault is that? It was your dick that wouldn’t work the last time.” She was laughing at him. His eyes burned from the tears that continued to fill his eyes, but he needed more.

She was right. It was his fault. Why couldn’t he just get his shit together that day? He knew he wouldn’t get another chance like that again, yet he still couldn’t do it. It was embarrassing.

Jungkook looked intently at where their bodies connected. His erection was so obvious, he wasn’t wearing any underwear so he could clearly see it as she ran over his length. Every time she’d rock forward the tip would almost push past the waistband, red, angry, and staring back at him with shame. He whined at the sight. He couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like if he could take off his pants and she wasn’t wearing those shorts.

She really would feel so good… how the hell did he pass this up back in April?

“I’m sorry.” That’s the only thing he could do, apologize. He felt so bad.

“And you’re crying, again?” She laughed in disbelief. Yes, yes he was; both in the fact he was ashamed, but she’d also been working him far longer than his deprived mind could take, and he wanted to finish. He only needed a little more.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Her voice was laced with honey, yet reeked of poison. She was so upset at him. Jungkook couldn’t even look at her anymore, he just hurriedly nodded, hoping she’d understand.

“You could cum just from this?” Yuri asked like she was actually curious.

“I will, soon.” There was no point in hiding it.  “I wish I could be inside you though— but I’ll take anything if you’ll let me finish.” How badly he wished she’d let him push her shorts to the side, but that didn’t matter anymore. All he needed was to be done with this pent-up frustration, maybe then he could get himself together again. 

This seemed to interest Yuri in some way, because she finally picked up the pace and started grinding on top of him. The tears spilled from Jungkook’s eyes as his whole body prepared for the release he craved more than anything right now. 

“Yuri please, please, please, please!” Jungkook cried and he couldn’t repeat it enough times for her to get it. He was close and all he could ask for was her forgiveness just this once. He knew this was his fault and he’d try and make it up to her in any way he could. 

He was so close, so fucking close— so hot, this position was so hot. He desperately wanted to touch her, but he liked being underneath her like this.

He only tried to hold back for a second, hoping at the last minute she’d hurl those stupid shorts across the room, get a condom, and he’d finally feel her like he’d been wanting for months. However, that only lasted for a second before he was sure he was about to spiral off the edge he craved. But it didn’t matter how much Jungkook pleaded, because right when his cries couldn’t get any more mangled and desperate, she stopped. She stopped and was off his lap before he could hardly comprehend his orgasm was snatched away. 

Yuri didn’t say much for once. She just hopped off the bed and looked at him for a little while.

“Somehow you keep getting more pitiful. Get your shit together, Jeon. This will never work if you don’t.” Was all she said with a dramatic eye roll, before she was marching out of the bedroom and leaving Jungkook alone.

Again.

Jungkook just sat there for a second, trying to comprehend what just happened. But his body didn’t allow for much because he still felt like he was five seconds away from exploding.

He hurriedly scurried over to the bathroom and set the shower to the coldest setting possible, he didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before jumping in.

As the cold water soaked his hair, his clothes, and finally started to cool his burning skin, that’s when the real tears began to flow. Because no cold water could stop how much he wanted to reach down and finish himself off. It would be so easy now that he was alone, but Jungkook couldn’t allow himself to stoop so low. 

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He’s already disappointed her so much. 

Jungkook let himself sink to the floor.

He felt as if he was incapable of being a good husband; really, a good person. He was awful. Jungkook was such a disappointment, a failure, a pathetic human being who only brought agony to the people he cared about the most. He was making everyone’s lives so fucking miserable…

Yuri deserved a good husband, it shouldn’t be that hard to at least be decent, yet he couldn’t even do just that. He got hard while imagining fucking his coworker and he had expected his wife to fix the problem?! It was hilarious, he deserved the punishment, worse really. When would he learn to be good? That’s all Yuri expected of him, but—

Jungkook tried to be as quiet as possible while the freezing water poured over his head and washed away the tears that just wouldn’t stop. He wanted to disappear. That would make everything so much easier. All he did was cause pain.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook stared at the coffee maker as the dark liquid slowly dripped into the cup. He wondered how he was going to make it through the day only running on three hours of sleep. It would be horrible if he passed out in front of you later.

His whole body felt heavy, just standing up was hard as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Coffee should help— at least it should give him enough energy to make it to work before he could make another cup to push him through the day.

He couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you.

You.

Jungkook scoffed as he suddenly thought back to his dream— nightmare really. Oddly enough, he was used to it at this point. This wasn’t the first time you’d taken over his dreams, you had a terrible habit of filling his mind even when he was fast asleep. You seem to love being in his head.

It was a little more recently that the dreams started, but his mind loved making up scenarios anytime he’d see you in the office.

He couldn’t even remember when it began anymore.

Had it been since you’d spilled coffee all over him? Was it then? All he knew was that you pissed him off for a reason he didn’t even know, not then, not now. 

Why were you so pretty? Why did he think you were pretty? He had a wife!

Maybe if you had met any other day he would have had no problem with you, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed you at all, but you met at the wrong time on the wrong day. At first, there was a bit of resentment— he had never hated you, but your first impression left a mark where a wound already existed. Seeing you reminded him of that terrible day and, for a little while, he made it his mission to give you a hard time.

It was petty, he knew that. You literally did nothing wrong. He knew it was only an accident, but there was something about you… at first you just made him upset. The reasons now have morphed into something more complex, something he’s desperately been trying to figure out to get you out of his head. It didn’t make any sense why every time he’d look at you he wanted to pull you so close that your atoms would defy physics and meet at the quantum level. He wanted you, badly, so fucking badly that he was honestly a little worried about later’s meeting.

Jungkook would never act on anything, but he wasn’t sure if he could be alone with you and not lose his mind. How could he not? Everything about you was like candy handed out by a guy in a white van. Enticing, but dangerous, far worse than what his naive brain could comprehend.

His own anger made things worse. He should have known just seeing what you were like on your very first day. No matter what Jungkook seemed to throw at you, you never once faltered, never complained, you absolutely crushed the assignments he’d give you. He was so amazed. You were so self-assured, confident, and meticulous. 

Everything he wasn’t.

Jungkook would be in meetings trying to stop himself from fawning anytime you’d speak. You were amazing, and everything about you just aroused him in a way that shouldn’t be possible. It frustrated him so much, he was fucking married.

He was a husband. He had a wife. He couldn’t forget that.

Jungkook tried to shake himself out of it and focus back on the task at hand— coffee, something he desperately needed before he passed out on the floor. He'd taken up the job of making coffee for him and Yuri. She hadn’t asked him to, but he was hoping this would be a nice peace offering for earlier.

He’d worked part time as a barista throughout his first two years of college. How he managed school, gigs, part time jobs, and Golden Tech, was something he couldn’t even comprehend anymore. But while he was there, he did get the opportunity to learn how to make those cute drinks most people would only be able to get at coffee shops.

However, he went for the classics today. 

Yuri loved Americanos, iced when it was hotter, but the chill November weather begged for a warmer drink. Jungkook couldn’t handle bitter drinks, he didn’t even like coffee until his schedule forced him to develop a need for it before he even attempted to go outside. Still, he preferred sweeter drinks with milk, sugar, or so much creamer you couldn’t even taste the coffee anymore. Today though, he needed something a little more intense to make sure he wouldn’t pass out at his desk. 

He didn’t have time to nap, things were so hectic as they neared the end of the quarter and tried to prepare for next year. He was the overseer of all of this for their department and was more needed than ever.

A latte is what he settled with. He made it fancy too, using the milk to draw a heart over the shots of espresso because why the fuck not? He didn’t have much to smile about these days, why not add a heart to his coffee?

Americanos didn't offer the chance for a cute design, so instead he focused on trying to get the ratios right so it’d be perfect for his wife. 

Jungkook had just finished pouring the hot water into her mug, when he heard Yuri’s clicking heels as she made her way into the room. She was wearing a short, black, sweater dress, with her shoulders exposed just like your blouse had been yesterday.

His cheeks flushed the longer he looked. It was like she was trying to kill him. That shower had not worked like he’d hoped.

He coughed to keep himself from staring. “You won’t be cold?” He asked, hoping to keep his mind busy.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“What?” Yuri scowled. He could sense her irritation immediately.

“I— I just saw it was going to be really cold today— 5 degrees actually, and it’s going to rain. I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He fretted as he saw Yuri roll her eyes before taking a seat on one of the barstools. 

“Don’t boss me around.” She grumbled. 

Jungkook froze as the guilt washed over him. He didn’t mean it to sound that way, but of course he couldn’t effectively communicate that he was just worried about her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, still clearly disgruntled as she rested her head on her hand. Jungkook suddenly remembered the coffee and hastily went to grab her mug.

“I made you coffee…” He attempted to smile as he placed it in front of her. He hurriedly grabbed his own before taking a seat, making sure he was far away enough to leave a chair in between them.

For a second, she just stared down at the mug, but then her eyes moved to his briefly. He probably looked desperate as he waited to see if she’d accept the offering. He felt like he was waiting for an eternity, but eventually Yuri just sighed before she picked it up.

Jungkook tried to subtly watch her face as she took her first sip. He made a silent prayer to whomever would listen that she would enjoy it, but her expression was unreadable as she set the cup down. Yuri didn’t say anything that gave him any type of clue into her thoughts. It wasn’t good or bad… but it was better than her spitting it out, throwing her cup on the floor, and saying she was better off without him.

Instead of worrying about it too much, he took a sip of his latte, and his brows furrowed as the taste relished in his mouth. It was pretty good for an espresso. He gave himself a mental pat on the back knowing at least he did a nice job on his own.

A few minutes passed by, the steady silence started filling the room and grew more unbearable.

“Are you going to the gym today?” Yuri asked, not bothering to look at him. He didn’t mind, he couldn’t handle meeting her eyes right now.

Jungkook sadly laughed at the mention of it. “No. Things are hectic right now and I have a lot of work today. I’m trying to get there a little early.” He said, taking another sip of his latte. Normally, the first thing Jungkook would do in the morning was head to the gym after he had a bit of caffeine in his system. He always found it a great way to wake himself up. However, the hecticness of his schedule has fucked up his gym routine so much that he’d barely had time to go lately.

Yuri didn’t respond to that.

“What about your plans today?” Jungkook tried inquiring.

Yuri sipped her coffee lightly before setting it down. “I’m going to Busan for a shoot. I’ll be back late— probably not till early morning.”

Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his heart sank knowing she wouldn’t be home later. He had wanted to talk after giving her some time to cool off and properly apologize for what happened this morning.  

“Hopefully they won’t make you work too late.” Jungkook tried to smile at her, but instead he was met with the sight of her blank gaze focused more on the kitchen rather than her own husband who was beside her. He resisted every urge in him to pull her close— a hug, an arm over her shoulder, anything to make this better. But he fought it, knowing that it would only dig himself deeper into the hole he created.

Silence, not even a chuckle.

“I’ll be home late too by the way. I have to work overtime with a coworker, so…” His words were drowned in his latte as he brought it up to his lips.

Yuri, once again, didn’t say anything. As the seconds continued to tick by, Jungkook couldn’t easily brush it off this time around. He wished she would plead for him to come home as soon as he could, and then complain about work always getting in the way of their relationship. Maybe she could even question him entirely about the coworker he had mentioned. Anything, he just wanted his wife to speak to him. Yuri was upset. He hated the silence. Why couldn’t he just be better?

“Yuri, I’m sorry for earlier.” Jungkook’s voice was shaky as he finally broke the awkward tension. 

“I don’t know what came over me. I just— Yuri, I miss you.” Jungkook turned to face her. He reached out and grabbed her hand that was sitting on the countertop.

“I miss you so much, I’m sorry if I woke you up earlier, sorry you had to see that.” He probably would never recover from the embarrassment, but then he thought about her on his lap and how he nearly blew his load right there. He missed her, why did things always need to be like this?

She still didn’t say anything. 

“I’m trying, I promise— I’ll be better…” His eyes started to sting, he knew he was moments away from crying again.

“How long have you been giving that excuse?” Yuri finally said as she let out a dark chuckle. As soon as the words hit his ears, he instantly felt bad for even saying anything. She was right— she was always right.

“Yuri—“ Before he could say anything else, she abruptly hopped off the barstool.

“Jungkook, I'm not in the mood today.” Yuri grumbled as she grabbed her mug.

She was never in the mood to talk about anything. Jungkook knew he should be focused on trying to apologize for his despicable actions this morning, but her words quickly lit a flame he couldn’t extinguish. She was never in the mood to deal with him, to deal with anything that involved them as a couple.  

“So that’s it then?” Jungkook huffed, but his face was wet. Embarrassing. 

Yuri stopped in her tracks.

“You’re not going to stay? We’re never here together in the mornings— you don’t want to sit here and talk with me, nothing?!” He was upset because he was coming face to face with the reality that his wife hated spending time with him. He knew that already, but seeing her walking away so easily from the one time they were up together in the morning, was enough to make him snap.

“Why is it such a crime that I want to spend time with you?” He cried as he stared at her when she still hadn’t said anything. He usually never got to talk this long before she had something to say. 

It was finally then that Yuri turned around.

“And why would I want to do that?” She said with the same dark laugh as before.

“I’m trying Yuri, so fucking hard. I—I—“ And he had nothing to say. Why would she want to be with him? Just look at what happened this morning. 

“Jungkook, I told you I’m not in the mood for this— I have places to be.” She sighed and turned away again.

Jungkook watched as she dumped her coffee into the sink.

“It was shit by the way!” She made sure he knew this. That was the last thing she said before heading back to their bedroom.

Jungkook tried his best to quickly wipe away the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling. Her words weren’t surprising, and he deserved them more than ever. He really was out of line. He was pathetic, so, so, so pathetic— why would she ever want to be with him?

However, for some reason, the thing that kept replaying in his mind was how easily she chucked the coffee he had worked so hard on trying to make perfect. The one thing he thought he could do right for her, and of course he failed. He was just one big fucking failure.

Jungkook attempted to take another sip of his own drink, but the taste was completely different than what he had remembered. The bitterness made him nearly gag and it took everything in him not to scream. Instead, the tears ran harder down his face as he quickly got up to throw his latte away too.

He couldn’t do anything right.

•────•──────────•────•

Things have been hectic these days. You were managing and making sure all of the numbers were being met for the holiday promotions, and also working hard to prepare for the next quarter with the teams.

This was the first time you’ve been managing by yourself this long. Director Son would take a day off occasionally when he had to leave the office for meetings at other companies— twice since you had been promoted, but handling an entire week on your own was a challenge you honestly weren’t sure you were qualified for. But there was no way you’d let anyone else know that. Instead, you put on a brave face and did your absolute best.

Today was hectic, and workwise, not really that interesting. Some meetings, assignments you needed to do, tasks you had to handle, it all mainly consisted of what you would typically do every day. However, there was an uneasiness in the air from the minute you woke up and thought about the fact that you were going to be working overtime with Jungkook. It was strange, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous.

Maybe it was simply the fact that you were going to be alone with your boss for the first time— you’ve never really hung out with the guy before, and any brief conversation you’ve shared has always been so awkward. You wondered if he genuinely might not like you or something, that it might go beyond pettiness over an incident that happened over two years ago at this point. You’d never been rude to him (at least not to his face), so you had no idea where that would have come from. You figured it had to be the coffee incident still biting you in the ass. Director Son had told you prior to his absence that your workload was still abnormally high in comparison to what had been expected of the last associate director. 

Things hadn’t changed besides your feelings being a bit more complicated. Did you like Jeon Jungkook? No, he was still a major dickhead for singling you out over an accident. But were you worried about him? All the time lately.

As much as you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’d get assigned more work, you kept your cool because maybe— maybe things weren’t as they seemed.

Even though it was always awkward, Jungkook was never mean to you whenever you talked to each other. He would smile sometimes, and you’d joke around with each other occasionally. He was pretty shy— you noticed that almost immediately, he blushed a lot which always made you feel a little funny. 

It was when you wouldn’t see each other when he’d get back to being unreasonably petty. Maybe the sad boy act was a trap to make you accept his cruelness out of pity. Maybe, or maybe not. The chance was enough for you, so you settled with— you still didn’t like him, but with more caution. You needed more evidence, and today was a great day to collect findings and investigate further— with you both spending hours alone with each other, it would hopefully give you enough time to see his true colors. 

Just leading up to your meeting, things were already starting to get a little weird to say the least. You both worked more closely than usual, and anytime you’d talk with another executive, or you worked on the mountain that was your workload, you always felt stared at.

You liked to think you had a secret pair of eyes in the back of your head because you could always tell when someone was looking at you. Your senses were going off like crazy today, and every time you’d turn to check, you’d see him staring at you.

It could’ve been because you both had plans later. You never once found yourself creeped out by his staring. He reminded you of Bambi at the way his eyes sparkled in the light, and just how bewildered he looked by your mere existence.

You hated to admit it, but it was almost cute?

You had no issue meeting his gaze— at first, because you were a little confused by what was happening, but then you noticed the way his face would light up before he quickly turned away, visibly flustered, so you just kept doing it for fun.

Then, there was the incident on the roof…

You needed to find him to get him to sign some papers. You had gone to his office first— he wasn’t there, so you asked Secretary Yu— she didn’t know where he was, so you were left wandering the floor, asking around, trying to see if anyone had seen him. Luckily, Hoseok came to the rescue as you wandered through marketing trying to find him— he told you he had seen him in the elevator when he went to deliver something upstairs. 

“He said he was on his lunch break. I think he was heading to the roof, maybe?” Hoseok shrugged.

The roof?

You tried to ignore the way you felt your stomach drop. There could be a perfectly reasonable excuse for why he would be up there. The actual rooftop of the building was reachable only by maintenance, but there was a terrace a few stories down that everyone at the office referred to as ‘the roof.’ It didn’t have much up there— a few tables and chairs where people could lounge around, and it also had these beautiful trees and greenery that somehow managed to grow that high up on a building.

It was a popular spot during the warmer months, and maybe if today were a nice day, you wouldn’t be as worried, but it was freezing outside. Just walking from your bus stop, which was just down the street, to the building’s entrance, you swore your nose would fall off before you even reached the door.

What business would he have on the roof in November?

That’s why you said a hurried goodbye to Hoseok and nearly ran to the elevator. Maybe this was all in your head, and maybe you had a bad habit of thinking the worst— but your worry had saved someone before. Propelled by your belief that there was even the slightest chance of something bad happening, you never once slowed down as you made your way to the elevators. You hurriedly pressed the floor button, believing it would somehow make it go faster, and you nearly tripped over your heels trying to rush down the short hallway to the door.

As soon as you opened it, the chill air almost blew you away. Your stockings and your white button-up didn’t do much to protect you from the cold, but you persevered anyway. 

You didn’t immediately see him out there, so you hastily made your way further around the terrace. Your panic only grew worse with each step you took until you rounded the corner and a silhouette began appearing. It was Jungkook. You took a second to let out a sigh of relief, because at least things weren’t as bad as you thought or certainly could have been, but as you stood there, you noticed his hand come up to wipe his eyes.

He wasn’t crying… was he?

“Director Jeon!” You didn’t hesitate to make your presence known, feeling weird just watching him like this.

At your voice, he turned around, and for a split second you saw it, you saw his sad eyes and the way his face glistened with tears. However, it wasn’t long, and he hurriedly used his sleeve to wipe his face.

“What are you doing out here?! It’s freezing!” You exclaimed as you started making your way towards him. You tried to hold up the papers you were carrying to block the wind, but they merely fluttered before folding over in your hand.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He tried to say over the sound of the wind rushing past. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed to see you or not.

“I had papers I needed—” Before you could finish, he was approaching you and grabbing your wrist to lead you both back to the door.

You looked at him, then his hand on your wrist, then back at him, and then your wrist again. The more you looked, the more you felt your face grow hotter. Part of you wanted to scream and tell him to let go, but you never did, honestly too stunned to do anything but let him lead you away. He yanked the door open, pulling you back into the short hallway.

As soon as the door closed behind you, he finally let go, and you had to take a second to remind yourself to breathe, because what the fuck was that?

“Sorry, it’s freezing out there— I didn’t want you catching a cold.” He laughed shyly, and it was then that you realized how close he was standing. 

The hallway was short and not very wide. It was maybe big enough for two people to stand side by side with a little room left so they wouldn’t be scraping against the wall. But you and Jungkook were facing each other, so there was no need to be this close. You wondered if there was even a foot in between you.

You took a second to look at the way Jungkook was leaning against the door. A slight smile was on his face, but standing this close, you could see the way his eyes were a little red.

“I should be saying that to you. What were you doing out there?” You asked, hoping there was some reasonable answer to this. His smile slowly faded, and it’s like in an instant you saw the dark cloud that had managed to form above his head materialize right in front of your eyes. It rained and stormed down on him with a concerning ferocity, yet he never seemed to acknowledge the way the mood had shifted. 

“I— just needed some fresh air.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, almost like his mind was elsewhere.

“Fresh air without a coat?” You questioned after noticing he was only wearing his suit jacket.

“You got me there…” He chuckled sadly. You looked at him worriedly. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask if he was ok, but once again you found yourself lost for words.

“Um, you said you needed me for something?” Jungkook said, breaking the growing silence.

You almost completely forgot why you came up here. You looked down at the papers in your hand and waved them around. “Right, I just needed you to sign the proposal we talked about in the meeting earlier.”

“Ah right, I see— do you have a—“ he didn’t even need to finish before you were whipping out the pen you kept in the pocket of your shirt.

He smiled at your eagerness before taking your pen and the papers. You watched as he scanned over them, making sure everything was just as discussed, before putting the papers against the door and signing them.

For some reason as you watched him sign his name, it almost made you think about a celebrity signing autographs in the fancy way he wrote the characters. But that only led your eyes to his face, and then you were staring at him, observing him.

You noticed he was still a little pink, you weren’t sure if it was from crying or the cold outside. At some point he flicked his hair out of his face so you could finally see his eyes a little better and you were quick to notice the tinge of red, and his face seemed a little wet around his eyes. It instantly confirmed he had been crying earlier, worrying you further. 

His hair had gotten so long now, his bangs brushing softly against his cheeks, and the rest of his dark locks sat prettily just over his shoulders. It was probably long enough that he could very easily tie it up if he wanted. As he concentrated on the documents, you could even see that little mole make an appearance once again as he bit his lip.

It seems you weren’t the only one with eyes in the back of your head, because he turned to meet your gaze.

“I’m almost done.” He hurriedly reassured, and it was only then that you realized your staring might be rushing him.

You turned away so you were looking at the golden doors of the elevator, your face on fire again. It felt like a century as the silence painfully lingered in the air, but eventually he handed back the papers.

“I’m sorry you had to come looking for me. I wouldn’t have taken a break if I knew.” He genuinely seemed sorry. How could this be the same man who's been petty towards you since day one? How?! The Jungkook you had constructed in your mind over the years would never apologize, let alone for something he didn’t need to. 

“It’s not a problem. Things have been so hectic, it’s nice to have a break. It was only for a signature anyway.” He laughed at this, but then the silence started filling the air again.

You realized this was probably the time you should be saying your goodbyes.

“Do you want to come down with me?” You asked.

For a second, he pointed toward the door, like he really wanted to head back outside to that freezing tornado of no. But it’s like he realized that it didn’t make any sense, so he was just standing there, confused about what to say.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going back out there?” You looked at him worriedly.

If his fumbling earlier didn’t confirm anything, his silence now sure did. 

You had no idea what came over you, and honestly it probably wasn’t the most professional thing to do, but you flipped your hand over, brushed his bangs back, and rested your hand on his forehead.

You noticed his immediate shock with the way his eyes widened, but you pushed on. You then moved your hand to his cheeks and as you feared, he was still absolutely freezing.

“Sir, you’re freezing…” You let him know, hoping this would mean something.

You followed his gaze as it went from your hand, up your arm, and finally met your eyes once again. You nearly shivered as you stared into his eyes, his dark orbs felt weighted. Was it sadness, exhaustion, something else entirely?

You tried to shake yourself out of it and dropped your hand. “Going back out is just asking to get sick, and we really need you here.” You smiled up at him.

He didn’t say anything, and that confused look in his eyes still remained.

The awkward silence returned.

“Um, anyway, you should come down with me. I heard you were on your lunch break, yet I see no lunch.” You pointed out.

It seemed that was what it took to finally get him to snap out of it, as he looked down at his empty hands.

“Right…”

“Don’t tell me you forgot…?” And you just knew he did. 

“It’s a bad habit.” He chuckled shyly, but that just made you concerned all over again. What did he mean it was a habit? 

“Maybe we could eat together? I just have to drop these papers off and then we could head to the cafeteria.” You said so abruptly, it shocked yourself just as much as it seemed to shock him. 

What were you saying?! 

…

The silence that lingered had you ready to apologize for even putting out the idea.

“I’m a bit busy and my break is almost over…” You thought this was his way of rejecting your offer. “But… we can get food together.”

Jungkook looked back up at you with a smile on his face. For a second you saw it, that way his eyes crinkled and you found it hard not to fawn at the sight. You felt good that you were able to make him smile like that— for some reason you had the idea that it doesn’t happen too often.

With that, you were heading down the elevator and walking through the halls to your office. On the way, you sensed the questioning eyes of everyone as soon as they saw Jungkook trailing behind you.

Everyone around the office still thought that you hated him.

You eventually got to your office and you were a little shocked to find Solmi and Taehyung standing outside the door. They were just talking, probably waiting for you to go to the cafeteria, but then they finally saw you making your way over.

You noticed their smiles drop as soon as they saw Jungkook behind you.

“Hey guys…” You gave them a warning glare. “I was going to head down with Jungkook— meet me down there later~” You smiled a bit too hard as you set the papers down and turned back to Jungkook, who looked more than a little awkward.

You realized he probably didn’t come out here too often.

You didn’t give your friends any time to ask questions before you were whisking the both of you back to the elevator to finally head downstairs.

You honestly didn’t consider until later how… strange this might look to people. Not only because they thought you still hated him, but you were hanging around a married man like this. You sometimes forgot he was married, but the more looks you received, the more apparent it became how your colleagues might interpret your actions. But you had good intentions. All you wanted to do was make sure he actually ate something, fearing​​ that if you left him upstairs, he’d go back outside again and forget to eat lunch entirely. 

No one seemed to be worried, and you doubted anyone else would remind him to eat lunch. It’s not like you were this amazing person, but despite your mixed feelings toward Jeon Jungkook, you still didn’t want to just leave him like this. You wanted to help him even if it was just a little bit. He reminded you of Mi-Sun so much…

Besides that, it also gave you an opportunity to work on the awkwardness between you two before your long night together. Maybe he’d even give you bonus points for taking the initiative and being the first to try and extend the olive branch. 

However, neither of you talked too much as you waited in line, which wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. You’d sometimes try to ask him questions, but it didn’t lead anywhere besides a simple back and forth. The glaring awkwardness and the growing murmur of the crowd in the cafeteria filled the space between the two of you. Rome wasn’t built in a day; you knew creating any type of amicable relationship with Jungkook was going to take some time, especially considering you both didn’t start on the best foot, so you didn’t dwell on it too much. 

In between your short conversations, many people offered to let Jungkook go in front of them as soon as they noticed the CEO’s son was there, but he declined every time. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t surprised. That side of you who still thought the worst of him had you thinking he would use his position to nudge his way into any door he possibly could, even something as insignificant as skipping through the lunch line. But no, he didn’t even think about it any time someone would come up to him. Maybe you were wrong once again. 

Eventually, you were able to make it through the line.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? Maybe you could spare a few minutes to eat? My friends will be down soon if you want to sit with us, or maybe Director Park—“ 

“No, it’s alright. I’ve been gone long enough. Thank you, though.” Jungkook smiled.

You looked at him hesitantly. “Alright, just make sure you actually eat.”

“Don’t worry. I’m the king of multitasking~” He laughed, but you still were in fact still worried. For some reason you didn’t believe him, but you didn’t want to fight him on this.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later, okay?” He smiled at you before turning around and heading back to the elevators.

That was the last time you saw each other before your meeting. The rest of the day, you found yourself feeling even more nervous.  

•────•──────────•────•

As your colleagues began packing up all their belongings and saying their goodbyes, you tried not to think about the fact that you had to meet with Jungkook soon, because you either found your nerves returning or you wanted to cry because you couldn’t go home. 

When the time finally arrived, you passed Secretary Yu’s empty desk and stood outside the door. You took a second to just breathe and try to calm your beating heart. There was no reason to be this nervous, you can handle Jeon Jungkook just like you do everything. Get in, be done, and then get out. Home was your finish line. 

Before they left, Taehyung and Solmi performed a ritual to wish you luck for tonight by surrounding your chair with pens, highlighters, bottles of white-out, and basically all the office supplies they could find. 

“By the power of this printer paper, Y/n is going to make it home alive.” Solmi said dramatically, holding a pack of printer paper— you had just asked her to fill the printer tray before they started doing this. Taehyung was standing behind her playing spooky music. They both told you that the ambiance was the last ingredient to reassure you that the ritual would work. 

You called them dramatic, but they said it was necessary to ensure you made it out of the “demon’s lair” unscathed. It was entirely too much, maybe even a little rude, but you let them have their fun.

There was absolutely no reason to be scared, but you couldn’t help the way your heart sped up in your chest as you knocked you pushed open the door.

Once again, you weren’t greeted with a demon’s lair, but well— no, maybe you couldn’t say that exactly. Taehyung and Solmi, during their ritual, had put the thought into your head that his bright office was merely a façade maintained during work hours, that he and the room revealed their true colors the minute most people were out of the building. You thought it was silly, but as you grasped your laptop tightly and saw that his office was dark apart from the faint glow of a couple of candles placed around the tables, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had entered the right room. This certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Y/n—” You heard, but suddenly there was a loud thud making you nearly jump out of your skin as you snapped your head towards the commotion. “Shit!” You realized Jungkook groaned, as he clutched onto his desk. “I knew that was there…” He tried to laugh, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. 

You shook yourself out of your shock, before you hurriedly made your way over to him, trying your best to dodge past the faint outline of furniture on the way.

“Are you ok?” You asked looking down to see if you could notice any damage, but the room was just so dark. You helped him sit back down in his chair.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize my desk was there…” He sighed, his brows furrowed as he leaned back.

“How could you? Why do you have all the lights off?” You looked around now that you were fully inside the room, and your eyes had adjusted a little more. The candles created a nice mood lighting, and the sparkling city lights outside provided that last little touch of magic. It was pretty, very different from what you’d see during the day. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was preparing for a date considering how romantic this almost seemed.

“I always turn them off when I stay here late— the lights are way too bright for this time of night, in my opinion. I don’t mind it being completely dark, but I lit some candles so you could see.” You were tempted to ask where he got so many since you had never seen them around before, but you kept quiet and just accepted the gesture. It was really sweet.

Jungkook suddenly swiveled around in his chair to reveal a minifridge you didn’t realize he had in here. He opened it, and you peeped a variety of drinks, mainly beer it seemed, but he pulled out a wine bottle before shutting it.

“Only if you want to.” He looked down at the bottle and then back at you. 

You were shocked. 

It was just then that you realized you never had a picture of what Jungkook was like outside of work. You couldn’t even imagine him stepping outside of this office building, but if you ever subconsciously had any impression, you never expected that he would be so… loose? You honestly thought it would be quite boring staying late with him, where you would be stuck fighting all forces of nature to keep your eyes open. You thought he would be the stone-cold, boring, business type, where you were here for work only. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Jungkook instructed you to grab Secretary Yu’s chair and roll it in so you could sit next to him, since all of the seats in his office were too heavy to move. As you left, he popped open the cork and took out wine glasses he also brought out of thin air.  

Once you got back, he even told you that the wine was yours to keep (a gift for staying late with him). You looked at the bottle, but you had no idea what it was. You squinted, trying to read the label, and eventually figured out it was entirely written in French. That’s when Jungkook explained that he had first tried this wine when his father had given him a bottle after a business trip to France.

“I had been having a terrible day, and then I remembered I had this white wine my dad gave me. I poured just a little to taste— next thing I knew, the whole bottle was gone.” He chuckled at the memory as he filled both of your glasses about halfway.

“I bought a few more bottles when I went this summer. I hope you like it~” He smiled at you. 

You figured this bottle was expensive, and you didn’t need to recognize the brand to understand that. Just as Jungkook described, one sip was all it took for you to understand precisely what he meant. It was probably the best wine you’d ever had; the sweetness danced nicely across your tongue before you couldn’t resist and had to swallow. You weren’t even that big of a wine drinker, but with this one, you could see yourself turning into one of those people who have a glass after coming home from work every day.

You seriously had to resist downing your drink because you were trying to hurriedly settle your nerves, but it was also that delicious. It was then that you both agreed not to go overboard. You were here to work after all, and you both still had to get home one way or another. One glass, two at most.

As the tension eased slightly, you opened your laptop, Jungkook turned back to his computer, and finally you both got to work.

Most of the time, it went as planned. You were able to fly through work relatively smoothly. You hated to admit that you two worked pretty well together. Your flow was like a perfect machine, two functions working independently, but eventually coming together to create the final product. Sometimes, you’d both be sitting in silence as the candles flickered around you, typing away at the keys, but then you’d always reconvene and spend most of the time talking about ideas, plans for next year’s Q1, and making the last bit of confirmations needed for the end of Q4.

As you both approached the end of the workload, you started to slow down, the last little bit is the hardest to finish as they say.

The whole evening was peaceful. It wasn’t anything at all like the second shift you’d pictured. Jungkook was… pretty chill. You sipped wine, and lightly chatted about work. How could this be the same guy you hated since your first day here? How the hell was he the guy who had rumors about people going into his office only to come out crying? 

It didn’t make any sense, and suddenly you found yourself upset at whoever spread that nasty rumor. Jungkook, with his sparkling eyes, looked like he couldn’t even hurt a fly, how did that even become a thing?

Then again, it’s not like you were any better… you were practically president of the Jungkook hate club before your promotion. You found yourself tempted to ask him why things had been so weird between you, if it really was all about the coffee you spilled on him, or if there was something else you did that you were entirely unaware of.

Your thoughts were interrupted all of a sudden when you heard ruffling. You looked over to find Jungkook taking off his suit jacket.

Oh?

•────•──────────•────•

He hadn’t thought much about it.

It was a little stuffy in his office, so he finally had to take his jacket off, roll up the sleeves of his white button-up, and undo just one more button. He didn’t even think you’d notice, but then he felt your gaze bearing down on him with enough weight to make him turn to face you.

Jungkook met your eyes briefly, and he had to take a second to recollect himself after seeing the way you were staring at him. Your eyes were dark and hooded, and you had the pen you had been twirling around your fingers teased between your lips. His mind was in all the wrong places. He knew that was his fault— but the longer he looked at you, the more his body burned with a horrible need. You looked so pretty; the city’s bright lights framed you nicely, and the faint candle glow made you look ethereal. 

“I didn’t know you had tattoos?” You used the pen you were holding to point at his arm. It finally dawned on him that that’s what you were looking at. He suddenly felt his cheeks grow warm, both embarrassed that he let his mind go there, and that you noticed something he’d been wanting to hide.

“Oh yeah… right, I sometimes forget they’re there.” Jungkook chuckled, trying to calm himself down. 

“When did you get them?” You asked, leaning a little closer to see them a bit better.

“Four— five years ago? I think I got them all during my last year of college.”

“Really?” He couldn’t help but notice the shock in your voice. “How did I never notice?”

“It’s not like I have too many. I originally planned to do a whole sleeve, but then I got busy, married, and overall things just changed. Unless I wear short sleeves, you can’t really see them.” Jungkook explained, his smile fading the longer he spoke.

“Does your wife not like tattoos?” You pondered, and he tried to ignore the weird feeling he got from hearing you mention her. 

“They’re not her favorite.” Jungkook was putting that a little nicely.

It wasn’t even like it was a big secret that he had tattoos before they got married. On their second date, Jungkook had to rush to meet Yuri after an appointment; his arm was still wrapped up and everything. This turned out to be the last tattoo he’d end up getting— the floral pattern he had on his elbow. 

Jungkook got so busy afterward dealing with the end of the semester and his job at Golden Tech, that he never could find the time for any more appointments before he got married. He planned to finish what he started when he got back from their honeymoon, he even had an appointment booked. But while they were lounging at the pool at their resort, basking under the sun in the Maldives, this one guy who had both arms done walked by. Jungkook had eagerly mentioned how cool they looked, but Yuri grimaced and said they weren’t really her thing.

At the time, she’d tried to recover and say she didn’t mind the couple that he'd managed to get, but Jungkook got the message; that was all she could tolerate.

Truthfully, she didn’t like them at all, and Yuri made sure he knew. In the heat of an argument, she’d called his tattoos ridiculous, silly, and even childish. Jungkook didn’t even fight back because he couldn’t deny that they didn’t look right. He’d planned to fill the space more when he got more time. The ones he had managed to brave before getting married individually he still thought were pretty cool, but all together, they were weirdly placed, spaced out, and generally just looked awkward since he never got to finish what he had planned.

He couldn’t say he liked them as much anymore. 

Jungkook had thought about getting them removed a couple of times; he’d even made an appointment once, but ultimately never followed through with it. He didn’t know if it was because of the pain he dreaded or the fact that when he tried to picture his arm bare again, he almost had a full-on breakdown. So he decided to keep them. They were his ridiculous, silly, and maybe even childish history.

Instead, he tried to be content with the fact his sleeve wouldn’t get finished, and just reminisced whenever he looked down at his right arm about the time when the thought of turning his body into a canvas was more than alluring.

He wanted to make Yuri happy.

“I think they’re pretty.” You suddenly mentioned, and one compliment was enough to make him feel funny all over. “Maybe you might change your mind one day about finishing it.” You continued.

Jungkook just stared at you as you spoke, his face felt like it was on fire. “I—I don’t know—“

“I’m sure your wife would grow to love them!” You exclaimed, turning your attention to the photo he kept on his desk. You leaned a little closer looking at his big smile as she kissed his cheek. They seemed so happy.

Jungkook noticed your gaze on the picture, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache at the sight. Something about it felt so wrong, almost like the two biggest problems in his life were coming face to face.

“How did you two meet?” You suddenly asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. At first, he was a little confused about who you were talking about, but in one of your hands was the picture you were looking at.

“Um— our parents introduced us to each other.” 

You cooed and turned to look at the picture, then back at Jungkook, and then back at the picture again. 

“You found love so early. We’re nearly the same age, right? It’s crazy to imagine being married right now.” You chuckled at the thought.

Jungkook stared at the candle in front of him as he soaked up your words. You were right; you would never see someone in this day and age married at twenty-six, at least not here. All of his friends from college were posting about going to the latest clubs. Not a single proposal announcement had crossed his timeline, yet he was about to celebrate his fourth anniversary in only a few months.

It really was crazy.

When Jungkook didn’t say anything, you took it upon yourself to fill in the silence. “Were you just so in love that you couldn’t wait?” You questioned dreamily as you batted your eyelashes. You watched as Jungkook continued to stare at the candle that sat between you, seemingly lost in thought.

“Jungkook?” You questioned.

“I heard you… it’s just… I mean, yes, we were, it’s just—”

“...trouble in paradise?” You asked hesitantly, worrying you were starting to pry too much.

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a while, his heart pounding at how easily you seemed to notice. “You could say that.” He chuckled, his voice was soft, you barely heard him.

“Don’t worry. Every couple goes through difficulties, I’m sure you both will make it through this.” You tried to bring the mood back up, sensing you must have hit a touchy subject.

Jungkook resisted the urge to say it was all his fault, that he was the bomb in their relationship— the one who was wreaking havoc and causing the mass destruction. It was all him. 

“You guys look so happy here. When did you take this?” You pointed back to the picture on his desk. 

“That was our honeymoon.” His voice was slightly pained, as he thought back to a time when everything was still so promising; when he still seemed promising. You didn’t seem to notice, though.

“Where did you guys go? The background looks so pretty.” You pointed out the sparkling water that sat behind them. It was the clearest blue you’d ever seen.

“The Maldives.” He answered, and your eyes widened. You instantly felt a little jealous.

“If you ever have a business trip that takes you back to some beautiful island, you should take me with you. I could even try to squeeze into your suitcase if you’ll let me.” This finally got Jungkook to laugh.

“I’m serious— I’m sure I could fit inside!” You were already working out your plan in your head on how you’d somehow make the journey. He laughed even harder, like it was the funniest thing in the world. You quickly settled on the fact you liked it when Jungkook laughed, it was cute, this was the first time you heard it go beyond just a simple chuckle. It didn’t match him at all, but at the same time, it did. It was a distinct sound that made you unable to stop yourself from joining in, because you would have never guessed that was his laugh, but you found it oddly… endearing? It felt very Jungkook, even though you weren’t sure what that really meant yet. 

You decided to keep the joke going because you wanted to hear him laugh more. You told him you were sure you could somehow do it; if anyone could figure out how to travel by suitcase from Korea all the way to The Maldives, it would be you.

“What! I’ve never even left the country before, and I want to travel so badly. You seriously have to bring me on your next business trip!” You were both joking and incredibly serious at the same time. You had always wanted to travel.

Jungkook sensed this and calmed down a little. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes widened. “Is this a promise I’m hearing, Director Jeon?” Your excitement made Jungkook feel strange— fluttery almost. 

“Promise.” He smiled at you. You beamed and held out your pinkie. Jungkook looked down and then back up at your eyes, a little confused.

You got the message and grabbed his wrist so you could lock pinkies. You took it a step further, and your hand so your thumbs touched. “Look, it’s official now~” 

Jungkook stared down at your interwoven hands, his heart nearly beating out of his chest at all the thoughts racing through his head. The clearest one being the feeling of your hand in his— so small, warm, and the urge to pull you into his arms was dangerous. He remembered his dream from this morning, that stupid fucking dream he had of fucking you on that meeting table. What would your hands feel like elsewhere? He wanted to touch you too. He was aware of how alone you both were in the building; no one was in the office, no one would barge in and see if you— 

But then he was brought back to reality, and suddenly it was painfully hot in this room. Jungkook quickly let go of your hand as his face continued to warm.

“You ok?” Your red lips formed the words, but he had a hard time listening.

That cold shower didn’t help at all. If he took another one once he got back home, he knew that wouldn’t be enough. At this point, Jungkook doubted that if he sat in a bath of ice water for an hour it would be enough to calm the way his body burned and pleaded for help.

If he tried once again and begged Yuri, would she say yes? The idea was laughable, considering the stunt he pulled this morning. He was pathetic; why would she help him?

“Jungkook?” You tried calling out to him once again after seeing him get lost in thought. 

That was finally enough to get him to snap out of it. 

“I–I’m so sorry. I’m fine, you’re fine.” He tried his best to laugh it off. Jungkook couldn’t even look at you as he spoke.

“Was it the promise? I’m sorry if that was inappropriate. I know you’re married. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable…” You trailed off worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I promise! I just got a lot on my mind.” You, he had a whole lot of you in his head.

You still looked at him with concern, but you hoped you didn’t make things weird… or rather, weirder than they already were. You tried to get back to work once again, but it was hard to make any progress after what happened. 

You battled the thoughts clouding your mind.

What was even happening? Maybe the wine was stronger than you thought, or you had suddenly become a lightweight, the possibility making more sense than understanding just how much you weren’t thinking straight anymore. That had to be it, right? 

Your face grew more flushed as you stared at your computer trying to comprehend what just occurred. Was that weird? It was just supposed to be a cute promise. You didn’t think that was crossing a line, but the way he looked at you…

Your whole body shivered at the thought and where your mind led you. You had to get it together. 

•────•──────────•────•

This was bad.

His wandering mind had led him down a dangerous path that he was desperately trying to save himself from. The only thing Jungkook could think about while he tried to focus on the spreadsheets in front of him was you who was sitting next to him: your hand in his, your red lips you’d occasionally pull between your teeth as you concentrated on your work, and your skirt that he swore got shorter each time he glanced over at you. But then his mind drifted to his wife, Yuri. 

He missed her. Was there any chance she’d be back at their place, ready willing to help him fix this? Clothes nowhere in sight, her legs spread, just waiting for him to come home and—

If he was just better… 

It only made him think back to their honeymoon, when she still had hope in him. 

Things had been a bit awkward at first, but as they partook in more activities around the island, they started loosening up. The pleasant moments eventually led them to the hot tub right outside their room. 

They had a beautiful view of the Indian Ocean, the sun was just starting to go under the horizon, and the sky was lit up beautifully with a symphony of vibrant colors that had painted the water below. It was breathtaking. 

It was Yuri’s idea for them to get in the hot tub that overlooked the sight to finally get the chance to just sit and talk. They did, that evening had been so magical as they spoke with each other about their lives and even spilled a lot of personal thoughts and fears, all while they sipped a bottle of amazing champagne. The awkwardness finally seemed to dissipate, and it was just the two of them getting to know each other after the chaos of the wedding. The moment had made his heart feel so warm, knowing that they were in a place where they could open up to each other. 

Jungkook didn’t know how it happened. Maybe Yuri had started to feel the same sparks flying in the air that he did. He was just so happy and in the moment, he didn’t remember how things got to that point, but suddenly she was crawling into his lap and kissing him. 

Things escalated very quickly after that. One moment Jungkook was kissing her sweetly, just happy to be having an intimate moment with his wife, but things changed before he could even process what was going on. The pace all of a sudden started picking up, her hands were running across his burning skin, her lips hastily moving against his. Then he was throwing her red bikini top off, and suddenly they were rushing out the hot tub back inside to the bed. It was there where they fucked with their bathing suits still clinging to their bodies— He thought it was romantic, the type of sex he had only dreamed of, so passionate and lost in the moment that no one could even find time to take off their clothes. 

If he got an opportunity like that again with Yuri...       

…

He wanted to ruin her.

He tried his best not to get emotional again. Not with you here. He didn’t want you to know how pathetic he was, how disgusting his thoughts were— because, with you he wanted to do worse. With you, he entertained the deepest, darkest desires he’d tried his best to keep buried for the sake of his relationship. But when it came to you—

Jungkook looked over in your direction, your red lips, short skirt, and long legs… he didn’t want to just ruin you, he wanted to absolutely destroy you. At least that’s what he felt would happen— this horrible desire to have you, when he had someone to go home to, was a breeding ground for his imagination to run wild. You were a fantasy, a fantasy that should be burned in the hottest flames imaginable.

It was just so fucking wrong, and the more he looked at you, the more his blood boiled. Why did you have to work here? Why were you so pretty? Why did he have to want you so badly? Why did he have to be married? Why did his brother have to leave? Why couldn’t he be a better husband so Yuri would want him and this whole situation could have been avoided?

In another world, he could have dreaded needing to stay with you after work. His wife could have been sitting back at home waiting for him, missing him. If he was just better, Yuri would have texted him throughout the day. It would have been about random stuff she wanted to tell him, and when she would have made it home, she would have sent him something cheesy like the apartment feels so empty without you here ㅠㅠ. He would have apologized, but fawned every time she’d text him because she was so cute. He’d respond each time and reassure her that he would be home as soon as he could.

But unfortunately, the reality was everything but that. He was the fucking problem. He could have had it all if he was better… he was always the fucking problem.

Instead, he was here with you, trying his best to ignore the way his pants were starting to feel tighter because he couldn’t get it together. He was thinking about those three buttons undone on that white button-up you have tucked into that short fucking skirt— so close to seeing more, how easy it would be to undo one more if you’d let him. That dream too— right there on the meeting table. Sitting here at his desk, it was so easy to imagine you sprawled right on top, waiting for him to touch you. You would look so pretty, and he would do anything you asked. He just wanted to make you feel good, to make someone feel good—

“Shit—“ It left his lips before he could stop it as he lifted his hips subtly, desperately wishing to meet something. That’s when you finally turned back to him, noticing how flushed he was.

“Sir, are you sure you’re ok?” You asked, concerned at the way he jumped at your voice. The candlelight was enough to show the pink dusting his cheeks.

To be honest, he’d nearly forgotten you were actually in the room with him. 

“Uhh— I’m just a little warm is all…” He tried to play it off.

You awed and started to fan him lightly with your hands, hoping that would help.

It didn’t, but he smiled at the gesture nonetheless.

Looking around the room, you noticed the fan that was sitting in the corner. You quickly stood up and went to grab it, hoping that would help him cool down. 

As soon as you got up, Jungkook let out a sigh of relief and rolled over to the minifridge that sat beside him. Past all the alcohol were a few water bottles he mainly kept as a means of sobering up, or to put a dent in the iron wall of a hangover he’d often wake up with. 

He grabbed one, and hurriedly opened it up and chugged it down, hoping it would help him relax.

You were supposed to chase a drink down with water, the tip saving him so many times when he was in college, but lately, he never remembered. Most times, all he cared about was silencing the thoughts that had grown so loud at this point it was almost deafening; it would always make his head hurt, and his heart ache. These days he could care less about the consequences whenever he’d be reaching into his fridge and pulling out a drink. No matter how bad the aftermath was, it was never more painful than how he felt sober. But today, Jungkook wasn’t drunk, not even tipsy. You were enough to occupy his mind, you and the image of you naked on his desk. While it did pose a great problem, it was enough to ignore the biggest one temporarily. 

You were back soon after and set the fan in between you both. You were a little shocked to see the candles illuminate the sheen across his skin— you didn’t think it was that hot in here.

“Sir, are you—“

Jungkook set down his water and shook his head. “You don’t need to call me that— please don’t call me that, especially when we’re alone.”

You stood there, a little confused. 

“We’re the same age right— I don’t know, every time you call me sir it feels like I aged 50 years all of a sudden. Please just call me Jungkook.” He laughed. It was true, it was always weird anytime you’d call him sir, but he needed any distraction he could get so he could finish his work.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, a little surprised he didn’t want to keep the honorifics in place. 

Jungkook nodded. 

You smiled. This was progress.

“Alright… Jungkook, how’s that?” You asked as you plugged in the fan. It instantly came to life and the blades quickly picked up enough speed to have a cool breeze blowing in between you both.

Jungkook tried to ignore the way he flushed at the fact that he instantly knew how much he liked hearing his name come out of your mouth. 

“Better, thank you so much.” He was lying straight through his teeth. It really didn’t do much. Jungkook doubted even a staycation to Alaska could solve his issues, but his heart still warmed at the gesture. You were always so sweet.

•────•──────────•────•

You sat back down on your chair and took another sip from your wine glass. It was almost empty at this point. You had kept drinking as your mind continued to travel back to Jungkook, his newfound tattoos, that extra button he undid— two now it seems, that bottle of wine you were sharing, but most of all, you were questioning where you stood. 

You had been debating whether to ask him if he likes you or not. This was probably the worst time to ask, but the dim candlelight and just how… nice, things for the most part have been tonight made you want to get to the bottom of it.

But Jungkook was quicker at filling the silence.

“Y/n, if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you start working at Golden Tech?” His voice was so gentle, sitting right above the sounds of the crackling candles.

The question had you stunned for a second, not at all expecting it, nor did you immediately have an answer.

“I don’t know, why does anyone start working anywhere?” You laughed, but realized who you were speaking to. Maybe not the best joke. You quickly cleared your throat. “But Golden Tech is a really good company— I heard a lot about it when I was still in college about how well they treat their employees. It aligned well with many of my ambitions, so once I finished grad school I thought I’d apply and see what would happen.” 

It was still crazy that you were sitting with the CEO’s son. A few years ago you thought maybe you were being a little too ambitious with trying to aim for Golden Tech, yet not even two years later, you got the job, and you were already the Associate Director of the Seoul division’s financial team. Who knows where you might be in another two years?

“Do you regret your decision? Honestly, I think you could have gotten a notable position at Samsung if you had applied.” Jungkook wondered. 

You laughed at his comment. “Me? At Samsung? Never in a million years would that happen. I thought I was being too ambitious by applying here!” You giggled, the entire idea oddly amusing.

“I don’t think it’s ambitious at all; you would have done well there,” Jungkook said quite seriously. He wasn’t used to this side of you. You were normally so confident, it was strange seeing you doubt yourself. 

“Yah, is this your way of trying to get me to leave?” You were teasing slightly, but you weren’t prepared for the panic to appear all over his face.

“No— no— never! I just— you’re amazing— I was just saying that—” If he weren’t so flustered, you would have probably heard the part where he mentioned you were amazing.

“I know what you meant~” You chuckled lightly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. You saw this wave of relief wash over him, more than you expected, considering this was the guy who you feared didn’t like you.

Silence went on for a moment until Jungkook spoke up again. “You never answered my question, though. Do you regret coming here?” 

You thought about it for a second, before shaking your head. “Things have been kinda hectic, but I expected it; I mean, it’s a big company, I figured it wouldn’t be easy.” You decided to put it simply. Saying you did initially regret it to your boss probably wasn’t the best idea.

You thought that was the end of that, but when you finally turned back to Jungkook, you saw this weird somber gaze beginning to settle on his features. 

“I’ve been overworking everyone too much, haven’t I?” Jungkook suddenly said after your words finally settled in the air. 

You couldn’t hide the look of confusion on your face as you turned to him. His eyes were staring at the blinding computer screen before him, but you knew he wasn’t paying attention.

“What do you mean? Quarter fours are always busy—”

“That’s not what I mean… I know what they say sometimes. Everyone always speaks so highly of my dad, and he’s done so much for the company as CEO. The way things have gone so far makes me doubt I can meet their expectations when I take over…” That was an understatement. He couldn’t even make one woman happy. 

“The team I manage is already suffering.” He fretted. 

You found yourself at a bit of a loss on what to say. Where was this coming from? You were just joking a second ago but now… that look in his eyes. As he spoke, they grew more weary, tired, and sad. It was that same look you saw when you spilled coffee all over him on your first day here, it was the same look you saw earlier on the roof.

It was a peek into what was running through his head as he looked at you with those sad eyes. If you needed a bigger sign that something was seriously wrong, he couldn’t have given you a more obvious one. What made it even more concerning was that you didn’t know how big of a crack this was. What more could be lying behind those sad eyes?

“Jungkook, people understand you have a lot on your shoulders, it’s alright.” You tried to reassure, but you doubted he heard you. For a second, as he continued to stare down the spreadsheet he had up, you swore you saw his eyes get shiny.

“Ahh— sorry, this sometimes happens when I drink.” Jungkook finally snapped out of it, and hurriedly reached for his wine glass.

You watched concerningly as he chugged down the rest of the clear wine all in one go. 

“What happened to sipping lightly?” You tried to remind him jokingly about what he said as he poured your glasses earlier.

The wine glass clinked against the desk as he set it down.

“I’m fine— I’m making things weird. Tell me about yourself instead? Anything interesting happening in your life?” You could tell he was quickly trying to change the subject. You debated probing further, but you figured maybe a distraction might be what’s best to get him out of his train of thought.

“I was promoted not too long ago.” You smiled, and he actually laughed. It felt good seeing him smile again.

“I’m serious! You’ve nearly been here for two years, but I feel like this is the first time we’ve ever actually just talked.” Jungkook pointed out.

“I don’t think it’s normal to just walk up to your boss and talk about the weather or something.” You pointed out, but again it made your mind travel to the elephant in the room. Despite everything, had this entire time he wanted to be friendly with you? 

“I wouldn’t mind—“ He said it like he was serious, but sensing the sarcasm, you lightly swatted his shoulder— it was out of habit, but you regretted it immediately as soon as it happened.

Jungkook looked shocked for a second, before he smiled, that same smile that would make his eyes crinkle. “Exactly what I was saying, especially when we’re alone like this; treat me like we’re just coworkers.”

“Sir— Jungkook, I’m so sorry.” You felt like you were caught doing the worst crime imaginable— similar to how you felt after discovering you spilled coffee on the CEO’s son on your first day.

“Don’t worry, I really don’t—”

“I’m so so so sorry!” You panicked. Even though you really didn’t hit him hard, this might warrant him to hate you for an actual reason besides an accident.

Jungkook softly grabbed your shoulders to get you to calm down.

“Y/n, I told you it’s ok, really—” He suddenly stopped in his tracks because it seemed he realized how close in proximity you both had become now. Your chairs were a lot closer than you remembered and Jungkook pulling you a bit had somehow created a space between you that only had to be a few centimeters at most. From here, you could see the cute little scar he had on his left cheek.

He was staring directly into your eyes and you were staring back into his. Both of you seemingly shocked at the position you were in and stuck in place. It reminded you of what happened on the roof earlier, another precarious position, but as the seconds ticked by, you could have sworn his eyes darted down to your lips. Time seemed to slow down as you felt the gentle caress of his thumb on your shoulder, and… for a split second, you saw him bite down on his lower lip, only lightly teasing the flesh between his teeth— maybe it was the embarrassment, but it was so, so subtle, before you thought he started to lean a little closer. For a moment, you thought he was about to kiss you.

As quickly as that second came, he suddenly let go of you and tried to smile. “Uh— It seriously wasn’t a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

The moment of normalcy made you snap out of it. You honestly would have believed you blacked out for a second, but the way your face kept getting warmer was a sign something must have happened. 

As you turned away from him, you were greeted once again with the picture of him and his wife on their honeymoon. Right, he was married, you definitely imagined that.

Things grew awkward again as the silence settled into the room. You reached for your wine, wishing now it was a little stronger.

…

Saving the day from the growing discomfort being in this room was your phone buzzing on the desk. You sighed and set your glass down before you reached for it, not really thinking too much of it until you opened it to see a message from Solmi. 

You eagerly unlocked your phone, already having a feeling about what it was. Your smile erupted when you clicked on the picture she sent you. 

It was blurry, but you saw Solmi had quickly snapped a picture of her and Taehyung, who you heard earlier had decided to join her since you couldn’t make it. He had already been contemplating joining you both, but the fact that you definitely weren’t going with her, made him feel like he had to “be the responsible person there.” 

You had laughed at that considering they both were a handful, especially when alcohol was involved, but Taehyung could be worse if he got enough in his system. They matched each other’s energies so well, they had a sibling-like connection you had always found cute. Solmi was a year younger than you, and ever since she first introduced herself to your team when you used to be a manager, Taehyung had always taken on this big brother role to her, and it only got stronger as you all got closer to each other. Their bond created moments like this, Tae somehow getting dragged out to parties on a Tuesday. 

He’d left work a little early to go look for a last-minute costume, and you couldn’t help but laugh seeing what he’d somehow managed to get together. He was dressed as Mario— he had the hat, mustache, and you could just barely see the red shirt and straps that suggested he’d even managed to get overalls. Solmi was smiling beside him, and she had gone for another classic. She had already shown you a picture of her costume a few weeks ago, but she had thrown on some cat ears, drawn on a few whiskers, and you could also see a hint of the leather bodysuit she had on. 

It was a few seconds later that you got another text. 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:48pm]: you should be here >:O 

Followed by more pictures and even some videos. Then additional texts came at the end of the spam. 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:52pm]: taehyung’s drunk and keeps whining that he misses you 🙄 

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:52pm]: i miss you too friend 🥺

Sweet Baby Solmi [11:53pm]: tell director jeon we hate him for stealing you from us 😘

You couldn’t help but laugh at this one. However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s eyes on you again, so you quickly scrolled back up to look at the pictures she sent you earlier. 

They were mainly the same, just a few different angles. It looked like Solmi kept clicking the button to get as many pictures as she could. There were some with them holding up glasses of beer and clinking them together. Solmi must have also gotten someone to take their picture because she sent you a full-body one where you could see their entire costumes. You could see a few more details you didn’t get to at first. Taehyung had on these thick white gloves and boots. Solmi had left her bodysuit unzipped a little extra than what they advertised in the picture she’d shown you. You knew her goal was to try and get laid tonight, you silently saluted her, hoping she could succeed. She had even decided to brave wearing high-heeled boots to add that extra level of sexy to her outfit. There were also some pictures that showed they had moved into whatever club or bar they ended up in, and were busy enjoying themselves on the dance floor. 

You were so caught up in the sadness steadily filling your heart seeing your friends out having a great time while you were stuck at work, that you really forgot Jungkook was in the room with you. It was something you had gone through all your life, your friends out having fun and always needing to leave you behind… at least you could have been home enjoying yourself, but—

You scrolled back up and clicked on the first video she sent you. The sound of music filled the silence, and you were quickly greeted with Solmi’s smiling face as she danced along. She then brought the phone close. 

“You should be here Y/n! You left me with this idiot—” She then turned the camera around to reveal Taehyung who was dancing intensely beside her. It took him a second to notice the camera, but then he smiled as she brought it close. 

“Miss you Y/n!” He tried to say over the music before the video cut off. 

Awwww… you missed them too. But your attention tore away from your phone when you suddenly noticed Jungkook leaning over. 

“They’re at a club on a Tuesday?” He asked curiously. 

You smiled. “Mmmm, someone’s nosy.” You chuckled and that immediately had Jungkook leaning back. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t—” He quickly tried to defend, but you just laughed and leaned over yourself. 

“You’re fine, look.” You held out your phone to him so he could see a little better. At first you contemplated showing your boss these pictures, but you figured there was no harm, they were honestly cute. 

“It's Halloween?” He suddenly said, taking a better look to see they were dressed up.

“Yeah, did you forget?” You laughed, making him chuckle too.

“My memory is horrible these days.” Jungkook shied, running his hands through his hair.

“Understandable. Things have been really busy these days, it’s hard to keep track of what’s happening anymore.”

Jungkook nodded along as you spoke, but he couldn’t help but sigh. It felt like the world was moving without him, that he was just an observer in the background until moments like these where he was brought back down to realize time had in fact passed, and it was always more than expected. He could have sworn it was Chuseok just the other week. 

“Solmi had wanted to go bar hopping after she heard about all the stuff that they’re doing in Itaewon this year. She wanted me to come, but I was busy, so Taehyung decided to tag along and make sure she doesn’t do anything too crazy.” You smiled as you scrolled through the pictures and videos, and you landed on a particularly funny one where Taehyung managed to find a random pole and Solmi captured him hanging and swinging around it.   

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a special occasion. If I would’ve known, I could've worked on this by my—” But you stopped him. 

“It’s fine, two people make the work go faster, and I had been contemplating going anyway. Who wants to go out on a Tuesday besides Solmi?” You cringed, in all likelihood you probably would have spent your evening cozied up under your blankets, enjoying any free time you could manage and catching up on sleep when you got too tired. “I know they’re going to be struggling trying to get to work tomorrow.” You laughed at your words and at another video where someone had joined Taehyung on the pole, a guy in one of those full-body suits people use for greenscreen stuff. 

But despite your words, Jungkook’s silence told you he still was thinking about it. 

“Jungkook, I promise it’s fine. The wine alone makes up for it.” You smiled. You were definitely going to brag to them that you were gifted expensive wine from the Jeon Jungkook. They probably wouldn’t believe it until they came over and saw the bottle. You also had plans to look it up afterward, check the price, and confirm your sneaking suspicion that this really would make up for it.

Another video. Without pressing play, you could see Taehyung had the phone. What was going on? 

“Y/n, baby, I miss you so much. Solmi keeps trying to—” But the video cuts off before he could finish. 

You laughed and kept going with a smile on your face. You didn’t even notice Jungkook’s eyes or the fact that you didn’t question the nickname.

Hmmm.

“Yah… I don’t think I could do this anymore.” You suddenly said, as more and more hectic documentation came from Solmi.

Jungkook turned to you a little confused about what you meant. You showed him your phone again and revealed the crowd Solmi and Taehyung had found themselves in in their latest pictures. 

“Partying like this. I mean, I didn’t even do all this when I was in college, but now…”  You laughed. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

“I don’t think we’re old,” Jungkook interjected, making you laugh.

“Oooo, is this when Jeon Jungkook reveals that he actually enjoys going to parties?” The thought was hilarious for some reason. He didn't seem like the party type, at all. You couldn’t imagine him doing anything else but work. 

“No— I just don’t think our age is a factor in us being able to go out and have fun at events like this…” 

You hummed at his answer. “I don’t know, the older I get, the more staying home and doing absolutely nothing becomes more and more appealing.” 

He laughed at that. “For me, that has nothing to do with getting older. But I somewhat see your point, college me was a very different person.” 

Was he?

You peered at him. Now that the thought was in your head, trying to imagine college-aged Jungkook. Hmmm…

You turned around over to where Jungkook had hung up his degrees. You had seen them before, but being this close actually gave you the chance to really look at them. 

You found yourself both shocked and not shocked at all to find out he graduated from SNU. It was the top university in the country, and of course the golden boy probably easily got accepted. No, that wasn't surprising, what was more interesting was the fact he didn’t have one but two bachelor's degrees, one in business and the other in computer science, you quickly read. It wasn’t the most outrageous thing to imagine because he was going to be the CEO of a tech company, but you knew that jaded perception you had of Jungkook still lingered because you couldn’t picture him actually managing to do all that work to get two very different degrees. 

“Did you even have time to go to parties?” You couldn’t help but ask. For all you knew he paid his way to get these degrees, but the more you talked with him, the more you couldn’t picture him doing that.

Jungkook laughed as he leaned back in his chair. “No, but Jimin hyung made me get out sometimes.”

His words reminded you that Jimin had mentioned that he and Jungkook had gone to the same college. As it sunk in though, you found that information a little easier to digest. Jimin had always seemed really smart. 

“Were you always the guy standing in the corner, brooding, clearly upset because his friend dragged him out of the house?” You giggled, and Jungkook joined in.

“You really think I’m that boring?” He laughed and you only just now realized how much closer you both were to each other once again as you looked into his sparkling eyes.  

“You tell me.” You smirked. 

He laughed again.

“Where did you go? Did you go to school in Seoul? I'm surprised we never ran into each other.” You suddenly heard Jungkook ask. 

“Korea University.” You answered quickly, but then your face grew flushed. You should be confident; it was really a notable achievement and most people would be in awe anytime you mentioned it, but for some reason everything about Jungkook made you a little self-conscious. 

“Ooo, so we were pretty much in the same boat then.” He said, and you looked at him with questioning eyes. 

“Did you even have time to go to parties?” He chuckled, repeating your original question. You playfully rolled your eyes at that. 

“I would make time, as much as I could, but I was often in situations like these where I’d be the one left behind so I could work.” You were proclaimed the most fun, non-fun person by your friend group in college.

“Were you the person in the corner?” His low voice had you feeling a little funny.

“Jungkook I’m a lot of things. I’ve been called a workaholic, understandable, but a wallflower is not one of them. You will find me on the dance floor at any given opportunity,” you boasted. 

Jungkook laughed again, the pinkness to his cheeks making you fawn. “I would like to see that.” 

Oh… you hated the way your body tingled at the thought of him watching you.

“Get me alone like this on a Friday or something, bring more wine like this one, and I’ll dance for you.” You smirked. 

His eyes quickly glanced over you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Noted.” 

You nodded, but it was mainly to shake the thoughts running through your mind out of your head. Fuck, Jeon Jungkook.     

“So you haven’t changed much then?” He inquired further. 

You shook your head. “I’ve always been this way. I put work before anything else, but I try to make a little time for fun sometimes.” You smiled. You turned back to Jungkook who had rested his arm on his desk and his head in his hand, with this smile on his face you couldn’t quite recognize.

“How do you do it?” He said softly. 

“What?” You laughed, but you were already getting choked up. He had no reason to look at you like that.

“I don’t know how to make time for anything else besides going home and to work. You’re amazing~” He chuckled nervously.

You were too busy however trained on the fact that he called you amazing. “A-Amazing?” You stumbled, your face was burned the more you thought about it.

Jungkook turned to you again when he realized what he had said. “It’s something I’ve always admired about you. You do so much, and you’re always so great with everyone here. Your meeting yesterday for example—” He gushed, and the more he spoke, the faster your heart started pounding in your chest.

“You did so well, and then there’s me. I’m supposed to be the head, yet—” Jungkook sighed and stopped himself knowing where this would go if he kept going. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

You sighed before picking up your wine and motioning over to his empty glass. He chuckled lightly before picking it up and clinking it against your own. You took one for the team and took a sip for you both.       

“Don’t sweat it too much. You’re not so bad yourself.” You smiled at him as you set the glass down. 

He really wasn’t. He still got on your nerves sometimes, but the Jungkook you’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks was almost entirely different from what you expected before you came into your position. He was cute, in a way that made you want to pinch his cheeks, no… that completely wasn’t right. He was cute in a way that made it hard for you to tear your gaze away from him. He was hot if you were being honest, but you didn’t want to admit that, he was married, and you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room as to why he was always so weird with you.

As the candle flickered, you took a moment to admire him, and how his white button-up stretched across his toned body nicely. You’d been trying to be on your best behavior all night, forcing yourself not to peer too closely at the way it fitted across his arms, or how he undid that button, and you could only picture how nice his chest might look the way the buttons seemed to be struggling to keep all that contained. Then there were the newly found tattoos that decorated his arm. You’d always liked tattoos, and you never pictured a big-corpa guy like Jungkook to be tatted. It just made you wonder how many more you couldn’t see… His hands were nice, fingers enhanced with his pretty gold and silver jewelry. Then his face, you might have drank too much, it was only one glass, but you had always loved how he looked at you. He was handsome, his pretty eyes, nose, jawline, and lips that you knew his wife probably went crazy over. Jungkook was hot and maybe in a different timeline… In a different timeline… It was starting to make a little more sense why he was already married.    

Jungkook’s face burned the longer your eyes peered over him. His brain was malfunctioning as he felt your gaze. It just made his already scrambled thoughts drift more to a place he knew they shouldn’t.

He wished he could kiss you.

Interrupting the moment was the sound of your phone buzzing on the desk again. You finally tore your eyes away again to look at your phone. Lo and behold, it was another text, however, it wasn't from Solmi this time; it was Taehyung.    

You opened it and it was a video. You once again didn’t think too much about it as you clicked play.

“Y/n!” Taehyung had tried to yell over the music. It seemed he had made his way to a table and was taking a little break. “You should be here getting drunk with us.” He sighed.

“Solmi abandoned me for this random guy who came up to her while we were dancing.” You giggled at the pout on his face. “You should be here, I’m just going to be third-wheeling the rest of the night.” He sighed. 

You laughed at that. Anytime you all have gone out together, you and Taehyung were usually left behind, while Solmi abandoned you both for her person of interest for the night. You always had fun together, making the most of the fact that a member of your friend group left you for some rando for the rest of the night.  

“I miss youuuuuu. Fuck Jeon Jungkook for making you stay.” He whined, and you could tell the alcohol had really started to have an effect on him. You panicked, feeling Jungkook’s eyes burning into your phone.  

Oh, this really was a bad idea. 

“I might head home soon. We’ve been to I don’t know how many bars, and I’m drunk as shit. If I’m late or you don’t see me at work tomorrow, you know why. Anyway, I miss you and if I’m not there tomorrow, I’ll try and come over if you’re free.” You were hardly processing his words as Jungkook’s gaze burned into you.

“Byeeee…” He waved at the camera. “Solmi says bye too even though she’s not here. I’ll text you later.” The video then clicked off and you were left with the mortifying silence.

You worriedly glanced over at Jungkook. “I’m sorry, he didn’t mean it like—”

Jungkook weakly smiled at you. “It’s fine. I still feel bad for keeping you here.” 

“And I told you it was fine.” You both smiled at each other, but you hurriedly reached for your wine once again, feeling that awkward silence return all too quickly.     

“So, um… how are things going for you dating-wise?” Jungkook suddenly asked out of the blue.

You nearly spit out your wine. “What?!”

He suddenly looked panicked. “I just mean— well, I told you about my marriage, I don’t know, I thought— you know, I wondered how things were going for people my age who aren’t married. I mean— well, no, I was really curious about you too—“ He was rambling.

“Uh, it’s fine.” You were still flustered, but you understood what he was trying to say.

“Are you and Taehyung…?” Jungkook stopped himself, worrying he overstepped with the suggestion.

“Mmm, that’s what everyone around the office seems to think.” You sighed as you leaned back in your chair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“Jungkook, do you think you can keep a secret?” You asked, before he could finish.

“Yeah, I guess so.” But that alone was enough to give Jungkook a bad feeling about your answer. The endearing nickname he heard from Taehyung in the video was pretty much the nail in the coffin. It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t his business, he really didn’t know why he was asking. However, he couldn’t lie and say it hadn’t been on his mind for a while as he watched you from afar over the years. There had always been this suspicion that there had been more going on between you two than just being friends. 

You waited a second, the suspense killing him even though he felt like he knew the answer already. 

“We actually did date.” You answered bluntly.  

The words seemed to linger in the air for a second. You watched as Jungkook’s eyes widened as he seemed to take that in.

“Really?” He sounded surprised, but there was a trembling in his voice that made it seem like the news of the century. The shock hadn’t been real, but he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling that spread throughout his entire body as the words processed in his mind. So, he hadn’t been crazy. He suddenly had the very violent urge to throw up the lunch you had so kindly insisted for him to eat; that, or he could send you away and attempt to water down this feeling with anything he could find in his fridge.

You nodded.

“It was only for a few months, and we never really put a label on it at the time. It was dating in the most casual sense.”

Jungkook was too busy trying his best to ignore the way his heart squeezed, he didn’t even bother paying attention to your use of past tense.

“Again, it was only for a few months— we decided we were better off as friends than anything more at the end of it.”

Did you? Jungkook still saw the way Taehyung looked at you. He wondered how that conversation went. Was it you who made the decision and Taehyung just agreed? Maybe it was him, and Jungkook was wrong. He still didn’t like him.

“We didn’t tell anyone at work, not even Solmi officially; you know how office romances can go. Plus, we knew what people were saying, we didn’t want them to get excited and things didn't work out. But I guess we didn’t do a good job of hiding it.”

Turned out for the better.

“If it’s not too personal, can I ask what made you come to that conclusion?” He really was curious.

You looked around for a second, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to say too much; it’s mainly Taehyung’s business, and I don’t want to reveal anything he wouldn’t want me to, but Taehyung had a lot going on in his life when we started dating. Despite our connection, what he was going through made it hard for us to take things to the next level. It’s kinda hard to describe unless you’ve been in that situation. We had all the basics: we were attracted to each other, he was great company, and we really did mesh well. But the more we crossed into that territory, the more we realized something was missing at that time. It’s like we had all the right ingredients, but never the spark to actually turn it into anything.”

Jungkook didn’t really get the picture. What more did you need in a relationship? What was the “spark?”

He still nodded his head.

“When did this happen?”

“End of last year, slightly going into this one.” You recounted.

Again, that strange feeling of his heart tightening returned. He tried his best to ignore it. However, it wasn’t enough to stop him from asking his next question.

“Would you guys ever get back together? You mentioned he was going through something at the time… would you ever try again?” Jungkook felt his face flush as soon as the words left his mouth. This was probably way too personal. 

You looked noticeably shocked by his question, but maybe you wrote it off as the wine making him a little loose, or perhaps a slightly awkward attempt to keep this conversation going. Part of you considered whether you wanted to answer this question or not, but there was no harm in it really. 

“Um— I guess it’s not impossible. We ended things pretty open ended. Taehyung suggested that maybe we should try again when things finally got better for him, but it’s been months since then. We haven’t spoken about getting together, so I’m not sure. I just assumed he figured we’re better off as friends.” Your words trailed off at the end. 

Jungkook was tempted to ask if you wanted to get back together, but he stopped himself, not really wanting to hear the answer. You probably already thought he was weird.

Some much-needed silence passed for a little while. 

…

Jungkook shifted around in his chair awkwardly, desperately wanting to get the picture of you and Taehyung together out of his mind. He asked the first thing that he could think of, even though it really wasn’t much better. 

“Anything else exciting in the romance department?”

“Not really. Taehyung was probably the most recent. Things have been kinda dry since.” Suddenly, you seemed flustered. “Wait! Not in that way! Well… you know what I mean, right?” 

Now it was Jungkook’s turn to get warm, and he did a horrible job at brushing past the image you put in his head.

“Yeah— oh yeah, I know what you mean.” He spluttered, but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining being buried between your thighs. All of a sudden, his mind was back to that dream again and your pretty sounds as he slid through your warmth.��Would you let him make you feel good? What he would give just for the chance to bring you some type of relief… All he wanted to do was make someone feel good.

But he was Jeon Jungkook. Even if he was in a position where he could, he doubted he would be able to do anything for you. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t do anything right. Nothing.

“What about you?” You suddenly asked to ease the tension in the air. “Has it always been your wife?” You were honestly expecting a sob story that would melt your heart as soon as it began, a nice transition to hopefully get away from the weirdness that had settled into the room.

“I guess you could say that— Yuri and I got married right after I graduated. Besides her, I never really dated anyone. I was so busy throughout high school trying to work on getting into a good college once it was decided I was going to be taking over the company— I thought I would wait and try the whole dating thing in college, but then I got there… things were even worse…” Jungkook trailed off.

“Until you met Yuri?” You piped in, wondering when she came into the story.

The mention of Yuri visibly shocked him. Right, because you and everyone else thought they met while in college— a silly suggestion by their parents that turned into a fiery romance that burned so hard they couldn’t wait to get married. If Jungkook were a better husband, that illusion would be so simple to keep up— it’d be so easy when speaking to people to forget about the contract that was signed along with their marriage license. 

But Jungkook wasn’t a good husband, he was a husband who made his wife feel miserable just by being in his presence, no matter how hard he tried. He was always a failure.

“Jungkook?” You questioned when he wasn’t answering, seemingly lost in thought again.

“Oh yeah! Yeah, then Yuri came into my life. Things were hard, but you know what they say, the worst storms always bloom the best flowers afterward.” Jungkook was lying through his teeth, and he wondered if you could tell. 

Going from college to being married was one shitstorm to the next, and it was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

He knew he must have looked strange at the way you continued to stare at him. But instead of pressing any further, you let the silence fill the air until you both finally got back to work. 

Jungkook typed away on his keyboard, but steadily his mind continued to fill with thoughts that felt like bombs going off in his mind— loud and destructive, the ones he knew would end him one day.

If you weren’t here, he would have downed that wine bottle, maybe a couple of beers too to try and bring the eye of the storm closer. But nothing he did was ever enough. It was never enough, just like he would never be. He was so tired, so tired of every single day being the same. He wanted peace, he wanted a happy marriage, he wanted to be a confident boss who assured everyone that Golden Tech was being handed over to a capable person.

Will the storm ever be over? Would he ever get to see the sunshine again? He was so fed up, and so, so tired. It would be so much easier that way. Nothing was helping anymore, no matter how much he’d drink, no matter how much he’d tell himself to get better, to make things better, that everything wrong with his life was his fault— nothing ever changed, nothing ever helped.

In the middle of the sea with no land in sight, sometimes drowning was your only option. His limbs hurt, he was exhausted from swimming too long, he was so tired, he couldn’t keep his head above the water. The sea underneath him no longer seemed like an angry beast trying to pull him down with all its might, he didn’t want to fight against it anymore, he wanted to relax, to let it embrace him, let it comfort him in a way that no earthly distraction could ever grant him. He wanted peace.

Peace. The quiet. He wanted it, needed it, he—

“Jungkook, do you like me?” Once again, you were here to cut through the darkness. At first, he didn’t even register your question until you quickly tried to backtrack. 

“That’s not what I meant— I… sorry I speak without thinking sometimes.” It seems like it happened all the time tonight, and that was all it took for Jungkook to remember he was here alone with you, and he wanted you bent over his desk.

Jungkook tried his best to ignore the way his cock pleaded for you and let you elaborate. 

“I was nearly finished with my work, and I had wanted to ask you this before I left… this might be a bit inappropriate, but I thought that maybe since we’ve been pretty casual with each other you wouldn’t mind if I asked whether you hated me or not.” You worriedly peered over at him.

Jungkook just stared at you, a little confused, wondering where this was coming from. It was right before you were about to elaborate that he understood. 

“Again, this might be out of line, but ever since my first day here, when I spilled coffee all over your suit, I’ve felt like I had a target on my back.” You were still trying to be professional, so you dumbed it down a little. If you said what you actually thought, you were sure you wouldn’t walk out of here with a job.

“I—I don’t hate you!” He rushed out.

He really didn’t, but you did piss him off, you still did. You pissed him off so much it didn’t make sense. It was confusing to him as well, but what happened with the coffee he knew was at the bottom of the list for his reasons— whatever they were.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m not oblivious; I can see how you treat everyone else on the team versus how you treat me. It’s been like that since my first day.”

It wasn’t a good look.

“I don’t hate you.” He stated a little more firmly this time; he really didn’t. “I will admit we didn’t meet on the best day or under the best circumstances— that just made things awkward from the get-go. But I don’t hate you, Y/n.”

By the look on your face— you still weren’t buying it.

“It’s not you, it’s me, I’m sorry. I have a lot going on in my life, and it seems like you’re often on the receiving end of it. Maybe it was the coffee at first, but I can assure you it’s not because of that.” Jungkook was scrambling, and you were still listening to him.

You already felt a little bad asking him this. Jungkook had a lot going on in his life, that much was obvious. The fact he let you drop the honorifics and gifted you an expensive bottle of wine should be enough proof that he couldn’t possibly hate you.

Unless the clear liquid turned out to be poison, but the fact you were sharing the bottle assured you that shouldn’t be the case. If Jungkook really did hate you, he had a weird way of showing it. But still, even if he didn’t mind your company, he manifested it in the strangest way possible.

“You always complete your work so well too, I can understand that it might be frustrating to you.” Jungkook was still rambling, but that much was true. You were a great employee and someone he could always rely on to get the work done well and on time.

“I’m so sorry.” He finally just pleaded.

You were truly amazing. Everything that he wasn’t.

His anger and frustration were misplaced, he knew that, and it wasn’t fair to you. An actual good boss wouldn't take out his frustrations on his employees, no matter what was going on in his personal life.

It just goes to show how good of a person he is.

“Jungkook, it’s fine. I just wanted to be sure there wasn’t any bad blood between us, especially if we’re going to work a lot more closely from here on out—“  It was then when you finally turned back to him. 

His breath had quickened slightly, he had leaned over his desk, and his hands had tangled into his hair. The long strands blocked his face, but you could tell something was wrong.

You reached a hand out and rested it on his forearm. The minute you did, he finally turned back to face you. Just like on the roof, you saw his eyes, and despite only having the city lights outside and the faint flicker of the candles, you could see the shininess.

It was terrifying, because you were close this time; you could perfectly see the despair that painted his features.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine— we’re almost done, let’s get through this, okay?” He quickly said, returning to typing on his keyboard.

“Jungkook—“ You tried, but he seemed adamant about finishing and getting the work done.

You sighed and followed his lead. You couldn’t ignore the guilt that coursed through your body. Once again, you missed the opportunity.

•────•──────────•────•

The bombs were back once again, and louder than ever it seemed. This happened every time his mind would wander in that direction, and it was almost impossible to turn it off once it started. With you here, it made his usual method of drinking until it stopped impossible unless he wanted to make a fool of himself in front of you. Instead, in order to ensure he wouldn’t lose it, he turned to the only thing he knew would drown the noise in his mind. You— you and that dream he had this morning.

His fingers were fast on the keyboard, but all he could picture as he stared at his screen was the fleeting memory of what it felt like to pound into you.

You on that meeting table, that purple blouse exposing your shoulders, your skirt around your waist, and in, out, in, out, his hips would move into your sopping heat. The drean was so fuzzy, and he hardly had a memory to draw from. It’s been ten months since he last had sex. Ten months of unbearable torture, much like what he experienced this morning.

He’s tried his best to be good to Yuri, assuring her that she was beautiful and telling her he wanted her now and always. Just last week, he had her clinging to their countertop as he was on his knees, pleasing her between her thighs.

It had nearly sent him over the edge untouched. Tears had filled his eyes because he was so sure he’d make another mistake, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her upset. 

He had tried to plead then, but he was too eager and said she had enough for the night. A cold shower had barely stopped him from giving into such disgusting urges, just like earlier today. Now he feared next time he wouldn’t be strong enough. 

If you weren’t right beside him, his hands would probably be in his pants right now. It was horrible, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be an adult and control himself. But that’s what the last ten months of his life had been like— Yuri testing him any chance she could, doing anything and everything to get under his skin. 

Yuri loved to tease him. He loved it too, it was only in those moments when he felt wanted. Didn’t she see how much he wanted her?

As childish as it was, Jungkook wanted to blame her for all this. Why couldn’t she listen? He had told her he wanted a break, a break from anything sexual for a while once he had recovered from pneumonia. It would offer the chance for them to work on and prioritize their relationship— just as he’d discussed with Dr. Min. He begged her to listen, that he would put in the effort so they could spend more quality time together to fill the void. He promised, but that short time she listened was absolutely miserable.

Yuri would wear those tiny shorts more often, and did everything she possibly could to get under his skin. He’d even walked into their room one day to see her using her fingers to do his job. She had forced him to just sit and watch, because it was his dumb idea and he had to pay for it.

It’s just been so long…

You sitting next to him was enough to send him over the edge. You and your short skirt, long legs, and that red lipstick. 

It’s been so long, he wished he could make his dream a reality; he wanted you bent over his desk right now, with your skirt pushed so far up he could watch your ass as he hurriedly pushed into you from behind. You would look so pretty, you always did.

He was desperate at this point, he needed something, anything… 

He had to get out of here. Jungkook wished he could count on Yuri being at the apartment, that she would see what she'd done to him and all would be well again, but he knew she wouldn’t. It’s not like he deserved it either. 

This was his rightful punishment. 

The fact things were so bad, the thought of an affair crossing his mind was sufficient proof that he deserved everything that was happening to him.

Jungkook was hardly paying attention to what he was typing, too focused on trying to stop the tears that were quickly welling up in his eyes and ignoring the way his cock throbbed. 

He was hard, painfully so— in public, and he was right next to you. 

He felt it happen, budget numbers being replaced in his mind with despondency, and how in a haste to escape his darker thoughts, his brain tried to go somewhere a little more buoyant, and instead fixated on the lewdness of what you did to him. That need to feel you, just the thought of feeling you, touching you— for you to need him, he wanted so badly for someone to need him.

This was so embarrassing…

“Alright! I think I’m done on my side~” You celebrated, and it was horrible how when he looked over and saw your bright smile, it just made things worse.

He wanted you. 

It was then that Jungkook realized he’d just been staring at his monitor for a while. It seems he’d been done as well. 

You picked up immediately that something was still off in the look you gave him.

“Uh— uh yeah, me too. We can be done here for tonight. We can meet in the morning and review everything before the meeting later.” Jungkook rushed as he hurriedly shut his computer off.

He needed to get out of here.

He knew his haste shocked you a bit. With his monitor off, a newfound darkness had filled the room, and his speed hurried you to shut off your laptop as well.

Jungkook recorked the wine he was giving you before he tried to get up inconspicuously, turning away from you as much as he could. Even with the darkness in his office, he felt it would be hard to hide what his dirty mind had done to him. 

He couldn’t let you see, he was already so ashamed. 

If you saw this…

His eyes were watery as he shakily got up from his chair. This was so embarrassing…

After you turned your laptop off, you got up too, noticing Jungkook was trying to hurry this up. You didn’t blame him; it was already near one in the morning, but you could still sense something was wrong.

“Jungkook?” You called out as you rested a hand on his shoulder, completely stopping him in his tracks. His eyes glanced down at your hand and then back up at you. You weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes the longer you stared into them. You couldn’t exactly read it; it was similar to what you saw on the roof. 

It made you hot in an instant as you got lost in his dark gaze. You knew you weren’t mistaken this time as you watched him scan over you. The candlelight flickered in between you, illuminating his shiny eyes and how obvious they settled on your lips. It just made you aware how nice his arm felt under your touch, and how alone you both were in the office. This was bad. 

What were you doing? 

“Is everything alright?” You questioned, your voice so meek you wanted to slap yourself. You needed to get it together. 

This causedJungkook to snap out of it as well, finally tearing his eyes away from you. “I— um, I’m fine.” It didn’t sound confident at all, and you noticed. 

You might have questioned it, but you knew you needed to get out of here. 

“Si— Jungkook, I’ll be right back!” You hurried as you started wheeling the chair you stole from Secretary Yu’s desk out the room.

“Alright.” He said weakly as you quickly passed by. 

As soon as the door closed behind you, the tears he had been holding back finally fell down his cheeks. This was just so embarrassing, it hurt so much. He just needed a minute or two alone, that’s all, and he could ease the ache. But that also means giving in, disappointing Yuri more than he already has.

Jungkook quickly wiped his face, scared you might come in any second now, and instead worked on blowing out the candles that were still burning around the room.

The darker it was, the less likely you’d see his shame.

Jungkook made quick work of blowing the candles out around the room, first going to the ones on the little tables, then he came back to where he had placed the most, on his desk.

As much as he wished this was a sufficient distraction, it wasn’t. He was still thinking about you and how much he wished you would be the one to help him, he would take anything at this point.

He was blowing out the last candle when he heard the door open again.

“Woah, you did a lot without me.” You remarked, seeing the room darkened by the candles being out already. And he was glad he worked so fast. One candle and he feared that would have been enough for you to notice what he was hiding.

It was disgusting how badly he wanted you.

“Y-yeah, I don’t want to keep you here later than necessary.” He stuttered and shakily turned around to face you.

Jungkook was nearly blown away seeing how gorgeous you were. The window bathed you in a beautiful glow that was only achievable by the moonlight. You were absolutely stunning, a goddess, a temptress pulling him in to commit the most horrible acts; and it was working.

Your heels steadily clicked as you walked, your red-stained lips that were turned up into a warm smile lured him even further into temptation, all the while your twinkling eyes peered over his quivering body.

He wanted you so badly…

The sweet perfume you were wearing just made the tears in his eyes grow even heavier, you smelled really good. He would do anything to relieve this ache. The desire was mind numbing at this point.

Jungkook hardly noticed both of your jackets and the scarf he’d worn were in your hands.

You handed him his jacket with a weak smile. It took him a minute to realize what you were doing, too busy staring into your shimmering orbs that would always have him choked up anytime he tried to speak to you.

“Jungkook?” You called out worriedly.

“U-uh I-I’m sorry.” He tried to laugh it off as he grabbed it, but he failed miserably, and it sounded more like a choked sob. He was hoping you’d brush it off as he quickly put on his black, fuzzy trench coat, but he knew it was too late in the way his vision grew blurry from tears. The dam had been broken and he just couldn’t stop it anymore.

You were still holding his scarf when he finally looked back up at you, and the look of concern in your face was unmistakable. You could see his despair.

“Jungkook…” Your voice was so soft and warm, like a flame lit in the dead of night. You reached up to drape the scarf across his shoulders, but your eyes were still locked into his, like you were staring right through his soul and could easily see everything.

Standing so close, you could see the pain hidden behind the starry way his eyes would shine, you could feel the hurt— they were just like Mi-Sun’s. Your hand lingered on his shoulders, before you finally found the confidence to reach your hand up and ever so gently cup his cheek.

Like on instinct, he couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling further into your warmth, a flicker of light in the frozen tundra he had become. It was an overwhelming affection he had never known, and while you may have just done it because of how pathetic he looked, it was something. He closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the taste of the haven he’d been craving for years.

“Jungkook, are you ok?” You finally asked earnestly because he genuinely looked like he was about to break. 

Jimin had been the only person to ever ask him that. He thought he’d been doing well at hiding from everyone the storm that raged on in his mind, but hearing you could clearly see something was wrong…

It felt real, too real.

You looked so worried, and as he felt your hand on his cheek, he just broke down.

Jungkook shook his head as tears easily slipped past his eyes and trickled down your hand. 

He wasn’t fine, he was the furthest from fine. Sometimes he wished the earth would swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to wake up and feel like this every single day. He hadn’t been fine in years, and the weight of it all came crashing down at that very moment. He could tell you were about to question him further, but he didn’t give you the chance as his hand slowly came up and snaked around your waist to pull you close.

Jungkook didn’t know what he was doing, this was wrong on so many levels and went against everything he stood for, but in the moment he didn’t think, he just wanted to stop the pain. 

That warmth, he needed you.

Jungkook pulled you so close, closer than you both stood earlier in the hallway on the roof, you could probably feel the shame he was trying to hide.

Time stood still for a second as he stared down at your red-stained lips, the bright color like a lighthouse for a desperate sailor in the middle of a storm. You were the refuge he needed, and right now, he didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you.

Jungkook leaned forward so he could rest his head in the crook of your neck and bathed in the sweet scent of your perfume. He was so worthless that even just that seemed to make the ache worse.

He felt your arms wrap around his waist and you pulled him a little closer. The movement was slight, but it created just enough friction for a soft, unmistakable moan to escape his lips.

You could certainly feel it now.  

Jungkook felt like his skin was on fire, only moments away from boiling over, and you were the only one who could fix this. 

He lifted his head slowly, his face still wet with the tears that continuously spilled from his sad eyes. The hand that had been on your waist quickly trailed up your side to settle on your jawline, his thumb so gently grazed across your cheek.

You were dangerously close, he’d never experienced a need to this degree. He needed you, he wanted you so badly he wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

“Please— I need— can we…” You probably could barely hear him, his voice hoarse from the strain and he was shaking so much. 

But it seemed he didn’t need to elaborate; you knew what he wanted. Your hand came up from his waist to grab his shoulders to pull him closer, making his lips not even centimeters from yours.

Jungkook lost it. He couldn’t stop himself as he finally closed the distance. His lips were on yours in a haste, but he was slow and gentle as you both tried to process the fact this was happening. 

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he tasted the sweetness of the wine you both drank only moments before. Your lips were so soft, pillowy, and inviting. He could feel the soft tickle of your breath beneath his nose, gently pulling you close, as you breathed each other in.

The world around him seemed to disappear at that moment. He forgot about Yuri, he forgot about his marriage, he forgot how shitty he’s been feeling, he forgot about the contract, he forgot who he was. Right now, he wasn’t the future CEO of the second-biggest tech provider in the country— he was just Jeon Jungkook.

Nothing else mattered in the moment. It was just you, him, and ten months' worth of bottled-up lust.

His touch was hesitant at first, like he was so sure any moment you might change your mind. He thought you would, he was sure you would, that you would realize what he was doing, and your appalled reaction would be enough to finally wake him up and make him register what he’d just done. His brain was shot, but he remembered what this was usually like, waiting for the moment when you would say something, yell, scream, complain that he wasn’t good enough. He didn’t think he was, but that just made him more desperate. He wanted to prove himself.

But you never stopped him as his hands steadily grew more fervent, tugging at your white button-up and traveling down your sides to grab and touch as much as he could, settling just above the curve of your ass. The kiss quickly grew more heated, from slow, sensual pecks, to you both were practically trying to eat each other, building the ever-growing heat that settled between you two. It wasn’t a slow flame that steadily spread, but an explosion of lust that violently consumed everything in its path. 

Your hands grew curious, playing with the button-up he had tucked into his black slacks, and occasionally pressing down into the belt wrapped around his waist.

The sensation made Jungkook’s knees almost give out entirely. He fell back slightly onto his desk that sat behind him, breaking the kiss for just a second.

The moment was brief, but Jungkook used it as the perfect opportunity to finally let his hands slip under your skirt. He gripped your ass, enjoying the way the soft skin felt in his grasp way too much.

Fuck.

Jungkook didn’t know how it happened; all he could remember was hearing you gasp as he suddenly flipped you both around and had you pinned against his desk. He didn’t give you any time to process what was happening, because his lips were back on yours with even more ferocity. He just had to feel you. 

It hurt so much.

Jungkook could hardly help you up, the kiss grew more intense, and all he heard was the sound of anything in the way being forcefully pushed back— some things clattering to the ground, your heels even falling off in the commotion. But he couldn’t care less, not with the way you were clinging onto him as desperately as he needed to feel you.

It was messy, so fucking messy as he kissed you with all the pent-up lust that’s been building since you walked into him with your coffee. Your teeth clinked together more often than not. Jungkook was kissing you so hard, at some point he was so sure he was going to actually climb inside you.

But it felt so good.

Your legs hastily came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his needy self to where he wanted to be so fucking badly. The moan he let out was embarrassing; it was more like a whimper in all honesty, but he couldn’t stop thinking about this morning and all the dreams he had of being in this exact position.

His hips eagerly chased yours, desperate, so fucking embarrassingly desperate for any type of friction.

Everything was happening so fast, and still, the tears didn’t stop pouring out of his eyes. It was so sad, Jungkook couldn’t even kiss you anymore. The moment his aching cock felt your clothed heat against his, kissing you proved impossible. 

His mind felt like the most chaotic storm; he felt drunk not off the wine you shared, but of you, and he wanted so much more.

“Oh—“ You cried.

Just a few glides of his hips and he had you making such pretty sounds, even better than what he remembered from his dream. He only got greedier, and his pace increased too much.

He was going to cum.

“F-fuuu-uck” he tried to hold it back, but it just came out as something in between a moan and a sob. 

“It’s ok…” Your voice was soft and gentle as you tried to get him to look at you again. His eyes were so pretty, you wanted to see them again.

“I need you so bad.” Jungkook cried into the crook of your neck.

It hurt so much. He wanted to cum, any longer, and he was sure this was going to turn into a horrible disaster. He was so tempted to keep going just like this, to rock into you until he came in his pants like he was sure to at any moment.

“You can— have me— it’s alright.” Your voice was so soothing, but hicked when his hips came to meet yours in a haste. Your hand came up to run through his long hair. 

The affection was new, something he hadn’t experienced before, which made things so much worse.

It physically pained him to pull away, even for just a second, as he moved over and straddled your thigh— that wasn’t his intention, but your thigh was right there as he worked to change the position, and he needed to feel anything to ease the ache.

On instinct, your thigh raised up, and he could have cried— he was crying. He hadn’t stopped crying since you walked in— it just felt so good. His brain was scrambled, but he couldn’t— he wouldn’t allow himself to cum until he was inside you. He wanted to be selfish. He needed you.

Jungkook grabbed your chin so you would look up at him. He took a second to admire your delicate features; you were absolutely stunning, and he hated it. To drown out the agony, he kissed you lightly before moving to your cheek and he trailed down to your neck.

“Jungkook…” His name fell so prettily from your lips as your arm wrapped around his neck.

For a split second, Jungkook thought about Taehyung— he wondered if while you were together he got to see you like this, if you moaned his name so beautifully. It was only for a second, but it was enough to get him to suck a little harder on your skin, so that it would leave a mark.

He hoped it would.

“Don’t stop—” You whined. 

Jungkook let his hand travel down your body, stopping when he felt the buttons of your shirt. He needed this shit off now.

Using what very little brain power he had left, he tried to focus on getting the buttons undone, but it proved to be an impossible task. He was only using one hand, and Jungkook was more than distracted with painting your neck and enjoying the subtle pleasure of rubbing himself along your thigh.

Frustrated, Jungkook did the only thing his horny brain could think of at that moment, and pulled the fabric until the buttons snapped. For a second, he hoped he didn’t break any of them, but the worry quickly went away as he noticed the newly exposed skin and the pretty black bra you were wearing. His hands were eager and massaged your mounds with need. He was almost hypnotized as the moonlight outside painted your body and the feel of your soft skin in his hands.

The ache just got worse when he heard the soft sighs of pleasure fall from your red-stained lips. It delighted him too much seeing how it was smeared across your face. 

He hoped you weren’t too disappointed when he pulled away, but he hastily pulled up your skirt so it was bunched around your waist, just like it had been in his dream. The sight was even more bewitching than he imagined when he noticed what you were wearing.

Jungkook had too many fantasies where he would rip your stockings off to fuck you, but unlike what he’d pictured, you weren’t wearing stockings like he had expected, but the black sheer that covered your legs were thigh highs.

He just stared for a second because the wave of need that washed over him, didn’t make any sense at all. 

He whimpered as the picture started to become clearer, the sheer fabric coming up your legs to the lacy ends, your skirt bunched around your waist, and the black panties he could now see covering your core. It was hot; you were so hot, and he wanted to ruin you.

Suddenly, you grabbed his hand that was resting on your thigh. He looked into your eyes and could see the concern behind your gaze.

“You’re shaking…” You whispered so gently.

Jungkook looked down at his hand, and indeed he was.

Why? He didn’t know, and he didn’t really care at that moment. Jungkook did what he wanted to for so long, instead of answering, he shut you up with a kiss. Sometimes, you really did talk too much. No more talking; he couldn’t even think straight anymore to form an actual sentence. Instead, he used what little brain power he had left and let his hand slide up your thigh to hover right over your panties.

Jungkook barely touched you, but you were already bucking into his hand, like you were just begging for more. The arm you had wrapped around his neck tightened to pull him closer.

“Jungkook, please, please touch me.” You looked him directly in the eyes as you broke the kiss. 

He’d never heard those words before, and he knew from that point on that they should be illegal in how much they affected him. He wanted to please you—

Jungkook didn’t waste anymore time, and let his fingers brush over your clothed heat. He nearly lost his mind feeling the fabric damp already.

Did he do that?

“Please…” You whined, and Jungkook nearly broke after seeing the look on your face seemingly growing more frustrated.

He loved it too much.

Jungkook pressed into you a little harder, the fabric growing wetter by the second, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you. You clung onto him tighter when he pushed your panties to the side, finally letting his fingers run through your soaked folds. You cried out, and he almost did too when your pretty whines grew more desperate.

His fingers stopped once they reached your clit, rubbing tiny circles across the bud. Jungkook’s heart nearly beat out of his chest at your reaction, the way you shook and moaned underneath him, and he reveled in your pleas for more.

It just made him more eager once his fingers came down to your pleading hole, slowly pushing the digits inside you. 

The ache was unbearable now.

You cried out for him, it was his name that fell from your lips, and he couldn’t stop imagining it was his cock instead as he pushed in further. 

He wished it was.

You felt so good, so warm, so tight, and he still couldn’t get over how wet you were. He could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as they pumped inside you, just imagining this was his cock alone could have made him cum.

And so could you, the suddenness of everything had your body on high alert, every new sensation, so unexpected you couldn’t keep up. It was all too much, his body on yours, his fingers inside of you, his pained whimpers as he steadily rubbed himself along your thigh.

Too much, yet you wanted more, you wanted so much more. You wanted to make him feel good too, so good that he wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“Jungkook, please.” You cried, pulling him close. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, but you relished in the sensation, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. Even in that moment, you couldn’t stop focusing on how wet his cheeks were and the feeling of more tears trickling down onto you.

You wanted him to be ok.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, pulling away slightly; he sped up his pace, enjoying the slick sounds of his fingers moving inside you and your pleading reaction way too much.

You cried and moaned so easily for him, like you both weren’t in his office right now, like you weren’t getting fingerfucked on his desk. It was dirty, and he hated how much he loved this.

“Does this feel good?” His raspy whisper right into your ear just made it all worse.

And it was all too much, he wanted to be inside you so badly, and he knew that if he waited any longer, he wouldn’t make it. 

“Yes, yes— fuck, yes!” You answered, clinging onto him just a little tighter.

He was already so close. Pathetic, so fucking pathetic.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook finally found the strength to pull his fingers out of you. What he would have given to see you fall apart on his fingers, but not when he felt like he was seconds away from combusting. He had to hurry this up.

You whined at how empty you felt all of a sudden and were about to question it, maybe even scream because you were getting so close, but the moment of clarity let you feel his shaky hand on your thigh as he sank to his knees.

You looked at him confused as to what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for you to get the picture as he started spreading your thighs once again.

You pulled on his hair lightly, making him look up at you with his big, bright, bewildered, round eyes. You felt your body light a blaze at the sight, so innocent in such a dirty position.

“No time. Want you inside me.” It was blunt, but the moment didn’t allow for anything more. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to still seem confused. 

“You— you don’t need me to—“ His voice was just as shaky as his hands were. He genuinely seemed confused.

“Just fuck me, please.” You whined, your hand coming down to rest under his chin. His eyes were red and watery, and you just hated it. You’d do anything to see him better.

Jungkook steadily rose to his feet once again, but that brief moment of pause was short-lived, as he was on you in a haste, lips on lips, needing, chasing, he had to feel you.

Jungkook had been so worried, so worried he’d disappoint you, he’d nearly burst into tears when he got on his knees knowing he couldn’t eat you out without making a mistake. Then you said it, just like Yuri did after she came back from that New Year’s party. You wanted him, needing him to make you feel good. “Just fuck me, please.” He’d never forget it, to the point it was replaying in his head even now, as he tried his best to make that one thing happen.

He just had to last a little longer. 

Jungkook scrambled, trying to feel you, kiss you, and get his belt loose. It was all too much, why he ever decided to wear belts in the first place was beyond him at the moment. So little was in the way, he had your permission, and all that stood in between what he wanted were a few thin layers of fabric.

He desperately rubbed himself against you, needing the friction as he kissed you, fuck, why wasn’t he inside you yet?!

Then your hands eagerly raked across his back, trying to pull him close. Yuri had never done that to him, and it was too much, too much when he’s not inside you yet. Jungkook tried again to get his belt off, but he couldn’t think anymore and was growing more desperate by the second, your hands, fuck he was so close. 

Tears spilled out of his eyes, so worried he was about to embarrass himself when he was so close, but then you swooped in to save the day.

You broke the kiss when you noticed he was struggling a bit, and decided to help.  

He looked so pretty like this, the moonlight highlighting all of his delicate features, his eyes sparkling so sadly in the light. He looked sad, so sad that if you made one wrong move, he’d burst into tears. What could possibly be making him feel this way?

Your hands ran up his back, over his shoulders, and down to the buttons of his shirt. You didn’t miss the way he shivered, his eyes fluttered closed, and his grip on your thigh grew tighter as you went past his neck. 

Your hands were a little shaky, but you managed to undo them all. As more was revealed, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of Jungkook being absolutely built. You had a feeling he worked out, but the sight of his firm chest, then his defined abs was one shock after another. 

It was bad how much you needed him.

It was lucky you were so distracted that you entirely missed how red Jungkook’s face had become under your gaze. He was scared, scared of you seeing him like this and thinking he was just as pathetic as Yuri says. What if you hated—

With his shirt undone, you slowly ran your hands over his warm skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Down his nape, chest, abs, and then eventually settling on his belt. 

Jungkook tried his best not to rut into you like some animal, but he had never been touched like this before, and he feared he was seconds away from exploding because of how good it felt. 

Taking him out of his spiraling thoughts, you hurriedly tugged on his belt, finally getting it undone so you could unfasten his pants.

His eyes were watery once again, feeling your hands graze past the prominent outline in his slacks. 

“P-Please!” He cried because it hurt so much, and he just wanted to feel you. His voice was hoarse, sounding more like a pained sob than anything coherent, but he needed anything at this point. 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You whispered right in his ear as you finally freed his aching length. 

Jungkook didn’t know what he was expecting, just enough help so he could finally push himself inside you, but then you didn’t let go. It didn’t fully register until you stared directly into his watery eyes and started dragging your hand slowly up his length. Jungkook could have screamed, he really wanted to, and would have if his voice wasn’t so hoarse. Maybe he was and he didn’t even realize it.

As you reached the tip, you focused all your attention on massaging the head, wanting to get a reaction out of him. You were pleasantly surprised as your thumb ran over the tip, the amount of pre-cum that seemed to just leak onto your fingers…

“Oh god.” He groaned, his voice was so shaky as he writhed in your grasp. He quickly had to shut his eyes, the pleasure was too much.

“Does this feel good?” Your voice was gentle once again, and Jungkook felt like he was moments away from blowing it. A strangled moan he couldn’t hold back left his lips.  

He couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening. Your hand was…? You were touching him? It was strange, horrible even, that for a moment he thought about Yuri, back in April when he practically begged her to touch him, just like this. He had begged her, but with you, he didn’t even need to ask. 

It was awful, so fucking horrific, but your hand was too much to handle as you went from running your fingers over the tip to steadily pumping his cock. Jungkook immediately knew he should have said something; each glide of your hand sent him closer to an edge he was practically hanging off of already, but fuck. This was pathetic, absolutely pathetic.

Jungkook whined as he buried himself into your shoulder and pushed you further into the desk. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something, to stop you. It would have been so easy. He knew deep down he didn’t want to. He moaned as he subtly rocked his hips into your grasp, he thought of this morning, how easily Yuri stopped, and the thought of having that taken away again.

He should have said something, he didn’t need to see your face to know you weren’t expecting this to go as far as it did. 

You’d only wanted to tease him a little before he finally filled you up, but maybe you should have realized how close he was. You certainly weren’t expecting his hoarse moans to grow louder and pained. 

His grip on your thighs quickly tightened, and suddenly, with a very pained cry, you felt wetness across your fingers. 

A colossal wave of pleasure hit him all at once with a strangled cry, a feeling he hadn’t felt after nearly a year. It was more than ecstasy, a high he never wanted to end, the most he’d felt in months. For a second, his life wasn’t a mess. He was happy, and everything was fine. It was overwhelming, and his knees nearly gave out entirely as you started gently pumping his length to help work his way through his high. 

It was a terrible mix of the pleasure he’d craved for months, and the guilt of being the failure he knew he was. Months of waiting, and he couldn’t at least make it inside you. It was embarrassing, pathetic, and not to mention as the ropes continued to come with each flick of your wrist, deep down he knew he truly had made a loathsome mistake because it just wouldn’t stop.

But it felt so good, it seemed never ending as each glide from your hand brought more euphoria than his brain ever thought was possible to experience. Yet the searing guilt that simmered behind the pleasure made his mangled moans turn into sobs. He was bawling in your arms, his tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. 

Your free hand gently rubbed his back to try and soothe him. He was shaking.

“I—I’m so sorry— so sorry.” Jungkook choked out. He clung to you a little tighter and buried himself further into your neck. He didn’t want to see the disappointed look on your face, he wouldn’t be able to bare it—

“Jungkook, it’s ok…” You tried to comfort him, feeling yourself getting a little emotional.

Your reassurance meant nothing, if anything it just made him more upset; he hated pity. This was a mistake, he was so disappointing, that’s all he ever did was make people disappointed. 

You seemed to notice your words didn’t do anything, so you pulled him out of your neck so he could look at you.

But instead of meeting your eyes, he immediately moved far back enough to see the scene of the crime. You were practically covered in his cum, your hand that had been grasping his length was coated in it, and your shirt and skirt were ruined with his mess. Ten months of shame and he’d covered you in it. 

Jungkook’s face burned at the sight.

His gaze finally pulled away to look into your eyes. Even in the darkness, you could see how wet and red his face was, but the tears never stopped as the guilt and embarrassment continued to take over him.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t—“ He tried to feign, but he was lying right through his teeth. He could have told you to stop sooner, but he didn’t want to; he had just been so close. 

Your sympathetic eyes just made things worse as you continued to look at him. 

“I wanted to—“ He wanted to fuck you, that much was true. As nice as your hand felt, he wanted more, so much more. To think he could have been buried deep inside you if he hadn't given in so quickly. 

“Jungkook, it’s ok, don’t worry about it.” You tried to reassure him, but with the haze of his orgasm fading, reality began to hit him at full force. 

He ruined your clothes, and he literally came all over you like a fucking teenager. How much more embarrassing could he be?!

“I can replace them if you want.” He sniffled out, but he felr like could barely understand him through his sobs. 

“It’s ok, I’m serious.” Your slight smile gave him more sympathy than he deserved. 

You turned around and noticed the tissue box beside you. You let him go, making a slight whine escape his lips as you did so, and you grabbed a tissue to start cleaning yourself up. 

…

To make matters worse, if he couldn’t get any more despicable, the lack of contact made a horrible realization dawn upon him. 

He still wanted more. Instead of the guilt from his actions, the burn raged on, a little tamer this time, but it was still there sizzling, waiting to erupt once again at any moment.

You finally looked up, noticing his apologies had become too quiet and his hands had begun to steadily run over your waist again. You hoped this meant Jungkook realized everything was alright and that there were no hard feelings, but you were a little shocked to see his dazed gaze staring directly down at your opened-up shirt that had your black bra still exposed. 

There was a hunger in his eyes you recognized from earlier. Hmmmm…

You put the tissue down before you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close. You were delighted at the sound of his gasp as he was tugged flush against your chest. You kissed his neck, before you moved back up to trail kisses along his jaw up to his ear. His grip on your thigh grew tighter with each move you made.

“Did you want to keep going?” Your voice was soft as you felt him shiver in your grasp.

“We—we don’t have to!” His voice was a lot louder than yours, like he was trying to defend himself from being led into a trap, but you felt his grip tighten around your waist.

The number of times he’d begged Yuri for a second chance anytime he came too quickly, he couldn’t believe this was real. This had to be a trap, you were trying to embarrass him, weren’t you? You wanted to ruin him. 

“You think you’re up for it?” You asked once again, your tone dropping to an octave that made his whole body shiver. 

If only you knew he could keep it up the whole night. Jungkook couldn’t say anything, he almost didn’t want to; at any moment, he thought you would take it back.

“You don’t know what you’re doing…” He whispered, lightly rubbing his cheek against yours. You were unlocking a part of himself he was scared to face. He didn’t think he could come back from this.

“I do… don’t worry.” Your tone was low as your teeth grazed across his ear. A moan fell from his lips before he could stop it. He felt like an animal as his mind thought about all the things he wanted to do to you. Instead of the degradation he’d expect from Yuri, his silence was rewarded with you wrapping your hand around his semi-hard length and pumping him once again ever so gently, careful not to overstimulate him too much. 

Jungkook could have screamed; his voice was too hoarse, but a guttural moan escaped his lips before he could even realize it. He couldn’t believe it; he had to be dreaming. But dream or not, that didn’t stop his softening length from beginning to grow hard once again in your grasp. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you.

“Please…” It was a sad, desperate plea. He just had to feel you once tonight.

This time, you didn’t hesitate to spread your legs for him, using one hand to pull your panties to the side and the other to rub him through your folds. You were absolutely soaked. A whine fell from both your lips as Jungkook resisted every urge to fuck into you. 

He could probably cum just from this again if you kept this up.

You didn’t tease him for long, seeing his expression growing increasingly impatient. You couldn’t wait any longer either, as you took it upon yourself to guide his tip to your dripping hole. 

You sighed in relief as Jungkook finally took control and slowly sank himself further into you. The more you took, the more you could have screamed, the fit filling you up in all the right places.

How much you wanted him to just destroy you…

Jungkook wanted to do just that, but the sweet sting of overstimulation made his worked-up length that much more sensitive to a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. His eyes stung from the tears, and he felt drunk off the warmth of your walls wrapping around him, almost pleading to milk him of anything he had left. 

Too fast, and he knew you’d do just that.

He waited, as much as his body didn’t want to, but he wanted to try and make things right this time. He wanted to make you feel good too.

Soft sighs of pleasure escaped you, but you still tried to focus your mouth on his neck— gently sucking on a spot where he quickly found out was surprisingly sensitive. 

“Fuck…” He groaned. This was all new to him, and he wanted more.

“Y/n… can I move?” Jungkook rushed out. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind.

“Please…” You begged, just as desperate. 

Your plea was all he needed for him to slowly pull his hips out before shakily pushing back in. An embarrassing series of whines left his mouth in the process, not at all thinking about how loud he was anymore.

Tears spilled out of his eyes as the slick sounds started to fill his office. It was overwhelming in the best way possible. This was worse than his first time, he felt like a virgin all over again as he moved through your sopping heat, he wasn’t going to last long at all. 

Jungkook immediately had to focus on not cumming again, feeling the edge approaching so quickly, but he had to make you feel good this time.

His pace was a little awkward at first; he was too eager at times to feel you, making him fumble his rhythm, but he was quick at getting back in the groove of things. 

“Jungkook—“ You moaned out, your legs wrapping around his waist so he wouldn’t go far. You just needed him close, as close as he could get.

Fuck, how long has it been? Were you really this desperate? 

You clung onto him tightly, hearing his pretty whines with each glide of his hips. 

If you thought about it too much right now, you might come back down to the reality of the consequences of your actions. Weren’t you both about to leave just moments ago? But you didn’t think about it, you honestly couldn’t think about it as his cock glided past that spot that made you see stars. 

Fuck.

You both reveled in the pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin and the subtle sounds of the creaking of his desk anytime he’d push inside you. Random objects would get knocked off occasionally as he pushed you further onto the desk, but neither of you cared, too focused on chasing a high that was quickly approaching.

Your hand ran through his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation, while the other was down his back, your manicured nails dragging across the white fabric that you knew would probably leave a mark. 

Your moans nearly drowned out his own,, but you both seemingly didn’t care about the fact that you were in public. 

Jungkook’s mind was filled with nothing but white-hot need, your hands on his body, it had never been like this, it had never felt like this. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself except fuck into you as quickly as his body would let him, any second spent apart was too long, needing to stay buried in your warmth.

You were fucking touching him— someone— touch— fuck.

“C-c-close!” Jungkook rushed out suddenly. He hurriedly wrapped his arm around your back and lifted your thigh so he could fuck into you even deeper. He just couldn’t get enough. Why did this feel so good?!

Jungkook wanted to delay it as much as he could so you would feel good too, but then your lips were on his neck and suddenly he had no self-control.

Still so sensitive from his last orgasm, fresh tears spilled from his eyes as he felt himself speeding toward the edge.

“Can I—“ He wanted to ask for permission, but at this point, he feared a no wouldn’t even be enough. 

“It’s okay… let go for me.” Your voice, always so sweet as you focused on running your fingers through his hair. It felt so good, so good that he wanted to cry right there in your arms. He could have, if that feeling hadn’t finally spilled over into another embarrassing whine.

“I’m sorry— so sorry, sorry, I’m—“

His rhythm turned frantic, then got sloppy, chasing, and chasing, till he buried his face in your shoulder as he came again, ropes and ropes of cum filling you up. It was hard to believe he came just minutes ago.

He sounded like he was crying again, maybe he was, but the pleasure overtook any realization of his surroundings. Jungkook’s moans turned silent, his voice too hoarse for anything louder. He wanted to scream, just wave after wave of pleasure hit him as he steadily thrusted into you. You were so nice, you always were, as you gently kissed his neck and rubbed his back.

You knew he needed it, you could feel the tears across your neck and the way he lightly shook in your arms. 

It had never been that intense before; a full minute passed and he was still getting hit with the shakes as another wave would hit. 

It was so good, so good, but he wasn’t satisfied just yet. 

Jungkook eventually found the strength to pull himself slightly away from your shoulder. Your kind eyes looked at him with so much concern, that he hardly gave you any time to process before he was kissing you again. It was a slow, sensual kiss, and his hand came up to cup your cheek so that he could have you just a little closer. A brief moment of calm, a second to settle your beating hearts.

It was at that moment, without you noticing, Jungkook slid his hand in between your bodies. You didn’t realize it until you felt his fingers on your clit, earning an immediate gasp out of you. Jungkook hummed lightly before kissing down your neck. 

You were so sensitive and so close already… 

“Cum for me…” Jungkook whispered across your skin. 

You will, you wanted to so badly.

“Jungkook—“

His fingers quickly picked up the pace, and you cried out for him. Jungkook could feel you tightening around his cock, spent, but greedy for more, as he started slowly thrusting into you once more. 

He groaned. You felt so good— it just didn’t make sense.

This was about you though, and he had to make you feel just as good as you had made him. Jungkook relished in the way you clung onto him as your orgasm grew nearer. You were so close, he could feel it. 

His fingers were skilled, so skilled you hardly had time to process before you came face to face with the edge you craved more than anything at that moment. 

“Please— please, fuck, fuck, please!” You cried, and Jungkook nearly did too at how tightly you were squeezing him. Overstimulation, two orgasms, and the pain mixed with pleasure, had him speeding to his third. But this was all about you, and he pulled away to watch your expression as you fell apart.

Jungkook almost didn’t feel worthy as he watched your eyes roll back, and your moans and pleas turned into one big sigh of relief as your orgasm washed over you. You gripped him hard, and you had him crying out with you, cumming for the third time today.

It probably was a little over a minute since his last one, and he didn’t have much to give, but you made sure to milk him of everything he had left, and he loved it.

You, this, everything, it was so good. 

Jungkook, through the haziness of it all, helped you both through it, his hips steadily rocking into you, and his fingers still at work until you whined at the overstimulation.

Jungkook quickly pulled you in for another kiss. It was lazy, you both were exhausted at this point, but Jungkook craved the affection more than ever as the rush, the heat, burn, and desire started to settle down. All that was left in its wake was the startling realization of what you both had just done. 

The wetness began to pool in between you, his body ached, the guilt was beginning to wash over him, and the treacherous reality he ran from was back.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook eventually found the strength to pull out of you. It hurt physically speaking, but it was even worse mentally. He didn’t want to leave, not with how warm and wet you were around him. It took everything in him to slowly but surely leave your warm embrace, a pained whine falling from his lips, before he took a step back. 

Your hooded eyes stared at him as you breathed heavily. He was probably doing the same, but he could hardly pay attention as he stared at his mess: 

Your lipstick was heavily smeared, your hair disheveled, your legs still spread with your skirt bunched up around your waist, your stockings had runs all over them, and your panties he’d pulled to the side were back in place but soaked with a mix of both of your juices.

Jungkook wanted to feel ashamed; he should, he had ruined you, but your fucked out expression only made a startling realization come over him. He liked seeing you like this, and it made the flame that had started to quell, spark once again.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right. 

Jungkook should feel guilty right now. Not only had he ruined his marriage, you were also now caught up in his mess. Instead, all that resided as you both calmed down, was a startling numbness. 

He should feel guilty, but it was so fucking horrible how much he enjoyed it. This was a relief Jungkook had never known could come from sex. He was spent, exhausted, yet craved more all at the same time. 

But he really did feel bad, seeing you like this, and Yuri… however, that’s not what his mind could focus on. As horrible as it was, he felt… good.

Jungkook gently helped you off his desk. Your knees were a little wobbly, but he held onto you tightly as he guided you over to the couch. 

You silently thanked him and watched as he went to grab your coat and shoes, which had dropped to the floor during the commotion. As soon as he handed it to you, he then kindly went over to pack up your laptop for you and grab the bottle of wine.

It was sweet, too sweet almost, considering what the fuck just happened.

You and Jungkook… you and Jungkook?

This was the same Jungkook you hated until about a month ago. This was the same Jungkook who had made your life at work hell for nearly two years. This was the same Jungkook that was married. 

You started to put on your stuff, Jungkook picked up all things that had fallen off his desk, before he had his own coat and scarf in hand, and he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. You were quickly reminded how you found yourself in this situation as he practically collapsed. A pained sigh left his lips and his hands were tangled in his hair once again. 

You quickly scooted over. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” Jungkook cried, his sad eyes only looking at you for a second before his hair was in the way again. 

This… this is precisely why. Something about the look in his eyes, the pain in his voice, it was too much, and you wanted to do anything to fix that. 

You let your arm wrap around him. “You want to talk about it?” Your voice, soft and gentle as always. 

Jungkook didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly do at this point? It was really hitting him. He had done it, he truly had lost it.

His panic started getting to you as well, and you were realizing the mess you had just got yourself into. As concerned as you felt for Jungkook, you now were involved in an affair. His wife’s pictures that sat around his office felt like they were bearing into you, judging you for sleeping with her husband. How could you? Not only that, but this happened with your boss, at your job, who was fucking married.

The reason this happened in the first place was unknown, but what justification could there be for both of you? 

Jungkook tried his best to pull himself together as you both got up to begin your journey downstairs, but how could he go home now?

You both made a quick stop to the bathroom to clean yourselves up. 

You could hardly believe the sight you saw in the mirror. You finally saw the glorious mess Jungkook had made of you, your cheeks warmed at the sight the fluorescent lights granted you. You were a mess…

You tried to quickly cover up the evidence of your misdeed. You wiped your shirt and skirt so the stains wouldn’t be so noticeable, and with the brush you kept in your purse, you tried to smooth your hair down and style it so that it covered the marks across your neck. You then tried to make your clothes sit the way they did before you walked into his office earlier, tucking your top in and smoothing out your skirt.

You wiped down your face, and with a quick reapplication of your makeup, you were as good as new again— well, as new as you needed to be at nearly 1:30 in the morning.

Despite having more to do, you were left waiting outside the bathrooms on Jungkook for a little while. 

He’d walked in and the sight he saw in the mirror was equally as alluring as it was horrendous. His face was red and puffy, and his hair was sticking up in every direction. But the way your lipstick covered his face… his lips were smeared with it, just like yours had been. It was all over his cheeks, even his neck had red stains, and seeing that had him feeling funny all over again.

Jungkook was ashamed that he looked past it all, and enjoyed the way your lipstick painted his skin.

He nearly had another breakdown at the realization, and he had to give himself a pep talk to come out of the bathroom and face you again. His thoughts were quickly spiraling, and he felt himself getting jittery again. It was the same way he felt in Dr. Min’s office, the same way that would plague him occasionally, and he was stuck alone for hours trying to get himself together to face the world again. He probably would have collapsed and locked himself in the bathroom if you weren’t waiting on him.

He likely came out looking worse than he did coming in. Your lipstick was gone, but he had been stuck inside trying to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling from his eyes.

Eventually, you both made your way to the elevators.

Jungkook had offered to drive you home considering how late it was. You probably would have said no considering the situation, but you didn’t really think about how you would get home beforehand. You honestly didn’t think you’d be here this long, but you also knew Taehyung would have no issue coming to pick you up. 

He lived close by, and he’d been there many times before when the buses and subways were closed. Even at the oddest times of night, he always knew when you were out and would be there to get you. You would have called him, but considering you looked like a mess, surely Taehyung was bound to ask questions about what happened during your evening with the boss. That was the last thing you needed, keeping as few people involved as possible was the better option. Plus, he had spent the night partying, and you doubted if he was available or even sober enough to drive you.

Jungkook it was then.

Things were noticeably awkward between you two. As you both waited for the elevator, a notable distance separated you two, and a painful silence settled in the air.

“You never answered my question earlier…” Things felt different now. The further you walked from the sanctuary of his office, the more real it became. You honestly wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened. You both stepped inside and Jungkook hit the button down to the garage. 

What could he say?

“What excuse could I give?” Jungkook sounded distraught and you started feeling bad once again. 

“I mean… I don’t mean to impose, but considering what happened… you just don’t seem fine.” You spoke sincerely, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook leaned against the elevator wall, and with the lights shining down on his face, you could clearly see the wetness staining his cheeks. 

There was a moment of silence as your statement lingered in the air, but eventually Jungkook worked up the courage to say something, anything really, he owed you that much at least. 

“It's an arranged marriage.” Jungkook's voice was still hoarse, and a tear rolled down his cheek as the words left his mouth. He really hated telling people.

You were visibly shocked at this, eyes widening as his words processed in your mind. You thought it was weird he was married, but you didn’t think arranged marriages happened anymore, especially here. Even if they did, that didn’t matter, he was still so young. 

“It’s been hard over the years… really, really hard, but that doesn’t excuse anything.” Jungkook was vague, however it was still something. 

As you both stepped out of the elevator, into the short hallway, and out the parking garage, Jungkook offered once again to get your clothes professionally cleaned or replaced if that’s what you preferred, when he still noticed the stain on your skirt under the light. 

You thanked him, but you didn’t want to be indebted to him. Instead, you said you’d handle it yourself.

Plus, now you can call it even.

It was awkward again as he pushed open the door and you both walked to his car. It was one of the only ones down here, but who else would own a Mercedes?

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t… I’m sorry…” Jungkook was lying through his teeth. He wished he wasn’t, but as bad as he felt, no one had ever made him feel that good before.

“Look.” You stopped in your tracks, making him stop with you.

“You obviously seem to be going through a lot, I get that. But Jungkook, I don't want to be involved in this.” You were serious as you spoke. 

“That’s your business. Tonight did not happen. Tomorrow we’ll come into work like none of this happened. You won’t ever need to worry about me telling anyone. This was a fluke, a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened. I trust you’ll do the same. That’s as simple as it needs to be.” You seemed mad, and as much as you were right, Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his chest tightened at your words.

A fluke, a mistake, something that shouldn’t have happened. It hurt so much for some reason, but you were right in the end.

Jungkook just nodded, knowing he would have a breakdown if he tried to say anything. But what could he say anyway? You were right.

You both steadily made it to his car, a sleek, black, 2022 Mercedes AMG GT 53 4-door Coupe. This was his personal car, not the fancy SUV his driver would always take him around in, but whenever Jungkook worked late nights like this, he’d normally drive himself to work and give Dae-Jung the day off.

You tried not to show how impressed you were as you got in. It really was a nice car with the pretty LED lights dimly illuminating the matching black interior. Then the sound it made as he started it up, and with one hand on the wheel, he pulled out of the underground garage…

If things were different, this definitely would have easily made you fold— a good looking guy driving a sexy car was a thing you knew you had, but this was a married man who you just had an affair with.

Now was certainly not the time.

The ride was silent, aside from when Jungkook asked for your apartment’s address. What else was there to say really?

You were mad. You wanted to put all the blame on Jungkook for getting you involved with this mess, but it takes two to tango as they say. You never stopped him when he pulled you close and you didn’t want to. You were just as mad at him as you were at yourself.

You knew he was married, yet you kept going, you wanted more, and relished when he finally filled you up. And his eyes, he seemed so sad, you wanted to do anything to make him feel better. 

As Jungkook drove you home, a new look seemed to settle behind his gaze. Before he seemed like he was constantly at the point of breaking, but now it was nothingness, lifelessness, a void contained in his dark orbs. 

Were you too harsh earlier? That’s the way it had to be though, this had to be a mistake you would never acknowledge at any point going forward. But maybe there was a better way to say it. Something clearly wasn’t right, and you were still concerned at the end of the day.

The late hour offered minimal traffic so you were pulling up to your apartment building just a little over twenty minutes later.

You were quick to grab your stuff and push open the door to get out, but not without a glance at the man beside you whose hair almost entirely shielded his gaze. His hands on the steering wheel were tight and he never once looked at you. 

“Jungkook…” That gentle tone was back and he finally looked at you.

He seemed dazed almost. 

“You should probably talk to someone. You seem to be going through a lot, and even though you were vague with me, someone out there will listen to you. Not going to lie, I’m a little worried… you remind me so much of a friend who went through a lot and… It might really help talking to a professional.” You held that same look of concern you had right before he kissed you.

It was so bad, he wanted to do it again.

Jungkook felt his cheeks warm at the thought, remembering how it felt to have your lips against his.

He weakly tried to laugh it off. “You aren’t the first person who’s said that.” 

“You might really benefit from it. I suggest trying it out.” 

Jungkook nodded. The last time he attempted therapy it didn’t go so well, but then again, he had only gone twice. 

You gave him a weak smile before you swung your bag over your shoulder and started walking toward the entrance. Jungkook stayed until he made sure you made it inside, and then he was driving off. 

His head was empty as he drove down the road, no tears, no pain, no anything. Instead, he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier, it had never felt like that before, not once had it felt like that before.

Your hands, your lips, your body, your our skirt bunched up around your waist, your thigh-highs, that lacy black bra you had on underneath, your smeared lipstick. It replayed in his head over and over again. By the time Jungkook made it home it was going on three. He was tired, his body ached, his mind spent, but there was only one thing he could focus on as he punched in the code to the door. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised when he opened the door to find the apartment, dark, empty, and he was alone, like always. Yuri had texted him right before you walked in his office that the shoot was in fact running long and she wouldn’t be home until early in the morning. It was almost a relief that she wasn’t here. He didn’t know what he would have done if she was, but the silence was painful. Silence let his mind wander off too much, and in the silence the realization of his actions hit him once again. 

Jungkook’s eyes started to blur as he looked at the pictures that were sprinkled around the apartment of the two of them. He felt terrible, but not like how he should have.

This was actually his worst nightmare, he had turned his marriage from one that could have posed as real as any other, into that fake shit his parents put up with. Jungkook had turned into the person he detested the most, and there was nothing he could do to come back from it. He should feel terrible, so fucking terrible. He should prepare to get on his knees and beg for Yuri’s forgiveness, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. He had been such a terrible husband over the years and the one thing he thought he’d never betray was the fact he was faithful and he’d always try his best to make their relationship work.

What now? Had he just given up? Jungkook wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to do worse, he wanted to make it hurt, but instead, he just sank down against the door.

All he could think about was you and how good it felt. Was it just because he was so sensitive? It really had been so long, but it had never been like that before. Never, not even in the memory he held so closely— Yuri and him in the hot tub at the Maldives. It had never felt like that.

Jungkook should feel guilty, and he did, but only because he didn’t feel bad. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, your hands, your lips, you, you, you.

Despite the fiasco in his office, the ride over with him and his stupid fucking mind that wouldn’t shut up, had his cock aching all over again. He was hard, and he wished so much you would have invited him upstairs so he could have stayed in your arms all night long. He would have said yes if you offered.

He wanted you so badly, but this wasn’t right. 

Jungkook wanted to fix this, he easily could have, the memories were vivid and he so badly wanted to feel good again. But the tears finally fell on his cheeks when he remembered Yuri and how disappointed she would be. He couldn't do that, he couldn't, he fucking couldn’t.

He was a disappointment, Yuri was right about everything. He was pathetic, his life couldn’t get any worse.

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