#one of the senior techs
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orcinus-veterinarius · 2 years ago
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A little win... yesterday was my last day at the zoo. I had to give a half-hour presentation (to a much larger group than I'd anticipated), and I was extremely anxious about what I'd prepared. But it went very well, and several people told me afterwards how informative it was! Which I really needed to hear after struggling so much with my confidence this past month.
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caramelmochacrow · 2 months ago
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just had a bad day, thats why ive been out of it sorry.
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cleocatrablossy · 7 months ago
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I think it’d be really fucking funny if Gravity Falls was sorta like Ashland in that it gets theatre field trips. Or maybe stagecraft field trips, it would be a really good place to get inspiration for sets and being a lumber town might have some good opportunities to learn about building stuff. Or at least there would be more opportunities for stagecraft stuff than acting y’know. But either way Bay Area performing arts kids should get shipped up there every year of high school. Just because I think it’d be funny if one year Dipper and Mabel are going on a school field trip and suddenly they’re in Gravity Falls again but have to try and course correct their classmates from the people they know in the town. But they’re preforming arts kids so there’s no way that would work but it’d be really fucking funny. Maybe Stan heard from the twins that they’re required to see a play and write a play review by end of semester but everyone always puts it off and so has to panic watch one around the time of the trip so he tries to quickly set up a play there before they all go back to Cali. At least one kid stumbles across the bunker and the shapeshifter becomes a thing of [The Scottish Play] levels of superstition.
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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 2 years ago
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plagued by the thought of telling bully gojo to cut the shit or you'll start screaming and he just grins real big.
i cannot go down this rabbit hole again bc im much more comfortable writing heinous content now and the absolutely diabolical dubcon im willing to write now is dangerous territory
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ainawgsd · 9 months ago
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I graduate in a month what
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goldenhourology · 2 months ago
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SLACKING OFF.
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pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader
genre: smut, angst, fluff, coworkers to lovers, friends to lovers
summary: being technologically averse, yet a complete control freak to your core, you tend to annoy senior IT specialist, jeon wonwoo, to no end. but after an apology brings you two closer together, wonwoo finds himself reaching out to you more often than not. on and off slack. despite what you two had originally perceived, you find yourself thrown into feelings that neither of you could've ever prepared for.
warnings: handjobs, fingering, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, missionary position, belly bulge, grinding, praise, wonwoo is a service top!!, multiple sex scenes, jerking it in an corporate office bathroom lol, drunk horniness, miscommunication, reader is learning how to open up<3, mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).
word count: 19.2k
note: hello new ppl, welcome to the first goldenhourology one shot ✨ I've written things in the past, but this is my first really long one shot. the longer it got, the more I stressed out lol. but I've seen a lot of people do this 20k word one shots, so I thought I'd try my hand at it! also idk much about tech, so if I got anything wrong in this, pls ignore it. thank you to anyone who gives this a read!!
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in rotation: picture you, chappell roan / dress, taylor swift / valentine, laufey / diamond boy, sza
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Some said your late 20s were the last few years of fun before you fully allowed yourself to be an adult, so why were you always drowning in work?
It didn’t help that you were an executive assistant in one of the biggest software companies in the U.S. When you took the job, surely, you should’ve known that you’d be signing up for an exorbitant amount of work, ranging from invoice management, planning travel for your boss, to even research for senior managers. Despite the constant stress you were under, you liked this job. You liked the trust that your boss had in you. You liked that they let you be independent and figure things out on your own.
And when you couldn’t … you simply contacted IT.
It helped that a senior IT specialist sat right across from your cubicle.
Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t the most talkative cubicle buddy, nor was he the most pleasant. He did his best to give you a smile every once in a while, but he had to fight the urge to throw his head in his hands whenever you send him a message on Slack. You didn’t typically need help with anything, except in the area of tech. You were so organized and incredibly smart – it didn’t take an idiot to see that – but god forbid, sometimes … you could be so technologically averse.
Maybe he just had too many years of schooling under his belt – he was 28 now with both a Bachelors and Masters in Software Engineering – but you surprised him with some of your requests. Sometimes, you’d delete files by accident, need to renew your subscription to important apps, even locked yourself out of your own computer once. He had interns underneath him that could be available to help you, but you had consistently messaged him. And he sat directly across from you. No matter what, it was always going to be Wonwoo that had to help you. Fate had made sure of that.
There were times that you realized you were bothering him. Either you heard him curse from behind his extremely large monitor or he adjusted his glasses so much that you thought he might break them in half. And to be honest, you liked being in control of your own work, so you’d try to find a solution. Typically, solving your own tech problems left your computer in more disarray.
And there was Wonwoo to save the day yet again.
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You [10:58 AM]: Morning, Wonwoo!
You [10:58 AM]: I screwed up
You [10:59 AM]: Boss sent me some documents that were password protected, but he’s away for the next two days and not answering his phone
You [10:59 AM]: So I might’ve downloaded some software to help me unlock it and I think it’s attempting to hack my email as we speak
You [11:01 AM]: I’m so so sorry! I didn’t want to bother you
Jeon Wonwoo [11:01 AM]: I’ll be right over.
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Luckily for you, Wonwoo was able to fix the problem and stop your email from getting hacked. Whoever was the owner of that virus-filled program you tried to download didn’t gain access to those password-protected documents before Wonwoo secured your computer. But it was close. Too close.
Not only that, but he had a multitude of other projects today. He had to train two new interns … have one of those annual performance reviews with the head of IT … change over a dozen new passwords for people … and then he found out that they’re changing servers. Which meant everything backed up on their former server had to be transferred over to the new one. Fucking great.
He wasn’t sure how many times he sighed today, but it had to be over a hundred. When he couldn’t stand to be sitting anymore, he stood up and paced around the third floor of the building. Today felt like the longest day of his life. And there was a mustard stain on his green sweater vest. And he got a shitty haircut a few days ago. And he probably needed new glasses because he was getting headaches. 
It was time for a coffee. As well as a day off.
Coincidentally, you were also headed to the break room that afternoon in need of a green tea. You were about to walk in when you heard your cubicle mate letting out a frustrated breath while talking to another IT specialist. He was clearly fed up about something, or maybe just tired of this day. You hid next to the doorframe, and just when you thought it was safe to step out, you heard your name fall from his lips.
“I don’t understand how she does it,” Wonwoo complained, hands smacking against his sides. “Seriously, it’s mind boggling. I’m pretty sure she has her Masters in Business Administration, but she does this shit that just makes me … Oh my god, she literally tried to download some faulty software off the internet today, instead of just asking me or someone else for help.” 
“Oh, yeah, everyone wants to turn to you when you got that attitude, man,” someone – Lee Seokmin, maybe? – joked.
“You get what a mean.” Wonwoo watched the first couple drips of shitty office coffee fill his cup. “I was able to save her computer, yeah, but it would be nice to avoid an emergency for a day.”
Seokmin slapped him on the back. “The joys of working in IT.”
You huffed, stalking away from the break room and back to your desk. There was only so much office gossip you could take, especially when it involved you. As soon as you sat down, you finished typing up an email at the loudest volume possible, your fingers basically punching themselves into the keys. You heard Wonwoo slide back into his desk chair, the fresh smell of burnt coffee wafting across to you, and he didn’t say a thing. Not that he would ever know you had eavesdropped. But not a “hello” or “how has computer been after this morning?” He went back to work, burning his tongue on the overly hot liquid.
Maybe Wonwoo was right; maybe you did need to just stop overthinking and ask for help instead of figuring stuff out on your own. Or maybe this asshole needed an attitude check.
You decided to not bother him for the rest of the week, complaining to your friends that Friday night about your shithead of a coworker. They said he might be looking out for you in his own fucked up way. You said he might just be an asshole.
Come Monday morning, you had realized your ignoring hadn’t effected him at all. He still sent you the same small smile as he walked in and sat down across from you. Could he really not see how pissed you are, or had the facade you’d crafted for so long as the perfect corporate employee work too well?
You should just be upfront with him, take control of the situation. Like always. 
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You [9:44 AM]: I heard you in the break room a few days ago.
You [9:44 AM]: I just didn’t want to bother you. That’s why I had tried to figure out the issue on my own. Didn’t realize that was a crime
Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: Crap.
Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: You weren’t supposed to hear that.
You [9:47 AM]: Well, I did
Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Listen.
Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Not that it excuses anything, but there’s so much going on at work. It wasn’t all about you. I was complaining just to complain and I didn’t mean any of it.
Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: I’m sorry.
You [9:51 AM]: Wow
Jeon Wonwoo [9:51 AM]: What?
You [9:51 AM]: You’ve never come across as someone who can apologize well
Jeon Wonwoo [9:52 AM]: Are you sure you aren’t projecting right now? We sit across from each other. I’ve seen how stubborn you are.
You [9:53 AM]: I thought you were apologizing to me????
Jeon Wonwoo [9:56 AM]: I’m sorry. Again.
You [10:01 AM]: Okay, you’re forgiven
Jeon Wonwoo [10:09 AM]: Can I make it up to you with a coffee?
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You didn’t go out on dates. The last one you went on was … years ago, probably in undergrad. Once you go for your Masters, all energy to date goes out the window.
Not that this was a date. This certainly was not a date.
This was an apology coffee after work, since the two of you seemed to have an affinity for caffeine at late hours.
Even if, per chance, he thought this was a date … you’d eventually have to let him down easy. It probably wasn’t in your best interest to date someone like Jeon Wonwoo, but you’d also closed yourself off from love for far too long. It wasn’t that you didn’t get lonely – you did, very much, especially on late nights where it was just you and your favorite vibrator – but it was just … scary. Opening yourself up. Losing just a small semblance of control. You weren’t even sure you could physically allow yourself to do that after being alone for so long. 
Your heart had been tucked away so many years ago, locked inside a box, and then in another box, and so on. With the final lock being so complicated that only someone who knew the last four of your social security number could answer. No one was opening up that box. Your heart was safe from the outside world.
You were independent, reliant on only yourself, and you liked it that way.
Once he had gotten both your coffees, he sat down next to you at a hightop table, folding his winter coat over the back of his chair. He had managed to remember your latte order and it tasted perfect. Your eyes flitted up, ogling him for a moment. When you’re not under the fluorescent lights of the office, Wonwoo was … attractive. To say the least. Maybe he always had been and you were too blind to see it. Maybe his face was perpetually hidden by his monitor.
His hair was tousled in the way that it looked effortless, even if he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed. He had a tendency to wear sweater vests with white t-shirts underneath, or button-downs with jeans. But it was only when he showed off his forearms that you realized he was surprisingly built underneath his oversized clothes. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. You liked his glasses too; they always sat on the edge of his nose. A thin line was etched into both lenses, suggesting age, but they framed his face well.
Yeah, you thought to yourself, he is handsome.
“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, knocking you out of your stupor.
You blinked and looked down at your coffee, removing the lid. “Oh, I … uh … good question.”
“Listen,” he started, eyes flickering to his hands, “I’m really sorry about what I said –”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”
“– And I understand if you want to go to HR about this –”
You shook your head. “Wait, what? Why would I do that?”
He glanced around, until finally, his eyes were on you again. And suddenly, you were wondering if his eyes were dark brown or the color of cinnamon. “Isn’t that what any rational person would do?”
He had you stumped there. If this were a different situation … you probably would do that. “I’m not going to tell HR about this, Wonwoo. You apologized and said you didn’t mean it. I have to trust that.” And you didn’t trust lightly – hardly at all – but something about Wonwoo made you feel like it could be easy with him.
“We all have shit days,” you added, taking a sip of the scalding hot latte. “You have a ton of stuff on your plate. Doesn’t give you an excuse for what you did, but we all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean. I have so many things to organize throughout the day, and sometimes it gets the better of me. Remember when I had book that last minute trip for our CEO and I was on the phone for hours with Delta and Suzanne in finance had the nerve to start bothering me about some invoice? I lost it on her for a straight minute.”
“Oh, my god, yeah,” he chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory resurfaced. “Her eyes almost came out of her skull at your reaction. To be fair … Suzanne needs to be knocked down a peg sometimes. She always blames IT when she can’t get into her email, but it’s because she’s constantly typing her password with one letter off.”
You couldn’t help but giggle. Your hand hit the tabletop a few times as you let your workplace personality fade in front of your coworker. “Those new IT interns don’t know what’s coming once Suzanne comes for them,” you joked.
“The IT interns don’t know anything. Period.” He jabbed his finger onto the table. “I mean, they’re interns, but it takes so much time to train them. If I have to teach them JavaScript one more time …”
“Say it, Jeon Wonwoo,” you egged him on, a chuckle filtering at the end. “What will happen if you have to teach those good for nothing interns JavaScript?”
A slow smile made it’s way onto Wonwoo’s face, and … damn, you were actually a really cool person. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll tell you what will happen …”
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Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: Did you bring lunch today?
Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: I just found this new cafe down the street and was thinking about grabbing something there in a few. Did you wanna come?
You [12:14 PM]: Do you think they have a chicken salad sandwich on the menu
Jeon Wonwoo [12:15 PM]: I can only assume so?
You [12:15 PM]: SOLD
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You both go out for more coffees, before and after work. You found yourself excited to wake up early, to meet up with Wonwoo at the coffee shop located in the lobby of your work building. Always getting there before him, you typically ordered two coffees – remembering his order to a T – and when he walked in five minutes late, he promised to buy the next round. You never let him.
You began planning lunches over Slack, discussing what was on special at that cafe he found last month. In fact, you two talked most of the day on Slack. A message from you had once gotten on his nerves, and now … he was eager for it. Eager to hear your thoughts throughout the day, excited to talk about what new dumb question an intern asked him today or to see more pictures of your grandma’s cats.
And Wonwoo … Wonwoo was easier to get along with than you thought. You just had to peel back the layers before he finally got comfortable, and honestly, you could relate. To be fair, you had a few more layers than he did, but he was slowly learning that you were more than what he perceived. After that first coffee, he realized how funny you were, and then a couple lunches later, he learned you were an avid romance and thriller reader – and nothing in between. It wasn’t until last week that he finally cracked you open enough to learn about your love for Elder Scrolls Online. He was sure you were joking at first, but when you clarified how serious you were, he almost fell off his chair.
“I’m not shocked that you play it,” he said over coffee one morning. “What I’m shocked at is that you’d rather play Elder Scrolls Online and not Skyrim.”
“Of course, you would say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I don’t really have an interest in the game universe. I started playing Elder Scrolls Online to relieve stress while applying to colleges, and then I just … didn’t stop.” You shrugged.
Much to his own surprise – even with your take on Skyrim – Wonwoo thoroughly enjoyed your company. It was insane that you both had spent almost two years sitting across from each other before realizing how much you liked each other. Words always left unsaid. Eyes staying glued to computers. It had been a routine for you both that you had never strayed from – until now. So many tech requests over Slack … and now he was actively looking forward to work everyday. To seeing you. To talking with you. 
You.
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Jeon Wonwoo realized how much he liked stockings. Specifically, he liked the way you looked in them.
And that’s when things got dangerous.
He started to notice the days you would wear them, and then concluded which day you did laundry. You liked wearing blouses with a pencil skirt and stockings on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Those were now his favorite days. 
Wednesdays you’d wear dress pants and maybe a sweater, whereas on “Casual Fridays,” you were clad in a t-shirt with a cardigan layered and jeans. You always looked nice at the office, but those stocking days … they were getting to him.
Sometimes, he’d watch the way you walked away from your desk – either to the Boss’ office or to the finance department – and he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your legs. You had these stockings that had a slight tear in the back, and he wondered if you realized, or was he just too much of a perverted loser to be the first person to notice? He wanted to purchase a new pair for you. He wanted to replace all your stockings and buy you enough that you could wear them with a skirt everyday, just so he could see you in them.
Maybe he was a loser.
You looked up at him, even in heels, and you had this way of smiling at him that left him questioning why you liked hanging out with him in the first place. His personality couldn’t be that charming to warrant your attention. But you were warm – even when your hands were perpetually cold – and kind, never straying once he was in front of you. And you had this lip gloss that stained your lips magenta and made them shine. Even in the dim fluorescent lights. When his chair turned just slightly and he let his eyes glaze over you, one finger rubbing at his top lip, he couldn’t help but be curious if the gloss had a flavor to it … and then, he’d get distracted by your legs again. And your blouse, and your hair. 
Don’t even get him started on the way you smelled.
Maybe he was a loser. No, he was most definitely a loser. 
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It was a Thursday night. Almost 7 PM and you were still at the office. You had plans to go out tonight to celebrate your friend’s new job, but you ended up having to cancel when the Boss placed a stack of paperwork on your desk before leaving the building at promptly 6 o’clock. Why he couldn’t have given you all these invoices and memos hours ago was beyond you, but you weren’t even halfway through this stack and the janitor was now mopping beside you.
When a Slack notification appeared on the side of your monitor, you didn’t even read it before spinning around in your chair. There Wonwoo was, leaning back in his own chair while a progress window ticked on one of his dual monitors. You raised a brow. “I didn’t even hear you over there,” you commented. “Why are you still here?”
“A month or so ago, the IT head told me that we’d soon be transitioning servers, so all of our backups and data need to be transferred over to this new server.” He explained, adjusting his glasses and glancing over at the progress window. It changed from 23% to 24% finished. “Someone had to be the lucky person to stay after hours and make sure it all went smoothly.”
You twirled a pen in your two fingers and crossed your legs. “Oh, that sucks.” Your skirt hiked up a little, and just that small flash of exposed skin had Wonwoo averting his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m assuming you’re still here because of that.” He nodded towards the pile of paper.
“No, no, obviously I love being here after hours with you,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone, but it still ignited a short spark of hope within him. (Wonwoo, can you chill the fuck out? He chastised.) “You know the Boss has a penchant for letting invoices pile up. He just so happened to let that pile end up on my desk before he left today. And some of these needed to be filled out …” Your eyes skimmed the first paper on your desk. “Oh, yesterday!”
Wonwoo offered to help you while also keeping watch of his computer – 28% finished – but you insisted you could handle it. “I already bother you enough during work hours,” you said before turning back to your desk. He knew by now that you were simply too stubborn to give up control of the project. Once you had started it yourself, you needed to see it through. He wasn’t sure if you two were close enough that he could be completely honest, that he could tell you that it was fine to let go this independence that you kept on a tight leash. He was willing to help. (God, was he willing.) 
But he chocked it up to telling you once that you were “so fucking stubborn.”
Your reply had come in the form of a swift kick to his knee.
Wonwoo glanced at his monitor. 67% finished.
It was 10 PM and you were just about finished with the paperwork, but you were running on fumes. Just a few memos left and you’d be done. To get you through the next hour, you needed something. So you headed to the break room, suddenly craving some burnt workplace coffee. (What was it about this coffee maker that gave it such a distinct burnt flavor? You’d never know.) After placing the pod of coffee grounds in the slot and filling the water, you pressed the start button, turning around with a huff to see Wonwoo striding into the break room. A crushed, styrofoam coffee cup was clutched in his large hand before he tossed it in the barrel beside you. 
“How’s your transfer going?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Coffee had started to pour from the machine and into your cup.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s at 88% now. Hopefully should be done in the next hour.”
“Me too, if all goes well.” A sigh escaped your lips. “I still have a few more papers to fill out. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, but I haven’t looked through them all yet.”
Wonwoo stepped forward, reaching in the direction of the styrofoam cups. “If you had let me help you –”
You tried sidestepping out of the way to give him some room, but his hand brushed against your arm anyway. Your chin tilted up as your eyes met his, back pressing against the counter. “It wouldn’t have helped,” you finished for him.
His arm paused mid-air, and he looked down at you. Eyes narrowing, he replied, “You’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. You have this desperate need to be in control of everything.”
“And why is that a bad thing?” Your tone took a hard edge. The last thing you wanted right now was to put effort into arguing, but you were tired and already on the edge of a breakdown. “I’ve relied on myself for as long as I can remember. I like being in control. I like being stubborn. If I didn’t do most things myself –”
“You ask me to fix something on your computer at least once a day.”
“That’s different.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, and you noticed then just how close he was. Your chests were practically touching. “Sometimes you do try to figure things out yourself and almost break your hard drive.”
His progress window was probably at 93% finished now. He should head back to his desk, but his feet stayed planted right where they were.
“Why does it matter?” You exhaled loud, your hands slapping against your hips. “Do you want an award or something? You have your way of doing things, and I have mine. I’m not perfect, but I … I like things the way they are.” Change is scary, you thought to yourself, but didn’t dare voice it out loud.
He was so close that he could smell your perfume. The scent of lavender mixed with orange blossoms and vanilla filled his nostrils, swirling around his brain. He could get addicted to this smell, to you. Maybe he already was. When his eyes roamed down to your legs and he saw his favorite pair of stockings on you, he damn near collapsed. In fact, he hadn’t even realized the soft groan had left his lips until your gaze found his, your pretty irises growing wide.
You were just so … captivating.
His hands were on both sides of you, pressing your back further into the counter. Your black coffee steaming and fully abandoned in the coffee machine. He was holding himself back, his knuckles going white with restraint. But he wasn’t like you. He could only keep himself in control for so long. And with you here right now, your perfume surrounding him, your stockings-clad thigh brushing against his leg, your a hand placed on his chest … he was a goner.
“Wonwoo,” you whispered, palm still resting on his shirt, “we …”
When your voice trailed off, Wonwoo’s instincts got the better of him. “Please, just …” One hand came up to smooth against your cheek, and he was almost out of breath as he pulled your face to his. “Let me do this.”
He gave you enough time to shove him back, to yell at him, to tell him you didn’t like him in that way. But your neck was craning towards his, and he took that as a sign to crash his lips onto yours. They were softer than he expected, and the taste … your gloss tasted like – well, like nothing. But if he pretended, he could’ve sworn there was a slight cherry aftertaste. His glasses bumped into your nose, but he’d been too overwhelmed to remember to take them off. Mouth moving against yours, his hips crammed you more against the counter, hard enough to leave a bruise on your spine. You didn’t care though. His shoulders were so wide that they shielded you, inviting your body into his, and your fingers fisted into his button-up. Tongues tangled, eager to taste more and more of each other. 
Wonwoo could kiss you forever. You didn’t want him to stop.
But all good things must end. Because when he instinctively placed his leg between yours, he knew this was going too far. Especially because you two were still at work. In the break room.
He instantly removed his leg, his lips breaking from yours. Your eyes connected, the room filled with only the sounds of heavy breathing, before you wiped a trail of spit from your chin.
Wonwoo’s head spun behind him. Thank god, there was no CCTV camera by the coffee maker.
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Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: Good morning.
Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: I shouldn’t have done that last night.
Jeon Wonwoo [9:10 AM]: Still friends?
You [9:14 AM]: We probably shouldn’t be talking about this on Slack
You [9:15 AM]: Here’s my number: 855-777-0821
You [9:18 AM]: But yes friends :D
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Wonwoo did not want to be just friends. But he was utterly terrified of what you would say if he voiced that. You had kissed him back, yes, but … hadn’t you agreed to be friends far too quickly? You had both hung out post-kiss – he liked to call this period of time A.T.K. (after the kiss) – and you didn’t seem to be ruminating on it like he was. Of course, he didn’t know what you were thinking, and you could be so hard to read sometimes when your layers weren’t stripped back enough. But …
Could it really have meant nothing to you?
If that were the case, he didn’t know how it was possible for you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss even if he tried. When he saw you the next day – Friday, January 9, A.T.K. – the first thing he noticed was your lip gloss and all he wanted was to have it smeared over his mouth again. He noticed the way your hair fell over your shoulder, remembering how soft the strands felt when his fingers had slipped between them. He noticed that you were wearing those jeans that hugged your ass just right, and – god, now he was wishing that he had touched more than just your cheek. Wonwoo wanted to touch you everywhere. And vice versa. He didn’t care if your hands were constantly freezing or if they were dry during the winter. He wanted you to touch him however you pleased. He wanted to grab you and kiss you and hold those cold hands in his warm ones –
Oh, my god. He had a boner. At work. Just the mere memory of a kiss had him shifting himself in his pants underneath his desk, hoping no one noticed.
Eventually, he stood up, trying to keep a casual hand over the bulge in his pants as he fast walked to the bathroom. Nobody batted an eye, but you did steal a glance over at him once his back was turned. Your brow raised at the way he was practically sprinting for the elevator, not realizing that he was heading for the second floor restrooms. He must be excited for something. Probably a package, you thought before turning back to your computer.
Wonwoo felt like he could finally breathe once he was inside a stall. He rested his head against the cool tile wall, feeling the ache start to settle in his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. What 28-year-old gets a boner from a kiss? You had him acting like a goddamn teenager.
What had you done to him? Just one kiss and he was completely under your spell.
(Or maybe he’d been this way all along.)
His fingers fumbled with the zipper on his jeans as he finally pulled himself out of his jeans, stroking from base to tip. Thankfully, no one was in the bathroom. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. The last thing he ever wanted was to be that guy who jacked off in the bathroom. But you had to wear those goddamn jeans –
Wonwoo wasn’t good at hiding his feelings, but he was doing a pretty good job even as this was killing him inside. He wasn’t like you; he found it hard to restrain himself, to ignore everything that was bubbling up inside him. He could feel himself cracking. What would be the thing that finally broke him?
The answer was simple: alcohol.
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Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: Dude lol. Why’d you run away from your desk like that
Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: I think you could win the Olympics with that kind of sprint!
Jeon Wonwoo [11:39 AM]: Don’t ask.
Lee Seokmin [11:40 AM]: Alrighty then ;)
Lee Seokmin [11:41 AM]: On another note … you free next Thursday? My buddy in the marketing department, Josh, finally has a night off from his kid so we were thinking of getting a group together for drinks after work. Interested?
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The last thing you ever expected was to be invited to drinks with Seokmin and some of the managers in marketing, but Wonwoo said you should come. “In fact,” he had clarified, “you should come so I don’t have to deal with DK’s drunk antics all night.” Who were you to deprive him of your presence when he was that desperate? Plus, there was a nice girl in marketing that was also invited; maybe tonight was the night to befriend her.
But the marketing people knew how to party. You were only halfway through your second beer whereas the rest of your group was on their fourth. And three tequila shots deep. Wonwoo, seemingly, had an affinity for tequila, unlike yourself. He was able to throw them back like it was nothing; he didn’t even need a chaser. When Seokmin had requested they all get a fourth, he was met with a round of cheers, and even Wonwoo – quiet, introverted Wonwoo – threw his hands up with excitement. You placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Are you sure about that?”
Wonwoo felt his whole body freeze when your hot breath reached his ear. A pale, pink flush appeared on his cheeks, but you chocked it up to how drunk he was. Eventually, he waved away your worry with his hand. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine. Hey, how about I get you another beer?”
“Are you even coherent enough to get me another –”
“HEY! Bartender! Can I get one more of these?!” He shouted, waving your empty glass in the air. “Oh, and more tequila!”
Seokmin slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, laughing along with him. As you made friends with the rest of the marketing department, you found yourself glancing at Wonwoo every so often. His cheeks were so rosy now, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. To be fair though, everyone in this dive bar seemed to be in the same state of mind. Seokmin was singing along to the Sabrina Carpenter song blasting through the speakers. Josh was so drunk that he was crying about how much he loved his friends. They had even gotten Suzanne in finance to come out, and she was making friends with everyone for once. And Wonwoo … oh, god, Wonwoo’s head was now on the bar top and he was closing his eyes –
You abandoned your beer and walked over to your friend, shaking his shoulders. His eyes instantly opened, expecting to see Seokmin, but when his gaze met yours, he instantly felt all warm and fuzzy. “Okay,” you said, trying your best to hoist this 6 foot man off the barstool, “you’ve had enough. I’m taking you home.”
It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell you his address, but you guessed you shouldn’t be surprised when the man on your arm was blackout drunk. After flagging a taxi, you shoved him in the seat next to you and rubbed your hands together to get them warm. Wonwoo’s head was on your shoulder the second you sat down, his eyes fluttering closed as the taxi sped off into the night. You watched his fingers twitch on his thigh as he whispered sleepily, “I think my family would really like you.”
“Is that so?” You chuckled, squeezing his arm for reassurance, but little did you know just how much your touch effected him. “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re you,” he replied, and then yawned. “Only you and Mingyu would do this for me.”
Your brow furrowed. “Who’s Mingyu?”
The taxi pulled up to a brick apartment building then, and your cold fingers struggled to get cash out from your pocket while Wonwoo was practically laying on top of you. Finally, you did your best to haul him out of the seat, thanking the taxi driver before gathering an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. The building was definitely old with vines of ivy crawling up one side. There was a dead tree with snow covering it’s branches directly by the door, spilling snowflakes on your head as you struggled to input the code Wonwoo managed to remember. And then, you were pulling him up two flights of stairs, which took far longer than you estimated. You had basically ripped his keys from his hand once you reached his apartment and continued to drag him inside, laying him on the old couch that was conveniently right near the door.
Wonwoo grumbled as soon as his head hit the armrest, and he almost fell off the couch if it weren’t for you catching him and rolling him back onto the cushion. “I’m going to go get you a glass of water,” you said, quickly rushing off to his kitchen. “Please, for the love of god, don’t fall off the couch again.”
He whined for you to come back, but you pretended you didn’t hear it, because if you did, you’d have to reckon with the tingle that bloomed between your legs at the sound of his desperation.
The entrance of his kitchen was right in front of a small hallway that sectioned off two ways. There was a bedroom door on each side of the hall, and once you walked inside the kitchen, you found a tiny table from the 80s and the dishwasher currently running. You didn’t have time to contemplate that now, and instead pilfered through his cabinets until you found a glass and filled it with tap water. Rushing back to his side, Wonwoo was already laying halfway off the couch and you sighed.
You set the glass of water on his coffee table and lifted him back up. With a little bit of help from you, you both managed to shrug off his winter jacket and you tucked a throw blanket over him to prevent him from falling off again. A heavy exhale slipped past your lips as you knelt by his side, and you couldn’t help but reach out to pushed back his hair from his forehead. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You smiled to yourself.
Were coworkers supposed to show this much affection for each other?
“Wonwoo,” you said softly, and he cracked one eye open. “Do you want some water?”
He shut that eye again, grimacing at the thought of anything entering his body right now. “Ab…absolutely not.”
“It’ll make you feel better,” you persuaded, but he still shook his head. “Okay, so what do you want right now?”
His breath stilled for a moment. “Can I be honest?”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“I …” No, he couldn’t be that honest. “I want you to … keep p–pushing back my hair. It’s … relaxing.”
You chuckled, “Okay, you got it.” Your fingers were at the crown of his head again, smoothing back the strands. You hadn’t noticed until now that he had a freckle on the left side of his forehead; maybe you’d just never been this close to notice. Well, actually, you had. There was this thing you two did called a kiss –
“If you’re going to fall asleep, I’m going to take off your glasses,” you informed him, slipping his glasses off and setting them by his glass of water. It was late, much later than you anticipated on staying out, and you both still had to go to work tomorrow. 
But then his hand was grabbing your wrist, his grip surprisingly firm for how intoxicated he was. “Can I b–be honest again?” He slurred, his eyes half open to meet yours.
You sighed, placing your hand on top of his, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Just know whatever you say will be used to make fun of you tomorrow –”
“I can’t … I haven’t …” He took a breath to formulate the words in his head. “… Stopped thinking about our kiss.”
You blinked down at him, watching the way his eyes began to close again as he relaxed into the old couch cushions. “You can’t just say shit like –”
He scoffed dramatically. “I’m noooot,” he defended, his hand slipping off your wrist to curl underneath the blanket.
“Wonwoo …” Your voice trailed off, the words dying on your tongue.
“Who the hell are you?”
You immediately got to your feet at the sound of another person’s voice behind you. Eyes growing wide, you took in the sight of the man in front of you wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chiseled abdomen as he shook a smaller towel through his hair. He might’ve been taller than Wonwoo, only by a little bit, and his skin was a golden tan that reminded you of summertime even in this harsh winter. Why was Wonwoo hiding handsome men in his apartment? The man looked at you, waiting for an answer, his brows raised.
“Oh,” you cleared your throat. “Um …”
“Leave her alone, Mingyu,” Wonwoo groaned from the couch, turning away from them to lay on his side.
So this was Mingyu, you concluded. This slightly god-like dude that looked like he walked straight out of a porno was the only other person who’d help Wonwoo when he was blackout drunk. Interesting.
Mingyu raised his hand awkwardly for you to shake. “His roommate,” he clarified.
“Oh,” you replied, grasping his hand for a moment and telling him your name. 
Mingyu instantly grinned, laying the small towel over his neck, holding both ends. “So you’re her.”
You blinked, not knowing how to respond to that. Perhaps there was no way to respond; the silence was comfortable enough. You decided to keep that in mind for later though.
“He’s … well, he got very drunk,” you informed Mingyu, gesturing to a now-sleeping Wonwoo with both thumbs. “I wanted to make sure he got home okay.”
Mingyu nodded, and then sighed. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry,” he promised, opening up the door for you. “Get home safe, okay?”
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Wonwoo: Sorry about that the other night. I won’t get drunk like that again. It doesn’t happen very often
You: it’s okay! I’m used to handling drunk people
You: don’t get me wrong, I like to have my fun but it’s easier for me to take care of other people than like … be incoherent and anxious lol
Wonwoo: By the end of the night I was starting to feel that way. Not fun
You: DRINK WATER
You: your roommate is hot btw. does he always walk around without a shirt?
Wonwoo: Of course, he didn’t have a shirt on when you met him
Wonwoo: Everyone likes Mingyu
You: well, I like you [UNSENT]
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The bi-annual sales meeting was started to boost morale and talk with other departments that you didn’t see as often. It was typically held at a hotel in the downtown city, with the company flying in all the sales reps from across the country. There were even a few from overseas. In reality though, this was usually the week where coworkers made mistakes. At least one person was let go after these sales meetings, and HR had their eyes peeled for an entire week.
You never made a mistake at one of these. And you didn’t expect to any time soon.
This was a week of rubbing elbows with slimy sales reps and making sure some old man hadn’t spiked your drink. For most, this was a week to slack off, but a woman working in corporate couldn’t relax in these settings. You’d been making corrections to your boss’ presentation for the entire company for what felt like forever. (Realistically, it’d been almost two weeks.) You probably went through the 50 slides at least twice as much, checking for spelling mistakes and making sure it was in the right place on your desktop. Not on some random external hard drive. Not in the trash. 
But it was finally the day you’d been dreading. Presentation day, and everyone at the company was eager to hear the Boss reveal if they hit their goal for the year, amongst other things. You checked the slides another time, and then made sure no one would trip over the HDMI cord connected to the projector. The Boss gave you a reassuring smile, and then it was go time.
Your boss could be a shit bag – what CEO wasn’t? – but he had a way of speaking that made everyone so excited for the future. He was probably the reason why morale was always so high, and everyone looked forward to his presentation at these meetings. Your finger hovered over the right arrow button as he went through his speech, pointing out company statistics and what he wanted them all to accomplish this year, before finally getting to the goal reach. And his answer was nothing short of what the audience wanted to hear. He congratulated all of them, and everyone clapped together at the good news.
When you looked out at the crowd that had gathered, you realized almost every seat in the ballroom was filled. Some were even standing near the door and – wait, there was Wonwoo, leaning against the wall in the back. IT didn’t need to be here for this presentation. In fact, they were encouraged to be doing other things, like manning a table near HR and offering on-the-spot tech help. A smile made it’s way to your lips, watching the way Wonwoo was listening intently.
Once the presentation was over and the room erupted in small talk, your boss came over and thanked you for helping out yet again. “Of course,” you replied, as if there was anything else to say. He gave you a comforting squeeze of the hand before walking off to talk to some of his favorite sales reps.
As you shut your laptop and began to place your things in your backpack, Wonwoo slipped into the chair beside yours. Just the sight of his grin set you at ease, but also made you nervous at the same time. Why were you suddenly so nervous? This was just Wonwoo.
Just Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo. Just … your Wonwoo.
“Congratulations,” he beamed, giving you a high five. “I know you’ve been working on this all week, but you did it!”
You always stressed so much about this presentation, but at the end of the day … “All I did was press a button,” you shrugged.
Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but you didn’t accidentally delete your file like every other time you’ve messaged me on Slack.” He chuckled, and you scoffed at his teasing. “I’d call that a win.”
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The second to last night of sales meeting week was the longest night of the year. It was a tradition for everyone to go out to a bar the company rented out, drinking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on while celebrating a job well done. You only saw half these people twice a year, and half of the time they’d have a beer in their hands. 
You did your best to ignore every sales rep that tried to speak with you without slurring their words, but that was damn near impossible when some were already on their second cocktail. However, no matter how embarrassing it was, you did allow them to compliment you and your hard work. Who were you to turn down the validation? And when the time came, even your boss came over to compliment you again, and you realized there was truly nothing like being good at your job. 
Just for a moment, everything felt okay. It was like the loneliness dissipated, the sting of years without pleasure or having someone by your side … it all faded when you were rewarded for your hard work.
Maybe tonight was the night you had fun for once.
When you finally found Wonwoo later that night, he was surrounded by a few younger members of the IT team, debating what computer language everyone should be obligated to learn. You waved to him from where you stood by the bar top, and that was all it took to have him walking away from his team and towards you. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, insisting to buy you drinks for the rest of the night, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. If there was anyone here you trusted enough to hand you a drink, it was Wonwoo.
Just Wonwoo.
The hour was reaching midnight now, and you weren’t sure how many martinis you had, but you were hiccuping a storm. That was a telltale sign that you were totally, thoroughly drunk. Wonwoo was only drinking beer and pacing himself, unlike that night at the dive bar, but he was enjoying the sight of you finally letting loose. You hung on his arm, staring up at him with your big eyes, glazing over from all the alcohol coursing through your system. He didn’t like how this effected him; he shouldn’t be attracted to the way your gaze looked while you were intoxicated. But he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes held the same shine while your lips were wrapped around his –
No, this was too much. He should take you back to the hotel.
The two of you glanced around the bar, realizing it was mostly cleared out. You definitely needed to leave now.
He tugged on your arm, wrapping one of his around your waist to support you. “C’mon now,” he grunted, helping you walk out. “Let’s get you back.”
“I didn’t f–finish my drink thoooooough,” you argued, despite letting him lead you out of the bar. “And I can walk … on my own. Swear!”
“Listen, you took care of me once,” he said as you two walked into the brisk cold air. The hotel was, thankfully, only a block away. “Let me take care of you.”
Even with the alcohol pumping in your veins, just the sound of those words falling from his mouth made you grip him tighter. You felt like your bones were made of jelly, and it wasn’t just from the vodka. It was him, and the way he made you feel, and how secretly warm he was, and the way he took care of you as you took care of him, and – oh, god, you wanted to cry because you liked Jeon Wonwoo so much.
So, so much.
It was much easier to get you back to your hotel room than his apartment, seeing as this hotel had a working elevator. You slumped beside him, tripping over your feet every so often, as he hauled you down the hallway to your room. You gave him your keycard easily, and once the door was open, he squeezed your hand to silently let you know it was time to move again. He helped you into the room, shutting the door behind him, before laying you down on your bed with the clumsiness only he could have. 
You were laughing now, hiccuping from the alcohol, but laughing nonetheless. And he was laughing at your hiccups. Or maybe he just liked the way you grinned at him.
He assisted with taking off your boots and jacket, too embarrassed to remove anything else. And it definitely wasn’t appropriate to either. Tearing back the covers, he nestled you underneath them, and said, “You got everything, right? I’m a call away if you need me.” He grabbed one of the small trash cans in the room and placed it at your bedside. “If you need to vomit and can’t make it to the bathroom, just use the trash can here –”
You hand came out to wrap around his forearm. “Stay, Wonwoo.”
Your sleepy eyes were killing him, making his inhibitions melt and his cock throb at the same time. He sighed, sitting on the side of the mattress, and before he could stop himself, he was tucking hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t do that,” he said, his voice like a caress. “You know how it would look if someone saw me leave this room tomorrow morning. HR is on all our asses this week.”
“I know,” you slurred, and then pressed your flushed cheek into his palm. “I j–just thought you … were taking care of me thoooooooough …”
His resolve crumbled into a million pieces. This was complete, utter torture. You had to know how you effected him, but of course you didn’t, because you were stretching under the covers and yawning like you didn’t just make his heart stop. 
That’s how he ended up in your bed, shutting off the lights and settling underneath the comforter. Until you came closer and rested your head on his chest. Despite how fast his heart was beating, he felt so at peace, and you both fell asleep in the clothes you wore out tonight.
Only a few hours later, you woke with a clear head and the beginning of a hangover. Your head was pounding like crazy, and it took everything in you to slip out from the comfort of your bed and pad your feet over to the bathroom. The bright light was burning your eyes, but you needed it to find the Tylenol you left by the sink. Filling a cup with water, you took the medication and prayed it worked sooner rather than later.
You squinted at yourself in the mirror, realizing you were still in the outfit you wore yesterday. With a sigh, you picked up the big t-shirt you left on the floor yesterday morning and stripped yourself until you were in nothing but your underwear. You pulled the t-shirt on and slumped against the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold tile. Now this felt like heaven for your headache.
It took a couple of minutes to get yourself to move again, feet slapping against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom. You noticed Wonwoo was awake too, in the midst of slinking back under the covers, and you saw his jeans abandoned by his bedside.You crawled back to your cocoon of blankets, and he instantly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And you … you didn’t move away. In fact, you pressed yourself closer, finally hearing how his heart raced. Wonwoo didn’t care if it was probably 4 AM and he probably had to leave in a few hours – before anyone else woke – because he was holding you and smelling you hair. You smelled … god, you smelled so good that it made him hard almost instantly.
You felt his hand splay against your spine, as if trying to hold himself back, and it was then that your eyes opened. The room was dark, but you knew when his gaze was burning into yours only seconds later. You slipped one hand out from the covers, cupping his cheek as your thumb brushed over his lower lip. Under his breath, he muttered a soft, “Shit,” because you both knew where this was going.
You agreed you wouldn’t do this again. You agreed to be friends.
But now you’re kissing again.
Your hand moved from his face to his neck, and his hands are gripping your cheeks to make sure your mouth stayed on his. His fingers were shaking. He kissed you desperately, as if he needed this just to be able to breathe again, and maybe he did. You were like putty in his hands, molding yourself to his body as your tongue tangled with his. Whatever ache you felt in your temples drifted between your legs, causing you to moan into his mouth. And fuck, just the sound of you made his cock swell, precum soaking through his boxers.
The room felt so hot all of a sudden, but your cold hands came in handy as they rested on his neck. His left hand slid down to your ass, finally giving it a firm squeeze after kicking himself for not doing it when he first kissed you. That made you moan again, and he decided he’d never stop touching you like this, just so he could hear these sounds fall from your lips.
He slid his knee between your legs on instinct, and you didn’t hesitate to start grinding against his thigh. The friction felt delicious and soothing. You both kissed each other slower, a little messier, focusing on touching each other everywhere you dreamed about all these months. Your fingers traced down the column of his neck, down the thin cotton of the shirt he was still wearing from yesterday, while bucking against his thigh. His lips left yours, dragging across your cheek so he could nibble on your earlobe, feeling it grow warm and red from all the attention. “You have no idea how long I’ve needed you,” he whispered, and you damn near almost came from that confession.
You weren’t used to this; you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced pleasure like this with someone, but you couldn’t imagine stopping. Not when he angled his thigh just right, the muscle in his leg rubbing against your clit, your panties completely soaked. You cupped him over his boxers, feeling his bulge throb in your palm, and you cooed, “Can I …”
He groaned. You didn’t need to say more; Wonwoo was smart enough to know what you were insinuating. He felt disoriented, drunk off of you and your touch, smell, everything. “Are you … are you sure you don’t want to …” His voice was giving out, but from the way your fingers were slipping under the waistband of his boxers, you knew you wanted just this, and he’d give you whatever you wanted. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s fine,” he finished.
You chuckled softly. He smiled against your neck. Pulling his cock out and wrapping your palm around it, you began to stroke him slowly. “Oh, god,” he was sighing into the crook of your neck, his brain in such a state of disarray when you resumed grinding against his leg while also pumping him from base to tip. This couldn’t be real; he had to be dreaming, but he could feel your wet panties sticking to his thigh. He could feel himself shake as he clung to you and pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your throat. It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. 
“Wonwoo,” you whimpered, and he dragged his lips back to yours just to feel how your mouth moved when you said his name. You bucked your hips faster, your arousal coating his thigh, and warmth bloomed between your legs. When your hand on his cock reached his head again, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over his slit, making more precum bead onto your knuckles. “Wanna cum with you,” you begged, stroking him faster and in time with your hips.
“I know you do, I know,” he breathed against your lips. “Just a little faster … yes, just like that. Fuck.”
Only a moment later were you trembling, hips stuttering as pleasure took over your body. You came hard, squeezing his thigh between your legs, and your cry was swallowed by Wonwoo’s lips. If he didn’t kiss you, he knew he’d moan so loud it would wake the entire hotel. Because – oh, god, he was cumming now, and he was sighing against your mouth as he erupted in your hand, ropes of cum staining your t-shirt. He could’ve swore he saw white. He’d never felt a release like this before; not with anyone else. Not even when he jerked off. But maybe it was because this was your hand and you were cumming on his leg, and fuck –
You were still shaking in each other’s arms, minds blank and reeling, bodies coming down from the high. It took the kind of strength that moved mountains to slip from his arms and clean yourself up. But by the time you came back from the bathroom and cuddled up next to him, Wonwoo was already fast asleep.
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Jeon Wonwoo [6:08 AM]: I had to leave early this morning before anyone woke. But if you want, I’d like to see you at breakfast this morning :)
You [7:31 AM]: Jeon Wonwoo, I’m begging you to just text this to me
You [7:31 AM]: Also, was your phone hacked? Since when do you use emojis?
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There wasn’t much to do on the last day of sales meeting week. The only things on your plate were to make niceties with some of the new reps, and probably attend a few presentations by HR. When you had finally woken up this morning to just you in the bed, you almost considered skipping the HR presentations, feeling too guilty and like they might see right through you. It was irrational, but you were sure that this was the only way to feel after realizing that you hooked up with your coworker and friend. 
Not that you hadn’t wanted to. Not that you hadn’t been thinking about it since your kiss. No, it wasn’t like that at all.
So why were suddenly terrified to see him at breakfast?
You got ready as quick as you could – but of course, making sure you wore that V-neck sweater that showed off your cleavage just right – and threw your hair up before leaving your hotel room. The line for the breakfast buffet was packed, but you waited patiently and decided to sit near the bar once you plate was full. The rest of the dining room was filled with people and you weren’t awake enough to make shitty small talk. Sitting here at the bar top was peaceful and quiet –
“Is this … seat taken?”
Your eyes met his instantly, and you noticed the way Wonwoo was cringing at the line he threw at you. You decided to forget it, for his sake, and gestured for him to sit down. Fuck, you were so goddamn nervous, even though you had agreed to meet him in the first place. You wore this low-cut sweater for him. You both sat in silence for a bit, crunching awkwardly on the burnt bacon, and shifting in your seats. 
“Did you …” You were surprised that your mouth was moving on it’s own volition, spilling any words that came to your head. “… Do anything this morning since you were up early?”
Wonwoo choked a bit on a strawberry, but recovered quickly. “Uh … yeah, yeah, sure. Once I came down here, one of the IT interns found me in a panic because he couldn’t set up one of the rep’s new work phones. Created a whole scene over nothing.”
You snorted and sipped your coffee. “Is that intern still breathing?”
His eyes flickered to yours, a slow smile growing on his face. “Yes, actually.”
You fell into sync then, letting the awkward silence melt away as you joked about Wonwoo’s interns. He wasn’t meant to teach college students, god help them. But as your plates became empty and a server came around to take them, you two were left with only the mugs in your hands, strangely reminiscent of that apology coffee he bought for you so long ago.
Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, so about last night – or I guess, this morning …”
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you interjected, setting your coffee down. “I have a hangover, but I am thriving.”
He blinked. “Well, that’s good. But I was referring to –”
You almost couldn’t look at him when you said, “The fact that we’re definitely not just friends anymore?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that part.”
“I …” You licked your lips as you gathered yourself. There was this … terrifying flutter in your chest. You’d never felt something like this before, but you weren’t keen on letting it go. Not yet. “I would like to see you again. Like that. Definitely not during work hours. If you catch my drift. This is awkward.”
Wonwoo had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see him trying to hold in his laughter, but it was clear as day. You sighed loud and hit his arm, making him look at you once again as he snickered to himself. “You know, you could just ask me if I want to hang out.”
You leveled a look at him and huffed. “Okay, Wonwoo, do you –”
“Yes,” he beamed. “Always, yes.”
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You found yourself at Wonwoo’s side more often than not. What used to be work get togethers transitioned to meeting up at a bar, or checking a new restaurant on the weekends. Sometimes he’d ask you to come over so you could taste test a new recipe he found. (Unfortunately for both of you, Wonwoo wasn’t very good at cooking, but he was getting better. Somewhat.) Those recipe nights, however, always led to him lifting you up on his creaky kitchen counter and kissing you so hard that you almost forgot to breathe. Until Mingyu came into the kitchen, making a gagging sound, and you two instantly detached from each other.
Friday nights were known as Mingyu’s Movie Nights, and Wonwoo began inviting you to those. He had said that this would help knock a few movies off your Letterboxd Watchlist, but you knew that was just an excuse for wanting to see you. You probably saw him more than anyone now, but you couldn’t deny that you … wanted to see him too. Having him in your life made everything suddenly better. He was kind and smart and thoughtful. He made you laugh in ways you couldn’t explain, and obviously … he didn’t have to do much to make you want him. He’d simply have to look at you and you’d get on his lap. If Mingyu wasn’t there, of course.
Wonwoo seemed to blossomed with you. He was more excited to leave his apartment, more eager to become a better cook. He spoke up often, whether it be at work or out with you, rather than letting someone talk. He wanted to learn all the things that you liked, wanted to touch you exactly where you needed it, wanted to find new ways to leave you breathless. Because it was for you.
Even Mingyu noticed a difference in his friend. He’d known Wonwoo for so many years now, but he’d never made this much of a change for anyone. One night, when you and Mingyu were alone in the kitchen, he mentioned, “He’s different around you.” And then kept pouring wine in three glasses while Wonwoo picked a movie from the living room.
There were also times where Wonwoo was a booty call, of course, and neither of you had any problems with that. Some nights, Wonwoo would call you after Mingyu went to bed, begging you to come over, but ended up settling for phone sex. His attraction to you in stockings only went up, and it was difficult for him to contain his arousal at work when you strutted around just knowing how it affected him. There was days where all he wanted to do was pull you into a janitor closet and fuck the living daylights out of you. But it wasn’t like you’d let him anyway.
You had your fair share of desperate moments too. Especially tonight, as you were out drinking with your friends at a local spot you’d been coming to for years. The live band was loud and you’d had your fair share of shitty margaritas already. One of your friends was tugging on the arm of some rando she met on the dance floor, yelling over the music that she was leaving and she’d text you when she was home safe. That left you shit out of luck for a ride home, and suddenly very lonely. The last thing you wanted was to drink alone at a shitty bar on a Saturday night.
Wandering outside, your heeled boots crunched in the snow as you looked for the nearest Uber. The fastest one around would take over 20 minutes to get to you, and as you looked around the empty city streets … wait, didn’t Wonwoo live around here? Maybe all the tequila was just getting to you. But you called him anyway, and despite the time reaching 1 AM, he answered instantly. He heard the slight lisp in your voice, and once he got out of you exactly where you were, he realized you were right. It only took him about 10 minutes to get to where you were, parking on the side of the road. 
He sighed at the sight of you sitting on the curb, shivering and hugging your jacket around you. Various drunk people filtered in and out of the bar, but none of them checked on you – a freezing girl just sitting on the side of the road. “Why didn’t you wait inside for me?” He asked, his breath hot against your cheek when he pulled you up in his arms. Your dress rode up a little, and his hands were quick to yank it back down. “It’s the middle of winter.”
“I jusssst thought … the cold air would sssssober me up,” you slurred, letting him place you in his passenger seat before running back over to the driver’s side. His car was warm, making you bury yourself in your jacket, but his hand on your thigh was even warmer somehow. If your fingers weren’t so cold, you’d wrap your hand around his wrist, inching his palm up higher as he drove.
Once he was parked, he wasted no time getting you out and helping you up the stairs to his apartment. Mingyu was passed out on the couch, an old movie from the 80s playing on the TV, but you could hardly register it because your brain was spinning and Wonwoo was practically dragging you to his bedroom. He was grateful that all the lights were off so you couldn’t see how messy it was, but honestly, it was a miracle if you could see anything clearly right now.
He sat you down on the bed and you looked up at him with bleary eyes, which made you so fucking hard to resist. All the tequila you drank was pumping through your bloodstream, and you couldn’t help but fist your hands in his t-shirt and try to kiss him. He evaded your lips though – no matter how much he wanted to – and you whined, “Whyyyyyy won’t you kiss me?”
“Shhh …” He whispered, yanking off your boots. “Inside voice. Mingyu’s sleeping.”
You smacked your hands against his mattress. “He’s sleeping in the living room!”
Wonwoo got back to his feet, gesturing as he instructed, “Arms up.” You were too intoxicated to do anything but oblige, lifting your arms as he struggled to pull your dress over your head. Once it was off and thrown to the side with your boots, your hazy vision caught him looking through his drawers for clothes for you to wear. But didn’t he just take your clothes off? You could’ve sworn he did that because he wanted you too right now.
You protested when he tried putting you in one of his simple white tees, but your body felt too limp to fight. He slipped the shirt over your head before pulling back his comforter and wrapping you in it. With your eyes half open, you watched him come to the other side of the bed, yanking his pants down and crawling in bed beside you. He reached over you and set his glasses on the side table. You sighed dramatically. Now he was just torturing you. Wonwoo simply chuckled to himself, realizing what you were angry about.
His arms instantly wound around you, his lips pulled into a smile at your hairline. You looked up at him with a scowl and your voice slurred, “Whysss your eyes closed?”
Wonwoo snickered under his breath. “Because it’s late and I’m tired.” His hand on your lower back traced circles, attempting to coax you to sleep.
“I thought you wanted meeeee,” you complained. Your hand reached in between you two, smoothing your palm against his groin as he slowly started to harden under your touch. You heard his breath hitch slightly, so you kept going, a soft ache beginning between your own legs at just the thought of putting him in your mouth. 
“Sweetheart, I always want you.” He then grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from him, and then lacing your fingers together. Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, he sighed sleepily, “But you’re much sexier when you’re sober.”
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You started to realize why you didn’t usually do this, why it had been so long since you let someone see every part of you. What you looked like completely stripped down – both inside and out – completely vulnerable for your person. How your face contorted during pleasure, and how it relaxed when you were taken care of.
Catching feelings like this meant giving up control.
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You didn’t work on the weekends unless you had to, and when the Boss sent you a high priority email on Saturday morning, you didn’t hesitate. He had transferred over a bunch of sensitive files that were needed for a board presentation first thing Monday morning. But of course, something just had to go wrong: the files were corrupted and you had no way of figuring out what to do. And it wasn’t like your boss was on call like you were on a Saturday.
This was how you ended up at Wonwoo’s apartment.
You had called him in a panic, explaining what had went wrong, but he didn’t seem too fazed. He was used to your tech emergencies by now. But by the time you got to his apartment, out of breath after running from the train station, he had realized just how serious you were taking this. You both sat down on his couch and you let him work his magic. His fingers moved across the keys as if he were a musician, and you couldn’t stop biting your nail nervously.
Mingyu came back to the apartment after grocery shopping, waving at you before putting all the food away. Seeing as you were here, maybe they could all go out and have fun tonight. He went into the living room, ready to mention a band that was playing at a local venue later, but upon seeing the stressed look on both your faces, he exhaled. “It’s a Saturday,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Why do you two look like that?”
“Corrupted documents,” Wonwoo answered quickly, not even looking up from the monitor. 
“I don’t even want to know more,” he said, grabbing his leather jacket from the coat rack and tugging his arms through the sleeves. “Just your faces are making me anxious. I’m heading out. Don’t wait up.”
You gave Mingyu a wave as he left, but Wonwoo was too focused to even say goodbye. It took about another hour and one cup of coffee, but Wonwoo eventually figured out how to uncorrupt the files. You let out a sigh of relief as he handed the laptop back to you and you were able to open each of them without issue. Thank god, you had managed to figure this out before Monday morning. And … having Wonwoo wasn’t too bad either.
“Thank you,” you beamed, not being able to resist pinching his cheek. “My hero.”
Silence engulfed the room as you both noticed how the sky was already getting dark. You cleared your throat, slipping your laptop back into your bag and muttering, “Thanks again. I know I kind of barged in and wasted your Saturday afternoon –”
Like the saint he was, Wonwoo simply smiled at you. “No time with you is a waste.”
Whatever words you were about to say clogged in your throat. You swallowed hard, attempting to hide your fluster, but you ended up choking out, “I … should go.”
“You don’t have to.” He stood from the couch, walking over to you and running his hands down your arms. His brow lifted. “Do you want to?”
You let the strap of your bag fall to the floor as your hands cupped his neck. “No, not particularly.”
Wonwoo chuckled, leaning in and letting his lips just lightly graze yours. “We have the place to ourselves,” he hummed, slowly dragging you backwards with him. “Mingyu’s gone … probably won’t be back until midnight.”
You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, letting him lead you to his room, as limp as a rag doll. Once he shut his bedroom door behind you, he flicked the light on. You pressed your back against the door and your eyes roamed around the space. This was the first time you saw his bedroom with the light on; every other time had been pitch black. You liked that his walls weren’t bare – they were filled with posters of his favorite musicians or photographs. On his desk was a large monitor and a gaming set up, but also a camera with stacks of film next to it. His furniture was old – probably from the 90s, probably passed down from his family – but the scratches within the wood told a story. And unlike most men, his sheets were gray.
Wonwoo realized you were scanning his room, and he became acutely aware of the clothes scattered amongst his floor. He muttered something to himself, beginning to pick up the clothes piles and chuck them into his hamper. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I inherited the organized gene like Mingyu.”
You tilted your head, striding over and pulling him up, making him halt his actions. Your hands went to his face as you brought him closer. With a smile, you whispered, “I don’t want to talk about Mingyu,” before pressing your lips to his.
The kiss became deep far too quickly, or maybe time was passing faster than usual. Your lips crashed so hard against his that they’d bruise. He took off his glasses, setting them on his drawer, before his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans. You stepped forward, making him step back, then another, and another – until you had him falling back on his bed. You straddled him, arching your back so you could lick into his mouth just how he liked. Hands sliding up his shirt, you felt his abdomen flex underneath you. His fingers in your belt loops jerked you closer, pressing your hips to his, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning into the kiss.
You smiled against his mouth, dragging your lips down his neck, and then even further, as you slinked down his body. Your eyes were trained on his, and he was trying his best not to look like a complete idiot in front of you. But it was difficult when you were looking at him with those eyes and – oh, now you were pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants, practically salivating when you noticed how hard he was already.
But … this was what you guys always did. Not that he had an issue with you giving him blow jobs, but none of this felt particularly intimate. You never really let him worship you; you took control of the entire situation. As if you were bringing your professional stubbornness to the bedroom.
“Wait,” he choked out as you palmed his growing bulge. “Can we … can we try something different?”
Your brows furrowed and you continued pressing sloppy kisses above his groin. “Why would we do that?”
Wonwoo let out a frustrated sound, and before you could prepare yourself, he was yanking his pants back up and pinning you underneath him. You blinked up at him in surprise, and he was gripping your wrists above your head now, his bodyweight pressing you into the mattress. He almost looked shocked that he had the strength to push you back, but his blown-out pupils gave away his true desire.
“What was that for?” You asked incredulously. Nerves clouded your thoughts, making you stutter. “I thought … I thought you liked …”
“No, trust me, I do,” he assured you, and then tipped his head as he gazed down at you. “I just … why won’t you let me take care of you?”
You scoffed then, trying to cover up how petrifying this conversation was becoming. Were you that transparent now, or did he simply know you far too well for your own good?
“I have no idea what you’re –”
Wonwoo gave you one of his infamous leveled looks, and you sighed. “You’re in constant need of seeking control when it’s always at your fingertips. It’s okay to let it go; it won’t slip away.” He let go of your wrists then, but kept his body hovering over yours, holding himself up by his elbows resting near your head. “Please, just … surrender it for once. Let me take the lead.”
You glanced down at your hands on your chest, twiddling your thumbs. Eventually, you murmured, “It’s hard. I’ve never done that before.”
“Can we try? I like …” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then let his head fall as he chuckled to himself. “This is so awkward. I just – I like prioritizing your pleasure. It feels much better for me and I think it will for you too. And if you don’t like it –”
“I’m not good with change,” you blurted.
“I know,” he whispered, his voice taking on that husky tone that made warmth pool in your stomach. His eyes flickered to your lips now, noticing how swollen they still were. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. It was just a suggestion, and I probably ruined the mood.”
You shook your head immediately, allowing your fingers to tenderly sweep over his shirt. “No, I …” A voice in the back of your head told you this was a good thing, and you did want this, but the fear of change was overwhelming. You wanted to step out of your comfort zone, desperately, for once. You were allowed to do this; you were allowed to be happy. 
Your gaze met his again. “I want to try.”
His eyes softened with affection, but then he asked, “You’re not just agreeing for my sake, right?”
“Now when have I ever done that?” You laughed, making him smile along with you. 
But as soon as his mouth met yours, that awkward, giggling persona seemed to melt away. Jeon Wonwoo morphed into an entirely different person, someone that possessed your jaw in his large hand, pulling at your bottom lip before kissing you harder. It was enough to leave you gasping for air once he pulled away, spit connecting you two, and he continued to suck and nip his way down your throat. He made sure to leave marks in places that could be covered up for work, but he’d know exactly where they were. God, would he even be able to control himself at his desk, knowing where his bites were hiding under your clothes? 
Tugging your sweater over your head, he practically whined at the sight of your breasts, constricted in the bra that you told him was too old once, but you kept wearing it anyway because he said it was cute. He lifted you for a moment, expertly removing it with one hand, before licking the valley between your breasts. You arched into him, sighing into your arm when he swirled his tongue around your taut nipple. He glanced up and realized you were hiding your face, so he pushed your hand off. “I want you to look at me while I do this,” he cooed, but it sounded more like a demand.
Despite the embarrassment, you did as he asked, feeling completely bewitched as you watched him cup the swell of your breast, tugging on your nipple. This felt like a goddamn Pornhub video. You two have had sex before, yes, but not like this. Never like this. Wonwoo had always let you do what you were comfortable with, keeping his other side at bay while you rode him hard on the couch. But this … this felt like something else entirely. The way he was lavishing both your nipples, coating them with his spit, demanding you to watch … Expletives filtered softly from your mouth, wetness gathering between your thighs. It suddenly felt too hot and your jeans were still on.
Wonwoo was taking his time with you though, and it was very clear to you that this wouldn’t just be one of those nights where you had sex for 10 minutes before ordering pizza. When he lifted his mouth from your left nipple, he asked calmly, “Do you like this or do you want more?”
You sneered, “Well, of course, I like –”
His hand came up instantly to pinch your other nipple, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that came out of your mouth. “No teasing,” he said, lowering his head to flick that nipple with his tongue. “Just answer me.”
“More,” you choked out, your hips arching off the bed, seeking friction. “Please, more.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss between your breasts once again, before lowering himself down your body. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his lips down your stomach. Eventually, he had to stand from the bed so he could finally unzip your pants, tugging when they got stuck around your ankles. When the cold air hit between your legs, you realized how soaked you were already. Wonwoo smirked to himself, slowly rolling your panties down your legs.
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you joked, kicking your panties off into a pile by his bed. 
He lifted your ankle, nipping playfully, and replied, “Told you that you’d like me taking the lead.”
You rolled your eyes as he settled between your thighs, bending your knees back so your feet rested beside his head. You bit your lip as he placed sloppy kisses on your inner thigh, biting hard enough to make a bruise. Wonwoo fought hard to maintain a sense of composure, but god, the sight of your pretty pussy oozing slick made him wonder if he could cum untouched. You had let him finger you before, but had never been in the mood for this. And this was something Wonwoo had been fantasizing about since the day he noticed that tear in your stockings. He could jump for joy if that didn’t make him look like an absolute fucking loser.
He pushed your folds apart with two fingers, running a hand down his face as he attempted to school his expression. It was just so fucking hard to act cool when you were this aroused. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead, deciding to quip, “Wonwoo, can you even find the clit without your glasses on –”
Without warning, he spit on your pussy and buried his face between your thighs. The words died on your tongue immediately, and you let out the loudest whine he’d ever heard in his life. He smiled, but that didn’t deter him from circling his tongue around your clit. He wound one of his arms around your thigh, holding you in place as he pressed his face further.
Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucked and drew out the prettiest sounds from you, using his free hand to slip two fingers inside you. You tasted exactly like he dreamed about, sweet and tangy and so unmistakably you. He looked up at you from between your legs, curling his fingers in the spot that made tears prick at your eyes, and when your gaze found his, it was like something in him snapped. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled, feasting at you like he’d been starved for days. 
Your fingers were in his hair now, pressing his head more into you, which only made this more enjoyable for him. He nearly came in his pants when your hips began to buck against his face, but this was about you. And him experiencing you cumming on his face. But mostly you. His fingers pumped faster inside you and his tongue was now flicking your clit, allowing more of your arousal to invade his mouth. He’d never get tired of this taste; he was obsessed. Now that he finally got a taste of you … he never wanted to not be doing this. Never wanted his face too far from the apex of your legs. Not when you had the sweetest taste that could move heaven and earth between these thighs.
And when you finally came on his tongue, he noticed that your legs shook like an earthquake. Your essence flooded his mouth, and he moaned – god, did he moan – lapping at you, never missing a drop of what you gave him. His fingers kept curling inside of you, making your orgasm feel like forever. When he finally removed them with a wet pop, he didn’t miss the opportunity to have more of you, wrapping his mouth around those two fingers and licking off the last of your release. You watched him, completely mesmerized by the way he savored you, even darting his tongue out to capture the whatever seeped out of you. Your hips jolted, suddenly so sensitive, and he grinned up at you.
You hardly caught your breath before he crawling up your body, kissing you hard and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands fisted in his t-shirt, and when you ripped your lips away from his, you arched a brow. “You are still fully clothed,” you reminded, and then swiped at the spit lining his bottom lip.
Wonwoo simply smiled, ghosting his lips over yours before trailing them to your ear. “I’m getting to that part. Patience,” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe. “You must really want me inside you.”
“I want to not be the only one naked.”
“Say it,” he prodded in a weirdly casual tone.
“What?”
“Say you want me inside you.”
“This is ridiculous –”
He lifted his head from your jawline. “I can easily leave this room and order a pizza,” he teased, and you blinked at him. He was actually being serious. He would completely ignore what looked like a throbbing erection in his pants, just to make a point. You knew he wasn’t trying to be mean; he wanted to get you out of your comfort zone. This was so stupid, because you did want him inside you. Embarrassingly so. He had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life, but you still had this … aching need to be filled. Your cheeks heated just at the thought of it.
“I …” Your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to make your whole face turn bright red. With a sigh, your eyes connected again, and you answered, “I want you inside me, Wonwoo.”
He rewarded you with a kiss, pulling away before it could get too heated again, and stood from the bed. “Well, when you ask nicely …” He smiled, that dominating demeanor slipping for a moment as he pulled his shirt off. You’d never get tired of the way Wonwoo looked without a shirt. He didn’t let anyone see it very often – he wasn’t like his roommate – but the moments he did, you felt eternally grateful. His torso was toned, with defined abs and pecks that made your mind boggle. You liked that his arms were long and muscled; his hands large and slightly calloused. 
You liked everything about him.
When he finally went to kick off his sweatpants, he noticed a large precum stain on the gray fabric from just eating you out. Which was probably the biggest jab to his calm and collected attitude right now, but he didn’t let it slip. He simply threw the sweatpants to the side, coming up close to the bed again, where your legs were now hanging off the edge. You gazed up at him as if he held the world in his palms, watching the way he reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, never used to the size. He was slightly thicker than average, but long. Longer than you ever expected. With a pretty pink head leaking sticky precum.
It was killing you how long he was taking. Your legs shifted, ready to make a move to yank him underneath you, but he was faster than you. He pinned your wrists about your head with one hand this time, using his other to keep a firm grip on his cock. “You want to be in control that badly, huh?” He asked, tilting his head.
His hand was moving up and down his shaft now, letting precum dribble on your stomach. Your eyes flickered from his cock back to his eyes. “I just … I need you, Wonwoo,” you begged, your voice taking on a new tone. And somehow … wanting him so bad like this was ten times more arousing than riding him on the couch. “Please, please, Wonwoo. Please, fuck me.”
Your pleas had him falling apart, and he sighed, letting go of your wrists to discard his boxers too. His cock flopped against his stomach, hard and aching and – fuck, had he always been veiny? He got on top of you again, cooing against your lips, “I know, baby, I know.” His rubbed the underside of his length against your wet folds, moaning at the slightest bit of friction. “I’ll fuck you real good. I promise.”
Pressing the head of his cock at your entrance, his breath hitched at just the feeling of your arousal coating his shaft. You both had never taken your time with sex. But he was doing that tonight now that he was in control, letting himself slowly push inside you, feel you completely stretch open for him. You mewled, slinking your arms around his neck and carding your fingers at the nape. And when he finally buried himself to the hilt, his lips fell open and he groaned. You felt so good he could cum right now, but he needed to get a grip. The last thing he needed was to cum too fast.
Not that you would like him any less if he did.
“Wonwoo,” you cried, your hips arching up to meet his. “Please.”
Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance-like state he was in. He settled more on top of you, resting his elbows on both sides of your head, and pulled all the way out so only the tip remained. You whined at the emptiness, which soon changed to a gasp when he bullied his cock back in. Your fingers tugged at his hair; your legs crossed around his waist, drawing him deeper inside. “Fuck,” he muttered, still feeling how tight you were, how you molded yourself for him. “So fucking … god, so wet.”
His restraint could only last so long. He’d gotten his fill of feeling you adjust around him. He couldn’t take this anymore, or he was going to cum before you both had even started. With a deep breath, he set a brutal pace inside of you, his hips snapping forward. Tears rolled down your cheeks; how could something feel so good that you cried? Wonwoo seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he was burying his face in the crook of your neck and groaning, “God, so good … you feel so good … how can anyone feel this good?”
The only word you could choke out was, “Ditto,” which you’d regret for hours after this. But now was not the time.
He was fucking into you so hard that you were already sore, but you were holding onto him for dear life, clinging to him as that warmth burned in your gut. The way his cock curved and grazed your g-spot perfectly, making you tremble and whimper his name like a prayer. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling how deep his cock nestled inside you, and you noticed him shiver in your arms. He was trying desperately to fight off his release. That coil in your gut began to tighten, and from the way Wonwoo was breathing, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted you to cum first though – like always – wanted to feel you clamp around him, squeeze him so tight that he saw white. 
So he did what he did best: reached in between your bodies, finding your swollen, sensitive clit so easily, and rubbed slow circles. He lifted his head from your neck, wanting to see that familiar look in your eyes when you saw stars. “Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice was so deep that it reverberated against your chest.
And finally, as he pressed his thumb down hard and pushed into you just right, you felt your orgasm crest. “Fuck, Wonwoo,” you sobbed, body shaking as you came undone. 
But Wonwoo wasn’t stopping. He kept fucking into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And when your walls squeezed him so tight, he buried himself completely and came hard, a generous amount of fucks leaving his lips. His cheek pressed against yours; his groans muffled by the comforter. You held him close as he filled you to the brink with his release, and it almost felt like hours before he realized he finished. 
You exhaled together, allowing your heart rates to settle. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then to your nose, and now he was kissing all over your face. Your cheeks instantly tinged pink, but you let him do as he pleased. He didn’t even make a move off you, letting his cock soften inside your warmth. When your eyes opened, he was staring down at you like you were the sun. You searched his eyes, “What?”
His dark gaze flickered to your lips for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you really say, ‘Ditto,’ during sex?”
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You and Wonwoo had gotten into a routine. Of course, you saw him 5 days out of the week at work, but you wanted more of him. You figured out Mingyu’s schedule, coming over most nights when he wasn’t home – besides Mingyu’s Movie Nights. You would let Wonwoo cook for you, and he promised he was getting better, before he led you to his room with kisses to your neck and a firm grip on your hand. 
He always went with whatever you were comfortable with, but you found yourself letting him take the lead more often than not. You liked letting him prioritize you; you liked being selfish with him. Giving up control felt … much better than anticipated. Everything about this felt too good to be true. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you didn’t want to spoil it by asking him the dreaded, “What are we?” For now, you’d exist in your safe little bubble, where he would smile at you at work and then fuck your brains out after hours. It felt perfect, simple.
You approached sex through a different lens now. Instead of simply riding him on that godforsaken old couch, you let him go at his own pace: placing you on his lap, having his way with you and making you cum at least 3 times before he sunk you down on his cock, bouncing you up and down as you clung to him, practically letting him use you as a flesh light. Even when he let you sit on his face, it was on his terms: his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark, trying to suffocate himself with your pussy, not allowing you to cum until he said so, no matter how much you needed to. But it felt too good to stop. You didn’t want this to stop. You liked the lack of control, liked the way he took care of you. The way he bent your knees back as he slid into you, keeping eye contact, so you’d feel him that much deeper … the way he could feast on you for hours, never getting enough of your taste … there was something about it that made you feel more than beautiful. 
Especially when he looked at you as if you were his world.
Especially when he fucked into you and you realized you might be in love with him.
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You tended to get lost in thought while laying in bed on an early morning. The birds chirped outside, your phone chimed along with each new notification. Curling underneath your comforter, you held your pounding head, reminiscing on last Sunday. You had gone over Wonwoo’s apartment and he had surprised you with a spaghetti dinner. Mingyu promised that it was “more edible than usual” before he left you two alone in the apartment.
You had noticed the shine in Wonwoo’s eyes, how excited he was to do this for you. He had never bothered to learn anything for anyone, but all he wanted to do was please you. To make you happy. And you could see that in the way he gazed at you, making your stomach do flip flops. Letting him have all this control over you, letting him see past the fortress you’d kept up for who knows how long … it was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.
He taught you how to play his favorite video game after dinner, placing you in between his legs on the couch and letting you lean back against his broad chest. His arms cocooned around you, nestling your body in his embrace. Sometimes he would nibble on your ear as you fought to maintain hand-eye coordination with the controller. Eventually, you had given up and asked to watch him, but that led to his hand dropping the controller as the enemy killed him off. And then his fingers were slowly slipping down the waistband of your leggings, rubbing your slit over your panties. You had arched into him, your ass pressing against his hardening erection as he pulled your panties to the side, already finding you wet and ready for his touch. He chuckled in your ear, “How long have you been thinking about this?” His index finger rubbed tight circles on your clit, and all that you could formulate for a response was a moan as he –
You cut yourself off from the memory before it could end you.
Your stomach churned. Despite your better judgement, you had completely fallen head-over-heels for senior IT specialist, Jeon Wonwoo, and that was terrifying. He had seen your personality unfold, seen the most vulnerable parts of you. But nothing was more scary than admitting to yourself how much you liked him, maybe even loved. You were frantic to the point of exhaustion, so stressed that you felt sick. Soon you were shivering, your head pounding as a fever came on, and you stayed home from work for a few days. Your phone notifications be damned – you stayed in your bedroom with the blinds closed, sleeping the days away.
Every so often, you would hear your phone chime. Your phone screen would light up with another text message. But … you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. This behavior was illogical and stupid; you just simply couldn’t help yourself. You were an avoidant. The only thing you knew how to do was slowly push him away before he saw all the layers underneath your carefully crafted facade.
What if he finally saw how anxious you were all the time?
What if he knew how you secretly craved to be loved your entire life, but you looked for it elsewhere, in places like workplace praise or crowded bars where you couldn’t see another person’s face?
What if he knew you weren’t as organized up in your head as you were at your desk?
Or worse … what if he didn’t like you back?
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TUESDAY, APRIL 22
Wonwoo: What’s going on?
Wonwoo: I managed to find out that you’re sick. I can make you soup, if you want? I know my cooking is terrible. But what if this time it’s good and it cures you?
Wonwoo: If I threaten to message you on Slack, will that make you reply?
Wonwoo: I promise I won’t. Unless … lol
Wonwoo: You’re not dead, right?
Wonwoo: Please, answer me.
FRIDAY, APRIL 25
UNKNOWN: hey, it’s Mingyu. I found your number in Wonwoo’s phone. he’s really messed up right now and worrying about you.
UNKNOWN: idk what’s going on between you two, but I don’t like seeing him like this.
UNKNOWN: just … call him. or text him. or something.
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Jeon Wonwoo [10:13 AM]: Did your computer die and you need a new charger?
Jeon Wonwoo [3:21 PM]: I miss you.
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When you finally returned to work, it’s on a day that your cubicle mate had decided to work from home. You couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or curse until the next day, when you wished that he decided to work from home forever. It was on a Tuesday morning that you finally faced him again, locking eyes with him from across the boardroom table in an all-hands meeting. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say, but … he didn’t speak to you any way. In fact, even when you both got back to your desks, he kept quiet, throwing on his headphones and focusing on whatever task was at hand. His attitude change wasn’t exactly surprising, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him either.
All your other coworkers looked bewildered. The silence between you two made just about everyone feel awkward. They all saw how close you and Wonwoo had become, and now everything just felt … flat. Silent. Empty. It was like you two were strangers. Maybe you had never really known each other in the first place, if you could both discard each other so easily. 
But that just seemed too good to be true. You thought about him everyday, despite yourself, and he had to think of you too. You caught his eyes on you every once in a while, and you couldn’t help but yearn for him in silence. It was probably time for you to take charge again and make the first move, but you found yourself hesitating. Again. You were overwhelmed with thoughts of rejection. 
This was why you never gave up control with someone before. It left you suddenly so, so doubtful.
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You [1:34 PM]: I can’t get into my Outlook. I think I’ve locked myself out 
Jeon Wonwoo is now offline.
You [1:36 PM]: I miss you too
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It was a busy Sunday, the first notes of Spring evident in the air. You needed to go to the post office today, the supermarket, probably check in on your parents … but that was all discarded when you made the sudden decision to take a taxi to Wonwoo’s apartment. Your hands were shaking more than his when he first touched you. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety, and when the taxi finally pulled up to his building, you considered never getting out. 
But you couldn’t continue being a coward. Besides, this driver had places to be, with the way he was arguing for you to pay in cash.
You were lucky enough to slide in through the building’s entrance while someone was walking out. The less you had to embarrass yourself by calling Mingyu to let you in, the better. The walk up those two flights of stairs was long and tiring, and it wasn’t because you always hated them. You physically couldn’t make yourself go faster, too frightened of what he was going to say when he saw you. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything; maybe he’d slam the door in your face. And you couldn’t blame him, because now you were at his door and – oh, god, you wanted to hurl.
The door was opening before you could even catch your breath. When you caught that first glimpse of Mingyu, you realized how much of a mistake this was. You could always turn back, run down the stairs before anyone could say a word.
But as soon as you both locked eyes, Mingyu raised his brow, but not in a mocking sense. It was as if … he expected you to be here. He sighed, leaning against the door, and without looking back, he called out, “Wonwoo! You got a visitor.”
Your eyes went wide, and then Mingyu was pushing past you, leaving the door open and muttering, “Good luck.” He was rushing down the stairs two at a time before you could even say a word back. But then you were seeing him, and you wondered if it had always been this hard to breathe around him.
Your fingers played absentmindedly as you both stared at each other. His glasses were slipping down his nose, but he made no move to fix them. His own hand was too busy dropping the controller that had been in his grip, now clattering to the floor. His hair was messed up and he was wearing his favorite comfy sweatsuit, and you … you were put together, as always. Your hair unwashed, but pulled up in a ponytail, and wearing that cardigan he liked so much on you. If he wasn’t so hurt, just the sight of you would have him on his knees right now, begging to have you.
He had to turn around and walk away. If he didn’t right now, he’d just –
“Wait,” you said, walking in and closing the door when he spun away. “Please, don’t. I –”
“What could you possibly say?” He snapped, facing you once again. You had never heard his voice at this octave before, never seen so much distress on his face. “I thought we knew each other well enough that you wouldn’t cut me off out of nowhere. As if I’m just some guy you met at a bar last weekend.”
Your mouth opened, and then closed. 
“Do you … do you even understand how worried I was about you?” He ran a hand through his hair, voice cracking for the first time in forever. You took a step closer to him. “You weren’t answering me and I just … my head went to the worst. I thought Mingyu was gonna kill me the next time I mentioned your name. And then, to see you at work and realizing that you were actually just ghosting me was a fucking punch to the gut. I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. But I’m so pissed at you for hurting my feelings that I’m not even sure if I wanna know.”
“Wonwoo –” You started.
“Please, don’t say my name like that,” he sighed and pinched his nose. “I realize that you came all this way to finally break the news to me, but I’m good. It’s very obvious to me now that you don’t like me as much as I like you, and to save us the pity party, let me get you home –” He reached for his wallet to grab some cash for your next taxi.
But you interrupted before he could finish.
“I love you.”
He paused, looking up and making sure he heard you right. “What?”
“I’m in love with you,” you said it again, and it felt so freeing to have this weight lifted off your shoulders. You moved closer, now standing a foot away, but refusing to touch him for your own good. “And I’m not just telling you that as an excuse. Ignoring you was cruel and I can never forgive myself for hurting you. I just … when I realized how deep my feelings for you were …” Your throat closed up, as if your body was acting on instinct, preventing you from being vulnerable with him.
Wonwoo closed the distance. “Hey,” he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I’m right here with you.”
His voice was so reassuring – as always – opening you up like a blooming flower. And suddenly, your mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore and your nails stopped making crescent-shaped indents in your palm.
“I got scared,” you confessed, your gaze locked on his. “And I ran away, because that was the easiest thing to do. I thought ignoring you would be best for both of us, and I stubbornly didn’t want to hear your opinion on any of this. What I did was wrong and I … I hate myself when I do stuff like this to people I care about.”
Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, but he wiped them with his thumb before they could fall. You sniffled, noticing the hurt in his eyes had faded, replaced only by adoration. Your lips pursed as you searched his gaze.
“I’ve just … never allowed anyone to open me up like this. I’ve never given my feelings to someone and let them care for me.” You blinked, your eyes rimmed red. “I’ve hardly been able to comprehend my own feelings because I’ve been scared shitless of them in the first place. But I can’t … I can’t justify pushing you away anymore. Because I love you. I don’t like being alone anymore and all I ever want to do is see you. Sometimes I’m afraid if I stop holding you, you’ll disappear. You do so much for me; you literally fix something on my computer everyday. I think if I let you go right now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and I –”
Wonwoo cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t remember the last time he kissed you like this: so gently with his palm cupping your jaw. You felt yourself relax when he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His tongue licked into your mouth, sighing with relief when the familiar taste of you entered his orbit again. The taste of coffee and peppermint gum and the peanut butter and jelly you definitely had for lunch today. It was everything he loved about you, and he smiled into the kiss.
When he finally pulled away, he said, “Sorry, I interrupted your monologue.”
“It’s okay. Someone needed to before I got into the Hamlet soliloquy I prepared.”
He chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, and just that had a blush creeping to your cheeks. “I forgive you,” he whispered, leaning back in to ghost his lips all over your face. Your warm breath fanned his mouth. “Just don’t do that again. I know I don’t show it very often, but I’m secretly very …” He smiled softer this time, pecking just slightly on the corner of your mouth. “Sensitive.”
Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting him all the more closer. “I know. I promise.” You brushed your nose over his. “If I ever ignore you for even a couple hours, you have full permission to annoy me on Slack.”
Wonwoo had to cover his mouth from letting out the loudest laugh possible, but it made you feel all the better to see him happy. You could spend forever seeing him this happy. You got up on your tiptoes just to stare at him more, to press yourself closer and feel his grin against your cheek.
But he was holding your face now, sighing down at you with a smile that almost made you swoon. “For the record,” he replied, “I love you too.” 
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plant-neighbor · 1 year ago
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My three year long theater involvement is getting completely fucked over!
Got announced today in Tech Class (super small program at a super small school) that my director would be resigning due to being offered a similar position a couple towns over with her preferred theater company...
So after this show I will be with an entirely different director, program set up (a good likelihood that whoever takes over will want to do things VERY different), my position as stage manger may not continue, and even the program as a whole could get uprooted and be completely shifted and changed depending on if the school wants to consequentially making all of my skills and knowledge useless.
After three years of working in this program and being the most highly skilled person in it to the point of being able to run it completely independently when needed it is getting turned on it's head completely, fuck my life
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stjohnstarling · 1 month ago
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My favourite alternative news resources for staying informed:
Garbage Day — As an internet user, you are affected by the state of the internet — I’ve long read this newsletter for its analysis of culture through the lens of internet ephemera, but in recent weeks Garbage Day has also become one of the very best sources of breaking news and analysis about the ongoing coup. Even if you subscribe to nothing else in this e-mail, you are certain to discover a variety of journalists and news publishers via this publication (many of the independent journalists linked below I originally found via a link in Garbage Day.)
404 Media — As a reader of my work, you are affected by US anti-pornography laws, which limit freedom of sexual expression online — Sam Cole (ex-senior editor for Motherboard) at the independent news publication 404 Media does the best reporting on news related to these topics of any individual journalist I'm aware of. 404 Media is an internet and technology news platform that was co-founded by four journalists: a writer, two senior editors, and the editor-in-chief of Motherboard.
What the Fuck Just Happened Today? — As a person who lives in the world right now, you are, unfortunately, affected to some extent by US politics — WTFJHT delivers an extremely lucid, concise, once-per-day summary of US political news.
Law Dork — As a person affected to some extent by US politics, it is in your interest to understand US law. Chris Geidner (US Supreme Court expert and ex-BuzzFeed legal editor) is the best source I can recommend for informative, detailed reporting + analysis of, in particular, LGBTQ+ political and legal issues in US news.
Erin in the Morning — Erin Reed (trans rights activist and ex-digital director for TheAmerican Independent) is one of the best sources for all news regarding the fight for trans rights in the US; in-depth coverage of the wave of anti-trans legislation and how people are fighting back. Very difficult and vitally important work.
Notes on the Crises — Nathan Tankus (economist and self-taught monetary policy expert.) This is a finance-focused publication that has pivoted to full-time coverage of Elon Musk's activities within the treasury. It has been one of the first places to break news of Musk's activities and has been cited in the lawsuits against him.
Popular Information — Judd Legum (founder of the now-defunct ThinkProgress.) Highly influential investigative reporting; also publishes the newly-minted Musk Watch, focused on Elon Musk’s activities.
Public Notice — Aaron Rupar (ex-Vox journalist.) Notable reporting on the activities of the US right wing for a progressive audience.
WIRED — Believe it or not, the tech-focused magazine WIRED has been consistently publishing what is universally considered to be some of the best reporting on all breaking news WRT Elon Musk’s ongoing bureaucratic coup.
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continuousmeowing · 1 year ago
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well I forgot that tech week is next week. shit.
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cerealandchoccymilk · 2 years ago
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bad thing about the 1st years being useless dicks: theyre useless dicks
good thing about the 1st years being useless dicks: i get to yell at people and the teachers and other students thank me. and im a Cool Sempai now
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kthologue · 2 years ago
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how i met your mother  — gojo satoru
contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it
notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!
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“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!” 
just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips.  “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.
this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.
“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.
the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.
“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests. 
nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.
you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection. 
“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it. 
“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.” 
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2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech
meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo
that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed. 
the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.
a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.
“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.
“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.
another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think. 
“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.
a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.
a low whistle comes out of his mouth. 
 “oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.”  you want to laugh.
out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”
thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.
soon after her arrival, yaga comes.
“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.
“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face. 
you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?” 
there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.
“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–” 
there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.” 
he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it. 
a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”
“that’s not really the case.”
“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.
you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.
“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.
gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto. 
unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”
from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?” 
you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.
“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly. 
what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.
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2018 — present day
your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story. 
“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.
“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.
there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”
you smack his shoulder.
“be serious!”
he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!” 
you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.
“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.
“let me finish!”
you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”
there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”
“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.
“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!” 
“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously. 
the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.
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extra notes- 
yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.
there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).
gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.
this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.
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covenofagatha · 3 months ago
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Going up
A morning of working Agatha up ends in an elevator
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: GP Agatha, cumming in pants, blowjob, slight handjob, public (no sex though), oral, light edging
A/N: I don't even know if this is good or not lol but I had the idea and couldn't get it out of my head so hopefully people enjoy it
Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn
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When you wake up on Saturday morning, your first thought is: no work today! This week has been especially rough, the end of the fiscal quarter upon you, and your boss has been working you and the rest of the company to the bone. 
Your head lolls back on the pillow, tilting slightly to your left, where you see said boss sleeping next to you and a smirk spreads over your face. 
Her hair is fanned out across the pillowcase, the creases on her forehead that you’re used to seeing at work not as evident. She looks peaceful, more relaxed than she ever does awake, and it does something to your chest. 
Agatha Harkness is the Chief Operating Officer for the largest law firm in New York City. She runs a no-nonsense ship, barking out orders to everyone and anyone regardless of who you are. There’s rumors that she’s made interns pee themselves with just a single look. 
It’s no secret that she’s tightly wound and, without a doubt, a piece of work. The running joke between some of the attorneys was that she really needed to get laid. 
And while you found that incredibly sexist, that’s where you came in. 
For some reason, Agatha had always had a soft spot for you, one of the top Senior Associate attorneys for the company. Whereas when everyone else turned in reports and whatnot and got a mere eyebrow raise, she actually smiled at you. 
You were certain it was just a fluke that kept happening over and over again, but one night in her corner office, the two of you were tirelessly working on a lawsuit for a tech company and you had taken off your blazer. The air conditioning had broken, and you were working up a sweat.  
She was sitting adjacent to you on the couch, and you can still remember her swallowing hard when you undid the top two buttons of your silk blouse. She shifted, hands dropping to her lap uncomfortably, but you didn’t think much of it. 
And then you had decided that writing on paper against a book in your lap was too hard, so you had slunk off the couch onto your knees to use the coffee table as a better surface and Agatha had groaned. 
You had looked up in concern to find her fingers digging into her thighs so tightly her knuckles were white and you could see a faint tent in her pants. 
“Do you need some help with that?” You had asked, eyes wide and feeling like you were in a dream. Of course you had a crush on Agatha, she was powerful and bossy and the hottest woman you’d ever seen, but you had been convinced she would never even think of you as anything more than a subordinate. 
It was stupid to offer, she was probably going to report you to HR the next day, but she had made a small sound and gave an affirmative jerk of her head, and the next thing you knew, she had pulled out her cock and you were sucking her off right there in her office. 
Turns out, the other attorneys had been right. 
Agatha was in a much better mood the next day, actually saying thank you to the intern who brought her morning coffee instead of ignoring him completely. 
That night three months ago was the start of a mutual coworkers-with-benefits relationship, if you could call it that. You had brought it up to Agatha one time and she had snorted before fondly telling you to go bother someone else. 
With the end of the quarter coming up though, there had been a lot more late nights, including last night, when Agatha had stopped you from getting into your car after working until ten pm and dragged you into her company car, her mouth on yours before the partition between the backseat and the driver had gotten all the way up. 
The two of you had fucked for close to an hour when you had gotten back to Agatha’s penthouse apartment and promptly passed out. 
And you’re hoping more than anything that today, a planned day off, is full of more of Agatha’s cock inside you. 
Your boss stirs next to you, exhaling heavily, and when she presses her hips against you, you can feel her half-hardened length. It instantly sends a thrill straight to your stomach and you slowly inch down the covers to reveal your still-naked bodies. 
You reach out your hand and run your thumb over her nipple, watching it pebble quickly, and then skim your fingertips down the smooth skin of her back, a trail of goosebumps following. She’s laying on her side facing you so you’re able to watch her eyebrows knit together slightly. Your hand reaches her hip and then slides down and you’re about to touch her cock when she suddenly grabs your wrist. 
It makes you jump. Agatha’s blue eyes flutter open to meet your surprised ones. 
“What are you doing, babygirl?” She rasps, voice still hoarse with sleep, and it makes you shudder. 
“I thought I’d help you out with your problem,” you tease. 
Agatha hums thoughtfully, letting go of your hand and stroking her cock. You watch with rapt fascination as it hardens fully under her touch and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and satiate the burning feeling in your stomach. “I think that’s only fair,” she decides. “seeing as it’s your fault I’m turned on.” 
You grin and maneuver her onto her back and straddle her thighs, bending over her to suck her nipple into your mouth. She makes a muffled sound and her hips jerk up, her now-leaking cock brushing against your stomach. You tease her for a minute or two before kissing down her stomach and you scrape your teeth against her hip bone. 
By the time you get to her cock, she’s already thrusting gently against nothing for stimulation, red, hard, and messy and when you run your tongue up the length while holding eye contact, she lets out a loud moan and her hand flies to your hair. You trace the vein on the side until she’s practically whimpering, legs shaking beneath you, and then you take the tip into your mouth and suck. 
Agatha keens and her back arches off the bed. “Fuck,” she mumbles. “God, babygirl, your mouth feels so good.” 
You move your head down her cock and you feel her pulse in your mouth and her hips jump, shoving herself further into your throat. You gag and she groans and you start to move faster, Agatha throbbing inside your mouth and –
– her phone rings. 
Agatha swears and scrambles to answer it, barking out a “What?” right as you swallow around her cock. She fixes you with a warning glare as you laugh, the vibrations forcing her to clamp a hand over her mouth. 
You hold her stare and take the whole thing into your mouth, rubbing your tongue against her and her head falls back onto the pillow. It’s getting harder for her to stay quiet, especially with you bobbing up and down her cock and she eventually has to pull you off her before she inevitably cums into your mouth while on the phone. 
So you just watch her, licking your lips and taking a moment to breathe. She’s getting more and more pissed by the minute, eyes becoming dark and angry, a frown etching onto her face, and you can hear the other person saying something about a contract and a multi-million dollar deal and how the company could be fucked without it, and when Agatha’s erection slowly softens, you know what it means. 
She hangs up the phone and your head falls onto her stomach dramatically. “Do we have to?” You groan and Agatha huffs out a sigh. 
“Stark Industries might be pulling out unless we amend some of the clauses in that contract. We need to go in,” she says. 
“Can I at least finish you off first?” You offer and her cock twitches at the thought. 
Agatha chews on her lip like she’s seriously considering it, but then pats your cheek. “Maybe later, babygirl.” 
You roll your eyes and flop onto the bed and she chuckles as she gets up and pulls some clothes out of her drawer. She puts on a navy blue suit and tosses an outfit at you, a black pencil skirt and white blouse. 
“Let’s go,” she orders, never out of boss mode for too long. You petulantly make your movements as slow as possible until she threatens to spank you for it later, and although it doesn’t really seem like it’d be much of a punishment, you hurry up. 
She grabs two apples from her fridge, hands one to you, and calls her car. The driver is waiting right outside when you get down to the lobby and you slide in after her. 
“You know what I’d rather be doing?” You ask conversationally after leaning forward to press the button for the partition to go up. 
Agatha’s scrolling on her phone and hums in acknowledgement. 
“Sucking your cock,” you answer and Agatha stiffens. “I love the taste of you, love how you lose composure for me, love how it feels when you cum in my mouth.” 
She’s biting her lip now and you can see the outline of her rapidly hardening cock in her pants. You reach out and put your hand on the bulge and she grits her teeth, still turned on from earlier. 
“Honey,” she warns through a clenched jaw. “Don’t.”
But you don’t listen. You slowly start to move your fingers, stroking up and down and feeling her throb in her pants. She swallows roughly and she’s getting harder, a flush settling into her cheeks and neck. 
You lean in and flick your tongue against her earlobe and she shivers. 
“Don’t let this think you’re in charge,” she says tightly. “You just wait until we get back to my apartment. I’ll remind you.” 
You laugh. “Really? Cause it feels like I’m holding a lot of the power right now.” And to emphasize your point, you give her cock a tight squeeze, immensely enjoying the way she groans. 
“You’re going to be on your knees,” she says in a low, gruff voice. It ignites your stomach. “My cock down your throat, and then I’m going to cum all over that pretty little face and you’re going to thank me for it.” 
The image securely mounts itself in your mind and you gasp. 
“And then, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your name and all you’re going to feel is my cock deep inside you,” she continues and you can feel your mind going foggy. Your hand has stopped moving, but you can feel just how much the thought is affecting her, too. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, your underwear practically sticking to you. Agatha smirks triumphantly, now both of you overwhelmingly turned on, but the joke is on both of you when the driver pulls up in front of the office building. 
You both groan and reluctantly get out of the car, despite you asking Agatha for five more minutes. The cold air in the lobby does little to quell the heat in your stomach and you drag your feet on the way to the elevator. 
Much to your surprise, there’s quite a lot of other employees working on this Saturday, most of them not from your law firm, so when the doors open and everyone steps on, all different numbers are pressed. 
With fifty-five floors, it’s one of the taller skyscrapers in the area, and the executives of the law firm are on the top. There’s at least twenty other stops on the elevator ride and you roll your eyes and follow Agatha straight to the back corner, turning around so your back is facing her. 
You go up one floor and the doors ding. Five more people get in and you’re practically on top of Agatha now with how packed it is. You move your body sideways to make more room, your hip knocking against Agatha. 
“Sorry,” you murmur and she makes a small sound, hand coming up to ruffle her hair. You pull out your phone and you’re scrolling through emails, clicking on one from one of the paralegals asking for advice about a case they’re working on and typing out a quick response, when you hear Agatha sharply inhale. 
And then you feel it. 
You had thought that once you’d gotten out of the car and you were no longer directly and purposely touching her, she would calm down. 
That is clearly not the case. 
This is the hardest she’s been all morning. 
You try and catch her eye, which takes longer than it should because of how hard she’s trying not to look at you. 
Really? You mouth when she finally gives in. 
Agatha turns uncharacteristically red and you feel your body flush. You had no idea you could affect her this much and it’s seriously turning you on. 
She tries to turn her hips away but there’s no room so your boss has no choice other than to keep her throbbing cock pressed against you. 
The elevator dings at the eighth floor. One person gets out. You tilt your head up at Agatha and find a slight sheen of sweat on her cheeks and glassy eyes. She’s staring straight ahead, lips pursed tightly together, looking like she’s in sweet, agonizing pain. 
How much stimulation is she getting right now? You’re not moving, she’s not moving, and yet she sometimes doesn’t even look like this when she’s inside you. 
Should you be offended? You decide to not be, based on what you’ve put her through this morning. 
Eleventh floor. Three people get off and she sucks in a deep breath when you can finally step away from her. Your eyes flicker down to the very visible tent in her pants and you clench your thighs together. She watches you and you swear you can see her cock throb through the navy fabric of her pants. 
Twentieth floor. More people get in and you’re pushed back against her. She lets out a small gasp and you gently lay your fingers on her wrist. 
Agatha shudders and you can feel your wetness on your inner thighs. You might have to go to the bathroom when you get out of the elevator and take care of yourself. 
Not like you would last more than three minutes right now. 
Your boss is now fully staring at you, barely any blue left in her eyes, a look you’ve never seen before on her face. 
It’s thrilling. 
Thirty-third floor. More people file out, muttering excuse me and sorry as they wade through the crowd. 
Now there’s more room in the elevator, enough room where you could step away from Agatha and give yourselves both some breathing room. 
You don’t move. 
Agatha is taking deep, slow breaths, her cheeks surely burning to the touch right now, and at least she’s wearing a dark color to hide the stain she is assuredly going to have on her pants. 
Babygirl, she mouths pleadingly when you finally look at her again and you have to stifle a moan at how needy she looks right now. 
And what kind of person would you be if you didn’t help her out? 
You’ve been standing perpendicular to her, your hip and side of your right leg pressed against her body. 
Fiftieth floor. 
Mostly everyone has cleared out by now. 
You slowly turn your body to face the doors, making sure to carefully drag your ass against her, and her hand grips onto your arm with a vice-like grip from behind you. 
She twitches and pulses and then throbs, and you can feel warmth spread on the back of your – her skirt as she cums in her pants, ever-so-slightly rutting against you. Agatha lets out a muffled groan, followed by a cough for show; there’s still three other people in the elevator. 
The elevator dings on the fifty-fifth floor and Agatha takes a shaky breath as the two of you exit. You feel like you’re burning up and each step you take reminds you of how much of a mess you’ve become. 
“You okay?” You murmur as you walk down aisles of cubicles. 
Agatha weakly laughs. “Next time I’ll just let you finish sucking me off before coming to work.” 
The thought makes you smirk and she opens the door to her office, holding it for you. She walks around her desk and pulls out a pair of underwear and pants for herself (you’ve both started having to keep extra clothes for times like these) and she beckons you into the private bathroom attached. 
You eagerly follow, and you’re even more thrilled when she slams you against the wall and sinks to her knees. Her hooded eyes look up at you as she pushes up the skirt you’re wearing and your head drops back with a gasp escaping from your lips when her mouth sucks on your pussy through your panties. 
Agatha quickly moves them to the side, having enough of her own teasing, and buries her tongue inside you and it pulls an obscene moan from deep in your chest. 
It feels so fucking good and you’re already on the edge from getting Agatha all worked up this morning. She chuckles at how wet you are, how you’re already getting her face soaked, and she swirls her tongue around your clit and your hips roll, chasing more. 
She brings you right to your orgasm – it’s almost embarrassing how quickly it happens – and you’re shaking, trembling, begging, but she stops. 
“No, Agatha, please,” you whine, hand in her hair and trying to push her back against you, but she stands back up and licks her lips. The bottom half of her face is glistening, shiny with your wetness in the harsh light of the bathroom. 
She pouts mocking and makes quick work of turning around and changing her clothes while you frantically start to rub yourself with your own fingers. You’re so close–
“Uh uh,” she tuts, catching your eye in the mirror. You almost sob and she whirls back around to suck your fingers into her mouth. They slip out with a pop! “You got me all worked up until I came in my pants like a fucking teenager, babygirl. You think I’m going to let that slide? You think you’re in charge? Well, now I’m going to get you all worked up and you will not be cumming until we’re back in my apartment, got it?” 
All you can do is whimper and the grin she gives you is wicked. With one pat to your cheek, she pushes you out of the bathroom just in time for one of the attorneys, Alice Wu, to come into her office. 
Agatha slides into her chair while you awkwardly stand next to her desk while Alice lays a contract on it. 
You can’t even pretend to be paying attention, still focused on the orgasm you were just denied and how maybe if you just press your legs together really hard–
Agatha says your name. Probably not the first time she’s said it, judging by her annoyed tone, but when you look at her, she winks, like she knows exactly what you’re thinking. 
You roll your eyes, step closer so you’re next to Agatha, and lean over so you can see what Alice is talking about. You have to repress a gasp when you feel your boss’s hand tracing up the back of your thigh through your skirt, just low enough so no one can see. 
Agatha watches you carefully out of her peripheral vision, the corners of her mouth tugging up in a smirk. 
You are fucked.  
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bueckersbitch · 2 months ago
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i'm still waitin' at the green light. to tell you what i feel like, but i can't go.
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greenlight part two - paige bueckers x reader
☆ warnings : angst, sexual context, strap, toxic!paige
☆ word count : 2k
☆ authors note : hiiiii! here’s part two! i could honestly keep going w this concept bc i love it sm! also how is it senior night im in shambles
☆ taglist : @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @rosemariiaa @xxloveralways14 @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold @janaelalfysblunt @bueckersfive @vamptizm
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“I can’t believe I'm back here again.” Your words hung in the air, thick and suffocating to Paige, but it wasn’t new; it was the mantra you had been repeating to her over the last couple of months whenever you would see her on occasion. So, Paige had heard it more than she wished to. You watched as Paige took a hit from the blunt you guys were sharing, her low eyes revealing the high she was experiencing. But even then, the high was something that would eventually end, like the two of you.
Paige’s ego got the best of her, “I know, but we always find our way back to each other.” She referenced the text you received from her a month after you saw her new girlfriend on your feed. You snatch the blunt from her, taking a drag and exhaling, the smoke filling the car and the void of uncomfortable silence. You looked over at the blonde, being met with her eyes already looking at you. The cool air from the ac settled into your bones. You hated how this seemed to be your normal now, Paige pushing to see you, which led to the inevitable argument that made you come to the same conclusion every time: You would leave, and Paige would beg you to stay.
Paige licked her lips, taking the bottom one in between her teeth before tilting her head back to lie on the headrest of her seat, “Why do you keep pretending it’s gonna be the last time we see each other?” You broke your gaze away from her, looking out the windshield at the Dallas skyline, and while the city was buzzing with the lives and stories of countless people, Paige always managed to make it feel like it was just you two. She had taken you in her car to the very top of a parking garage, parking facing the beautiful skyline. 
You manage to find words, deciding that the truth wouldn’t hurt. “I don’t know. I want to move on, and everything in my head is telling me to, but my heart still wants to be with you, I guess.” Your confession lingers in the air. That’s when you feel the softness of Paige’s fingertips on your leg. Her hand travels to caress your cheek, moving a strand of hair that had escaped from behind your shoulder back behind your ear. “I fucked up, ma. I know that now. You don’t want to move on because you and I both know it was always supposed to be us.” 
You lead your eyes back to Paige, slightly admiring her appearance. Her signature braided ponytail she hadn’t been able to let go of. Even after going to the league, it was obvious she couldn’t let go of you when she went to the league either. Finding comfort in familiarity . Her legs spread as much as they could in the tight confines of her Jeep. Her bottom half covered in grey Essentials sweatpants, and her black Nike tech covering her top, slightly unzipped to show her “pb” necklace, an outfit you had told and showed her how much you loved when you were together.
Her hips shift up slightly when she reaches to adjust the temperature of the car, taking the blunt back from your hands.
You guys pass the blunt back and forth, Paige finishing it off and discarding the roach mindlessly, tossing it out the window and onto the asphalt. She shifts her seat back, opening the sunroof to look out at the night sky above you both. You follow suit, eyes tracking a shooting star. Piage had noticed it too it seemed, “Y’wanna know what I wished for?” Your eyes start to water, because you knew what she was going to tell you, “I wished that you would come back to me, for good.” You sigh at that, as much as you wanted to, and as much as you kept finding yourself in this situation, you couldn’t bring yourself to let yourself get lost in her again. Maybe you were being overdramatic, but how could you pass off your feeling of betrayal? Paige had left you as soon as she found someone whose smooth flirting eased its way into her mind. Discarded you, like she had with the roach, which left you feeling like the four years between you two wasn’t as serious as it had been.
Her hands reached for your thighs again, this time, it was to swing your legs over the middle seat, to rest in her lap. You were leaning against the window now, facing her as she turned her head to you. Paige was always more affectionate high, the warmth of it giving her the ability to be honest with herself and you. “Y’look so pretty ma.” Paige says, a soft smile adorning her lips as she rubs her hands up and down your calves. “I told you, no pet names anymore.” You set boundaries before you hung out with Paige, it was always, “behave yourself P, no pet names, and no arguments about what we used to be.”  Even you found that hard sometimes.
“C’mon, I just miss how it was, I miss when you were there for me, I miss coming home from practice to find you napping on the couch, how i would wake you up with a kiss to your forehead so you could pull me under the blanket with you, how we would fall asleep together.” You could lash out, tell her that this was the consequences of her own actions, but you couldn’t deny that you felt that way too. “Paige.” Is what you settled on, not wanting to argue with her, not wanting to ruin your high. “M’sorry” she groans. “I miss it too.” You confess, Paige being the one person who coild get the truth out of you. And you did miss it, your own couch feeling cold and lonely without your tall girlfriend.
“C’mere.” she coaxes you with her smooth voice, and for once, you don’t fight it, letting her hands wrap around your waist and lift you up over the middle console and into her lap. You let your arms fall around her neck, she hugs you by the waist, rubbing your back comfortingly as you inhale the scent of her Valentino colonge. 
She shifts her hips again, this time to try and get more comfortable. That’s when you feel it, pressing up against you through the clothing. It wasn’t foreign, she would wear it under her clothes when you were together, reminding you that it was “more convenient” that way. 
You pull away from her neck, and she knows, she knows what you’re about to say, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as her lips curve into a smirk. “Oh my God Paige, You’re not real.” She starts twisting the ends of your hair between her fingers, “You love it.” 
Her hands find their way to your hips, softly rocking you on her lap. You let out a soft whine, accompanied by a breathy string of curse words. “Missed this, missed you” Paige says, grabbing your head to crash her lips onto yours. Her lips felt so familiar it hurt, the air was being stripped from your lungs, you let yourself sink into her as her hands kept moving your hips against her. “I need you Paige.” You say, grinding down against her, feeling your slick start to get uncomfortable. “I know baby, I need you to cum in your pants first, been awhile since I got you right like that.” Her words were filthy, but Paige was always good at communicating what she wanted from you, “Give me a chance, lemme remind you how I make you feel.” You whine, the wetness in your pants providing enough to comfortably grind against what you yearned for in her pants. “Fuck, okay.” You say, wanting nothing more than to forget about all the hurt you felt over the last few months. 
That was all the confirmation Paige needed, she lifted your light pink tank top just enough to be met with your light purple lace bra, the one you bought for Paige’s birthday. “Fuck, Y’tryna kill me?” She sighed, rubbing her thumbs across your nipples before flicking them, watching your tits bounce slightly with the movement of your hips. You let out a whine, Paige continued to aide you with your movements, her sweet words helping the feeling in your stomach tighten, relief finally washing over you, whining into her ear as you do so.
Paige lifts her hips to take her sweatpants off, unzipping her tech right after, very quickly figuring you that she had decided to forgo a bra, being met with her supple tits, nipples pink and peaked due the the pleasure of getting you off. You mirror her actions, taking off your tank top fully, deciding to keep Paige’s favorite set on you on, you follow with your sweatpants, the light purple thong being corrupted with a darker patch from earlier actions. Paige let out a hum at the sight of you, cursing slightly to herself at the sheer thought of having you like this again. 
“I’ll do all the work for you ma, you deserve that.” Paige says, lifting your hips to place you above the tip of her purple strap, “Look at that, we go together real bad, huh?” You don’t get a chance to respond, she pulls your panties to the side and eases you down onto her length, the tip hitting your spot as she allows you to get used to the intrusion.
Paige pulls all of your hair over one shoulder, leaning you into her, lifting you up just enough for her to start thrusting her hips up. She moves your face into her neck, craning her head to start kissing your neck, you feel the slow suck of your skin into her mouth, biting it a little before smoothing it over with the cool of her tongue. 
“Fuck Paige, just make me feel good please.” You say through your moans, the car starts to fog up with desire. The faint buzzing of the vibrator against her clit cutting through the air, making you both moan, Paige sighing with pleasure. Your back arched as you got closer, taking in how Paige looked, needy, her lips more flushed and plump than usual, the rapid breathing pushed her tits out to you, you moved your fingers to her nipples, your short french manicured nails twisting one slightly, forcing Paige to let out, “Oh, fuck.” Paige started thrusting faster, harder, her hands underneath your thighs to support you through it, “Please tell me you’re close baby.”  You gasp, the direct punching of her against your spot made you moan out, “Yes, please.” Pressure in your stomach becoming unbearable, you decide to kiss at her neck, pulling her ponytail to yank her head to the side, giving you better access. You suck a mark, just as she had, and then you lick the letters of your name straight over it. Paige groans when she realizes, and you knew, the pressure snapped for the both of you, letting out satisfied moans as you both reahed your peak.
-
Paige had dropped you off at your apartment, you used your keycard to get into the building, walking past the complex's gym, straight to the elevator.
You questioned how much longer it would be like this, you thought about how you told yourself you would take her back if she truly apologized. But she had, and you still felt a sense of longing to go back to the way it used to be, young, and in love. Before the reality of the real world drowned you guys. She fucked up, she knew that, but you were also very aware of how it had you feeling, like Atlas, the weight of the whole sky on your shoulders. The elevator opens, and you step into it, hitting your floor and pulling your phone out. You needed to move on, so you find Paige’s contact, and hit the red text that says, “Block Caller”
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favefandomimagines · 10 days ago
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Baby On Board (f.l)
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Summary: Y/N is seven months pregnant and Frank is a nightmare
AN: I’m on a role with these Frank fics lol a request similar to this came through anonymously where there were multiple kiddos but I was thinking of maybe making each pregnancy its own story??? What do we think?
The ER didn’t stop—not for holidays, not for sleep, and definitely not for pregnancies.
Dr. Y/N Y/L/N knew that better than anyone.
At seven months pregnant, she still had her badge clipped to her scrub top, and stethoscope around her neck like she was still on month one.
The only real sign of slowing down came in the form of a tiny foot kicking her ribs every few hours, and the way her husband, Dr. Frank Langdon, treated her like she was wrapped in glass.
“Okay, tell me you’ve eaten something,” Frank said, appearing beside her at the nurse’s station. He had a sixth sense when it came to her whereabouts. He’d sniff her out like a bloodhound when he thought she’d gone too long without food or a break.
She gave him a tired smile, holding up half a granola bar like it was a gourmet meal. “I’m pacing myself.”
Frank squinted at it like it offended him. “That’s bird food. You need protein.”
“Frank, I’m fine.”
“You’re growing an entire person. ‘Fine’ is not good enough.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed her a container of sliced apples and peanut butter. “From the cafeteria. It’s not garbage, I checked.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you married me anyway,” he grinned.
Y/N took a bite despite herself. “Only because you told me I had the best laparoscopic technique you’d ever seen.”
Frank leaned closer, voice dipping. “It was a sexy suture job. Changed my life.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. Frank Langdon was a walking contradiction—brilliant and serious when it came to medicine, but a complete puddle around her.
Ever since they’d found out about the baby, he’d been obsessed. With ultrasounds. With vitamins. With keeping her off anything remotely resembling a stressful case.
“You promised you’d only take consults today,” he reminded her, brushing a hand over the swell of her stomach. “No trauma. No GSWs. No knifed bar brawlers. Baby Langdon doesn’t need to hear screams yet.”
“Frank,” she said with a warning look.
“Y/N,” he said back, smiling but not backing down. “Let me be annoying. It’s my love language.”
By midafternoon, the ER was humming like it always did—a steady, chaotic rhythm of stretchers rolling, pages beeping, and voices shouting. Y/N had been reviewing a consult for a gallbladder patient when the overhead pager crackled to life.
“GSW incoming, ETA four minutes.”
The attending was in surgery. Frank was in another trauma bay. The only other senior resident was handling an incoming stroke in CT.
Which meant Y/N was the only one left.
She stood up instinctively, even as a nurse gave her a hesitant look. “Dr. Y/L/N, should I page someone else?”
“There’s no one else,” she said, already reaching for a gown and gloves. “Page the OR. Let them know we might need a room fast.”
“Are you sure—?”
“I’ve got it.”
The trauma bay exploded into motion the second the paramedics wheeled him in.
“Thirty-five-year-old male, GSW to the left abdomen, hypotensive in the field, unresponsive to fluids. GCS 9.”
Y/N was already in position. “Let’s go. Two large-bore IVs, type and cross, hang O-neg now. Get the FAST scan ready.”
The team scrambled. She barked orders while the tech applied the ultrasound probe to the man’s abdomen. Blood everywhere. Vitals crashing.
“He’s bleeding out,” someone said.
“Get me a thoracotomy tray,” Y/N called, pushing harder on the man’s belly. “We’re opening him up here if we have to.”
Her belly pressed into the stretcher as she leaned closer, hands slick with blood, the baby inside her shifting as if aware of the chaos around them.
“Pressure’s bottoming out—”
“He’s tamponading,” Y/N said. “OR now. We need to move.”
They barely stabilized him with a rapid transfusion before wheeling him up. Her gown was soaked in blood. She stripped it off as they rolled the patient away, rubbing at a red streak on her gown as she stepped out of Trauma 3.
And ran straight into Frank.
“Y/N!”
His voice was like a whip crack. She looked up just in time to see him sprinting down the hallway, his eyes wide with panic.
“What the hell happened? Why are you covered in blood? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, holding up her hands, even as he reached out and started patting her down like he was checking for wounds. “Frank, I’m fine. It’s not mine.”
“You weren’t supposed to take any trauma calls!”
“There was no one else, Frank.”
He stared at her, face pale, then looked down at the stain on her trauma gown, the crimson gloves in her hand, and the sheen of sweat on her forehead.
“You’re seven months pregnant. You can’t be in there opening chests—”
“I didn’t open his chest. I stabilized him. Got him to the OR. The patient’s alive, Frank.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. For a second, he just looked at her—at the way she was standing tall, composed, despite the blood and exhaustion.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
She softened as she took the gown and gloves off. “I know.”
“I thought—” he stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought something happened. That someone didn’t notice you were pregnant and shoved you into a wall or—”
She stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’m still capable. Pregnancy didn’t erase my training.”
Frank pulled her into his arms anyway, holding her like he needed to convince himself she was real.
“You’re not a porcelain doll,” he mumbled into her hair. “I know that. But I—God, I just want you both safe.”
“I am safe,” she murmured. “Because I’m trained. Because I trust my judgment. And because I have a husband who follows me around with apples and prenatal vitamins.”
He let out a weak laugh, still holding her.
Later that night, after the trauma bay was clean and the adrenaline had drained from both of them, Frank found her in the break room. She was sitting on the couch, one hand on her stomach, eyes closed.
“You’re not gonna get away with that again, you know,” he said gently.
Y/N opened one eye. “With what?”
“Being the only senior resident and taking a GSW while seven months pregnant. I’m putting it in your permanent record.”
She smiled, too tired to argue. “How’s the patient?”
“Out of surgery. Stable. You saved his life.”
She nodded, a satisfied smile on her face, rubbing at her lower back.
“Come on,” Frank said, kneeling in front of her. “Turn.”
She did, and he began to rub slow, practiced circles into her back. “I’ve been reading up on prenatal massage,” he said casually. “This spot here? Supposed to relieve pressure.”
“You’re a nerd.”
“A nerd who loves you,” he murmured. “And this baby.”
The room was quiet except for the hum of the vending machine. Then she said softly, “I know I scared you. But I need you to believe that I know what I’m doing.”
“I do,” he said. “I really do. But believing in you and worrying about you don’t cancel each other out.”
She leaned back into his hands. “Deal.”
Frank reached up and kissed her cheek, lips lingering slightly.
Two weeks later, she officially went on leave. But every now and then, Frank would find her standing in the ER doorway, arms crossed over her stomach, watching.
And he’d walk over, press a kiss to her temple, and whisper, “Still capable.”
And she’d whisper back, “Still protective.”
And both were absolutely true.
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vaguely-art · 2 years ago
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Stayed up 2-3 hours past my bedtime the last two nights on a "for fun" project for my job because someone offhandedly mentioned "X tool would be handy, but I don't know if that kind of software actually exists".
It does, and I have a semi-optimized virtual machine with setup documentation and reference screenshots of the settings ready to show off now 👍
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